Harry Potter and the Curse of the Prophecy by quizgirl

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 10/12/2004
Last Updated: 17/09/2010
Status: In Progress

When Voldemort hears the Prophecy, he interprets it in a way no one on The Light Side would’ve
considered. Voldemort is convinced that as long as he and Harry both live no one can kill them. And
what is better than to have Harry on his side, as his Heir? As it turns out, Harry may not have
much choice in the matter...




1. Home at Privet Drive
-----------------------



**HARRY POTTER**

**AND THE CURSE OF THE PROPHECY**

Summary (updated 6/21-05): Voldemort has a new, 'waterproof' way to get Harry at
Halloween. How will Harry and Hermione deal with this, and what is really going to happen?

Special thanks to AmberEyes, Annick and Danfan4ever. And Rolephant and Anna Rose.

I promise that I won't stop writing before I'm done.

Here you go; the first chapter! (Nothing belongs to me)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: **HOME AT PRIVET DRIVE**

The rain poured down on the window at number four Privet Drive with all forces, but the
black-haired boy with a lightning bolt scar did not take any notice of it. He was sleeping,
horrible visions blurred his mind, and just as thunder roared its way down from the sky, he sat
bolt upright, panting, and wildly awake. It was too late to stop the scream from escaping his
lips.

In an instant the boy named Harry Potter leapt to the door and placed a chair in front of it so
nobody, like a viscious uncle, could get in. Only a minute later, Harry heard the unmistakable
banging on the door from Vernon, telling him to keep quiet. Harry had made the mistake of not
blocking the door in time. He would not do that again.

Harry shivered, and cowered himself under the blankets once again, but sleep would not come to
him even if he wanted it to.

This, of course, wasn't all that uncommon. Every day since Harry had returned to his
so-called-home, things had been like that. Every night visions and nightmares of Sirius falling
through the veil haunted him.

-

Morning came around 6.30, and Harry forced himself up from bed, his head spinning slightly, and
walked unsteadily to his snowy-white owl, who hooted friendly to him. After a half an hour, Harry
removed the chair from the door and took a cold shower.


After that, Harry threw on some clothes and went downstairs to grab something to eat before he went
downstairs further to where Dudley kept his training equipment. Harry used to do this. He liked to
train; he liked getting all the energy out of his body. It calmed him down. It kept his anger at
check.

Usually the Dursleys did not wake up until somewhere around nine, and then Harry would go
outside and run. He didn't know exactly why he had suddenly started to do this, but that was
the only thing that seemed to keep Harry from sitting on his bed and mourning over the loss of his
godfather. Harry had actually been pretty good at boxing after a while, and he noticed some
progress in running too.

Sure enough, at five past nine o'clock, Vernon Dursley came down the stairs followed by his
wife Petunia and their son Dudley Dursley; Harry thanked himself for not forgetting the time and
being stuck in the basement. However, as soon as Vernon spotted Harry he yelled out.

“COME HERE BOY AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF!”

Harry muttered a silent “No thanks,” before he stormed outside and away from Privet Drive.

-

After running for forty-five minutes Harry sighed and sat down at a bench, while he carefully
looked around, almost expecting to see a Dementor, a Death Eater or even Voldemort. However, there
was no one to be seen, except for a group of boys and girls who looked vaguely familiar, though he
could not place them right away. A pang of realization shot through Harry as one of the boys turned
and spotted Harry with a glare. Harry returned it.

The teenager was a boy named Aidan, and the girl beside him Harry recognized as Patricia.

Aidan and Patricia stopped in shock of seeing Harry, and the rest of the group stopped too and
watched the scene with interest. Harry felt his anger rise like an electric shock and he stood up
off from the bench quickly. Aidan and Patricia took that as a sign of fear, and grinning wickedly
to each other, they slowly approached Harry, clearly expecting him to run away.

“Look, who do we have here? It's the Potter boy!” Aidan said, grinning an evil smile and
nodding to Patricia, who said, “Such a long time Potter… Pity, I have missed beating you up in the
schoolyard.”

“What do you want?” asked Harry, while clenching his jaw tightly; the anger did not fade.
*Control yourself…* Harry was very well aware of the wand in his pocket, and he was also very
well aware of how *easy* it would be to throw a curse at them, even an Unforgivable. Like the
Cruciatus Curse. *It would be so simple,* He thought. *A**nd hey, it might even be
worth it!*

Harry slid his hand slowly down his pocket, gripping the wand. *Just give me a reason, and I
swear-*

“What's your problem, Potter?” Aidan yelled out. “Do we *scare* you?”

“No.” Harry almost laughed at the irony. *They should be scared of him.*

Aidan and Patricia got closer. Twenty feet. Fifteen feet. Harry gripped closer around the wand.
What if he got expelled?

They stopped, ten feet from him. Harry sighed. He couldn't be afraid of them even if he
wanted to anymore.

When Harry was a kid, before receiving the Hogwarts letter, they were some of his worst bullies
apart from Dudley and his gang. However, now he had been through so much worse: He had faced the
most evil wizard in the world and survived a number of times and stood up against his supporters.
Harry had defended himself. He had defended his friends. And he had to defend the world. *No
pressure.* *Right**.*

Aidan and Patricia glared glared suspiciously at him. Harry showed no sign of fear like they had
expected. On the other hand, he looked like he was in control. Like he had the upper hand, even if
he was alone against a group of six people. That confused them.

Harry let a smile purse his lips as he slowly started to draw his wand.

But then, only a moment before Harry had gotten his wand out, a tall, female woman appeared from
behind a bush. Harry promptly recognized her as Tonks, even though she had long, golden hair this
time, and green eyes that matched Harry's own. Tonks was a new Auror and a friend of
Harry's as well. Harry grinned at her and said, “Hi Tonks.”

Tonks returned his greeting with a short smile before she asked a completely stunned Aidan,
“What's going on here?”

Harry answered her question, “Oh, nothing, I was simply wondering how I could do as much damage
as possible to these two,” he said pointing at Aidan and Patricia's faces, their taunting faces
had changed to shock and confusion. They had not been expecting this.

Harry almost laughed at what they must be thinking. What's happened to the boy who
didn't have any defenses and the boy who would run simply by the sight of them? Well, Harry
thought bitterly to himself, that boy disappeared a long time ago.

“Calm down, don't do anything to them, there are greater dangers you should prepare yourself
for,” Tonks said as if the group of muggle students weren't even there.

“You-Know-Who and his followers killed ten more people tonight. I know you have fought him
before Harry, but there is no point playing with suspension like this.”

Aidan and Patricia eyes were very round.

“I know,” Harry sighed, his anger finally starting to ebb out of him. “But I still would like to
get revenge on them. I would still like to hurt them so bad that they wish they were never born…!”
The last bit Harry nodded with full force towards his formal classmates, who were simply staring at
him and Tonks, a look of confusion and fear on their faces. Tonks just looked at him. She looked
scared too.

“Harry, is this really you?”

Harry snorted. “Who else could I be?” Tonks gave him a look as to tell him he should knew very
well what she meant. Harry returned his focus on the muggles in front of him, and simply said,
“Go.” And they went. Tonks disappeared with a *pop* and Harry was alone again.

As he made his way back to Privet Drive, it started to rain.

-

The days came and went slowly. Everyday Harry went through with his training; he didn't care
if he had to run in the rain. In surprising reality, it was actually quite refreshing. Every night,
he woke up to hear himself screaming after a nightmare of Sirius, or a vision of Voldemort killing
someone. Every morning Harry wondered how much more he could take. Then he would remind himself of
the Prophecy and the fact that he was the only one who could save the world. Screw the world! What
was worth living for anyway? It wasn't like Harry could just face Voldemort straight away. He
wouldn't have a chance against him. Harry rolled over in his bed, not really caring to get up
straight away.

Suddenly something flew through his window and landed on his bed. Hedwig. He sat up and removed
the two letters from Hedwig's leg. There was one letter from Hermione, one of his best friends,
and one from Lupin. Without even opening the letter from Lupin, Harry wrote a reply.

*-*

*Lupin-*

*I'm fine.* *The Dusleys are behaving.* *No problems. I don't need
anything.*

*Harry*

-

At first Harry used to open the letters from Lupin, but they were always the same:

*-*

*Harry,*

*Are you ok? Are the Dursleys treating you well? If you need anything, just tell me. I expect
us to come and get to see you soon.*

*R. Lupin*

*-*

Harry returned his attention to the letter from Hermione, wondering if he should open it. After
staring at it for ten minutes or so, Harry decided to open it. After all, if he didn't,
Hermione would probably get worried and tell someone.

-

*Dear Harry,*

*How are you? How are the Dursleys? I hope they* *are* *treat**ing* *you
well.*

*I have* *been staying* *at the Burrow* *for a couple of days now, and I have
something important to tell you when we meet each other.*

*Are you coming to the headquarters? I heard something about picking you up in a week or two,
when Lupin was on a visit here.*

*Ron is acting weird. I wonder why, he won't tell me about it. Ginny says hi.*

*Have you gotten your OWL results? I got mine yesterday, and they were pretty good actually,
at least better than I thought. What did you get?*

*I will see you soon, maybe sooner than you think. Try to not break any rules or get*
*yourself into trouble.*

*Love,*

*Hermione*

*-*

Harry snorted at the last sentence. *Try not to break any rules. Right.* Why did everyone
always tell him what to do? Harry wrote her a short answer.

-

*Hermione,*

*I'm fine. The Dursleys are behaving* *and so* *am* *I. I don't*
*really feel like coming to the H**eadquarters. Say hi to the Weasleys* *for
me.*

*I haven't gotten my OWL results yet. What do you mean with “sooner than you
think?”*

*Harry*

*-*

A shout from downstairs made Harry hurry and put the replies on Hedwig's foot and quickly
sent her off. She gave him an ugly look before she disappeared into the darkness. She was probably
offended by the way Harry had treated her.

Somebody was knocking on his door. Why were the Dursleys out of bed already?

“Boy, get up and open the door this instant!” Petunia said, clearly angry. Harry wondered for a
brief second if it was better if he didn't, but in the end he decided to do as he was told.

The same moment as Harry opened the door, Petunia grabbed his arm and dragged him outside in the
hallway, making Harry yelp in surprise.

“Quiet boy!” sneered Petunia, “Today we are going to get you a haircut! I can no longer tolerate
the neighbours talking about it!” Harry stared at her, not really believing his ears.

“And you better keep it the way it gets this time!” warned Petunia, and started to grab him down
the stairs.

“Wait!” said Harry, trying to get out of her grasp and succeeded. “I need to use the bathroom.
Wait downstairs, I will come in a minute.” Petunia eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but then she
shrugged and let him go, making Harry slightly more surprised. He went back to his room and got his
wand and changed to clean clothes before he went downstairs, a little uncertain of what he was
going to do. He hadn't gotten a haircut since he was… well, ten. And then it was Petunia who
had cut him and the day after his hair was just as long as before. Maybe it was time for a new
haircut. He would even got the chance for it to be cut properly.

-

Five minutes later both Petunia and Harry sat in the car, driving down to the town centre. When
Harry thought about it, he had never actually been in the town centre to get something for himself.
He suddenly thought of something else.

“Aunt Petunia? Why are we doing this so early in the morning, without Uncle Vernon or Dudley?”
Petunia looked up at Harry in surprise, as if she just realized he was there.

“Because…” she said after a while. “I didn't want to disturb them. Remember, I'm
*only* doing this because I am getting tired of looking at you with that hair of yours.”

*How can I forget?* thought Harry bitterly. Petunia turned on the radio and Harry listened
lazily to it, missing his daily training.

-

The haircut didn't take a long time. Petunia actually pushed Harry in the hair salon and
told the woman who was supposed to cut him to just shave it all off if she had to. It was over
after twenty minutes, however, they had not cut it so much. Harry had told her that what he
*really* wanted was to have it neater for once. The lady, named Ruth-Ann, had cut it so it
indeed looked neater, but Harry could still hide his scar. Ruth had been very interested in his
scar, but Harry, in lack for good excuses, had refused to tell her where he had got it.

When he was done Petunia had simply stared at him for a long time and only mumbled to herself
something about why she hadn't done that sooner. Harry gaped at her in amusement.

This seemed to somewhat inspire Petunia. By the end of the morning Harry hadn't just gotten
himself a new hairstyle; he had also gotten himself some new clothes, in *his* size, and in
colours that made his eyes look more intense. Harry liked it, but couldn't help wonder of what
Dudley and Vernon would say. Petunia seemed to think the same thoughts, she used over an hour of
browsing and buying clothes to Dudley.

-

On their way home Petunia seemed to be lost in thoughts, with a weird expression on her face.
Harry did not ask her about it, he doubted it would be anything good anyway. However, after a while
she broke the silence.

“Where do you get money from…. to your- er- you know- your… school supplies?” Petunia shrugged,
as if just saying the word `school supplies' was a shame.

“Erm...” Harry started; he didn't really know what he should say to that question. He had
promised himself not to tell, but it must be fairly obvious that he got money from somewhere. He
gulped. “My mum and dad left me some.” Petunia nodded sharply, clearly expecting that.

They did not say anything more on their way home, and when they got home Harry escaped up to his
room. On his window he spotted a large owl by his window, with *The Daily Prophet* clutched in
its claws. Over the *Prophet* Harry saw a letter from the minister: OWLs results. Harry paid
the owl and watched as it went up in the sky before he returned his attention to the newspaper. He
didn't want to open the letter. He nearly choked when he saw the headlines of the
*Prophet*:

*THIRTY DEATH EATER AND DEMENTOR ATTACKS - THE MINISTRY IS LOSING CONTROL*

That meant that it must have been around fifty only this week. Damn. They were certainly not
hiding anymore! Somehow, Harry should have expected that. He had dreamt it. He had been Voldemort.
He had felt how it was to throw the deadliest curse of them all: the *Avada Kedavra*. He had
felt it. And he had liked it. However, (as Harry kept telling himself over and over,) it was not
him who had enjoyed it. It was Voldemort. *Not him…*

Harry sat down on his bed, his good mood completely gone.

-->



2. Unexpected Visit
-------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Special thanks to Rolephant and Anna Rose.

- .

Chapter 2: **UNEXPECTED VISIT**

Days passed in slow motion as they had before, maybe even slower. Harry lost track of time and
days. Somehow the date didn't seem to matter to him as much as it used to. He would get to
Hogwarts soon enough, and then people would start to stare and accuse him of things again. Usually
he would kill time and read about defense magic but he could do most of the spells already, so he
didn't really learn anything new.

Harry sighed. Hedwig had been gone for a very long time; in fact, he hadn't seen her since
the day his Aunt had taken him to the mall. He felt a pang of guilt. He had been at the mall,
*shopping*, while people who depended on him died.

Harry knew he should try to empty his mind before he went to sleep -after all, that would have
saved Sirius. But Harry felt that he *deserved* those dreams, since he could not save anyone
from the almost daily attacks.

Other than his dreams, the days were quite boring and nothing much happened ... except from one
time when Dudley had kicked him down the stairs when Harry was leaning over it to see if the coast
was clear.

Harry didn't train that day.

His thoughts where interrupted by somebody ringing the doorbell. Harry grimaced. Dudley had
teased him all summer about how many friends he had compared to Harry.

Harry was pretty surprised when he heard Vernon yelling:

“THERE IS NO ONE NAMED HARRY POTTER IN THIS HOUSE!”

Harry, still in shock, jumped from his bed and bolted down the stairs just as Vernon shut the
door with a loud *bang.*

“*Who was it?”* Harry demanded. Vernon narrowed his eyes.

“Just the mail boy. Now, KEEP YOUR NOSE OUT OF MY BUSINESS!”

“I think I'll go outside-“

“OH NO YOU DON'T!” Vernon roared and Harry soon got out of the way and up to his room,
slamming the door behind him before he put the chair in front of it again, in case Vernon decided
to put him in his cupboard.

Angry, Harry sat down on his bed, planning what curses he was most likely to use as soon as he
turned seventeen. The Unforgivables were the first ones that popped into his head.

*Clank.* Yeah. It would be good. *Clank.* But he would never be allowed to-
*clank-* do that…

Some more *clanks.*

Someone was throwing stones at his window!

Harry quickly got up from his bed to get his wand and then stared out of the window as another
*clank* hit the window once again. He felt his jaw drop. There, outside, he saw three people
he recognized as Tonks, Lupin and Hermione.

Harry quickly opened the window.

“Wotcher, Harry!” Tonks yelled up at him as Hermione simply grinned. Lupin said nothing.

“Hi, what- what are you doing here?” Harry asked, but let a smile play on his lips. He had not
smiled for… actually, Harry couldn't remember the last time he smiled at all.

“We came to see you, of course!” Hermione yelled back. “Can you come outside? Your Uncle
wouldn't let us in!”

Harry grinned and left the window, taking away the chair and going downstairs. The television
was on. *Good.* Harry quickly went outside as fresh, wet air soothed his face. As soon as
Harry stepped outside, someone with a lot of brown hair hugged him so hard that he almost
couldn't breath.

“Hermione!” He choked out.

“Oh, sorry Harry, I-“

“It's okay, Hermione, really,” Harry reassured her.

Hermione let out a sight of relief and let him go and took a step back. She looked …different,
Harry realized. Her hair was longer, but not nearly as bushy as it was before, and it framed her
face neatly. Her cheek was slightly blushed, and her face had gotten some colour from the sun.

“Wow, Hermione! You look pretty!”

Hermione frowned. “I *can* look pretty you know.”

Harry suddenly realized what he had said.

“I'm sorry!” He stuttered. “I didn't mean it like that. You always look pretty.” Harry
was pleased with himself for his quick thinking, escaping a fight. Hermione beamed.

“You look good too.”

“Thanks.” Harry responded, but suddenly he heard Tonks burst out laughing. It took a while
before Harry realized Tonks was laughing *at them*.

“*What?*” He snapped, but Tonks only laughed more. Harry turned to Lupin, who looked lost
in thoughts. Probably about Sirius. Of course, Lupin was mourning too! -And it was his fault.

“SHUT UP!” He yelled, and Tonks stopped, alarmed. “Just don't.” Harry added, feeling
embarrassed.

For a brief moment Lupin actually looked up at him, but Harry wouldn't meet his eyes. He
couldn't stand the guilt. He just couldn't.

“I'm sorry…” Harry whispered and looked over to Hermione. She had tears in her eyes. What
was it with girls who where around him? They sobbed all the time! “Erm,” Harry continued, “exactly
how long are you staying here?”

“Well,” Tonks said, a bit careful, “my shift is nearly over, and Lupin's going to the
headquarters. I don't really know about Hermione.

“Can I stay? I don't really feel like going to the Burrow right now,” Hermione pleaded.

Harry shot her a questioning look.

“I don't really think the Dursleys-“ he began.

“The Dursleys will be no problem,” Lupin interrupted, talking to Harry for the first time.

“We'll talk to them.”

They all went to the front door and rang the doorbell.

“I SAID-“ Vernon roared as soon as he opened the door, but he fell silent when he saw that Harry
was with them. “*What are you doing there boy?”*

“Harry here,” Tonks said, who now had pink hair and orange eyes, “and Hermione,” she continued,
pointing at Hermione, “are to stay here for a day or two.”

Vernon's eyes almost swelled out of his face with anger. Hermione gulped nervously.

*“I will not, TOLERATE any GIRLFRIEND of that - that freak!”*

“She's not my girlfriend!” Harry said through gritted teeth. “She's- she's someone I
met a couple of days ago. She wanted to know where I live, and I told her. Don't worry, she
knows I'm going to St. Brutus'.” Harry felt pretty clever for thinking that up too. Merlin,
maybe he wasn't so stupid after all?

Hermione again shot him a questioning look but didn't say anything.

“Then what's she doing with *those?*” Vernon asked, pointing at Lupin and Tonks. Harry
swore silently. *So much for making that up.*

“We don't know her.” Lupin said, obviously catching up quickly (after all, he was a
Marauder) “We were just here to check on Harry. But it seems that he is doing fine. We'll be
off then.” He said, waving goodbye as he and Tonks turned around and left. When they turned the
corner Harry heard a soft *pop,* which meant they had Apparated.

Hermione shot a nervous glance at Harry, uncertain of what to do. To be honest, Harry didn't
know either. Suddenly he heard something, or *someone,* coming down the stairs and soon Dudley
was down in front of them, panting like he had just run a mile. Dudley's eyes widened when he
saw Hermione.

“Who are you?” he asked, rudely.

“Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you,” Hermione frowned. Dudley relaxed a bit.

“Are you as weird as *him?*” Dudley asked, nodding at Harry. Harry answered for her.

“No, she's not.” Dudley smiled a very ugly smile and asked something that caught everyone
off guard.

“Wanna see my room?”

Hermione gaped at him, but when Harry gave her a look she followed Dudley upstairs. However,
when Harry tried to follow, Vernon caught his wrist and pushed him roughly against the wall.

“You will *not* stand in the way, boy!”

“What?” Harry asked, surprised.

“You heard me,” Vernon told him off. “You stay here!”

“But she's *my* visitor!” Harry cried, trying to get out of Vernon's grasp.
Harry's struggle was in vain, however, because Vernon was strong and held him in place… hard.
Harry's arm felt numb, but he continued to struggle.

Suddenly Harry heard somebody let out a shriek from upstairs. Hermione! Harry struggled against
Vernon with every bit of strength he had, and suddenly Vernon let go out him like he had burnt
himself. Harry used Vernon's moment of distraction as an opportunity and flew upstairs. He
found Dudley leaning over Hermione, who was clearly trying to get away.

Harry quickly grabbed his wand and pointed it like a sword at Dudley.

“LET HER GO!”

Frightened, Dudley did as Harry told him. Hermione hurried over to Harry. Dudley frowned at
her.

“You will pay for this! And it will be worse than what I did to you a couple of days ago!”
Dudley roared before disappearing downstairs.

“What did he do to you?” Harry asked before Hermione got the chance to say or do anything.

“He-… It was nothing, Harry, really-”

“No, Hermione, *what* *did he do*?” Harry asked, a little bit more forcefully.

“He wanted to know if I was single, and when I said no, he got a bit angry. But he didn't do
anything Harry, I swear!”

Harry thought for a moment, and than it hit him,

“You're not single? You are seeing somebody?” Harry said, rounding on her.

Hermione frowned.

“Harry, sometimes, your are almost as bad as Ron. Almost! Come, let's talk in your room.”
Hermione said, and Harry showed her the way, but couldn't get his eyes off her. *Who was she
seeing?*

“You don't need to look so surprised!” Hermione said indignantly, looking over her shoulder
at Harry before they entered his room.

Harry locked it and put the chair in front of it, under the handle. Hermione raised an eyebrow
but didn't say anything.

“So…” Harry said and sat down on his bed. Hermione did the same. “How has your summer been?
How's Ron?”

Hermione looked down, biting her lip.

“Oh, Harry, I don't know! It's been awful!” For a moment Harry was positive she was
joking.

“*Awful?”* Harry couldn't help but laugh. “I'm sure that's an over-“

“It *was!”* Hermione interrupted. “Ron's been acting so weird! He's *tailing*
me everywhere! I don't know what to do!”

Harry stared.

“And then he asked me to go out with him!” She cried, throwing up her hand in frustration.
Harry's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe it! Why hadn't he noticed? When Harry thought
about it, he saw that he should have seen it coming; Ron was often blushing and overreacting when
Hermione was around. But still, they always argued so much, how could they like each other? So Ron
was the one Hermione was dating. But why was she so frustrated then?

“So he's the one you are dating…” Harry mumbled, stating the obvious. He felt really stupid,
and somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he felt sick. He would be like a third wheel... His
friends would get married, have kids, and forget about him. But, on the other hand, it wasn't
very likely that Harry would live to see that day. That thought only made the sickness stronger.
His head was spinning so fast, he almost didn't register Hermione talking.

“I said I have to think about it.”

“Huh?” Harry said without thinking, his head snapping up so fast he felt his neck crack in
protest.

Hermione sighed.

“I told him I have to think about it. I was lying to your cousin.”

“Oh,” Harry said, unsure how he felt about that too. “What do you want? Do you-- you know- like
him?”

“I don't know, Harry! Sometimes I feel like there is something there, but then I think about
all the fighting, and…” She paused for a moment. “I'm not sure it would work between us.”
Suddenly Hermione flickered her ayes to Harry. “How do you feel about it?”

Harry gaped. He hadn't expected her to ask that. What was he supposed to say? Then he
remembered the Prophecy. Maybe it was meant to be…

“Erm,” he stuttered. “I- I think that might be a good idea.” His voice cracked a little at the
end. He couldn't stand to meet her eyes, his own eyes were threatening to swell up with tears,
something they rarely did. Why did they have to come now? But the thought of not living to see the
things he was supposed to see was almost unbearable. He didn't want to die… not in the hands of
Voldemort, knowing that it was his fault that the world would live in fear.

“Harry, is there something wrong?” Harry quickly looked up. A huge mistake. Hermione's eyes
widened in shock. Damn those tears, she must have seen…

“What's wrong, Harry? You can tell me.”

“It's nothing Hermione, nothing. It's just the whole situation, you know? With Voldemort
and everything…” Harry exhaled softly. At least some of it was true.

Hermione didn't buy it.

“There's something more Harry. I see it on your eyes.”

“Yes, there is. But I'm not ready to talk about it,” Harry moaned. ”But hey, really, if you
wanna be with Ron then I will not stand in the way.” He looked up at her and managed to give her a
weak smile. She smiled back, but still in a concerned way.

Hermione really looked different Harry noticed again, for the second time that day. Her hair
looked smooth, and reflected the light from the window. Her eyes were soft, deep and brown, her
lips hinted of carefulness and wisdom. She looked so different to how she did a month ago. She
looked so much older… and he had almost lost her because of his blindness...

He looked away, afraid to be caught staring. He looked at his arm instead; it was throbbing
painfully. He would get bruises... He stroked over it distantly, his mind swirling like it had done
so much those past weeks. Hermione also seemed to be lost in thought.

They didn't say anything for a long time, just enjoying each other's company. She took
his hand and placed it on her lap. It felt good to be held but strange all the same, like it was
something he shouldn't be doing.

“So…” Harry said, feeling he needed to break the silence. “When are you going back to the
Burrow?”

Hermione looked up at him. After a while she said, “I don't know… I wanna stay here with you
for a while, if that's okay with you that is?”

“Sure. I'd like that. But I'm warning you, the Dursleys are not really friendly,” Harry
said.

“I've realised that,” Hermione said.

-

At six o'clock they ate diner in the living room. Sometimes, when the Dursleys didn't
think Hermione noticed, they looked suspiciously at her, making Hermione sit deeper and deeper in
her chair as if she wished to just disappear. Harry couldn't blame her.

Once in a while, Dudley would shoot an evil look at Harry, a promise of mischief, pretty similar
to the look Fred and George had sometimes. Just add some evil and Dudley would look exactly like
them.

Vernon made a huge point in telling Hermione how *kind* they were to take Harry into their
house when his parents had died so *tragically* in a car crash. Hermione raised an
eyebrow.

Vernon would then tell her how *rude*, *useless* and *violent* Harry was.

“Right,” Hermione said through gritted teeth, a dangerous look behind her eyes. Harry thought
the whole situation was a bit funny and couldn't help but snicker under his breath.

“What's so funny boy?” Vernon demanded.

“Oh, nothing. Just thought about something,” Harry answered innocently.

Vernon made a sound that told him he didn't believe him.

“He *is* a danger you know,” he continued to Hermione. “I have heard him yelling in his
sleep.”

This caught both Hermione's and Harry's attention.

“He used to mutter certain words like `*Kill Him*,' `*Avada Kedavra'* and
something like `*curio*.' And then he laughs… wakes me up, he does!”

Harry froze. He knew Hermione knew Vernon had meant `*Avada Kedavra'* and
`*Crucio*', two of the Unforgivable Curses, which resulted in death and great pain. Harry
knew Vernon didn't lie. He had been the one to cast them in his dreams when he was and saw
through the eyes of Lord Voldemort.

Hermione glanced sideways over to where Harry was sitting. Harry looked down at his plate, not
daring to look up.

“But Dudley here,” Vernon continued, “never does anything wrong, isn't that true,
Duddie?”

“Yeah!” Dudley eagerly voted in, making Harry frown.

“I'm done, thanks,” Harry interrupted, and rose from the table. Hermione did the same thing
and then both she and Harry went outside to get some fresh air.

The sky was heavy with dark clouds, but at least it wasn't raining, for now. Harry wondered
whether or not he should hold Hermione's hand or something, but he decided not to. No point in
making things weird. They were just friends anyway, and Harry liked to keep it that way. *Why was
he even thinking about it?*

Suddenly Hermione grabbed his wrist, just where Vernon had grabbed it. Pain shot through Harry
and he flinched out of her grasp. Hermione eyes widened.

“Harry, what's wrong?” Harry really didn't like that people were always asking him
that.

“Nothing, I just hit my arm against something hard earlier today,” Harry said and involuntarily
shuddered.

“Oh,” Hermione said. “When? How?”

“It doesn't matter,” Harry said, with a clear `end of discussion' tone. “Come on,
let's go.”

And they went. After a while Hermione took Harry's hand again, a bit more carefully this
time. Harry closed his eyes in annoyance. *Couldn't she take a hint? Obviously not...* She
held his hand a little tighter. She was clearly nervous about something.

Harry stopped. “What is it Hermione?”

“I'm worried about you,” Hermione sighed, and looked up in his eyes as if she was searching
for some answers there. “Was what your Uncle said about you true?”

“Not everything,” Harry muttered, feeling the irritation flowing through his veins. “Only the
last part. -And *no,* I have not been practicing Occlumency.”

“But Harry-!”

“Just leave it, `Mione. I don't wanna talk about it.”

“Maybe you should!” Hermione insisted.

“NOT now, okay?” Harry let go of her hand.

Hermione looked hurt. Harry knew he should apologize. Damn.

“When I'm ready, you will be the first one to know,” Harry said. Hermione seemed to settle
with that.

-

-

Harry had never had anyone stay overnight with him before. At first, Petunia and Vernon had
insisted that Hermione should sleep in *Dudley's* room. Both Harry and Hermione had been
so frightened of the idea that they had refused. Harry even had said that he could sleep in the
living room.

For one or another reason the Dursleys didn't like that idea, so Hermione was to stay with
Harry.

Vernon made it clear to Harry that *if* Hermione got herself pregnant, Harry would be
moving straight out. Harry and Hermione got the almost impossible dark shade of red on their faces:
Harry with anger, Hermione probably with humiliation.

As soon as they could, they escaped upstairs.

“Argh!” Hermione said suddenly. “How do you *live* with them? They're horrible!”

“Well, actually,” Harry said. “It's better now than it was before. Until I started first
year at Hogwarts I used to live in the cupboard under the stairs.”

*“WHAT?”*

“Yeah…” Harry chuckled to himself. “Dudley used to have this room for all of his extra
toys.”

“I'm sorry Harry, I never knew...”

“What? No! Don't be! It's no problem really,” Harry smiled reassuringly to her, but all
he wanted to do right now was to go to bed.

He went to get something Hermione could sleep on and when he came back he saw her standing over
his OWL letter, but she hadn't opened it. She gave Harry the letter and watched as he opened it
carefully.

*-*

*-* Defense Against the Dark Arts: O

Theory: 0

Practical: 0

- Charms: O

Theory: 0

Practical: E

- Potions: E

Theory: E

Practical: E

*-* Transfiguration: E

Theory: A

Practical: E

*-* Herbology: A

Theory: E

Practical: A

- History Of Magic: P

Theory: P

Practical: -

*-* Astronomy: A

Theory: A

Practical: A

- Care Of Magical Creatures: E

Theory: A

Practical: O

- Divination: P

Theory: P

Practical: P

-

Harry let the letter down and gave it to Hermione, who eagerly accepted it. Harry looked down in
the envelope. There was another note there too.

-

*Mr. H. J Potter,*

*We are pleased to inform you that you are accepted in following NEWT classes:*

- Defense Against the Dark Arts

- Charms

- Potions

- Transfiguration

- Herbology

- Astronomy

- Care of Magical Creatures

*If you are still considering a career in being an Auror, I would recommend you to take these
classes:*

- Defense Against the Dark Arts

- Charms

- Potions

- Transfiguration

*Sign up which classes you want to attend and send replay before the 15th of August.*

Signed: **Prof. McGonagall**

-

Hermione beamed at him. “You made it! You made it!” She gave him a chest-breaking hug.
“That's *great* Harry!”

“Yeah, if I will live to see it!” Harry answered sarcastically before he thought about what he
was saying.

“What would you say something like that for? You're not thinking that you are going to die,
are you? If you only stay out of-”

“I *can't* and I *won't* stay out of trouble, Hermione!” Harry snapped. “And I
don't wanna talk about it!” Harry turned his back to her, staring angrily at the door.

“Harry, is there something that you are hiding from me?” asked Hermione from behind. Harry
didn't need to turn to know that her eyes were filled with tears. Damn those tears…

He felt her hand on his shoulder and tensed. He forced his shoulder to relax and turned
around.

“Look, Hermione, it's been a very long day, can't we just go to sleep?” It was very hard
to look into Hermione's sad eyes without looking somewhere else.

“Will you tell me tomorrow?” she asked. Harry felt as if he was pushed up into a corner.

“Maybe, Hermione. Maybe.”

-->



3. They Will Hunt You Down
--------------------------



Special thanks to Anna Rose and Rolephant.

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

- .

Chapter 3: **THEY WILL HUNT YOU DOWN**

*He was running down the corridors of Ministry of Magic.* *She killed Sirius - I'll
kill her!*

*“Where's the way out?”*

*A door opened and he ran through it. He saw the Golden Fountain Statue of a witch, wizard,
centaur, goblin and house-elf, and ... Bellatrix!*

*“Aaaaaah ...did you* love *him, little baby Potter?”*

*Hate! Anger!*

*“Crucio!”* *bellowed Harry.*

*Bellatrix screamed, but she wasn't in pain like she should be…*

*“You need to* *mean* *them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain - to
enjoy it - righteous anger won't hurt me for long-!“*

*Pain in his scar…*

*“YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME!* *Accio Prophecy!* *ACCIO
PROPHECY!”*

*Suddenly - Voldemort!*

*Voldemort's wand was pointing at Harry, Harry's own pointing uselessly at the floor
…he was going to die, and he knew it…*

*“I have nothing more to say to you, Potter,” said Voldemort quietly. “**Avada
Kedavra**!”*

*A jet of green light, but* *something* *blocked its way…the statue…*

*Dumbledore!*

Somebody was talking to Harry from a long distance, but who was it? It sounded familiar, but
Harry couldn't recognize the voice.

*Dumbledore and Voldemort dueling ... Voldemort disappeared ... Dumbledore looked scared ...
why?*

*THE PAIN! Pain cursed throughout his body… so badly he knew he was dying …he was blind …he
couldn't escape! He couldn't fight it …his body screaming for release ... PAIN!*

Harry screamed.

Suddenly he felt himself floating to the surface up from the darkness. The pain subsided
slowly.

He woke up, panting; his breath came in sharp rasps. He could breath again, he could actually
breath! He still couldn't see though… Harry suddenly realized that he wasn't wearing his
glasses and put them on with shaking hands. Slowly the world came into focus, and he saw with a
start a very scared-looking Hermione leaning over him.

“Harry?” She asked and straightened up. However, Harry heard something in the hall… Vernon
probably… *Vernon!*

“Damn!” Harry swore and jumped out from his bed, only just managing to put the chair in front of
the door before Vernon took his big hand on the handle a second later.

The world started to dance before Harry's eyes, and he noticed he was dizzy, very dizzy.
Blackness was threatening to wash over him again as it pressed over his eyes painfully…

He felt himself falling just as Hermione leapt over to him and grabbed him around his shoulders.
The blackness disappeared slowly and was replaced with a sick feeling in his stomach. He
shouldn't have fallen asleep… Hermione shouldn't have to see that, now she's going to
be *so* worried…

“Thanks `Mione, I'm okay now,” whispered Harry as he tried to sit down on his bed, but
Hermione wouldn't loosen her grip on him. Vernon was still banging on the door, demanding Harry
to be quiet.

Hermione slowly turned Harry around so they were face to face. Her hands were still around his
shoulder firmly like she was hugging him.

“No, you're not okay, you're not!” She said quietly, loosening her grip a little. Harry
opened his mouth to protest, to say that he was okay, but he couldn't find his voice so he
closed it again.

They were very close. He could see every inch of her face, every lash, every colour in her eyes.
They weren't just brown, they were also black, green and a little blue, he realized.

She licked her lip, and he suddenly wondered how it would be like to kiss her ... but that would
be wrong, he didn't like her that way - the way that Ron did. His stomach did an involuntarily
loop of guilt. He backed away, and she let him go. His breath was still rasping.

The clock displayed 5:24 am.

Harry sat down on the bed. Hermione hesitated for a second, but did the same thing.

“What did you dream?” asked Hermione after a while. “Was it another vision from
V-Voldemort?”

“No, just a memory from the night in Ministry of Magic,” Harry shrugged.

Hermione gaped, and suddenly she looked very scared, much more scared than she had looked when
Harry woke up. Harry cocked his head at her.

“But- but Harry! You were - I heard - I heard you say *Crucio!”*

“Oh, yeah, I guess I forgot to tell you about that…” Harry groaned and put his head in his
hands. “I tried to use it on Bellatrix, after she -you know -did that thing to Sirius… It
didn't work though…”

That didn't seem to cheer up Hermione at all.

“You used an *UNFORGIVABLE?”* she cried.

“Yes! I just told you, remember?” said Harry mockingly. He didn't want to talk about it
anymore.

“Oh, Harry! You can be thrown into Azkaban!”

“You're not going to tell on me, are you?” asked Harry, a little frightened. She had told on
him before.

“Of course not, how can you even think that?” Hermione said, her tone a little hurt.

Harry shrugged. “I don't. It's not exactly something I'm proud of, I just didn't
know what to do.”

“What did they want anyway? Some kind of Prophecy?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” said Harry slowly. He didn't want that conversation to go any further either.

“What did it say? I heard it broke or something?” asked Hermione again.

“I can't talk about it `Mione,” said Harry with a sigh.

“Why not?”

“Voldemort tried to get his hands on that Prophecy for over a year,” said Harry without looking
at her. “If he suspects that you know it he wouldn't stop before he got you, not now. They will
hunt you down, and when they've done that they'll kill you and your family. You know I
can't let that happen.”

Hermione stared at him, her mouth forming an `o'.

“I'm going to take a shower,” said Harry quietly and he left the room. Hermione seemed to be
lost in thought and didn't say anything.

-

A shower was just what he needed. As the water hit him softly, he felt the pain from his dream
ease its grip on him.

When he was done he realized that he had forgotten his shirt in his room. Fairly embarrassed, he
knocked on his door and asked Hermione if it was okay for him to get it.

Hermione let him in with a smile, and Harry went to his wardrobe to get his shirt. Suddenly he
heard Hermione gasp in shock, and he spun around quickly, instantly prepared to defend her for
whatever danger that was threatening. Instead he saw Hermione looking at him with wide eyes.

*“Where in the world did you get all those bruises?”* she exclaimed. Harry felt his face
redden in anger and humiliation. He didn't need her to feel sorry for him.

“I'm *fine,”* he snapped. “I just fell down the stairs, that's all.”

Hermione didn't seem to believe him.

“Just like that?” she asked, not able to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

“Er… Dudley pushed me down actually, but that doesn't matter - it was my fault! Really - I
wasn't paying attention!” Harry cut her off.

“I can't believe he'd do such a thing!” cried Hermione angrily.

“You can't? Anyway, he hasn't been so bad than the past years,“ said Harry in an attempt
to calm her down. “It was much worse before I found out that I was a wizard.”

Harry's attempt to calm her down didn't help. On the other hand, she seemed much more
terrified that Dudley could be *worse.* Her eyes glittered dangerously.

Harry sighed and found the shirt he originally was looking for and put it on. When he turned
around he found Hermione standing very close to him.

“I have an idea,” said Hermione, a wicked smile spreading on her face. “What do you say to go
out to a muggle - restaurant tonight?” Then she added: “I think it would do us good to get out of
here for a while, don't you think?”

Harry couldn't help but agree. However, the words `go out' rang in his mind for a long
time.

-

-

The day went somewhat faster compared to what they were used to since Harry had come home from
Hogwarts. Later that afternoon, Hedwig and two more owls came back with Harry's birthday
presents. Harry couldn't help but to be surprised, he had completely forgotten that it was his
birthday. *One more year and he could finally use magic outside of school!*

His gift from Ron was a miniature figure of…Harry himself actually. Harry stared fascinated at
the figure in several minutes before he opened the other gifts Hedwig had brought with her.

From the Weasleys he'd gotten a lot of cookies. From Lupin, he gotten a book named
`*Advanced Spells and Curses.'* He had gotten some kind of amulet and a birthday cake from
Hagrid, to both Harry's and Hermione's bemusement. Harry had actually gotten a gift from
Tonks too, which was also a book: `*What You Need to Know to Become an Auror.'*'

Hermione was very interested in the books, but it was an hour before they were supposed to go
out (as friends, they both agreed to) so she had to go to the bathroom to get ready. Harry used the
opportunity to get a peak inside the book from Tonks.

-

Hermione was done after forty minutes. Harry still couldn't see why girls had the patience
to use such a long time in a *bathroom*, but she looked amazing.

She wore a black skirt, which fell down to her knees, and a red top with a V-form under her
neck. Her hair was in a fluffy ponytail with a few hair locks in the front, which, Harry noticed,
framed her face. Her face looked different too, in a good way, but Harry couldn't put his
finger on it. He wondered briefly if she had put on some make-up.

Harry, who had never seen her dress anything like that just to go out and eat, gaped at her.

“What do you think?” asked Hermione, and spun around, making her hair flow around her neck.

“You look…” Harry started hesitantly, not really knowing what to say. He paused another moment
before simply saying, “Beautiful.”

-

-

They took the famous Knight Bus to where they were going. The bus was quite full, and Harry
noticed that many people looked over at them curiously. Harry wasn't sure if they were staring
at Hermione or himself.

-

It didn't even take ten minutes before they were standing in front of their restaurant.

A *`Partner At Hand'* sign was glowing with brilliant yellow neon light. Hermione and
Harry stared, fascinated at it as it changed colour from yellow to red, and from red to blue.

Hermione took Harry's hand and guided him into the first restaurant he had ever been in.

“SURPRISE!”

Harry stopped dumbstruck in his footsteps. Inside he saw Molly and Arthur Weasley, with Ron,
Ginny, Fred and George grinning up at him. Beside them Harry also saw Tonks, Lupin, Dumbledore,
Kingsley Shacklebolt and Moody. Over their heads Harry saw a large banner, with the words `HAPPY
BIRTHDAY HARRY!” written with big letters.

Hermione gave a small squeeze of Harry's hand before she let go, leaving Harry to stand in
front of the door alone and gaping.

“Hi Mate!” said Ron, still grinning, as he walked over to Harry.

“Uh,” said Harry, his brain not working. He had never, ever had birthday party before.

“Good to see that you haven't gotten any smarter over the summer,” said George,
grinning.

“Yeah,” said Fred. “We were afraid you would turn out like Percy, mate!”

“Uh-uh,” said Harry and, finally finding his brain and talk abilities again, added thoughtfully:
“Percy? I don't think so.”

Fred, George and Ron laughed.

“Hi Harry!” said Ginny, grinning up at him. Ginny had also changed over the summer, Harry
realized. She had cut her hair, and she also used some make-up, making her lashes look longer and
darker and her lips redder.

“You look good,” said Harry politely, remembering the mistake he had done to Hermione.

“Thanks!” said Ginny and blushed slightly.

“So,” said Ron, as he gave Harry a small punch in his back, making Harry flinch. “How has your
summer been? We were planning a new rescue mission if we didn't hear from you soon!”

“Oh,” Harry said. “The Dursleys are okay. I'm all right. It's been a bit better since
Hermione has been there, though-” Harry stopped abruptly then, not because Ron had said anything,
but by the way he *looked.* Ron's grin had faded away from his face, and he was red with
fury.

“Hermione is staying with *you?*” asked Ron incredulously. Harry stared at his best male
friend. *Hadn't Hermione said anything?*

“Yeah,” said Harry slowly. “But only for a day or two. You're not my *only* best
friend, you know! She has all the right to stay there if she wants to!”

Out in the corner of his eye Harry saw Fred, George and Ginny backing away slowly.

Ron opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley who called Harry over. Harry,
thankful for the excuse, walked over to her.

“Harry dear, how are you?” asked Molly as she pulled Harry in to a tight hug.

“I'm fine, thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Harry said and pulled out from the hug.

“WOTCHER, Harry!” said Tonks and leapt behind him, her arms waving in all directions. Harry
jumped in fright.

“*Constant Vigilance!”* Harry heard Moody growl from somewhere in the room.

“Tonks!” exclaimed Harry. “What did you do that for?”

Tonks only grinned. “How'd you like the gift?”

“Oh!” said Harry. “It was great, thank you! But you really didn't have to-“

“Oh, it's no problem! I'm happy to!” Tonks waved him off.

“Hello Harry,” said a deep voice behind him, and Harry turned around.

“Headmaster,” said Harry nodded politely, still feeling resentful against the old
Headmaster.

“How are you doing?”

“Okay,” answered Harry quietly, remembering all too clearly what had happened the last time he
had seen Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded and walked over to Lupin*. Probably to ask the same
thing,* thought Harry and frowned.

-

After a while of talking and greetings, everyone gathered around a big table. Two waiters came
over to them with a large plate of fruit, bread and drinks. Hermione sat down carefully next to
Harry, and Ron sat beside her and Molly. Arthur sat down on the other side of Harry, and Ginny sat
on the other side, looking a bit disappointed. Harry noticed that Hermione avoided eye contact with
him as well as with Ron. *So she hadn't told him then.*

After they had ordered and eaten the delicious food, the lights turned down and music started to
play in the background.

“Do you wanna dance, Harry?” asked Hermione, receiving ugly looks from Ron and Ginny. Harry
hesitated for a moment.

“Sure,” he said at last. “But I'm warning you, I'm a *terrible* dancer!”

Hermione smiled, and Harry couldn't help but notice how beautiful her smile was.

“That's okay, Harry, I'll guide you,” she said as she reached out a hand and helped
Harry out from the chair. Harry felt a weird, tickling sensation in his hand as he held onto her
hand. He frowned slightly, he couldn't understand why he had that weird feeling in his hand…
maybe someone had put something in his drink?

Out on the dance floor Harry felt pretty uncomfortable, but Hermione acted like she had done it
a thousand of times and pulled Harry's hands on her waist and her own on his shoulders and
slowly started moving her legs in time with the music. Harry struggled to follow, but after a while
he actually managed to get the hang on it without stepping on her toes.

It didn't take long before Tonks, Shacklebolt, Molly, Ron and Ginny all joined the dance
floor.

Hermione sighed and rested her head on Harry's shoulder. He closed his eyes and smelled in
the scent of her, her hair tickling his nose slightly. Feeling Hermione's body against him made
him feel strange. Not like the feeling he had whenever Cho had been near him, but something else he
couldn't put his finger on. The more they danced the more he felt he could relax.

He listened to the words of the song that played in the background a bit.

*If I see you next to never*

*How can we say forever?*

*Wherever you go*

*Whatever you do*

*I will be right here waiting for you*

*So this was how it was like to have a normal life,* Harry thought sadly as he pulled
Hermione a little closer at the thought of losing her. This was how his life could've been if
he hadn't been Harry Potter, The-Doomed-Boy-Who-Lived. He could have had a life without the
fear of losing the people he cared about, but he couldn't simply because he was the
Boy-Who-Lived. Harry couldn't stand to lose any of his friends; he would die for them without a
second thought.

*I took for granted, all the times*

*That I thought would last somehow*

*I hear the laughter, I taste the tears*

*But I can't get near you now*

And he would die, probably. He had no chance to win against Voldemort; Voldemort was too strong,
too powerful, and too dangerous. The times he had met Voldemort he hadn't actually fought much
against him, he had only escaped or gotten help in the right moment. He would be dead now if it
hadn't been for Dumbledore.

*Whatever it takes*

*Or how my heart breaks*

*I will be right here waiting for you*

*I wonder how we can survive*

*This romance*

*But in the end if I'm with you*

*I'll take the chance*

It was ironic how *well* that song fitted to his life.

-

Harry wanted the moment to last forever, but after two more songs Ron came over and asked
Hermione to dance. She hesitated, but Harry gave her a nod she accepted, leaving Harry alone on the
dance floor.

He didn't need to stand there alone for long, however, because Ginny came over and asked if
he wanted to dance with her. Harry, a little embarrassed and not really wanting to, accepted. Ginny
beamed up at him and they started to dance.

Dancing with Ginny was much different compared to dancing with Hermione. For one thing, Hermione
was taller and Ginny was tiny, with very small hands. Her scent reminded Harry faintly of
strawberries.

After a while Ginny did the same thing as Hermione had and rested her head on Harry's chest.
When Harry looked up he saw Tonks, still dancing with Lupin, grinning teasingly up at him and gave
him a thumbs-up. Harry glared at her angrily and felt himself going red. Luckily it was rather
dark, so nobody noticed.

After one more song Harry began to hear the unmistakable sounds of Hermione and Ron arguing.
Harry broke off the dance, as all the other pairs had already done.

Hermione and Ron shouted something to each other, both equally red in their faces. Suddenly
Hermione turned around and ran towards the exit, her eyes full of tears. Harry sighed.

“I better go after her Gin, I'm sorry.”

“That's okay. Thank you for the dance,” said Ginny. She gave him a small hug before he
followed Hermione towards the exit.

-->



4. Night Actions
----------------



Special thanks to Anna Rose and Rolephant.

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

**- .**

Chapter 4: **NIGHT ACTIONS**

Harry found Hermione sitting on a fence, the '*Partner At Hand'* sign reflecting
her angry face. Harry suppressed a new sigh and sat down beside her.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Hermione unconvincingly. "Ron's just being a prat about me
staying with you and all."

Harry carefully laid an arm around her shoulder, and she turned around to face him, her eyes
glittered with angry tears.

"It's not like I'm his *girlfriend,* you know. And even if I was, he still
wouldn't have the right to keep me away from you! That's not fair!"

Harry noticed that he, too, was getting angry at Ron.

"He has no right to treat you like his property, Hermione," he said heavily, closing
his eyes slightly in agitation. Hermione nodded, and a silent tear ran down her skin. Harry took it
away with a touch of his hand without thinking, and Hermione involuntarily shuddered.

"I hate this!" she said a bit more softly, with her eyes tightly shut.

"Yeah,” said Harry. "I hate it too. Life's too short for stupid, unimportant
things like that."

Hermione opened her eyes at this, and Harry could see realization lighting her eyes like a fire,
just like it did when someone asked a rather difficult question that she knew the answer to. She
leant forward to give him a hug, and Harry hugged her back, holding on just as tight as she was,
enjoying how warm she could make him feel. After a while Hermione let go a little so they were face
to face, only some inches apart. Unexpectedly, Harry's stomach did a huge lurch, and his
heartbeat raced up drastically. He couldn't move even if he wanted to, all he could do was
study her; she was so cute, her skin was so soft, her eyes so deep...

The sign made her face turn red, blue, green...

Then, before Harry could collect himself, the space between them was gone. With a start Harry
realized they were kissing each other, their lips pressing against each other softly. *This is
insane, this is insane,* his mind told him, but it also told him: *this is so right, so
right...* Harry was utterly confused, but he didn't let go or back away. His brain seemed to
have gone on a vacation or something, and it didn't help him at all.

It was very different from kissing Cho. First of all, it wasn't nearly as wet. Second of
all, it didn't feel the same. Harry couldn't tell *why* it felt different, it just
did. Harry didn't know, nor did he care right now.

Hermione opened her mouth a little and Harry pulled deeper down into the kiss, lost in the
sensation, their tongues touching slightly, exploring.

Suddenly Harry heard something that sounded very much like a stick being broken, and his brain
abruptly returned to him. He broke off the kiss, and in the next moment he knew something was
blinding him.

*Snap! Snap! Snap!*

"What's- oh!" said Hermione, holding a hand in front of her eyes, and she
gasped.

In front of them there were at least ten reporters, holding their cameras and taking pictures as
fast as they could.

"Oh no..." muttered Harry; this was the last thing they needed right now. He stood up,
blocking Hermione from the reporters view.

"Harry! Hermione! You're missing the-“ Tonks yelled from the entrance and halted.
“What's going on?" Her eyes widened when she saw the reporters, but reacted fast.
"*LUMOS*!" Brilliant light erupted from her wand, blinding the reporters so they
couldn't take pictures. But something wasn't right... *why did they scream?*

Harry turned his eyes from Tonks to look behind them, and he froze with terror.

The whole area was lit with curses. Red and green curses were flying over their heads from every
direction; some people ran, some Disapparated, and someone dropped to the ground -probably dead.
Harry felt his insides turn to ice. This could only mean one thing - Death Eaters.

There was no way Tonks could have caused something like this.

Harry didn't even blink before he jumped in front of Hermione and pushed her to the ground,
only a second before a green killing curse hit the fence they just had been sitting on.

"*STUPEFY*!" shouted Harry and threw the curse from where he imagined the green
light had came from, but it was too dark for him to see if he had succeeded or not, nor did he try
to look. Hermione had scrambled to her knees at this point and was frantically searching for her
wand, but Harry grabbed her hand, pulled hard, and together they ran as fast as they could towards
the entrance of '*Partner At Hand'.*

"GET HELP! WARN THE OTHERS!" Tonks shouted at them as soon as they reached her, while
she dodged a new spell. Hermione did as she said and continued in, but Harry stopped - his hand
leaving Hermione's - and shouted back:

"I'M NOT LEAVING YOU! I'M FIGHTING!” *How could he ever forgive himself if
something happened to Tonks just because he tried to save his own butt when the Death Eaters might
not even be able kill him? Unless Voldemort was among them somewhere... Either must die at the hand
of the other...*

Harry started throwing spells at random. He guessed that there weren't many innocents left.
Kingsley, Moody, Lupin and Mr. Weasley came quickly to help them, hiding behind the doors and
throwing spells like Harry.

"*Get IN, Harry!"* hissed Moody as he threw a new curse.

"NO!" shouted Harry. *Why couldn't they just accept the fact that he wanted to
help?* Moody scowled; there was no time to argue.

"FINE THEN! USE THE MEMORY CHARM! MEMORY CHARM, HARRY! IT'S-"

"*OBLIVIATE*!" shouted Harry, remembering the spell Lockhart had tried to use on
him and Ron during his second year.

"-*that one,*" ended Moody, and his eyes widened in relief.
"Dumbledore!"

Harry spun around and faced Dumbledore, who looked just as powerful as he had in Ministry of
Magic. *They were saved!*

But then, at the same moment, three jets of killing curses were thrown at them.

There was no time to think; everyone cast himself or herself on the floor, but one of them
wasn't quick enough.

Two of the killing curses hit Kingsley, who had been standing behind Moody at the time, in the
chest. Kingsley hadn't seen the killing curses in time.

"NO!" roared Harry, but it was too late. Kingsley Shacklebolt's dead body hit the
floor with a soft thump*.*

*No... Not another one!* Harry thought desperately, and he turned his head so he
couldn't see Kingsley's surprised dead eyes staring blankly at him. Death seemed to be
following him everywhere...

Dumbledore didn't cast a second glance at Kingsley or anyone else. He flicked his wand in a
very complex way, and something large and blue covered them all like a shield. The shield grew
larger and faster until it reached the fence - it was like time and sounds were kept outside -
then, suddenly, the whole thing exploded inside-out with a loud *bang.*

The Death Eaters disappeared with several *pops*, leaving nothing but a few Stunned, dead
or injured bodies behind.

Harry got to his feet, panting, carefully avoiding the crawled body on the floor. His body was
shaking uncontrollably, his head was buzzing.

"Harry?" said Dumbledore, looking gently down at him. "Are you all
right?"

"Huh? Oh, yes Headmaster, I'm doing fine, I- I think I- I think I'll- just go
inside or something... Yes, I could do that..." stuttered Harry, not really aware of what he
was saying.

"Yes, do that. I will see you soon," said Dumbledore quietly, his eyes missing the
usual spark, as he turned to talk to Tonks, who was sobbing hysterically.

"He was my trainer! He helped me - I wouldn't have been an Auror if it hadn't been
for him, oh Dumbledore, why did he have to die? He was like a father to me! WHY DID HE HAVE TO
DIE?"

Harry turned away from the scene and walked inside, not really noticing where he was going.

He almost walked straight into Hermione, Ron and Ginny.

"Harry!" cried Hermione as she threw herself around Harry's neck and squeezed him
so tight that he couldn't breath.

"He's *dead! Kingsley's dead!"* mumbled Harry, not really eager to talk
about it, but he knew he couldn't hide something like that from them anyway.

"What?" gasped Ginny, her hand covering her mouth in shock. Ron just stared dumbly,
and Hermione started to sob on Harry's shoulder.

"Oh Harry! I'm so sorry," said Hermione between her sobs. "I shouldn't ha
- have gone in, I thought you w-were just behind me, honestly, if I knew I would *of
course*-"

"Then you too could've been killed, and I wouldn't be able to handle that,"
interrupted Harry, and he continued: "Not if any of you..."

"I don't know what I would've done without you, Harry!" Hermione wept.

"No, mate, if you died-" started Ron, but stopped abruptly. Harry had torn himself
from Hermione, and a look mixed of anger, sadness, and something else flickered behind Harry's
emerald eyes, making his eyes to seem much darker than usual.

"Then *what*?" said Harry bitterly. "When I die-"

"*If,"* corrected Hermione, and she tried to brush off her tears with her
hand.

"No, *when* I die," said Harry and gave Hermione a warned look. "You have to
continue without me. You must take care of each other, and not, *ever,* give up! *Do you
understand? You - can't - give - up!* Use the life you have left and-*”* Harry suddenly
realized he had said way too much, and he had also, if that wasn't enough, yelled the last bit.
He felt his face turn red, and it started to sting behind his eyes.

"I've got to go..." Harry choked out, walking as quickly as he dared from the
stunned faces, who were staring at him with opened mouths and big eyes.

-

Harry didn't know where to go exactly, but he escaped into the men's room and locked
himself in. At least here nobody could come and ask him questions. At least there he could be alone
and collect himself...

Harry sat down on the toilet seat and rubbed his forehead between his hands. His scar was
throbbing painfully, and Harry could tell that Voldemort was both pleased and disappointed. Harry
wasn't surprised. After all, Voldemort had one less Auror to worry about, but he still
hadn't managed to get his hands on Harry.

"Oh, just *stop* it already!" cried Harry to no one in particular.

He tried very hard not to think about what had just happened, but his mind was constantly
turning towards Kingsley's dead body and everybody else Harry had seen die. Harry could have
prevented them all... Why did he have to let Wormtail go that night two years ago? If he
hadn't, if he hadn't been such a *coward,* Wormtail would *never* have had the
chance to rejoin his master, and then Voldemort probably wouldn't have returned for a long,
long time. That time could have been what Harry needed to learn more magic, and he would have had a
much, much better chance against Voldemort...

Harry groaned angrily. He could practically feel an angry, red ball growing inside his stomach.
Yes, he should and he could have managed to save them, but he had failed. He had failed in so many
things that he couldn't even count them anymore, and he had yet the largest failure to do. The
Magical world was doomed! So doomed! Harry would die, no matter what he did, no matter how much he
learned. Why should he even try? Why should he torture himself with that? He was only sixteen for
Merlin's sake, not even a legal adult! He was only a teenager.

Yes, Voldemort had screwed things up when Harry was a baby, but Voldemort was hardly one who
made the same mistake twice.

Harry looked down at his wand; it was still warm from the battle. Could he even cast the Killing
spell? Could he... cast it on himself?

Harry waited for the feeling of dread that a thought like that should bring, but no such feeling
came to him - instead he felt strangely calm. *Why was that? It couldn't be right.*

Suddenly Harry heard Dumbledore's voice down the hall. "Where is Harry? I need to talk
to him right away!"

Harry gaped at Dumbledore's urgent voice. He had never heard Dumbledore talk like that
before, not even to Voldemort. Had somebody else died? Alarmed, Harry opened the door and went out
in the hall.

"I'm here," said Harry, and Dumbledore immediately looked relieved.

"What's going on?" asked Harry, more worried than ever.

"Harry," said Dumbledore and grabbed Harry's shoulder. Harry swallowed hard and
tried to ignore the feeling of hatred that no doubt came from Voldemort. "I know this is
hard,” Dumbledore continued, and it took a minute before Harry realized that Dumbledore was talking
about Kingsley and not the strange hatred Harry felt, “And that it is hard to be patient and not to
blame yourself, but you have to promise me, that you will never, *ever,* try to do something
on your own. Not without telling anybody where you are going, or what you are going to do,"
Dumbledore paused a moment and looked intently at Harry, "And you must promise me; that you
will stop blaming yourself for things that happens that you have no control over. It is *not*
your fault that Cedric, Sirius, and Kingsley for that matter, died - yes," Dumbledore said
when Harry opened his mouth to protest, "-it could have been prevented, however, in war people
are bound to die. You did not want them to die - you would not have let them either if you could -
so *stop blaming yourself!* If you want to blame someone, then blame Voldemort, or even
myself," Dumbledore paused for a moment again and a sad expression appeared in his eyes,
"Believe it or not, I know what you are going through, I have gone through the same things
myself."

"What happened?" asked Harry without thinking, his curiosity acting first. He had
never heard Dumbledore talk like that.

"Just do what I told you, Harry. Life is too short to use it to drown yourself in
guilt."

Harry frowned. Of course he knew that life is short! He had even used the same words himself an
hour earlier, before he and Hermione ... *oh God...*

Dumbledore looked at Harry over his half-moon-glasses, nodded, and left Harry very confused.

-

-

*What a birthday*, Harry thought to himself with a sigh, as he laid himself to sleep on his
bed, back in number four Privet Drive. He had expected to fall asleep right away since it had
happened so much, and he was so tired, but for one or another reason the adrenaline was still
flowing through Harry's body, making his heart beat much faster than normal sleeping modus.

Harry had been to his first birthday-party ever, he and Hermione had kissed - oh, how was he
ever going to face her again now? - the reporters, the fight, Kingsley dying, Dumbledore's
advice... taking a portkey home, scaring the Dursleys' out of their own skin... Harry chuckled
slightly at the memory, but the chuckle died in his throat almost instantly.

He turned around in his bed, and looked at the empty bed beside him, where Hermione had slept.
It felt empty without her... However, having her there with him now would be awkward.

Hermione hadn't come back with him because she felt she should spend a little more time with
her parents while she could. Harry didn't blame her, but he doubted that was the only
reason.

Harry knew he ought to say sorry for what had happened, and he didn't know how Hermione
would react to that... What if he hurt her feelings? And what about Ron? Merlin, Ron was the one
who liked Hermione, not Harry! Right?

Everybody had been grieving the rest of the evening. Harry couldn't get Tonks hysterically
sobbing out of his head... she had said that Kingsley had been like a father to her... now, he too,
was gone.

Harry turned over again, and he finally felt sleep start to reach him. However, Harry didn't
want to wake up to nightmares again, he was sick of them.

Desperately, he tried to empty his mind, to only imagine a black wall ... Hedwig hooted softly
in the distance...

-

-

Harry woke up after a (nearly) dreamless night when an owl from the *Daily Prophet* soared
through his window. Harry put on his glasses, paid the owl, and gasped:

He and Hermione were on the front page: he was laying on top of Hermione and throwing the
Stunning curse somewhere in the dark.

*THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED IN A FIGHT WITH DEATH EATERS TO PROTECT HIS GIRLFRIEND, page 2-4,*

The front letters and the pictures took almost all of the space, but in a corner of the paper,
almost not visible, Harry saw what he was looking for:

*ONE AUROR KILLED, page 7,*

Harry quickly turned to the right page.

*KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT KILLED*

*Last night, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Dumbledore and several other people were attacked by at least
six Death Eaters. Some of our reporters were already there, because of a tip from someone who had
seen Harry Potter and his girlfriend, Hermione Granger, on the Knight Bus earlier that night.
However, most of our reporters were surprised by the attack and fled, except one who remained
hidden and saw what happened. 'They fought well, but Kingsley Shacklebolt was unlucky,'
Adam Sanders says to the* Daily Prophet*.*

*Kingsley Shacklebolt, a faithful and highly respected Auror of the Ministry Of Magic for the
last forty years, died when two killing curses hit him. 'The next second Dumbledore did
something amazing with his wand and created some kind of shield that exploded, and four of the six
Death Eaters escaped. The reminding two has been taken care of,' explains Arthur Weasley, one
of the ones who fought against the Death Eaters, also employed in the Ministry of Magic.*

*Nymphadora Tonks, Remus John Lupin, and Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody were also fighting
against You-Know-Who's supporters, all of them are still alive and are without any serious
injures.*

Harry sighed heavily, and turned to page two, where two large pictures, one of him and Hermione
sitting very close while holding hands, and the other picture was the same as the one that was on
the front page. Harry looked at it for about two seconds before he threw the newspaper away. He
didn't want to read it. Things were getting too much complicated.

-

Harry used the next two hours reading, but after a while he started to wonder why he hadn't
gotten an owl or something since he had used magic last night. Did that mean he was allowed to use
it, or was it only because it had been in mortal peril? He didn't know, but he wasn't eager
to press his luck any more than he already had done, no matter how much he longed to try some of
the spells in the books.

After a while of just laying in his bed, without doing anything particular but to think about
the present, past and future situation, he got dressed and went downstairs. The Dursleys sat around
the breakfast-table; Vernon reading the newspaper, Dudley trying to put as much as he could into
his mouth at once, and Petunia sipping her coffee. Not one of them bothered to look up when Harry
entered the room, and Harry ignored them and sat down by the table, quickly grabbing some food.

Harry ate the food as fast as he could. He was eager to get away. He almost gave Dudley a run
for his money.

Harry looked carefully up at Vernon. He had expected Vernon to give him a piece of his mind
somehow, after what had happened yesterday when Harry had entered the living room, `out of thin
air,' but none of the Dursleys said a thing. Grateful, Harry cleared his plate and went down to
the basement, where he started to punch the punching bag with more force than ever.

-

-

After two hours Harry heard with a start, someone - sounding very much like Petunia - cry out
from upstairs. Harry quickly took off the punching gloves and went upstairs, where he met some very
frightened looking Dursleys' and a very friendly-looking Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore!" Harry exclaimed and closed the basement door, receiving another nasty
look from Vernon and one from Dudley.

"We have some important matters to discuss," Dumbledore announced, making it deadly
quiet in the room.

-->



5. The Gift From Sirius
-----------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Special thanks to Anna Rose and Kez.

-

Chapter 5: **THE GIFT FROM SIRIUS**

“Something wrong?” asked Harry, suddenly preparing himself for the worst. *Had there been
another attack? Had somebody else died? What was going on?* He shot a quick glance at the
Dursleys and saw them looking between him and Dumbledore nervously.

“Let me explain first, Harry,” said Dumbledore, as he went into the living room and conjured a
chair, completely out of thin air. Harry ignored Petunia's and Dudley's yelps and sat down
on the couch.

“What I have come to discuss,” said Dumbledore, peering at Harry over his spectacles. “Is
Sirius' will.”

The effect on Harry was immediate; as soon as he heard Dumbledore's words his insides turned
to ice and he started to shiver. He didn't want to think about Sirius! Why couldn't
everybody just leave him alone and let him deal with it himself? He didn't want anything from
him! He was the reason Sirius had died!

“Sirius has left you quite a lot, Harry,” continued Dumbledore. “Half of his money in the vault
is yours and has already been transferred to your own vault. Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger got two
thousand Galleons each, and Remus received the rest of the money. However, there is more-“
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he said this “-he has also left the house in Grimmauld Place to
you and something that you can find outside.”

Harry looked up at this, unable to stop himself from getting curious. What else could it
possibly be?

“However, before you go and see it, there is something else you ought to know.”

Harry suppressed a snort.

Dumbledore let out a small sigh as though he knew exactly what Harry was thinking (something
that wasn't unlikely) and suddenly he sounded much more serious.

“Harry, this is not common knowledge yet, very few knows about this. Last night, just after
Kingsley died, Fudge was sacked. He has been replaced by Mrs. Bones. Now, it is not certain Mrs.
Bones will keep the job - that depends on The Selection in the end of September - for now she is
only a substitute.

“However, as soon as I heard about it, she and I had a talk. In the end we both agreed to make
an exception of the rules, and allow you to practice magic during the rest of the holidays as an
adult. You need to be able to take care and defend yourself at these times.”

Harry had to keep himself from leaping up from the couch and giving the old wizard a huge hug.
He couldn't believe what he was hearing! His head immediately started to spin with all the
things he could do, but Dumbledore wasn't finished.

“You must remember, however, that this brings great responsibility. You will be considered as a
legal adult and you must not misuse this in any way. The consequences will be great.”

“Does that mean that I'm allowed to join the Order?” Harry asked eagerly, sitting at the
edge of the couch.

“Alas - no,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. “You cannot. You have enough to deal with at
the moment.”

Harry nodded, only slightly disappointed. He shot a quick glance at the Dursleys, who now stood
in a corner, holding on to each other, rigid with fear. Harry smiled. *Oh yeah, this will be
fun...*

However, Harry suddenly thought of something else. “Sir? Is there anyway possible that I can get
training lessons? I've been reading about some spells I'd like to try out, but I need
someone to train me.”

Dumbledore thought for a moment. “I'm sure that can be arranged. I can train you personally
about three days a week.”

Harry's stomach turned over in excitement. “Great! When can we start?”

Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's eagerness. “I have some time tomorrow. But I suggest that we
do this in Grimmauld Place.”

“Alright...” said Harry slowly. He didn't really want to go back to that place, but if that
was the only way he could get some training done he didn't have much choice.

“You will have plenty of time to study there,” said Dumbledore, again reading Harry's mind.
“The house is empty with the exception of Mr. Lupin and the Grangers, since it is not safe for them
to live in their homes at the moment.”

Harry nodded and felt his stomach do another turn at the thought of seeing Hermione after what
happened last night. He had crossed the line. What would he ever do if she abandoned him?

“How are we getting there?” Harry asked, remembering the cold flight last year and not exactly
eager to do another one. Especially not without his broom, Harry reminded himself sadly.

“I will use Fawkes,” Dumbledore replied. “However, I dare say you would rather use the last gift
Sirius can give you. It is waiting for you right outside.”

Harry nodded weakly.

“When do you prefer to leave?”

“Oh,” said Harry, his mind elsewhere. He cleared his throat. “I guess I can leave in an hour or
two. I just ... need to pack first.”

“Very well, be careful about how you use the gift,” said Dumbledore softly, and he disappeared
with a quiet *pop.*

Harry stayed in his seat for a while, thinking the whole situation over. So much had happened at
once.

The Dursleys, who had been strangely quiet the whole time, still stared at the spot where
Dumbledore had been, not daring to move at all.

Harry quietly went up to his room to get his wand. He was feeling exceedingly excited because
now he had the oppertunity to do what he had dreamed about for so long. He was legal. He was
independent.

The first thing he would do was to check out the gift from Sirius, he decided, but he halted
when he came to the front door. Something was holding him back. *The last thing...*

Closing his eyes and ignoring the lump that had formed in his throat, Harry opened the door and
stepped outside.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and gasped.

There, standing right in front of him, was the coolest motorcycle he had ever seen!

It was large, and it had a beautiful black colour that reflected the light. It had a powerful
engine and a wide, long black seat that were both probably made of skin and looked deadly
comfortable. Harry didn't know a lot about motorcycles, but it was obvious that this was not
something everybody could afford. It did, however, feel like he had seen the bike before.
Strange.

With eyes wide of wonder, Harry moved his look to the front of the bike, where a note hung from
one of its handles. Harry removed the note from the bike and read it with shaking hands. It was
from Lupin:

`

*Harry,*

*Sirius would have wanted you to have this. I hope you will enjoy it as much as he did, and
take good care of it.*

*Take care,*

*Remus.*

`

Harry dried his chin with the back of his hand. *I hope you will enjoy it as much as he
did...* he could practically hear Lupin saying it to him and he could imagine Sirius; face
written with joy and pride, as he rode the bike so fast that he would be gone with the blink of an
eye, his rough mane of hair struggling against the wind. Gone...

Harry looked over at the bike again, longing to ride it.

But before that, he had other things to do.

-

-

The packing didn't take a great deal of time; Harry hadn't unpacked much of his school
stuff, so all he really needed to do was to pack his clothes and books down in his trunk. Harry
enjoyed very much the fact that he could use a Levitation charm on the suitcase, instead of
carrying it down the stairs. Petunia, who did the mistake on passing the stairs with a plate of
fruit in the exact moment as Harry made his way down the stairs with the suitcase levitating in
front of him, dropped the plate of fruit with a shriek. The fruit fell to the floor and rolled in
every direction, while the plate broke.

Petunia was furious: “YOU'LL CLEAN THAT UP BOY!” she yelled, pointing her bony finger at
Harry, her hand shaking.

Harry grinned and lowered the suitcase to the floor. He cancelled the spell and used a simple
`reparo' charm at the plate. Instantly the plate was whole and just as nice as before.

Petunia gaped like a goldfish, unable to utter a word, and her eyes was so huge that Harry
feared they might pop out of her head and land on him.

He suppressed a chuckle; it was (almost) too bad he couldn't get the chance to stay here,
when he actually could do magic and get the revenge he always wanted.

-

Harry didn't have to leave right away, so he had plenty of time to show the Dursleys just
*how* grateful he was that they had taken “care” of him. For the next forty five minutes Harry
used magic in every way possible, from getting the mail to chasing Dudley around the living room
with books. When Dudley tried to run out the front door, Harry used the locking charm Hermione had
taught him and lit his wand with a soft `*lumos*'. That was enough for Dudley to faint
with fright.

Harry had already frozen his Uncle and Aunt, so they couldn't help their son anymore than
Dudley could help himself.

He even levitated himself, but that didn't work too well. His feet would go this way and
that, as if he was standing on slippery ice that didn't supported him.

Even so, Harry could perfectly understand why Fred and George had enjoyed using magic so much.
He had waited so long for this, and it felt *amazing*! Why had he ever thought of using the
Unforgivables?

-

-

After an hour, the fun had began to go away. The Dursleys would either faint or hide from him,
so they weren't any fun. It was sad to admit it, but he wanted a challenge now. Shaking his
head of himself, Harry reduced the size on his suitcase and put it in his pocket. Checking once
more that he had gotten everything (he had collected a rather lot from his years at Hogwarts) he
went outside, yet again marveling at the sight of the very cool bike. There was only one problem
though:

Dumbledore had forgot to give him a key.

Great. Now *how* was he supposed to drive that thing?

Sighing, Harry touched the bike gently. It shivered under his touch, as if inviting him to come
closer.

Suddenly feeling watched, Harry turned around and saw no other than Dudley spying on him through
the window. He had a jealous look on his face, just like Harry had wore so many times himself when
Dudley got something new and not him. Not able to stop himself, Harry flashed a grin teasingly at
Dudley and the fat pig quickly ducked out of sight.

Harry laughed softly and turned his attention forward again. He still didn't know what he
was supposed to do. Harry almost turned to go back in, but somehow the thought of just studying the
motorcycle was too appealing.

He touched the bike again several times; down the front, over the seat, the wheels... every time
the bike shivered, and every time Harry enjoyed it. Wondering how it would feel if he *sat* on
it, he swung one leg over the bike and sat down on the seat. The bike shivered again, violently,
and then, without warning, the motor started to run! Nothing could have prepared Harry for this,
and he almost jumped right off again. *Where had Sirius got this from? It couldn't be a
muggle bike! Unless it was something similar to Arthur's flying car?* Harry only knew one
thing; there was no way this could be a normal motorcycle.

Harry was just looking for some kind of gas-pedal or something -anything that could make the
motorcycle go forward, when the bike slowly started to roll down the street. Completely on its own.
It was a wonderful and powerful feeling, even though they went pretty slow. However, the speed
didn't worry Harry much. What was beginning to worry him was the fact that he didn't know
how to stop it! Harry had no idea how he had got the bike to roll forward in the first place!

The bike stopped.

Odd.

Harry was beginning to feel stupid now. *Could the bike read his mind or something? Or was he
just being stupid?* Probably the latter, Harry mused to himself, but there was no harm in
trying. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

“Er, can you go forward?” Harry asked the bike, wearily.

The bike went forward again, a bit faster this time.

“Can you stop again too?” asked Harry, confused but excited, and the bike stopped. Now Harry was
certain. The bike did exactly what Harry wanted it too. Cool!

Harry asked the bike to go forward again, even faster this time, and the bike again did what
Harry wanted it to. He enjoyed the feeling the bike gave him; how powerful it felt under him, and
how the bike bid his every command... It made him feel very powerful and free.

-

After riding on the nearly empty road for half an hour, Harry had discovered that the bike
didn't only go faster or slower if Harry wished so, it could also become invisible. Harry was
also invisible when the bike was, and he had every intention of staying so, but after a car nearly
collided in him from behind Harry figured that it was safest to be visible.

Harry also found out that riding in a light sweater wasn't a good idea because the wind was
freezing, and he soon couldn't feel his fingers and arms very well, sense they were stiff with
cold. He stopped behind a gas station and transfigured his sweater to a black jacket. It wasn't
very comfortable, but it was warmer.

Harry shrugged and put on the jacket, and noticed a couple of girls that came out of the shop.
They gave him a wink, and broke down in a fit of giggles. Frowning, Harry found his way back to the
motorcycle and quickly climbed it.

He was getting used to the shivering now and without a second thought he ordered the bike to go
forward.

The girls had stopped giggling at him now and were instead staring at him with open mouths.
Harry closed his eyes in irritation, he should have been more careful. They were bound to find him
suspicious now.

They didn't stop staring, however, and even though Harry got more and more space between
them, he couldn't help but wish he could just fly away, from them and from the world. He
didn't like people staring at him; it didn't matter if they were muggles or not.

Suddenly the bike lifted from the ground.
At first, Harry didn't notice, because that was exactly what he had wished for, but as soon as
he realized it he yelped in surprise and quickly lowered to the ground again. He didn't dare
turn around to see if the girls had noticed, and he pretended that nothing had happened.

Hopefully they had been so far away that they hadn't seen what he did. As soon as he was
certain that he was out of sight for anyone that might be watching, he let himself and the bike
come invisible and lifted from the ground.

What a feeling it was! It was wonderful and couldn't be compared to anything else Harry had
ever flew on. Yes, his Firebolt came close because of the speed, but he had to admit that the bike
was fast as well, and it was very, very comfortable to sit in.

If a muggle wondered what the sound was and looked up, Harry didn't notice. For the first
time that summer Harry allowed himself to have pure fun, and he didn't think of Sirius'
death or the Prophecy for once.

-

-

It took Harry a little over two hours to get to Grimmauld Place, and when he finally got there
he quickly shrunk the motorcycle and put it in his pocket before he rang on the doorbell.

A dark-haired woman with brown eyes that were a bit wrinkled opened the door, and Harry realised
she must be Hermione's mother.

“Hello, I'm Harry,” said Harry politely, and Mrs. Granger greeted him with a friendly
smile.

“Please come in,” she said. “We've been expecting you.”

Harry stepped into the dark hall and breathed in shakily. The house was exactly like he
remembered it; gloomy and dark, although it looked a bit cleaner some places. Careful to avoid
waking the portrait of Sirius' mum, he stepped into the living room.

He almost expected to see Sirius standing beside Lupin and the Grangers, and just the memory of
how much his Godfather had hated that place was enough for Harry to feel a rush of anger and a lump
in his throat.

Harry suppressed a whimper as Lupin caught his eye. The memories was still too fresh, too much
to handle.

He wished he had never come back.

“Hello, Harry,” Lupin said. “How are you doing?”

“Hi,” replied Harry, his voice sounded strangled. “I'm all right, I guess.”

Harry shrugged and slowly started to back away. He didn't want to be there anymore; he
wanted to go someplace quiet where he could be alone.

Harry had just reached the doorstep when Lupin called after him:

“Harry?”

Harry stopped.

“This isn't going to work,” said Lupin, and Harry noticed that he, too, looked worn.

Harry didn't know what to say, so he did nothing.

“You must know that I don't blame you, Harry,” said Lupin quietly.

“Yeah, well,” whispered Harry, and, as his anger again flared inside him, he found more strength
to his voice: “You should. It was my fault, and my fault alone.”

“No,” said Lupin, a bit more forcefully. “It wasn't. Sirius made the choice to come along,
and he *knew* what consequences it could bring. He came for the same reasons you did.”

Harry was saved from answering anything else when Hermione came over. She looked even more
beautiful than he remembered; with her hair behind her ear, and a neck that looked delicate and
proud...

“Can I talk to you a sec, Harry?”

“Sure,” Harry answered as his stomach turned over in a new wave with dread. *What a coward he
was.*

-

As Harry followed Hermione upstairs to her room, he noticed that Hermione seemed to be nervous,
just as he was. Harry really wished he knew what she was thinking. However, if he had
*bothered* to learn Occlumency, then maybe… no, he couldn't do that to her anyway.

Upstairs, they went into a room, and Hermione closed the door behind him. Harry found himself
staring at the floor again with nothing to say.

“So…” said Hermione.

“So… How are you doing?” said Harry, not knowing what else he could start a conversation
with.

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” said Hermione, biting her lip. “But Harry? We need to talk...”

“About what?” asked Harry wearily, but deep down he knew exactly what she meant. Hermione
frowned.

“About last night,” she answered as she looked up at him with eyes that begged him to say
something... anything.

“Oh, right,” Harry said. “The kiss?”

Hermione smiled and nodded, relieved for a moment, before she got her serious expression back.
“Yeah. Well, I was just wondering... did it, you know... did it mean anything to you?”

This caught Harry off guard, and he had no right answer. If he said no, he would hurt her. If he
said yes, someone else might hurt her. Did it really mean that much to him? Of course, he had
thought *a lot* about it, but he didn't have that kind of feelings for her, did he? Did it
mean anything to *her*? Was she upset about it?

“Did that mean anything to you?” repeated Hermione, close to tears now, but Harry couldn't
see if that was because she was sad or if it was because she was angry.

“Er, of course it did,” Harry said, in a tone that he hoped she would take in the way that
suited her best.

“Oh,” said Hermione, and looked thoughtful. “I guess I should turn down Ron then... I mean, I
would have done it anyway, but-”

“What?” Harry said; he had lost her again.

“I'll turn down Ron.”

“Oh, but you shouldn't do that for me-“ Harry began, but he was interrupted as Hermione
wrapped her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. He hugged her gently back, feeling a bit
uncomfortable.

Her hair smelled nice though, and Harry felt a shiver run down his spine.

After a while he let go a little, and he felt Hermione's hair tickling him in his neck. Her
eyes locked with his, and he was filled with an enormous strong urge to have her closer in his
arms. It was a weird sense of familiarity, even though he was sure he had never felt that way
before. If felt that as long as he had her there, he could protect her from anything,. Like there
was no place else she was supposed to be. Like... she was all he needed.

Oh, that was scary! And he was nowhere near prepared for it.

Some part of him wanted to run and hide under his bed or something, but the urge to have her
close won easily, and Harry lifted his arm to touch Hermione's cheek, then down her neck. He
enjoyed how soft her skin felt, just like he had imagined it.

She moved forward slightly, so he could easily bend down a little to kiss her... He could feel
her breath against his own mouth... He didn't realize that kissing her was exactly what he was
about to, before he was so close that the slightest movement would make their lips to connect.

Oh dear, he had gone to far again! Quickly, he snapped his head up and took a step back.
Hermione, who had closed her eyes, opened them, obviously confused.

“What's wrong?” she asked, taking a step forward to reach him. Harry had to take another
step back to avoid her.

“We can't... do this,” said Harry, trying hard to look into her eyes. She stared back at
him, biting her lip.

“There's a prophecy,” Harry began, knowing there was no other way to explain why he did what
he did.

“Yeah,” Hermione said. “It broke.”

“True... but that Prophecy was only a record. The real one was given to Professor Dumbledore,
and... he told me what it said, when I got back to Hogwarts after fighting Bellatrix. It pretty
much said that I have to die in an attempt to kill Voldemort.”

Hermione jumped and paled sheet-white in a matter of seconds. “*WHAT?*”

Harry nodded, refusing to feel sorry for himself.

“Harry, are you *sure?*”

“Yeah, it says that `*one has to die at the hand of the other, because neither can live while
the other survives.'*”

Hermione's eyes widened, and Harry could tell she did some quick thinking. “But... it
doesn't say that you *have* to die, it says that either you *or* Voldemort have to
die.”

“Yeah, like I have a chance against him!” Harry said sarcastically.

“But you must have, or the prophecy wouldn't have said it like that.”

“It also said that Voldemort couldn't kill me because I have powers he has not. But-“ Harry
said when Hermione opened her mouth to add something. “-That has to be that my mother died to
protect me... But I won't have that anymore, because Voldemort has my blood and can touch me
now even. You really should be with Ron, Hermione. He's a very nice guy and it's obvious
that he likes you very much.” Harry swallowed with difficulty. It was unbelievably hard to say.

Hermione pursed her lips slightly, but said nothing.

“Yeah. That's why he always does so many stupid things around you.”

Hermione said nothing to this either and walked over to the window, her back against Harry.
Harry sat down on the only bed in the room, staring at his hands. They didn't do anything for
several minutes until Hermione, without turning around, asked: “But why can't *we* be more
than friends? The prophecy doesn't say that you can't try to have a normal life and live a
little-“

“Yes, it does,” interrupted Harry. “It says that `*neither can live while the other
survives*.'”

“But then that prophecy would be like a curse!”

“It's exactly what it is,” Harry answered quietly; his voice barely over a whisper as it
went up for him too.

-->



6. When Madness and Magix Mix
-----------------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Special thanks to Anna Rose and Kez.

*- .*

Chapter 6: **WHEN MADNESS AND MAGIC MIX**

Harry went to bed early that evening. The day's happenings and the ride to Grimmuald Place
had really gotten more to him than he had expected. He fell asleep as soon as he had put his head
on the pillow, without even thinking about emptying his mind first or removing his wand from his
hand.

-

*He was walking up an empty street. There was no light from streetlamps, and the half-moon was
the only thing that gave light to the almost pitch-dark street, casting long, soft shadows.*

*Harry turned around a corner and saw what he was looking for. It wasn't exactly hard to
find.... The house was big and slightly majestic, yet Harry knew the house would be welcoming if
someone hadn't put a Venetian blind behind the windows, blocking all sight of inside. It was a
pity really -their safety precautions were all for nothing.*

*The lady beside him, dressed in black hood that would match her hair if anybody cared, opened
the gate and they went into the garden. The grass was long and the bushes had not been trimmed for
a year, yet Harry knew that this was once a very nice garden. It even had a silly fountain.*

*Suppressing a tired snort, he turned around and looked the lady -Bellatrix, his faithful
servant -in the eye. She took that as a sign and knocked on the door with a bony hand that almost
looked silver in the moonlight.*

*A woman with short, black hair and PJs on opened the door, and for a second she looked
comically shocked; with her eyes and mouth open in shock. Suddenly - as if a bolt of lightening
just had struck her, she caught up with herself - she let out a high-pitched scream. Bellatrix
fired a killing-curse at her, hitting the woman in the stomach, and the woman's scream died
before she hit the floor by the door. Bellatrix laughed silently, and together they walked inside
the house and into the empty living room. Or at least it had looked empty, they didn't see a
balding man on the stairs, staring terrified at them, until he turned and ran back upstairs where
he must have come from.*

*“HIDE!” He shouted. “IT'S VOLDEMORT!”*

*“How come they never mention me?” complained Bellatrix indignantly, but Harry didn't
bother answering her.*

*They followed the man upstairs and found him pointing a wand at them.*

*“Don't come any nearer! The Aurors are on their way! You can't kill us!” said the man
bravely, but the violent shaking of his wand betrayed him.*

“Crucio!” *cried Harry, pointing the wand at the man. The man collapsed on the floor, twisting
and crying and yelling in pain. Harry laughed, and said:*

*“Bella, get the other ones.”*

*Bellatrix nodded and did what she was told. She soon came back with a young woman with long,
black hair. Strangely though, deep down she looked oddly familiar to Harry. But how could that be?
Bellatrix threw the girl against the wall. The girl cowered , shaking in the corner. She didn't
have a wand, but that wouldn't have mattered anyway. Harry ended the curse on the man, which
had lasted for several minutes. However, even though Harry had ended the curse, the man didn't
recover right away. He twisted and shivered on the floor, sobbing, crying, for what seemed to be
like forever.*

*He didn't get a grip on himself before his daughter let out a stuffed cry, and he
realized the seriousness in the situation. In a matter of seconds the man was up on his feet and in
front of his child. Bellatrix broke them apart, and threw the man where he had just been. With a
cry, the man tried to do the same again -but Harry stopped him with his wand.*

*“**Stay,”* *he bellowed, and the man froze in his steps. Harry's lips curved
slightly in pleasure, feeling deep satisfaction. “Curse the girl.”*

*The man with the name of Patil didn't do anything. The only thing he seemed to be able to
do was to stare dumbly at Harry.*

*“Torture the girl!” said Harry again, more forcefully, and he raised his wand higher. “And
I* might *spare her life.”*

*The man looked from his daughter and to Harry, his eyes watered with tears.* *Pathetic
fool!*

*“I… don't… know how to - to - to do it!” stuttered Mr Patil with difficulty.*

*Feeling impatient, Harry decided to move the process a bit quicker. “**Imperio**!”
he shouted at the man, and Mr. Patil suddenly got a dazed look over his eyes and relaxed his
shoulders. Almost boringly, he pointed his wand at his daughter. The teenage Patil looked terrified
up at him.*

*“I d - don't b - blame you daddy…” she sobbed as she covered her face with her hands. “I
love you!”*

*Mr. Patil hesitated for a moment, and Harry saw something flicker behind his eyes. He was
clearly trying to fight off the curse. Good for him....*

*However, Mr. Patil's attempts were in vain: “*Crucio!” *he yelled, and red light
shot from* *his wand and to the girl. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she screamed in pain.
Her feet curled up under her as she grew desperate to get away.*

*Harry watched with pleasure for about a minute, and then he ended the Imperius curse. The
girl's body went limp. She quickly began to shiver, tears still running down her cheeks, making
her look like a drowned puppy.*

*Mr. Patil blinked, and when he saw what he had done his hand flew to his throat as he made
some choking sounds that only a man in deep shock, guilt and sorrow could make.*

*Bellatrix nearly jumped up and down in glee.*

“Now,” *said Harry evilly. “Curse her again. You know how to do it now!”*

*“No! No, no! Please - please don't!” The young Patil cried between her sobs. “WHAT DO YOU
WANT? I'LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER-!”*

*“Do you know the Prophecy?”*

*The girl stopped sobbing. “What? What prophecy?”*

*“You don't have it?” Harry hadn't really expected her too, but it would be a terribly
pity if she did knew and Harry killed her first.*

*“No, no, I'm sorry! I don't know what you're talking about! Please-!” The girl
was frantic now.*

*“Then I don't need a thing from you,” sneered Harry and pointed his wand at her.*

*“NO! You can't!” said the girl desperately, she was running down from options and she
knew it. “Harry Potter will bring you down! He will get revenge! If you do this, you will only
motivate him even more to come after you! I swear - he has a plan, a brilliant one he says,
that-”*

*Harry laughed. “Potter is no threat to me! Mr. Patil, you really should have joined me when
you had the chance, then this would never have happened.”*

*The man looked over to his daughter in the corner and to his dead wife in the
entrance.*

*“Please, I've changed my mind! I will join you; I'll do whatever it takes! Just -
please don't hurt my daughter!”*

*“It's too late for you to join me now, Patil,” said Harry and curled his lip. “I have
only use for* *faithful* *servants. And soon, you would be too late for your daughter
too, if you don't torture her right* NOW!”

*“Please, be merciful-“*

*“One,” Harry counted.*

*“Please!” cried Mr. Patil again.*

*“Two…!” Harry continued, and raised his wand yet again, so it pointed at the youngest Patil.
The man did the same, weakly, and muttered* “crucio.” *His eyes were closed.*

*The girl was hit with red light, but it was weak, way too weak. It almost looked*
*pink!* *She only raised her shoulder and cried out, but she stopped after a second when
nothing else happened.*

“AGAIN!” *Harry barked.* “And this is your last chance!”

*The girl said nothing as she saw her dad raise his wand arm again.*

“Crucio!” *the father said, more loudly this time. The girl's black, long hair fell in
front of* *her face as she screamed, however, that was the only thing she did: She didn't
cower in pain and nor did her legs curl up. Mr. Patil ended the spell with a relieved look on his
face.*

*“That was fake, Master!” shouted Bellatrix suddenly and furiously as the two Patils'
froze.*

*“Right you are, Bella,” said Harry, suppressing a sigh. “That was not good enough. Did you
really think you could fool me?”*

*“*What? *But I* *did-! I can show you-!**” exclaimed Mr. Patil desperately,
his hand waiving* *desperately in the air.*

*“No…” sneered Harry. “You had your chance, Patil. I was nice today, you even got a second
chance, but you blew it. Now... take the consequences.“*

*Harry, still pointing the wand at the young woman, said:* “Avada Kedavra!”

*The girl didn't even have the time to scream one last time before the spell hit her. The
wall still supported her, but her arms were limp and her chin had fallen down to her chest. Her
eyes looked empty and didn't wear the surprised and scared expression she just had.*

Harry didn't see what happened next. Suddenly he found himself wake up of a loud
*bang*, and something that shattered to the floor.

-

Harry awoke with a start. His heart had escaped up in his throat and it felt like he had run a
mile, but he had the strangest feeling, something that he couldn't explain and that had settled
deep down in his gut.

Something was horribly wrong!

Harry turned over in his bed, trying to figure out what had happened. He knew it had to be
something to do with Voldemort though because his scar burned badly and the wand was still warm in
his hand...

*Wand?*

*Weird,* he thought, he couldn't remember grabbing it. Actually, he couldn't
remember leaving it either...

It wasn't before now Harry became aware that his room smelled burnt. And that a large, black
hole was staring at him from the wall, where there used to be a picture of two birds. Some smoke
came from the black hole and up towards the ceiling. Harry stared in disbelief. *What had he
done?*

He looked down on the wand again and felt a tickling sensation from his fingers and up to his
shoulder. He must have done something *bad!* He had never felt like this before.

Then he remembered the dream. He remembered the black street, he remembered the father and he
remembered the daughter. The Patils. Parvati… How many times had he seen her in class, in the
Quidditch stands, the halls, or in the Gryffindor common room? More times than he could remember.
And now she was gone, and probably her -

Suddenly his scar burst in pain again, however, this time Harry could feel it open, and he got
blood in his eyes. *Yup, her father must be dead too...*

Harry quickly got up from the bed, his eyes shut. He couldn't see ... there was too much
blood. *What was Voldemort doing?* Harry tried to concentrate; he tried to image Voldemort and
Bella-trix.

*“…Coming! Master… Aurors…”* Harry heard someone yell faintly as if coming from a long
distance. Harry wasn't sure if he had imagined it or not, but he had definitely heard
something.

Suddenly, the bedroom door burst open and someone came in, but Harry still couldn't see
anything except from the red blood.

“Harry, what happened?” he heard the voice ask.

The scar burst in pain *AGAIN.* *How was that possible? Would it ever stop?*

“NO!” cried Harry, his voice rasp. He could tell that Voldemort was angry, he must have felt
Harry trying to enter his mind… *Merlin-!* “NO! STOP IT! ARGH!”

Harry collapsed to his knees and screamed in agony.

*Let it stop, let it stop...*

He felt someone grab his shoulder; pulling him up from his knees, but he didn't care. All he
wanted to do was to get away, away from the pain, away from his life, away from everything.

“STOP IT!” he cried again, desperately trying to struggle away from the grip, which suddenly let
go of him.

*Kitchen,* he thought. *He was so thirsty…* *If he only could get to the kitchen,
then everything would be all right…* He could clearly see himself standing in the kitchen by the
table - he really wanted to get there… *Please let me get there…*

Suddenly everything went black and he felt very light, like he was drifting off to sleep, his
head was spinning. In the next second Harry opened his eyes and saw that he actually *was*
standing in the kitchen.

*What the-? How-?* Harry wondered dumbstruck, and then it hit him. Had he just
*Apparated?* But how could he do that? He hadn't even read about it, nor had he ever-

His thoughts where interrupted with a loud sound which sounded very much like an alarm. Harry
quickly spun around, expecting to see death eaters or something worse, but he couldn't see a
thing. There was still blood in his eyes, and without his glasses, it was a lost case. Suddenly he
heard Arthur's voice, magically high, through the house.

“HARRY POTTER'S GONE! I WAS STANDING RIGHT BEHIND HIM, AND NOW HE'S GONE! REMUS! COME
QUICK! WE NEED TO FIND HIM!”

Harry moaned. Great. Now they were all going to worry, even though he hadn't done anything
wrong…

“I'M HERE...!” yelled Harry harshly. He didn't bother to look for someone, but drank
some water from the spring instead. The cold water felt amazing.

“HE'S HERE, ARTHUR!” Harry heard Lupin say, and Harry turned around, making Lupin gasp, as
well as Mr Weasley and the Grangers' who came quickly through the kitchen-door.

*“What?”* snapped Harry, but then remembered the scar, which, by the way, had stopped
hurting and all the blood that surely must have been flowing down his face as well. Muttering an
`oh' of realization he put his head under the spring once again, and washed his face with his
hands. It stung a bit.

“Harry!” Harry heard Hermione exclaim behind him. “What happened? ...Harry?”

Harry didn't turn around. He simply replied: “Voldemort. The Patils - dead, - gotta …
go.”

Again Harry heard them gasp, but he had other things on his mind. *What had he done to the
wall?* He didn't cast the same spell he - no wait, *Voldemort* - had cast in the dream,
had he? Only the thought of it made Harry sick and the blood stench was the drop that made it too
much for him. He vomited in the sink.

Embarrassed, Harry turned around and looked at the worried faces in front of him, not that he
saw them very well, however.

He was their only hope, and he couldn't save them. He would fail… He had failed Parvati… The
one with the beautiful black hair, the one who always giggled in Trelawney's classes… Cedric,
Kingsley, *Sirius…*

Harry's legs were shaking under him, and it was impossible to stand up. He slowly sat down
on the floor, trying very hard to stay awake. He heard somebody talking, but he couldn't figure
out what they were saying....

Something in his mind took form, slowly at first, but then faster, until Harry was certain that
it was a snake. It looked familiar, he had seen it before - he was sure of it - but where? The
snake looked at him, and hissed:

*“What are you doing there, young man? You ssshould be awake, you know?”*

*“I am!” Harry protested.*

*“No, you're not!” The snake snickered, and Harry groaned in frustration.*

*“Who are you anyway?” asked Harry.*

*“Me? Oh, I'm Nadini. Don't you recognissse me?”
”No, I-“ Harry began, but then he remembered. “Hey, you're Voldemort's snake!”*

*The snake laughed. “I don't belong to anyone. I am my own massster.”*

*“I don't believe you,” said Harry off-handily, but someone was shaking him; forcing him
back to the reality.*

“Huh?” said Harry and snapped his eyes open, only to see the faint outline of Lupin leaning over
him.

“She says she's her own master,” said Harry and giggled slightly to Lupin, who, of course,
had no idea what Harry was talking about. But Harry thought it made perfect sense.

What didn't make sense, however, was that everyone looked at him like he was some sort of
alien.

“Harry?” said Lupin worriedly. “Are you drunk?”

“Bog off…” groaned Harry and put his head between his hands. He was so tired… He just wanted to
go back to sleep… He had Apparated once; surely he must be able to do it again? Harry tried to
imagine his bedroom, tried to image himself standing there… *really standing there…he WANTED to
get there…he really, really wanted to -* Harry again felt his body drift away and his head
spinning and he knew it had worked. In the next second he knew he was back in his room. He
instantly collapsed in his bed, embracing it.

-

-

He woke up when he felt something wet on his forehead. He opened his eyes and saw something or
someone standing over him. Harry jumped off the bed in fright, grabbed his wand, which luckily was
on the nightstand beside him, and he pointed it at the intruder while he took on his glasses.

It was Hermione. His beautiful Hermione, and he had almost hurt her!

Harry lowered his wand. He would never use it again. Never. He didn't want to be a wizard
anymore. He wanted to be someone else, anyone else, he wanted to-

All of the sudden, he saw himself using the Killing curse. Not on somebody else, but on himself.
The thought was scary, terrifying, and Harry quickly pushed it in the back of his mind. He took a
deep, shaking breath and took the wand away. If he would sink so low as to kill himself then he
would not do it in front of Hermione. No way!

However, he was sick and tired of being weak. *Enough* of it! No more!

Hesitantly, he took a step towards Hermione, who looked very uncomfortable, and politely said:
“Thank you, Hermione. Sorry if I frightened you.”

“That's okay,” said Hermione slowly, keeping a close eye on him. “But Harry? What
happened?”

“I don't know,” said Harry, what pretty much was the truth anyway. “How long have I been
sleeping?”

“Two days,” said Hermione with a sad shrug, and Harry gaped at her.

“*What?”*

“You did.”

“Oh. Have you heard anything from the Weasleys'?” asked Harry, quickly changing the
subject.

“Yeah, they're coming over tomorrow.” Hermione looked a bit worried.

Harry was not, however. He felt a bit relieved actually. Now he wouldn't have to worry so
much about Hermione anymore. It felt weird when the two of them were alone.

“I'm going outside to take a ride,” Harry said shortly to Hermione and went out the
door.

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione, catching up with him.

“I'm going outside to take a ride.”

“What about food?” asked Hermione, more urgently.

“I'm not hungry.”

“You *got* to eat something, Harry!”

“I don't think I do,” said Harry, and he turned around, realizing he must have sounded very
rude.

“I'm just not hungry Hermione, I'm *sorry.”*

“What's wrong with you?” snapped Hermione, her eyes flickering angrily. “First you're
screaming, waking Arthur up, then you disappear and reappear at the kitchen! You got blood all over
your face, saying the Patils' are dead, which, by the way, is true, and then you start speaking
Parseltounge and muttering nonsense words before you disappear *again!* And you don't even
have a Apparating license. You're too young, you aren't even allowed to do magic-“

Harry, who had blocked most of what she was saying out of his head, snapped back to the reality
when he heard the last sentence.

“I am,” Harry said. “Dumbledore told me ye- er- some days ago.”

“What?” said Hermione, her mouth hanging open. Harry nodded. “But, what about-?“

“Just forget it, `Mione. I don't even know for myself.”

Hermione didn't say anything more, and they joined Lupin and Hermione's parents for
lunch, even though Harry didn't feel any hungry. He wanted to do something more valuable with
his time.

As soon as he was finished, he hurried upstairs to the Black's library. He could go flying
later.

-

It was a huge library, with almost - Harry noticed - nothing except Dark Art books. Harry could
bet that ninety percent of the amount of books in the library would fit into the Restricted Section
at Hogwarts.

Harry scanned some of the titles: *The Art Of The Dark Arts, You-Know-Who's Tactics, Why
You Should Use Dark Arts, Bloody Revenge, A Death Eaters Journal*... However, what really caught
his eye was a book called: *All About The Unforgivables.* Hesitating, he wondered if he should
look at it. It could come handy, and he needed more information about them, he really did. How else
was he supposed to defeat Voldemort?

Harry took the book down from the dusty shelf. The bind outside the book was grey and
uncomfortable to touch. When Harry blew some air on it the dust whirled up and tickled his
nose.

Resisting a sneeze, Harry sat down on an armchair and looked through the register:

Ch1: *What t**he Unforgivables Are*

Ch2*: Why the Unforgivables a**re So Unforgivable*

Ch3*: Who Invented t**he Unforgivable**s*

Ch4*: How t**he Unforgivables Works*

Ch 5*: The After Effects*

Ch6: *The First Time a**n Unforgivable Was Used,*

Ch7: *How* *to Cast a**n Unforgivable*

Ch8: *The Usual Mistakes*

Ch9*: How You Know You Have Succeeded*

Ch10: *How To Keep* *i**t Hidden*

Ch11: *After Words*

Harry paused. Should he really do this? Sure, he needed the information, and his life probably
depended on it, but ... it was … Harry's brain suddenly couldn't find a reason *not*
to learn. After all, to *learn* it wasn't the same as *using* it - to cause pain at
least - was it?

Harry sat down more comfortably in the chair and started to read.

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7. With What You Learn
----------------------

Hi! This chapter is longer than usual, I hope you’ll like it! Tell me what you think!

Don’t forget that _Amber_Eyes_ has been a great help to me, and... Rowling owns it all!

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CH7: **WITH WHAT YOU LEARN**

Harry couldn’t deny that the book was very interesting. The next three hours he just sat there,
reading it through. He had never looked in a Dark Art book like this one before, and Harry was
amazed how much different views it had from what Harry had grown up to learn. However, Harry had to
agree with it at some points: You are better prepared when you knew things, when you knew how to
attack an enemy, and how the enemy could attack you. Could it be a better way to get rid of an
enemy than to use an unforgivable like the Imperius Curse? If you used that one, you could simply
tell the enemy to go away, or to attack one of it’s own. That would be so much easier, faster, and
much more useful! The only hatch was that it was illegal. If you were discovered, then it would be
enough to get a life-sentence in Azkaban.

But, as a little voice in his head said; he was Harry Potter. They couldn’t lock him in. He was
their only hope. He’d find a way out...

And he had used the Cruciatus Curse before, after all. And had he been caught? No.

Harry shrugged. He didn’t like to be reminded of that, even though he deep down wished it had
worked properly. Bellatrix deserved to feel pain; after all she had done against him, Sirius, and
Neville’s parents... She had killed Sirius… He should kill her.

Harry had looked through half of the chapters, but he hadn’t yet started on ‘How You Know You
Have Succeeded’.

He sighed heavily and started to read:

You know you have succeeded in casting an Unforgivable when you feel the power of the Curse in
your wand. You would get a tickling feeling in your arm, up to your shoulder, and, sometimes - when
you cast The Fatal One - even through your whole body. The effects from this could be compared to
Muggle drugs, which can also make you addict to the feeling of killing...

Harry’s heart dropped to the pitch of his stomach, it was very similar to what he had felt in
his room when he had… witnessed… Parvati’s death. He slowly continued reading.

You will also see the characteristic green, blinding light, and a rattling sound, until the
Curse reaches the victims body.

When you cast The Avada Kedavra, the most obvious reason you know it have worked is when the
victim dies immediately. The Avada Kedavra would make the heart stop as soon as it reaches the
target, and it is very usual to find the victim with his or hers eyes or/and mouth open,
surprised.

When you cast the Cruciatus Curse, you would feel the victims trembling through your wand, like
it is linked. You would feel the ache, but without feeling any pain yourself. The victim’s pain
would be your pleasure. The Cruciatus Curse has a red light, also very blinding. You would feel the
power of your spell if you have succeeded, however, it is not as physically powerful as The Avada
Kedavra Curse, because the Avada Kedavra need a lot more desire to hurt and kill to make the
intended action to take place.

The Imperio is, as said, the most effortless one to cast, and the only thing you would feel that
would let you know that you have succeeded, is some of the consciousness to the victim. You can
feel if the victim is trying to fight the curse off or if the victim does not.

Harry stopped reading, he felt very tired and his eyes were stinging. So it was the Avada
Kedavra Curse he had cast… It was like the air had been taken out of his lungs. How could he have
been so stupid? How could he felled asleep with his wand, when he knew he’d probably get another
vision from Voldemort? What if somebody had stood in the way, and he had hit him or her instead?
What if it had been Hermione? Her parents? Or Lupin? Just the thought of it scared the hell out of
him. Harry knew there was no way he could ever forgive himself if that happened. He couldn’t live
with that.

With a sigh he realized it was about time he learned Occlumency properly.

Harry closed the book soberly. Damn it!

Harry wondered what Dumbledore would say if he knew. Harry’s stomach turn over with dread;
Dumbledore couldn’t know, nor anybody else. How disappointed they would be…

Harry got up from the chair, thinking that they probably would be disappointed anyway. He got up
to his room without meeting anybody, and lay the book down on the table, close to his bed. He
quickly threw a Disillusionment-charm on it so it couldn’t be spotted so easy, unless you knew it
was there. He stretched and went down to get something to eat, his thoughts swirling with what he
had just learned.

-

“Harry, is there something wrong?” asked Lupin after Harry had finished eating.

“No,” said Harry quickly. Lupin raised an eyebrow, and Harry added: “Just thinking that I should
probably learn Occlumency, for real this time.” Lupin nodded and was about to say something, but
Hermione interrupted him.

“Really? That’s wonderful!” she beamed up at him. Harry frowned slightly at her comment, but
couldn’t help keeping his stomach away from doing a flip-flop.

“I don’t have anybody to teach me, though. Snape won’t do it, not since… I…” Harry’s word died
in his mouth.

“Not since what?” asked Hermione.

“Never mind,” said Harry quickly, “the important thing is that I got to learn it in some way or
another.”

“I can help you!” said Hermione bluntly, and Harry blinked. “I’ve read a lot about it last year,
I bet I can do it.” Hermione smirked at this.

“Alright…” said Harry slowly, wondering if he should feel excited or scared. “But that would
have to wait, you can’t do it until you get to Hogwarts.”

Hermione said nothing. Harry looked over at Lupin, but Lupin seemed to be lost in thoughts
again. Harry sighed; he didn’t know what to do... Decides, he still felt somewhat responsible for
Parvati’s death. He couldn’t get that out of his mind.

What were Voldemort doing now? Was he planning the next attack?

Suddenly an idea popped into Harry’s head. He knew he should try to find out what Voldemort was
doing, it could spare life, after all. But it was dangerous, very dangerous... Could he do it?
Harry challenged himself. Could he afford not to?

“Look…” He said slowly. “About what happened… “

Both Lupin and Hermione looked up at this.

“When that thing happened…” continued Harry, “I was trying to break into Voldemort’s mind, like
he has tried to do with me so many times, so I could find out what’s going on.”

Hermione gasped, and looked terrified.

“I only heard something Bella said about Aurors, but-“

“Bella?” interrupted Lupin, looking even more alarmed than before.

“Yeah, I mean no, Bellatrix!” Harry frantically tried to explain. Somehow he had gotten up from
the chair.

“Since when has she been Bella?” asked Lupin again, frowning hard.

“Since - NEVER!” yelled Harry, the temper rising in him. “Do you want to hear what I have to say
or not?”

Lupin nodded, letting Harry continue. “Yeah… like I was trying to say, that was the only thing I
heard Bella-trix!- say, was that the Aurors were coming or something, at least that’s what it
looked like to me. And I was thinking, that… I might should try to do it again, to see what he’s up
to-“

“NO!” cried Hermione, gabbing his arm, like that was going to stop him. “You can’t mess with
Voldemort like that! No one knows what he could do!”

Harry only frowned.

“He has tried to kill me since I was one year old, ‘Mione. I don’t think it would do much more
difference; expect that he would be angry...”

“But look what happened the last time-“

“It could save LIFE Hermione!” shouted Harry angrily. They weren’t helping! “Look, I’m going to
do it anyway, no matter if you don’t want to help me or not.”

“She has a point you know,” said Lupin quietly, “but of course we’ll help you,” Lupin smiled.
Not a wide, warm smile, but a smile all the same. Hermione looked at him, tears in her eyes, but
after a while she nodded hesitantly.

“Okay…” Harry began. “I’m just going to sit here I think, and… don’t interrupt unless… something
happens…”

Harry sat down on the chair again, and tried to calm himself and relax. After he saw Lupin and
Hermione nodding one last time, he closed his eyes, focusing on Voldemort, and Voldemort only. He
tried to think of what he must be doing right now. Willing himself to know…

At first nothing happened, but then he felt his thoughts wander, reminding him almost, faintly,
of apparating. It was a very weird feeling, and not exactly pleasurable. After a while Harry
realized he could hear voices:

“I’ll do it, Master…what? No… of course…” Harry’s stomach jumped in surprise and he lost it. He
gritted his teeth, he wanted to hear it clear, he had to, or there wouldn’t be a point… Soon, the
voices returned, only this time he could see something that reminded him of a hand. It was hard to
tell though, it was so dark.

“Pettigrew, go back… doing… get inform-…and…” he heard, but it felt like he had spoken them
himself.

“Always, master, always…”

Harry didn’t have much control anymore, but his mind seemed to seek the contact. Another part of
him, however, warned him and told him to retreat before it was too late. Bad idea, bad idea... but
the voice became fainter and fainter and Harry couldn’t hear it much anymore... It was like he was
trying to climb over a high fence, a fence that in reality seemed impossible to get over. Harry
gave up resisting, and let his mind reach the contact it sought.

It was like turning on a television: He saw Pettigrew, bowing in front of him, his silver hand
out of his dark sleeve. They were standing in some kind of forest, with short grass and trees
everywhere. Him, or Voldemort, was about to say something, but something stopped him... Harry felt
red anger explode in his chest, and it took only a moment before-

His scar exploded in pain, and Harry cried out. Desperately, he tried to break the contact, it
was unbearable! But he couldn’t do it… It was like he was drowning; he had no control, he couldn’t
breathe…

What was worse though, was that Harry felt Voldemort trying to get into his head, pain exploding
in even higher levels, it was like something was blew up inside him as well… Did that much pain
really exist? What was happening? Harry couldn’t move; his mind screamed in agony and in panic.
Voldemort couldn’t get to him, he had to get out! Suddenly, Harry couldn’t even scream. He felt his
body lose contact to the ground. He knew he was apparating, however, this time it wasn’t because he
wanted it to… His body was frozen, it was nothing he could do...

Suddenly he felt something hard hit his head, and everything went black.

-

-

Black ocean… he was drowning… he needed to get air… drowning… air… pain…

-

-

It was dark when he finally woke up. It took a while before he realised he was in his bed, with
Hermione’s head on his chest. His body jerked in shock, and Hermione groaned. Suddenly her eyes
snapped open and looked widely at Harry. Harry noticed that her eyes were red and swollen, like she
had been crying. Without saying anything Hermione threw her arms around Harry and squeezed him
tightly. He wrapped his arms around her in return, grateful that he was with her than with
Voldemort.

Without letting him go Hermione climbed up better in his bed and leaned over Harry, so she was
in top of him, still hugging him tightly. Harry closed his eyes. She was so close…

They hugged each other like that for a very long time until they heard somebody knock on the
door.

They slowly let go off each other, and Hermione sat down beside him, only a moment before
Dumbledore came in.

Harry immediately felt the hair on his neck stand up, but Hermione took his hand and squeezed it
gently. Harry gulped nervously. What did Dumbledore want?

“How are you, Harry?” asked Dumbledore gently, his eyes twinkling slightly.

“Fine, Headmaster,” said Harry, but as he said it he noticed that his head was throbbing. “Just
a little headache,” he added.

“I see,” said Dumbledore and conjured a chair and sat down. “What happened? Lupin told me the
most of it, but I would like to know what happened after you started the connection, from your
point of view.”

“Um,” said Harry, thinking hard. “ I tried to- figure out what Voldemort was planning… And I
heard voices… Wormtail’s, I think…yes, it was him… They said something about getting information…
And then…” Harry frowned. His thoughts were a mess. “And then… I saw- yes, I saw Wormtail, we were
standing in an open forest or something, and… Voldemort, he-,” Harry’s voice died as his throat
tightened. Hermione squeezed his hand a little tighter, and he shot her a nervous look.

“Go on,” said Dumbledore softly, and leaned a bit forward in his chair.

“He- I don’t really know what he did, but there was something- I could feel- I could feel him
trying to enter my mind, like he did a couple of months ago –you know, and then I- dunno- apparated
or something, and crashed… in something, and that’s… that’s all I can remember,” Harry finished
weakly and shrugged. ­

Dumbledore nodded, the twinkling gone from his eyes. Hermione leaned her head against Harry’s
shoulder, holding his hand so hard Harry felt his fingers go numb.

“Well,” said Dumbledore finally, “trying to enter Voldemort’s mind is a very dangerous thing to
do. You can risk letting him have access to yours as well, and make you do things you do not want
to do. If we had not made an apparating-shell around this house, you probably would not be here
right now. I think Voldemort tried to make you get to wherever he was, so he could kill you without
being interrupted. Tell me, Harry, how many have you told what I told you not so long ago?”

Harry thought for a moment. “Only Hermione.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Good, you need somebody other than me to talk about it to.” He paused for a
moment. “I should probably tell you that we can have a lesson tomorrow around noon, if that is
alright with you?”

Harry nodded. Dumbledore gave him a smile, the twinkling back in his eyes. Hermione looked
curiously at him.

“So you can practise magic?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore answered for Harry. “And so do you. That’s the other reason I came over
today.”

Hermione beamed.

“One more thing,” said Dumbledore, looking at Harry again, “do not try to do that again unless I
am with you. We can not risk losing you, Harry. It is important.”

Harry nodded again.

“Goodbye, Harry, Hermione, enjoy the rest of the evening.”

Harry glared. How was he supposed to do that?

-

-

The next morning came fast, and Harry felt a lot better. He hadn’t dreamed anything last night
and felt oddly refreshed, and ready for practise.

He met Dumbledore in a room that was almost empty. Only a couple of shelves and chairs were to
be seen. Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling as usual.

“Are you ready, Harry?”

“Yes,” said Harry, but couldn’t help feeling nervous.

“First of all, what you must remember with magic, is that you can do many things simply by
imagine it. However, not all wizards have the imaginations enough to do that, and it takes a lot of
practise. I will try to teach you how to do it, however, today I would teach you a blinding curse.
The curse makes the opponent blind for some amount of time. The stronger curse you cast the longer
the opponent would be blind. Some might be blind for only a minute, and some can even last for a
day. It depends on how powerful the spell is.”

Harry nodded.

“Now, to cast the curse you will have to make a cross with your wand and say: ‘Axcesterate’. You
have to point your wand at the person’s eyes when you do and say the curse. Do you understand?
“

“Yes,” said Harry, and gripped his wand tightly.

“Try it on the chair over there first,” said Dumbledore, and suddenly the chair had something
that looked like a pair of eyes on the top.

Harry nodded and pointed at the chair. He started to make some cross with his wand, and focused
on saying Axcesterate.

The chair suddenly turned over and Harry was interrupted his thoughts.

“Very good Harry, but say the incantation a little louder next time. The curse would also be
more effective if you say it out load.”

Harry gaped at him. “But I didn’t say anything!” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, you did, Harry.”

“No, I didn’t!” Harry almost yelled. Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled.

“Yes, it’s possible to do spells without saying the incantation. But that’s not something you
will learn before next year. You actually did something similar to what I told you only a moment
ago. You Imagined yourself doing it, and you did. Curious, very curious indeed.”

Harry stared at him.

“Now, try it on me next, Harry,” said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling even more.

“Er… On you, sir?” asked Harry, alarmed.

“Yes,” said Dumbledore firmly. Harry hesitated, but the expression of Dumbledore dared him to do
it. He placed himself in front of Dumbledore, really not wanting to do it, but if he had to, he had
to do it well. He formed a cross with his wand, and yelled “Axcesterate!”

Electric blue light shot from his wand and hit Dumbledore in his face, and Harry looked
horror-struck up at him as Dumbledore took a step backwards, suddenly looking vulnerable.

Harry leapt over to him.

“Headmaster! Are you all right?”

“Oh, yes,” said Dumbledore, beaming, looking a little at Harry’s left side. “Very good indeed.
It was a very powerful curse you cast. I’m sure this would at least last a couple of hours. Finite
blindfold.” he said, and looked over to where Harry stood. “As I’m sure you will notice, is that
this curse has long been discussed if it should count as a Dark Art or not, but it’s still
classified as just a curse. What I want you to prepare till tomorrow is a list about what you want
to learn in our training lessons.”

“Okay,” said Harry, he knew what he really wanted to learn, but he also knew that Dumbledore
would never approve to all of it.

Dumbledore nodded, and left.

Harry stood for a moment, and wondered what he could do. The training hadn’t took so much time
as he expected. He decided to go upstairs and learn more about the Unforgivables, he had become
very fascinated by the book.

-

-

Later that afternoon the Weasley came over. Harry had read the book the entire time and was
almost done, but right now he was on chapter 7: How To Cast An Unforgiveable.

The chapters were very long, and it took amazingly long time to read them. Decides, Harry used
to stop now and then and repeat to himself what he had just read. He had a strong feeling it would
get important to know. Maybe sooner than he knew...

He sighed and went down, where the portrait of Mrs Black had started screaming again. He had to
do something with her soon.

When he got down, Mrs Weasley, who asked him over and over if he was okay, embraced him tightly.
(“I am okay, really-!“) Harry forced a grin to the rest of the Weasleys’, so they would stop asking
him questions.

“Hi, Mate,” said Ron, and Ginny, who stood right behind Ron, grinning up at him. Harry suddenly
felt very self-conscious. Everybody was looking at him!

“Hello, Ron,” said Harry, somewhat dully. He couldn’t get the thought of Ron asking Hermione out
and away from his head. Ron shifted uncomfortably, noticing Harry staring at him. Where did
Hermione go, anyway? Harry wondered; he hadn’t seen her the whole day. Ron seemed to think along
the same lines.

“Where’s Hermione? There something I gotta ask her about,” he mumbled, looking down at the
floor.

“I don’t know,” said Harry sourly, a weird knot twitching in his stomach. “What do you want to
ask her about?”

Ron blushed deeply at the question, totally unaware of the sarcasm in Harry’s voice. Of course
Harry knew what Ron wanted to ask Hermione about!

“Er- only some- some- stuff about the OWLs…” Ron stuttered.

“That’s nice, Ron,” said Harry, and narrowed his eyes at Ginny who suddenly had started to
giggle frantically, clutching her stomach. Ron frowned, his face slowly returning to his normal
colour.

“Do you have something you want to say, Ginny dear?” He asked. Ginny hiccupped.

“No, I think you pretty much said it!” She chocked out, laughing even harder.

Harry shook his head. Girls!

“Do you want to see if she’s upstairs?” Harry asked Ron, who nodded.

They went upstairs, and they found Hermione sitting in the library with a book in her lap. When
she looked up at Ron her eyes widened, and Harry took that as a hint and went out in the hall. He
stopped for a moment; he really wanted to hear what they were talking about, but he decided not to.
It was none of his business.

-

-

Harry used the rest of the afternoon in the company of the rest of the Weasleys, he knew it
would be rude to be alone in his room when they had just arrived. He was in a terrible mood,
however, and it certainly didn’t help that Fred and George constantly tried to feed him with some
of their new ‘tricks,’ (“Honestly, Harry, they aren’t dangerous! Why would you think that?”) or the
fact that Ron and Hermione went down together, looking shyly at each other.

Ron was so caught up in looking at Hermione that he managed to break a glass down from the
table, and Sirius’ mother started screaming again.

“I’ll take care of her,” said Harry, wanting an excuse to leave.

“Oh, thank you dear,” said Molly and gave him a wink. Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to notice
he left.

Harry shuttered the door loudly behind him as he entered the hallway to where the portrait of
Sirius’ mother was. Not that it mattered; it would take a lot of noise overcome the sound of Mrs
Black screams.

“Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds! Freaks! Leave my house! How dare
you-!”

“SHUT UP!” yelled Harry, pointing his wand at her. Sirius’ mum eyes narrowed.

“You!” She said, looking Harry over, “you are some of the scum Sirius brought in! How DARE he
disrespect-“

“SIRIUS IS DEAD!” Harry shouted at her, but suddenly it was like the floor he was standing on
disappeared under his feet. He had never said those words after the night in the Ministry. He had
known, of course, that Sirius was gone, but saying it like this somehow made it seem much more
real. More final.

“He is dead?” The old witch in the portrait said, her eyes round. She paused. “Well,” she said
after a while, “deserves him right. How dare he-“

That was the drop for Harry, his temper flowing hotly through his veins, he was absolutely
furious now…!

“ONE more word like that about Sirius, and I swear I will-!”

“What? Destroy me? Sure you are too young to know any curse that can make me go away!”

“Actually, I do!” said Harry angrily. The old woman just laughed.

“Sirius was nothing but a blood-traitor, he had no pride what-so-ever, shame of my flesh! Sirius
was merely a scum, an abomination, a-“

Harry didn’t know what made him do it. Maybe it simply was his temper, boiling over the surface,
or maybe it was just the need to make the awful woman pay, the woman that had made Sirius’ life a
hell already before he went to Azkaban. He just did what felt most natural in that very moment…

“Avada Kedavra!” He shouted, and felt all the rage dart from his wand to the painting. The
bright, green light hit the picture straight in the middle with a rattling sound, leaving nothing
but a large, black hole where Sirius’ mother had been, only a moment before.

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I love cliffhangers, don’t I?

As usual, thanks for all the reviews, and thank you for reading my story!

I hope you don’t find Harry way too much OOC, but this needed to happen. Try to look at the
whole picture, would you?

(By the way, did I mention that I LOVE reviews? Yes, that was a hint… A big one!)

Cheers!



8. Occlumency With Hermione
---------------------------

Another chapter… Hope you’ll like it! For some of you there might be a surprise at the end of
this chapter... (don’t peak!)

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, and a big hug to _Amber_Eyes_!

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Ch8: **OCCLUMENCY** **WITH HERMIONE**

It was like the time had stopped. Harry stood frozen on the spot, his wand still pointing at the
black hole, where the picture of Sirius mum had been.

So he finally got rid off her…

Harry’s wand seemed to glow, and he felt a rush of unwanted excitement through him. The tickling
sensation he had discovered the night he woke after the night he, or Voldemort, had killed the
Patils’, was now not only in his arm, it was trough his whole body. He could even feel it in his
toes!

Disbelievingly, he stared at the hole in what seemed like an eternity, and it took quite some
time before he, slowly, started to realise what he had done. He had used the worst of the
Unforgivables. He had used the Killing Curse! But how could it have worked? He had never done it
before… Not on purpose anyway.

He slowly lowered his wand, shaking. What on earth had possessed him to do such thing?

His scar was tickling, and dimly Harry realised that Voldemort was happy, really happy. He
probably knew what Harry had done already…

The door to the hall, where he was standing, opened suddenly. Molly Weasley came in, looking
very disturbed.

“Harry, dear, what’s taking you so long? ...Oh my!” Mrs Weasley stopped abruptly when she saw
the black hole in the wall and clapped her hand in front of her mouth.

It didn’t take long before Hermione, Arthur, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George Weasley came in to see
what was going on. Harry wished he could disappear in the ground. If Voldemort managed to kill him
sometime, he could just as well do it now, Harry thought dryly.

They started asking him questions, but Harry couldn’t register what they asked him about. It was
like the voices were coming from someplace far away. He felt too dizzy to care.

“Harry, what happened? Are you okay?” Harry finally registered Hermione asking. He opened his
mouth to answer but no sound came out. He closed his mouth again and nodded awkwardly instead. He
felt someone with strong hands grab his shoulder from behind, and Harry’s body went rigid from the
touch. He felt a strong urge to just yell at them to leave him alone.

“Come Harry, let’s go out for a minute, shall we?” said Arthur Weasley and guided him out to the
kitchen.

“I’m okay, Mr Weasley,” said Harry, finally managing to talk again. Mr Weasley had let go off
his shoulders and was now standing in front of him instead.

“What happened, Harry?” he asked.

“Er…”

“Come on, just say it.”

“I used a curse on her, that’s all,” said Harry, absolutely terrified for Mr Weasley to know
what he had done.

“What curse?” Mr Weasley asked, looking curious. “We have been trying to get rid of her for an
year, and we have done everything we could think off. And here you go, getting rid of her with only
one curse! Tell me, what did you use?”

“Er… I don’t remember actually,” Harry lied, hiding his wand behind his back. He knew what was
coming.

“Well,” Arthur said, “there’s always a way we can check it out, if you just give me your wand,
and then-“

“No!” Harry exclaimed, taking two steps back.

“Harry, what-?”

“I won’t let you have it!” Harry repeated, more forcefully, taking another step back.

“You’ve been too much around Moody, mate,” Ron said from the door, and chuckled. Harry faked a
laugh.

“Wanna play some chess?” Ron asked, and Harry, grateful for an excuse to get away, nodded and
went with Ron upstairs.

-

Harry was even easier to beat by Ron in chess than he used to be. Harry’s head kept spinning
with thoughts of his resent actions, and he couldn’t concentrate. Ron even seemed to be a bit tired
of winning every ten minutes, much to Harry’s surprise. Harry never thought he would see the day
Ron was getting tired of winning.

“You aren’t even trying!” Ron exclaimed every now and then when he won an important poem, but
Harry just shrugged. After loosing his fourth game Harry called it quits, and got up.

“I’m sorry. I guess this just isn’t my day.”

Ron nodded, accepting the excuse. “What curse did you use?”

“I don’t know,” Harry answered, using the same excuse he had given Mr Weasley. “I just did
something. It’s not much of a deal, really.”

Ron shook his head. “Blimey, Harry! Not much of a deal? That must’ve been a hell of a
curse!”

Harry grunted. “I’m going upstairs to finish my essay for Dumbledore.”

-

Writing the essay for Dumbledore was harder than Harry thought it would be. At first Harry
couldn’t think of a single thing he thought could be useful against Voldemort. However, after a
while he had an entire list of spells he wanted to learn, many of them from the books he had read
from over the summer, like the ones Remus and Tonks had given him. Harry also wrote down that he
wanted to be an animagus, even though he knew that was very unlikely. After finishing the essay
Harry collapsed on his bed, starring up at the ceiling.

He could give anything for being someone else - anyone else – but himself.

Could it be done? He wouldn’t be surprised if that was. Hermione would probably know... Harry
turned over of the thought of her. Had she accepted Ron’s suggestion? It certainly looked that
way…How painful it was to think about!

His eyes fell over a shadow on his desk. All About The Unforgiveables… He still had the
Disillusionment-charm on it. Stupid book… Why had he even started reading it?

Hedwig flew over to Harry and landed beside him, nipping his ear with her beak, as if she was
trying to comfort him.

“Yeah, yeah, Hedwig, I’m okay, really,” Harry tried to assure her, but she didn’t seem to
listen. Harry sighed, just as somebody knocked on the door.

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice said from behind the door. “Can I come in?”

Harry said nothing.

“Harry, I know you’re in there!”

“Fine!” Harry said, and tried to ignore the feeling of dread in his stomach. “Come in.”

Hermione opened the door and stepped in, looking carefully at Harry. “How are you?” She asked,
her voice only a whisper, as if she too was nervous. Harry gave her a look. She sat down on the bed
beside him.

“Do you remember what we talked about?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I’m guess that you didn’t turn off Ron?”

Hermione looked up at him, like she was searching for something, and then blushing slightly. She
had a weird look in her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What, then?” asked Harry, confused. Hermione sighed.

“That Occlumency thing, remember?”

“Oh… yeah…” said Harry, frowning. He deeply regretted telling her that he wanted to learn
Occlumency now!

“You promised!” exclaimed Hermione, clearly seeing the expression in Harry’s face.

“’Mione…” Harry pleaded, and gave her his best puppy eyes.

“Don’t “Mione’ me!” snapped Hermione. “You promised!”

“Okay, okay,” surrendered, Harry and shrugged. Hermione smiled cunningly.

“I’ve looked it up again, and it’s not really a hard spell to do. The hard part would be to end
it, but that would be okay. So- do you want to start now?”

Harry gulped. “Huh?”

“Right now.”

“Not really, I was –eh- going up to se Buckbeak!”

Hermione gave him a look that matched Harry’s when she had entered the room. “Buckbeak can
wait.”

Harry lowered his head, a little vexatious. He could never win an argument with Hermione.
Hermione pulled him up so they were both standing in the middle of the room.

“Erm, there’s something I want to give you,” she said, and blushed deeply for some reason. Harry
eyes her curiously as she pulled something out from her pocket. “It’s your birthday present. I
wanted to give it to you when we were in that restaurant, but after everything that happened, I
didn’t see it right to give it to you then. I’m so sorry, I should’ve give it to you before.”
Hermione sighed nervously and gave the wrapped present to Harry, who could only stare at it. He had
completely forgotten that he hadn’t gotten a present from her. And if he had remembered, he
would’ve expected a book or something. This was certainly not a book.

“Oh,” he said, and smiled, “that’s okay.”

He opened it carefully, and what he saw made his breath stop. She had gotten him a beautiful,
silver watch. But not an ordinary one, no... on it he saw four hands, with the names: Hermione,
Ron, Ginny and himself. There were also two more hands, but they were nearly invisible, and they
didn’t have any names on. Around it, where there usually would be numbers, he saw letters like;
‘School’, ‘Home’, ‘On Visit’, ‘Lost’, ‘Danger’, and ‘Mortal Peril’. Right now the green hands with
Hermione, Ron and Ginny were on ‘On Visit.’ The clock was in many ways similar to the clock Mrs
Weasley had in the Burrow, Harry realised.

“Hermione!” he said in astonishment, “that must’ve been really expensive! You shouldn’t give
something like that to me!”

Hermione smiled warmly, and placed her hand on his arm. “It’s okay, I wanted to give something
special for a change. You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” whispered Harry, his attention half on the clock and half on her hand. He made a
mental note that he needed to find something just as special to Hermione’s next birthday in
September.

“The clock will glow red if any of us are in danger, and green when we are nearby, like it does
now.” Hermione explained. “I also think it would get warm, so you’ll notice. Do you like it?”

He stared at her in amusement. “Like it? Like it? Hermione- I love it! This is amazing! Where
did you get it?”

Hermione smirked. “I asked Mrs Weasley, and she told me about a store in Diagon Alley where she
got hers from. I went there and bought it a couple of days before I went to your place.”

Harry shook his head. “You’re really something, Hermione...”

“Thanks,” Hermione grinned, looking deep into his eyes. “So, are you ready yet?”

“Ready for what?” said Harry, his mind elsewhere.

“Occlumency…?”

“Oh, right,” Harry laughed faintly, “I guess I am.” He put the watch around his wrist, and felt
his nerves calm down a little.

“You know how it works?” Hermione asked but she didn’t wait to hear the answer. “I’m going to
say ‘Legilimens’, and then you’re going to try to block me out. Er… I haven’t tried it before, but
I think I can do it.”

“You think? You are going to enter my brain and you think you can do it right?” Harry
half-joked, but he didn’t question her any further. He had never seen Hermione not managing
something. Except with the Dementors in third grade that was, he suddenly remembered and got
nervous again.

Hermione let go of his arm. “Yes. But you have to do your best to block me out. The book says
you need to think about as few things as possible, and not let your mind wander. If you do, you
have lost... ready?”

“I’m ready,” said Harry, and concentrated on keeping his head blank. He didn’t succeeded
properly though, because as soon as he heard Hermione say ‘Legilimens!’ he felt his thoughts
wander.

He was one: Flash of green light. A flying motorcycle... (Hadn’t he seen that before?) He was
seven: Dudley and his gang were chasing him around the schoolyard, beating him up. He was eleven:
Hagrid knocking the door down in the small hut… King's Cross station…

Suddenly Harry felt his mind jump, and things were happening much faster: Voldemort out of
Quirrel's head… Tom Riddle, motionless Ginny on the floor, the basilisk…

Every thought were just flash of images… Trelawney's second prophecy… Dementors… Sirius…
Horntail… Second task, seeing Hermione and Ron sleeping under the water, next to Cho and Gabrielle…
Voldemort! Cedric on the ground beside him, his eyes open with surprise, staring at him… mouth
open… Duelling with Voldemort… His mum and dad… Getting away…

Stop it! thought Harry desperately. He didn’t want to do it anymore!

Fifth year…The Thestrals… The DA… Umbridge… I must not tell lies…seeing his dad in Snape's
memory… Hermione hit by a curse… Sirius duelling… Falling through the veil… Harry chasing
Bellatrix… His first attempt on an Unforgivable… Voldemort and Dumbledore duelling... Voldemort
possessing him… AH! The pain! He and Hermione kissing… Kingsley hit by the Killing curses, falling
dead on the floor… Killing Parvati… No, that’s final; no more… he had to stop it…

Harry, standing in front of Mrs Black’s painting…

NO! shouted Harry, but no sound came out of his mouth, I can not let her see that! Harry blocked
her out with every bit of strength and willpower he had, and slowly, very slowly, he began to see
the room more clearly, to see Hermione… She was on her knee with her eyes closed, a pained
expression on her face. He felt his thoughts wander back to where they was – he shouting at the
painting - but he was not letting her see anymore… She had seen enough… Instead Harry tried to
imagine Sirius, like he remembered him when Sirius was happy. But the thoughts soon shifted to see
Sirius falling through the veil once again.

Harry was getting tired now; he wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. He was very tempted
to just letting Hermione see whatever she wanted to see, and get over with it. Surely she must be
getting tired too?

But just in the moment Harry decided to do just that, he saw something else take form in his
head. It was Nagini, Harry realised, as the snake took form and hissed.

“Hello Potter… slept well?”
”What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

The snake snickered. “The question is not what I am doing here, the question is what she is
doing here… Why is she in your mind?”

Harry snorted. “We’re practising.”

“Practising what?” The snake hissed. “If there’s Occlumency you’re talking about then you’re not
doing a good job. Even I can reach you.”

“I’ll snap out of it, then!” Harry hissed back, and focused hard on taking a step forward. It
was like walking in a steam; it was nearly impossible, but finally Harry felt his foot left the
ground and he took a step forward, only to fell over. He took some deep, calming breaths before he
looked over at Hermione, who looked like she was beaten up. She was on the floor and shivering
badly. Small sobs escaped from her lips.

Harry stared dumbfounded at her for some seconds, but quickly got up and lifted her up from the
floor and placed her on his lap, rocking her back and forth like she was a little child. Her
sobbing slowly subsided.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, “I should’ve ended it earlier, but I c-couldn’t d-do it, and…” She
hiccupped.

“It’s okay, ‘Mione,” said Harry, and stroke her hair absently behind her ear. He was pretty
shaken too, but he had, after all, gone through these memories over and over in his dreams more
times than he could count already. He was beginning to get used to them.

He kept rocking her back and forth until she stopped shaking completely and got up. She smiled
weakly up at him.

“What a first lesson, huh?” she tried to joke.

“Yeah…” mumbled Harry, worried about how much she had seen. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Hermione looked up at him. Harry was startled to see that se was a little black under her eyes.
Was she wearing mascara? He wondered. He remembered Petunia always used to complain to go outside
when it rained, because of her make-up.

“No, I don’t think so. Maybe later, thank you for asking though,” said Hermione, biting her lip.
Harry realized he rarely asked her that question. Actually, he couldn’t remember ever asking her
that. Nor could he remember Ron asking. He felt a pang of guilt. Hermione asked that question all
the time. But with Harry and Ron, they only asked her things like ‘did you get hurt? Are you
alright?’ When they were doing or had done something dangerous. Harry made another mental note to
himself. He had to ask her that question more often.

“Oh,” said Hermione, as if she just remembered something important. “Arthur told me to tell you
we’re going to have someone from school over. He wouldn’t go into details, but it had something to
do with a family being attacked.”

Harry looked at her question. Sure he would’ve known it already? Hermione seemed to know what he
was thinking.

“You didn’t know?”

Harry shook his head.

“Maybe it happened when you were awake?” Hermione suggested. Harry just shrugged his shoulders.
He would’ve thought that he would have felt something in his scar, but on the other hand, maybe
Voldemort had found a way for blocking it? He wondered which family that had been attacked this
time.

They didn’t say anything for a while, but Harry felt Hermione looking at him when she thought he
didn’t notice. That made Harry even more uncomfortable, but he tried not to think about it too
much. He didn’t know how much Hermione had seen under their not-so-successful practice, but she had
seen more than she should have.

After a while, Ron and Ginny came up to talk to them. Only Ginny seemed to notice something had
happened.

-

-

It wasn’t until three hours later that Mrs Weasley interrupted them and said that the guest
would be arriving any minute. Harry was glad for the interruption, sense the conversation had come
dangerously close to what happened to Mrs Black’s painting. Harry could tell that even Hermione,
who had been unusually quiet the whole time, also was interested to know what had happened to the
painting.

“Maybe you should greet them alone?” suggested Mrs Weasley friendly, but Harry could tell it was
more than a request.

“All right, Mrs Weasley,” said Harry, and got up from the floor.

“Just Molly, dear,” she said, and Harry disappeared out of the door and downstairs.

Only after a couple of minutes Harry heard a soft knocking on the door. That went quick, he
thought with surprise and opened it.

What he saw made his mouth drop. On the left side of Remus Lupin Harry saw a girl with long,
black hair that he had never thought he would see again

The person standing beside Remus Lupin was Parvati Patil.

* * ¨ * ¨ * ¨* * ¨ * ¨ * ¨* * ¨ * ¨ * ¨* * ¨ * ¨ * ¨* * ¨ * ¨ * ¨* * ¨ * ¨ * ¨* * ¨ * ¨ * ¨* * ¨
* ¨ * ¨* *

Remember to **review** people! Honestly, it won’t take long!



9. The Last Patil
-----------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing is mine.

-

Ch9: **THE LAST PATIL**

Harry felt his jaw drop. It couldn't be her, it was impossible! She was dead! He had seen
her die! He had felt the spell! For a long time Harry couldn't do anything but stare at her as
if she had grown another head.

“You're- you're dead!” Harry suddenly exclaimed, and Lupin gave him a nasty look. Harry
quickly apologized, but the Parvati in front of him didn't seem to notice. She just stared at
the ground; with red and swollen eyes. Harry also noticed that her hair was not as nice as it used
to be, and it had lost some of the shine it used to have. It didn't look like she had combed or
washed it for *weeks*. But the most noticeable part about her was that she looked so… pale and
fragile. Like she had been crying herself to death.

Harry slowly stepped aside so they could come in, his brain working furiously. He couldn't
help but wonder if the person wasn't Parvati, but an impostor with Polyjuice Potion instead.
Merlin, he was actually beginning to think like Moody!

Lupin guided them into the kitchen, but held Harry back for a moment and whispered:

“She's been trough a lot, Harry, don't push her. She's an orphan like you now, I
don't know how well you two know each other from school, but try to show support and
understanding. Take care of her.”

Harry nodded; he understood, even though his brain was fogged with confusion. Anyway, he really
wished he could know what had happened. He just couldn't understand why she was here, when
Harry himself had witnessed her death. It didn't make any sense.

Harry was dimly aware that Lupin had left the room, and he was alone with the person that seemed
to be Parvati.

“Parvati,” said Harry softly, but she didn't respond. Harry approached her and guided her
down on a chair. He sat down beside her where he could see her face.

“Parvati,” he said again, a bit more forcefully. She sniffed, but other than that she didn't
show any respond. Harry sighed. She must be in some kind of shock state. Harry brushed some of her
hair away so he could se her face better. She looked even more awful than he thought!

He didn't know what to do. One part of him just wanted to shake and yell at her so she would
give him an explanation, but that wouldn't be a good idea. He wished Hermione was there with
him instead of being upstairs with Ron and Ginny. She would know what to do. He was absolutely
clueless when it came down to girls!

Not knowing what else to do, he took her cool hand and held it, and told her that if she needed
to talk, she could always come to him. To his surprise he felt her squeeze his hand back gently in
return. Had he done something right after all?

Harry stayed with her for a long time, even though he would rather be almost anywhere else. He
and Parvati had never been special good friends; the closest they had ever been were on the
Yule-ball in forth grade, when he had asked her to come with him simply out of pure desperation
after Cho turned him down.

However, sitting there with Parvati wasn't that bad, Harry figured out after a while. He had
time to think, and he didn't need to worry about being asked questions he didn't want to
answer.

- * -

After twenty minutes Lupin opened the door to the kitchen and motioned for Harry to come out.
Harry let go of Parvati and followed Lupin out.

“Did it go alright?” Lupin asked, and Harry nodded apprehensively.

“Did she say anything?”

“No,” Harry answered.

“Do you mind taking care of her a while? I could ask Hermione of course, but if I'm not
mistaking she and Parvati weren't what you can call friends, and sense you know what happened
to Parvati already, you-“

“But I don't know!” interrupted Harry, staring at the werewolf angrily. How could he just
expect Harry to drop everything in his hands to help Parvati, when it would be better for her to go
to some of her other friends?

Lupin sighed. “But your dream-?”

“In my dream, I saw mys - er - Voldemort kill Parvati!”

Lupin's eyes widened at this and Harry continued: “First, I saw Voldemort killing her
mother, then Bella went in and took Parvati out of her room and ordered her dad to use the
Cruciatus Curse on her! But when-“ Harry stopped, not because Lupin had said anything, but because
of the look Lupin had on his face. At first it looked like he was doing some serious quick
thinking, and then there was something that looked like realization in Lupin's face.

“What?” Harry asked, annoyed.

“What about Padma? What happened to her?” asked Lupin, and Harry caught his breath as the
explanation dawned to him, like a bolt of lightning. It wasn't Parvati he had seen die, it was
Padma, Parvati's twin! Now as Harry thought about it, he realized that had to be the
explanation. Padma looked a lot like Parvati, but he knew it couldn't be Padma who sat in the
other room. One thing was to see them in a dream, when he wasn't awake, but it was completely
different to see them in reality. Padma was the one who died. How could he have been so wrong? He
hadn't even thought about the possibility!

Harry realized he must have been too upset to even think about that it could be Padma. Padma had
been in Ravenclaw, and he didn't really knew she was Parvati's twin until forth grade
before the ball. He couldn't help but feeling stupid though.

Remus Lupin nodded, he understood what Harry was thinking. “You'll take care of her
then?”

Harry nodded, he owed her that much, even though he didn't really want to.

The older man smiled warmly. “Thank you. That'll mean a lot, I'm sure. We don't have
much resources to take care of her as much as she'll need right now. I'm sure she'll be
grateful, well, at least when she gets a little better.“

Harry just shrugged as Remus nodded and went out. Harry wondered if Parvati was ever going to be
all right. She was so breakable. He certainly had some hell of a project to work with.

- * -

Harry stayed with Parvati for over an hour. He was awfully bored, and Parvati had been in the
same position the whole time. Finally he put away the book he had been reading - Alternative Curses
- and lifted Parvati's chin so she had to look at him.

“You can't just sit here all day without doing anything,” Harry told her sternly, and saw
something flash behind her dark eyes. “Let me tell you something,” he continued, “we can either go
upstairs to talk to Ron, Hermione and Ginny, or we can go outside and take a ride on my new
motorcycle. So, what do you say?”

Parvati opened her mouth to speak, but when no sound came out she closed it again. Harry sighed
heavily.

“Look, we have something in common, I've also recently lost someone I cared about.”

Parvati looked confused, so he quickly explained: “Sirius Black was my Godfather and he… went
away not to long ago. I know-“

“He was a murderer!” exclaimed Parvati suddenly, talking for the first time ever. Harry quickly
recovered from the shock.

“That's what everyone believes, yes, but he was innocent. He was known for killing many
muggles including Peter Pettigrew, but I've actually seen Pettigrew at least twice in the last
two years, so that's not true. Peter was the one who sold my parents to Voldemort, and Peter
was also the one who helped Voldemort back to his body.” Harry stopped then, because Parvati had
suddenly felled down from the chair, and was twitching and crying hysterically on the floor.

Harry quickly dived down to her and did the same thing he had done for Hermione earlier that
day.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled, and did his best to comfort her, but she couldn't stop crying.
Suddenly Harry got a weird feeling. He turned his head wearily, as if it should be anyone there,
but the door remained closed.

He quickly got up with Parvati, whose legs wouldn't carry her. He put her back on the chair;
half-thinking he should try a tickling charm on her or something. Parvati stroked one hand across
her face, in an attempt to brush the tears away.

Harry felt like a trapped animal. Not only did he have to be in a room with a crying girl he
didn't know, he also hadn't gotten the chance to train since the day Hermione came over. He
felt a rush of energy under his skin, begging to get out, and he began to pace back and forth on
the floor while Parvati cried.

After five more minutes Harry couldn't stand it anymore.

“Parvati,” he said firmly, barely able to keep his voice even, “we're going to do something,
anything else than just being here! So, I've decided, unless you know something better to do,
that we are going out for a ride. Right now.”

Parvati didn't do anything to show him that she had listened, but Harry didn't care. He
dragged her up from the chair and guided her out to the hall. Outside he saw Lupin staring after
them, and Harry wondered if Lupin had tried to get in earlier. If somebody had tried that was.

Harry shook his head slightly to Lupin, so he wouldn't follow them.

As soon as they reached the entrance, Harry found his own and Parvati's jacket, which he
gave her and told her to get on quickly. He wanted to get out fast before anyone knew what they
were up to; he doubted they would let him and Parvati go if they knew what he had planned.

Parvati hesitated, but in the end she just shrugged and took on her jacket. Harry guided her
out, took out the motorcycle out from his pocket, and enlarged it. Parvati's jaw dropped
slightly, and Harry smirked in a very Slytherin way.

Harry swung his right leg over the bike, and helped Parvati up behind him. He turned around and
told her to hold on tight and squeeze him tight if she wanted to go slower, before he silently told
the bike to roll forward. Immediately Parvati squeezed him tight around the waist, but that only
seemed to be out of shock, because she soon slackened her grip again. Harry told the bike to speed
up and fly, and soon they were flying high up in the sky. Luckily it was rather dark and empty
under them, so the muggles wouldn't see, but he still wouldn't take any chances. The bike
turned invisible, and he heard Parvati cry out, but he grabbed her arm so she knew that he was
still there and safe.

After a while, she seemed to settle a bit, and Harry could truly enjoy the view of the small
town underneath them. The moon was not full but still very large, and the blank lake ahead of them
reflected the light. The stars shone brighter than he ever could've remember seeing them, and
they seemed so close that he got the feeling he could almost reach them if he took his arm high.
They flew even higher.

The longer they flew, the more motionless did Parvati seem to get, and after twenty minutes
Harry turned around so they could get back. Halfway home though, he got a weird, uncomfortable
feeling deep down in his stomach. Something wasn't right. Quickly, he reached out behind him,
but Parvati was still there. Calm down, he told himself, he was getting far too paranoid.

However, after ten more minutes with flying, Harry suddenly felt the bike slow down against his
will. He briefly wondered if they needed more gas or something, but then the bike lifted behind him
and seemed much lighter. Feeling nauseous, he quickly reached out behind him again, but this time
Parvati wasn't there!

Harry almost fainted of the shock. *Oh Merlin!*

Turning the bike down sharply, and saw Parvati falling through the air in an amazing speed.
*He wasn't going to make it!*

He turned the bike down even sharper, so they were as good as vertical to the ground, and it was
all he could do to not fall of. All his thoughts were on reaching Parvati before she hit the
ground. However, the bike was large and clumsy compared to a broomstick, and the wind was like an
enormous wall against him. He tried to hide behind the front of the bike because he got tears in
the eyes, but it didn't help much. Parvati was still much further down from him, and the ground
came towards them with sickening speed. He wouldn't get there soon enough, it went way to
slow...

Suddenly, a small, insane idea sneaked up in his head. Quickly - his bike slowing just a bit -
he reached for his wand, pointed it at Parvati, and cried:

*“ACCIO PARVATI! ACCIO PARVATI!”*

He hadn't really expected it to work, but then the most amazing, wonderful thing happened;
Parvati slowed up and stopped falling! He quickly caught up with her, still focusing on not
dropping the charm, and took her hand. It felt cold and damp, like she had already died. And Harry
had touched a dead hand before.

With a swift movement that almost detached his arm, he pulled her up in front of him. It was a
good thing he had trained over the summer, or else he could never have done it.

Parvati just blinked at him as Harry drove down towards the ground slowly, and then she suddenly
looked angry. As soon as they landed and Harry asked the bike to turn of the engine, she started
yelling at him, her face dark red.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?”

“Pardon?” asked Harry, dumbfounded.

“WHY DID YOU GO AFTER ME? WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST HAVE LET ME FALL? WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST
HAVE LET ME *DIE?”*

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, he was getting really angry himself now, and he had a major
problem with controlling it. Parvati stared back at him with furious, dark eyes for a second, but
then her façade broke and she burst out crying again. She felled down on her knees, her hands
covering her face, sobbing hysterically. She was practically having a breakdown, and Harry had no
idea what to do. Merlin should know he was hopeless, especially with sobbing girls, so why was he
always stuck with them?

He sat down beside her and waited for her to get it all out.

- * -

It took quite a while for her. Harry didn't dear to think of what kind of reaction he would
get when they got back. They must be really angry… and worried. Worried for their tool. He snorted
for himself; he had always wanted someone to care where he went, what he did, and why he did it,
but now he dreaded to go back because that's exactly what was going to happen.

Unfortunately, the time came where Parvati somehow collected herself. Harry wondered how she
could even stand on her feet after all the sobbing, but he kept his mouth shut. Cold, and in
Parvati's case also wet, they rode the last bit to Grimmauld Place number12.

- * -

- * -

As he expected, Harry found Remus, Molly and even Arthur waiting for him when he got back, and
they looked really angry. Parvati was tired, so she went straight to bed, but Harry was stuck with
the adults.

“Harry, do you have any, any idea at all, how *dangerous* it is to just go out like that?
WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” asked Remus dangerously, and Harry was unpleasantly surprised by the
harshness of his words. Lupin wasn't exactly the one who easily lost his temper.

“Harry, I'm very disappointed of you! How could you just go off like that-?“ said Arthur
Weasley, but Molly was the worst:

“WHERE *HAVE* YOU BEEN? GO OFF LIKE THAT? DON'T YOU HAVE ANY CONCERN ABOUT HOW MUCH WE
NEED YOU? HOW MUCH THE WIZARDING WORLD NEEDS YOU? HOW COULD YOU? ARTHUR AND I HAVE TAKEN CARE OFF
YOU LIKE YOU WERE OUR OWN SON, AND THEN YOU STILL-!”

It was like being slapped in the face. Harry honestly didn't thought it would be this bad,
he only wanted to help. He did his best to keep a straight face as he waited for them to get
finished, but it was hard. To his horror he didn't only want to yell back, he also felt like
crying. It was not a combination he liked or even wanted to think about, but that was how he felt.
He knew he had been stupid, he knew he had been thoughtless, and he knew it almost had ended
horribly wrong, even though the adults didn't know that part.

“I'm sorry,” he said when the shouting had quietened a bit, but that only resulting in them
shouting again.

“*NOW* YOU'RE SORRY? DID YOU EVER THINK-?”

Harry stared at them unblinkingly until they had finished, then he escaped up the stairs before
they could say anything else. He was now angrier than anything else, and the anger even went down
to his fingertips.

Harry used several minutes to calm himself down. He knew it would be stupid of him to face
anybody now, because if he did then he would snap for certain. When he finally felt calm enough to
face the rest, he began to search for the other teenagers.

He found them in the same room he had left them, only on the couch. Hermione was reading a book,
and Ron was leaning over her as if he too was trying to read. Harry knew better though, and he felt
his heart sting.

“Hi guys,” he greeted them carefully. Hermione looked up at him and smiled, but Ron scowled back
at him, startling Harry. The red-head clearly wanted to be left alone with her.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, and raised his eyebrow at him, who glared stubbornly back.
Hermione frowned.

“What's wrong with you two?” She asked, looking over at Harry, and then at Ron, who suddenly
looked normal and shook his head. Without saying anything Harry went to bed, feeling more alone
than he had at the Dursleys.

- * -

- * -

Harry didn't feel much better the following morning. He had woken up early, and he decided
to go out for a run like he had done every morning at the Dursleys. The fresh air helped a lot, but
he was still in a somber mood when came back to prepare to the lesson with Dumbledore. He actually
wrote down twice as much on the list that Dumbledore had assigned him than he had before,
everything that Harry could imagine he could use or just wanted to learn. Harry then wrote the most
important ones on a separate note. Some of it he doubted even Dumbledore wanted Harry to learn, but
he wrote them down anyway.

- * -

After he was done Harry made breakfast for everyone, what took him more time than he had thought
in the first place, because there were a lot of people staying at the moment. Harry ate his food as
fast as he could, and he had cleaned up his plate Mrs. Weasley and Ginny came downstairs. Both of
them seemed shocked that Harry had made breakfast before they even got up from bed, but Harry
quickly escaped the room before they could make any more comments.

- * -

To make the time pass Harry locked himself up in the room Dumbledore would be teaching him in,
and locked the door with the strongest locking charm he could accomplish. He had brought the
'*All About the Unforgivables**'* with him, because he attended to give it back
to where it belonged. However, since Dumbledore wouldn't arrive until at least half an hour
later, Harry decided, somewhat bitterly, to finish the book. He was afraid it was something he had
missed that was important. Perhaps he was just too stubborn to give it up, but he didn't like
the thought of leaving something out. Besides, Harry had already used them, and would probably have
to do it again. If he came to a “kill or be killed” situation, as he certainly would at some point,
it could save his life. It was against his morals and it was extremely dangerous, but he had to
learn it.

He settled in an armchair in the corner, and mournfully looked through the pages of the book. He
didn't find anything that looked new, except from some comments from people that had used it
themselves. He kept looking, until something caught his eye. The book was saying something about
consequences, but it was something he hadn't noticed before:

*When the caster put so much emotion in the curse as he or she would have to do for the curse
to work properly, it is not without a prize. Not only would the caster risk a life-sentence in
Azkaban, the Wizard Prison guarded by Dementors, but the caster's soul would also be affected.
The soul would be forever marked, depending on how* **much** *the caster enjoyed
it.*

*The feeling of power is addict able, and the caster would in most cases feel strongly tempted
to use an Unforgivable again in the future. If recently used, it would have an effect on Dark
Detectors,-*

Harry stopped reading. Full of regret he threw the book across the room, so it landed with a
*thump* in a corner. Absentmindedly he rubbed his forehead between his head, and groaned.

“Something wrong, Harry?” he heard Dumbledore's concerned voice from the door. Harry's
head jerked up, and his gut clenched painfully in dread. *How long had he been there?*

“No, Professor,” answered Harry quickly; bowing his head so Dumbledore couldn't see that he
was dishonest. Dumbledore sighed and conjured a purple armchair so he could sit beside Harry.

“You're early,” said Harry, and straightened up a little.

“So are you,” said Dumbledore nodded, the twinkling back in his eyes.

“I have that list,” said Harry, and handed it over to Dumbledore, who read it with an amused
expression on his face. Harry looked over Dumbledore shoulder at the list, and wondered what he was
thinking about it.

*-**Confundus charm*

*-**Freezing charm*

*-**Burning charm*

*-**Binding charm*

*-**Tracking charm*

*-**Message spell*

*-**Apparating*

Here was the Place Harry had stopped the first time, and he felt his face redden as he looked
down the rest of the list:

*-**Absorbing energy curse*

*-**Punching spell*

*-**Cutting/Gashing curse*

*-**Portkey spell*

*-**Knee-reversal hex*

*-**Privacy shield*

*-**The shield Voldemort used in MoM*

*-**The shield you used on my birthday*

*-**Become an Animagus*

*-**Occlumency and Legilimency.*

When Dumbledore had finished, he turned to face Harry with a very serious expression on his
face.

“You do realize that some of this is Dark Arts, Harry?”

Harry looked down at his hands. “Yes, sir.”

“You do realize that some of this is very advanced magic?”

Harry looked up again at this, almost defiantly. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you really want to be an animagus?”

“Yes. Sir.”

“Very well, then,” said Dumbledore, clapping his hands together. “I can't promise that we
can cover all of it, but let's see what we can do.”

Harry nodded, excited. “Great!”

They, at least Dumbledore, decided they should start at the top of the list and continue down
after Harry could do them. They started with the Confundus charm, a Confusion charm, which
wasn't really so difficult to do, as Harry had feared. After ten minutes Harry had managed it
successfully. Next they started with a simple Freezing charm, `*Peskipiksi Pesternomi'*,
which wasn't so effective, but could be used anyway. Harry realized the charm was good for
everyday-life, but not in a duel. They tried the more advanced one too, but after a while Harry
wanted to move on to the Burning charm.

Again they started on the easiest one; `*Flagrate'*, which Harry had some experience
from already, since he had seen Hermione cast them to mark the doors in Minister Of Magic before
the term ended. After that they used another Burning charm, Incendio. Harry had used that charm
before, but this time they practiced on the flame too not only be a little flame, but a small bomb
with fire. Harry was amused, he didn't even know it was possible.

They practiced the spells in one hour, and then Dumbledore asked Harry if he wanted some
rest.

“Absolutely not, Professor!” Harry grinned up at him, “This is fun!”

Dumbledore chuckled.

-->



10. The Snake and the Egg
-------------------------



**Disclaimer:** Obviously, Harry Potter is not mine. The whole story is for fun...

-

Ch10: **THE SNAKE AND THE EGG**

They continued on to the Binding charm. That one wasn't so easy, Harry quickly found out.
One thing was to conjure the ropes, but there was something completely different to tie the ropes
around an object so it couldn't escape. Dumbledore instructed him in how he was supposed the
make circles with his wand and say `*Incarcero*', but Harry didn't manage it as fast
as he had hoped to do. It was like something was holding him back.

“Oh, *come on! Incarcero*!” he huffed and made circular movement on the chair they were
practicing on. Rope sprang from his wand and wrapped itself around the chair. For a moment it
actually seemed like he had made it, but then the ropes loosened up and fell on the floor and
disappeared. Harry moaned.

“Patience, Harry!” commanded Dumbledore.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Harry, and tried again with no greater success. Both of them sighed at the
same time.

“I think this is enough for today,” said Dumbledore.

“No!” Harry begged, “Please, I just want to do it!”

“Very well.”

Harry took a deep breath and collected himself. He was going to do it this time! He started to
do the circular moves with his wand and shouted, “*Incarcero!”* The ropes once again sprung
from his wand and around the chair. This time it stayed put for about ten seconds. Harry smiled
thinly; at least he was doing some progress... he turned to the Headmaster. “Okay, now I feel
comfortable to take a rest! Oh! Um -thank you for helping me, Headmaster.”

“My pleasure,” Dumbledore nodded pleasantly and left with an encouraging twinkle in his eyes in
Harry's direction.

-

Harry, however, only rested in ten minutes before he decided to try again. He wanted to manage
it better and he wasn't going to give up. *He* *has powers Voldemort has
not…r**ight! he thought sarcastically to himself. Voldemort wouldn't have any problem
conjuring some stupid ropes around a chair!*

It took one more half an hour before he finally felt like he was doing it right. The ropes would
cling on to the chair for about two minutes then. Finally; deciding he had enough for the day, he
went up to take a shower.

On his way up he walked past Mrs. Weasley; who seemed shocked, Hermione; who looked up at him
oddly, and Ron; who didn't seem to notice him.

“We are going to Diagon Alley soon, do you want to come? And why are you all sweaty?” asked Mrs.
Weasley, and Ron looked up briefly. Harry carefully avoided his eyes.

“I've been practicing,” he answered, “I guess I can come if I'm allowed to take a shower
first. What do we do about Parvati?”

Hermione - who had raised an eyebrow that Harry had been practicing - frowned. He sent her a
reassuring smile and felt his stomach tighten a little bit.

“Lupin asked me to take care of her.”

“She's asleep,” said Mrs. Weasley, answering Harry's question. He nodded, and went up to
take the shower.

-

When Harry was done and came downstairs, feeling clean but not completely dry yet, Molly grabbed
his arm.

“There you are!” she said and guided him to the fireplace, where the others already were lined
up. Harry rolled his eyes mentally of himself; his shower had probably been in vain.

It didn't take long before they were walking in a group in the unusually quiet street of
Diagon Alley.

“Why is everyone so quiet?” asked Ron incredulously. It was all Harry could do to not kick his
leg.

“Honestly Ron, do you really think people want to draw attention to them now as they know
Voldemort is back?” snapped Hermione. That seemed to shut Ron up, though it didn't stop him
from glaring at Harry angrily as though it was Harry's fault.

After they were done shopping the thing they needed, they went down to *Weasley's
Wizarding Wheezes,* Fred and George new joke shop. The twins were delighted to have their family
over for a visit, especially Harry. They said it was good PR, which nobody protested against.

Harry browsed and bought a lot. He had a feeling they would need some laughs in the following
year. He actually felt a little better being in the shop, like the real world only existed outside
the walls and not inside.

“We got to go, Harry,” said Hermione from the door to draw Harry's attention. He huffed
softly and followed her and the rest of the Weasleys out of the door. Fred and George waived
cheerfully after them. Ginny came up on the left side of Harry.

“Hi,” she said, blushing slightly.

“Hi Ginny,” said Harry, but couldn't help to look around him all the time in case some Death
Eaters were approaching. The tense atmosphere in Diagon Alley made him feel more alert for each
step he took.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked, grabbing his upper arm. Harry startled, and Ginny quickly
withdraw her hand as if she were burned.

“Ouch!” she said, massaging her hand. “What did you do that for?”

“Did what?” asked Harry in return, confused.

“You burned me!” she exclaimed. The Weasleys and Hermione stopped dead in their tracks, and
Harry suddenly felt like he had been caught spying.

“I did not!” he denied.

“Yes, you did!”

“No, I didn't!”

“You did!” she protested, and showed him the palm of her hand that was much more red than
normal.

Harry sighed, maybe he had, after all. “Sorry, Gin, I didn't mean to. You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, but kept a good distance from him after that.

“Just trying to stay alert, that's all,” he mumbled. Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to know
what to do or say about that matter, and chose to keep quiet about it.

-

They didn't stay long in Diagon Alley, even though Diagon Alley had a lot of guards and
security arrangements. Death Eaters could still attack, especially if they knew Harry Potter was
there.

Harry didn't waste a minute when they had flooed back to Grimmauld Place 12. He ran straight
to the library, and began to search for a book about Occlumency. After ten minutes he found a book
that looked like could contain some information. The cover was dull brown and golden letters with
the text: `*A Path to the Mind**'* shone up at him. Harry suspected that also this
book contained Dark Arts, but there weren't exactly many books about Occlumency he could choose
from, so he had to take it.

He sat down in an armchair and had just opened the book to read it when Hermione came in. Her
eyes widened at the sight of Harry, but then she smiled and came over. Harry, ignoring the
butterflies he suddenly had, put away the book and greeted her.

“What are you reading?” she asked curiously, and cocked her head in a very cute way. He noticed
the way her hair would fall to the same side when she did that.

“A book about Occlumency… `A Path to the Mind'”, he explained vaguely.

“Oh!” she suddenly exclaimed, clapping her hands together like a little child, “Can I read it
with you?”

“Sure,” he said, moving to the floor so both of them could read at the same time. Hermione
settled down beside him, and Harry felt a wave of gratitude towards her for being his friend. She
seemed to notice and gave him a quick, warm smile, before he opened the book and they started to
read.

-

The book was very informative. It explained everything from how to empty your mind to enter
others. For example; the fact that meditating had helped a lot of wizards and how candles in a
circle could help you relax and get more aware of yourself and your thoughts. It also explained
that to just empty your mind wasn't enough, you also had to get rid of *all* emotions, or
else it would be very easy for an intruder to manipulate him- or herself in. Several times Harry
found himself frowning. If only Snape would have bother to tell him this then it perhaps
wouldn't have been so difficult!

“Do you want to try any of it?” asked Hermione suddenly, her voice a little nervous, and Harry
was snapped out from his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“The candle-thing?” she asked again, and sat up slowly.

“I dunno…” Harry couldn't help but feel a bit stupid of the thought. “Do we have any
candles?” he asked, not wanting to sound like a coward.

“I think so, down in the kitchen. Should I get some?”

Harry hesitated; he didn't really feel up to it. What if somebody walked in on them? That
would be so embarrassing!

Hermione scowled at him. “What's the point of reading that book if you doesn't want to
try anything? You-”

“All right, all right, get the candles then!” he snapped, and Hermione disappeared. Harry felt
bad about snapping at her, so he quickly apologized when she came up again with the candles. She
just smirked at him and began to arrange the candles.

Harry still had bad feelings about it.

“Okay, all set,” she said and lit them. They both moved inside the ring and sat on the opposite
side of each other, holding hands. Hermione's hands, Harry noticed, seemed to be a bit damp.
They both tried to relax and empty their minds.

To empty his head was one thing, Harry noticed, but there was something else to get rid of the
feeling that where soaring through his veins. He felt very uneasy and self-conscious, and at the
same time he felt a warm, prickling feeling from his fingers, where he held Hermione, to his
shoulders. *No,* he thought, *this is not the time to think about it. Empty yourself
now…*

Harry regained his composure, and after a some time he felt a little more comfortable. Hermione
seemed to be utterly relaxed the whole time, Harry noticed with slight irritation and
admiration.

He sighed heavily, only focusing on a black wall and nothing else.

-

After a while the both of them lost the track of time, actually, Harry wasn't aware of
anything anymore, the blackness was overwhelming. He was certain that not even Snape or Dumbledore
could force themselves into his mind right then. His head felt oddly disconnected with his body,
and it had begun to throb slightly, as if he was getting a headache.

Satisfied, Harry decided he could end it, but to snap out of it wasn't as easy as he would
have liked it to be. It was like he was swimming to the surface from a very deep ocean. Suddenly,
he felt someone shaking his shoulders, and he inhaled sharply, and opened his eyes. Ron was
standing over him with a very annoyed expression. The candles had gone out.

“What are you doing?” Ron asked, looking from Harry to Hermione and back at Harry again.

“Practicing Occlumency,” answered Harry truthfully, carefully keeping any resentment he felt for
Ron at the moment out from his voice.

“Really?” asked Ron, arching an eyebrow, as if he didn't quite believe him. “Funny, I
didn't see you do anything like this last year. It looks more like you're having a ritual
or something!”

Harry looked over to Hermione, who now had her eyes open, staring intently at him. He was
suddenly aware of that he still held her hands, but he didn't want to let go, so he stubbornly
held on to them. If Ron didn't like it then it was Ron's problem, not Harry's.

“Right then,” said Ron, clearly trying to draw attention to himself. “Er, Hermione?” he asked
when he finally saw Hermione looking at him, “Can we talk?”

She hesitated, but then nodded slowly. “Sure.” She gave Harry an `I'm sorry' look and
followed Ron out. Harry sighed as the loneliness washed over him again. He had a feeling that Ron
was trying to steal Hermione from him, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

He really wished he could have someone to talk to, it didn't matter who, even a snake could
do right now. If he only could find or conjure- Harry suddenly stopped his train of thoughts. He
*could* conjure a snake; he had seen Draco Malfoy do it in his second year! He stood up
quickly, feeling excited and pointed the wand at the floor in front of him.

“*Serpensortia!”*

A big, golden snake shot from his wand and landed with a hiss in front of him. Harry's
breath was caught in his throat.

*“Can you hear me?”* asked Harry in Parselmouth, his mouth strangely dry. The snake turned
its head and looked at Harry with bright, emerald eyes that could match Harry's own.

*“Yesss,”* the snake hissed.

“Hi,” said Harry, not really knowing what else to say. The snake only glared at him and took its
tongue in and out to smell him.

*“Do you have a name?”* asked Harry politely, and lay down beside the creature. He felt
totally safe with the snake.

*“Name? No, I have not.”*

*“Why not?”*

*“I do not belong here,*” the snake answered.

Harry said nothing.

*“What isss troubling you, human?”* the snake asked.

Harry rubbed his forehead. *“It is my-“* Harry tried to say `friend,' but there
didn't seem to be a word for that in Parselmouth*. “My -brother,”* he tried again, and
continued: “*He is jealous in something both he and I have, but he want**s* *it for
himself.”*

*“I sssee,”* the snake said, *“Doesss he ssshowsss fangsss?”*

“*Kind of. He* *tries to keep me away*.”

*“What `thing' are we talking about?”*

*“A -female*,” Harry was a little embarrassed of the word, but there didn't seem to be
a word for `girl' either.

*“Do you want thisss female?”*

Harry felt himself go red. *“I do not know,”* he confessed.

*“Isss ssshe worth fighting for?”*

*“Yes! I think so at least*,” Harry answered, *“but I can't risk losing my -brother
-in the process.”*

*“What about an other female?”* the snake asked.

*“I do not know,”* Harry said again and sighed. *“It is complicated.”*

*“You are frussstrated*,” the snake said matter-of-factly.

*“Yes.”*

*“I need to go sssoon.”*

*“Why?”* asked Harry, he didn't want the snake to go.

*“Asss I sssaid, I do not belong to thisss world.”*

*“Can I summon you again?”*

*“Yesss, but I would not remember anything of thisss.”*

Harry felt even sadder. The snake seemed to notice.

*“I can give you something of mine. Ssso you have someone to talk to that would not
leave.”*

*“You can?”*

*“Yesss. You ssseem worthy. Very few can talk our language*.”

Harry smiled at this, *“Thank you, but what is it?”*

*“An egg. Our sssort can only give away one egg, so you have to take good care of it. Keep it
warm, and feed my baby when he isss born.”*

*“Yes, of course!”* Harry's heart hammered wildly in his chest.

The great, golden snake studied him for a moment. Then she began to coil around herself, much
faster than Harry would have thought were possible for a snake her size. She spans faster and
faster until all Harry could she was a whirl with fire, and some small sparkles, and then she was
gone. All that remained was a golden egg with the size of a chicken egg.

He carefully crawled over to it, and took the cool, smooth egg up in his hand. It was simply
perfect.

He remembered what the snake said about keeping it warm, and he wondered how he could do that.
He couldn't simply take it in a cauldron over the fireplace, like Hagrid had done with the
Dragon Egg. He wondered if Hermione would come back, but it didn't seem like she would. Harry
wondered if she really was worth fighting for, and what would happen if he did. He would probably
lose Ron's friendship, and it wasn't even certain that Hermione even liked him that way, or
even if he liked her that way, and if both of them did, it wasn't even certain that they could
work it out.

Even thinking about it felt strange, but on the other hand he didn't like the thought of Ron
having her either.

Harry thought back in how it had been in forth grade, when he and Ron had argued because Ron
didn't believe Harry when he had said that he didn't put his name in the Goblet. It had
been awful, and he was glad he had Ron back as his friend. But still, he couldn't help but
feeling a little hurt of the memory that Ron didn't believe him. That Ron actually thought
Harry was just seeking more attention to himself by risking his life yet again. He should've
known better...

Harry sighed heavily and put the egg in his pocket. At least there it wouldn't get too
cold.

-

Harry didn't see Hermione before the next morning. She looked very sad and tired, and
wouldn't meet his eyes. Harry wondered what Ron had said to her and felt a flash of anger that
quickly threatened to boil over. It was so close to the surface those days...

Almost instantly he felt a sharp tug in his right arm, and he jumped in surprise. Nobody seemed
to notice, but Harry froze in his spot and felt very uneasy. The feeling ended as soon as it had
came, and he shook his head. Maybe he had just slept in a bad position.

Parvati came down for breakfast, but she didn't eat anything. Harry felt bad for her, and he
wondered how it would have been like for him if he had lost his parents now, instead of when he was
one year old, when he didn't understand much. He guessed it would have been terrible either
way, but on the other hand he wouldn't have to live with the Dursleys. Harry shivered*. If
only Sirius was alive*…

-

After the breakfast Harry went for a run, the egg glued with a spell in his hand so he
wouldn't lose it. He actually missed boxing a bit because it felt so good to punch the energy
out, but there was hardly anything he could do about it.

After he was done he went up to the library, so he could study more in the Occlumency book. On
the way he ran into Ron.

Both of them stopped abruptly, and shared an uncomfortable silence.

“What have I done, Ron?” asked Harry finally and waited.

“Huh, nothing -mate,” said Ron with contempt and tried to get past Harry. Harry pushed him back,
he had had enough.

“Tell me!” Harry demanded, getting impatient.

“What has Hermione told you?” asked Ron, red growing on the ears. Harry thought back, but
couldn't seem to find the answer for what Ron wanted to know.

“About what?”

“About me!” said Ron, getting more and more red for each minute.

“That you wanted to date her,” answered Harry truthfully.

“She did, did she? Was it before or after the article in Daily Prophet?

“What article?” asked Harry, but when Ron gave him a look he remembered. “Oh, that article?
Right…”

“What did you do, anyway?” Ron asked, “Did you kiss?” Now it was Harry's turn to go red. He
couldn't believe they had this conversation.

“Uh, -no?”

“*You did!”* Ron exclaimed, “How *could* you?”

Harry didn't answer, but instead he said: “Hey, Ron, we agreed that there couldn't be
anything more between us! We don't wanna lose you!”

Ron shot him a murderous look and left. This time Harry didn't try to stop him.

-->



11. Back To Hogwarts
--------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

-

Ch11: **BACK** **TO HOGWARTS**

After Ron had left Harry had a big knot in his stomach. In a doleful mood he walked to the
library, where he originally were going. He was startled by the sound of someone crying.

Hermione.

Carefully he walked towards her, his heart melting at the sight of her. She was sitting in an
armchair; her legs hoisted up to her chin, and her arms protectively around herself.

“'Mione?” he asked softly, and settled down beside her. “What's wrong?”

Hermione didn't answer, she just buried her face deeper down between her knees.

“Is it Ron?” asked Harry, already knowing the answer.

Hermione nodded.

“He has asked you to stay away from me, hasn't he?” asked Harry, getting angrier every
second.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, and then nodded again. Harry didn't say anything more, he
just grabbed `A Path to the Mind' and left.

While he walked towards his room, he took the egg up from his pocket. He didn't know exactly
why the egg and the snake within were so appealing to him, except from the fact that he needed
someone to talk to.

“Hatch soon,” he told the egg, and put it carefully back in his pocket.

-

-

The final days before the term started approached quickly. Every day Harry would keep up with
his morning run and every other day his lesson with Dumbledore. That was the only times in the day
he actually had some kind of fun, and that was saying something.

The rest of the time went to reading and sleeping. If Hermione hadn't been so depressed that
she actually couldn't study very much, (this definitely was saying something!) Harry could have
given her a run for the money.

Harry often kept Parvati with company, but he wasn't making any special progress with her.
He had gotten some small conversations with her from time to time, and she actually had started
eating a bit after Harry told her that her family wouldn't have wanted her to suffer, and by
doing that to herself she didn't repay them much. That, if anything, seemed to work a bit.
However, except from that, he could just as well have been alone, because she wasn't doing much
else.

Ginny seemed to be avoiding Harry after the encounter in Diagon Alley. Harry was getting really
angry with her; he hadn't meant to hurt her, and she should know that. But, of course, maybe
she just was supporting her brother, like the rest of the Weasleys -except Molly, and perhaps
Arthur, was.

Harry and Dumbledore had just finished the Tracking charm and were now due to start on the
Message Spell. The Message Spell was a spell Harry had found in the book he had gotten from Tonks
to his birthday, and could be very useful. The only problem was that it was very advanced magic,
and was done in a different way than Harry had practiced before. You had to think of the message
you wanted to send, and then say `anunciar' for it to work. Harry had gotten some golden sky
out from his wand, but that was about it. Dumbledore had been very pleased with Harry's quick
progress in the Binding and Tracking charm, and Harry felt like he should do this just as quickly.
It was expected from him, and he expected it from himself.

Harry didn't know if he really wanted to go back to Hogwarts that year. He didn't look
forward to be the middle of attention again, and he didn't look forward to all the noise and
problems that always found him in one way or another. And how could he keep practice with his
morning run and his lessons with Dumbledore when he was there, and everybody, including him, would
be very busy?

Hedwig hooted from his bed, and flew over to where Harry was sitting in front of the enchanted
window.

“Hi girl,” said Harry and stroke absentmindedly over her feathers. She stood perfectly still, as
if she understood that Harry needed her to just bee there for him.

-

Harry didn't come down to lunch that day, nor did he show up to dinner. He was hungry, but
he didn't feel much comfortable sitting together with Ron and many other people when they just
kept scowling at him when they thought he didn't notice.

Harry felt a pang of jealousy. The Weasleys was the family he had always wanted. He family where
they supported each other no matter what, a family you could turn to. It didn't matter that
they were poor. The last couple of years Harry had almost felt like a part of that family whenever
he came to visit, but now it was obvious that he could never be a part of them. The only reason
they had been friendly towards him in the first place, was because he was the Boy Who Lived, and
felt sorry for him.

Harry's jealousy quickly turned to anger when he thought of it. How could he have been so
blind? So naïve?

Harry was suddenly aware of that his arm was tickling. He glanced down at it, but it looked
perfectly normal. Why shouldn't it be? He wondered.

-

-

One day before the term started Harry couldn't stand to be alone or with Parvati anymore,
and he went to look for Hermione.

She wasn't particular hard to find, she lay stretched out on a couch in the library, asleep,
with a book over her stomach.

Harry bent over her and took away the book, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, but Harry took a hand over her mouth, silencing her.

“Hermione, we need to talk, I don't care what Ron says.”

She nodded and sat up, allowing Harry to talk. Harry sighed, not exactly knowing how to
begin.

“Hermione, you-“ Harry paused for a moment while he tried to find another way to explain what he
had on mind. When he didn't find one, he swallowed hard, and said: “You're really special
to me. I don't think I can ever tell you how much you mean to me, but… I want you to be happy.
I thought you would be happy with Ron, but everybody can see that you aren't.”

Harry looked up at her and was about to continue, but when he saw that her eyes filled with
tears, all words escaped him.

Hermione sniffed and tried to brush the tears away. It didn't work all that well though,
because it kept coming new ones replacing where the old ones had been.

“I just don't know what to do!” She suddenly cried out, “I mean- I think it could've
been something with Ron at some point, but… I'm not sure -if… if… I just wish -I… just some
more time!” Suddenly Hermione got an angry look behind her eyes, and her voice grew steadier. “But
Ron he… I don't know… It's like he sees me as a competition or something! I just don't
get it! I don't know what to do!”

Harry thought for a minute, and then he said slowly, but with difficulty: “I think you should
give him some time. But don't make him do anything with you that you don't -er- want to.
Whatever makes you happy.”

“Thanks Harry,” said Hermione, looking down.

“But-“ said Harry, a bit more firmly, “I don't want him to come between us. I need you.” -A
lot, Harry added for himself.

“Thank you, that means a lot,” said Hermione and managed a weak smile, before she lay her head
down on the couch again in frustration, “How did everything get so bloody complicated?”

“That's Ron's line,” joked Harry, and Hermione laughed.

“Yeah, I know. But how are you doing? I haven't seen you around much lately.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not that popular these days.”

“I've noticed,” said Hermione softly, and gave him a tight embrace, which Harry
returned.

-

-

Harry had hoped that things with Ron would improve before they want to the Hogwarts express, but
not much had changed when Harry said goodbye to the Weasleys. Lupin and Tonks would keep them with
company, or rather, safety assurance, and Harry, Hermione, Ginny and a reluctant Ron had to find an
apartment that were big enough for all of them. Parvati joined them, but she didn't seem to be
there with spirit.

They practically had to sit on each other's lap, but it didn't take long before Lupin
and Tonks took turns in patrolling the corridors, and Hermione and Ron had to go to the Prefect
meeting. Harry sighed with relief when Ginny could move down from his lap. She had a very pointy
bottom, and he was beginning to lose the feeling in his left leg.

He used a lot of time just staring outside the window. Sometimes Tonks or Lupin, depending on
who were there with him, tried to get him, Ginny or Parvati to talk, but to no success.

After half an hour Draco, Crabbe and Goyle came to see them as usual.

“Nothing better to do, Malfoy?” said Harry tiredly, rolling his eyes. Draco seemed to pay them a
visit every year.

Draco eyed him for a moment, and then he smirked. “What do you need a old teacher for, Potter?
Do you want to get better grades or something? You will need it…”

“Probably,” said Harry, with a completely cool voice. Malfoy was not going to get to him this
time.

“You don't have much time, you know,” said Malfoy, his tone dropping with every word.

“How come?” asked Harry, uninterested. Ginny looked up, with an unreadable expression.

“You should know Potter, that I hear things, even though Father is in prison at the moment…”

“Oh yeah?” asked Harry, but suddenly Lupin stood up.

“What exactly have you heard, Mr. Malfoy?” he asked, in a tone that could match Mc
Gonagall's when she caught someone duelling in the halls.

“Who are you to ask, werewolf? I didn't think you actually made a professor this year, there
is too many people around.”

If Draco's words had stung Lupin, he gave no sign of it. Harry, however, felt his temper
start to run through his veins.

“Stuff it, would you?” he snarled, and Draco cocked his head.

“Just remember I warned you Potty,” Draco smirked, and left. Harry sighed and stared out of the
window again, like Parvati had done all the time. He had no idea that in a few weeks time, he'd
wish that he knew exactly what Malfoy was talking about.

-

Ron and Hermione joined them after ten minutes, Ron more acid looking than ever. However, when
Harry glanced over at him, Ron looked away, instead of glaring hatefully at him, like he had used
to so far since the fight.

Harry wondered what Hermione had told him, and gave her a confused look. She gave a small smile
in return, however, she seemed to be moody too.

“Malfoy came over,” said Ginny, starting a conversation.

“When hasn't he?” asked Ron boringly. “What did the Ferret want this time?”

Ginny explained.

“Well, that was a new one,” said Ron sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Hermione looked
uncertain.

“But what if he has a point? What if Voldemort or somebody else has made some new plans this
year to get to Harry?”

“Hermione, they're always after him,” said Ron, and Harry agreed.

“Nevertheless, you should be extra careful this year, Harry,” said Lupin matter-of-factly,
glancing at Harry. Ginny seemed to shrink deeper down in her seat.

“I'm always careful!” said Harry, but nobody seemed to believed him. “Besides,” he
continued, “I'm not the one who finds trouble, it's the trouble that finds me!”

Nobody seemed to want to argue with him on that matter.

Harry took his hand in his pocket, gripping around the egg like he had done so many times
already, wondering if he should tell anybody about it.

He decided not to, he liked having something for himself.

-

Soon they were outside on the platform, waving at the beaming Hagrid as they walked towards the
carriages pulled by Thestrals. Harry unwillingly shuddered at the sight of them. They made him
remember-

“Harry!” somebody yelled behind him, and Harry turned around to see who it was.

Cho.

Harry had expected his stomach to do a weird lurch, but felt nothing.

“Hi Cho,” answered Harry, still weary.

“Can I talk to you?” asked Cho, studying him pleadingly.

“Er… sure,” said Harry, and took a step to follow her, but Tonks grabbed his arm.

“Are you sure this is safe, Harry?” asked Tonks. “I can come just in case-“

“I can take care of myself. Don't worry, I'll be close by,” snapped Harry, and Tonks
released him.

Normally, Harry would rather face a Hungarian Horntail than be alone with Cho, but now it was
different somehow.

“Over here,” said Cho and took his right hand, pulling him towards an empty carriage.
Harry arched an eyebrow; he had expected this to be quick. For the first time that evening he began
to be nervous. Sure she didn't want them to get back together?

Without thinking he stopped abruptly in front of the Thestral that was pulling their wagon, and
stroke it carefully with his left hand, the one Cho wasn't holding. The Thestral turned
it's head and stared at him with blank, empty eyes. Harry bit his lip in order to not do
anything emotional, and took a step back.

“Sorry about that,” he said to Cho, who interestedly had watched the scene with slightly round
eyes. Sighing silently Harry followed her into the wagon, and closed the door. Shortly after they
began to roll forward.

Harry turned to face her. “So, what did you want to say?”

Cho suddenly looked very nervous, and began to twin her fingers. “Uh, I just wanted to say that
I'm sorry for what happened last year. I wasn't ready for a relationship, and I was
emotional all over the place… I'm sorry.”

“It's alright,” Harry reassured her. “I'm the one who should apologize, I wasn't
exactly sensitive.”

Cho smiled. “I guess we were both messing it up then.”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled, and they both grew silent for a while.

“Do you- do you think that we could make it better -if we tried again?” asked Cho silently,
startling Harry out of his thoughts.

“What about Roger?” asked Harry, again without thinking.

“Oh… That didn't work,” said Cho quickly, and then blushed. “He didn't like that I just
kept talking about you.”

Harry did his very best not to gape at her. “Oh, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be… I don't think that we could've worked it out anyway.” She paused. “So…
er… do you?”

Harry studied her for a moment. She was still beautiful, with her long, smooth, black hair and
deer-eyes, and it would certainly help him to keep his thought of another female, but he
couldn't imagine himself being with her anymore. His life didn't need to be more messed up
than necessary.

“I don't think so,” Harry finally answered, and hung his head in dishonor. “I'm sorry,
but a lot of thing has happened the last months. I just don't think it would be the same.”

“Oh, I see, that's okay,” said Cho, also looking down. “But can I ask you one thing though?
It's kind of rude… Actually, there are two things I'd like to ask-“

“Just ask Cho.”

“Er, okay… Is it because of Hermione? I saw The Daily Prophet-”

“No,” Harry interrupted, his heart skipping a beat.

“Okay- er- did you ever like me? For real, I mean?”

“Yeah, ever since our first match in third grade,” said Harry, and now it was his turn to
blush.

“Oh…” said Cho; her eyes round with surprise. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Wow…” said Cho in astonishment, and seemed to cheer up a bit.

“Friends?” asked Harry.

“Friends.”

-

The rest of the ride went well, and Harry actually found himself enjoying her company now as
they had cleared things up a bit.

He was glad he had been honest with her.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Parvati had taken another compartment, and were waiting for them when
they got out.

“Sure you have enough girls with you, Ron?” Harry teased.

Ron turned deep red and was about to answer, then obviously remembered he was supposed to be mad
at Harry, because no sound came out, and he avoided Harry's look. Cho used that moment to say
goodbye, and went over to her friends.

“So, what happened between you and Cho?” asked Ginny, in a fake, cheery tone. Harry also noticed
that Hermione seemed to stiffen up a bit, but he ignored that.

“Nothing,” answered Harry honestly.

“Right,” Ron snorted. Hermione and Parvati just looked down on the ground, saying nothing.

“I'm serious!” said Harry. “I told her I was not interested anymore!”

“Oh,” said Ginny, and blushed slightly. “Sorry.”

Harry smiled. “No bother. Shall we go then?”

-

Hogwarts hadn't yet loosed its charm, and Harry felt warm at the feeling of finally being
back. It was a weird thought that in two years he wouldn't go back. Not as a student
anyway.

Harry didn't really pay any attention to the Sorting or to Dumbledore's tale about the
return of Voldemort, and soon they were actually eating and talking, even Harry.

Hermione didn't seem so cheerful though, and that began to worry Harry after a while. She
only answered `yes' or `no' questions, and didn't even say something when Seamus
brought up that the House Elves still knew how to cook, or when Neville mentioned for the tenth
time that he had sheared a compartment with Luna, and everybody began to tease him.

Harry glanced over at Parvati beside him, and, sure enough, she wasn't eating anything, nor
was she talking or laughing. Even Lavender, Parvati's best friend, seemed oddly withdrawn, and
didn't try to talk to her.

“You got to eat something,” said Harry firmly, and pushed the plate towards her. Parvati
shuddered and hesitantly put some food into her mouth, the fork shivering.

“That's my girl,” said Harry happily, and turned his attention again to what Ron was saying
about the Chudley Cannons. He sure had a lot on his plate.

-

When they walked to the Common room Hermione still hadn't cheered up, and Harry was both
more annoyed and concerned about her than ever. Just as Ron, Parvati and Ginny disappeared behind
the Fat Lady, (the password was `phoenix') Harry almost held Hermione back to ask her what was
wrong, but decided to drop it in the last second.

Maybe she would get better in the morning.

Hermione glanced uncertainly at him for a moment, as if she sensed what Harry had been thinking.
He smiled innocently at her, and they both went in.

The Gryffindor common room looked exactly like Harry had remembered it, and he sighed with pure
comfort. He kicked himself mentally when he remembered that he hadn't wanted to go back a
couple of days ago in the first place. What was he even thinking? This was where he belonged. This
was the place he could call home.

*-*

**A/N:** I want more than six reviews to continue this story, I hope you understand that.
Keep that in mind before you move on without reviewing would you? I can tell most of you (we're
talking about 97-98 per cent here) don't bother. If you don't like the story that's
fine, but you could at least tell me why. Thanks to all of you that actually did review the last
chapter, as always I appreciate it.

-->



12. McClaggan
-------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me...

-

Ch12: **Mc****CLAGGAN**

When Harry went to bed that night, his head was swirling madly with thoughts of everything that
had happened to him in his life. Everything he had lost and the things he had experienced. He felt
guilty though, because he hadn't thought so much about Sirius lately.

Harry wished he could turn back the time to the end of third year. If he just could've
captured Wormtail, none of that would've happen. Nobody would be dead, and Voldemort would
still be hiding somewhere, waiting. Still alive, but gone all the same.

Harry now knew that the decision he had made in the Shrieking Shack was the most important
decision he had made so far in his life, and he had messed it up badly. He would never do that
mistake again.

Harry turned around and somehow drifted off to sleep. He had forgotten all about Occlumency.

* * *

*They were standing in a dark room. Around them there were high, grey walls, without any
windows. Only a small lamp in the roof lightened the room up. Harry could see a cage against one of
the walls, behind Wormtail, who was on his knees?*

*“Is it all set, my Lord?” asked Pettigrew, with a thin, squeaky voice.*

*“Soon Pettigrew. We still need more time.”*

*“How long, Master?”*

*“Not long, patience, Pettigrew. Now, do you know* *exactly* *what to do?”*

*“Yes, my Lord.”*

*Harry laughed. “That old, Muggle-loving fool won't know what hit him! The plan is*
*perfect**!”*

*“Yes, my Lord.”*

*“Now, go someplace until I need you,” said Harry and dismissed Pettigrew with a wave of his
hand. Wormtail left the room so fast that it looked like he had apparated.*

*Harry turned around - his heavy coat swirling around him - and faced a mirror, which stood
beside a large chair. Harry's reflection showed him a pair of red, evil eyes in an almost white
skull, with two slits as nostrils. Some inner part of Harry twisted.*

*“Yes, Potter.” He sneered, “That's right. Soon.”*

* * *

Harry opened his eyes with a start. Quickly he turned around in the bed and vomited on the
floor.

“That's disgusting.” Ron said from the bed beside him. Harry was about to answer when his
scar suddenly gave a jolt of pain trough him.

“Argh! Stop it!” moaned Harry, clutching both of his hands over the scar on his forehead.

“Stop what?”

“Not you!” Harry gasped. “Him!”

“Oh,” said Ron and fell silent.

Harry grabbed his wand and vanished the vomit with an `Evanesco,' then he rolled back to his
bed and stared up in the ceiling.

“I hate this!” Harry blurted out after a while, but then he heard snoring beside him. Ron had
felled asleep again.

-

-

When Harry got up from bed that morning, he felt like he hadn't slept at all. His head was
heavy, and he felt oddly disorientated. Harry cursed himself for not practicing Occlumency.

Hermione, who was waiting for Harry and Ron to come down, frowned when she saw him

“What have you-“ she began, but Harry interrupted her:

“Don't ask,” he said, but saw Ron gave Hermione an `I'll tell you later' look out of
the corner of his eye. He could have cared less though. He was much more interested in figuring out
what his vision meant. Something told him it was important.

“What classes are you taking this year?” Ron asked Hermione.

“I'm taking, Runes, Arithmancy, Defense, Charms, Transfiguration and Potions.”

“What, you don't take `Care Of Magical Creatures' this year?” asked Harry, perplexed.
Hermione hung her head.

“No. I would need a Time Turner again if I did, and I don't think I'm up to that
again.”

“Oh,” said Harry. “What about you, Ron?”

“I'm taking Defense, Charms and Care Of Magical Creatures,” Ron answered, without looking at
him.

“Why don't you take Potion? Or Transfiguration?” asked Hermione, stealing Harry's words
out of his mouth. “I thought you wanted to be an Auror!”

Ron shrugged. “Nah, after what happened in the… er… Ministry of Magic last year, I figured that
I wanted something more than chasing bad guys and be a slave for the Ministry.”

Harry struggled hard to keep a normal face; it felt like someone had slapped him. He remembered
all to well what had happened last year, but not that it had affected Ron so much. Again Harry was
the one to blame.

“I'm sorry,” said Harry and hung his head. Suddenly he didn't want to be around them
anymore, he wanted to be alone.

He slowed down and hoped that Hermione or Ron wouldn't notice and just continue along.
However, Hermione did notice, and wouldn't let Harry do such a thing.

“Come on, Harry!” she said and dragged his arm. “What's going on? Tell us!”

“He saw something from You-Know-Who again,” explained Ron. A moment Harry was afraid that Ron
would mention the vomiting, but luckily he didn't. Harry gave him a look.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “What kind of sight? Was it a vision?”

“Yeah, kind off,” said Harry. “He's up to something.”

“Shocker!” said Ron sarcastically, pretending to be surprised, but when Hermione gave him a look
he cleared his throat and asked: “What did you see?”

“Er… We were standing in some kind off dark room, without windows… Wormtail was there, standing
in front of some cage. He and I - er, Voldemort - were talking. I don't remember exactly what
they said, but they said something about a plan they've been working on, and that it was ready
soon… Oh!” Harry added, “It's got something to do with Dumbledore!”

Hermione's eyes widened. “Odd,” she said, “It always uses to be you.”

“Yeah!” Ron voted in. “Maybe they're gonna use Harry to get to Dumbledore or something?”

“Could be,” said Harry, trying hard to sound casual, “I wouldn't be surprised. It's
always about me, isn't it?”

He couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but Ron and Hermione seemed to
understand.

“I don't think they would be able to get to you, Harry. You are very well protected, better
than you think.”

They reached the Great Hall for breakfast, and Ginny waved them over.

“Hey you three!” she said, “The classes begin soon! Why are you so late?”

Ron explained, and Ginny's reaction was quite similar to Hermione's.

“You're sure that one was real?” she asked, twinning her hair between her fingers. “It
wasn't fake, like last time?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “It seemed to be real enough. But Voldemort knew I was there, he
talked to me.”

Ron choked his drink, and Hermione and Ginny gasped.

“You didn't tell us that!” exclaimed Hermione. Harry smiled apolitically.

“I didn't think it was important,” he said.

“What did he say?” asked Ginny, before Ron could. She had gone very pale, Harry noticed, and her
freckles stood out more clearly than usual.

“Er… he said…” Harry had to think for a moment before he remembered. “He said: That's right,
Potter. Soon.”

Nobody said anything for a long time, but suddenly Ginny yelled out: “The time! We're
late!”

That was true... The classes started five minutes ago, and they were the only students left in
the Great Hall.

Hermione cried out and jolted up from the seat. “Oh my God! You're right! We got to hurry!
Oh no! The first day and everything! I can't believe it!”

Luckily, Ron and Harry's first lesson was `Care of Magical Creatures,' and Hagrid
wasn't exactly very severe. Hermione, however, had Arithmancy; her favorite subject. Harry
honestly didn't think she would get in trouble if she was late one or another day, she was the
best student in the class after all.

Harry and Ron ran outside to where Hagrid kept his lesson as fast as they could, and made it
only ten minutes late. However, the class hadn't even settled down yet, and most of the
students were chatting loudly with each other. They both sighed with relief, Ron a little out of
breath.

Harry spotted Parvati, and went over to her, Ron following closely behind him.

“Come on!” urged Harry, and they sat down exactly when Hagrid clapped his hands together,
signalising that the class had begun.

“Ello, everyone!” he said and beamed. “How are you doin' eh?”

Nobody answered. Harry suspected that at least half of them only took that class because it was
considered to be easy to get good grades in.

“Had a good summer?” Hagrid tried again.

This time there was some `yes' and some `no,' but most of the class were silent, like
Harry, Ron and Parvati were.

“Right then!” said Hagrid, “Today we're studyin' a very special creature. They're
called Demiguises. Can somebody tell us sometin' abou' `em?”

Nobody answered this time either. Harry suspected that without Hermione the classes would be
like that, and suddenly wished she sat beside him as usual.

“Er… right,” said Hagrid, and looked a bit uncomfortable before he collected himself again.
Harry shifted boringly on the ground.

“Demiguises are some very interestin' creatures indeed, they `ave the ability to turn
invisible. They enjoy spyin' on people and stealin' their sweets. They can remin' you
of a white monkey when you see `em. A demiguise is usually white, and their fur is often used in
invisibility cloaks.

“So, any questions?” asked Hagrid, and beamed when nobody seemed to have any. Then he clasped
his hands enthusiastically together, and said: “Come on then, follow me!”

All the pupils got up, stretching their legs, but stopped when they saw that Hagrid was heading
towards the Forbidden forest. Ron gave Harry a worried look, but Harry ignored him. He didn't
care much, but he didn't like the thought of meeting Aragog, the Centaurs, or Grawp for that
matter, too soon.

However, when they reached the front of the first trees, Hagrid turned left and guided them
towards a small paddock instead. The class sighed with relief.

Harry peeked curiously over the fence, but didn't see anything. Confused, he turned with
raised eyebrows at Hagrid, waiting for an explanation.

“Where is it, Hagrid?” asked Harry, when Hagrid gave no further signs of given them an
explanation.

“Righ' there...” said the half-giant, and clasped an oversized hand on Harry's shoulder.
However, this time Harry didn't find it that hard to stay on his feet as he had before. “...in
the paddock,” Hagrid finished. Harry looked again, but still saw nothing. Getting more impatient,
he turned, once again about to say something, but Hagrid beat him to it.

“The Demiguises, like I said, `ave the power to turn invisible. That's why you don't see
`em, Arry.”

“Oh,” said Harry and blushed, realizing that the whole class had been watching him with highly
amused looks.

“Does anybody know what we can do to see `em?” said Hagrid, continuing the lesson.

Harry thought hard, but couldn't find any solution to the problem. Once again, he found
himself wondering what Hermione would've said. Ron appeared to be thinking the same thing; he
kept looking around him, as if he had to make sure that Hermione wouldn't suddenly appear and
answer the question.

Everybody, like Harry, just shook their heads again, and were watching Hagrid expectantly, some
a little frightened.

“You ask `em of course'!” exclaimed Hagrid, as if this should be obvious. Some of the
students snickered under their breaths. “Ah, Ron!” Why don't you try?”

“Huh?” said Ron, his head snapping up. “Oh, right…” He cleared his throat soundly, and asked:
“Er… Can you show yourself?”

For a moment nothing happened, and Harry was sure that it hadn't worked. But then, out of
thin air, a white, weird, but elegant looking monkey appeared. However, it wasn't a monkey, but
a Demiguise. Everyone gasped, even Parvati, who, as usual, had been quiet the whole time.

“Wicked!” said Ron, grinning, and the Demiguise turned its head and looking at him, then at
Harry. Suddenly Harry felt a weird jump of recognition. Had he seen that creature before?

He stared intently at it for a long time, and was mystified by how the creature's eyes were
twinkling, as if to tease him. Hey! Harry thought. He had seen that twinkling before!

He shook his head, disbelievingly. It couldn't be Dumbledore… or could it?

Harry looked again, and the Demiguise stared back at him, as if willing him to see. Suddenly
Harry remembered something Dumbledore had said, years ago… I don't need an invisibility cloak
to turn myself invisible.

Demiguises could turn themselves invisible… they enjoyed sweets...

“Can Demiguises see through invisibility cloaks?” asked Harry excitedly.

“O' course!” said Hagrid his smile widening. Harry grinned back, and turned to the creature
again.

Dumbledore? He mouthed silently, and the creature nodded slightly in return. Harry couldn't
help it, and fell into a hysteric laugher, holding his stomach as he gasped for breath. Everyone in
the class stared at him stupidly, but Harry didn't care. So Dumbledore was an Animagus! And a
monkey no less!

Harry couldn't help but think that it suited Dumbledore perfectly, and the thought made him
laugh even harder.

-

-

Next class was Defence Against the Dark Arts Ron, Parvati and Harry met Hermione outside the
classroom before the class began, and she looked vaguely at them. She, too, was worried about who
the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was going to be that year. Lupin seemed to be the
only teacher that actually had wanted them to learn something, without putting them in a life or
death situation in the process.

Ron told Hermione about their lesson with Hagrid.

“It was really interesting!” explained Ron, waving his arms. “You should've been there!”

“I'm sure it was, Ron,” said Hermione. Harry suddenly realized she looked very tired, and
her hair was all bushy again. He wondered what was wrong.

“We had about Demiguises!” continued Ron. “And Hagrid actually seemed to know what he was
talking about!”

Hermione frowned. “I've read about those…”

“Do you know Dumbledore's one?” Harry added in. That comment captured their attention right
away, even from Parvati.

Ron whirled around at him. “How do you know? Why haven't you told us before?”

Harry shrugged. “I didn't know until that lesson. I'm telling you, Dumbledore was that
creature!”

Hermione, however, didn't seem to like that thought at all. “But I checked! In third grade,
remember? I should've seen…”

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly the door to the classroom opened, and people
started to go in. Harry noticed that there were many students that had chosen Defence Against the
Dark Arts that year.

When they walked in, and saw a small, but powerful looking man in the front.

“Hello, please take your seats,” the man said. “I am Professor McClaggan.”

Everybody seemed to be studying him for a moment; as if they wanted to make sure of that he
could be trusted. McClaggan was a strange looking man, Harry decided. He was small, but gracious.
He looked like he had been through a lot, but instead of looking tired; he had a very powerful and
confident look behind his spectacles.

Professor McClaggan slowly turned his head and stared at Harry for a moment; his piercing gaze
chilling Harry for some reason. Harry, however, didn't let this affect his appearance, and
stared, somewhat expectantly, back.

Harry could easily tell that McClaggan had recognised him the second he had opened the door.

“Sit down,” commanded McClaggan, and everybody sat down obediently. Hermione sat down quickly in
one of the front desks, and gave Harry and Ron a look that meant they better follow her.

McClaggan cleared his throat and everybody was silent in a heartbeat.

“I see,” McClaggan began, “that you are all awfully behind the curriculum. However, somehow many
of you managed to get at least Exceed Expectations in your OWLs. Whatever you did last year,”
(Harry could've sworn that he saw McClaggan's eyes flicker towards where he was sitting for
a second) “it should be continued. Anyway, this year we are not wasting any time. We have a war in
front of us, and I dare say that you will need everything you can learn... It could be a matter of
life or death. So, pair up in groups with four. Quickly!”

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Parvati ended, naturally, up in the same group, and Harry was surprised
to see how aware Parvati looked, like she really wanted to do good.

Draco winked at Harry from the other end of the classroom, and Harry frowned. He had to remember
to watch his back for Malfoy this year.

“Today,” McClaggan continued when he saw that everybody had paired up, “we are working on a
curse called `Impedimenta'. Can anybody tell the class what the curse is good for?”

Harry's shoulders sank in disappointment. He had hoped they would be learning something new.
Nearly two thirds of the class raised their hands, and Harry was pleased to tell that nearly all of
them had belonged to the DA last year. He couldn't help but smile, and looked over at Hermione.
She met his gaze and grinned back at him, she had noticed it too. Her smile left a herd of
butterflies in his stomach, and he quickly turned his eyes away, a bit scared of himself.

“Yes?” said McClaggan, looking at Ron, who paled.

“Er… you slow down an attacker?”

“Quite right,” said McClaggan, and started to tell them more of what the Impediment course could
do and in what situations you should use them. “Who have used it before?”

Just half the students that had raised their hands on the last question raised their hands on
this one. Harry, however, raised his hand up, almost lazily.

“Ah, Mister Potter…” said McClaggan slyly, drawing Harry's attention. “Why don't you
come up here and show us?”

“Yes, sir,” said Harry, fully on guard now. He didn't trust McClaggan, and he had a strong
feeling that him showing the Impediment curse wasn't all McClaggan wanted from him.

Harry nervously went up in front of the class, and pointed his wand at McClaggan.

The professor smirked. “Let's see how good young Mister Potter here can do, he hasn't
survived Voldemort a number of times if he isn't good for something, right?”

Harry shot McClaggan an angry look, heat flushing up in his face. He instantly felt a new jerk
in his arm, but there was no time to think about that now…

“Impedimenta!” Harry shouted, and a jet of red light shot from his wand. However, McClaggan
immediately put up a shield, and the curse went straight back at Harry. Harry had barely time to
jump to the side to dodge it.

Harry hesitated. Was he supposed to duel?

McClaggan seemed to notice Harry's hesitation, and quickly disarmed him with
`Expelliarmus.'

“First rule in duelling,” lectured McClaggan, “is to not lose attention!”

It was a good thing Harry didn't have his wand that very moment; he was so angry that he
could curse McClaggan into the next year. It didn't matter if it had to be an Unforgivable, he
just wanted…

Suddenly his scar and arm jerked violently at the same time, and Harry yelped. No, no, no… he
thought, as it went up for him, like somebody had just hit his head with something. He had only
felt the jerk in his arm when he was angry… When he was (almost) capable of using one of the
three…he remembered something he had read in `All About the Unforgivables': The effects of this
can be compared to as Muggle drugs, which can also make you addicted, only here it is to the
feeling of killing…

Harry felt like he could throw up again, and he was the first one out of the classroom when the
class was dismissed.

“Hey, Potter!” said Draco Malfoy, catching up with him, Ron and Hermione right behind.
“What's up with you? Are you angry because everyone saw how miserable you did in duelling and
how pathetic you really are? Are you-“

Harry turned around so fast that Draco almost tripped over in surprise.

“CRU-“ Harry started furiously, but stopped himself just in time. He stared back and forth from
Draco, Hermione and Ron's alarmed eyes for a moment, before he turned around again and ran as
fast as he could into the Forbidden forest.

Tears stung behind his eyes as he ran, and for the first time he wondered what he was turning
into.

-

This chapter is up early because many more (close to 10 per cent) of you actually took pity in
me and reviewed the last chapter. It's greatly appreciated, don't forget that.

Cheers!

-->



13. The Threat
--------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

-

Ch13: **THE THREAT**

Harry kept running as fast as he could until he was in the middle of the forest, all the while
ignoring Hermione's calls after him. It was a weird thing; the forest was so full of trees
everywhere, still in the middle he saw a clearing. At some point he had been afraid than he had ran
into Grawp, but luckily he managed to dodge the giant. He decided to stop and catch his breath for
a moment. He rested his hands on his knees and sighed.

Now that Harry had stopped running, he noticed how cold it really was. The sun, soon to go down,
offered little warmth and sent a ghostly look over the place. He shuddered violently as he failed
in not to think too much about what had just happened. It had been so close.

Words from `All About The Unforgivables' kept spinning around in his mind, clear as the
day:

*`**When the caster puts so much emotion in the curse as he or she would have to do for
the curse to work properly, it is not without a prize.* *Not only will the caster risk a
life-sentence in Azkaban, the Wizard Prison guarded by Dementors, but the caster's soul will
also be affected.* *The soul will* *be forever marked, depending on how* **much**
*the caster enjoyed it...'*

Harry felt like hitting something, anything…

*`**The feeling of power is addict able, and the caster would in most cases feel strongly
tempted to use an Unforgivable again in the future. If recently used, it will have an effect on
Dark Detectors,* *-`*

Suddenly Harry heard a `*crack*' behind him, like the sound of a stick being broken,
and immediately he had his wand out; pointing at where the sound had came from.

“Harry?”

The voice was familiar to him and with a jolt he realized it belonged to Hermione. He quickly
lowered his wand. “Hermione?”

“Yeah…” she panted, “Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, but when you just-“

“It's okay,” he quickly reassured her, not really knowing if he was happy or disappointed
that she had followed him. “How did you find me?”

“I used a Tracking charm…” she said and stepped closer to him, reaching out for his hand. He
suddenly felt nervous and a new chill went down his spine.

“Harry…” she said. “What happened?”

He looked down, wondering what he should say... could she handle the truth? She deserved it,
certainly. Besides, if she didn't like it, she could just go and leave him alone. Harry took a
deep breath, and said:

“I wanted to curse Malfoy. With the Cruciatus.”

“Harry, that's-“

“-An Unforgivable, I know. But I've studied it a bit over the summer - because you know -
that Prophecy... I've got to...”

Hermione nodded hesitantly, looking dead serious as though she felt sorry for him.

“And Voldemort,” Harry continued, “has - as I'm sure you know - given me visions… and when
he does, it feels like I'm him… I do the same things as him… and then…”

He stopped then; because a huge ball had created itself in his throat, making it hard to
talk.

“Go on,” Hermione prodded, stepping even closer to him.

“Right… so, as I was saying, one night I forgot to put my wand away. I got a new vision - of
Voldemort killing the Patils' - and when he used the Killing curse, -I -I used it too.
That's why there's a huge hole on the wall in my bedroom. Then, I lost my temper at Mrs.
Black, and-“

“Hang on!” said Hermione suddenly, holding up a hand. Harry had never seen her eyes so big as
they were now, as she tried understand and get the control over the situation.

“Are you saying that you used The Killing curse ON MRS. BLACK?!”

“Guilty...”

“*Harry!”*

“I'm sorry Hermione, I didn't mean too, I really didn't… however, since then
I've been feeling… tempted, sort of, to use it again. *Not* because I really want to, but
because of the power you feel when you use it. It's, er… certain after-affects, you could
say.”

Harry stopped and waited for Hermione to say something.

“You hate me now, don't you?” he finally asked when she didn't.

“Of course not...” she said, looking pensive. “Harry, you're my best friend, and I
couldn't dream-“

“But you're dating Ron!” said Harry, almost accusingly, and as he said it he instantly
regretted it. Not only did his gut hurt at the mere thought of it, now he felt guilty as well. He
stepped a little back from her, ashamed. Hermione, however, raised her eyebrows.

“No I don't.”

“Yes, you do!” said Harry stubbornly.

“No, I'm *not*! I've never said that!”

Now it was his turn to not know what to say. “But… you, I saw- you were-!“

Hermione sighed, and lowered her gaze. A small string of hair fell in front of her face, and she
impatiently brushed it away. “I never dated Ron, nor do I want to… it's not going to work; it
would just ruin our friendship. We don't go along that well, really.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” said Harry, even though he was not sorry at all. On the other hand, he felt
as though a huge weight had been lifted of his shoulders.

She frowned slightly, as though she sensed this, something she probably did. “Harry,” she said,
“I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

Harry was surprised. “I know. I haven't told the Prophecy to anybody but you.”

She took his other hand and squeezed it gently.

“I don't want to die…” he confessed, “but there's worse things than death. People living
in torture and in pain, friendless and alone… *that's* worse than death. Voldemort
doesn't know, he-“

Suddenly Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around him and hugged him desperately. A small sob
escaped her. However, Harry was so surprised that he lost his balance and both of them fell to the
ground.

He grinned up at her apolitically, but suddenly Hermione's lips covered his, and his eyes
fluttered shut.

If he hadn't been breathless before he was now. At first, the kiss was slow, careful and
hesitant, but soon both of them became more desperate for each other and the kiss deepened. Somehow
Harry managed to free his left hand, and took it on the back of her head, pushing her to him. He
wanted to feel her, taste her, memorize her... he didn't know of he would get another chance
and wanted to make the most of it.

The kiss seemed to sharpen his senses somehow. He could feel the wind against his skin, he could
hear the leaves it brought around in circles, he could smell the grass and the bushes around
them... however, most of all he felt stronger; as though Hermione had given some of her energy to
him. He couldn't remember feeling anything like it. So utterly complete.

He had no idea for how long the kiss lasted, but when it ended he could do nothing but stare at
her; unblinking. Hermione breathed hard, but a smile played in the corner of her lips. He grinned
up at her slowly; the last thing he wanted was for something to ruin the moment. Honestly he
didn't thought anything could, but the risk wasn't worth taken.

Somehow he knew that if he ended up alone, friendless and in pain, he would remember that
moment. He always would, and he also knew that the memory would comfort him.

“Hermione,” he said softly and she looked down at him, her eyes full of complete and sincere
trust.

“What?”

“If Voldemort ever gets you… give him the Prophecy. I don't care, I can't lose you, no
matter what.”

Hermione hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded. “Alright, but then you have to promise me
something: if Voldemort ever gets me, *and* kill me or hurt me in any way… Promise me that you
won't blame yourself and do something stupid.”

“You know I can't promise *that*!” said Harry, horrified.

“Then you got no deal, Potter,” she said smugly and leaned closer to him again, their noses
almost touching. Merlin did she know him.

“I'll do my best,” he whispered hoarsely and touched her cheek. “Please?”

Hermione nodded and Harry pressed her to him again, so they laid beside each other, listening to
the wind, nature and each other's breathing.

-

They laid there for a very long time. It had been late afternoon when they got there, and now
the night was creeping in on them and stars had began to appear on the sky. Harry looked up and saw
that the sky was almost clear for clouds now, making the stars shine brighter than he could
remember them doing ever before. He guessed it had something to do with them being in the middle of
the forest, without any lights.

There was one particular star that caught his attention, and he remembered something from
Astronomy…

“Sirius,” said Harry aloud and Hermione followed his look up at the sky.

“Yeah,” she said, “maybe he's looking?”

He thought that was unlikely, but instead of disagreeing, he said: “I hope he's happy...
-wherever he is.”

“Right now I think he would be laughing at us,” she said softly and both of them laughed. Harry
suddenly realized that this was the first time he had thought about Sirius, without feeling sad or
angry.

-

-

The next morning Harry woke up yet again visions about Voldemort killing families, but for once
he didn't care much. It felt as though he was carrying a bubble of joy and excitement in his
stomach and there was nothing Voldemort could do to ruin it... or so he thought.

Harry still didn't have a clue about what was going on between him and Hermione, and he was
afraid he would make a wrong decision and do something stupid, whatever that could be. At the same
time the thought of Hermione (maybe) wanting a boyfriend and girlfriend relationship was something
that scared the hell out of him. He wasn't even sure what he wanted for himself yet; one part
of him wanted to keep her as a friend, but the other part of him definitely wouldn't mind
kissing her again…

He and Hermione had stayed in the forest for many hours, and when they came back they used the
rest of the evening to sit in the armchairs in front of the fire, talking about old days and
non-important things. Ron had already went to bed and there had been few other people in the common
room.

Harry quickly got dressed and went down for breakfast. In the great hall he immediately spotted
Ron and Hermione and sat down between them. He flashed her a mischievous grin and tried to ignore
it when her hand softly brushed against his. Not to mention how smooth her skin looked like and how
good her hair smelled...

She was studying her timetable and Harry forced himself to do the same. Yesterday they had had
three hours with Care Of Magical Creatures, and then three hours with Defense, but today they had
two hours Transfiguration, two hours with Charms and two hours with Potions.

Harry glanced over at Ron and saw that he had a huge grin over his face.

“Hey!” Ron said, “I only got *two hours* with lessons today! Can you believe that? Heh, I
*knew* it was a good idea to take few classes this year!”

Hermione scowled. “Honestly Ron, that's such a waste! What are you going to do with all the
extra time?”

Ron only grinned even wider and faked a wondering, serious look. “Let's see... what do you
do on a ordinary weekend?”

“Don't you want *anything* with your life, Ron?” Hermione shook her head, exasperated.
“You are going to end up poor and without a job!”

“Hey!” said Ron, taking offence and they started their normal bickering. Harry groaned and put
his head between his hands, blocking their voices out.

Their arguing continued while the owls delivered their post. A paper landed in front of
Hermione, and when Ginny saw that they weren't about to quit anytime soon, she snatched it for
herself.

“*You're so annoying!”* Harry heard Ron say, but suddenly he noticed that nearly the
whole Great Hall were quiet, too quiet.

“What's going on?” Harry asked Hermione.

“I'll tell what's going on!” said Hermione, looking hurt, “Ron, he-“

“No,” Harry interrupted. “I mean -why is everyone so quiet?”

The whole hall was indeed quiet now, and all eyes were on them.

Desperately he looked over at Ginny, who looked back at him as though he had just announced that
he was going to join Voldemort.

“What?” he snapped, and she silently gave him Hermione's paper with trembling hands. Harry,
now fully on guard and more than a little uncomfortable, took it and scanned the front page.
Hermione did too and gasped. He, however, could do nothing but stare at the huge, black headline,
saying: **YOU-KNOW-WHO** **THREATEN****S** **THE BOY WHO LIVED****!****'**
and beneath there was a picture of a wall with the words; `**I'LL GET YOU AT
HALLOWEEN****,** **POTTER'** written with something that, disgustedly, looked like
blood.

Harry felt his insides disappear, but other than that he kept his frame. Slowly he passed the
newspaper on to Neville and stared at his plate.

So his life was in danger again.

Nothing happened in several minutes. Harry was determent to not let it show how much the news
had affected him, and kept staring at his plate. He was too aware of the fact that everybody were
looking at him, waiting for a reaction…

Deciding it was best to let the others know that he still lived, he forcing a weak laugh and got
up from the table. Hermione, however, anxiously grabbed his hand and refused to let it go. Ron was
oddly quiet.

“I've dreamed this…” Harry suddenly realized, “I just didn't remember it... They used
the blood of one of the children they killed. Muggle girl, I think she was blonde…”

Hermione suddenly cried out, let go of his hand and ran out from the great hall before Harry
could say another word. He felt sick.

“I better go after her,” he said with a sigh to Ron, who nodded.

“I'll just sit here, if you don't mind.”

Harry nodded and followed Hermione the way she had left with quick steps. Everybody were still -
though not surprisingly - staring at him and some of the Slytherins made whistles and cat-calls
after him.

Immediately when he got past the doors and out of sight, he broke off into a run, hoping he
would catch Hermione before she went too far and out of reach.

Luckily, she had returned to the common room and he found her there, sitting in the coach,
crying. Harry sat down beside her and stroked her hair, unsure what he could do to calm her.

“Please don't cry, please don't cry,” he begged, he couldn't stand it when she did.
Hermione sniffed and forced herself to calm down a little.

“It's so unfair, you know?” she said after a while, when she had calmed down enough to
speak. “Why you? You've been through *so much* already and it's not like you
wouldn't get enough trouble in the future… and it's not just that! I don't want to lose
you! I'm terrified of it! And, if there's anyone who have the right to hide and cry like an
idiot, it's you... not me!”

“You won't lose me,” Harry reassured her, even though he knew that it was a promise he was
most likely to break in the future. “-And you're not an idiot, you're the smartest girl I
know... Hey, it's not like he hasn't threatened me before, you know? He's always been
after me!”

Hermione nodded her head slowly. “But this is different somehow… it looks like he really means
it and thought this through, or he wouldn't have made it public… oh Harry!” she suddenly
exclaimed and clasped her hand in front of her mouth. “Do you think this could've something to
do with your dream? Maybe Ron's right after all?”

“Could be,” said Harry slowly, it made sense to him. “And Malfoy's warning… I should talk to
him.”

“Yeah, just be careful,” she said, and looked at her watch. “We better go to class… Or we'll
be late again.”

“Yeah,” he said reluctantly, glad that Hermione was more normal again. They both got up and he
found the courage to take her hand. Together they went down to McGonagall's lesson.

They met up with Parvati, who had a weird look over her face when she saw them. “So it is true…”
he heard her mutter to herself and Harry smiled. It looked like she, too, was getting more back to
her old self.

Hermione, however, went stiff at her words and Harry suddenly realized what Parvati might had
meant.

McGonagall chose that moment to open the door, and the students went in.

Harry ended up on the front seats again - thanks to Hermione - between her and Parvati.

McGonagall stepped up in the front of the class, but couldn't help but send Harry a few
uneasy looks. She actually looked upset, and the very thought of seeing an upset McGonagall made
Harry even more nervous for some reason.

“This year,” the teacher started, “is going to be tougher than it has been so far. This year,
it's crucial that you pay close attention, because many of the spells we are going to learn are
very difficult and even dangerous. This is one of the most advanced NEWT's classes Hogwarts has
to offer, except perhaps Arithmancy,-“ (Hermione straightened her back a little) “-so if any of you
don't think you can manage this class; get out now and you may still have a chance to take
another.”

McGonagall waited a few seconds before she continued, as if daring the students to get up from
their seats and out of the room. Nobody did, however.

“The first couple of weeks we are going repeat what we have learned so far, and later we'll
work on Animagi and human transfiguration spells.”

Now it was Harry's turn to straighten his back. Would they be told what Animagus form they
would have? That brought him to another question: What would he be? A stag like his father? Harry
sincerely hoped it wouldn't be a Demiguise, because then he would be teased to no end.

Harry's thoughts went back to what had been in '*The Daily Prophet**'*
that morning. What if Voldemort succeeded this time? Harry would have no chance against him…

Some part of him stirred and he felt sick. So far he haven't given it much though, because,
as he had said to Hermione, Voldemort had threatened him before. But what if it was a real,
waterproof plan this time? Could he really take the risk?

Hermione nudged him.

“Huh?” asked Harry and realized that everyone was staring at him. “What?”

“It would be wise to pay attention Potter,” said McGonagall, but she didn't sound very
stern. Harry guessed it was thanks to *The Prophet.*

“A word after class Potter, if you please.”

“Yes ma'am,” said Harry politely. He used the rest of the class to keep his head between his
hands, but at least he was paying attention.

-

The class seemed to drag on and on, but finally the bell rang, and everybody got up from their
seats. Harry noticed that many were shooting him weird looks, some with pity and some with
excitement, as though they expected him to crack under the pressure or something. He had an uneasy
feeling if they continued like that, as well as the teachers, he would.

McGonagall waited patiently until everybody had gone out of the classroom - including Hermione -
and closed the door.

“Harry,” she said, and Harry widened his eyes at the sound of his front name. “Have you read The
Daily Prophet this morning?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“How are you feeling?” asked McGonagall softly and Harry couldn't help but to think that
this was very out of character from her.

“Fine, I guess. It's real, I suppose? They're not just saying that to - you know - make
a trap?”

McGonagall seemed to be considering this for a moment, but shook her head.

“We have every reasons to believe this is real and besides, we can not take the chance of losing
you. You are very important to the Wizarding society and if you disappeared it will cause great
panic.”

Harry looked down, realizing he was nothing but a pawn. “So it is.”

“Do you want to speak with Albus?”

“Albus?” wondered Harry for a slight moment, but realized she had to be talking about
Dumbledore. “Rather not if you don't mind... can I go now? We got Charms and I don't want
to be late.”

“One more thing,” said McGonagall and moved behind her desk. “I would be honored if you want to
be Quidditch captain this year, your silly ban is lifted of course.”

Harry's first reaction was to shout *`yes**!*', but then the good feeling
disappeared like water between his hands. He didn't have the time. This year, at least until
Halloween, he would be forced to work harder than he had ever done before. He also realized that
the team would be better off without him if he got caught.

“I don't think I can play at all this year, professor,” mumbled Harry, looking down. It was
a very difficult thing to say and he didn't like it.

“Nonsense,” said McGonagall with a wave of her hand, “You are not going to do that to yourself,
I do not allow it.”

“But, professor, if Vol-“

“*If* -” McGonagall interrupted before Harry had the chance to finish the name - “he gets
you, we will deal with it then. You can not put your life aside just because of a stupid
threat.”

Harry hesitated. He didn't *want* to quit Quidditch if he didn't have to, but there
was absolutely no way he had the time to be a captain, no matter how much he wanted it. He voiced
his opinion to the professor, and added that Ron could at least twice as much as he did about
Quidditch and would be the best for the role.

McGonagall studied him for a moment and nodded. “I will consider it, I dare say that you have
enough on your plate already.”

Harry nodded back, but felt a bit sad nevertheless. It would have been fun to be a captain…

Absentmindedly, he took one hand in his pocket, gripping around the egg that he still carried
around wherever he went. It seemed to give him some kind of comfort he couldn't quite explain.
“I need to go,” he said to McGonagall. “but thanks for the offer. I'm glad you asked me.”

She gave him one of her rear smiles. “Be careful,” she said, and Harry turned and quickly walked
to charms.

-

Hermione had been waiting for him outside the classroom, and wanted to know what the meeting had
been about at once.

“She was wondering how I was doing… and asked if I wanted to be Quidditch captain.”

Hermione squealed, and gave him a chest-breaking hug. “Congratulations! I *knew* you would
make it!” She let go off him and blushed. “You're going to be a wonderful captain.”

“Maybe I would,” said Harry. “But I turned the offer down.”

“*What?**”*

He sighed. “Do you really think I would have the time? With Voldemort and everything? I have to
work harder than I've ever done before!”

Hermione gave him an odd look. “Yeah, I suppose…”

“Hi!” Ron greeted them. “Ready for charms? I feel *so* relaxed and refreshed you can't
even imagine!”

“You could've used your extra time to study you know!” said Hermione with a huff.

“Nah, why bother? I'll pass anyway with the easy subjects I'm taking,” said Ron smugly
and Harry rolled his eyes. Hermione scowled.

“*Ronald Weasley-!”*

Harry quickly toned them out as they yet again went on with their old bickering. Suddenly he
spotted Draco down the hall.

“I better go and talk to the Ferret boy.”

Hermione gave up her bickering with Ron and turned to give Harry a new hug and a peek on his
cheek.

“Be careful and don't let him get to you.”

“Don't worry, he won't,” Harry promised and went after the Slytherin, wishing he could
stay in Hermione's arms forever.

-->



14. Draco's Deal
----------------



Yeah, I know I haven't updated Ronald Weasley and the Subtle Knife for a while and I'm
really sorry. I don't know why it's so hard to write, but it is. I hate Writer's
Block!! Anyway, enjoy this chapter and take notice of the Author's Note in the end.

-

Ch14: **DRACO'S DEAL**

Harry didn't have to run far to catch up with Draco Malfoy, but what was surprising Harry
the most was that Draco was alone without his usual two goons. Harry smirked.

“Where are your buddies?”

Draco glared back. “Like you care. You only hang around that Weasel and Mudblood girl.”

Harry scowled; his temper already surfacing. “Don't call her that!”

Draco smiled teasingly, “Got the hots for her or something?”

“Like I would tell you!” hissed Harry.

“Then I won't talk to you,” the blond said with a smirk. Harry suddenly realized that this
wasn't going too well.

“Wait,” he said, hesitating only a moment before continuing, “what do you know about The Dark
Lords threat?”

Draco, who had been on the verge of walking away, froze abruptly. He turned and looked at Harry
closely like he had never seen him before, curiosity shining through his grey eyes. For a moment
Harry thought he wasn't going to say anything at all, but then the Slytherin said: “What would
I get if I tell you?”

Harry stared; he hadn't considered that... “I dunno. What do you want?”

He couldn't believe he was bargaining with a Malfoy.

“I want to join the DA. That's what you call it, right?”

“*What?* We haven't even decided if we're going to start it again!” Harry had a
strong urge to pinch himself in the arm to see if he was dreaming.

“You better then.”

Harry shook his head; there was no way he could decide that now. “I have to think about it,” he
promised instead.

“Don't think too long,” said Draco and left.

Harry walked back to the Charms classroom dumbly, just in time to when Flitwick opened the door.
Hermione urged him in, Ron beside her.

“What did he say? Did he tell you something?”

Harry shook his head no; he was tired and worn-out, he had no energy to deal with things like
that now. “No, he didn't tell me… and he won't until I let him join the DA.”

Both Hermione and Ron's jaws dropped. “*WHAT?”* they both exclaimed at the same time.
Flitwick hushed at them.

“Yeah, I know,” said Harry gloomily, and - perhaps only out of pure habit - settled for a seat
in the front, with Hermione and Ron following suit.

-

He was really lucky to have such good friends, he knew that. He wouldn't even have managed
first year without them. However, something or someone was changing, and that someone was
Harry.

Harry didn't need anyone to tell him that he had changed the last year. Ever since Cedric
died everything had been different. And he knew, that Cedric, Sirius, Kingsley and everybody else
that were killed by Voldemort in Harry's dreams were only the first ones of a very long list of
people. Harry knew that he would see a lot of them die too - there was no way around it - and he
had to kill someone on the way himself if he wanted to live. Just like the Death Eaters.

Harry could feel the pressure on his shoulders so heavily that he barely could keep some
attention at all through the lesson.

Flitwick told them a lot about how they could use Charms to defend themselves, and more than
once he referred to Harry, though Harry didn't think too much about it. His thoughts slowly
drifted away from Voldemort and towards his best female friend. Were they together now? He hoped
so. He wasn't sure when it started, but he could barely keep his eyes from her. She had changed
from being a little girl with bushy hair and large front teeth to a beautiful, young woman.

Hermione's attention, however, was mostly directed towards the class and not Harry, almost
stubbornly. Eventually he gave up trying to get her attention and began to pay attention to what
the small professor said again instead.

Flitwick gave a little demonstration by tapping the wand over his head and turning half
invisible. Everyone in the class let out a gasp of surprise, except those who had seen or tried it
before, like the Trio.

Soon everybody in the class were trying out the new charm. Harry, Ron and Hermione did the same
as Flitwick had just done and felt the cold, wet experience over their head as they turned half
invisible.

Flitwick beamed at them and awarded Gryffindor thirty point, ten to each of them. Nobody else in
the class managed to get the charm right for the next ten minutes.

-

They had Potions after Charms, and that was the subject Harry dreaded the most. He was afraid
that Snape would be worse than ever, and sure enough, Severus wasted no time in telling Harry that
he would get no special treatment, no matter how soon the Dark Lord wanted him.

Harry, however, felt a little relieved by that. If Snape had changed his behavior just because
of Voldemort's threat then Harry would feel much more alarmed than he already was.

The class was divided in groups with three or four. Harry and Hermione were strangely sorted
into the same group, along with Blaise and another Slytherin girl Harry did not know.

Harry quickly figured out that Potions would be much more difficult that year, and Snape hinted
more than once that *someone* didn't deserve the spot, because *normally* he only
took in people with an `Outstanding' in OWLs.

-

After the class Harry had decided: He would not let Malfoy into DA without talking to the rest
of the team first.

Harry activated the coin he still carried around inside his robes, and all through dinner he got
many curious people asking him whether or not the DA was going to start again.

“Of course,” answered Harry patiently, Hermione by his side and beaming the whole time. Suddenly
Harry felt a couple of slender arm around his shoulder, and, convinced it was Hermione, he hugged
her back and twirled her around, only to discover that it wasn't Hermione after all, but
Cho.

“Hi,” said Harry and blushed slightly from embarrassment. He could practically *feel*
Hermione scowl beside him.

“Hi,” answered Cho back, with a look mixed of puzzlement and sadness over her face. “I read the
Daily Prophet,” she said sadly and Harry sighed.

“Yeah, well, that's some of the things we're going to discuss in the DA meeting
tonight,” he said, trying to look calm. Cho, however, was nowhere near calm, and gave Harry a new
hug, tears already dripping from her eyes.

“I'm so sorry, Harry,” she whispered, tracing a finger up and down his spine. Harry
shuddered and broke off the hug, holding her safely an arm length away. He didn't feel too
comfortable around her and had his limits.

“It's okay,” he said, looking at her sternly. “Voldemort has threatened me before; I just
have to watch my back...”

He seemed to use that excuse a lot lately.

Cho nodded, gave his hand a squeeze and then went back to the Ravenclaw table. Harry frowned
slightly before turning to Hermione, who still had a scowl on her face.

Harry gave her a small smile, before trying to take her hand. However, Hermione took her hand
away and gave him a threatening look.

“What was *that* all about?” she asked.

“What? Cho?” asked Harry, puzzled. Was she jealous? “Hey, don't worry, you're the one I
like,” he added hastily. Luckily Hermione let him take her hand again in approval after that.

“Can you... prove it?” asked Hermione suddenly, her voice a little teasingly. Harry froze. He
could tell she was testing him.

“What? Here? *Now?* What about-?”

She chuckled before putting her arms around his neck. “Yeah, I know,” she said, “but if
we're going to be a couple, people would find out anyway…”

Harry swallowed hard, trying to find some Gryffindor courage to do what she had asked him to. It
was not easy, however, every time they had kissed it had always been impulsive and in private.

Now she dared him!

*Just kiss her!* His mind screamed at him and he bent down before he could give more
thought to it. Their lips touched briefly before he pulled away again.

“Surely you can do better than that,” said Hermione after a while, looking at him closely. Harry
bent down again, but this time to whisper something in her ear:

“Meet me in the Room of Requirement a little early, would you?”

She giggled softly, and they went over to the Gryffindor table. both flushing brightly,.

Suddenly the whole table broke into an applause, and soon nearly the whole hall joined in as
well as the teachers that were present. Harry blushed bright red and so did Hermione, both wanting
nothing more than to skip dinner and run and hide somewhere.

Hermione, however, dragged him the rest of the way to the Gryffindor table stubbornly and sat
down beside him.

Suddenly, without warning, Harry felt something, or rather someone, pulling his mind. It
didn't hurt, but it left Harry quite puzzled still. *Voldemort!* He suddenly realized, and
blocked his mind with all his might; he would not let Voldemort ruin this. *Had the Dark Wizard
seen anything?*

Harry let out a sight of relief when he felt the connection subside. Luckily it didn't seem
like anybody had noticed.

Alarmed, he looked at the place where Ron used to sit, but the seat was empty. Harry swore under
his breath.

“Where's Ron?” he asked and Ginny turned her head and looked at him.

“I don't know. He hasn't showed up yet,” she said. Her voice sounded strange, empty
somehow. Harry felt even more uncomfortable.

“Shit…” he cursed and got up, “I got to find him!”

Harry dreaded the reaction he would get from Ron. After all, the Weasley had a hard time getting
on good terms with Harry again after the last time, that was reported in the Prophet.

Without having anything to eat, Harry escaped the great hall and the stares in it with quick
steps. There was no way to avoid it; he had to talk to Ron before someone else told him what had
just occurred.

He continued to swear under his breath as he hurried towards the Gryffindor common room, praying
that Ron was still there. He couldn't help but think that it was very unusual and out of
character for Ron to be late for a meal. Unless-

Harry was just running past the Transfiguration classroom when he heard something that made him
trip and fall hard on the floor.

“Oh Ronald!”

Harry, not daring to believe his own ears, slowly got up to his feet and peeked inside the
classroom carefully. There - on the teacher's desk - were no other than Ron Weasley and Luna
Lovegood *snogging*.

Harry let out a cry of surprise before he could collect himself. Ron looked up; his eyes huge
and then he blushed a very, deep shade of red.

Luna giggled and poked Ron in his chest, making Ron blush even more, something that Harry
didn't think was possible.

“*Ron!”* he finally cried out, after some embarrassing moments in silence.

“Uh…”

“How long?!”

“Er…” said Ron, passing Luna uneasy looks. “Since now?”

Harry goggled. “*What?”*

Ron, however, looked down at his feet, a soft smile playing in the corner of his lips, no longer
blushing. “Yeah, and we'd like to continue if you don't mind…”

Harry shook his head at them and left them alone, making his way back to Hermione. He felt
relieved and a bit scared at the same time.

-

Hermione did indeed meet him in the room of requirement a bit early. Harry felt his throat go
dry when he saw her enter, and Hermione bit her bottom lip nervously. Harry knew only too well what
he had meant when he had told Hermione to meet him a bit early, but now as the present had caught
up with him, it seemed like his courage had left him at the same time.

“Hi,” he managed to croak out, feeling as pitiful as Snape used every opportunity he had to tell
him he was.

Hermione smiled. “It's just me, Harry. No impostor, no Death Eater in disguise.
Promise!”

He grinned back. Trust Hermione to know a way to ease the tension. And she was right, even
though Harry looked at her a *bit* more different than he had a year ago; she was still the
girl he had known for five years. He shouldn't feel so nervous.

They sat down on a couple of pillows beside each other, saying nothing, only looking at each
other and holding hands.

“You know,” said Harry after a while when he felt that one of them should say something.
“I'm absolutely clueless when it comes to relationships.”

Hermione laughed softly, and then took her finger on his lips.

“Before we do anything though,” she said, “you must promise me to continue with Occlumency
lessons. I care about you so much, and I would do anything to make sure that you're as prepared
as you can be when the… when the time comes.”

“All right.” Harry agreed without hesitating.

“All right?” asked Hermione, as though she had expected him to protest quite a bit with her
before he gave in.

“Yeah. You're right. I should be prepared, and it certainly won't hurt.” The truth was,
Harry had already agreed with himself to continue with the lessons, in one way or another.

Hermione smiled, and kissed him gently on his cheek. Harry blushed and brushed away some hair of
her face, not knowing what else to do and feeling a strong urge to do so.

“You're something special, you know that?” he said drowsily, then froze. Had he said that
out loud?

Hermione giggled. “Oh, thank you Mr. Potter... what have I done to owe this pleasure?”

“Being you,” said Harry, and kissed her softly. Somehow that wasn't so hard to do
anymore.

-

Seamus, Dean and Ginny interrupted them ten minutes before the DA meeting began. Shortly after
even more people joined in: Ron, hand in hand with Luna, Neville, Parvati, obviously friends with
Lavender again, Susan Bones with Hannah Abbot, Cho Chang, Katie Bell, Ernie MacMillan, Justin
Finch-Fletchley, and everyone else that had joined the DA last year, except Marionetta and the ones
that had graduated.

Everyone found a pillow to sit on and arranged themselves so they sat in a half circle around
Harry, watching him expectantly.

“Right,” said Harry, and tried to appear confident. “I'm sure by now all of you know what
stood in The Daily Prophet this morning, right?”

Everyone murmured and nodded in agreement.

“And we'll support you in any way we can, you know that,” said Justin.

“Yeah, whatever it takes man,” said Dean.

“We won't let you down,” whispered Parvati and blushed slightly.

Harry's chest warmed. *They cared.*

“It appears-“ started Hermione, “that Draco Malfoy knows something about this.”

Everybody looked over at Hermione, their mouths open. Ginny in particular looked extremely
angry. Hermione shot Harry a look. “Harry talked to him today,” she told the DA.

“Yeah,” said Harry, “but he wouldn't tell me anything. *Unless-“* Harry interrupted
himself, because people had started to mutter angrily among themselves, “-he was allowed to join
the DA.”

Silence.

Harry cleared his throat. “That, of course, is out of question.”

Some seconds passed without anybody saying anything, but after a while Ginny cleared her throat
too, still looking furious. “I think,” she started, “that let Malfoy join the DA is a small price
to pay compared to lose you.”

This seemed to catch everybody's attention. “Yeah,” said Parvati, and soon the whole class
murmured their agreement.

Harry didn't know what to say.

“I don't care about Ferret boy,” said Ron and scowled slightly, “but I care about you...
besides, I wouldn't mind kicking that slime ball's ass from time to time without getting
detention.”

Harry broke into a grin.

“Thank you, guys. That means a lot to me… I still don't like it though.”

“Well, neither do we, clearly,” said Zacharias Smith sarcastically.

“So… what's this thing between you and Hermione?” asked Lavender, batting her eyelashes
towards Harry.

Harry grinned sheepishly. Ron's head snapped up, and stared at him like he had grown an
extra head. Hermione looked down, flush creeping up her chin.

Harry arched his eyebrows at Lavender, not answering, but still making her giggle.

“Oh God!” cried Zacharias. “You girls make me *sick*! Why's Harry so bloody
special?”

Several more girls giggled and looked at each other with knowing grins. Harry glared at them,
totally bewildered. Hermione nudged him, and he realized that everybody was looking at him, as
though they expected him to answer.

“*What?”* he snapped, “just because I've escaped Voldemort a few times doesn't make
me any different from you guys!” That was a downright lie and Harry knew it; but there was no
reason whatsoever for them to know about the Prophecy.

“Gees, stop saying his name already!” said Dean, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“Yeah,” said Seamus, “there's no reason to say it!”

Harry frowned, “Is there something else you'd like to discuss, except me and Proph- I mean
the Dark Lord?”

Several of the people in the group gasped, and Harry cursed under his breath. He hadn't
meant to say Prophesies; it had just slipped his mind.

Hermione turned around and looked at him searchingly; a worried look etched over her face.

“What did you say?” gasped Susan.

“What?” asked Harry, desperately trying to buy himself some more time.

“You said the Dark Lord!” exclaimed Susan, and Harry sighed in relief. She wasn't talking
about the Prophecy after all.

“Well, yeah, you didn't want me to say Voldemort, so-“

“You've said it before!” said Hermione suddenly, “I don't remember when, but you've
said it!”

Harry glared at her angrily. “So…?”

“Only Death Eaters say `the Dark Lord',” muttered Ginny under her breath, but everybody
heard her.

Harry's insides turned to ice. “I'm not a Death Eater! Honestly, *you* should
know!”

“We know,” said Ron instantly, “but it's weird, that's all.”

Harry felt horribly insulted, but deep down he couldn't help but agree. Since when did he
say the Dark Lord instead of You-Know-Who or Voldemort?

-

**A/N:**

I got a deal for you: For each review I get, a day sooner I'll post the next chapter,
it's written actually. If I don't get any reviews at all, you won't get the chapter
before July the 5th.

If I get ten that means I'll update June the 25th, and if I get 20 then next
chapter will be up June the 15th. (Did that make sense?)

Hopefully I can post two chapters before I go to Oxford this summer for three weeks, but
that's up to you to decide. Cheers!

-->



15. The Boggart
---------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Ch15: **THE BOGGART**

“Show us your arm!” said Zacharias suddenly.

Harry jolted back on his feet. “Why?” he demanded, not believing what he had heard.

“Show us your arm,” repeated Zacharias, “just to be sure.”

Harry looked helplessly at the other DA members, but they provided no help at this point.

“You got nothing to worry about,” said Hermione quietly, looking up at him.

Gritting his teeth, Harry started to take of his jumper so everybody could see that he had no
stupid Dark Mark. Harry could practically feel all the girls in the room peering at him and that
left him quite uncomfortable. Some of them started to giggle and Harry, deciding that enough was
enough, took the jumper back on.

He didn't sit down again, however, he was too angry. Too angry to notice that one of the
shelves shook slightly, making a small book fall down to the floor. He could, however, feel his arm
throbbing again and he realized he had to calm down. Luckily nobody had noticed anything odd.

Growling to himself and his pathetic attempts to calm down, he began to pace back and forth on
the floor to get rid of some nervous energy.

“What do you want for your birthday? Another book?” Ron asked Hermione with a mocking tone.
Hermione scowled, but poked his arm teasingly as though to pretend that it didn't offend her.
That seemed so out of character for Harry that he was able to stop his pacing for a moment before
he began to walk around again.

“What about some condoms?” asked Dean Thomas and rolled over in laughter.

Harry stopped, horrified. “*What?!”*

“Honestly!” said Hermione, glaring furiously at Dean, “condoms for heavens sake! There's
plenty of other ways to-”

“What do you need that for?” asked Ron questionably, he had never heard of muggle preventions.
Several students had to put a fist in their mouth to prevent themselves from laughing. Ron looked
at them incredulously. “What?”

Nobody bothered to answer him, however, to Harry's great relief. However, he had gotten a
new thing to worry about... *w**hat in the name of* *Merlin was he going to give to*
*Hermione on her birthday?*

-

-

The following night ended with a new nightmare. This time Harry saw Cedric, Sirius, Hermione,
Ron and his parents tied up against a wall, and Harry had to decide which one he wanted to live the
most.

Harry woke up before he had made a decision.

Even though it was an ordinary nightmare, he still felt exhausted when he got up from bed, as
though he hadn't really slept at all.

It was going to be a long Wednesday, and one day closer to Halloween. Harry shook his head in an
attempt to stop himself from thinking that. He had plenty of time to wade in self-pity later.

-

After a rather quick breakfast the trio walked to the first class that day; Defense. Harry
wasn't really looking forward to it though, since he had made a complete fool of himself last
time and he had a feeling that he would do the same again.

McClaggan greeted them with a curt nod as they walked into the classroom and found their seats.
The bright light in the classroom stung Harry's eyes.

“Morning,” greeted McClaggan, in a way that made most of the people in the class on guard,
“today we are going to have a little… ah, shall we say, *interesting* lesson…” McClaggan
tapped a closet beside him, which shook slightly. “A boggart! Yes-“ he said before anybody could
moan their displeasure, “I am aware of that you studied boggarts your third year here. However,
that is exactly the point in this and we are not going to practice the counter curse.”

The professor went over to his desk and grabbed a list over the students. “Mr. Longbottom!” he
cried, “what is your biggest fear?”

Neville blushed with embarrassment, but spoke loudly and clear: “Professor Snape, sir.”

McClaggan raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. “And that is the form your boggart take
when you face it?” he asked.

Neville nodded.

McClaggan's eyes studied the list once more. “Ms. Granger?”

Hermione's head snapped up. “Yes! My form took McGonagall's shape in our third year,
telling me that I failed in an important test-“

“Indeed,” interrupted McClaggan dryly and continued to ask the rest of the class what form their
boggart took. He saved Harry until the end.

“Mr. Potter?”

“Dementor, sir,” said Harry warily. McClaggan smirked.

“All right,” he said, “I *assume* - because I am not going to tell you if you do not - that
you are qualified enough to remember the incantation for getting rid of a boggart, even though you
are not going to use it. This is simply at test.”

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. *What wer**e they going to do**?*

“Do any of you think that your Boggart is going to be different?” asked McClaggan, eyeing them
suspiciously.

Some people in the class raised their hands hesitantly, however, Harry did not. He was still
afraid of Dementors, that was one thing that hadn't changed the last time he checked.

McClaggan ordered them all to stand in a line. Harry was the fourth to go and was already
preparing himself and gathering his happiest memories, so he wouldn't faint in front of the
whole class. McClaggan insisted firmly that Ron was to try first and the red-head had little choice
but to follow his orders.

With a flick of his wand McClaggan opened the closet and a huge spider came out. Ron raised his
wand, ready to defend himself, but McClaggan held up a hand, ordering him to let it be. McClaggan
counted to ten and then yelled “*NEXT!”*

Lavender's boggart was a dark haired boy, telling her he wanted to break up with her. She
cried out and began to wail, totally forgetting it was a boggart.

Hermione was next, but her boggart wasn't McGonagall telling her she had failed… no, the
image that appeared was a dead Harry. Then a dead Ron. Then her parents. Harry shivered at the
sight of their mangled bodies. Hermione's eyes swelled with tears, and he was left with a
desperate need to comfort her. He didn't even recognize that it was his turn until McClaggan
shouted “NEXT!”

Harry furiously tried to find his happy memory again, but he had completely forgotten about it
when he saw Hermione's boggart.

Knowing it was too late he braced himself for the cold feeling the Dementor was sure to provide,
however, the boggart wasn't a Dementor anymore. It was Voldemort.

The effect from Harry's boggart was instant: the people in the classroom panicked and ran
away as fast as they could in every direction. Harry, however, was frozen to the spot, unable to
move.

“I kill everybody you love, Harry,” Voldemort's cold, evil voice clang through the room and
something in Harry clicked and he lost his head completely.

“STUPEFY! EXPELLIARMUS! IMPEDIMENTA! *INCENDIO!”*

A huge ball of fire, larger than Harry had ever conjured - even with his lessons with Dumbledore
- shot from Harry's wand and exploded at the boggart with such force that Harry was thrown
backwards. An ear-splitting screech filled the room, making the few people that were left drop
their wands so they could cover their ears instead. For a moment Harry could swear that he saw
Voldemort's snake Nagini again, but as the scream subsided so did the fog and the snake. Harry
opened his eyes and everything came back into focus.

The boggart was gone.

Hermione instantly jumped to his side and pulled him into the most bone-crushing hug Harry had
ever received, even from Hagrid.

“You're alright, you're alright! I was so *scared*… for a second I thought- oh
Harry!” Hermione sobbed on his shoulder. Harry patted her shaking back weakly.

“I'm okay… nothing to worry about. It was just a stupid boggart.” Harry tried to comfort her
as well as himself. Ron limped over to them.

“Bloody hell!” he groaned, rubbing his leg. “*That* was a nasty boggart!”

Harry rolled his eyes mentally, “Yeah, I noticed...”

“Everyone!” bellowed McClaggan. “Come back here! The class is not over yet!”

The students that were close enough to hear him came back hesitantly, holding their wands so
hard their knuckles whitened.

“Who is next?” asked McClaggan, as though nothing had happened.

Nobody dared to answer.

The professor sighed angrily and turned to the closet. The *open* closet. The boggart was
nowhere in sight.

“Mr. Potter!” he barked, “GET UP!”

Alarmed, Harry got up from the floor he was sitting on and Hermione followed, holding his hand
so tightly he was starting to feel numb.

“Yes, professor?” asked Harry, holding his breath for the explosion he knew was coming. Somehow
McClaggan reminded him slightly of Vernon, or even Moody.

“Stay after class.”

Harry nodded and mumbled “yes, professor,” before sitting down again on a chair.

After McClaggan had listed of whom was still present in the class, (not very many,) they
continued on taking notes from the Stupefy curse, everyone except the Trio. Harry - because he knew
enough of it already, having studied it in fourth grade before the Triwizard tournament, Ron -
because he was too lazy and Hermione - since she was too busy clinging on Harry's arm.

He doubted he would ever get the feeling in his hand back.

The class ended rather quickly for a change, but Harry and Hermione remained in their seats as
everybody else got up.

“Uh, see you later, guys,” said Ron and trailed away, eager to get out of the classroom but
hesitant to show it. Harry turned his attention forward again, where McClaggan was looking at
Hermione intensely.

“Whatever you have to say, she can hear it too,” said Harry quickly. Hermione shot him a
grateful look, loosening her grip on him a little. A little sigh of relief escaped him.

McClaggan raised an eyebrow at Harry, but didn't object.

“Alright,” he said, “that was a very bad performance on a simple boggart-”

Harry bowed his head in embarrassment half wishing Hermione had left after all. “I know,” he
mumbled.

“-but understandable. Speak up!” ordered McClaggan.

“Yes!” said Harry loudly. Hermione shot him a glare.

“-Professor,” he added.

“The boggart was not, however, what I wished to talk about.”

Harry stared dumbly at him; he had expected a rant. “What then, professor?”

“About Voldemort and his threat.”

“Oh,” said Harry and frowned. *Great.*

“Dumbledore and I were talking yesterday and we both agreed to that you need more practice than
you get in class.”

Now Harry was listening. “Really?”

“Yes. Every day, precisely six o'clock in the evening.”

“*Every day*, sir?” asked Harry. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. How could he
get time for that with everything else that was going on? He was even gladder that he hadn't
taken the job as a Quidditch captain now. McClaggan gave him a sharp look.

“Yes. E-v-e-r-y d-a-y.”

Hermione's grip on Harry tightened again and he could feel her hair in his neck, tickling
him.

“Alright,” he answered and McClaggan nodded.

“Meet me tomorrow.”

Harry agreed and they were dismissed. As soon as they were out from the classroom Hermione
squealed.

“I can't believe it! He's going to tutor you *daily*! I'm SO jealous!”

Harry grinned. “Watch out then, I'm going to give you a run for your money soon!”

“I'm still jealous.”

Harry suddenly remembered why he had to be tutored. “Don't be,” he said.

Hermione said nothing, realizing just what Harry was thinking.

-

Transfiguration was okay. They still took notes, but on the bright side McGonagall promised them
that they were going to begin transfiguring animals into other creatures the next lesson before
eventually trying on each other. Then they were going to see which of the students that had the
ability to become an Animagus.

The students didn't keep much attention, no matter how interesting the subject was. They
were still shaken up from what had happened in their Defense class and some students were still
hiding somewhere.

Harry could hardly blame them, but he got a bit annoyed about how fast the rumors were spread.
Most of the school already knew what had happened and treated him like a was made of fragile glass
more than ever before.

-

When Harry and Hermione got back to the Common room Harry got a surprise that he wouldn't
forget easily; Mrs. and Mr. Weasley were waiting for *him.* His jaw dropped, but before he had
the chance to say anything Mrs. Weasley had captured him into a hug.

“My dear, dear, dear,” Mrs. Weasley chocked out, close to tears. Harry blushed.

“Whoa- Mrs. Weasley! What's the matter?”

“*What's the matter?”* cried Mrs. Weasley, ignoring the fact that Harry had called her
by her surname. “WHAT'S THE MATTER? What - haven't you *heard*? Oh, I'm going to
kill that old-“

“I've heard the threat alright... how could I not?” Harry mumbled, realizing why they had
come to see him in the first place.

It seemed to take Mrs. Weasley a while to take in what Harry had just said. ”You've
*heard?”* she asked incredulously.

“Yeah, from where everybody else did, *The Daily Prophet.”* Hermione piped up, exactly the
same time as Ron and Ginny emerged through the Portrait of the Fat Lady. They stopped dead in their
tracks, eyes widening.

“Mum? Dad? What are you doing here?” Ron asked, looking from Molly and Arthur and back to Molly.
Molly gave Ron a stern glare.

“To ask how Harry's feeling, of course!”

Harry stifled a groan. No matter how much he liked the feeling that somebody cared, he wanted to
go and hide somewhere... it felt like he had stepped into Ron's territory somehow and he
probably had. Ron's ears were red, from what Harry could only suspect to be anger or worse;
*jealousy.*

Harry steeled himself for Ron's outburst, but strangely he said nothing. Without giving them
a second glance Ron disappeared up to the boys' dormitory, leaving them alone.

Ginny didn't seem to know what to say, and after some seconds in silence she settled down in
a chair in front of the fire, picking up some of the hats that Hermione had knitted, looking at it
as though it was the most interesting thing in the whole world.

Mrs. Weasley turned her attention back to Harry, but before she could say anything Harry spoke
up:

“Don't worry, I'm alright. Really, I'll manage. Professor McClaggan even offered to
give me extra lessons in Defense. Thank you for coming here though, it means a lot to me - more
than you can imagine. But I think you should talk to Ron and Ginny too, after all, you're
*their* mother,” said Harry emptily*, not mine, mine's dead,* “-I'll just go for
a walk or something,” he finished and turned to leave.

“You're a part of this family too,” he heard Mrs. Weasley call after him, and Harry shot her
a grateful look. Nonetheless, he left the common room and the people in it.

After walking in the halls aimlessly for a while he decided to go out. He felt bad for the way
he had treated Mrs. Weasley. After all, she only cared about him...

*But they're not my family,* he reminded himself again sadly, as he walked down towards
the lake. He sat down exactly at the same spot as he had right before the summer started, after
Sirius had died.

Harry's throat tightened, he really wished his Godfather could be alive again, but there was
no way around the fact that he was dead.

Some part of him wanted to hate Ron for ruining the chance he had to feel that he belonged to a
family, but for some reason he couldn't. He knew that Ron felt he got everything.

“*But I didn't want any of it!”* said Harry angrily, tossing a stone into the lake.
*“I don't want it!* I don't want a bloody maniac wizard after me that kills everyone I
care about thanks to a damned Prophecy!” *Hermione's right...* *as usual,* he thought
to himself. The prophecy was just like a curse: if the prophecy hadn't existed then none of the
horrible things would've happened to him. He would have a normal life.

Some yelling interrupted Harry's train of thought. He turned his head and saw Lavender
storming back to the castle and a furious looking Parvati glaring after her. Parvati seemed to
sense that Harry was looking at her, and started to walk towards him swiftly. She sat down beside
him and for a long time they just sat there, without saying anything.

“What happened?” asked Harry finally.

“With Lav and me?”

He nodded.

“Well...” Parvati shifted slightly, “she didn't like how I've changed this term.”

“What?” asked Harry, certain that he had heard her wrong. How could Lavender, Parvati's best
friend through the whole school be mad at her when her whole family had died a short time ago?
Surely Lavender couldn't ask Parvati to stay the same after something like that?

Parvati shook her head. “We've fought so much this last days... she doesn't
understand...”

“What happened, Parvati?” asked Harry before Parvati could burst into tears. “Where were you
when it happened?”

It took some time for Parvati to start talking. “I was there alright... the whole time. I hid
under the bed with Padma when I heard dad call up that they had found us. The horrible female Death
Eater reached out under the bed and grabbed her, but she didn't see me... and I didn't dare
to move! I was so scared... so pathetic!”

“You're not pathetic,” said Harry, in what he hoped was a comforting tone.

Parvati sniffed and looked up at him briefly, before looking down again. “Yes, I am,” she
insisted. “Look at you, you're so brave, so smart... so good.”

Harry shook his head. “No, I'm not. I just do what I have to do, too dumb to find easier
solutions. There's a bunch of people that have died because of me,” said Harry bitterly.

Parvati didn't argue and Harry was grateful. Some part of him would always blame himself -
no matter how many times people told him he was not responsible.

-

-

Harry avoided the Weasleys the rest of the day. Instead he used a lot of time thinking about
what he should give to Hermione on her birthday. He didn't find any solution, however, and in
frustration he wrote a letter to Lupin, asking him for help.

Hedwig was delighted to have some work to do and flew off immediately.

Harry watched her until she was completely out of sight before heading back to the common room,
praying that Ron was asleep.

-->



16. Dealing With Things
-----------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

**A/N:** Sadly, I have to inform you that I am not going to stay home all summer. Today
I'll be going to Oxford to study drama and I'll be gone for three weeks... I doubt I'll
get the chance to write there. However, I'll update very soon after that because I only need to
correct the next chapter. Hopefully you'll continue reading (and reviewing) this even after
reading Half Blood Prince. There's only a few chapters until Halloween now. Until then...

- -

Ch16: **DEALING WITH THINGS**

Harry heard yelling far away from the common room.

“I wouldn't go in there if I were you,” said the Fat Lady with a huff. “Honestly, you'd
believe that I got the nice bunch, but nooo-“

“Please, let me in already!” said Harry irritably, and hesitated only a moment when she opened
the portrait before he went in.

“YOU IDIOT! HOW CAN YOU BE SO DENSE? CAN'T YOU SEE THAT HARRY IS HAVING A TOUGH TIME LATELY?
HE DOESN'T *HAVE* ANYBODY THAN US! *HOW COULD YOU?!”*

What Harry saw was Ron and Hermione, yelling their hearts out at one another. Both were equally
red in their faces, and both had looks that could petrify anyone that would get in their way. Both
had their wands drawn, only moments from hexing each other into oblivion.

At the mention of his name Harry tried to yell at them to stop it, but to no avail; they
couldn't hear him.

Except them, there were only a couple of people left, but they were hiding in the corner, as
close to the portrait as they dared. Neville was one of them.

“Harry!” he motioned, waving his hand, *“you - should -get -out - of -here, -it's
-**dangerou**s!* *I'll - come - with - you!“*

Shrugging his shoulders Harry joined Neville out, their ears ringing. He wouldn't be
surprised if Hermione - or Ron for that matter - had used the sonorous charm to make their meanings
clearer.

Glaring angrily at him the Fat Lady let them out, but if she said anything Harry couldn't
tell, because of all the noise.

“SO IT'S TRUE THEN? YOU AND HARRY ARE HOOKED UP TOGETHER, HUH? WHEN WERE YOU PLANNING ON
TELLING *ME* ABOUT IT?” Ron's voice followed them, and Harry cringed while closing his
eyes. He was quite ready for a hole to swallow him.

“*YOU**!”* Hermione's voice followed, “IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT *YOU!* WHEN ARE
YOU GOING TO STOP BEING SO SELFISH AND GROW UP? THIS IS SERIOUS! HARRY NEEDS US - NOW MORE THAN
EVER! ESPECIALLY SINCE-“

Harry shook hid head sadly. Their arguing wasn't going anywhere; they were both too stubborn
and too convinced that they were right.

“Thanks,” said Neville, rubbing his head as though he had a headache, something that wasn't
all that unbelievable.

“No problem. Just remind me to never get on Hermione's wrong side,” joked Harry, but neither
of them laughed.

-

Neville had to go to the library to finish up some Herbology work. Harry, however, was in no
mood for that, and went up to the North Tower. Just to let the wind blow on his face, and to clear
his thoughts.

His life seemed to be more complicated than ever these days; and he knew that without Hermione,
he would be lost.

-

-

Ron wasn't in the common room when Harry went back later that night, nor did he see Ginny.
Harry was glad; he doubted he could face them for a while anyway.

Hermione, however, was reading a book in on of the armchairs. She looked a bit tired, however,
as soon as she spotted him she jumped up and gave him one of her bone-crushing hugs.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and breathed in her scent. It was comforting, warm and
welcomed, like he had been away for a long time. Hermione tilted her head up a bit and gave him a
small kiss on the lips. The feeling of being home increased and he felt the warmth all the way down
to his toes. *How* *could someone possibly affect him* *like this*? He wondered. He
hadn't even been aware of that someone could feel that way.

“Where are the Weasleys?” he asked her quietly, almost afraid to know the answer.

“They left,” said Hermione softly, meaning Molly and Arthur, “and Ginny and Ron is up in their
dorms. I wouldn't expect them to be down for a while, at least not Ron.”

Harry sighed; he wished it hadn't turned out like that with the Weasleys. He cared about all
of them, and wished to be a part of their family, but he didn't like the feeling of intruding
either... and now he owed them all an apology, no doubt.

“I'm sure they'll understand,” said Hermione soothingly, reading his thoughts. Harry
smiled weakly, still holding her close to his chest.

“I hope so...”

“They will,” said Hermione with more conviction, “but you have to talk to Ron about this.
I've tried to, er, talk to him, but... you know how he is. Ginny took it better and she... she
understands.”

Harry gave Hermione a new kiss to show how grateful he was for her help, but he noticed her
hesitation with slight trepidation.

He gave her a final squeeze and then both of them said goodnight and went up to their respective
dormitories, Hermione collecting some books first.

Harry sighed heavily as he started to pull off his socks and pants, while looking over to where
Ron slept. He couldn't see anything though because Ron had drawn the curtains shut.

Harry did the same thing, and with a second thought he performed a silencing charm around his
bed too so he couldn't hear Ron's snores and, more importantly, to not wake anybody up if
he had a bad dream or vision again. Harry sincerely hoped that his lessons with McClaggan would be
so exhausting that he would sleep too deep to have any nightmares.

Harry rolled over in his bed as he felt sleep come to him, with a poor attempt in blocking his
mind.

-

After a couple of hours he woke up yet again from a vision of Voldemort's latest adventure,
with a thundering headache.

-

-

Harry stayed in bed until morning. His eyelids were almost too heavy to hold open, and his body
was sore all over. He was lucky that nobody from Gringotts bank were there with him, because if
they were he would be tempted to give away all his money for a couple of hours more sleep in a
heartbeat, or better yet the whole day.

However, he had potions first thing in that morning and no matter how tired he was he knew that
it would not be a good idea to give Snape another reason to give him detention and 100 points from
Gryffindor.

Groaning, he got up from bed and found his way to the bathroom to take a long, cold shower. He
couldn't avoid looking at his reflection, however, and what he saw made him groan even louder;
he looked horrible. Frowning, he splashed some more cold water on his face, in a feeble attempt to
look at least a little healthy.

When the attempt was unsuccessful, he realized there was only one thing that could help him.

A morning run.

-

Making it just on time, Harry sat down in front of his potion desk beside Hermione.

“Where've you been?” she asked, looking over him worriedly. The morning run had helped
greatly with the headache and he had gotten some color in his face. However, his body felt - if
possibly - more heavy for each minute he sat still.

“Running,” was all Harry could say, because Snape chose that moment to start the lesson.

“Today,” he said silkily, “we'll be working on the Dreamless Sleep potion. The ingredients
are listed up on the black board and you can find further instruction on page 554. Get to work...
*n**ow.”*

Harry sighed, but deep down he was really interested in this potion and wanted to learn it
perfectly. He was tired of nightmares... he just hoped that he could keep his eyes open long
enough.

-

Two hours later Harry had - for what had to be the first time in his life - managed to brew a
*perfect potion*. He had gotten some help now and then from Hermione, (luckily, since he was
quite sleepy) but he was still proud of himself.

His mood wasn't even disturbed when Snape came over and looked down in his cauldron, taking
fifteen points from Gryffindor for `Hermione helping him.' Harry actually took that as a
compliment, because that meant his potion truly was perfect.

Only Hermione didn't look too happy about this and kept muttering angrily to herself.

However, when she saw him looking at her, her expression softened and she gave him an
encouraging smile instead; flush creeping up her chin.

Harry turned his attention to the potion again, wondering how he could keep some of it without
Snape noticing.

“What's the matter?” whispered Hermione, frowning.

“I need it,” whispered Harry back, “it will help me sleep.”

With a nod Hermione went down in her rucksack and took out a water bottle.

“Here,” she said and helping him in collecting some of the potion when Snape wasn't looking.
When the class was over she used `*Evanesco*' to get rid of the rest, her water bottle
safely hidden in Harry's bag.

-

Charms went okay and Harry was happy to know that McGonagall kept her word in
Transfiguration.

He couldn't help but feeling nervous, however; he really wanted to become an Animagus and he
would be terribly disappointed if he couldn't be one. Because, as McGonagall had used half an
hour to explain in their last lesson; not every wizard had that ability. First of all, it took a
lot of bravery just to try. A transformation could go so horribly wrong if not done correctly and
cause serious damages to the body. Also, lack of bravery was the most normal reason to why so few
wizards were one; half-hearted attempts would not lead them anywhere and could make matters worse.
`If the wizard was not one hundred percent sure that he or she wanted to change, it was usually
then the alteration would go wrong. Not to mention that it demanded a whole lot of energy and
magical abilities to even have the chance.

That's what Harry was most doubtful about: Energy. He had felt very tired lately, and he
suspected that Voldemort was the one to blame... again. *Neither can live while the other
survives...* as Voldemort grew stronger Harry would grow weaker.

Harry didn't like it one bit.

As McGonagall continued the lesson, he saw many of the other students' eyes flick with fear
and he suddenly realized that very few of them, possibly no one, had the courage.

Even McGonagall didn't look too hopeful.

Harry himself had no doubt about wanting to become one so that wouldn't be his problem.
Uncertainly he glanced over at Hermione and wondered if she had the ability. He wished she had,
almost more than he wished it for himself. Still, he couldn't help wondering... sure, she was a
brilliant witch - and a Gryffindor - but did she really have the energy and the magical abilities
to be one? She was too afraid to fly on a broomstick... was that the same thing?

Harry shook his head. Of course she could do it! She was *Hermione*! HIS Hermione! She
could do anything! He was just being silly.

McGonagall tapped the desk with her wand to get everybody's attention.

“Now, clean away your desks and I will bring in some animals we can practice on,” she said, and
everybody did as she told them.

McGonagall brought back three boxes with grey, fluffy rabbits and explained how to change the
rabbit into a guinea pig and then the guinea pig into a larger animal like a dog.

Even though they had done similar practices like that before Harry still found it hard to change
one animal into another without leaving the animal with an extra leg or... something worse.

This time, however, it was surprisingly hard to get them to change. It felt like the animal
struggled against his magic; making it twice as hard as it should be. Even Hermione seemed to have
troubles with it; but she kept going without getting impatient. Slowly her rabbit started to change
and Harry could see the pride shine through her eyes. He turned his attention to his own animal
again and after five more minutes his too started to change.

Hermione was the first to change her animal completely and even made some special colors on her
guinea pig before starting to change it to a dog. Harry tried very hard not to scowl at her, as his
own guinea pig still had long ears.

However, he was starting to get the hang of it and he was still one of the first to manage the
exercise. McGonagall seemed to be happy with them and awarded them 10 house points each, telling
them that they could continue with changing their animal in any way they wanted the last ten
minutes since most of the class still was stuck on the rabbit or the guinea pig.

Hermione grinned widely and continued with changing her animal into a bird. Harry just stared at
her for a while. She was so beautiful.

Some part of Harry snorted and wanted to laugh at him; he had known Hermione for five years and
it was just recently that he had begun to notice her true beauty.

Not wanting to be caught staring, he looked back at his animal and decided to go for a cat.
However, he didn't get very far and soon the time was up and everybody began to rise.

Sighing, but still quite pleased with himself Harry got up with Hermione. McGonagall gave him a
small smile on his way out and said: “You got lot of your father in you, Potter.”

Harry's grin faltered. He knew it was meant as a compliment, some kind of comfort, but ever
since he saw Snape's memory in the Pensive he didn't want to be like his father anymore. He
didn't even want to think about it. Hermione noticed this and frowned.

“What's the matter?” she asked uncertainly, as though she was not sure how to react.

Harry turned to her, trying to decide if he should tell her or not. She studied him closely,
with her big, brown eyes, while she curled some hair between her fingers like she always did when
she was wondering about something. Just to see her like that made him smile; she looked so
adorable... so soft, so kissable.

“Nothing,” mumbled Harry while studied her, “everything's fine. Professor McGonagall only
meant it as a compliment anyway.”

Hermione looked even more confused by this, and stopped twirling her hair behind her fingers,
(meaning she gave up trying to understand).

Hermione took Harry's hand in hers as they continued their way to the next class. Harry was
very well aware of all the people looking and snickering at them, but Harry was beyond the point of
caring. Having Hermione there with him was worth it, and it made him feel light as a feather in the
wind.

However, almost as soon as they were outside the classroom, Harry spotted a familiar and
not-so-welcomed face: Draco Malfoy. Draco had spotted them too and a smirk appeared on his pointy
ferret face. Stubbornly, Harry held his head high and held on to Hermione as well. He wasn't
scared of Malfoy and he wanted to show it. Malfoy's smirk disappeared from his face when he saw
that it didn't bother Harry that he was seen with Hermione, but it didn't stop him from
approaching them. “Made a decision yet, Potter?”

“Yes, I have actually,” said Harry calmly, but his insides where squirming like mad and twisting
with agony with what he was about to say, “and you can join and will be considered equal to the
other members. As long as you follow the same rules as everyone else, that is.”

“And what rules might that be?” said Draco, his tone all business like Harry's. Harry was
instantly more suspicious of the other boy.

Beside him, Harry heard Hermione suck in her breath and he knew she felt the same way he did.
Besides - to make the matters worse - they didn't really have any rules in the DA. It was more
like an unspoken agreement, between friends who trusted each other. So, how to explain that to
Malfoy? No, he couldn't explain - there was no way - Malfoy would find a loophole easy and make
matters worse. Harry had to lie and the instant he knew that he smiled to hide his
insecurities.

“To not intentionally hurt others in the group, but protect them... follow me as a leader,
and... not spread what we are doing around,” he made up and held his breath for Malfoy's
answer.

Draco's eyebrows rose, but other than that he didn't show any expression.

“You as a... leader?”

“Yes,” said Harry firmly, “but you are welcome to make suggestions, though.”

Malfoy frowned and for a second Harry thought that he would pull back and call off the deal. At
some point Harry even suspected that Draco might suddenly hex him.

However, the blonde boy did none of those things. He only shrugged and said:

“What does to `DA' stands for anyway? Dummies for Aberration?”

Harry glared at him, but decided to overlook it and not press his luck further. “Defense
Association,” he said; he doubted that Dumbledore's Army would fall well as a name in
Draco's liking. Furthermore, it wasn't exactly untrue.

Harry was just about to ask Draco to tell them what he knew about the threat when he felt
something shift in his pocket. At first Harry ignored it, but then it shifted again and with a jolt
he realized it had to be the egg that he still carried around everywhere he went.

“Um, okay, we'll give you a note where to meet us, then you can tell us about the stupid
threat and we'll show you what we do. Now, we have to go to class. We're late! See you
later!” said Harry hastily and dragged Hermione along.

“Harry, what-? Hey! Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures is that way! Where are you
*going?”*

Harry stopped, he had been moving towards the Gryffindor common room. What was more, he suddenly
realized, was that *Hermione didn't know about the egg.*

“Er, right,” said Harry and scratched his head and continued walking without Hermione, “I guess
I'll see you later then.”

He could practically feel Hermione scowl at him.

“Harry*, get back here this instant!”*

Harry turned around and sure enough, she was scowling.

“Sorry,” said Harry uneasily and went back to give her a peek on her cheek to ease her up a
little, “there's something I need to take care of.”

Hermione looked hurt. “What's that? You've been acting weird all morning!”

“Just something...” he started, but thought better of it and showed her the egg. “This.”

The egg was moving slightly, it's golden shell reflecting the light and Hermione's big
eyes.

“It's hatching,” said Harry, excited, “I'm sure it is!”

Hermione looked torn and kept looking between Harry and the egg and where she was supposed to go
to class. She chewed her bottom lip nervously.

“Where did you get it from?” she asked uncertainly and looked at her watch again, not able to
decide if she should go with Harry or go to class.

“A snake, a golden one...” said Harry cautiously, “in Grimmauld Place, this summer. The snake
asked me to take care of it, and... I did. Now it's hatching! Can you believe that?”

“Eggs use to do that,” replied Hermione dryly. “But Harry, you don't even know what will
come out of the egg!”

Harry frowned and recalled the Snake's words, “she said it was her baby.”

Hermione sighed, “It could be anything! It doesn't even have to be a snake! Like a basilisk
comes from a chicken egg... but it can't be a Basilisk, `cause they need to be hatched beneath
a toad... but it could be something similar though... oh, darn! Now I am late for class and
*everything!”*

“You don't need to come with me!” said Harry dumbfounded, and the egg twitched a little more
violent, “I can take care of myself, you know.”

Hermione seemed to doubt that and Harry saw her eyes flare with frustration.

“Fine!” she huffed, “I'll come! Merlin knows what you could have gotten yourself
into...”

Harry suppressed a grin; he was glad Hermione would come with him even though she had to give up
a lesson.

“Sure you don't want to go to class, `Mione?” asked Harry with a glint in his eyes.

“Y-yes,” stuttered Hermione and raised her chin stubbornly, but she didn't fool Harry.

“You could go if you want to,” he said firmly, he couldn't stand her being miserable for him
and classes were important to her... *m**ore important than him**? He wondered, no,
that wasn't right* *-* *she was coming with him* *after all.*

“Don't be stupid,” said Hermione, disturbing Harry's chain of thoughts, “I said I would
come, and I'm late anyway. Just don't push it!”

Harry gave her hand a squeeze and didn't press the subject any further as they quickly
walked to the common room.

-

The egg used its time; it twitched this way and that, rolling and shivering... but it didn't
seem to want to hatch. Harry was getting impatient and Hermione frustrated. She mentioned more than
once that she should and could've sit through the Arithmancy class after all. After several
more minutes with nagging, Harry almost wished she had.

-->



17. Out of the Egg
------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me...

Ch17: **OUT OF THE EGG**

It took about two hours before the egg made progress. The clock ticked steadily towards five PM
and the sun was beginning to get low in the sky; casting long shadows in the Gryffindor common room
and the two teenagers in it.

Harry and Hermione watched in fascination as the small, golden egg started to break, struggling
to get the pieces off. Harry helped it carefully, taking off one tiny piece after the other.

Soon, there was a hole big enough for what was on the inside to come out. Hermione took
Harry's hand and held it gently and shivered a little when she saw a tiny, delicate snake take
its head out of the egg. The snake had the same colors as the egg, but it also had some black
paintings on it's back. *It was beautiful,* Harry realized when the snake got out, looking
around carefully with big, black eyes.

The snake seemed to consider its surroundings, as though looking for something. Suddenly, its
eyes caught Harry's and Harry was filled with the strangest feeling. He felt as though the
snake looked into his very soul.

Hermione whimpered softly like she was in pain and hid her face behind Harry's shoulder.

Harry, however, could not take his look away from the snake's and it did not seem as though
the snake was planning to look away either.

Harry wondered briefly if he should try to speak Parseltongue, but his voice seemed to be
abnormally dry and his tongue would not form the words he wanted.

The snake hissed and took out its own tongue; smelling him, and Harry suddenly felt a strong
urge to do the same, but that would not help him the slightest. It was hard to resist though.

He shook his head, finally able to break the contact.

“*Do you not like me?”* The snake hissed, sounding strangely hurt and Harry felt himself
being pulled towards its soothing voice.

“*Yes,”* he mumbled back in Parseltongue, feeling drowsy. He almost did not notice Hermione
when she rested one hand at his chin and kissed his neck, but when he did he nearly jumped out off
his seat. Hermione fell on top of him.

“Hermione?” he asked, confused. He could not help but smile at her when she opened her eyes and
muttered a soft “oh!” She tried to get off him, but he would not let go of her that fast and kissed
her forehead instead. She smiled back.

In the mean time the snake was curling up his leg, but Harry did not notice until its tiny body
settled down between. Hermione tensed slightly; not sure if she could trust the snake.

*“I am Akin. And you are my Guardian,”* the small snake stated. Somehow he didn't need
to know what sex the snake was, he just knew it was a male.

“Harry?” said Hermione uncertainly.

“What?” asked Harry, feeling dazed.

“The clock... dinner's over, we gotta hurry...”

“Hurry where?”

“The lesson remember! With Professor McClaggan! Oh, what he must say if we're late...”

“Oh,” said Harry and got to his feet.

“*Take me with you,”* the snake said and stretched its small body towards Harry. Harry
reached Akin his arm.

“Come on,” said Hermione, pulling the sleeve of his sweater and then the three of them went to
McClaggan's classroom in a hurry.

-

-

Every year the DADA teacher decorated their room differently. However, what struck Harry as odd
when he full of anticipation stepped into McClaggan's private study was that the room was not
personal *at all*. It looked as he was leaving any minute or had just arrived without having
the time to unpack.

There were no pictures on the walls. The shelves were completely empty except for a couple of
books in one of the ends. The desk contained a suitcase, an inkbottle and a quill. Nothing else.
This was so shocking for Harry that he barely noticed that McClaggan had appeared beside him.

Harry's eyes flickered towards the suitcase and a jolt of recognition shot through his body
so hard that he gasped and his knees got shaky.

The suitcase had seven locks, like the one the fake Moody had back in his fourth year.

It was a `Sorcerer's Trunk.'

“Sir?” asked Harry and turned towards the Professor. Akin, who had curled himself around
Harry's wrist, hissed softly.

“What is it, Mr. Potter?” asked McClaggan.

“That - that's a sorcerer's trunk!”

“Quite right.”

“But-!”

“But *what* Potter? Get a grip,” said McClaggan, annoyed. Hermione had half risen from her
seat in the back of the room, but remained where she was.

Harry shut his mouth. Just because Barty Crouch Junior had been a bad guy did not mean that
McClaggan was evil as well, even though they had the same trunks. Yet, it left Harry with an
uncomfortable feeling.

Just then there was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” asked McClaggan impatiently and the door opened. Dumbledore and Remus stepped in. Harry
gaped.

*“Remus?”*

“Hello Harry,” said Lupin warmly and gave Harry a soft pat on the shoulder. “Good to see
you.”

“Good to see you too, but what are you doing here?” asked Harry, perplexed.

“We're going to help you in your training today,” said Lupin and Dumbledore's eyes
twinkled merrily.

“Oh,” said Harry.

“Lets get started then, shall we?” said McClaggan and all of them went to the DADA classroom.
“What can the boy do?”

Dumbledore flicked his wand and the desks and the chairs moved out of the way.

Harry wished he could do that...

For the next ten minutes Dumbledore - with a few comments from Harry - told them how far Harry
had progressed under his tutoring that summer as well as his previous years at school.

“Excellent, excellent...” murmured McClaggan to himself from time to time, but Harry didn't
think anyone was supposed to hear him.

“...there is no doubt that Harry is very powerful,” finished Dumbledore with pride. Harry felt
his face go warm; it was a great compliment from a wizard like that.

“And he produced a corporeal Patronus in his third year!” Lupin shot in.

McClaggan said nothing to that, but there was something in his eyes that Harry could not figure
out. Was it surprise? Was he pleased? Angry?

“You wanted to learn the Tracking charm next, am I correct?” asked McClaggan, raising an
eyebrow. Harry nodded. Akin, still around Harry's wrist, shifted a bit.

“Alright, then...”

-

-

Two hours later, Harry had mastered the Tracking charm and had also learned a new spell. The
second one was a `Message spell,' that made it possible for him to send thoughts to anyone that
was less than half a kilometer away. It reminded Harry slightly of how Dumbledore had used his
Pensive; he had to point his wand at his head and think a thought, and when done correctly a
silvery thread would attach to the tip of the wand.

Then, Harry would have to say `*Pensamiento Para'* - and the person's full name to
make `the thread' go to the correct person. On the way the thread would part: the longer
distance - the more the thread would drift apart until it became a cloud so thin that the slightest
breath of wind could wisp it away.

However, the spell was not that hard to do as long as he could collect his thoughts. The only
problem Harry could see so far was that it demanded a lot of energy if he wanted the spell to go
over a long distance.

“So,” said Lupin lowly so the girl who were watching from the corner could not hear, and brushed
a fringe away from his eyes. “Have you figured out a gift for Hermione yet?”

Harry sighed. September had passed fast and now there were only a little over a week until her
birthday and Harry had still not found a present for her. And with the beautiful watch she had
given him and the fact that they were together now (together!) he felt that he should give her
something special. Dear Merlin!

“No, I haven't,” Harry finally answered, but then he suddenly remembered something. “Did you
get my owl?”

Lupin smiled. “Yes, I did and I have a suggestion.”

Harry felt a rush of anxiousness through his veins. “What?”

“The gift Sirius gave you, remember?”

“What? Hermione doesn't like motorcycles!”

“You have the bike?” asked Lupin, suddenly looking at Harry with a very interested
impression.

“Yes?”

“Have you used it?”

Harry nodded. “That's how I arrived at Grimmauld Place... it's really cool.” Harry
looked over at Dumbledore. “You didn't tell him?”

The old wizard shook his head. “I am afraid not. That was your secret to tell.”

Harry had an impression that the secret about the Motorcycle was not the only secret Dumbledore
was talking about.

“Don't worry,” said Lupin kindly, studying Harry's face closely, “I don't mind. I
just wanted to know if you enjoyed it, that's all. Your father did, certainly.”

“He did?” asked Harry, only mildly interested. “What about my mum?”

Lupin scratched the back of his head. “Well... she wasn't quite that fond of it. She thought
it was a stupid kind of show-off, and too dangerous besides.”

Harry snorted.

“Anyway-“ continued Lupin quietly, sensing Harry's change of mood, “we've gone a little
off topic. About that gift... I meant the mirror Sirius gave you during the Christmas Holidays. You
still have that one right?”

Harry bowed his head in shame; it felt as though he had betrayed Sirius and his respect for him
when he broke that mirror. Why couldn't he get over it?

“It broke,” whispered Harry, just loud enough for them to hear. Dumbledore and McClaggan
pretended not to listen, however, and Hermione had left.

“Oh,” said Lupin, looking thoughtful for a moment. “I guess that can be fixed. But Harry...”

Harry looked up, meeting his eyes. “Yes?”

“Did it broke before... or after... you know...”

“After,” said Harry, confused.

“Did you see... yourself?” asked Lupin, his voice just as low as Harry's had been, only with
a tiny tingle of hope.

“Yes... yes I did. I tried to call him but it didn't work.”

Lupin's slightly hopeful expression disappeared and he looked sad again. “That only proves
it, I guess,” he said huskily and sat down on the floor. Harry sat down with him.

“How come? It didn't work...”

“Yes it did,” said Lupin with a sigh. “The mirror, you see Harry, is charmed to show the view of
where the other mirror is, allowing the two owners to see each other. However, when one or both of
the owners die, the charm is broken.”

“Oh,” Harry said, almost dizzy. What else could he say? Darn it?

So there really was no hope to see Sirius then... they did not need a body to know that he had
died.

Some minutes passed in silence, both of them deep in thoughts.

Harry tried very hard not to think about Sirius. Instead he tried to think of the mirror and if
he should give it to Hermione or not. It would be a perfect gift, really... but was he ready for
it? Could he pass on Sirius' mirror to anyone else without regretting it?

*“If anyone deserves it, she does. She loves you,”* said Akin, reading his thoughts.

“What?” asked Harry, startled, but since he had been thinking of Hermione he had not spoken in
Parseltongue.

Lupin looked up. “Sorry, did you say anything?”

“No, no, it was nothing,” said Harry and got up. Dumbledore and McClaggan finished talking - as
if on cue - and went over to him.

“I think this is enough for today,” said Dumbledore, but Harry saw that McClaggan did not think
much of that idea. Harry suddenly wondered - with a weird kind of excitement - how the lesson would
have been if McClaggan had controlled everything from the start. Would Dumbledore and Remus be
there next time?

“I just want to try it one more time,” said Harry, and he could've sworn he saw McClaggan
smile slightly.

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to focus his thoughts. Picturing himself and Hermione in the Room
of Requirement, kissing like they had done the other night, he held the wand tip firmly to his head
before taking it away again. He glanced at the silvery thread only for a moment, before he said
“*Pensamiento Para Hermione Jane Granger!”*

His thought was gone with the blink of an eye.

“Very good Harry,” said Lupin with a grin. “Do we want to know what the thought was?”

Harry blushed and had to bit the insides of his cheeks to not grin like an idiot. “I don't
think so!”

Dumbledore chuckled. McClaggan, on the other hand, merely rolled his eyes, huffing:
“Teenagers!”

-

-

“HARRY!” said a very agitated Hermione, and rushed over to where Harry was when he entered to
common room. “*Did you just use the* *Message spell?* Oh, can you teach me how to do it?
Can you? *Can you teach me now*? No wait-!” Hermione interrupted herself, “teach us it in the
DA! That way we can communicate without the coins...” Hermione paused, realizing that she had been
babbling, then grinned. Before Harry had the time to realize that she was up to something she leapt
into his arms and hugged him hard. “And by the way,” she whispered softly into his ear, “I like
your thought...”

Harry's heart leapt at her obvious flirting and when he looked into her eyes he saw that
they were sparkling brightly with pride. If someone had told him, just then, that she had stolen
all the stars in the sky he probably would have believed them.

-->



18. Hermione's Birthday Present
-------------------------------



**D****isclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me**.**

*- .*

Ch18: **HERMIONE'S BIRTHDAY PRESENT**

So hold me when I'm here
Right me when I'm wrong
Hold me when I'm scared
And love me when I'm gone
Everything I am
And everything in me
Wants to be the one
You wanted me to be
I'll never let you down
Even if I could
I'd give up everything
If only for your good
So hold me when I'm here
Right me when I'm wrong
You can hold me when I'm scared
You won't always be there
So love me when I'm gone

Love me when I'm gone...

(-When I'm gone, 3 Doors Down)

*Harry used a lot of the next nights to dream about Hermione. It was incredible how good it
felt to dream about her instead of getting visions that Voldemort planted in his mind!*

*However, what had made Harry a bit uncomfortable at first, was that his dreams* *had
taken a drastic turn. They were no longer so innocent, now* *he and Hermione would go much
further than they had done before. He felt like a freaking pervert, but who was he to stop it
really?*

*Now he had one more reason to put silencing charms around his bed. He could only imagine how
embarrassing it would be for the both of them if he was caught moaning and gasping in his sleep,
while calling Hermione's name.*

*Harry* *spent more time in his bed the morning of Hermione's birthday than usual,
before he got up to* *take a cold shower. He wanted to wake up a bit more before he went
down* *to breakfast**.*

*T**he lessons with McClaggan was exhausting**.* *The lessons could go on for
three or four hours straight with intensive training, and* *every* *time he looked like
he had been in a battle for days. He had cuts and bruises everywhere, his muscles were sore and
stiff, and honestly, it got old. However,* *he knew it was crucial to learn* *and*
*he* *would* *n**o**t have it any other way. Somehow, the pain made him feel
like he was* *doing* *something* *and that was the important thing at the
moment.* *He hated to* *go around doing nothing* *these days**.*

*McClaggan made Harry be on constant vigilance too**.* *Every time* *the
Professor spotted Harry in the halls* *he would fire curses at him. The moral was easy: if
Harry failed and did* *n**o**t manage to watch himself, McClaggan would push Harry
even further the next lesson.*

*Harry only wished he could fight back; for even thoug**h McClaggan did it all the
time* *Harry was still not allowe**d to practic**e magic in the halls. He could only
thank Merlin for Quidditch reflexes!*

*However, it was a different story with transfiguration. The lesson where they* *had
been* *tested for which animal they were most likely to become had ended in complete
disaster!*

*Harry sh**ivered* *at the memory and quickly took a comb to flatten his hair. He
had actually changed his mind about becoming* *an Animagus**.*

*/**Flashback/*

*“All right* *Ms**. Patil, you a**re the next,” McGonagall's curt voice
echoed through the classroom. Every student was standing in a lin**e* *against the wall,
as each one was tested. So far only a couple of people had gotten clear results.*

*Parvati stepped forward nervously and McGonagall began to take her measurements with her
wand. It took a while, but as McGonagall kept doing* *her business* *Parvati's shadow
slowly started to change form.*

*It was funny to see each ones shadow change* *form. It looked absurd even, since*
*your shadow was always something that you carried around. However, there w**ere*
*still many things he did* *n**ot kno**w about the* *Wizarding*
*world.*

*Parvati had kept her eyes closed the whole time, but when she opened her* *eyes and saw
what her form was* *she grinned widely. Her shadow had formed to something that could be
nothing but a small, delicate bird.*

*Harry was very happy for her* *and could only hope that he would have the same
luck.*

*McGonagall moved to Lavender next, but was unsuccessful. Apparently Lavender did*
*n**ot have the power* *and her shadow did* *n**o**t change one bit.
Harry was surprised though, because if he was* *n**ot much mistaken (what* *would be
weird because of* *her* *smile) she had no desire to become an Animagus herself.*

*With a nod of understanding McGonagall moved on to the next person - Neville. Harry had
expected to see Neville's shadow changing, but was disappointed to see that it only changed
halfway. So far it did* *n**o**t look* *like* *anything bu**t some
kind of large mammal... a**pparently Neville missed* *something**.*

*Hermione was the next one* *and after that it* *would be* *Harry's turn.
Harry held his breath; it was now or never of her. Somehow he knew that if it* *turned out*
*that* *she* *did* *n**ot have the ability* *then she would think it was
all for the best and stop everyone else from becoming one.*

*Besides, doing it without her would be almost impossible for him, nor did he want to.*

*H**e* *carefully watched Hermione's shadow as McGona**gall tested her. No
change... n**o change! Harry was about to lounge at McGonagall when Hermione's shadow
suddenly crouched down and began* *to change. The change was slow* *and if Harry did*
*n**ot know better then he would ha**ve thought that Hermione* *forced*
*it* *to change. He did* *n**ot care though* *as long as it continued*
*to change**.*

*When the shadow stopped changing everybody, including Harry, held their breath to see what
form it had. It lo**oked like a huge, oversized cat, although it was hard to tell.*

*“Congratulations Ms**.* *Granger,” said McGonagall with one of her rare smiles.
“You have the ability.”*

*Hermione's smile brightened Harry's day, at least for one more minute*
*until* *McGonagall began* *to test him. Harry closed his eyes* *and focused on
the magic inside him, like they were instructed to.*

*The silence in the room was almost dizzying, and Harry opened his left eye to see what they
saw. His heart leapt in his throat. His shadow was changing!*

*At the moment* *it looked a lot like Parvati's bird, although bigger and not
completely formed.* *Harry was about to grin widely,* *however,* *when his*
*shadow seemed to change it**s mind. It changed back!*

*He watched silently in disbelief as the shadow melted to a ball before* *it began to
stretch. And stretch. Then it stretched some more. Harry* *w**as horrified* *when he
saw what it was**. It was...*

*“A snake!” said Lavender with a gasp, and she was right.* *Everyone saw it and there was
no doubt in the world.*

*Harry's* *Animagus* *form was a snake. And a large one at that.*

*/End Flashback/*

Harry gritted his teeth as he gave up combing his hair. Akin, who usually stayed in his backpack
or in his dormitory while Harry attended to classes, had been delighted at the news and wanted him
to begin to practice right away. Harry refused though. He didn't want to be a snake, it was too
Slytherin!

The whole school knew and not surprisingly people had began to shy him again. It was weird to
see small first years escape from him.

Harry sighed; it was no use to stay away from them. It was not his fault after all, right?

Putting on some dry clothes he went down to breakfast. What greeted him was not the cheerful
mood he had been hoping for, but grim faces and low whispering. For once it did not seem to be
about him.

“What's up?” asked Harry, and sat down beside Hermione.

“Oh, it's awful!” said Hermione sorrowful, shaking her head. “It's been another attack.
A big one.”

“Yeah,“ said Seamus, “fifty muggles and twenty-two wizards killed.”

“Dementors?” asked Harry, feeling sick.

“And Death Eaters,” added Ron. Harry noted that the boy didn't have so much appetite as he
used to.

“Didn't you dream it?” whispered Hermione, bending her head close to his, exposing a very
smooth - looking neck and an *adorable* earlobe.

Harry shook his head, desperately trying to hide the blush he felt creeping up his chin. *How
inappropriate!* He scolded himself.

“Let's check the names!” said Dean urgently and the others nodded. However, before they
could do that, they were disturbed by a rasp bird voice.

Harry turned his head sharply and heard many others in the hall gasp.

There was an absolute and total silence as they watched the black, ugly raven fly ungracefully
around the hall, looking and searching...

It searched the hall a couple of rounds and the air was so tick with tension that someone could
have cut it with a knife. Harry thought it looked like an ordinary raven at first, but as it made
its way towards the Gryffindor table - because it did, unmistakably - he saw that the raven was not
like any other ravens he had seen before. This was so ugly it looked like it had been dead for
moths, almost like a Thestral in bird form. The raven made a turn and flew towards Ginny and Dean.
Dean looked puzzled, but Ginny looked more terrified than she had been in the Department of
Mysteries. Whatever it was it was not good and one of them was about to pay.

It settled in front of Dean, sticking out its foot, that had a black letter with red band
fastened to it. Ginny let out a choked sob of relief, her eyes full of tears, and so - surprisingly
- did Ron. Harry couldn't ever remember seeing the two Weasleys in a state like this.

*What was going on?*

Dean looked shaky as he unfastened the letter and even though it was hard to tell, Harry could
have sworn he saw him pale considerately. Dean began to read the letter slowly, the Great Hall
silent and waiting. When he, however, reached the end of the letter, he frowned and began to read
it all over again. And again. And again.

Somehow McGonagall had managed to get to their table without anyone noticing and placed a
wrinkled hand on Dean's shoulder.

“Come Mr. Thomas, let's go to my office, shall we?”

It took some time before Dean gave any response and Harry felt bad for him. Somehow he now had a
good feeling what the letter contained.

It took some moments before Harry could take his eyes from the spot where Dean had just been to
where Dumbledore was speaking in the front of the hall.

“...and that is why we have decided that all classes are cancelled until noon. My condolences to
everybody who knew someone involved in the attack. This is a difficult time, and it is important
that we stand together and support each other. Thank you.”

That meant they still had Defense Against Dark Arts, Harry thought, and felt guilty for looking
forward to it. He looked at the raven again and suppressed a shiver; it was the most ugly bird he
had ever seen. Its feathers were dull and messy, and its feet had claws that reminded him of a
spider. However, it was its eyes that made it look most horrid, they were yellow, black and empty,
and were staring right at Harry as if saying: `*I will see you again soon...'*

Suppressing a new shiver, Harry gently took the daily prophet from Dean's seat. He was just
about to read it when Hermione took one hand over his gently.

“Don't,” she said softly. “He'll tell us when he's ready.”

“But...” Harry protested. “Everybody else's going to read about it!”

“That'll be their choice,” said Hermione firmly, “besides, they might not know what
they're looking for.”

Harry shrugged and looked over at Ron who was staring at Hermione angrily, opening and closing
his mouth.

“What a way to celebrate your birthday, huh?” said Harry apolitically and stroked her chin.
“What do you say to go out for a bit? We have a free period after all.”

“I'd love to,” said Hermione and blushed prettily. Ron scoffed.

They both knew that in times like that they needed to hold on to the good moments, and Harry had
planned this carefully. It was just a little sooner than he had expected.

They linked arms all the way down to the entrance of the school, nodding politely to McGonagall
and even to Filch when they passed each other on the way.

Harry opened the large, wooden door and was greeted by a high and warm sun.

Still holding hands with Hermione, he guided her to a nearby bench and sat down. Somehow this
reminded him of when they were outside the restaurant, only this time nothing was going to ruin the
moment.

Harry reached his hand down in his pockets, and fished up a small, wrapped present and enlarged
it. Smiling, he gave the gift to Hermione, praying that she would like it. He did not know what to
do if she did not.

Carefully, she took the gift from Harry's hands. She used some moments to feel around the
edges before opening it with such tenderness that he wished she could do the same to him. When she
had unwrapped the present it fell down in her lap and she gasped loudly. She turned to Harry with
hot tears in her eyes.

“Is this..?”

“Yes,” said Harry, and took her hand in his. “It's a two - ways mirror. That way - as long
as we carries it with us - we can talk to each other whenever and wherever we are. I have one that
belonged to my dad. Sirius gave it to me last Christmas, but I never got myself to use it or even
open it. Actually,” Harry admitted, feeling the well - known shame wash over him, “I did not opened
it until the day we left Hogwarts for the summer. This one-“ said Harry, nodding to the mirror
Hermione held in her hands, “-belonged to Sirius. I can't think of anyone I would rather share
it with than you.”

“Oh, Harry,” said Hermione, her tears flowing freely down her cheeks now. “It's wonderful!
You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Harry smiled and brushed some of her hot tears away with the palm of his hand before both of
them got up from the bench. They both shivered a little, and could not help but laugh.

“You're so wonderful,” said Hermione, and leaned in to kiss him lightly on the lips. Harry
pulled her closer, smiling to himself. The kiss was tender and passionate and spoke more than words
could ever hope to achieve.

However, when he was about to deepen the kiss, Hermione pulled away:

“If you want more... you'll have to catch me first!” she said with a wink, then began to run
away. Her hair hang as a curtain of curls behind her and the mirror she had in one hand reflected
the light from the sun. Harry was yet again struck with her beauty.

He stared after her for some moments; blessing his luck, before he recovered.

Grinning, he started to run after her, catching up the distance fast without even being short of
breath. All the mornings he had used to run through the summer must had done him good.

Hermione, however, was faster than she appeared to be and she reached the lake before he did.
When Harry finally caught up with her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her in for a well-deserved
kiss.

This time Hermione deepened the kiss herself and he felt her chest rising and falling
dramatically for being short of breath under him. Harry stroked the back of her hair gently, his
other hand resting around her waist. He was oblivious to anything except the beautiful girl in
front of him and the hot sun on his face.

Hermione rested a finger on his cheek, and broke off the kiss slowly, smiling with mischief.
Harry, afraid hat she would run off again, kept a firm grip on her arm, but she just kept smiling
up at him before she started to *undress.*

Harry stared at her with wide eyes, his mind racing furiously and slightly panicking. *What
was she doing? Did she expect him to* *-?*

Hermione stepped out of her pants and took of her Hogwarts robe and the top underneath, so that
the only thing that was left on her was black underwear. The sun glowed on her already tanned skin
and Harry could not take his eyes of her.

He gulped; surely she was not about to do just what he was thinking?

“Come,” whispered Hermione and guided him towards the lake. Realization dawned for him, she
wanted *a bath.* He almost laughed of his own silliness, but some part of him (that he did not
really want to give much thought to at the moment) was more than a little disappointed.

Nervous, he started to step out of his own clothes as Hermione started to step into the water.
Luckily he had on reasonable boxers for once, that were also blissfully *wide.*

Undressed and safe he decided to have a little fun. Without warning he started to run towards
her, splashing water everywhere.

“*Harry!”* she shrieked, but Harry grabbed her waist and leapt deeper into the water with
her so they had to swim.

Harry, suddenly aware of that he was not a terribly good swimmer, took a better hold of her.

Hermione, however, decided it was time for revenge and ducked under the water to tickle him.
Laughing, he pulled her up and used a moment to study her features.

She looked - if possibly - more beautiful than ever. Her hair, no longer wearing any resemblance
of being bushy because of the water, hang in dark tendrils down her back and there were small water
drops on her eyelashes.

Harry kissed her softly and allowed them to just float weightless in the water. Hermione wrapped
her legs around him as they kissed and the feeling of her against him as tightly as she was now
made the warm feeling he had inside to increase.

However, who was he to say it was love? He had never truly experienced it before so how could he
know that what he was feeling was more than teenage hormones?

He remembered Voldemort's, or rather the Boggart's words `*I'll kill everyone*
*you love, Harry...'* all too well. It did not matter if the words was from a boggart or
not, it was still true. However, just as much as he could not allow himself to believe that what he
felt was love he could not let Hermione go. He wanted her, he needed her, and he never wanted to
leave her or hurt her in any way. He cared for her more than he had ever cared for anyone before.
It was scary, but also comforting in a weird sort of way.

“Hermione,” he moaned, and she smiled against his lips.

“Yeah?”
”Don't leave me.”

Hermione paused for a moment before answering. “I won't. I'll always be there for
you.”

That was not exactly the answer Harry wanted, but he could settle with it. At least for now.
Their relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend was still fairly new, and it would be stupid of him
to expect her to give him promises of undying love. She was there now and that was all that
mattered at the moment...

-

For the next few hours Harry felt as though he was walking on a cloud and the threat from
Voldemort seemed ages away. Even the fact that his Animagus form was a snake did not bother him
much. That was not to last, however.

When Harry, Hermione, Parvati and Ron went to their DADA class that day around noon, Harry was
in for another nasty surprise.

It started as it always did: They read a text in their defense book for twenty minutes, then
McClaggan would speak for another twenty, and then the rest of the period would be practical. It
was what McClaggan had to show them while he was speaking that messed up Harry's day, and
loudly too.

The professor had told them about discovering dark arts and had used a sneakoscope as an
example. However, when McClaggan had held it up high for the class to see, the detector started to
spin and screech loudly. Harry could almost feel the item stare at him, and instinctually he knew
that *he* was the one the detector reacted to*.*

He had no idea what to do as McClaggan moved closer to him step by step; looking around the
class, but he felt just as bad as he had back in his second year when he had been framed for
attacking and petrifying several people. This time, however, he had no excuse: he knew there was a
reason for it to react. Oh yes, there had not passed much time since Harry had used some Dark Arts,
even though it was not on purpose. Besides, he realized, his link with Voldemort had grown
stronger. Harry remember with dismay something from the `*All About The*
*Unforgivables**'* book he had read over the summer:

*When the caster put so much emotion in the curse as he or she would have to do for the curse
to work properly, it is not without a prize. Not only would the caster risk a life-sentence in
Azkaban, the Wizard Prison guarded by Dementors, but the caster's soul would also be
affected.* The soul would be forever marked*, depending on how* **much** *the caster
enjoyed it.*

*The feeling of power is addict able, and the caster* *will* *in most cases feel
strongly tempted to use an Unforgivable again in the future. If recently used, it would have an
effect on Dark Detectors,-*

Harry's head started to spin. He remembered stopping at that exact sentence and tossing the
book across the room in frustration. Now, as McClaggan only had a few steps left, he deeply
regretted that. *What was he going to do now?*

*- .*

**Note:** Remember that reviews are important and that we H/Hr shippers must support each
other, especially now. In some ways it is also a way to repay the writer. I am not writing stories
for you, I am writing for myself. To hear what people think is the reason I post on the net.

Thanks to Harry/HermioneAlways who reviewed the last chapter.

-->



19. Training for Life
---------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

**A/N:** This chapter was rather hard for me to write, since Halloween is right around the
corner (next chapter is called The Final Countdown, and then there's Halloween) and I had to
pick up many loose ends and include things that's been put out. It took some time, yes, but
this chapter is the longest yet - in fact it's 70 per cent longer than normal. Over 5100 words!
:) As for the reviews... I do not know what to feel about three, but it is better than the result
from chapter seventeen. I suppose after reading HBP you are looking for something else and decided
not to be “delusional.” Or whatever. I still get a lot of hits so it is hard to tell.

Cheers!

- .

Ch19: **TRAINING FOR LIFE**

There was nothing Harry could do really. He was screwed; and when McClaggan reached him it could
not be more obvious that Harry was the one causing the horrible sound on the sneakoscope. Utterly
in lack for other things to say when McClaggan asked why he answered: “Voldemort,” and held his
breath.

“How so?” asked McClaggan disbelievingly, his eyebrows raised, while everybody except Harry and
Hermione flinched. Suddenly Harry's arm jerked slightly, and to his horror the Sneakoscope
shrieked even louder.

“Scar,” he said quickly, in what he hoped was a more confident tone and stare.
“Connection...”

McClaggan glared back and Harry instantly got suspicious that the weird professor attempted
Occlumency on him and steeled himself against being intruded. Nothing came, however. Perhaps the
professor just knew how to glare?

After a while McClaggan nodded and continued the lesson. However, Harry did not miss some of the
looks the other students in the class passed between each other or the whispers that followed him
the rest of the day.

-

-

Despise the rumors nobody questioned him about the incident with the Sneakoscope, not even
Hermione. Deciding to lay low for a while he kept himself as anonym as possible the rest of the
week. Hermione meant he was being ridiculous, but he didn't care. It was just for a while
anyway.

Quidditch practice was held, but Harry felt only be vaguely optimistic about the new members.
McGonagall had indeed made Ron a captain and that had worked great so far. The red-headed boy knew
a whole lot about Quidditch band techniques. Inwardly Harry knew Ron needed something to be
occupied with when he and Hermione was training or doing something else together, something that
happened often during the days.

In Transfiguration they had used each lesson entirely on Animagi, but these lessons left Harry
in a bad mood because he still did not like his form. Hermione, and surprisingly enough Akin, had
helped Harry in Occlumency and he became better and better at it. Dumbledore had suggested that
Harry could try again with Snape, but Harry refused. He felt that practicing with the Not -So -
Nice or Clean Professor would only make things more difficult for him again and he did not want to
ruin the little progress he had so far.

The last day of September came with wind and rain - to all the castle inhabitants dismay. The
majority of them had planned to do the schoolwork outside before the summer ended, but those plans
had to be put on hold.

That day, Harry (with Akin around his wrist), Hermione and Ron were waiting for Draco in an
unused classroom. Neither of them wanted the Slytherin to join the DA since his motivation probably
was to spy on them and report to his father's friends, but there was clearly no change in the
threat and all of them knew that they had little choice than to do what the Slytherin Prince
wanted. Even Ron had stopped arguing against it, but only because he knew what was on stake. Harry
highly doubted they would ever be friends though.

The door to the classroom went up abruptly and in came Draco Malfoy, looking extremely pleased
with himself. He was alone, but he had his wand drawn and prepared to use it. Hermione shot Harry
an uncertain glance and Ron straightened his back a little and scowled.

“Let's begin,” said Harry warily. Draco found a chair and sat down on it with grace, as
though it was a throne rather than a normal, wooden classroom chair. Harry continued: “We're
here to discuss your involvement with the DA. We have decided that you can join, seen that you give
us all and any information about the threat and - of course - follow the same rules as everybody
else.”

The Slytherin rolled his eyes.

“Right,” said Harry stiffly, a little put out. “I guess this place is as good as any. Do
tell.”

“Well,” said Draco, smirking, “I do not know a whole lot, but I have overheard some things...
Therefore I know for a fact that you are going to be taken.” (Hermione tensed up) “They are not
really hiding their gloating, you see. In the end of the summer, we had company for dinner. Many of
the Dark Lord's inner circle of course, but I am not telling you who that is... Anyway, that
night they were all in a really good mood. They kept bragging on how the Dark Lord's plan was
perfect and there was simply no way he would not get you by the end of the day.”

A heavy silence followed and all of them showed different reactions. Harry felt nervous and
anxious to know more, Ron seemed furious and barely in control of himself, Hermione looked like she
was about to have a nervous breakdown and Draco seemed to be enjoying himself.

“What more do you know?” asked Harry. His voice dry.

“Not much more, except that Bellatrix was mentioned. From what I heard I believe she will pick
you up herself.”

“*Pick me up?”* asked Harry incredulously, his blood suddenly boiling with anger at the
mention of the mad woman who had killed Sirius. “You're saying that she's just going to -
STROLL IN - and take me?! *Just like that?!* No. No, no, no! *Definitely not!* It's
not going to happen!”

“Sorry to break it for you,” said Draco sarcastically and snorted, “but you probably will be.
They were quite sure of themselves.”

Harry spluttered.

“How?” Hermione spoke up and gave a warning glare to Ron who was sitting at the edge of the
chair, ready to attack any moment.

“I do not know *that*. Do you really think they tell me everything?!”

“What will she do, you know, to get me?” asked Harry, trying to ignore the insult to Hermione
and focus on the task they had in front if them instead.

“She is going to be dirty. I reckon you should expect the worst, she is not entirely...
sane.”

A new silence.

“When is the next meeting?” asked Draco when he saw that the news had begun to sink in a little
bit.

“Hang on,” said Harry suddenly, his brow furrowing. He had to be one hundred percent sure he had
not mistaken anything... “You're saying that no matter what I do, what *anyone* does,
they'll win? Isn't that a little... arrogant? I mean - there's bound to some sort of
protection around here! There'll be teachers and Aurors around, and then there's
Dumbledore. Bella escaped when Dumbledore came to our rescue last year. I do not -“

“Bella?” Draco interrupted, looking highly amused. “*Bella?”*

Harry did not even bother to blush. “Yes, whatever! Anyway, as I was saying, I don't think
anyone will take this lightly. They won't just let Bellatrix into the castle. Not to sound
precocious or anything, but I am after all the Boy Who Lived.”

“That's true,” said Ron, speaking for the first time that meeting.

Draco snorted again and sounded a little more impatient. “I do not know the details. I only know
that they have been celebrating and bragging and plotting ever since two weeks before the school
started and I got tired of it already after one day. They say that their plan is
`waterproof.'“

“Waterproof...” Harry echoed, and let the sound of it remain in his mouth. He did not like the
taste one bit. It felt as though he had already lost the fight.

Hermione turned to him and Harry felt guilty when he saw fresh tears drip from her eyes like a
broken crane. “I w-won't let them Harry, I won't!” she said, each word charged with such
compassion and love that Harry almost got tears in his eyes as well, “I'll- I'll tail you
everywhere, I doesn't matter where, I'll hide you if I have t-to! There's no way
I'm going to l-let them take you! We w-will figure o-out something, I promise!”

Draco rolled his eyes at this, but Harry ignored him. He felt so grateful for having a girl like
Hermione in his life that nothing else mattered.

Luckily it was still a month until Halloween. Just to have it confirmed Harry asked: “It's
on Halloween, right?”

“Yes, I believe it is. Although you can never know; Death Eaters are not exactly known for being
trustful.”

Harry was only half aware of Akins's soft hissing from his wrist and Hermione's attempts
to calm him and Ron at the same time. What if the Death Eaters succeeded? What would he do then? He
shot a glance at his two best friends. He could not imagine being somewhere unknown without them.
What would Hermione do? Would she move on and be together with someone else? Just the thought made
Harry's heart clench painfully and he felt sick. *No, she wouldn't do that, she
wouldn't...* however, should he not wish her to be happy? She would not be happy if she
stayed loyal to someone dead and Harry knew that the chance for him dying was more than likely.

That only succeeded in making him feel guilty as well. Was he really that selfish?

Draco did not have any more information and Harry realized that it had to be the first time he
had seen a Slytherin keep his word. They quickly arranged the time and date for the next DA
meeting; two weeks before the Gryffindor/Slytherin match. They did not give the Slytherin a coin,
however. They, as well as the rest of the DA members, had agreed that they would wait before doing
something like that and keep quiet about it.

Everything in order, they got up and went out of the classroom. Harry was just about to take
Hermione's hand when he felt something prick in the back of his neck and he got a rather uneasy
feeling in his stomach.

“Get down!” he ordered quickly, taking his arms around Hermione in a swift motion and dived to
the ground. His arms cushioned the fall, but she was still taken by surprise.

“Harry, what-?” she asked, but when she looked around she muttered a soft “oh,” instead. Both
Draco and Ron had been knocked out cold, not able to react fast enough. Harry rolled to his feet,
and faced McClaggan, who smirked.

“Not bad, Potter. I see your reflexes have gotten better.”

“Thanks Professor,” said Harry, although still weary. The Professor loved to take him by
surprise, especially after the Sneakoscope incident.

“Headmaster's office, now,” the professor ordered and Harry was taken aback against his
will. What had he done wrong now? He had not even used magic in the corridor!

“What?”

“The Headmaster wish to speak with you.”

“Oh, okay. Can Hermione come?”

McClaggan shook his head negative. “No, not this time. Let's go, Potter.”

“What about-“ Harry started, thinking about Ron and to some very small extent, Draco.

“Nah, just leave them there, they deserve nothing less. This way they will be more vigilant next
time.”

Harry shot Hermione an apoplectic look, but she mouthed a `don't worry' to him and
turned to the motionless students on the ground, no doubt to wake them as soon as Harry and the
professor was out of sight.

Harry dutifully followed McClaggan the way to Dumbledore's office, wondering what this was
all about. He would not be surprised if it had something to do with the Threat though, the way they
had been looking at him lately.

On the way the passed the old, ragged Mr. Filch, who was patting his cat Mrs. Norris.

“You almost caught the hairy beast, didn't you girl?” he asked and Harry was somewhat
disgustedly reminded of Mrs. Figg. “Nothing to be ashamed of, I still love you. You'll catch it
some other time, I'm sure.”

Harry failed in suppressing a shiver. He had always known that the caretaker was weird, but this
took the icing of the cake! He could not believe the Mr. Filch talked about catching students with
his cat like that! Why Dumbledore insisted on having a man like that in the castle was beyond
Harry.

McClaggan followed him the whole way up and Harry was surprised to see not only Dumbledore, but
also McGonagall, Snape, Tonks, Moody and Remus there as well

“What's-” asked Harry, perplexed.

“Sit down Harry,” said Dumbledore, and pushed his Half-Moon Spectacles higher up on his nose.
Harry complied. “As I am sure you have noticed, tomorrow is the first of October and only 31 days
until Halloween. Because of that, we feel that increasing your safety is necessary.”

Harry suppressed a sigh, he had expected this and he knew he could not complain. For all he knew
the “increased safety” could save his life...

“That's where we come in,” said Tonks proudly, interrupting (without knowing) Dumbledore.
“For three weeks, one of us will follow you around to all times. Then, the last week, at least two
of us will watch over you at the same time.”

“All of you?” asked Harry uncertainly, looking at Snape who shot him an unpleasant look in
return.

“Even I, to some extent,” said Dumbledore, either not noticing or caring that Harry and Snape
did not like each other any better than they had before. “Alas, I need to keep up with my
Headmaster duties at the same time so I will only make an appearance if there is a problem.” Harry
nodded. “What if I don't get caught, though? Maybe they're just trying to scare us?” Fat
chance.

“The first three days we'll keep the same protection as we did the last days before
Halloween. With other words; at least one of us will follow you around, perhaps two. If you are
still here then we will have a new meeting. Any objections?”

Harry suddenly had a feeling that there was something important he needed to say, something dead
important, that needed to be taken care of immediately. But what was it? The meeting with Malfoy?
No, that could not be it, there had to be something else... oh, if only he could remember!

He was suddenly aware of that everyone were looking at him, waiting for an answer and he felt a
little uncomfortable.

“Oh, no. Thank you.”

“No problem,” said Remus and winked. “I suppose the gift to Hermione went well?”
Harry blushed. “Yes Remus, it did.”

“How about we chat up a bit in my old office?”

“That'll be nice,” said Harry, after an approving look from McClaggan who had the office at
the moment. Snape and McGonagall; seeing that there were nothing left to discuss, left the office
without any other words. Lupin got up to follow Harry out.

“Nice to see you again, Harry!” said Tonks enthusiastically, almost knocking some of
Dumbledore's fragile instruments over. “I'll watch over you after R.J is done.”

`R.J?' Harry wondered, but then realized that she meant Remus, who had `John' as a
middle name. He laughed. “Thanks Tonks.”

“Constant Vigilance, Potter!” added Moody as they closed the door.

Someone never changed.

-

-

Chatting up with Remus was a pleasant experience. Harry realized that there were little he
actually knew about the Werewolf. One thing was for sure though; Remus really had been one of his
father's best friends. Apparently, his father and Remus got friends in their second year when
Remus had helped Sirius and James out of a tight spot. At that time Remus had been friends with
Peter, so when Sirius and James got friends with Remus they got friends with the traitor too.

Harry still found it hard to talk about Sirius, but it was easier than it had been a month ago.
It felt comforting to talk about his Godfather with Remus, because he knew how Harry felt better
than anyone else. Hermione was very understanding and comforting and all, but she had not really
lost anybody she had been close too. She still had her parents, she had not known Cedric and Harry
suspected she never really got to know Sirius either. Not that Harry wanted her to lose someone
close to her of course, far from it.

Harry introduced Akin to Remus and Remus was greatly surprised. After some thoroughly inspection
though the older man came to the conclusion that Akin was not an ordinary snake, however, why the
Werewolf could not put his finger on. Harry asked Akin about it, but the snake just snickered and
refused to answer.
”Impossible to get a straight answer from him,” Harry half - joked to Remus.

“He is a snake though... it's a reason the Slytherin house has a snake for mascot, you
know,” Remus half-joked back and they both laughed. It was not very funny, but it felt good to
laugh nonetheless. Especially in that time they were living in.

“Oh Harry, be careful, would you?” asked Remus suddenly, worry written in his eyes. Harry
squirmed under his gaze.

“Of course...”

“I mean really careful,” said Remus, looking at him intently without blinking. “Don't play
the hero as you tend to-“

Harry got angry at once. “I'm not trying to-“

“I know Harry, and I also know that helping others is a part of your nature. We all love you for
it. I love you for it!”

Harry did not know what to say so he said nothing, but somewhere in his mind he registered what
Remus had just said. Someone loved him, and that was not exactly a thing he had heard a lot in his
life.

He did not feel angry anymore, only defeated. He did have a thing for saving people...

“Do you promise?” asked Lupin, not wanting to drop the topic.

“Yes,” said Harry, “but you need to promise the same thing too.”

Remus looked at him curiously and Harry quickly added: “Sirius died because Voldemort knew he
meant a lot to me. I would not be surprised if he went after you next. I - I don't want to lose
you too.”

“Oh Harry,” said Remus and gave Harry a gentle hug. “I'll be careful... and I'll always
be there for you. Just remember that people die in war. It's just the way it is. Hopefully
Voldemort is vanquished soon.”

Harry's stomach dropped painfully as he remembered the Prophecy. Remus apparently did not
know.

“Remus?” he said, with a strangled voice. “There's something I need to tell you.”

“Is there anything wrong?”

Harry forced a laugh. “Yeah, that's one way to put it...”

“Fire ahead then,” said Remus and sat down, resting his head in his hands and looking at Harry
with great concentration. Harry drew a huge breath and began to tell Remus Lupin all about the
Prophecy.

-

So far Harry had only told Hermione about it, and telling the former Professor about the
Prophecy had helped a lot. Still, Harry noticed that when he told people about it, he felt a bigger
pressure on him to end it all soon. Especially when he knew that he was the only one who could do
something about the attacks that still came regularly.

The next week was tough for Harry. Always having a teacher or an Auror around was like a
constant reminder of Voldemort and Halloween. Besides, he could never do anything but sleeping and
go to the toilet by himself. They followed him everywhere; when he had classes they would stand in
the back, when he went to the meals or to the common room they always kept themselves close by,
when he ate they stood by the end of the table... the only exception was Snape, who naturally kept
himself as far away as possible without breaking his promise to Dumbledore. He was the only one who
would let Harry breathe and have some freedom. Tonks, however, had great fun changing to a blue
eyed bimbo and flirting with him every time other people were around, receiving the end of many
stares.

Harry could also tell that Hermione took great annoyance of this as she too followed him
everywhere with a slight frown and was constantly on the edge. Whether or not that was because of
Tonks or because of her promise the week before he could not tell, nor did he ask. He was worried
though, because her normal perfect performance in class had gone down a notch, and it would be a
lie to say that she did not care.

-

-

The October the 7th Harry had a new appointment with McClaggan as usual, and Hermione
and Akin were with him. However, as soon as they stepped into the office Harry realized that the
DADA professor had something special in mind, since all the lights were out.

He was not wrong.

“This time we are practicing `Training Technique.' Technique is extremely important in a
duel, and could mean the difference between life and death.” McClaggan let the news sink into him a
bit before continuing.

“Now, Ms. Granger, this time I do not wont you to be on my side as usual, but on Harry's.”
Harry frowned in confusion. “However,” said McClaggan, looking at Hermione with a smirk, “I do not
want you to do any magic, so give Harry your wand.”

“But-!” said Hermione, her eyes wide-open. “I need my wand to defend-!“

“Harry is going to defend you, my lady.”

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it again and shot Harry an incredulous look.
“*You're* going to defend *me?”*

“Apparently,” Harry snapped back, not liking her tone although he could understand why she was
nervous. He was in fact nervous himself. He could not move as freely as normal when he had to
protect others.

The classroom was still dark and Hermione hesitantly gave her wand to him, letting him pocket it
away safely.

“Let's begin,” said McClaggan and bowed shortly. However, before Harry could do the same
McClaggan had already started the duel with a stunner, that was not directed to Harry but to
Hermione, who barely managed to dodge it.

*“Harry!”* she hissed.

“Sorry!”

“FOCUS POTTER! Do not let your attention wander!” shouted McClaggan and shot a new stunner,
towards Harry this time.

“Protego!”

“DON'T STEP ON YOUR HEELS!”

“I'm not!” said Harry, but McClaggan did not hear him because he had already fired another
curse towards him. Not seeing what it was Harry had no choice but to dodge.

“ATTENTION!”

Harry made sure he had Hermione behind him most of the time, where he could protect her to some
extent at least, but it was not easy because then he could not dodge so much as he would have
liked.

“EXPELLIARMUS!” he shouted and McClaggan reflected it with a Protego. Harry reflected it back
and the disarming spell hit the wall to McClaggan's left.

“*Incarcero*!” shouted McClaggan and Harry was ready to reflect the binding spell, but in
the last second the professor pointed his wand a little to the side instead and the spell captured
Hermione.

“Finite!” said Harry quickly before McClaggan could do something else, and the roped
disappeared. Luckily the spell was not too strong.

Hermione shot him a look and nodded towards the professor, as though telling him to pay
attention. Right then McClaggan fired another spell:

“AVIS!” he shouted, and Harry suddenly had to deal with a herd of attacking, small birds with
sharp beaks.

“IMPEDIMENTA!” shouted Harry and they fell to the ground. However, he knew that was only
temporary. “Hermione!” he called, not sure about what to do next.

“*Burn them*!” she shouted, and Harry did:

“*Incendio!”*

McClaggan, however, had a nice opportunity to plan his next attack:

“*Conjuntivio! Petrificus totalis! ACCIO MS. HERMIONE GRANGER!”*

“*Protego! Protego!* Pro - what?” Harry was caught completely off guard and to his surprise
Hermione shot out from behind him - knocking him over in the process - and straight to
McClaggan's waiting grasp. Angry, the professor pushed her away again and she landed roughly on
the floor.

“Had I been a bad guy right now, a Death Eater for instance,” he said, glaring ugly, “then she
would have been dead by now. Do not let *anything* catch you off guard! And do not forget to
have your legs further apart AND YOUR HEELS UP FROM THE FLOOR!”

Harry swallowed with difficulty and ran over to Hermione, who now was in a sitting position.

“I'm so sorry! Are you okay?” he asked and lifted her up gently by the shoulders. She nodded
her head and smiled, although a little shaken.

“Yeah. He's right though; I wouldn't have much of a shot without a wand.”

“Don't say that,” he said, a little offended even though he did not have the right to,
“There's nothing you can't do and you know it!”

“You're sweet,” she said, and Harry half - wondered if that was good thing since he was a
boy, “I know you won't let anything happen to me if you can prevent it.”

Meanwhile McClaggan was tapping his foot. “Done soon? If you keep going like that then we'll
soon have one more person to take care of.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry, confused, but Hermione - who obviously had caught the joke -
gasped:

*“Professor!”*

McClaggan barked a laugh. “Just kidding, just kidding... now, where were we? Ah, yes, fighting
technique.

“Potter, you need to attack more, even though you have one to defend besides yourself. When you
do nothing but defend you will not have the upper hand because you would let the opponent decide
how to play the game. Trust me - you do not want that to happen! He or she will tire you out and it
gives the attacker an advantage to plot other things to take your guard down. I have yet to hear
about a duel where one who only defended him - or herself won. This should be obvious by now and
you better do your best to learn. We both know that you will fight for your life sooner or
later.”

Harry took this information to heart and nodded, but he still did not get the joke and that was
bothering him. “Yes professor.”

They continued the lesson with powerful cutting and punching spells, which Harry was getting
better and better at. McClaggan also promised that next lesson he would take Harry and Hermione out
to teach them how to Apparate. (Hermione had turned seventeen and Harry was a special case. Ron,
poor guy, had to wait.) Harry looked forward to take the license and did not feel very nervous
about it. He was afraid that something would go wrong of course, but the fact that he had done it a
couple of times before with an accident comforted him. The professor also told Harry that it was
best to get it over with as soon as possible. If they were lucky Harry would be able to do it until
Halloween and then he had a new potential way to escape.

They also had a new duel and this time Hermione paired up with McClaggan and was allowed to use
a wand again, much to her delight. Harry knew he could beat her in a duel, but when she and
McClaggan paired up against him he could only last for about five minutes. It was not bad, but
Harry knew he should be able to do better.

In the end Harry was nothing short of exhausted and was ashamed to admit so when he saw that
McClaggan had hardly broken out a sweat.

“Stop whining and go and get yourself a shower then, for Merlin's sake,” was the comment he
got back, but he shrugged the remark off.

Hermione looked tired too, though she had a much easier time than he had. She did not want to
hold his hand on the way out though.

“Don't,” she said, “I know you mean well and all, but I'm so stressed out right now. We
have that huge potion assignment tomorrow and a three foot essay on how to register as an Animagus,
and we haven't even started!”

Harry looked wide-eyed at her, but realized it was his fault. They had practice together every
day, did all their homework together when they had the time and Hermione had even more classes than
he had. They did not have so much homework as they had had the last OWL year, but with the DA, the
lessons with McClaggan, the threat from Voldemort, Occlumency and not to mention the normal
classes, Harry also had Quidditch practice and Hermione prefect duties. Homework had simply been
put aside for more important things. Harry dreaded Halloween, but at the same time he looked
forward to it (as long as he did not get taken of course) because then he could use his time on
other things than prepare for a fight that would later decide his life.

Harry handed Akin over to Hermione, she had became quite fond of the little one. Secretly, Harry
knew Akin considered them - in a weird, and slightly perverse way - as his parents, probably since
they were the first thing he had seen in the world. Harry wondered how well Akin knew them, when
the snake was even capable to help him with Occlumency. Harry could not forget what Lupin had said;
just looking at how Hermione would defend Akin made him wonder how much of it really was a
coincidence.

Walking as far away from McClaggan as they were allowed, Harry whispered to Hermione:

“What was the joke about anyway?”

Hermione flushed deeply. “Why, Mr. Potter, has no one ever told you about `the Birds and the
Bees?'”

Harry gaped at her. “*What?”*

Hermione gave him a stern look. “Be quiet, he's right behind us. He's going to tease us
forever if he hear us talking about it! Unless you want `the talk?'”

Harry shook his head violently and they did not say anything more until they reached the
portrait of the Fat Lady where McClaggan bid good bye to them. Tonks was waiting inside.

“Wotcher, Harry!”

Harry and Hermione, however, did not acknowledge her this time. With a deep sigh they sat down
on the couch in front of the fire to finish their homework.

- .

-->



20. The Final Countdown
-----------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me... except, perhaps, a small, tiny part of the plot.

**A/N****:** This chapter is longer than normal too, about 60 per cent, though you may
wonder what normal is by now... tell me what you think! It means a lot.

I also have a new beta. His name is Matthew and he is really good. You'll see him in the
forum under the name Aurabolt.

**-**

Ch20: **THE FINAL COUNTDOWN**

We're leaving together

But still it's farewell

And maybe we'll come back

To earth, who can tell

I guess there is no one to blame

We're leaving ground

Will things ever be the same again?

It's the final countdown…

(- The Final Countdown - Europe)

A week later Harry had a hard time finding sleep. He was starting to feel anxious and was afraid
to sleep after just witnessing another vision from Voldemort the last night.

He did not want to have them anymore.

By the window Akin was sleeping peacefully and Harry smiled. He felt very committed to that
snake... ironic as it was.

Just as he thought it, Akin opened his eyes and gazed at him.

“*Hi,”* said Harry in Parseltongue. “*Did I wake you?”*

*“No,”* said Akin, still gazing at him. *“Do you have sssomething on your mind? You
ssseem troubled.”*

Harry grinned more widely*. “Your mother said something like that once.”*

Akin paused. *“Mother? When?”*

*“The night I got you.”*

*“I sssee. I wish I could have ssseen her, but I care a lot about you and your human. Ssshe
isss like a mother to me.”*

*“Yes,”* said Harry, bathing in the memory of Hermione. *“She is the most wonderful
person I know.”*

Silence.

*“Do you think she will leave me?”* asked Harry suddenly, feeling a little anxious. He had
gotten the feeling lately and it was scaring him.

*“We sssnakes usssually do not have lifelong partnersss... We ha**ve one for mating
ssseasssonsss* *and then we move on. But it ssseemsss different from you humansss.”*

Harry laughed softly. *“Yes, it is a bit different... but there is some people who do as you.
Change females I mean.”*

Akin seemed amused, but then he dropped his head slightly. *“Show me my mother?”*

Harry nodded and thought back to the time in Grimmauld Place where he had called the golden
serpent. He thought back to how she had looked, how her eyes had been green like his and how the
scales on its skin had reflected the light. He wished he could remember his own mother like that...
everybody seemed to keep him away from learning anything about his parents.

He had became so much better in Occlumency that he could focus on two things at once now. Of
course, Hermione was the only human person he had tried it with, so he had no idea how his
so-called Occlumency would work with an experienced Legilimens.

Akin seemed to drink from his memory a little, before he pulled back and was quiet. Harry let
him alone with his thoughts, and before long he finally felt sleep coming to him. This time he took
extra care in protecting his mind, praying that it was enough to keep Voldemort out for at least
one night.

-

Harry felt very tired the next morning, but happy nonetheless since he had actually gotten
through the rest of the whole night without any visions or disturbing and daring dreams about
Hermione...

When he got down he was surprised to see Dean and Seamus looking tired as well. Dean was,
naturally, still upset about his family and avoided Harry's eyes, but it did not explain
Seamus' appearance.

Harry shook his head and decided to ignore it; he had morning classes and wanted to eat a little
before he did anything else.

However, as he waited impatiently for Hermione to show up, Seamus approached him:

“Harry? We need to talk to you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more as he followed him and sat down in an empty
armchair.

“It's about that snake of yours,” said Seamus and licked his lips. Harry was immediately
suspicious.
”What about him?”

“We don't want him there, it's creepy.”

“Yeah, too much Slytherin, I say,” Dean voted in.

Harry scowled. “But he can't leave, he has nowhere else to go!”

“Technically, we could *make* him go,” said Seamus, who had obviously thought it through
well. “You already own an owl and you're only allowed to have one pet at Hogwarts. We can just
drop him outside the Slytherin common room where he belongs.”

“You wouldn't!” said Harry, horrified that he might lose his new friend that he had promised
to take care of.

“Not yet, but we could... at least consider it, we don't want to be around that thing.”

“He's not dangerous!”

“He will be when he get older.”

“Not if I tell him not to!” said Harry, outraged and barely keeping control over himself.

“You better, or we'll take this case to McGonagall.”

“What about me?” said someone from the corner and Harry whirled around and faced no other than
McGonagall in person. *She had to be his guard for the morning*, he realized with more than a
little bitterness. *How much had she heard?*

Seamus did not look surprised though. “Hi there professor. We were just talking about what we
will cover the next Transfiguration lesson... we're really looking forward to it.”

McGonagall looked pleased. “Ready for breakfast, Harry?”

“Just waiting for Hermione, professor,” mumbled Harry grudgingly. A second later his bushy
haired girlfriend came down the stairs, looking quite muffled and distressed.

“I'm so sorry, Harry!”

“Whatever for?” asked Harry, she wasn't that late.

“For keeping you waiting when I promised to be by your side always! Oh, maybe we should've
slept in the same - oh, hi professor,” said Hermione, finally noticing McGonagall and blushed deep
red. “Sorry, didn't see you there.”

“That's quite alright, Ms. Granger. Let's go then.”

-

At breakfast they (McGonagall went up to get her own breakfast) met Neville, Parvati and Ron,
who were happily filling their stomachs with pancakes.

“Know what `Arry?” said Ron between a mouth-full, smirking a little. “You and Hermione are
supposed to meet with McClaggan and Moody in the Forbidden Forest this evening after classes. Good
luck!”

“Wait-!” questioned Harry. “Moody AND McClaggan at the same time? Merlin help us!”

Even Hermione looked a bit nervous. “At least there's two of them. The chance that both of
them being on the Dark Side is less likely that way.”

“I think we should be more concerned of one or both of them giving us a heart attack...
they're quite unpredictable,” mumbled Harry so only Hermione could hear, receiving a playful
smack on the hand for his comment.

Suddenly Ron dropped his head to the table with a clunk. “It's Care of Magical Creatures
again today! Two hours! I swear - it's almost as boring as History of Magic when we actually
have a peaceful animal that won't try to kill us.”

“Seriously?” asked Harry, feeling protective of his Giant-friend.

“No... but you can't say it's fun... everybody have seen a bloody Phoenix before
anyway!”

“I haven't,” said Parvati pointedly, and Ron shut his mouth.

They quickly shoved down the rest of the food and left the table, heading for the lesson with
Hagrid.

-

-

The lesson was quite uneventful, and Harry could not help but agree with Ron to some extent. As
predicted (though Ron may have heard it from someone else) they did indeed have about Phoenixes and
Harry was even asked to talk about some of his “adventures,” that he only did because he did not
want Hagrid to feel betrayed. Luckily Harry had mind enough to bring Akin with him and he could
safely watch his baby snake looking for bugs to eat. When he had to entertain the class he had Akin
around his wrist for support.

Next class was Potions and with Hermione's help Harry managed to brew an acceptable potion,
even though he knew that Snape would find a reason to grade it bad no matter what he did.

Finally they ended the day with two hours Charms, but the days was far from over. They still had
Apparition left, and both of them did not know if they should feel excited or scared. McClaggan was
bad enough, but with Moody they had no idea what could happen.

-

They met right outside the Forbidden Forest and the adults arranged it so Hermione and Harry
went in the middle, McClaggan in the front and Moody in the back. All of them had their wands up,
but the way up to their Apparition point went fine. Harry and Hermione were both surprised to see
that their practicing point was at the same spot they had finally gotten together... after the not
so subtle confrontation between Harry and Draco.

Harry shot Hermione a smile and squeezed her hand which she squeezed back, though she looked a
little tense.

“Let's get started, shall we?” suggested McClaggan, and arranged them so they were standing
on the opposite side of each other. “Now, I want both of you to take a round around this clearing,
and get to know your area. Ignore each other.”

Harry sighed and did as he was told, keeping a half eye on Hermione who did the same thing as
he. He took great care to notice the details, every bush and every stone, though he doubted he
would remember it all or how much use it would be.

When both of them had walked the distance and were standing where they had started (Harry with
Moody and Hermione with McClaggan) they waited for the next instruction.

“Good, now I suggest we make a little game out of this.”

“Game?” asked Hermione, arching her eyebrows.

“Yes. I want both of you to race. Pretend you have Death Eaters in your heels if you have to.
What we want to accomplish is *accidental* Apparition. Have any of you done that before?”

Hermione shook her head, but Harry answered: “Yes, three times or so.”

“Interesting,” mumbled Alastor Moody and McClaggan nodded.

“Indeed. Ready?” (The teens nodded) “Set... *go!”*

Harry broke into a run and felt a little joy to get some of his ever-lasting nervousness out of
his body. He reached the end in no time; the clearing wasn't particular long. Hermione reached
her end a little after Harry did.

Moody grinned. “Looks like they need a little “push,” what do you say, Brian?”

McClaggan grinned back, his eyes glittering wickedly. “Kids, get over here.”

On guard, the Teenagers did as they were told.

“Now we are going to chase you,” said Moody, “however, we want both of you two stay inside this
clearing.” To prove his meaning, McClaggan performed a spell that framed the clearing with blue
flames. Harry was slightly reminded of his confrontation with Quirrel in his first year, and
didn't like it. The matter that the two professors *could* be working for Voldemort
didn't make matters less alarming.

“We are going to use whatever curse or hex we want to... except the Unforgivables of course,”
said McClaggan with a slightly sarcastic voice, that sounded a little wicked. A little gust of wind
blew on his face, what made him look even more unpredictable.

*Great*, thought Harry, and felt Hermione sneak on of her arms around his waist.

“Ready?” asked Moody, and Harry wanted nothing more than to say no, “Set...” Harry held his
breath and stiffened his muscles, “go!”

On the signal Harry span around, grabbing Hermione's hand and sprinted towards to other
side, changing directions often so they would be a harder subject to catch.

“Harry, wait!” panted Hermione, and jumped when some of the ground beside them exploded by a
*Reducto* curse. “They're using *that* spell?” she questioned, and speeded up.

However, the two adults didn't make it easy for them. While Moody had fired curses McClaggan
had apparated somewhere to their left, and started to fire curses from there.

Harry and Hermione had no choice but to turn right, but suddenly Moody apparated in front of
them, scaring both of them so much that Harry felt his feet leaving the ground. For a moment
everything went black and he felt a little wind press against his face, and he realized that he had
made it... he had apparated. A second later he appeared right next to the spot where they had
begun, however, somehow he was still holding Hermione's hand, who had squeezed her eyes shut
and were whimpering quietly.

“Hermione! Are you alright? You're not - you're whole, aren't you?” Harry looked her
over worriedly, but couldn't see anything wrong. She slowly opened her eyes.

“Oh...” she said, clearly confused herself, “that felt funny. Scary and strange, but a little
comforting too. I wonder...” Two *pops* were heard on front of them.

“Which one of you Apparated?” asked Moody.

“Me,” said Harry, wondering if they had to be chased more.

“Curious,” said McClaggan, “you're way in front of us boy, taking someone with you and still
manage to appear whole. Can you do it by will?”

Harry shrugged. “I don't know...”

“Give it a go then!” urged Moody, looking a little excited that made his face look even more
wrinkled and damaged. Harry did as he was told and started to focus... it was harder to do it by
will though and he had to seriously concentrate on the feeling he had just felt and where he wanted
to go.

Minutes passed, but he didn't manage it. The more time that went the more exasperated he
became. Finally he stumped his foot angrily and jumped into the air, and felt a whoosh of joy when
he felt himself appear on the other side. *He had made it!*

However, he could not see very clearly and he felt much colder now, as he felt the cold air on
his skin. *Skin!*

With horror he realized he had left his glasses and clothes behind. *He was naked!*

“*Turn around!”* he yelled, and quickly summoned his equipment. “*Turn!”*

He quickly dressed and walked the way back, blushing furiously all the way. Hermione blushed
like crazy as well when she saw him and closed and opened her mouth several times before deciding
to say nothing at all and stare into the ground.

However, McClaggan seemed to bristle with laugher and Moody looked highly amused.

“You're lucky we are somewhere private, Mr. Potter.” Harry nodded. “Your turn, Ms.
Granger.”

“Me?” squeaked Hermione, looking like she wanted to hide somewhere or sink in the ground. “D-do
I have to?”

“Yes,” was the curt answer she got, and she had no choice but comply. However, since she had not
been the one to Apparate she had to be chased around again.

Harry sat down on the ground and patently waited for the practice to end, feeling that it might
take a while.

-

A while it took indeed. Hermione had to be chased around for twenty minutes before they made any
progress and she had to take two Pepper-Up potions so she wouldn't tire herself to death. Harry
felt bad for her, but there was nothing he could do.

Harry had gotten some more training as well, while McClaggan practiced with Hermione Moody went
over to him, trying to get him to Apparate again. This time he managed to keep his clothes on,
though his glasses were left behind once again. They practiced until he had gotten it right and was
comforted by Moody when the Almost-Professor said that Apparating by will was much harder than to
Apparate by accident, and only a few wizard grasped the technique as fast as Harry had done.

After the practice they went back to the castle, where they met up with McGonagall.

“Have you corrected our latest test yet, professor?” asked Hermione, looking a little nervous,
though Harry couldn't understand why she had a reason to be.

“Yes, I have... I'm sorry Ms. Granger, though it is a wonderful accomplishment you only
managed to answer 91 per cent of the answers correctly. However, there is nothing to be ashamed of,
you're still the best in class.”

“What about me, professor?” asked Harry, wanting to get the attention away from Hermione when he
saw how upset she was.

“87 per cent, Potter, not bad at all.” The Professor looked at both of them pointedly and they
started to walk the rest of the way. Sometimes Harry heard Hermione mutter; “I can't believe
this, I can't believe this...” over and over, but he didn't know what to do about it so he
let it be. He was sure she'd do her usual best the next test.

-

-

Ron had used a lot of time with Luna and surprisingly Lavender and seemed pleased with it, at
least for the time being. He also used a little time with Neville, whose confidence had grown
immensely, especially with his new wand and the knowledge that he had helped the Harry Potter
against a bunch of Death Eaters, while still being alive to tell the tale...

Harry had finally began to manage Occlumency properly and could now successfully block his mind
for Akin, Hermione and probably even Snape. He didn't know about Dumbledore yet, but he had the
feeling that he could do that too before long. He practiced Occlumency every night and the visions
from Voldemort stopped completely, much to Harry's delight. He couldn't stop his scar from
hurting from time to time, but it was a far cry from what he had expected to manage by then. Now he
could stand up in the mornings and actually feel rested, and that alone helped him a bunch. The
lesson with McClaggan followed as they usually did every day, but now both of them were more
impatient than ever. If Harry didn't manage one thing before an hour they would just move on to
the next spell or curse and practice some more on them instead. They had little time to lose.

-

The next DA lesson, the 20th of October, everybody - especially Harry - felt tense,
and that resulted in the hardest lesson yet. Harry pressed all of them so hard that many of the
girls started to cry in exasperation, and he was short-tempered and snappy to everyone he saw.
Nobody - except Malfoy - complained though, they understood the pressure he was under. Hermione
looked like she had a lot to say to him, but she kept quiet almost whole the time, following Harry
silently while biting her lip. Even “their time” together - as they've grown accustomed to call
it - felt tense, despise all of their attempts to not think about Halloween.

That day, however, was a day Harry had not been looking forward to. At noon, instead of classes;
he, Ron, Dumbledore, and Hermione were to take a Portkey to Diagon Alley. There they were due to
meet Tonks and Remus and go to the Wizarding bank Gringotts to take care of Harry's Will.

Yes Will, they couldn't avoid it. Harry was the last one in the Potter line as far as anyone
knew, and if they did nothing the money would probably go to the Dursleys. The whole Wizarding
world that had some kind of communication to the rest of the world, especially Harry himself, knew
that the Dursley didn't deserve that amount of money and would probably waste them away. That
thought was the only thing that in the end finally convinced Harry to accept it.

At the bank they met an old Goblin named Dippelhook, who led them to a privet room. The room was
quite fancy; with a large, dark and polished table in the middle, over a red and fluffy carpet,
that would spit out small, harmless flames from time to time. All around them Harry saw bookshelves
with file after file, and he wondered if all Wills were kept there. He voiced his question, but
Dippelhook assured him that the files he saw was only copies, and that the real ones were kept in
the appropriate vaults where they belonged.

Once that was settled, all of them sat down by the table.

“Okay, let's begin this,” said Dippelhook and took a quill out from his pocket. Then he
summoned a box from one of the shelves and opened it. “The Will of Harry James Potter.”

As he said that Hermione shuddered violently and a little sob escaped her. Harry placed a hand
on her back to show support and he felt the delicate bones in her back rise and fall silently as
she tried so stifle her sobs.

“Now, now, Ms. Granger, this is merely a formality,” Dumbledore tried to assure her, but he
looked sad as well and his eyes didn't have the usual spark in them. Ron glanced over at them
from the other side of the table, opened his mouth and then closed it again. Harry shot him a
questioning look (he welcomed every chance he had to be distracted), but the Weasley just shrugged
as if to say it was nothing.

“Can you, Harry James Potter, confirm that you are the one you say you are, and came here
willingly?” Dippelhook continued.

“Yes,” said Harry hoarsely.

“A drop of your blood, please,” the Goblin commanded and Harry gave Dumbledore his hand. The old
man took out his wand a softly muttered a spell that made a little cut in his palm, and a few red
drops fell to the paper. Hermione quickly grasped his other hand and refused to let it go.

The rest of the procedure was pretty easy. The Goblin asked what Harry would like to give to
whom and how much. It was decided that Lupin, Ron and Hermione would split his money, Ron would
take his Firebolt, Hermione his part of Grimmauld Place, books and other personal items, and Remus
would take the Motorcycle from Sirius. Remus instantly promised that if the worst would happen they
could ride the bike anytime they wanted, and at that point Hermione could take no more and started
to cry for real this time and didn't stop until they were out of the bank and back in safety at
Hogwarts.

-

The remaining days of the months went away much more quickly than Harry preferred. The day
before Halloween he was nothing but a nervous wreck, despite all the watch he constantly had around
him. His protection increased from one to two, and the only time in the day he could be for himself
was when he slept or went to the bathroom, but even then they were never far away.

His training with McClaggan stopped, because he couldn't concentrate and was instantly
watching over his shoulder.

The day passed, and before he knew it there was only half an hour before midnight. He and
Hermione shared the couch in the Common Room together; their bodies so close together that one
could hardly tell them apart.

“I just wish I knew what they were planning,” mumbled Harry, turning his head slightly towards
Hermione and kissed her softly on the lips; enjoying how his body would heat up by the taste of
her. He knew he loved her now; and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

“Harry...” she said, clutching his shirt fiercely as they kissed. “Please...” Harry nodded
softly, and sank deeper down on the couch and pushed her to him, his hands pressed hard against her
back. Sometimes he could feel her tense and tremble slightly, but then he would kiss her harder,
more desperately, and the reality would avoid them a little longer. He didn't feel totally at
ease though because of their guards (that pretended not to notice), but it was worth it. He had
became so familiar with them that he didn't care much anymore.

“Harry...” Hermione tried again, panting a little bit. “Have you-?”

“No, I don't want to think about it, not now, just-“

“That's not what I meant... have you checked-?”

“Checked what?”

“The - the Marauders' Map?”

“Why would I-? *Oh.**”* Harry broke off the kiss and stared at her. Then he grinned
widely at her and said: “You truly are the most brilliant witch EVER! Simply brilliant! As soon as
someone that's not meant to be here enters the ground we'll see them!”

Hermione sat up. “Go and find it! Midnight is barely ten minutes away now.”

Harry grinned at her again, gave her a quick hug and jolted up the stairs to his Dormitory.

He was so excited that he almost missed the right door in, but as soon as he found the right
spot he started to go trough his things. *If only he could remember where he had hid it!*

Grumbling to himself, he emptied his school bag and continued searching. However, the map was no
where in sight.

*Where was it?!* Surely he hadn't left it somewhere? No, that couldn't be the case,
he was always careful to not leave it behind...

Getting desperate, Harry turned his whole trunk on the head and sorted through all the things he
owned. Still no map.

“How odd...” he said to himself, “it's gone...”

Suddenly it went up to him what it could mean. *Had somebody stolen it because... they wanted
him to be taken?* Feeling his stomach turn over, Harry quickly found his wand and cried: “ACCIO
MAP! ACCIO MAP!”

Why he had not thought about using that charm before was beyond him... it did no good, however,
the map did not come.

Now furious and scared, Harry bolted back down to stairs, stopping only a couple of feet before
the couch where Hermione was waiting for him.

“The map is gone!”

She looked up, and when she met his eyes her eyes widened in fear. “Gone? Are you... are you
sure?”

“Yes!” said Harry, feeling the panic rise in him and fill every inch of his body. “It's not
there! I've looked-”

“Sure you haven't just... misplaced it somewhere?” asked Hermione worriedly, biting her lip
and rose from the couch. She took a couple of hesitant steps forward, not completely sure if Harry
needed comfort or space to rant.

“Yes! Merlin, Hermione, what do we do now? How could someone take it like that?!”

“We'll think if something...” said Hermione softly, but suddenly Harry realized something
and abruptly turned around so he could get a complete view of the room, searching for some red.

“Only WE know about the map, `Mione!” he said. “We and Ron! Ron may have it! But where is
he?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don't know... I haven't seen him today.”

Then, the clock struck midnight. Halloween had began.

-

**Poll:** Shorter chapters and quicker updates or keep it the way it is now?

-->



21. Halloween
-------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

-

Ch21: **HALLOWEEN**

*Brown leafed vertigo, where skeletal life is known*

*I remember Halloween*

*This day anything goes*

*Burning bodies hanging from poles, I remember Halloween*

*Halloween, Halloween, Halloween, Halloween...*

*(Halloween by AFI.)*

Harry turned over in his bed and felt his arm connect with something smooth and warm. Not
thinking too much about it, he snuggled closer to the source, laying still until he had to brush
away something from his face. Only then did he become aware of the heavy weight that lay across his
chest. Startled, Harry realized that the arm belonged to someone and he opened his eyes quickly,
frozen in place. He then recognized the sleeping beauty beside him; her eyes closed with dark, soft
lashes around them. She had a slight pouting expression on her face as she slept, and Harry could
not keep a happy grin from spreading across his face.

Still half asleep, he stroked a hand over her cheek, her hair, her shoulders, and marvelled yet
again how he could be so lucky to have a girl like her in his life. She was everything he could ask
for in the world.

Snuggling himself even closer, he tried to keep that thought in mind so he did not had to think
about what was going on in the outside world. He returned his attention to Hermione and studied her
for several minutes, almost without blinking. Eventually she mumbled something in her sleep and her
eyes opened softly.

“Hi there,” she said sleepily and gave him a crooked grin, before she proceeded with rubbing the
sleep out of her eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” said Harry truthfully, amazing himself. “I can get used to this you know.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Don't expect it to become a habit, Potter,” she murmured in a bad imitation of Snape, and
her eyes shut themselves again.

Harry studied her a little while longer to see if she woke up again, but when she didn't he
realized that he couldn't avoid the real world any longer. Getting up, he showered and dressed
quickly. He didn't want his guards (three of them now) to worry and come looking for him. He
had a sneaking suspicion that Hermione would be highly embarrassed if they did.

After Harry was properly dressed, he went over to the window by his bed and looked out. The sun
was shining and the sea glittered brightly. Harry shook his head in disbelief; how could a day be
so shiny and happy when there was a great chance that he wouldn't live to see the end of it? A
lump formed in his throat when he realized what that would mean... he had thought about it of
course, but now he had so much more to lose. He no longer had the desire to end everything just to
see his parents and Godfather again.

Now, dying would not only mean to be parted with his friends, but his love too. The thought of
never seeing Hermione again was too frightening for him to even think about...

Clenching his fist, he knew that whatever it took he would never let Voldemort get his hands on
her.

Bending over her, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Wake up, Beautiful.”

“I'm awake... just a minute,” was the vague response he got, and he shook her shoulder
gently.

“Breakfast. We need to go before someone begin to search for us.”

“Alright, alright, I'm up...” said Hermione and slowly made her way out of the bed. Harry
smiled faintly and walked to the other side of the room, giving her the privacy she needed to get
dressed. He had, however, the opportunity to look in Ron's bed. The bed was empty, but had
obviously been slept in. That meant Ron had been there some time during the night and slept a
couple of hours before getting up again.

Harry made a mental note to search the redhead down as soon as possible.

-

Breakfast was a quiet affair. At first the whole student body seemed to be as nervous as Harry
was, but in the end they gave in to the beautiful day and what had to be the last, sunny day of the
year and decided to enjoy it as much as they could. Harry noted with relief that Ron was there, but
was disappointed to learn that the boy had no idea where the Marauders map was.

“Sure you haven't borrowed it? You've been away a lot lately,” asked Harry again,
looking at Ron desperately.

“Yes, of course I am! And it's not like you and Hermione want me around much.” Ron sat back
on the bench grumpily.

“That's not true, Ron,” said Hermione quietly, staring down at her plate. “We've just
had a lot to deal with.”

Ron sighed. “Yeah, I know. I think we'll all be happy when this day is over.”

“Yeah,” said Harry*, if he was still there.* They ate their breakfast quickly and then the
three of them (with three more bodyguards trailing behind: Moody, Tonks and Dedalus Diggle) went to
the Owlery to send a note to Hagrid, asking him to come and see them in the Gryffindor common room.
Harry wasn't allowed outside, but he wanted to talk to his friend and he didn't know any
other way to make that happen than asking the half - Giant by Owl post. He felt guilty for not
coming to see him more often.

Hagrid came right away; delighted that Harry wanted to talk to him, but also very worried.

“He's good protected, Hagrid,” said Hermione in an attempt to calm to man down, as Harry was
drowning in a crushing embrace from him. “I think you should let Harry breathe now!”

“Sorry,” said Hagrid and sniffed. “I know yeh're a big boy, `Arry.”

Harry just nodded, red in the face and trouble breathing. He would never compare Hermione's
hugs to be bone crushing again.

“Do yeh still have that pendant?”

“The Birthday present you gave me?” asked Harry, puzzled. He still had it, but whatever for?

“It is a portkey,” explained Hagrid like that should be the clearest thing in the world, calmer
now. “Just say `Norbert' and it'll activate an' take yeh ter Hogwarts.”

“Thanks, Hagrid,” said Harry gratefully, stifling a laugh.

Hagrid stayed with them until lunch. They couldn't ask him about Grawp because of
Harry's protectors, but they still had a lot to talk about. Hermione seemed much more at ease
with the man now as she didn't took his classes and didn't need to worry about them or his
teaching abilities.

Eventually Hagrid left to talk to Dumbledore, and the common room quieted down. The trio, Moody,
Tonks and Diggle were the only ones left, as the rest of the Gryffindors were either somewhere
around in the castle or playing outside in the sun. Harry couldn't help but envy them a little,
but he knew the price was too high.

-

They stayed in the tower for several hours. The sky darkened, and people began to come inside
again. Ron and Harry had played a couple of rounds with chess, and then he, Ron, Hermione, Parvati
and Neville joined together for some Exploding Snap. It was hard for Harry to concentrate, however,
and he didn't win once. It didn't help that his protectors were breathing down his neck,
not allowing him to forget about the Threat for one second. It didn't seem to matter to them
that he was inside a password protected tower in the safest castle in Britain. Still, Harry
remembered that Voldemort had been able to break into Gringotts and then he didn't even have a
body of his own and was pretty weak.

*So why wasn't something happening?*

He glanced at Hermione briefly and shot her a weak smile that she didn't return because she
was lost in her own thoughts and didn't notice.

Suddenly they heard screams from outside and Harry jolted up from his seat, his heart already
galloping so fast that he thought it might burst from his chest. He knew a real scream when he
heard one, and that scream definitely was.

McGonagall was already by the window, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh my...”

These words seemed to bring everyone else out of their frozen state and momentarily there was a
race to the nearest window. Harry was one of the first to get there since he was already up and
what he saw made him grit his teeth in anger. *How dared she!*

In the middle of the ground he saw no other than Bellatrix LeStrange, holding a sobbing, little
girl harshly by the hair while pointing a wand at her threateningly. Harry faintly recognized the
girl as a first year, but he didn't remember her name. He could also see some more children
running towards the castle, probably the girl's friends. He could hear they scream for
help.

Harry didn't have to be a genius to understand what the Death Eater wanted, and he also knew
that she would get it.

“Harry, *no.”* Harry turned his head and gazed into Hermione's wide, frightened eyes.
“You're not going.”

Suddenly, a magically heightened voice rang through the whole school. If people weren't by a
window by then they certainly were on their way to one now. The message was clear:

“GIVE ME POTTER, OR ELSE THIS GIRL DIES!”

Harry felt his heartbeats race up to his throat, making it hard to breath. He felt Hermione
gripping his shoulders hard from behind.

“Don't you dare go!”

Shaking slightly, but still surprisingly calm inside he turned to face her, memorizing how
beautiful she looked at that moment; her face and eyes were so full of concern for him, she had her
hair loosely around her shoulders, framing her face and reflecting the light from the window. She
looked into his eyes and paled when she saw that he had already made his decision... he was
going.

Harry cupped her face with the palm of his hand, wanting more than ever to say to her that he
loved her... but that wouldn't be fair. He loved her too much; he wanted her to be able to go
on with her life without him if necessary. Besides, he added inside himself, he could get away with
the portkey.

She leaned her face into his hand, tears streaming down her face.

“Don't go... don't do this to me, to us... you're not ready to win over the Dark
Lord yet... please...”

“I have to...”

“No!” she cried harder now, her voice more desperate, “you don't have to! You can't -
you'll lose-!”

“Ms. Granger is right, Harry,” said McGonagall softly. “You have to stay.”

Harry turned his attention from Hermione, looking at the professor seriously. “Professor-! That
girl - she has nothing to do with this! If I let her stay in the hands of that awful woman then
she'll die! That means yet another person have to die for me and that girl doesn't even
have a choice! That's not fair and I'm not sure if I can live with it.”

“Life isn't fair,” said Ron, unhelpfully.

“I can't stand doing nothing!” argued Harry. “Besides, I'll have that portkey Hagrid
talked about. Bella doesn't know that. I can just activate it as soon as the girl is in
safety.”

McGonagall seemed to consider this. “That's true. Do you have it?”

“Yes, it's in my room... Accio pendant!” he said, and soon the pendant was in his hand
safely. He quickly fastened it around his neck, comforted by its heavy weight.

“You're not letting him GO, professor?” asked Hermione, horrified. “You *can't!*
It's your *job-!”*

“It's our best shot, Ms. Granger,” said the professor, a defeated edge in her voice. “Only
Harry can save this girl, and he has a chance to get away again. We can't ignore that.”

Harry swallowed hard. He knew that his protectors would do everything in their power to protect
him, but he also knew that if he really wanted to go then they couldn't stop him. He took a
hesitant step backwards. His gaze never left Hermione's. “I'm sorry,” he said and turned,
beginning to go out of the Common room.

Hermione quickly followed him, trying in vain to hold him back as they walked towards the
entrance, where several more pupils and teachers were already lined up.

“NO! Don't go!”

“I WANT THE BOY NOW! *Crucio!”* Another voice zoomed through the air, followed by a set of
screams. The little girl was being tortured. Oh, how Harry hated that woman!

When he reached the front doors he saw Dumbledore and McClaggan. When they saw him their eyes
widened in surprise. Dumbledore laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.

“Are you sure about what you are doing?”

Harry nodded. “I have a portkey. I can use it as soon as the girl is safe.”

“Be careful,” said Dumbledore, with a proud glint in his eyes.

“Good luck, Mr. Potter,” said McClaggan. “Show her what you got.”

Harry nodded again, stepping outside the castle doors. The sun, low on the horizon, was orange
and warm, but didn't chase away the increasing coldness Harry felt inside or Hermione's
desperate pleads behind him, still trying to prevent him from going.

“If you go I'll never forgive you!” she finally called after him, and this time Harry
stopped. Did she mean it? He looked over his shoulder briefly and saw her looking at him, a
determent glint in her eyes. His breath caught in his throat and his head swam slightly as he
realized that she did mean it, every word. Her words felt like a stab in the heart and he knew that
if she couldn't forgive him then he had nothing to live for, because he was nothing without
her...

Yet he had to save that girl. *It is our choices that show what we truly are.* Sometimes
Harry wondered if he was too much of a saint for his own good...

Closing his eyes briefly to gather some courage, he began to cross the path between the Bitch
and his home. His arm was itching again, begging him to kill or at least torture her for what he
was worth. Suddenly he found it very hard to resist to do just that and he remembered all too well
what had happened the last time he saw her.

“Let her go, Bellatrix,” he said, his voice no longer harsh or wavering as he had to force
himself away from the temptation instead of being scared. Hermione's words didn't help the
matter. “I'm here now.”

Bellatrix smiled ruefully, and with a push she no longer held the girl. The girl scrambled
shakily to her feet and ran quickly towards Susan Bones who hugged her tightly, not looking back
once.

Bellatrix kept her eyes fixed on him, daring him to move more than one inch towards his wand.
However, as they kept looking at each other a plan was forming in Harry's mind. It was a crazy,
desperate plan, but it might work....

Finally she closed the rest of the distance between them and confidentially grabbed his arm,
holding him hard, reaching for something in her pocket... however, Harry was not to let himself
being captured that easily without a fight. He raised his other hand quickly, hitting her with all
his force and hatred across her face.

The impact burned his fist and she cried out, staggering a little. She lost the grip on his
hand. Then she turned to him, looking furious and mad, raising her wand to attack him back...
however, he was already all over her again, kicking, scratching and hitting her for all he was
worth. He knew he wasn't much of a fighter, but he also knew that he couldn't allow her to
get a good aim at him. His fist hit her in the center of her face and he managed to kick her in her
knee, making her howl out in pain.

“This is for Neville!” he yelled, hitting her again, before kicking her in the tummy. Furious
tears were running down his face now, but he did not take any notice of them. “This is for SIRIUS!”
Bellatrix fell down to her knees. “AND THIS IS FOR *ME!”* he said, rising his foot and kicked
her so hard in the shoulder that he fell backwards himself while the dark haired woman fell down to
the ground, unmoving.

He stared at her for a moment, not able to believe what he had just done. She wasn't dead,
was she?

But obviously she wasn't, because with a grunt she rolled over and looked at him with a pair
of mad eyes that seemed a little unfocused, spitting out blood. “You'll pay for this, Potter.”
Harry said nothing, trying to calculate if he should reach for his wand or run for it. However,
Bellatrix took the choice from him when she found what she had been looking for in her pocket and
disappeared. It took Harry a while before he managed to react and when he did he had trouble
believing it.

He blinked, but was soon laying flat on the ground laughing desperately; a laugh made of stress
and relief rather than fun and joy.

“Harry!” someone said, and when he turned his head he saw the person he wanted to see the most.
He didn't fail to notice Ron a little behind her either, red in the face. Getting up, he
managed to get his laughing under control just in time before Hermione flung herself over him,
squeezing him tightly and sobbing as though her life depended over it. Then her lips found his and
she kissed him hard.

Harry was a little surprised at first, but began to kiss her back just as fiercely. After a
moment she broke of, glaring at him and then smacking his face hard.

“*Ouch!”* he said, but the numbing feeling he had in his cheek was nothing compared to the
look she gave him now.
”I can't believe you left!” she hissed, before drying her tears with the palm of her hand. “I
mean, it was an amazing thing you did, saving that girl... I bet she'll be forever grateful.
But you can't keep doing it!”

He stared at her. “What?”

“Don't you see?” she exclaimed. “It's way too predictable! They know what buttons to
push, and you fall into their traps time after time!”

Harry didn't know what to say. He knew she was right, but how could she expect him to not do
anything?

“Mate,” said Ron, his face red and his hair in disarray. Harry smiled at him and gave him a
brotherly hug that the Weasley returned.

“Ron,” he said.

“Don't do that again.”

Harry just smiled helplessly, but as he did that Hermione turned on her heel and ran towards the
castle. “You reckon I should go after her?”

“Yeah,” said Ron, looking down at his shoes, clearly embarrassed to show emotions like that in
front of the whole school. Harry turned red as well; he had completely forgotten about them. He
peered after where Hermione had went longingly.

“I hope she'll forgive me.”

Ron looked doubtful. “I dunno mate, she looked quite pissed off.”

Harry gave the Weasley a dry smile and began to make his way back to the castle, doing his best
to ignore the people who tried to ask him questions, whisper and even touch him like that would
give them some kind of glory.

He did not feel glorious at all.

-

The Halloween feast was huge, delicious and magical as always, but Harry could not enjoy it as
much as he would have liked to. The adrenaline in his body was still pulsing through his veins and
the kept replaying the fight over and over in his mind. He smiled a little when he thought about
what The Dark Lord would or could do with Bellatrix. He didn't take failure easily and Harry
almost wished he could see it.

He kept waiting for his scar to burn, but it never did. When he thought about it his scar
hadn't hurt him at all since he began to master Occlumency properly. Akin was wrapped around
his wrist, telling Harry what kind of food from the feast that he would like to have taste on.
Harry gladly gave it to him; snakes didn't need to be fed often, but he wanted his little
friend to get as strong as possible.

Though the feast was huge and he felt as though half of the weight on his shoulders had been
lifted, he couldn't help but feeling there was something important he had forgotten.

Cautiously he glanced over at Hermione again, who was resolute in avoiding his eyes. Once he
asked her to pass him the juice, but even then she didn't look at him and just passed him the
can quietly. He suppressed a sigh. He knew he had to talk to her, but he didn't look forward to
it...

-

“Hermione, we need to talk.”

“Can't it wait till morning? I'm pretty tired right now.”

“No, it can't wait,” said Harry, blocking her way to the portrait outside the common room
she was trying to get in to. “Please `Mione.”

“Don't call me that!” she hissed. “Let me get inside!”

“Look at me,” said Harry. “I need to talk to you. Do you really want to go to sleep like
this?”

Hermione said nothing to that, but a flush in her cheeks told him that she was about to lose her
temper or start to cry. She was biting her lip and twisting her hands at the same time.

“What is it?”

“I-“ she started, “I think we should take a break.”

Harry stared at her. His attempts to stop her from getting inside were forgotten as he lost his
breath completely. “Why?”

“There's lot of things. It's my grades for one, they've been getting worse this
year. You heard what professor McGonagall said and Transfiguration is supposed to be a strong
subject for me. I'm doing worse in other classes too and it's getting too much. I can't
go on like this, even Ron has noticed that.

“I also need to get a little distance from you, Harry. We've been moving things pretty fast
in our relationship and the more I'm with you the more I'm afraid of losing you. And when
you just left today... I know you had your reasons, but so had that Bellatrix woman... it felt like
you were ready to throw all we had out of a window just because of that `saving people thing'
of yours and that scares me. I need more time for myself, at least for a while.”

Harry was silent, trying to figure out something to say. Somehow he felt that he was watching
himself from the side and everything seemed surreal. “We don't need to be together all the
time. It was just up until now, with Voldemort's threat and everything.”

“No, Harry. Maybe we can start over in a while, but we both need some time to think and sort
things through.”

“So you're breaking up with me,” concluded Harry numbly.

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Yes, I wanted it to work out too, more than anything... but the
time wasn't right. I'm really sorry.”

Strangely enough Harry felt anger blossom inside him. He knew better then to lash out on her
though, so he turned and left, making her way to the Fat Lady deserted.

After all, silence could often be the best revenge and then he didn't have to apologize
afterwards for something he said or done.

Harry's feet carried him automatically to the Room of the Requirement and the room provided
him a lot of breakable objects and some portraits of Hermione.

He used them well.

-

Harry went to bed that night half an hour before midnight, feeling numb and cold. If someone had
told him a day before that he would still be at Hogwarts after Halloween and feel worse, he doubted
he would've believed them. But he did. What did he have to live for?

Harry sighed and pressed his hands tightly over his eyes. The curtains around his bed gave him
some comfort, but not enough to make him feel better. He glanced over at his nightstand were Akin
slept and where he had the mirror that Sirius had given him, and that Hermione had the other part
of. He wanted nothing more than to talk to her; to tell her that he loved her and plead with her
until she said it back... however, she was probably still angry at him, he realized, and he would
have better chance to succeed if he waited until morning.

A morning that seemed far away.

Closing the curtain completely shut so he couldn't see the mirror, he felt his scar prickle
evilly in anticipation. *What was the Dark Lord planning now?* Harry wondered. *There was no
way Voldemort could be pleased about the event as it turned out. His* *most loyal Death Eater,
beaten* *by a kid.*

Harry smiled for a second, but he did not feel any better. On the contrary, the dark ball that
he had felt in his stomach all day seemed to be *increasing*, strangely enough.

He pondered over that for a moment, thankful for any excuse he had to avoid thinking about
Hermione. Eventually he felt sleep pressing in on him and he was just about to let it all go when
he heard a soft crack, like the sound of someone stepping on an unstable floor plank.

Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance, but laid still. The feeling of something that was not
right was all around him now and refused to go away.

Nervously he found his wand that he always kept beside his pillow and putted on his glasses.
Nothing happened, however, and the minutes went by in silence.

*This is ridiculous*, he thought to himself, glancing at the silver watch he had gotten in
his birthday present from Hermione. He hadn't added more names on it; it still had the names;
Hermione, Ron, Ginny and himself there. The thought of Hermione almost prevented him from seeing
what their names were on, but when he did he gasped: All of the names except himself were at
`school,' his, however, was at `danger.' But how could that be? Halloween had passed and
Voldemort was... feeling evil, Harry realized. The Dark Lord was waiting for something.

What was more, however, was that Halloween was not over. It was still fifteen minutes left.

Feeling his blood run cold, Harry sat stock-still. He suddenly had a great need to see his
protectors. He startled when someone turning over in bed.

Telling himself to breathe and relax, he realized that the watch probably had him on danger
since it was still Halloween and the threat still counted. He also realized that for Voldemort
having another plan to capture him on the safest place on earth was unlikely. Maybe the Lord
counted on him falling asleep and lures him out by giving him another vision like he had the night
Sirius died? Well, he wouldn't let him this time.

Sighing, Harry laid himself down on the bed again instead of his sitting position and felt
himself relax immediately.

Tomorrow was a new day.

However, just as Harry was about to close his eyes again someone ripped the curtains open.
Before he had the time to react a silver hand reached out and gripped his right wrist tightly, and
Harry stared up into the eyes of the one who had betrayed his parents, the one responsible for
bringing Voldemort back to life.

“NO!” shouted Harry and began to trash, trying with all his might to hit the wizard that held
him tightly. The silver hand was hard and strong and woul0 not let go of him, however. It did not
even budge from Harry's attempts to free himself.

“NO!” he shouted again, “RON!”

“Go back to sleep, Harry...” mumbled Ron sleepily, turning over.

Pettigrew was reaching for something in his pocket and Harry panicked. *He wouldn't let
this happen! He couldn't!*

In one last, futile attempt Harry fired off a stunner, but his wand was in the same hand as the
one Pettigrew held him in and the spell hit the roof. It did, however, wake the other boys up
completely.

He did not have time to see their stunned expressions though, as he felt a jerk behind his navel
that told him a portkey had been activated.

18

13

-->



22. Voldemort's Plan
--------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

**A/N:** Thanks to Annick and Aurabolt for checking the chapter for grammar. Also thanks to
Izzieq for being reviewer number 200. =)

- .

Ch22: **VOLDEMORT'S PLAN**

Did you say everything you could?

Did the things that you thought you would?

Did it ever occur to you that this could be your final day?

(Did You by Hoobastank)

Harry's scream was cut short when he felt himself land on fast ground. The next moment a
flash of red light was shot at him and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness against his
will.

When he woke up again he found himself in a cage. He didn't have his wand. A quick look
confirmed that he didn't have his clock or pendant on either. His hands and feet were tied up.
He realized someone had put a stunner on him and searched him afterwards.

Trying to control his fear and bitterness Harry looked up and what he saw startled him. The room
was dark without any windows, only lit by a small lamp in the middle of the roof. Outside the cage
he saw grey, high walls and before the wall right in front of him he saw a large chair and a
mirror. Harry instantly knew he had seen the place before in a dream. When he thought closer about
it he remembered the dream had been about Voldemort and Wormtail discussing a plan... he hadn't
known what they had meant back then, but when he had talked about it to Ron and Hermione afterwards
they thought it had something to do with Dumbledore.

*That old, muggle - loving fool won't know what hit him! The plan is perfect...*

A door opened and in came a lump wizard with silver hand that Harry recognized all too well. He
gave the man a sharp glare, but didn't receive any in return. Wormtail seemed to avoid his eyes
and walked almost sideways to him.

“You owe me your life!” Harry hissed with contempt, trying to suppress the desperate tears he
felt behind his eyes. Peter looked up briefly before looking away again, shuddering. “Rat,” said
Harry and kicked one of the jars. “Let me out!”

“Can't do that,” the rat person said. “You've no idea what he can do... the means he
has... the way he can-”

“I think I do! We share a connection remember? I've seen a lot of what he can do! So
don't give me that shit! You're going to be really sorry about this and even if I die
I'll make sure to come back and haunt you the rest of your pitiful life!”

Wormtail paled, believing that Harry would do just that. Harry, however, had no plans to do such
thing; if he died then he wanted to go on. No more the Boy Who Lived. Thanks, but no thanks.

Wormtail didn't say much else as he opened the cage and banished the ropes around
Harry's feet and hands. Then he dragged Harry up and out of the cage and walked firmly towards
the only other door in the room. The silver hand that held Harry was far from human and much
stronger, so strong that Harry knew he could not get away from it. For every step he felt a growing
sense of dread. Whatever that door led to it could not be good...

His suspicions were soon confirmed. Inside the next room Wormtail dragged him into he saw a
bunch of dark clothed Death Eaters, but no one of them had their masks on. Voldemort had to be
really sure that he couldn't escape, Harry thought, while trying to look brave by keeping his
eyes above the ground and stare the murderers in the eye. He would have feel much better if he had
his wand though, he felt naked without it.

When they reached the middle of the room they halted. Wormtail took great care to keep his hold
on him.

Then they waited.

Harry searched among the faces of Death Eaters; hoping to see a way out of the situation, but
they had created a complete circle around him. He saw Bella give him a reproachful look and he
returned it the best he could. If he hadn't been so darn scared he would've felt comfort in
seeing that her face was all bruised up.

His eyes traveled further and he gave a start when he saw Severus Snape among them. Harry almost
called out to him, but the Potion professor shook his head very slightly - unnoticed by everyone
else - and Harry understood...

Suddenly he the whole group tensed and he did so himself automatically. Tearing his gaze from
Snape quickly he looked straight forward again only to see the man who had haunted his dreams since
he learned about the magical world.

Voldemort.

*This is not happening, this is not happening!* He thought wildly, desperately hoping it
was all a bad dream, but to no avail. The red-eyed monster in front of him was very real and very
dangerous.

“Ah, Potter. We meet again.”

Harry trembled at the cold voice, but said nothing. For a long time they just stared at each
other, the silence heavy as a cold blanket in the room. His upper arm was beginning to feel numb
from where Pettigrew held him and that numbness spread to his whole body. All the while he
couldn't help but think that this is it... he'd die, he'd never see Hermione or anybody
else again... he'd die in the companies of Death Eaters...

“Welcome, Death Eaters, my followers. I have the pleasure to inform you that this day will
change everything so far in our history.

“Just like I said I would, young Harry was brought here tonight and this time there is
absolutely no way for him to escape. I have him exactly where I want him. You may ask; why
Halloween and how did I do it? The whole thing was quite simple: we counted on the boy's
Gryffindor side - the part that wants to help people at all cost. However, I knew better than to
count on that alone so I had a backup plan. That is where my faithful servant Pettigrew comes in,-“
(Pettigrew straightened up proudly) “-it does good to have a rat Animagus does it not? Already
before the plan was made public I had him inside Hogwarts, using the passage under Honeydukes. If a
dog can then a rat can too, certainly. As a rat Pettigrew went to the Slytherin common room where
miss Parkinson took care of him until a week before today. Then he went to the Gryffindor common
room. Tell us how you managed to stay hidden, Peter.”

Wormtail gulped and nodded. “Yes, Master, of course Master. I waited outside the entrance of the
common room until a group of fourth years came by and revealed the password. I came back late at
night under a Disillusionment charm and the Fat Lady was only too happy to let me in even though
she couldn't see me clearly. I went up to the boys' dormitory and stole the Marauders Map -
that's a map that shows every living being inside the castle. I should know; I've made it
after all - and went back to the dungeons and burned it. The remaining days I kept myself close to
Harry and when Bellatrix failed in capturing him I knew that it was my turn. I waited until he was
asleep and then I brought him here with the portkey you provided me, Master.”

“Very good Peter. You will be rewarded.”

“Thank you, Master... you are very kind, Master,” said Pettigrew and bowed. Harry scowled in
disgust. Some part of him hadn't realized the seriousness in the situation yet and he was still
shocked that the rat had burned the Marauders Map. His map... however, when Voldemort turned his
attention to him he quickly forgot all about the piece of parchment.

“When it comes to why I simply wanted to humor myself, since it was Halloween I killed James and
Lily Potter and little Harry here thwarted my plans for the first time. What do you think of the
plan now, Harry? Do you like it? I certainly do... I must say that I am thrilled to have you here
with us today. You won't answer me? That is very rude, looks like I have to teach you some
manners.” Harry's eyes widened. The thought of being put under the Cruciatus curse wasn't
something he liked the thought of. Voldemort chuckled. “No, I won't curse you... yet. What I
want from you is so much more than to hear you scream. I want to hear the Prophecy, Harry.”

“I don't know it,” said Harry instantly.

“Yes, you do. I can tell,” Voldemort stepped a little closer and Harry swore inwardly. He had
put up his Occlumency shell too late. “Now, be a good boy and tell me.”

Harry shook his head. “No.”

“You know what will happen if you refuse?” questioned Voldemort softly, pointing his wand at
Harry's chest. Harry tried to take a step back but Wormtail held him in place, not allowing him
to go anywhere. Stubbornly he looked the wicked wizard in the eyes and spat. The spit didn't
hit him, but was enough to enrage Voldemort.

“*Crucio!”*

The pain was just as bad as the last time Harry had felt it on his body. The reality seemed to
disappear as the only thing existing was the pain, a pain so intense that he wished he was dead so
everything could end... however, the curse lifted off him a second later and Harry found himself
hanging from Wormtail's outstretched, claw-like hand; gasping for air. He could hear Bellatrix
laugh somewhere in the distance.

“You did not like that, did you?” asked Voldemort, peering at him closely with crimson eyes.

“It doesn't matter what you do to me,” said Harry harshly, acting braver than he felt. “I
won't say anything.”

“Stupid Gryffindor,” said Voldemort. “It is no use hiding things from me. I will find out
eventually.”

Harry stared defiantly at him, but then the Dark Lord began to close the last distance between
them and Harry reached a whole new level of nervousness. He stood there; shaking, defenseless, cold
and absolutely terrified as the wizard walked towards him with quick, intimidating steps. However,
no matter how much Harry wanted to scream and run away, he couldn't move from the spot. Hell,
he couldn't even breathe!

When Voldemort was an arm length away, he stopped and studied Harry closely. Harry quickly
pulled up his mental defenses again, feeling that the Dark Lord was trying to enter his mind...

“Why are you struggling against me so?” said Voldemort, and laughed softly at Harry's
expression. “You know we are one... we share dreams, power, even blood...would that make us blood
brothers, hm?” Harry shuddered, he didn't want to think about it, he didn't...

“We are linked,” continued Voldemort, “through this scar.”

Harry opened his eyes abruptly and saw to his horror that Voldemort's bony, white finger was
pointing at his forehead...

He could hear the silence around them. No one, not even Voldemort seemed to be breathing, and
they were standing really close now...

His stomach had long since dropped to the ground and he could do nothing as Voldemort closed the
last distance between his finger and the scar...

As soon as the finger touched Harry drew a sharp breath. He felt his heart race upwards - as
though trying to jump over him - and the most funny feeling shot through his veins... he could feel
everything Voldemort could and he was sure Voldemort could feel everything he could as well... he
didn't like what he felt inside the dark wizard, but on the other side he couldn't dislike
it either... it was such a feeling of power and confidence that it took his breath away.

“See Harry?” said Voldemort, “we are connected... and always would be... you are me and I am
you...”

The feeling of power didn't leave and Harry didn't feel like he had control over himself
anymore. Without meaning to he nodded, as though confirming what the Dark Lord had just said about
them being one.

“All because of the curse of the Prophecy... that is what it is; a curse and it cursed us both.
You have heard the Prophecy, have you not?” continued Voldemort, and again Harry nodded.

“Yeah...”

“Would you like to tell it to me?”

“Yeah -er...” Somewhere, in the back of Harry's mind, he was suddenly aware of what was
going on again and with a jolt he realized that Voldemort was no longer holding the connection. He
blinked. “No...”

“It's very rude to say `no' to me, Harry,” warned Voldemort and grabbed Harry's
upper arms. Again Harry felt a funny feeling shot through him, but it didn't overwhelm him as
it had when Voldemort had touched his scar.

The Dark Lord didn't give up. “You are going to tell me. Now...”

Harry shook his head violently. “No, no...”

“*Yes you are!”* hissed Voldemort and before Harry could do anything (not that he could if
he had tried) the Dark Lord touched his scar again. “Now...”

For a moment Harry welcomed the powerful feeling; it felt so nice not being so weak and
scared... but as soon as he opened his mouth he regretted it for what came out of it was: “The one
with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...“

“Skip that,” ordered Voldemort, and Harry could feel both of their hearts racing up in
excitement.

“the Dark Lord will mark him as a equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and
either must - must...”

With a terrible struggle, Harry somehow managed to bend his knees, which led to the connection
being broken again. He fell to the floor, hitting it hard, and for a moment the world span and he
was afraid that he might faint...

With a flick of his wand Voldemort irritably raised Harry up from the floor and grabbed him once
again. This time, however, when Harry felt the bony finger on his skull he knew that there was
nothing he could do to prevent the dark wizard from knowing. He had already opened his mouth to
continue before being told.

“...and either must die at the hand of the other, because neither can live while the other
survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month
dies...”

The whole room was silent. Voldemort removed his finger slowly, still holding Harry's arm
with his other hand while Harry was sobbing quietly, not able to stop. The fact that he had most
probably ruined the world did not escape him.

“I figured it had to be something like that,” muttered Voldemort quietly, surprising everyone.
“I suspected though that it could contain something else and I was not wrong... do you not
understand, my dear friends? Harry and I have to defeat each other, but no one else can kill us
before we do so. If I am not mistaking both of us are immortal until that time... *Either must
die at the hand of the other.* Curiously, the Prophecy also states that neither can live while
the other survives, I did not count on that. Does that make Harry weaker when I get stronger, I
wonder?”

No one spoke. Harry had gotten his sobbing under control as he was more busy trying to figure
out what Voldemort would do now as he knew the Prophecy. The said wizard suddenly broke out into an
evil grin after a moment in silence.

“Think about it, Harry... the possibilities that have opened for us! As long as no one of us
kill the other then nobody can destroy us. Immortality - what I have sought for so long! Now, the
question is, what to do with you to ensure that you would no longer be a threat to me without
killing you?”

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. He had been certain that the Dark Lord intended to
kill him as soon as he was done speaking.

“I could, of course, torture you into insanity,” said Voldemort and Harry paled further. Being
like Neville's parents was worse than death. “However, I will be merciful and give you a
choice: I will spare you if you join me and take the Dark Mark.”

“Never!”

“I would think about it closely if I were you before answering that, Harry. Think about what we
can accomplish together... two of the strongest wizards in the world? Nobody would stand a chance
and we would rule everything! With you we would get many others to our side... what about your
Mudblood girlfriend? Normally I would not even consider one of her blood as worthy, but she seems
to be a quite clever young girl and she can be quite an asset... tell me, Harry... is she still a
virgin?”

Harry narrowed his eyes, anger burning in his veins. “That's none of your business.”

Voldemort laughed like Harry had said something entertaining. “You do not need to worry about
that. Even though she could be a great asset to us she is still a Mudblood after all... she is not
worthy... however, Harry, consider this: Have I ever lied to you?”

Harry didn't know what to say to that, but he knew the Dark Wizard had a point. As long as
he had lived everybody had been lying to him: The Dursleys lied about his heritage to hurt him and
his friends at Hogwarts had lied to protect him. The Headmaster didn't lie, but he didn't
tell the whole truth either and Harry had difficulties with trusting him. However, no matter how
many times people had lied to him there was still no reason to join the Death Eaters and murder
innocent people. That was not what his mother, father and Sirius had sacrificed themselves for.

“I won't join you,” he finally said, knowing very well that this could be the last thing he
ever said. However, if Voldemort was right then other wizards like Dumbledore could kill the evil
one if Harry died, and therefore it wouldn't be such a great loss to the world. He was already
doomed after all: it was a lose-lose situation.

Voldemort looked surprised. “Pity. You would have been a great heir. Pettigrew - break one of
his fingers.”

Harry had to bit his lip hard to not scream when Wormtail grabbed his little finger with his
free hand and bended it roughly backwards. A sickening crack muffled the sound of Harry's
gasp.

“Want me to stop, Harry? All you have to say is `I will...'”

Harry didn't answer. He couldn't give in, he couldn't...

“Wormtail, again,” ordered Voldemort and Pettigrew grabbed the ring finger and did the same
thing as he had done to the last. This time it hurt more and Harry couldn't stop a moan from
escaping his throat. He knew that if it hadn't been for the fact that Wormtail had held his
wrist for so long that it had gotten numb it would have felt much worse than it did. He didn't
give in though - even when they had broken every finger on his right hand and his head was ringing
loudly from all the pain. He had screamed loudly when they had broken the three last ones and the
thumb had been the worst.

“Boy, you are one stubborn kid,” said Voldemort, “looks like we have to do something more...
*Petrificus totalis*...”

If Harry had hoped that he would feel less pain while being in a full body bind he was sorely
disappointed. On the contrary it felt worse because Wormtail had let go of his wrist and his right
arm was now on the same level as the ground. He could feel the blood flowing to the damaged area
and the pain increased even more. However, Voldemort bended down and traced his dark red wand down
Harry's arm, muttering something that made it come so much more blood to his hand that Harry
felt his eyes water before the pain grew so intense that he fainted.

He was roughly woken up again, but only managed to stay awake for four or five more minutes
before he fainted again from something he couldn't remember.

- .

**A/N:** The dream Harry refers to is written back in chapter 12 (McClaggan) if you want to
check it out. Now, how many of you enjoyed the torture scene?

-->



23. Crucio on the Memory
------------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me... sadly. If it did then I would have made Harry's
love life a bit different.

Thanks to my wonderful betas. I'll go and hide now!

- .

Ch23: **CRUCIO ON THE MEMORY**

Don't cry from fear, you know that

I don't cry the rain, no not a tear, you know that

Before you leave

When you go

I think you oughta know

Don't cry for pain

(Ana Johnson - Don't Cry For Pain)

Next time he woke up he found himself in the same cell as before. The pain made it hard to
breathe and he could not move his swollen hand so he no choice but to lay still. All of his muscles
were sore stiff and his throat was dry too. All in all he felt like a herd of hippogriffs had run
over him and another dozen blast ended Skrewts had stung him.

He tried to remember how he had gotten in that situation, but his mind was curiously fogged and
made it difficult to focus. *What had happened to him?*

He suddenly became aware of that he was not alone in the room and he had to suppress the urge to
hide in the corner. He raised his head slowly and tried to rise, but immediately he felt sick and
coughed up blood. He sat up with a grunt, something that alerted the other dark clothed wizard in
the room. Harry looked up into the dark eyes and recognized them as Snape's and instantly he
felt a wave of relief through him.

“Professor,” he croaked, but his voice was barely above a whisper. “Professor...” he tried
again, but it did not sound much better.

“Yes, Potter, it is me and we are alone... for now. I apologize, but I can not get you out of
here.”

“Why?” pleaded Harry, rocking a little back and forth, nursing his bad hand. “Please...”

The professor sighed, a hint of sadness in his eyes that Harry had never seen before. “I would
if I could, you got to believe that. However, there is an anti-apparition and portkey spell over
this place, nor do I know exactly where `here' is. I got here by my mark. Here, take this... it
is a pain killer and a pepper up potion. It will help you a little.”

Harry nodded slowly and took the to vials of potion that were handed to him through the jars and
downed them quickly with shaking hands. It helped his thirsty throat a bit too, he realized as the
liquid went down. Soon he felt the pain in his body dim to a more tolerable level. His voice
sounded slightly better. “Thank you, professor.”

“I do what I can, Potter.”

“What happened after they broke my fingers?” Harry was afraid to hear the answer.

“They Cruciated you, Potter. Four of them at the same time for several minutes until you stopped
responding. I am quite surprised you remember anything from this place.”

Harry nodded and rested his chin on his knees, not able to say anything. He only felt a little
comfort by having Snape there.

“I'm sorry,” he finally said and Snape looked at him with a curious expression. “For
revealing the Prophecy. I honestly didn't mean to, it just... I didn't know, I couldn't
stop it... you know, I haven't even told Ron about it. I didn't know if I could and I was
afraid, I suppose. I didn't want him to look at me any differently and I wanted to have a
normal friendship. That's all I ever wanted... to be normal, with a normal family and a normal
home and normal friends. I know you don't believe me, but I never wanted to be the bloody Boy
Who Lived.”

Snape looked annoyed. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I want you to tell them all that I am sorry for how things turned out. I need you to tell them
that I don't blame them and that it's my fault; that they must continue fighting and not
give up hoping. Tell the Weasleys that I'm very grateful for what they did to me, allowing me
into their family and all. And you must tell Hermione that I'm sorry for whatever I did to her
that was wrong.”

“Anything else?” asked Snape, sounding surprisingly patient and Harry couldn't help but
smile a little at the irony.

“Yes, I need you to tell her to take care of Hedwig and Akin.”

“Akin?”

“Yeah, it's my snake.”

“You have a snake?”

Harry nodded and they had a few more moments in silence.

“I will take care of it, Potter,” said Snape, gazing at him with black eyes. “However, I need to
tell them you are awake now, we can not avoid it any further.”

“Do you have to?” asked Harry instantly, even though he knew it was no use. He felt his stomach
twist painfully with dread.

“Yes, or the Dark Lord will know and have me killed. I will try to figure a way out for you. Be
strong.”

Harry sighed and wished he had a time turner so he could avoid the reality for a little longer.
He didn't know how much more he could take.

The door to the room Harry's cage was in opened again almost instantly and he closed his
eyes. He could hear steps closing in on him and he could hear someone opening the door to his cage.
Suddenly someone grabbed his hand - the bad one - and pulled him out of the cage. Harry whimpered
in pain.

“Get up,” a cool voice said to him after he had been pushed roughly to the floor. Harry did as
he was told - not wanting to lay down anyway - and saw that his `bringer' had been Lucius
Malfoy. Harry could not remember the Prophet saying anything about Lucius being rescued, but the
part of him that was not terrified was pleased to see that the Malfoy did not look in top shape.
Voldemort was in the room too, looking very pleased with himself.

“Changed your mind yet, boy?”

Harry pulled up what was left of his mental defenses. “No. I stand by my decision.”

“Well, then. Lucius, grab his healthy hand.”

Harry's eyes widened. “Please no...”

“Incarcero,” said Voldemort mercilessly while Lucius grabbed Harry's left hand. Instantly
Harry's body got wrapped in ropes so tight that he could hardly breathe. Somehow, he remembered
himself practicing that spell, and he had thought that `Voldemort wouldn't have any problem
conjuring some stupid ropes around a chair!' How right he had been. He could never reach
Voldemort's magic level, much less defeat him.

His attention was returned to the present when Voldemort snapped his fingers and a dark clothed
man appeared by the crimson eyed man's side. Severus Snape.

“Hold him down, Severus.”

Snape nodded curtly and pinned Harry down to the ground. Harry's eyes widened even more when
he felt the weight of the Potion's master straddled across his chest and he felt as though the
ropes were all that separated them. That thought made him panic even more. Harry wanted nothing
more than to ask for mercy, but the dark look from the person on his chest told him to stay
quiet.

In the mean time Lucius had summoned a stone and immobilized Harry's hand so he had to keep
his fingers outstretched. He began to understand what they were about to do, but there was nothing
he could do to stop them as they raised the large stone high up in the air before slamming it down
to Harry's right hand with full force.

The pain was unbearable and Harry screamed until he did not have any voice left. It felt as
though someone had wrapped a burning plate of metal around his hand and pulled out all of his
entrails in the process. Unfortunately they were not finished and while they were at it they
crushed Harry's knee as well, making Harry pass out.

When Harry came around again he only got a few seconds to blink before a red Crucio hit him, and
though the ropes were gone the potion master was still on top of him.

Two minutes after that he was shaking on the ground, coughing up more blood then before as he
had bitten himself badly. He could already feel his mind fogging again.

*Think of something,* he thought to himself, *don't let yourself end up as
Neville's parents ... remember ...* He tried to think back at his days at Hogwarts, but
another round of Crucio - two at the same - interrupted him and held him busy for the next five
minutes. He wished he was dead.

When the curse lifted he did not have any breath left. His throat was sealed shut and his lungs
did not seem capable of drawing air. His face was blue and he was shaking uncontrollably.

“Had enough yet, Potter? Want me to stop?”

Harry nodded desperately and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if he had agreed to
something that he shouldn't had agreed on. He curled to a little ball, trying to shield himself
from the world. What was the world really? He wished he could move his leg.

“Have you decided to join me? Be as powerful as I?”

Harry looked up, wondering what the man was talking about. *Join him with what? Power?*
*How could he ever feel powerful?* “My head hurts,” he muttered, his attention already
wandering elsewhere and tried to cover his head only to find out that his hands were not
working.

“It does, does it not? Therefore you must join me so I can take the pain away.”

Harry took away his hand and glared at the man suspiciously. Something was not right about that
question and he had a bad feeling about it. “How?”

“Quite simple, Harry. With a flick of this wand and a potion and then the pain will be
history.”

*Wand* *... potion* *...* the words sounded familiar. Harry frowned, trying to
remember. It had something to do with a big castle, he knew that much. Hogwarts? Yes, that was it.
Funny name, he thought. Hog warts. A hog with warts. Whatever a hog meant.

“Look like we overdid it a little, Lucius,” the crimson eyed man said to an other man that Harry
only vaguely recognized. “He is already losing it. Go and find Severus again.”

When the other man left Voldemort kneeled down in front of Harry, regarding him closely with
pitiless eyes. Slowly the man reached out a bony finger and touched Harry's forehead.

Harry was surprised by what he felt. His own pain dimmed and a wonderful, powerful feeling shot
through him. He could feel his mind being searched, but he didn't do anything to stop it. On
the contrary he felt it rather interesting as he suddenly remembered that he had won a prize in
class when he was nine years old for a nice drawing. However, he also remembered that the man had
killed his parents and then he remembered a red-haired boy and bushy haired girl with rather large
front teeth. The memory of the girl warmed him in a much better way than the other man could and he
felt his heart flutter and warm his body.

Suddenly he felt his scar explode in pain and he cried out. The finger left his scar and he knew
without looking that the mean man had felt pain as well.

However, a new feeling was growing in Harry's chest. The feeling of pure hatred towards the
man who was now panting beside him. His mind oddly blank, the only thing he knew was that the man
was the reason for his misery and did not deserve to live.

Harry struggled to his feet (something that was not easy) and with a burst of magic he leaped
onto the man's back, kicking, hitting and scratching like a wildcat, ignoring his own pain that
made his eyes swell with tears. “*I hate you!”* hissed Harry with a voice that was barely
recognizable. “I HATE YOU, YOU BASTARD!”

It was shock more than anything that kept the man from shrugging him off right away, but Harry
was soon panting on the floor again with two unfamiliar, strong hands holding him firmly in place
from behind and a pair of crimson eyes staring maliciously at him at the front. He knew he was in
serious trouble, but what happened after that moment he never knew.

-

Harry was standing still on the hard stone floor, looking up with emotionless eyes at the group
of people that were surrounded around him. His injuries were healed and for the last three weeks he
had not been Crucioned. However, those weeks were the only time of his life that he could recall.
All he knew was that if his Lord wanted him to do something then he better do it. He would regret
it otherwise.

He had gotten some training and time to recover the last two weeks. True, he had to learn
everything from the start, from magic to theory, but most of the things came naturally to him.
Somehow he felt that he had known some of the things before he got to where he was now, but it was
hard to tell. He remembered though, the special, satisfying feeling after he had cast two of the
`Most Powerful Curses' that he was told were unforgivable to many of those with weak soul. It
felt as though his body had been longing for it for a long time. It also felt good to him to hear
someone else being tortured and not himself. It gave him a feeling of power and confidence. When he
held a wand in his hand then he had all the power in the world.

Harry wondered how killing someone would feel like. He had practiced the spell, but he had yet
to try in on a person.

The Death Eaters had been surprised over Harry's `talent' in the Powerful Curses and
told him he was a natural. Even the Dark Lord had told him so and promised Harry that with some
training he had the potential of an Heir.

However, first he had to take the mark. He did not really like the thought of having that mark
on his arm because it worked as an evidence for the Light wizards, but it was a small price to pay.
Besides, no one could hurt him when he got as powerful as the Dark Lord.

He took a deep breath: this was it ... this was the moment he had been waiting for ...

He opened his eyes and saw the Dark Lord himself enter the room. The room quieted down instantly
and Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears. It was easy enough to recognize his power even
though Harry had only seen him a couple of times during practice.

The man stood in front of Harry, regarding him closely for any doubts even though he felt none.
Then the Lord opened his mouth: “Do you understand why we are here today?”

“Yes, my lord,” answered Harry. If anyone who knew the old Harry and listened to his voice now
they would not have recognized it. Snape was not present.

“Are you willing to take my mark and mark yourself as one of my followers?”

“It will be a honor, my Lord.”

“Step forward, my boy.”

Harry did so, aware that everyone was looking at him. He kneeled in front of his Lord's
black coat and bowed deeply, showing his respect. “From this moment and until the day I die I will
belong to you, my Lord. Nothing can keep me from wanting and succeeding in doing my duties and my
duties are what you tell me.”

“Excellent. Now roll up your left sleeve.”

Again Harry did as he had been told. He rolled the sleeve up and traced his finger softly over
his pale, clean skin. He was faintly surprised to see a long, ugly scar there that was older than
the other scars he had over his body. Memorizing how innocent the skin looked; he looked up at the
man in front of him and nodded. He was ready.

His skin would no longer be innocent. The Dark Lord lifted his wand and pointed it at
Harry's upper arm, beginning to chant a long and complex spell. Harry could feel it happening;
a little sting at first, then the sting got bigger and bigger until it got so bad that it felt as
though his skin was burned off. He managed to stay quiet, however, that pain was nothing compared
to what he had been through earlier.

His dark eyes that barely had a few spots of green left in them widened slightly in relief when
the pain subsided to a more tolerable level. Looking at his upper arm now he saw a red, angry
tattoo of a skull with a snake coiling out of its mouth.

“Thank you, my Lord,” he whispered.

7

-->



24. Bending Boundaries
----------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

**A/N:** A classmate of mine died last weekend, so this chapter goes to him even though the
chapter is not that pleasant... I wish I could do more for you. You were way too young. We will all
miss your witty comments.

- .

Ch24: **BENDING BOUNDARIES**

I crawled out from the pain of yesterday
I crawled to you and
I said all the things that you said to say
Have I said enough?
 Do you like it yeah yeah

(Our Lady Peace - Do You Like It)

The Death Eaters kept Harry busy for the next few weeks at the Stone Edge. He had a lot to learn
after all, as he did not remember anything from his past life. All he knew was how to cast the
Three Most Powerful curses.

He learned all kind of things; how to move without a sound and make himself invisible. How to
slash someone's throat without uttering a word. How to disappear from one place and reappear in
an other. How to create a large, green skull like his Dark Mark on the sky. How to immobilize the
enemy and how to confuse them. He also learned how to respond to the Dark Mark on his arm, that
turned darker every day. Sometimes, when Harry undressed he could had sworn he smelled burned
flesh, something that almost freaked him out in the beginning. He did not ask about it of course,
as he figured it had to be normal.

Fifteen days after he “gained membership” among the Death Eaters he got the opportunity to try
the Killing curse on a person for the first time. The person chosen was a middle aged, fat man with
a large mustache, a balding head and a big nose. Harry was told that the man had tried to expose
Voldemort's location by feeding a Death Eater with Veritasaterum. The man ought to be killed,
but was not important enough for Voldemort to do so himself.

Harry was led into a small, dark lit room with gloomy walls and no windows. The foolish man was
waiting for him there, stuck to a chair with his hand bound behind his back. Harry turned to his
mentor, Peter Pettigrew, who gave him an encouraging nod. He had always shown special interest in
Harry. Harry turned his attention forward again and asked with a lazy voice: “Do you know why you
are here?”

“Y - yes,” the man stuttered, terrified, “but I do not regret it! Someone will avenge me and
then you will pay! You scum deserve to rot in hell for what you have done! Kill me if you want, but
I would have done the same thing over again!”

“Is that so?” asked Harry, refusing to let the words unnerve him. Weakness was something that he
had been taught not to associate himself with. “What about your wife and children? Would they miss
you, perhaps? Or do you want us to put them out of their misery as well?”

The man paled. “You would not - !”

“Oh, but we can.”

“Please no...”

“Good work, Harry,” said Pettigrew with a small voice, “now you can kill him.”

Harry sighed silently, the time had come. He raised his wand, but noted with shock that his
hands were quivering... his eyes locked with the man's and he saw the horror there.... *this
is wrong,* a voice inside his head told him, *the man does not deserve to die, this is
wrong*!

Harry licked his suddenly dry lips nervously; there was no time to think about that now. The man
was going to die anyway and Harry did not want to put himself on that list.

“I am going to kill you now,” he said quietly and surprisingly the man nodded and closed his
eyes.

Harry closed his eyes too, briefly, because he had to summon all his hate and all his need to
make the man pay for what he had done, something that was more difficult to do than earlier for
some reason. “Avada Kedavra.”

The man's body went limp. Harry never knew his name.

-

Harry had expected to feel relieved after his performance, but he did not. Surely, his mind had
enjoyed it the taste of power and he felt a new type of calm in his body, but his gut still told
him he had done a mistake and that was bothering him. He felt as though he had been parted in two:
the part of him that had the Dark Mark longed for power and another part of him felt anxious and
scared. Hell, just the fact that he felt scared scared him! It was unacceptable.

The man's face followed Harry everywhere. Even though the man was dead Harry often thought
he saw him around; either under a fat Death Eater's robe or in the mirror behind him or even in
his teacup. Harry often relived the scene he had just experienced in his dreams, only then he would
be the one sitting on the chair. However, he was always spared and ironically that bothered him a
great deal too.

Every day Harry managed a new spell he felt the Dark Lord's interest in him growing. The
wizard often watched Harry practice with different Death Eaters, something that always resulted in
the Death Eaters pushing Harry harder towards his limits. Sometimes Harry only had a couple of
hours per day free to do what he wanted and relax, and more than once did he had to take a
Strengthening potion to keep up as well as a Muscle builder from time to time.

What Harry did not understand though, was why the Dark Lord hesitated in letting him come along
on raids. He had not even been allowed outside the building! Had he not proved himself enough? He
did not ask about it though. He had seen what happened to those who dared to question the Dark
Lord.

Harry did not really know how long he had been in that place. It could have been weeks, months
or even years. The building he lived in was the only world he knew and the Death Eaters were the
only creatures he knew.

Except a certain large snake that Harry found after a training session.

He was not afraid of the serpent. Instead he laid down on the floor and peered at the Dark
Lord's pet closely. He felt convinced that the snake would not hurt him.

“*Hi,”* said Harry. He did not notice that he did not speak English.

The serpent looked puzzled for a moment. “*Hello, human.”*

*“What is your name?”* asked Harry.

“*Nagini. Do you not recognizzze me?”*

*“Should I?”*

*“Dependsss on if my Massster wantsss you to.”*

*“Why?”*

*“He holdsss all the power in hisss hand. He controlsss everything, even my body
sometimes,”* replied the serpent.

“*He can do that?”* asked Harry perplexed, but eager to learn how to do it.

“*Yesss, but it hurtsss. I do not like it. He doesss weird thingsss.”*

*“Like what?”*

*“I can not exssplain it properly. It issss like he usssesss me to get into other headsss,
like yoursss.”*

*“M**ine**?”* asked Harry, a seed of uneasiness planted in his gut.

“*Yesss. That isss the reassson I asssked if you recognizzzed me.”*

*“No, I do not... sorry.”* Harry figured it would be a good idea to change subject. “*How
old are you?”*

*“Thirty seven Seasons old.”*

*“I do not know my age,”* said Harry, feeling a little sad. *“But I must be around
seventeen* *of eighteen* *since our Lord decided I was good enough to join him.”*

Nagini said nothing, because her attention was suddenly distracted of something from the door
behind him. Harry turned around and spotted the Dark Lord by the door.

His heart leapt and he slowly got to his feet. He hoped he had not done anything wrong.

“*What happened here?”* asked the older man, looking at the Serpent.

“*Nothing my Lord,”* replied Harry and bowed. “Nagini and I were just talking.” He noticed
that the last part sounded different somehow when he voiced it and to his surprise he saw the Dark
Lord's eyes widen, as though it was unexpected.

“So it is true? You talk snake language?” He did not sound angry, but strangely eager.

“Snake language? Yeah, I can speak to snakes if that is what you meant, my Lord.”

“Really?” the crimson eyed man inquired. “Curious, very curious indeed.”

“How so, my Lord?” said Harry and bowed again. For some reason he avoided eye contact.

“It is a very uncommon gift. It is a honor to have it.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” breathed Harry, not sure what else to say to this.

“Follow me.”

Harry blinked, but resisted the urge to ask why and quickly followed the retreating figure. They
walked out of the room soundlessly with quick, long steps, their breath the only thing audible. On
their way they passed a couple of Death Eaters that Harry did not really know, but he kept his head
up proudly and was pleasantly surprised to see that they were afraid of him. They were not exactly
brilliant and he could easily beat them both if he had to.

They entered a large, heavy looking green door and Harry found himself in a comfortable room
containing a large couch and a throne with a large carpet underneath. Harry was told to sit and he
did, noticing that they were not alone in the room. The Dark Lord snapped his fingers and a black
haired woman stepped forth, her eyes shallow and her lips thin. Harry frowned slightly; he did not
like the woman too much.

“Bella,” the Dark Lord said softly, lifting her chin up with two fingers. “You look awful.”

“Yes, my Lord. I am sorry, my Lord.”

The pale Lord smirked and forced her face to look towards Harry. “You better pull yourself
together. This is a big day for the young man over there.”

Harry's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly covered his shock and excitement with a
carefully constructed mask. Bellatrix's black eyes narrowed slightly, a sneer forming on her
lips that she failed miserably to hide. The Dark Lord ignored them and continued:

“If he passes this test today he will be my Heir for certain. He fills all the requirements,
there is nothing more I could possibly want from one. I will meet with you then. For now you are
dismissed.”

The woman nodded quickly and fled the room. The Dark Lord turned his attention back to Harry,
who stiffened slightly. Both of them knew what was on stake. Succeed or die. Heir or no Heir. The
image of the man Harry had killed flashed through his head for a brief second, reminding him of
what he had done. He suppressed it quickly and stood. The Dark Lord snapped his fingers again,
calling a house elf that brought them an tattered, old boot and some black clothes that Harry
quickly put on. He was also given a white mask he recognized.

Obediently he rested his fingers on the boot's soft leather, waiting.

“One, two, three...” the room disappeared in a swirl of colors and the next second Harry knew he
found himself in an empty alley, darkness surrounding the small brick houses on each side of the
road.

He took in his surroundings. He had never been outside before that moment and the cold and fresh
air felt like needles against his skin. His teeth clattered for a second before he pulled himself
together. There was no time to investigate or focus on other things than his task.

When the Lord saw that he was ready he began to walk swiftly towards a house further down the
road, Harry closely behind. In the distance they could hear the faint roar of traffic, but Harry
did not what the sound was. He had not heard anything like that when he had stayed in the Stone
Edge.

The halted in front of a small, blue door. By the bell Harry read John and Lucia Smith.

“Squibs,” said the Dark Lord quietly and Harry nodded. He had been told what that was: Children
of magical parents who could not do magic themselves, but pretended they had the same rights as the
rest of the Wizarding population. “What I want you to do is to torture them a bit before killing
them. Originality will be rewarded. Pretend that I am not here.”

“Yes, my Lord,” said Harry and bowed shortly before turning to the door again. *He had to kill
again...* shaking his head he quickly thought *Alohomora* and the door swung open with a
small, complaining sound.

The house was rather small. Harry could see a staircase to the left and to the right he saw a
couple of doors. A quick look confirmed they led to a kitchen and a bathroom. Seeing that there
were no one there they quickly went up the stairs.

Harry tried not to think about what he had to do too much. The more he thought about it the more
he wanted to get away. No, his life had to come first and then he could consider the others, that
was that. He straightened up a little and quickened his steps. He wanted to do this quickly and get
it over with.

He was surprised to see a small living room at the top of the stairs, with many different, warm
colors. Back in the Stone Edge he had rarely seen other colors than grey, black and green. Lost in
thoughts he elbowed a vase and it fell to the floor and broke. He jumped and swore inwardly,
feeling the Dark Lord's glare at him. He knew he had to act quickly, so he took a chance and
broke another vase with a wave of his wand. He had to make it look like he had done it on purpose.
When he heard nothing he bombed the wall in front of him, making stone, paint and pictures fly
everywhere.

That woke the inhabitants of the house.

“Honey, what's going on?” asked a female voice from the room to Harry's left.

“I don't know Lucia, stay there and I'll check it out...”

Harry steeled himself. The moment the door in front of him opened he fired a strong cutting
curse. The man in the doorway yelped and jumped back, drenching the place in blood. Harry was
faintly surprised himself when he saw that the hand he had hit had been cut off completely. The man
went into shock and slid down to the floor, holding his stumped hand tightly, whimpering. Suddenly
he opened his mouth to scream, but Harry had already silenced him.

Harry knew he had to play this carefully so he opened the door to his left with a soft
*Alohomora.* A middle - aged woman peeked out of the door, but saw her husband before she saw
Harry and the Dark Lord and rushed to the man.

“Oh my God! John!” she breathed and kneeled in front of him, not knowing what to do.

“Hello,” said Harry, removing his mask and the woman wheeled around, her eyes bulging. Obviously
she had lived long enough in the Wizarding world to know who were standing in front of her.

“You... and *you!”* she whispered, the color draining from her face so quickly that Harry
thought she might faint. “You're supposed to-! It cannot be!”

“Crucio,” said Harry and the woman instantly collapsed to the floor, shaking and twisting and
screaming in pain. The man had stopped whimpering and could only stare at the scene in front of
him. He had yet to register what was happening to his wife. Harry ended the curse. “A little slow,
are we?” he asked the man, but got no response. He remembered that he had silenced the man so he
quickly ended the curse with a silent *Finite Incantatum.*

The man called John shook his head slowly and pinched his arm.

“You are not dreaming,” said Harry quietly, tempted to close his eyes and pretend he was
somewhere else or dreaming as well.

“Please... she's pregnant! We've tried to have a baby ever since we met each other more
than twenty years ago! Have mercy!”

*Pregnant... he had to kill three.*

Harry felt nauseous, but there was nothing he could do. He had to kill them.

To making a good show for the Dark Lord he tortured the couple for several minutes with a
Cruciatus Curse that could have been stronger, but still worked. He also sent a Gashing charm at
the woman's stomach so that blood began to pour out, surely killing the baby in the process.
Harry ignored the slight stab he felt in his heart and killed off the woman quickly and turned to
the man, only to find him unconscious because of the shock and the blood loss. Trembling Harry
steeled himself again and killed the man completely. His task was done.

Now the only question was if he had done it well enough.

- .

Rest in peace Fredrik...

-->



25. Blood and Diagon Alley
--------------------------



**A/N:** So you want an explanation to Harry's behavior? I'll give it to you: Ever
since he got to Voldemort's little hide out Harry got tortured in every way possible. His
wounds were just as much physical as emotional. The Cruciatus curse wasn't helping and the DE
used the curse so much that only a little more would turn Harry into a vegetable/Neville's
parents. He was suffering immensely and after a while his body reacted by forgetting so he could
heal better. However, suddenly the situation changed and he was accepted. Because he didn't
remember anything and didn't know a thing about moral anymore he naturally embraced the
opportunity to escape more pain and prove himself worth *something.* As for why this happened
it is all a part of the plot, which has been planned since the beginning. Please don't tell me
you haven't been warned in the earlier chapters, because you have - ever since the first
chapter when Harry wanted to curse his past classmates. He has the potential, but he still
won't be *completely* dark. This is probably the darkest you will see him... for a while.
(wink;)

Huge thanks to my new beta Aurabolt!

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

-

Ch25: **BLOOD AND DIAGON ALLEY**

And in a short time

You're never the same again

The distance is streamlined

between decision and defense

Disorient the senses, loss of identity

No one to trust, no one to trust

Life runs through this trade

I am no killer, but I still hide my face, in the coming days

(I am the Killer - Thursday)

After they had put the Dark Mark over the house they quickly portkeyed away. They ended up in
the same room as they had left, though this time they were completely alone. Harry swallowed
nervously, withdrawing his hand from the portkey. He knew that only the Dark Lord was able to make
portkey in and out from the place and only from that room. The Dark Lord was obviously waiting for
Harry's opinion because he was tapping his foot slightly and twirling the wand between his
fingers. Harry cleared his throat.

“I don't think it went too bad, my Lord. I could have done better, but it takes some time to
get to used to. Each time I kill someone I feel something inside of me and I don't know what to
make of it.”

“You did not brake that vase on purpose,” the Dark wizard stated and Harry shook his head,
lowering his eyes.

“No, my Lord.”

“You were not especially original.”

“No, my Lord.”

“You know what I demand from my Heir.”

“I think so, my Lord.”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes, my Lord,” said Harry quickly.

“Good. Do you regret the killing?”

Harry quickly suppressed the guilty thoughts. “No, my Lord. It just feels weird.”

The Dark Lord regarded him closely. After a minute he finally seemed convinced that Harry was
telling the truth. “That is quite normal,” he said. “Your soul is not used to it yet. It will get
easier after a few more kills. Can you feel the urge now?”

“The urge to kill, my Lord?” asked Harry and the man nodded. Harry closed his eyes and searched
within himself. What did he feel really? He was a mess inside, especially in his head and he still
felt torn like his soul had been parted to several pieces... however, he after a while he realized
that the piece of him that enjoyed the power from killing had grown slightly bigger. Opening his
eyes, Harry finally answered: “Yes, my Lord.”

The Crimson eyed man smirked. “Then I believe you are ready. Even if you change your mind later
the killing will always be a part of you. I know you practiced the Three Most Powerful curses
before you came here and that makes it easier.”

Harry's ears perked up with the mention of his past, but again something held him back for
asking about it. He decided to ask about it after he had gotten a more secure rank within the Death
Eaters. He bowed to show his respect.

“Now, there is a few other things I want to inform you about.” The Dark Lord snapped his
fingers. “Bella!”

Bellatrix LeStrange came running through the door and bowed in front of him. “You called, my
Lord?”

“Yes. I want you to be young Harry's wife as soon as possible.”

Both Harry and Bellatrix gasped at the same time. “What? My Lord-!”

“You have proved yourself to be quite valuable in this war, Bella. You are the only woman who
has been loyal to me from the start. This will be your reward.”

Bellatrix stood gaping like a goldfish for several seconds before stuttering: “What about
Rudolphus? I'm already married to him!”

The Dark Lord sneered. “He will be dealt with as soon as possible. It will not be a problem.
Now, it is time to give you something, Harry... I believe you are ready. Follow me. Bellatrix -
stay here.”

Puzzled and slightly nervous Harry followed the Dark Lord into a new room he had not noticed
before. Immediately as they entered the room a horrible stank washed over them, making Harry almost
double over and gag. He controlled himself, however, and he was glad because the Dark Lord's
eyes were full of glee, as though expecting Harry to like the smell.

“What is this?” asked Harry instead, studying an enormous, black cauldron on a bench. Moving
closer Harry peered over the edge and saw a light green, almost transparent liquid. He quickly
moved away from the stank and returned to the Dark Lord's side.

“This,” said the Dark Lord, “is one of my newest project. We still miss a few, crucial
ingredients though.”

“Oh,” said Harry, “who is brewing this?”

The Dark Lord's eyes darkened dangerously and Harry almost took a step back. “A Wizard from
Russia is. The other we had was... incapable.”

“How?”

“He was a traitor. He will be killed of course.”

“Oh,” said Harry again, but this time a new thought had entered his mind. Did he really have a
choice? Could he turn away from the Dark Lord if he wanted and escape? Could it be another destiny
for him out there? He would have to hide of course...

*No*, he stopped himself. There was nothing outside the Stone Edge that he knew of. The
other Death Eaters had taken care of him when he was hurt and helped him up to his feet. He had to
show his gratitude; he owed them his life. He'd never bow for another master. He was loyal. He
was better than this other.... potion master. Yes... he'd stay true. He had to be true. “What
do you want me to do?”

The dangerous look flew from the crimson eyed man and the glee returned. “Why, I want you to add
your blood in it... then I want you to drink it. Smells good, does it not?”

Harry nodded, even though it smelled anything but. He had a feeling he'd regret it if he
told the truth.

“This potion is very complex. It has been brewed for three months. Every week I have added my
own blood in it. Now it is almost complete. However, I could not give it to you before, because
your soul was not dark enough. You did not know the pleasure of controlling another humans life.
Yet, you already had some experience with the Three Most Powerful Curses and that made the whole
process easier. You see, Harry, the Dark Arts affect the soul of the caster. For every spell it
turns darker and for every spell you get more power. This potion can only be drunk by one who has
experienced this. Had your soul been light it would be most... unfortunate. It would not be
pleasant for either of us. It could kill you actually - all the effects are not known.”

“Erm,” stuttered Harry, trying to look away from the potion. “What is its purpose?”

“For every cup you drink you will be more like me. There is three in total. However, I still
need your blood or the shock will be too big for your body. Give me your arm.”

Harry ignored the alarm bells that went off in his mind and did as he was told. The Dark Lord
took his arm and led him over to the cauldron. Harry gulped nervously as the man took out his red
wand and pointed it a little below Harry's elbow. Suddenly Harry felt his skin be ripped off in
a cutting spell that went far to deep and he gasped. Dark, red blood poured down his fingers and
fell into the cauldron, making the potion hiss maliciously.

Harry bit back a whimper and gripped the edge of the cauldron tightly. He soon felt lightheaded
and dark spots danced in front of his eyes.

*Stop... please stop...*

However, the Dark Lord held Harry's arm firmly over the edge. The blood flowed so fast...
Harry felt nauseous and wanted to get away. He wanted to get away from *everything*... why was
the world spinning?

**-**

Harry woke up in a start, not knowing where he was. Someone was standing over him.

“Drink,” a voice ordered and Harry felt a cool goblet at his lips. He gulped the metallic -
tasting content down, not yet registering what was happening. Another goblet was placed to his
lips, one that smelled horrible...

Harry tried to turn his head away, but strong hands grabbed each side of his face and forced the
content of the goblet down. The burning liquid went down his throat and down to his stomach and he
immediately felt ill again. He started to cough and his eyes watered. Someone or something held his
arms down and then the *real* agony began.

The only thing that Harry could compare the potion with was the Cruciatus curse. Even though the
curse itself was worse the potion was not far beyond. It started bad and then it got worse; the
burning turned into something that was eating him inside - out and it wouldn't *stop.*
Then a hard, stabbing pain ripped through him and he cried out, trying to move something,
*anything* that was his, but he could not move anything. The pain got worse and worse, until
it suddenly stopped and another emotion filled him: Darkness and bitterness. It felt as though all
joy had been sucked out of him and nothing mattered anymore, nothing except power. He did not want
to feel weak again.

Tiredness washed over him and he fell back to sleep, dreaming about a girl he had forgotten and
that he would still not remember the next morning when he woke.

-

The next few days Harry himself could barely restrain himself from cursing Bellatrix or anyone
that crossed his path. He felt as though his body has become addicted to the curses and he could
not stop thinking about using them. Sometimes he even played with mice and spiders to get some of
the energy out. However, something else inside him had awoken: The urge to run away.

Harry was ashamed of this, but he couldn't help wondering what else he could experience. He
was tired of being inside the Stone Edge and he was tired to always be commanded by someone else.
Never mind that he was going to be a Heir, he wanted to be his own master.

Luckily for him, however, the Death Eaters were planning a raid to Diagon Alley and Harry was
invited to come along. He accepted instantly and soon he was getting his cloak and mask. Together,
Harry and fifteen other Death Eaters began to walk out of the building so they could portkey to a
place named Knockturn Alley.

Harry had never really figured the way out of the Stone Edge so he kept close attention to where
they went. Right, right, left, right... Their footsteps echoed in the hall and Harry saw several
portraits of old wizards, all of them with the same past name: Slytherin.

Eventually they reached the two large, green doors with silver snake handles. A dark forest and
a river met them on the other side, though the air smelled like rotting corpses. The followed the
river for about then minutes, then a wizard named Lucius Malfoy pulled up a piece of something that
could only be human skin and those who could took a corner of the skin and the rest took a good
grab on the wizards that held it. When all of them were ready Lucius whispered “*activate”*
and they were wisped away.

-

Harry could not remember ever being in Diagon Alley before, so he when they ran up from
Knockturn Alley and appeared in the middle of the crowdie street and people started to scream he
could only stare in wonder. However, someone running into his elbow woke him from his trance and he
started to look around for victims.

Not much to his left he saw an old lady with a little girl in her hand, running as fast as the
girl's little feet could carry them. Harry quickly cast a stunner after them that missed them
with inches, but did not hunt them down. For some reason he did not find it much fun to torture
little kids.

A fellow Death Eater grabbed him right where he had his Dark Mark and he winced, but followed
anyway. He was led further down the alley to a large, white building called Gringotts. They turned
left there and hurried down the street, then inside a small door to their left. They banged the
door open and Harry saw they were inside a Apothecary. Only three people were inside, and Dolohov -
the Death Eater that was with Harry - quickly killed one of them and waited for Harry to kill
another. Harry knew they had orders to not leave him out of sight and let him practice. He was just
about to raise his hand again when something from outside the building disturbed him, just enough
for the owner of the store to cry “Revaldo!” and Harry's mask left his face. He blinked for a
moment, surprised, before coming to senses and blasting the roof above the owners head. The roof
collapsed and the man went with it.

Harry quickly turned to the only person who was still alive, the customer. However, when his
eyes met hers she gasped in recognition, her eyes bulging out of her toad - like face.

“YOU!” she cried in a very girlish tone, but was quickly silenced by Harry's companion.

“Incarcero!” cried Harry, effectively binding the woman.

The woman was one of the ugliest human beings Harry had ever seen. She had short and curly hair,
a short neck and a wide, slack mouth. She was dressed in a pink dress with green flowers and had
white stockings. Her short wand fell to the floor and she started to drool in fright.

“Who is this?” asked Harry.
”She is an Ministry employee. It doesn't really matter. Kill her.” The answer was curt and
reluctant and Harry got a feeling the Death Eater was hiding something from him. It did not matter
though, he had a job to do. He quickly killed her - feeling the now familiar rush of satisfaction -
and helped with collecting some of the more expensive ingredients. This time the death did not
bother him at all and he unconsciously took a look at his hand where *`I must not tell
lies'* was written. His lips pulled up in a twisted smile.

Checking that all the ingredients were safely hidden in their pockets they went out of the shop,
only to meet the sight of green skulls in the air. Dolohov mock bowed to Harry.

“Want the honor?”

Harry grinned, pointed his wand up in the air and cried “*Morsmorde!”* A skull equal to the
others appeared and they quickly began to run away. They were just on their way to Knockturn Alley
where they were supposed to portkey away when they ran straight into a red haired boy.

“Hey, watch where you are going!” the young man said, but froze in shock and stared at Harry,
who cursed inwardly for forgetting his mask inside the shop. Harry quickly pointed his wand at the
red head as menacingly as he could and the boy quickly took a step back. Dolohov appeared at
Harry's side.

“Come on, kill him!”

Harry nodded, “Avada-“

“Harry, no! It's me, Percy!”

Harry hesitated by the mention of his name. *How-?*

“Harry, please! I'm sorry for writing that letter to Ron! I didn't mean it, well, I
*meant* it, but not anymore, I promise!”

Harry stared at him blankly. “Huh?”

“KILL HIM!” barked Dolohov, but suddenly there were a lot of *pops* and they were
surrounded by Aurors.

1

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26. Bella's Way
---------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me, like usual. Though that's probably just as
well.

Another thing; I'm sorry this chapter is so short, honestly I expected it to be longer. Next
chapter you will see what's been happening while Harry has been “away.”

**Warning:** There's some flirt from Bellatrix LeStrange's side in this chapter. I
took away the worst part so portkey wouldn't get mad at me, but if you want to see the real
version you can visit my fanfiction.net account: http://www.fanfiction.net/~quizgirl

Over to the chapter then!

- .

Ch26: **BELLA****'****S** **WAY**

I love you

And you're crushing my heart

I need you

Please, take me into your arms

When love and death embrace

(When Love and Death Embrace - H.I.M)

Dolohov instantly grabbed Harry's collar tightly and held him there, for some reason Harry
did not know. Harry, uncertain of what to do, kept his wand pointed at a shaking and sobbing
Percy.

The Aurors held them at wand point too, but they did not dare to fire because of the other boy.
Some of them were whispering and pointing at Harry.

“Keep your wand at the boy,” ordered Dolohov dangerously and Harry lifted his hand a little
higher. *Now what?* “Move to the right... yes, slowly... we need to get out of here...” then
he said to the Aurors, “I'M WARNING YOU! I'LL KILL HIM IF YOU TRY SOMETHING! NOW MOVE
ASIDE!” Harry did not know that Dolohov was pointing his wand at *him***.**

Suddenly Percy whispered quietly and quickly so only Harry could hear: “Harry, listen. I
don't know what they did to you, but you got to fight it... I'm really sorry for not
believing in you last year. Come on, for my family's sake...please... for Ron. Your best
friend, remember?”

Harry hesitated as he felt something in the back of his mind struggling to emerge, but no matter
how much he wanted to know what the red haired boy was talking about he couldn't remember.
However, Percy's words did bring out a memory of the Cruciatus curse and how bad it had felt
and he had to close his eyes for a brief second. He didn't want to remember *that.*

It felt as though he was having a battle inside his head that made his dizzy and that confused
him. Dolohov steadied him while slowly guiding him and Percy to the right and out of the crowd.

“When I say now,” said the adult Death Eater quietly, “run towards Nockturn Alley. Do you
understand?”

“Yes,” said Harry obediently, even though running was the last thing he wanted to do at the
moment, nor did he really remember exactly where Nockturn Alley was. What the Percy boy had said...
it felt important. Harry heard Dolohov whisper a quick *Imperio* at Percy and told the boy to
do the same as he. Harry could see by the way the red haired boy was carrying himself that he did
not have control over himself anymore and that the curse had worked.

“*Now!”*

Even though Harry had prepared himself he was still startled by the high voice and in the hurry
he tripped over his feet. Luckily Dolohov caught him by the elbow and yanked him up and Harry
regained his footings. Embarrassed he continued to run with his fellow Death Eater and saw several
spells shoot past them.

“Protect us,” ordered Dolohov urgently to Percy who immediately turned and started to fire
curses. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw one of the spells bounce back to Percy and the boy
fell to the ground, blood sprouting out of a deep gash across his chest. Harry quickly tore his
eyes away and concentrated on where he had to run, still utterly confused with himself ... he was a
Death Eater, a proud follower of the Dark Lord and destined to be his Heir, yet he felt the need to
turn around and seek refugee in the crowd among the Aurors! *What in the world was wrong with
him?*

“Look! It's Harry Potter!”

*Potter?* Harry wondered. *Harry Potter?* *Was that his name?* He had never heard
his whole name before; the Dark Lord had said it did not matter. However, it mattered for
Harry.

Losing his concentration for a moment he almost ran the wrong way, but a quick summoning spell
from Dolohov brought him back to his senses. From the left he saw someone pointing a wand at
Dolohov, but Harry quickly disarmed him. There weren't enough time to kill, he had to
concentrate with getting out.

They sprinted the remaining way to Knockturn Alley; the Aurors at their heels. The other Death
Eaters had already used the portkey assigned to them to get out, so the adult Death Eater had to do
a side-along apparition with Harry, who swayed in exhaustion. Next time he would make sure he had
recovered completely of the potion before he did anything as wild as a raid like the one he had
just attended.

-

When he got home he was surprised to find Bellatrix waiting for him. She was wearing a white,
silk nightgown that barely reached below her bottom, making her pale skin look like snow. She had
brushed her dark, long hair and let it hang loosely around her face, making her look mysterious and
wicked. The nightgown seemed to be the only thing she was wearing and he could see her Dark Mark on
her arm. Harry halted, wondering what to do about the situation. He knew he had to follow the Dark
Lord's instructions, but it felt wrong. Very wrong.

“Hello, Harry,” she said in a fake singsong voice, moving closer. Harry backed away until he
reached the wall behind him and raised his hands slightly in self-defense.

“Erm, hi,” he answered, shuddering in disgust and nervousness when she trailed a long, black
painted nail down his chest. He tried to move to the side, but Bellatrix had other plans and placed
herself in his way. She wouldn't let him out that easily. Harry grabbed her hands, slightly
panicking. It had been a long day and he did *not* have the energy to do anything more that
night except sleep even if he had wanted her.

“What's the matter, Potty?” she asked and he arched his eyebrows in surprise. He thought he
had heard Potter back in Diagon Alley.

“Potty?”

Bellatrix seemed to be taken aback for a moment, then she adapted a scared look before she found
her mask a second later and looked impassive. “So? I can call you whatever I want.”

Harry knew she was lying, but he also knew she would never admit it so he let the subject drop.
Instead he said:

“I'm too tired for this now. Surely our Dark Lord can wait one more night?”

She scowled. “You don't know anything, do you? The sooner we get this over with the better
it'll be for the both of us.”

“I think it'll be better if we wait until I've taken the rest of the potion. It's
not like you care about me anyway,” said Harry sourly. *Why would anyone care about him?* As
far as he knew nobody had.

“Of course not, but I care about me!” said Bellatrix with a hiss and groaned in frustration.
“You'll have to do this sooner or later! Why not now? Don't you find me attractive
enough?”

“I know I have to... what?”

“Don't you find me attractive?” she snapped.

Harry stared at her. In all honestly he did not. That woman was way *too old* and way too
pale and way too wicked and crazy for his taste. She was *disgusting.* No, whoever he ended up
with he hoped she was a brilliant witch who did not make too much out of herself. He wanted someone
he could sleep next to, one who would support him no matter what and one who was willing to
anything for him if necessary ...

Bellatrix seemed to notice his hesitation, because she suddenly threw herself at him. Harry had
barely time to see her face coming towards him before he moved. She stumbled for a moment and with
a strangled cry he managed to shrug her off.

“What are you doing?!”

“What does it look like I'm doing?! Merlin - you're hopeless!” with an angry snarl
Bellatrix slapped him hard, retrieved her cloak and tramped out of the room like a kid who had been
denied candy, yelling: “You've probably never been with a woman!”

With a sigh Harry let himself slide down to the floor. *What was wrong with him? Why did he
act like that? It was only a* *woman he had met once or twice, it wasn't as though he had
any reason to hate her.* *Why did he doubt his Master's orders? It was not what he had
been taught to do...*

-

Next day he woke up to a white cloud entering his head. He had never seen that spell before, but
somehow he knew that it was a Message spell. Shortly after he saw an image of Bellatrix in his
head, who said: *“Tell the Dark Lord that we tried if he asks, or he won't be pleased with
us. Don't lie though. We will continue after the ritual.”*

Sighing loudly, he rolled over in his thin bed, briefly hoping that he would get a better one
once he was an official Heir.

-

It was time for Harry to take his second potion and he did not look forward to it. He had a
feeling that there was more to the potion than the Dark Lord had admitted and he did not have a
good feeling about it.

Harry entered the green lit chamber he was ordered to and sat down on a couch made of snake skin
and waited restlessly.

The room itself was weird. The walls, floor and roof were black and against one of the walls by
the couch where Harry was sitting there was a large, black table with equally black, hard chairs.
On the walls he could see several, green torches that sent a sick glow to the room.

Bellatrix, Pettigrew and a man Harry did not know entered the room; the man holding a goblet
with the disgusting potion between his hand. Harry wrinkled his nose, remembering the pain he had
felt the last time. He truly had a bad feeling about it. Bellatrix ordered Harry to lie down on the
couch. He did as he was told and she stroked his hair to the side. He had the feeling she only did
it because of the other wizard in the room and because of that he could not protest either.
Bellatrix stayed by his side, stroking his hair with cold fingers and sharp nails. Yet she spoke
with a surprisingly soft tone:

“The potion will be stronger this time.”

Harry peered at the dark silhouette in front of him, looking for something that he could not put
his fingers on. He gulped and nodded softly.

The silver goblet was placed to his lips and he obediently took a sip that he had the force
down. He had to turn his head slightly to not throw it up.

“Come on now, boy,” the unknown man said, pressing the goblet to Harry's lips again. Harry
took a new sip. “More boy!”

Harry gasped, something that resulted in a lot more of the content to flow down his throat. “Oh
shit...” he moaned and turned to retch. However, Bellatrix was quicker and used a spell that forced
Harry to keep the content in his stomach down. She gave him a stern, slightly cruel look.

“Looks like you'll need some help...”

The rest of the goblet was soon down in Harry's stomach and they left him alone after an
Immobilizing spell.

Harry could feel the potion work through his body and he felt incredibly sick. Dark and red
spots were dancing in front of his eyes and a maniac laughter rang in his ears. Harry closed his
eyes tightly, waiting for the full effect to come...

And it did. A hot and sharp pain ripped through his body, making him feel like he was getting
beaten up by all of the Dark Lord's followers at once. Even in his frozen form spasms of pain
waved through his body, making his arms, legs and chest jerk this way and that. It felt as though
his insides changed places and tied knots and his heart clenched so painfully that he could not
even breathe...

He would have screamed if he could, but he had no air to scream with. He could feel the potion
spread through his veins; making his skin burn. Then, he began to feel himself go cold and numb. He
could no longer see, but he heard voices on the background.

“He's worse this time ...fighting against the potion. What shall we do?”

“ ... get the Dark Lord ...”

“I ... not a good idea. ... get mad.”

“But Rodolphus ... look at ... *it's killing him!”*

Harry tried to focus on the voices, but even they were fading. *It would be so nice to let it
all go,* he thought. He could no longer feel anything. *It would be so easy...*

“Lord! You're right! ... to do something.”

“ ... looks like it's ...”

Harry felt himself slipping into unconsciousness and did not hear anything else except a soft,
comforting voice in his head that sounded blissfully familiar:

*You're a great wizard, Harry. You really are.*

He let it go.

1

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27. The Boy Who Died
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This was such a fun chapter to write you have no idea. At least, *I* had no idea that
writing Snape's POV was so entertaining. Thank you for all the reviews! Guess what? I turned
eighteen last week, and since then it's been snowing like never before. Wohoo!

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

- .

Ch27: **THE BOY WHO DIED**

The morning after Halloween there were no reports of Harry Potter missing. It did, however, have
a detailed description of his fight with Bellatrix LeStrange. Of course, that hardly mattered
anymore.

Snape had been summoned the evening before and stood calmly in one of the larger chambers in the
Dark Lord's hide out, waiting for what undoubtedly had to be an admission that the Threat had
failed. He had seen Bellatrix returning to the stone castle bruised and beaten, looking stone sour
and in a horrible temper.

Therefore, he was quite surprised to see Peter Pettigrew dragging Harry Potter in, who looked to
be struggling against the silver hand with all his might. Only years of practice stopped Snape for
gasping out loud in horror.

The boy eventually stopped struggling, realizing that he was trapped and probably needed to save
his strength. That was what Snape guessed anyway, he had no clear idea what went through the young
wizard's mind at the moment.

Their eyes met and Potter's eyes widened. Snape shook his head ever so slightly and luckily
the boy took the hint for once and kept his mouth shut. Snape suddenly spotted the Dark Lord;
walking towards the middle of the room. Snape froze. *Had he seen?*

Luckily it did not seem so. The Dark Lord only had eyes for the young, dark haired wizard in
front of him. Snape saw the man's red eyes widen with glee and hunger and he had to suppress a
shiver. Whatever the Dark Lord had planned for the teenager could not be good.

The Dark Lord held his speech; taking his time and explained a few details. Snape was shocked
when he saw how easily the Dark Lord could control Harry through the scar and was equally surprised
when he heard the rumored prophecy escape the boy's mouth. The one the Dark Lord had been after
for years. Snape did not believe much in prophesies, but he had no problem guessing what it meant.
However, the Dark Lord interpreted it slightly different - to the point where he said that as long
as he and the Potter boy was alive then no one could kill them - something that could be true, of
course, but contradicted Snape's own beliefs.

“Think about it, Harry... the possibilities that have opened for us! As long as no one of us
kills the other then nobody can destroy us. Immortality - what I have sought for so long!”

Usually Snape would find joy in seeing the horrified expression on the Potter boy's face
when the Dark Lord wondered out loud whether or not he should make Harry like the Longbottom
boy's parents, but when the Dark Lord asked if Harry was interested in following him Snape
forgot all thoughts about that.

“However, I will be merciful and give you a choice: I will spare you if you join me and take the
Dark Mark.”

“Never!” said the boy instantly and Snape cursed inwardly.

*Stupid boy... he is practically begging to be tortured. At least he could be a spy if he took
the Dark Mark. He could still help the light side, even perhaps more effectively so.*

His suspicions were soon confirmed when they began to break the boy's fingers and then put
him under the Cruciatus curse. When the boy stopped moving the Dark Lord ordered his Death Eaters
to stay in the building and contact no one.

-

The boy needed someone to watch over him and tell the Dark Lord when he woke and Snape
volunteered. With some luck he would find a way to rescue the boy.

It took two days before the boy started to show signs of awakening. Snape did not know what to
expect. The boy had been tortured for so long by several people that Snape would not be surprised
if the boy had lost all his memories already.

The boy stirred a little and his head rose from the floor. Then he coughed and grunted tiredly.
With quick, quiet steps Snape kneeled beside the cage.

“Professor. Professor...” the boy was barely audible.

Snape resisted in making a scathing remark and settled on saying: “Yes, Potter, it is me and we
are alone... for now. I apologize, but I can not get you out of here.”

“Why? Please...” Snape saw that the Potter boy held his hand in an odd angle. He took pity in
the boy for once: It had to hurt terribly.

Snape explained as patiently as he could that he did not know anything that could help him. He
knew that because he had already tried to portkey away to Hogwarts and apparition did not work
either. He gave the boy a pepper up and a pain killer potion that he always carried around in case
the Dark Lord got a little rough.

Then Snape told the boy about what had happened after he had gotten his fingers broken and how
four Death Eaters had Cruciated him. The boy seemed a little disturbed and rested his chin on his
knees. He had a defeated look on his face and began babbling nonsense that made Snape feel
uncomfortable. The boy was preparing to die.

“Anything else?” he asked, forcing his voice to appear calm. The boy smiled a smile that looked
more like a grimace.

“Yes, I need you to tell her to take care of Hedwig and Akin,” said Potter, meaning
Hermione.

“Akin?” asked Snape suspiciously.

“Yeah, it's my snake.”

Snape was shocked, but hoped he did not show it too much. “You have a snake?”

The boy nodded and got a distant look on his face.

“I will take care of it, Potter,” said Snape finally. “However, I need to tell them you are
awake now; we can not avoid it any further.”

“Do you have to?” asked Potter instantly, looking scared.

“Yes, or the Dark Lord will know and have me killed. I will try to figure a way out for you. Be
strong.” Snape sighed inwardly and rose to his feet, walking away from the cage and to the small
door on the other side of the room. Lucius Malfoy greeted him shortly on the other side.

“He's awake,” confirmed Snape and the Malfoy went in, clearly already being ordered what to
do. Snape startled when the Dark Lord himself came around the corner. He quickly bowed.

“Morning, my Lord.”

The Dark Lord's eyes thinned. “Is he awake, Severus?”

Snape bowed. “Yes, my Lord. He does not look too good.”

“Good. Follow me.”

Surprised by the orders Snape did as he was told and saw that Malfoy had already dragged Harry
out of his cage and to the center of the room.

Voldemort looked very pleased when he saw that Harry was indeed in a bad shape. “Changed your
mind yet, boy?”

“No. I stand by my decision,” said the Potter boy and Snape closed his eyes angrily. He should
have warned the boy against saying anything like that. The boy was clearly not smart enough to
figure it out on his own.

“Well, then. Lucius, grab his healthy hand.”

The boy's eyes widened. “Please no...”

The Dark Lord merely grunted and muttered *Incarcero,* binding the boy so tightly that he
fell to the ground, seemingly unmoving. The Dark Lord snapped his fingers in Snape's
direction.

“Hold him down, Severus.”

Snape nodded curtly and approached the boy who watched him wearily. Snape pinned the boy to the
ground and sat on him, sending him a warning look at the same time. The boy was no doubt in for a
tough ride.

Lucius summoned a stone and began to crush Potter's bones. When the boy passed out the Dark
Lord said: “You can go now, Severus,” only to call him in again twenty minutes later.

“Take him away.”

Snape nodded and turned to the boy, only to be greeted by a pair of pale, lifeless green
eyes.

*Oh no,* he thought as he carried the boy carefully back to his cell. *It is too
late...* *they have broken his mind.*

-

It had almost gone a week before Snape got a second chance to see Harry. The Potter boy was
still in his cage, but his injuries was so bad that the Potion master had to look twice before he
recognized him. Honestly he could not believe the boy was still alive.

“Potter?” he whispered, but got no response. “Potter?” he said a little louder. The boy did not
seem to know that anyone was speaking to him though and only stared at a spot in front of him.

*Oh Merlin,* Snape thought. He had somehow convinced himself that the boy would get better
after a little rest. It was *Potter* after all, the boy always got away with things. Not this
time, however.

When Snape returned to bed that night he knew he had to do something. No matter the cost.

-

Snape kept his promise. He did not need a lot of sleep, so in the early hours the next day he
quickly dressed in his normal clothing. With a stroke of luck he had somehow gotten the watch over
the boy. It could not be more convenient.

Years of practice with walking quietly to scare the students at Hogwarts had done him good. He
made no sound as he walked down to halls leading to Potter and he reached the cell room in no time.
He entered quietly and walked over to where Harry lay. The boy had barely moved.
”I am going to get you out of here,” said Snape quietly and quickly silenced the room and put a
strong locking charm on the door. “There.”

The door to the cage and the lock were made of metal. Of course, Snape did not have the key so
he had to improvise. His plan was to melt the lock and then pull the door apart. What he had not
counted on, however, was how much time it took; it seemed to take forever before he began to reach
the cold core and the metal began to bend. At this point it finally looked like he had the
boy's attention, but when Snape looked over he saw that the green eyes he remembered from Lily
were dead and empty. He looked very miserable and no doubt wishing for everything to end. Snape
tried to shrug off the pity he felt for the young wizard, but he could not quite manage it.

Suddenly he felt the resistance from his wand end and the door opened. The air smelled burned.
Snape quickly opened the door and entered carefully.

When Potter saw that someone was inside his cell he inched back and covered against the wall;
his arms raised in a pitiful attempt to shield his face. Snape sat down beside him.

“Potter,” he said, and figured it would be best if he gave the boy some potion right away.
Quickly he pulled up the vials from his cloak and emptied the content down the boy's throat,
who did not even try to resist. When Snape was certain that the boy had swallowed he forced the
boy's chin up with a finger and stared into the his dead eyes until he finally gained some
contact.

“I am going to get you out of here, but you have to trust me. Come on, now...” With little
effort he helped the boy up to his feet. However, it was obvious that the boy could not stand on
his own with all the broken bones he had. Snape healed him as quickly and the best he could, but he
was not perfect. Healing had never been his good subject and he had only taken one course with
Madam Pomfrey so he could heel himself after a rough Death Eater meeting if necessary. It was
enough at the moment, however, and he did a new attempt to get to boy to his feet.

“But...” the Potter boy protested weakly, looking around anxiously. Snape turned his head to the
boy quickly. *The boy spoke!* “The Dark Lord ... he'll notice, he always does ... we have
to obey him, or, or ... they'll-”

“Shush. He is not invincible. It will be alright if we just hurry.”

“But, he is. Nothing can hurt him, nothing. And you, you ... you are one of *them*
aren't you? You're one of his followers. Why would you want to get me out of here? Why? I
don't know you and you don't know me. We've never even met. I don't
understand.”

They had reached the second hall out of the room. Snape knew that the other Death Eaters had to
be right around the corner. However, what the boy said made him stop short and he grabbed the boy
and shook him. “Never met?” he hissed, shaking a little harder. “Can you honestly say that you
don't remember me? *Look at me!*”

The boy had his eyes squeezed shut, but when Snape stopped shaking the boy and let him down to
the ground again he slowly opened his eyes with a whimper. As soon as he did he peered at the boy
closely and used all his Legilimens skills.

What he saw surprised him beyond words. There was almost nothing to see in the boy's mind.
Nothing. No Hogwarts. No Dursleys. No professors. Nothing. Just the Dark Lord and Death Eaters,
torture, desperation and the small cage he had been living in. Snape dived further in. It had to be
something, *something* that kept the boy sane -

And there it was. A faint, almost unrecognizable memory of a girl. It could not be called a
memory, exactly. All Snape could see was the bushy hair and the bossy tone he had heard all too
often in his class. Her face seemed to be in some kind of shadow. He also felt some affection that
belonged to Potter when they viewed the memory and he smiled a little. The Potter boy still
remembered Granger. There was still a little hope if he got the boy out without any mistakes. Thank
Merlin.

He disillusioned the boy and himself before he went any further and guided them in the shadows.
“Do not say a word,” he ordered the boy quietly and sternly. “You will not get a second
chance.”

The boy nodded, clearly confused and practically leaned all his weight on Snape. Snape did not
even bother to be annoyed. The situation was way too dangerous and the boy was extremely weak. They
were both risking their lives.

They opened a door and went through quietly. They entered a small corridor with a green carpet
on the floor that went all the way and dark walls with pale torches. Snape stopped short.

They were not alone - further down the corridor was Dolohov. Additionally Dolohov was walking
towards *them.*

*Damn,* Snape thought and quickly guided Potter backwards and to the corner. The corridor
was too small for the three of them to pass each other without noticing. *Damn!*

Snape held his breath and hoped that Potter did the same. If the little brat got them caught he
would kill the boy himself. However, right before Dolohov reached them Snape mouthed a quick
stunner under his breath and the other Death Eater fell to the ground. Snape quickly stepped over
the unmoving figure and dragged the boy with him. He did not have to cancel the Disillusionment
charm to know that the boy had very wide eyes; he could feel the wizard's body tense up and
hesitate.

*They must have beaten out the last few brain cells the boy had,* Snape mused. *Unless he
was more stupid than I originally thought.* “Hurry, boy.”

He wished they could hurry more. They were only halfway out of the castle and Dolohov could be
found any moment. If that happened they would have little chance to get out. They passed two more
Death Eaters on their way, but since those two were Crabbe and Goyle Senior they did not have much
problems getting past them. However, the further they went the more hesitant Potter became. At
first Snape thought it was because the boy was exhausted and he was probably right about that too,
but he began to realize that the boy perhaps did not *really* want to get out or he had simply
given up. Snape wondered if the boy would ever be the same. Even though he had loathed the old
Potter it was rather annoying to have him the way he was now. The boy had never given up
before.

They went right, right, left and then right again. The exit got closer and closer - Snape could
practically *feel* the air begin to get fresher - when an alarm went off. Snape knew what that
meant: *Close all doors and windows immediately.* Snape also knew that there were always a
couple of Death Eaters on guard outside the front doors.

Then they were there; they could see the front door in front of them. However, someone came out
from behind them and they could heard their running footsteps catching up with them. Snape did not
have time to turn around before he felt blasting spell hit him. The air got knocked out of him and
he flew through the air and landed hard on the entrance itself. Stars were dancing in front of his
eyes, but he fought it - they were so close, they could not fail now -

The Disillusionment had been taken away and he saw someone grab Harry on each arm. The boy
struggled only for a second before his body went limp and he fainted in exhaustion.

*No!* Snape quickly reached for his wand, but it was not there. Faintly he realized that he
had held it in his hand all the way and that he had lost it. Sure enough, he spotted his wand at
the place he had been hit by the spell. Only forty feet away. Snape started for it, but the Death
Eater holding Harry stepped on his wand, took it up and snapped it.

“So, we have a traitor among us, have we?” the young boy who could be no more than twenty
questioned and smirked. “Man, you are in trouble. I bet the Dark Lord would like to have a little
chat with you himself.”

Snape's breath stopped in his throat. *No, he would be killed, he would never stand a
chance...* He could not let that happen.

The Death Eater raised his wand and Snape ran for it. The Death Eater shot a curse after him,
but missed. Luckily the kid did not have a good aim. Snape continued down the river, dodging curses
all the way.

*Only a little more...*

He could hear a killing curse being shouted. He apparated away only a second before the curse
would have hit him.

- .

**A/N:** Thanks so much everyone! I know that a few of you got impatient for the next update,
even though it's been like ... 11 days? Lol, weirdly enough I feel flattered. =D I have a
request for you though: do anyone know where I can find “Sunset Over Britain?” It's an awesome
H/Hr story building on HBP and had everything I want in a good story, but it's not on ff.net
anymore. I think they had a yahoo group page somewhere, but I don't know the adress. Please
help?

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28. The Girl Left Behind
------------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Thanks to all of you who helped me find Sunset Over Britain again. I really like that story. And
thanks to Emma (HarryPotterlvr3) who gave me a little extra encouragement. =)

- .

Ch28: **THE GIRL LEFT BEHIND**

Would you hold my hand if I saw you in heaven?

Would you help me stand if I saw you in heaven?

I'll find my way through night and day

'Cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven

Time can bring you down; time can bend your knees

Time can break your heart, have you begging please, begging please

(Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton.)

When Hermione went to bed that night after the Halloween party she did not know how to feel. In
a way she was relieved because she had finally told Harry how she felt. On the other hand she was
terribly guilty. When she looked back at their conversation she realized that she had worded
herself wrong and that she had sounded way too harsh.

She glanced at the mirror beside her nightstand and looked through it soundlessly. The
reflection showed the roof in the boys dormitory, and she felt a little relieved because that meant
Harry was okay.

Turning over in bed she expected to fall asleep but she didn't. On the contrary she felt
restless, as though waiting for something. She jumped slightly in shock when she heard a startled
yell from the dormitory and then a sound of something being knocked over. It had to be another one
of Harry's nightmares.

The feelings bottled up inside her. She had felt so terribly scared for Harry the last days that
she could not think straight. She had used anything she knew to keep him from going and treasure
what the two of them had, but he had still gone and fought the LeStrange woman. She had been so
relived that he was alright, but at the same time so angry that he could do that to her, to them.
She knew it was selfish, she knew Harry would always do things like that and she knew she
couldn't change him. No, her Harry would always be a hero, always the white Knight in a shining
armor. Had she overreacted? Had she made a mistake when she told him that they needed a break? Had
her Gryffindor courage failed at last? For several days she had felt that things with Harry had
gone in the wrong direction. She had gotten insecure of herself, and the thought of being free from
any relationship so she could concentrate on school had refused to leave her. However, now as she
had actually broken up with him she wished she hadn't. He needed her and she knew she needed
him, more than anything. Had she ruined their friendship?

Hermione groaned softly and put her head in her hands. She couldn't believe this. She should
be relieved! She'd have time to get more emotionally ready and get her grades up again! Still,
did grades mean more than Harry?

Of course not. Harry was the most important person in the world for her and she'd left him.
Just as she thought that the clock struck midnight and she felt a chill in her bones. Oh, how she
wished to be with him! To lie in his arms instead of her own bed, alone. He was so warm and smelled
so good. He'd take care of her, he'd make her feel safe. How would it be like to never kiss
him again? How would it be like to hold his hand again, would he reject her if she tried? Could she
hug him without ending in an awkward silence?

Hermione sniffed and removed her hands from her face, surprised to find her hands wet and salty.
She had been crying!

Angrily she brushed them away and sighed, trying to calm herself, but yet thinking of the times
when Harry had done just that. She'd never get any sleep if she carried on like that. She would
see him in the morning anyway. She could talk to him more then. Perhaps even say that she was sorry
for saying that to him and that she didn't mean it, not really....

Slowly, really slowly she began to realize that she had done the biggest mistake of her life:
She wanted to be with him, she didn't want to take a break! She wanted him to hold her again,
she wanted to feel his breath down her neck. She also realized that Harry had been right. Halloween
was over and she didn't need to protect him all the time. She'd have time to do a lot of
school work.

Smiling, she finally felt sleep coming to her. She would talk to Harry tomorrow, and everything
would be alright.

If Hermione had paid attention, she would've heard people beginning to gather in the common
room, discussing hysterically about the disappearance of Harry Potter.

-

Morning came and Hermione woke early. She was firm on making things alright with Harry again and
she wanted to look nice. She paused a moment before pulling her hair into a pony tail. What if he
didn't forgive her? Only the thought was enough to send cold chills down her bones.

Putting her chin up bravely she went out from her dorm and down the stairs to the common room
where there were unusually many people than it should've been at that hour, most of them
looking extremely tired. Her eyes immediately searched for Harry, but she couldn't find him.
Instead her eyes stopped at a spot of red and her eyes widened. Ron didn't use to be up so
early.

She was about to ask him what was going on when she noticed his expression.

“What's wrong?” she asked instead and Ron looked up at her, ghostly white and shaken.

“He's gone,” the red-haired boy whispered.

Hermione stared at him, automatically knowing he had meant Harry. *Had he ran away because of
her?* “What do you mean?”

“They took him, Hermione! While we were sleeping! I saw him just as Wormtail took him away by a
portkey!”

Hermione swayed. *No. It couldn't be!* Her knees failed her and she collapsed to the
floor, shaking. She felt cold and nauseous all over and some part of her waited for someone to say
`fooled ya!' but it never happened. *They wouldn't joke about something like
that.*

“No!” she choked, tears flowing down her cheeks furiously. “*No, no, no!”*

She was distinctly aware of someone kneeling beside her, patting and stroking her back as sobs
racked her body.

-

A week later there was still no news about Harry or his whereabouts. He had simply disappeared
like he had never been there in the first place. For once Hermione was unable to pay attention in
classes, actually she couldn't focus on anything. The entire time she was racked with guilt,
sorrow and numbness and she didn't have strength to do anything. She moved through the
day's activities and all the classes without speaking or doing anything. If someone tried to
talk to her she would either ignore them or walk another way.

She always carried a picture of herself and Harry. The picture had been taken without their
knowledge, but that was the reason she loved it so much. It had been taken on her birthday, when
she had received the gift from Harry on the bench outside, not far from the water. Her picture self
beamed with happiness and from time to time the two of them kissed or hugged. That often forced
Hermione to tears, but she wouldn't trade it for anything other than the real Harry. Another
thing she always had in her pocket was the mirror. The gift from Harry still showed the reflection
in the Boy's dormitory and that meant that he was still alive and breathing. Hermione had even
went to Lupin and asked if what Harry had said was true and it was, Lupin even added that the spell
had been cancelled twice before: first time when James died and the second time when Sirius died.
Therefore, Hermione always checked the mirror when she had a spare moment, and every time she saw a
reflection that wasn't her face she breathed a sigh of relief.

At least she could still hope.

She had almost forgotten about Akin, but when she remembered him she had rushed up to the dorm
and retrieved him and gave him some of the food that she had seen Harry give him. She felt horribly
guilty for leaving the little snake behind and from that day on he slept under Hermione's
bed.

Hermione had also found a way to vaguely communicate with the snake; by using Occlumency. She
was nowhere near the level where she mastered it, but it was enough for her to show Akin some of
her thoughts and receive some in return. They had to use pictures though, as she had no way to
understand the words. She had also learned that the snake could feel Harry's emotions and could
provide her pictures of what he *thought* was going on. However, she couldn't make any
sense of them as the images was clouded with confusion.

-

Snape returned to the castle a little more than two weeks after Harry had disappeared. She and
Ron were invited up to Dumbledore's office and she was almost crazy with anxiousness. She clung
tightly to the picture of Harry and Ron's arm all the way up.

They could hear Dumbledore's grave voice before they entered the office, but not what he
said. All she knew was that it was very serious and she didn't look forward to it.

“Please sit down, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley,” said Dumbledore, but the usual spark in his eyes
were missing. Hermione paled.

“Is he dead?” she asked, suspecting the worst. She didn't dare to look in the mirror.

Snape shook his head. Hermione noted with surprise that her potion master seemed more tired and
drained than usual. His cloak was filthy and he had an ugly, black burn a little over the hem.
However, compared to Harry he was not important in the slightest, she concluded, and listened to
what Snape had to say about her former boyfriend: “Not yet, but he is close. He'll count
himself lucky if he dies soon. He has not much sanity left either.”

“So they used the Cruciatus curse on him?” asked Hermione hoarsely, unable to stop herself. She
had felt the Cruciatus once and it was an experience she did not wish to feel twice.

“Not just that, Ms. Granger... I believe he has gotten every bone in his body broken at least
once.”

Hermione gasped in horror and clapped her hands in front of her mouth, almost crumpling the
photo in the process. She felt sick. *It couldn't be true, could it? It had to be one of
Snape's exaggerations, right?*

“And you didn't stop him?” growled Ron angrily. Snape gave him a glare.

“No, I could not do that without exposing myself. Who would be here then, telling you about your
friend's condition?”

Ron shut his mouth, but the sour expression did not leave his face.

“Did you talk to him at all?” asked Hermione, afraid that Harry was still angry at her.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I did. And he told me to tell you a few things.”

Hermione held her breath, wondering how many different ways one could say `I hate you and you
betrayed me' on. She clutched the picture a little tighter and held it close to her chest.

“I can show you...” said Snape lazily, and whirled his wand a few times in a pensive that was
placed in front of him. An image of Harry inside a cage appeared in front of them and Hermione
began to feel the tears press behind her eyes again when she saw the horrible condition Harry was
in; with a swollen hand, dark circles under his eyes and a lot of dust and grim on his PJ's.
Harry's voice echoed through the room:

*“I'm sorry. For revealing the Prophecy. I honestly didn't mean to, it just ... I
didn't know, I couldn't stop it ... you know, I haven't even told Ron about it. I
didn't know if I could and I was afraid, I suppose. I didn't want him to look at me any
differently, I wanted to have a normal friendship. That's all I ever wanted ... to be normal,
with a normal family and a normal home and normal friends. I know you don't believe me but I
never wanted to be the bloody Boy Who Lived...”*

Ron's eyes were very wide and Hermione could tell that he was confused, but paid close
attention at the same time. Sadly she realized that Ron never thought their friendship was normal
and that Ron had always been jealous at Harry. She also knew that without Harry she and Ron would
never have been friends either. Already their friendship was crumbling - Harry had been the glue
that had held them together.

*Snape from the pensive looked annoyed and glared at the pensive-Harry suspiciously. “Why are
you telling me this?”*

*“I want you to tell them all that I am sorry for how things turned out. I need you to tell
them that I don't blame them and that it's my fault* *... that they must continue
fighting and not give up on hope. Tell the Weasleys that I'm very grateful for what they did to
me, allowing me into their family and all. And you must tell Hermione that I'm sorry for
whatever I did to her that was wrong.”*

This time Hermione couldn't stop the tears from falling and she had to hid her face behind
her hands in embarrassment. She hated herself more in that moment than she had ever done before in
her life.

*“Anything else?”* *questioned the pensive-Snape and to Hermione's surprise she saw
Harry smile a little.*

*“Yes, I need you to tell her to take care of Hedwig and Akin.”*

*“Akin?”*

*“Yeah, it's my snake.”*

*“You have a snake?”*

The image faded and Hermione became aware of where she was again. She had been so focused on the
pensive that the reality seemed like a ton of bricks in her head. Looking at the bowl again she saw
more images swirl around in the weird looking liquid. She saw Peter Pettigrew and Voldemort beside
Harry, who was in obvious pain as they did something to his hand.

“What's that?” asked Hermione, pointing at the bowl with shaking hands.

“Something that is likely to give you nightmares the rest of your life,” said Snape dryly, but
Ron had also seen it.

“They are torturing him, aren't they?”

Snape rolled his eyes, while Dumbledore was looking at them sadly - something that did nothing
to ease their worries.

“What are they doing?” asked Hermione fearfully.

“They are breaking every finger in his hand,” said Snape, sounding only too eager to share this
information with them.

“Severus...” warned Dumbledore, but his voice was interrupted by two similar yells of outrage
from the two teens. Hermione glanced down at the picture she was holding again. *Why, oh why did
this have to happen to him?* Would he even have a chance to survive, and where was he now?
Suddenly filled with a cold, chilling doubt she dived into her school bag after the mirror. She
pulled it up and quickly looked at the glassy front. A small sob of relief waved through her when
she didn't see her own reflection.

However, was that -? No, it couldn't be her own eyes she had seen in that small instant.
Impossible. Besides, it was still showing the roof in the dormitory.

“A handy, little tool that mirror, is it not, Ms. Granger?” said Dumbledore, a small twinkle
appearing in his eyes at last. Hermione nodded and forced a smile, drying her face with the back of
her hand.

“Why aren't you helping him to get out?” asked Ron, glaring. “You've practically been
eating dinner with You - Know - Who for more than two weeks and you still haven't been able to
get Harry out?”

“I tried,” growled Snape, his eyes visibly darkening even though they were black already.
“However, it is not a simple feat to get someone out from the most secure place in the Dark
Lord's castle! And do you know what?” Snape leaned a little forward. “Your little friend did
not seem too eager to get out. He was too frightened, too cowardly! In fact, if I did not knew
better I would never believe he was a Gryffindor once.”

“BULLSHIT!” roared Ron, leaping from his chair and reaching Snape's seat in an instant.
Snape, however, was quicker on his feet and summoned a large book that crashed in the red haired
boy's head. Hermione watched in shock and horror as her friend hit the ground, knocked out.

“That was uncalled for, Severus,” said Dumbledore with an edge of anger in his tone. “We do not
hurt students.”

“That was merely self defense, *Albus.* Surely you must know what that is?”

Albus rubbed his temples between his hands and sighed. Hermione bent down by Ron's side and
tried to help him back to his chair.

“Is there any way we can get there to help him, Professor?” she asked Snape.

“Unfortunately not. The only way to get there is to use a Dark Mark which I know you do not have
or being transported by a portkey that the Dark Lord has made himself. Even if you did get there,
you would never survive five minutes.”

Hermione knew he was right, but a part of her refused to accept it. There had to be a way she
could help Harry. She turned to Dumbledore desperately.

“Isn't there *anything* we can do, Headmaster?”

Dumbledore looked at her sadly. “I am sorry Ms. Granger. For now it looks like we have no choice
but to wait.”

-

Hermione did wait. She waited a long time. A week went, then another. Still no sign of Harry. If
it hadn't been for the mirror they would have declared him dead. She wondered if he still had
the watch she had given him and if he ever thought about her.

Maybe there had been something else behind what Snape had said. Maybe he didn't want to
leave was because of the way she had treated him. She truly was a horrible person! She was cruel,
selfish and mean. She had been lucky to have Harry; he deserved someone better.

The Death Eaters had been quiet for a while, though she had heard about a few attacks on squib
families. What worried her though, was that after those attacks the reflection in the mirror
changed. She couldn't see her own face, but she couldn't quite see the roof in the
dormitory either. She had checked if the mirror was still there and it was, so that wasn't the
problem. The more she thought about it the more scared she became. She'd feel cold and a dark
knot would appear in her stomach for the rest of the day. Something was happening to Harry and it
wasn't good. *If only she knew what it was!*

“Come on Hermione, you got to eat a little.”

Hermione turned in her seat and blinked softly. She was sitting in the Great Hall and
practically laying in her dinner without noticing it. She frowned. “Why?”

“So there'll still be something left of you when Harry comes back,” replied Ron and
continued eating. Hermione felt a flash of annoyance. *He dared to talk about Harry as though he
was merely out flying on his broom!* With a little growl she rose from her seat.

“Where are you going?” asked Ron, eying her carefully.

“Out. Anywhere but here.”

Ron hurriedly stuffed some more food into his mouth. “Just a second! I'll join you!”

Hermione shook her head. “There's no need for that. I can take care of myself.”

“No you can't, just look at you! Harry would have wanted you to eat!”

Hermione let out a hoarse sob. “I guess I'll never know that now, huh?”

She jogged out of the Hall and into her Prefect room, where she let herself fall on her bed and
lost control of her emotions.

-

Someone woke her half an hour later. Hermione opened an eye tiredly and spotted McGonagall,
leaning over her bed. “There is news about Harry,” she said.

Hermione felt her tummy do a huge flip-flop and she bolted upright, managing to skull her
professor in the nose. Hermione gasped and clapped her hands in front of her mouth, horrified that
she had hurt a teacher like that.

“I am *SO* terribly sorry, Professor! I didn't mean to!”

McGonagall rubbed her nose sorely and sniffed. “It will be fine. I do not think it is broken.
However, next time you need to be more careful.”

Hermione nodded vigorously. “Please tell me about Harry.”

“Professor Dumbledore suggested we should go to-“

“I'd rather not go there right now, Professor,” interrupted Hermione, her tiredness
returning to her. When she thought about it she did not want to leave her bed at all.

“Very well,” said McGonagall. “I will tell you. Please do not interrupt me before I am
done.”

“I won't,” promised Hermione, but realized she probably would. “Please.”

“Alright,” said McGonagall with a sigh. “Harry was spotted yesterday in Diagon Alley. Albus got
fire called from George Weasley who worked that day, telling us that Death Eaters were attacking
the Alley. Harry was with them.”

Hermione gasped and clapped her hands in front of her mouth again, feeling her stomach do a big
lurch. The thought of seeing Harry again was overwhelming. “Is he alright? Can I see him?”

“Unfortunately we did not reach the Alley in time and we did not rescue him. I believe he was
with an older Death Eater called Dolohov -“ (Hermione gasped again in fear) -“ and he kept Harry
under tight control. They were actually surrounded by Aurors at a point. They got out, however, and
it seems like Dolohov had Harry under the Imperious curse.”

Hermione opened her mouth to say something and then paused. *Harry was immune to the Imperius
curse!* She didn't know what to think. There had to be a logical explanation.

“It can't have been,” she muttered, but the Professor heard her.

“What? Care to explain why?” said McGonagall sharply, peering at her through her thin
glasses.

Hermione explained. “He's been immune to that curse since fourth year, when the fake Moody
tried to curse him in class.”

McGonagall gasped. “He tried *Unforgivables* on students?!”

“I'm afraid so, Professor. I wondered why at the time too, but it seemed like a useful thing
to learn to block.”

McGonagall mumbled something under her breath.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing Miss Granger. Now what do you think they could have used on Harry if he was not under
the Imperious curse?”

Hermione thought for a while. “It's hard to tell. There's more than one way to control
another human being without using the Imperious. Most of them are potions, but they are rarely used
because the victim has to take them willingly, as they are very dangerous and foul-tasting.
It's nearly impossible to trick someone with it because of that. It doesn't make it more
legal though, and it's guaranteed to put someone behind the bars in Azkaban for good.”

“Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor. It is believable that Harry could be
affected by one of those.”

“Yes, it is,” said Hermione, frowning. “What I don't get though, is how he could've
taken it without dying. Most potions like that requires a tainted soul to succeed.”

“Though not everyone?” questioned McGonagall, concerned. Hermione found it a bit strange that
she told her Professor something that the old and clever lady didn't know already.

“No, not everyone,” answered Hermione, studying her shoes.

“I'll inform Albus about it,” promised McGonagall. “In the mean time, take care of that
brilliant mirror of yours, would you?”

Hermione nodded and waved goodbye to her Professor, before she let herself sit down on the floor
against the high stone wall. She had every intention on keeping watch over the mirror.

She took her hand into her bag and felt the cold of the now very familiar handle. She pulled the
mirror out of the bag and studied the backside for a moment before turning it over.

What she saw made her wail so high that it made the students run out of their classrooms to
investigate, and teachers to come out with their wand at the ready. They found Hermione clutching
the mirror tightly with white hands and a picture of Harry beside her. When they saw the reflection
in the mirror they could see Hermione's panicked face looking back at them.

The spell was broken.

-->



29. The Discovery
-----------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

- .

Ch29: **THE DISCOVERY**

We want more than this world's got to offer

We want more than the wars of our fathers

And everything inside screams for second life yeah

We were meant to live for so much more

Have we lost ourselves?

(Meant to Live by Switchfoot)

If Harry had ever known that this potion would affect him that way he would never have taken it
willingly. Everything he knew seemed to shut down and he instinctually knew that his heart had
stopped at some point.

He had honestly thought he would never wake up again; that he had taken his last breath and
would wake up in another place. Perhaps as a different person. However - with a burst of pain - he
could feel air entering his sore lungs. He gasped, nearly giving himself a coughing fit. He had to
use several minutes to get used to his own breathing again, and he had to constantly remind himself
to take one forced breath after the other. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking. His eyelids were
heavy and dry, making them hard to part. Everything was happening in slow motion.

Harry had the mind to move his limbs; fingers, toes and neck to see if he was paralyzed. He was
not, but something within him had changed. Not only did he feel as though he had been revived from
the dead, something different had taken residence inside him. Something dark, that seemed to grip
around his brain and refusing to let go.

The darkness was unlike anything he had ever felt. It rooted deep within him and tried to get
control. It left his mind strangely blanker than before, like he was slightly drunk, but his body
was raging with anger, bitterness and adrenalin. He felt as though he could do anything and somehow
he also knew that the trouble with killing someone had disappeared. In fact, he felt it hard to
resist hurting somebody at the very moment. Too bad the rest of him felt dead tired. His body
craved it and he wanted it! He wanted to feel the rush of power!

As soon as he thought that though, he remembered the potion again. This was not *him*
speaking, this was the potion. It had to be right? One could not change so drastically overnight
just like that?

*No,* he thought; he recognized it now. He had felt this way before, only not so demanding
and not so powerful. He had felt this way after using one of the Three Most Powerful curses from
time to time. He had just been too scared of himself to recognize it.

He frowned as he felt something struggling to emerge in his mind, like the day in Diagon Alley.
He paused his train of thoughts and searched deeper. Then, what he had thought was impossible for
him happened: He saw memories of his former life; memories he had forgotten.

He remembered himself shouting *Avada Kedavra* at a portrait of an old, vile woman. He
remembered himself waking up after blasting a hole in the wall in front of him. He remembered
himself shouting *Crucio* at a woman that looked like just like Bellatrix. That did not make
much sense though, unless she had a twin or someone used Polyjuice to look like her.

Harry gasped as an other, different memory hit him. He remembered faintly sitting on a fence,
holding a girl in his arms and then suddenly pushing her to the ground as a green curse flew over
their heads.

*What in the world?*

Harry did not understand. *Why was he remembering this? Why now?*

The feelings were also crashing into him like waves. He felt anger and hate, shock and
anxiousness. Anxiousness for the person - whoever she was - he had been sitting with.

He had always considered himself a Death Eater and those memories proved that he had been able
to use the Three Most Powerful Curses for quite some time. That had to mean he was on the right
track right? That he had not done something he would not have done, had things been different?

Harry could feel suspicion gnawing in his mind and he stiffly sat up in his bed, alerting
Bellatrix who was in the room with him. Harry's eyes widened when he saw that he had indeed
tried to curse her with the Cruciatus, and as she had not changed much he realized it could not
have been too long ago either. How silly of him to even consider it - of course she did not have a
twin!

“Everything alright, Harry?” she asked, though he could not detect any real concern in her voice
and her eyes were hard.

“Yeah - yes,” he quickly corrected himself and rubbed his forehead. “Just really tired, that is
all.”

Bellatrix scowled slightly and left the room, probably to find the Dark Lord and tell him about
Harry's condition.

Harry sighed and laid back in his bed again, letting himself sink deeper into his pillow. He did
not want to get up; he was dead tired and his limbs were so sore he felt like they were on
fire.

The door opened a moment later, though instead of the Dark Lord Bellatrix had brought in a very
feminine, male doctor. The doctor bent down by Harry's bed, lightened his wand with a tiny
*lumus**,* and opened Harry's eyelids wider so he could see how Harry's pupils
worked. Harry twisted away, but the doctor ignored him and took a few other tests with his wand,
not saying a word. Harry wondered where his own wand was, as the urge to curse someone was stronger
than ever and the doctor annoyed him immensely.

“GET OFF!” growled Harry, fueled by something he did not know. The doctor yelped back and glared
at him, then at his left hands who had an ugly, black burn on it. He adapted a scared look and took
a few steps away.

“Forget it! I'm not doing this; he's obviously strong enough to manage things himself.
The deal's off - you're own your own!”

Bellatrix stopped him on the way out, her wand stretched out towards him. Her eyes glinted
dangerously. “You are not backing out of this!”

“Yes, I am,” said the man, and crossed his arms in front of his chest while tapping his foot
impatiently. He dared a small glance at Harry, who glared back and flexed his fingers.

“A little rest and small doses of exercise every day for a couple of weeks should be enough for
him to recover fully. Now let me go.”

The dangerous look had not disappeared from Bellatrix's look, but she lowered her wand and
took a few, tentative steps towards the doctor. Once she stood close enough in front of him she
engulfed him in a loose hug, and the doctor patted her uncomfortably on her back. Bellatrix winked
at Harry and whispered - just loud enough for the three of them to hear - a few words that would
end the man's life:

“Thank you so much for your help, Doctor. I may just feel like *Avada Kedavra* you!”

The curse hit the man in the stomach before he had any chance to react and he went limp in
Bellatrix's arms. With a small grunt she pushed him sideways to the ground before turning to
Harry.

“You enjoyed that, did you not?” she asked, and batted her eyelashes at him. He suddenly saw
that she had his wand in her pocket. “Does it turn you on?”

Harry brushed a few hair locks from his face. “Give me my wand, Bella. I wanted to do that
myself.”

“Certainly.”

Harry snatched his wand out from her fingers as soon as she got close enough and held it
tightly. He enjoyed the way his blood seemed to heat up. It was as though the soreness from his
muscles eased a bit as well.

*Curious,* a male voice said in the back of Harry's head. *It is very curious indeed,
that you should be destined for this wand when its brother - why, its brother gave you that
scar.*

Harry looked around to make sure it was just a memory. Seeing no one he turned to Bellatrix who
stood by the door, peering at him.

“Now, you are going to stay in bed until we tell you not to,” said Bellatrix sternly, turning to
go. Harry's mouth dropped open.

“But I am feeling so much better! I bet I could do lots of things, maybe even a raid!”

“*Petrificus totalis!* Now you are going to listen to me, young man! I can not marry you if
you lay six feet under, and you *died* just a few hours ago! Heart attack is not something to
joke about, despite being a wizard! Be grateful we managed to restart your heart almost right away,
or you would have been dead or brain damaged by now!”

As Harry was petrified in every possible way he could not do anything, but he wished he could
hex her mouth off for being so rude to him.

“Now I am going to see the Dark Lord and talk about important stuff that is of none of your
concern and you better stay where you are!” She walked out of the door, but right before she closed
it she stopped herself and said, almost in afterthought: “Not that you have much of a choice. He
he.” Then she closed the door roughly behind her. Harry heard her steps echo in the hall behind the
door that separated them.

He lay there for a while, unmoving and fuming. However, he still held his wand and the tip of it
pointed towards his leg. Perhaps he could...?

*Ennervate!* He thought. The tip of his wand glowed for a second, but nothing else
happened. *ENNERVATE!* He screamed inside his head at last - rage boiling in his veins - and
this time he felt the spell as a small bomb in his leg. A second later he felt the spell Bellatrix
had cast on him lift and he could move again. However, he now had pain in his leg *and* his
heart raced a little faster than it should be. He did not need another heart stop thank you very
much.

Dismissing the thought as unnecessary to worry about at the moment, he swung his feet down to
the ground and tried to stand up with a shaking body. He felt a little dizzy, but other than that
not too bad. He walked unsteadily to the door, opened it and went through. The hall was empty and
that suited him well. He did not like the thought of being in the dark about something, especially
when *he* was the Heir. He would be damned if Bellatrix knew more than him! *He was the
Heir, not that woman!*

He knew the way to where the Dark Lord was by heart and had no problems getting there. However,
for some reason he felt strangely hesitant. A strange sense of foreboding came upon him, and the
strange, new blackness in his mind pulsed.

He stopped just outside the door to the Dark Lord's private chamber. Luck was with him,
because the room was normally sound proof, but this time Bellatrix had forgotten to close the door
properly. Harry could therefore hear most of what was being said.

“Always, always. Thank you, My Lord, you are merciful. It is not much left now until we gain
complete control over him.”

“How was he after he woke up, Bella?”

“Weak, but that is unsurprising. He got annoyed when he did not get to curse the doctor
himself.”

Harry had to lean against the wall to support himself when he realized they were talking about
him.

“Excellent. Did he say anything about how he felt?”

“Just that he was tired, my Lord. I did not want to raise suspicion by asking too much about
it.”

“I see. He should feel the effects by now. After all, just one more and he will be totally under
my control. He will do everything I want without question.”

Harry frowned in confusion. *He was a loyal servant!* The Dark Lord already had full
control over him.

“May I ask something, My Lord?” came Bellatrix's nervous tone. Harry understood her
hesitation, it could be dangerous to ask the Dark Lord about something. One wrong question and they
could be tortured or killed.

“Yes?”

“Would the potion still be necessary had the boy not been able to throw off the Imperious
curse?”

The Dark Lord did not answer right away, and Harry was afraid to breathe. He knew he was
*really* testing his luck; the Dark Lord knew just about anything that was going on and if he
found Harry spying on him the consequences would be most ... disastrous. Harry closed his eyes in
shame and prepared to leave, but he could not do that as long as they were this quiet.

“The Imperious curse could easily be reversed, Bella, if someone were suspicious. And they would
be, since he is their `Hero' after all. No, better to be sure with the potion. After he has
taken the last dose he would not have a mind of his own anymore, and would be completely under my
control until the day I die - something that can not happen as he is the only one who can kill
me!”

Laughter.

Harry did not know what to think, but he knew he had heard enough. As the laughter continued to
leak from the room he made his way back to where he had woken up.

He did not see much of what was going on around him. Nothing felt real anymore; it felt as
though there were two of him and that he was his other self and watching from the side, mocking the
lost boy who walked there.

He pushed those thoughts away and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other the
rest of the way.

He was numb and cold when he finally got back. He crawled up in his bed, longing to get some
warmth from the blanket there.

What he had just heard could not mean what he thought it meant. No way. *Impossible.*

Still, the logical part that was left in his mind told him there was a possibility. He could
only remember, what, two months of his life? That was nothing compared to his age. He could have
been anyone, even the Dark Lord's greatest enemy. Harry shrugged. No, that was a little
farfetched. The Lord wanted him for a reason. He would never want an enemy as an Heir and would
certainly not help Harry recover from his severe injuries. Yet, Harry concluded, he could not have
been a Death Eater all his life either, because then it would not have been necessary for him to
take the mark.

Harry shifted position in bed and thought about the other things he had just learned.

The Dark Lord wanted to control him with the potion. As far as Harry understood it, that potion
would take away Harry's ability to think for himself. He would be a puppet, controlled to do
other people's bidding. Just the mere thought made his blood boil, and red and gold sparks flew
from his wand. Harry gritted his teeth. He did not know what to do about it, but he knew one thing:
He did not like the thought of being completely controlled; like a robot waiting for instructions.
Though if he was not mistaken that was just what he would become if he took the last dose of the
potion. He did not like it one bit. He had to do *something.*

Harry felt his anger flare as the bitterness welled up in him. With a cry of anger he smashed
the wall in front of him with a killing curse.

That was not enough for him, however. He needed to feel the thrill of killing; to feel the
adrenalin pump in his veins as the life of the victim got sucked out of its body. He jumped down
from the bed and began pacing around the room impatiently. Somewhere in the back of his mind he
knew it was a bad idea for him to go out of the room, because the was a telltale sign that Harry
could have heard what the Dark Lord and Bellatrix were talking about. Harry did not know if he
wanted that to happen.

He blasted another killing curse from his wand, then another, before he finally could feel
himself calming again. He should definitely find a way to avoid taking the rest of the potion.
Maybe if he insisted on taking it on his own, without them watching him? *No,* he interrupted
himself, *they would never allow him that.* Not when it was so important to their Dark Lord.
Perhaps running away was the only option? Harry did not like the thought of running - that was the
coward's way out. Still, however, he'd favor being a coward rather than a mindless robot
any day.

Harry spun around when the door to his room slammed open, revealing Bellatrix. She did not look
surprised by the black burns that Harry had created in the room, but he could detect a small smirk
in the corner of her mouth.

“Harry,” she purred, “The Dark Lord would like to see you right away. The last part of the
potion is ready.”

-->



30. The Decision
----------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

**Note:** Even though I have gotten a few beta offers, this chapter is not corrected by
anyone but me. However, this chapter can't wait forever so I decided to post it. I'm tired,
and I'm taking my driver's license exam tomorrow, so forgive me if I overlooked something.
I really am trying.

Oh, Egypt was great by the way. We stayed in Hurghada, and I took the scuba diving license
there. Really cool. Merry Christmas!

- .

Ch30: **THE DECISION**

I change my mind

I change my life I want to leave it all behind

'Cause I don't have a mind of my own

I am influenced by everything that I see

And I can't help it now

Everything in my life just thinks for me

**(Mind of My Own by Strung Out.)**

“So soon?” asked Harry, his voice very unlike the one he was used to. He swallowed a large lump
that had created itself in his throat. “I just took a damn dose! It practically killed me, I
won't wake up again if I have to take another one so soon! How can you possibly expect me
to?”

Bellatrix quickly whipped out her wand, her eyes blazing. Harry had already drawn his. They both
held each other at wand point, silently daring the other to take the first move. Harry stood still;
refusing to even blink. Just a moment without absolute attention could be enough for him to lose,
and that was the last thing he needed. He sneered.

“I am in no mood for games, Bella! Leave me the hell alone.”

“Do you have any idea of what I can do with this thing?” asked Bellatrix smoothly, looking
swiftly at her wand. With a flick of her left hand - that almost startled Harry into firing a spell
- she whipped her hair over her shoulder. “I have learned a few fun things. Tell me, Harry, how you
would feel to lose all your clothes in an instant? In front of the Dark Lord, perhaps? Or what
would you feel to wet yourself in a particularly important session? It would not be pleasant, would
it? So - tell me again - do you really want to mess with me?”

“I know a few tricks as well,” Harry only half-lied, eying her coldly.

Bellatrix grunted and surprisingly she slowly lowered her wand. “Whatever. Go on then. Our Lord
will not appreciate us being late.”

Harry almost crumpled in fear. Stealing a quick glance around him in search for a way out, he
turned to her and looked at her pleadingly. “I really do not want to. Can we not wait a little
longer, a day perhaps? I still feel weak, and ... uhm ... I really think it is a bad idea.”

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. “Come on. We will make sure you do not die this time.”

*Sure she would,* he thought dryly to himself, more than a little bitter.

“Come on!” urged Bellatrix, “You *know* that if our Lord wants you to come immediately,
then you must.”

Suddenly Harry realized exactly what she meant. He could feel a part of him wanting to go, as
though his instincts were somehow connected to the Dark Lord's. It scared him, because the urge
to follow the Dark Lord's bidding was so strong and powerful that it took his breath away.

*Oh no.*

Harry knew he did not have much choice. Even though he had his wand he could never hope to
escape or win a fight over Bellatrix. She had decades of more experience than him, and even if he
did escape she could easily inform the Dark Lord, and he would seal the castle before Harry had the
chance to get halfway out. It was a lose - lose situation.

He silently followed. It was a strange feeling; he was scared out of his skin to reach the Dark
Lord's chamber, but an other part of him wanted to go. Harry wondered how it would be after he
had taken the last dose. Would he still be able to think, to do something on his own when he did
not have any direct orders? Or would he just sit somewhere, staring blankly at nothing until the
Dark Lord needed him?

Time seemed to be teasing him, because they were inside the chamber almost before Harry could
see it. Suddenly Harry was bowing in front of the Dark Lord, who peered down at him with those
creepy, crimson eyes of his.

Harry felt as though the ground had been kicked beneath him; he was that scared. The fear - that
he had almost lacked earlier because of his pure respect - was now so big it seemed like the air
itself was shivering. Would his life end here? He did not know what he preferred; living
another's life or not living at all.

The Dark Lord could feel his anxiety as well, no doubt. The man was a master at that stuff.

Harry's eyes fell on the potion besides his Lord. He could smell the terrible stench
clearly, and its content made him sneeze. He could feel his eyes watering, not from crying, but
from the effect the potion had on him. Harry knew then that if he took the potion it would be the
last thing he ever did, and suddenly dying did not seem like a bad option after all.

Harry did not want to live the way he had for the last weeks anymore. He wanted something else,
something more than what the Dark Lord and the Stone Edge had to offer. He did not want to answer
for anyone; he wanted to be his own master. A master of his own body, his own life. His own
blood.

How fast things could change! Only the day before he had had everything a man could dream of:
power, protection, health, a woman, and belonging to something great. Not just that - he had been
the Heir of the most powerful wizard the world had seen in a long time as well. He could still be
the Heir in a way, but he would not be *himself* anymore so it was not the same. How could it
be? This had turned completely different from what he had hoped and expected.

Harry knew that the decision he took now was very likely the last one he would ever make.
However, he wanted to make the right one. Not for everyone else, but for himself.

He wanted to die with pride, not of cowardice.

Suddenly, Harry thought he remembered being at a dark grave yard, surrounded by Death Eaters and
the Dark Lord in the middle. He saw himself moving in slow motion and appearing directly in front
of the Lord, and then they both raised their wands at each other, shouting something...

*The Hell?*

Harry shook his head in order to clear it and the image faded from his mind. The potion had to
make him imagine things. He could not afford to let his attention wander.

The Dark Lord seemed pleased, but on edge. Something had obviously happened and Harry guessed it
had something to do with what he had overheard earlier that day. He knew that if the last dose of
potion was all he needed to be under the Lord's control, then it was no wonder the man was on
edge.

“Boy.”

“My Lord,” answered Harry carefully.

“Our goal is just beyond our reach. Something great is waiting for you, my Heir, and you are
going to make us proud. Are you Death Eater enough to take the last part of the potion?”

“My Lord,” said Harry again, and bowed one more time, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
“The second dose was only an inch from killing me completely. I have to question the timing, my
Lord. If I take this again so soon it is unlikely I will wake up again.”

“YOU DARE TO QUESTION OUR LORD?!” shrieked Bellatrix, horrified. Harry could detect a small
glimmer of annoyance beyond the man's red eyes and knew that the time was running away from
him. The Dark Lord did not want to wait, and he was going to make Harry pay for it.

“You are going to be just fine, boy,” said the Dark Lord dangerously. “It should not be so hard
for you to trust us when we assure you that we are not going to let it happen. You are, after all,
an important asset of our group.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” said Harry hesitantly. “But I still think it is best if we wait a little
longer before -“

“*Crucio!”*

The pain was breath taking, terrible and unbearable. For every second he was under it he felt as
though something inside of him was breaking. Whether or not that was his body, will or his mind he
could not tell. All he knew was the pain, a pain that made every drop of his blood boil and seemed
to fill every particle of his being. Yet, at the same time it felt as though he was falling into
something black and cold. He instinctually knew he had to keep himself out of it, no matter the
cost. It was like another person inside him helped him through.

Then, the pain was gone and Harry found himself on the floor. He could scarcely breathe. The
usually faint, blue lines in his hands were now standing out like neon lights.

There was something only too familiar with this...

Harry used a few minutes to collect himself, but in the reality he was not paying attention to
what he was doing. He knew something like this had happened before. Several times - maybe even at
the end of the Dark Lord's wand. When though? Could it possibly be the reason he had lost his
memories in the first place?

Harry's head swam. If it was because of the torture or of the direction his thoughts led him
he did not know. The possibility that he had been *fooled* into this was almost too much, and
made him want to kick, scream and curse. He wanted to hurt everyone in sight. Badly. He did not
notice the red and gold sparks that shot out of his wand.

“Get up,” the Dark Lord commanded, and Harry immediately complied without really thinking about
it. “I assume you are done playing games? I want you to take the rest of the potion, Harry.”

Harry took a deep breath, and exhaled. He counted to ten. However, his voice still shook when he
said what was going to change everything he knew: “I do not dare to, My Lord. I honestly fear for
my life. At this moment it is not worth the risk. You will have to wait.”

Bellatrix gasped. No one ever said that the Dark Lord would have to wait for something without
being punished!

The crimson eyed man sneered. “Very well.” Suddenly a beam came out of his wand. Harry moved too
late and the unknown curse hit him in the chest. A second later he was laying on the floor again,
completely unable to move. They had summoned his wand from him. His eyes stared up at the roof, and
he felt a cold shiver down his back. What if they forced him the potion? He would never be able to
stop them...

However, that did not seem to be what they had in mind. To strong Death Eaters - probably Crabbe
and Goyle Senior - came, and picked Harry up as though he weighted little more than a doll, and
walked out with him. They seemed to take extra care to bump Harry against hard objects on their
way. Harry did not know for certain if it was planned or not, but he was thrown into a small cage -
the same as the one he had woken up in all those weeks ago, exhausted beyond imagination and
without memories. The death eaters and the Dark Lord had been kind to him then ... they had given
him food and helped him recover.

Obviously he was no longer on the Dark Lord's good side.

When he was inside the cage the spell was lifted from him, but he lay still nevertheless. A huge
feeling of hopelessness and loneliness washed over him, making him sad and depressed. He could not
remember feeling so unworthy and lost before. His only allies had turned against him and no one
could help him. He also had a raging war inside his head, and on top of that he had betrayed his
Lord, something that he had swore to never do in his lifetime. He had even taken the Dark Mark to
prove it.

He had really messed things up.

He did not know how long he was there, as the room had no windows and no one came to check on
him. Harry barely moved at all. No longer did he have any hope that things were going to work out
for him. He was doomed and he had been it from the start.

-

Harry woke up later by a scratching sound somewhere near his cage. Harry rose slowly from the
cold stone he was laying on, feeling as though he had bruises all over his body, which he probably
had. When he stacked himself on his feet he felt a wave of nausea come over him and he lost his
balance. Back on the floor he let his cold hands cover his temples on both sides in an attempt to
still the spinning world around him.

His attention returned to the present when he heard the mysterious sound again, and he peered
out of the cage. At first he saw nothing, but soon he saw something move not too far away from the
bars of his cage.

A rat ... curiously, one of its paws seemed to reflect the light as though it had a foot that
was made of metal or silver ... he had seen that rat before!

“Hey, Wormtail!” he called out, and smirked slightly when he saw the rat jump several feet up in
the air of surprise. The rat quickly transformed into a human and moved slowly towards Harry's
cage. He was obviously not meant to be there.

“M - master Harry!” said Pettigrew shakily when he finally reached Harry. “You - you remember!
You remember everything don't you? Oh no, no, no ... what will the Lord say? And now you
probably want me to repay your life debt too! Well, guess what? It's not going to happen!”

“Life debt? What are you talking about?” asked Harry suspiciously. “Hang on ... you owe me one,
you say?”

The rat man paled. “I - I thought you knew! You recognized me! I have never transfigurated in
your presence since you lost ... er....”

“You haven't?”

“I really should go now, Master Harry,” said Pettigrew, looking panicked. However, an idea was
forming in Harry's mind and he realized that it could be his only chance.

“No!” He hissed, “Stay! Tell me about this life debt.”

“Merciful Harry, you really need to rest right some more, we could talk about this another day
when -“

“*Now,* Pettigrew. I do not have other days!”

“Oh well, it was nothing really, just a coincidence and you decided to protect me against some
people. Nothing important at all.”

Harry sighed, knowing that he probably would not get any more answers from the rat Animagus.
“Whatever. I want you to repay that debt now. I want you to open the door and get me out of here. I
need my wand first though.”

“W-what?” stammered Pettigrew, “You expect me to be able to do something like that? Impossible!
The Dark Lord will surely notice - he notices everything!”

Harry rolled his eyes, in an attempt to hide his increasing anxiousness. “You can be a rat
right? I bet you can do it just fine. I need you to do this. If not I'll be as good as dead and
then it will be your fault. You do not want *that,* do you?”

The small man was practically pulling out the last remaining hairs on his head at this point.
Both knew that if you owed someone a life debt and you let them die on purpose, then you would die
with them. Harry had learned that in one of his many lessons with Dolohov, who had told him that
several times to highlight the importance of loyalty and protection among the Death Eaters and
especially to the Dark Lord.

“N - No...”

“Then go,” ordered Harry, and urged the man away. Pettigrew promptly changed back into the rat
and scurried away, terrified. Harry hoped he would see the man again, but he dared not to think too
much about it.

To wait, however ... wait for a life, wait for death, not knowing what the outcome would be ...
was unbearable. He wished he was an Animagus himself. He had a feeling that he had tried to become
one before, or at least thought about it, but it did not help him much. He did not even know the
animal he would become, and he had to know that before he made an attempt.

A snake would be a good form, though ... then he could just slide between the bars. It would not
be out of place and it would fit his personality as well.

Harry sighed and leaned his back against the cell wall, stretching his legs out so the sole of
his shoes just touched the bars.

It was a very small cage.

The minutes ticked past slowly, like years. It already seemed like an eternity since Pettigrew
had disappeared. Harry was not sure how loyal the rat was, either to him or to the Dark Lord.
However, in this case the rat would have to choose between his life and a betrayal against his
Lord. At least he had a some chance to survive if he helped Harry.

Harry wished he could sleep, but he was too cold and too nervous to even think straight. His
thoughts went back and forth like waves against a shore, and he could not really grasp them. Maybe
he simply wasn't thinking at something special at all.

Suddenly, after waiting for a long time, he became aware of a small, black shadow in the corner
of the room close to where the door was. On a second look he realized it was Pettigrew, and that he
had a wand in his rat mouth.

Only it wasn't *his* wand. It belonged to the Dark Lord.

Harry gasped, and still had his mouth open when Pettigrew changed back to human form. Obviously
the man had not seen *which* wand he had, because he gave Harry the scary looking thing
casually and without taking a second look at it. Instead he was looking at Harry expectantly, as
though waiting for something.

Harry stared at the cream white wand like it was hurting him. However, the sensation he got from
it was anything than hurt...

It felt like a taste of power, like the one he would get after using one of the Three Most
Powerful curses. Like having someone at his mercy. Like being in control. Harry loved it instantly.
“Thank you, Pettigrew,” he said. “Maybe I'll have a chance to get out now.”

“So the life debt is off then?” the older man said with round eyes, looking very nervous.

Harry looked up. “No. I do not want you to blab to the Lord. If you manage to keep your mouth
shut until I am out of reach then it is alright.” He was not going to let this opportunity run from
him. He would need it.

He turned to the so - called - lock on his cage. It looked like the original one had been burnt
off at some point, and replaced with a new one. He could do the same, but it would take too much
time and he needed all the time he could get.

“Turn me into a small animal and change me back when I am through the bars,” ordered Harry
Pettigrew. Harry did not like the thought of trading his safety to a man that would do anything to
save his own skin, but he did not have much of a choice.

Pettigrew pointed his wand at Harry with a shaking hand, and muttered something under his
breath. The floor under Harry suddenly seemed to race up to him, and he had to close his eyes in
anticipation of being hit. However, when he was only a few inches from the ground the air stilled,
and he found himself on all four. All four, brown haired paws. Harry turned his head and saw a big,
bushy tail behind him. It was the strangest thing.

The rat had turned him into a squirrel!

However, Harry knew that this was not the time to argue, so he quickly snatched the wand that
lay beside him and took a few trying steps forward. It was hard, but it worked, and soon he was out
and back in human form.

“Thank you,” said Harry again, more sincerely. “I have to hurry now. The Dark Lord can find out
that his wand is missing anytime and then it will be too late.”

The man paled drastically. “*His* wand?! I thought it was yours! It was dark! I had to pick
one!”

“Bye Wormtail.”

“Wait! We have to change it back! When the Dark Lord sees he will kill me for sure! He will know
it was me!”

“Then run with me,” suggested Harry, secretly hoping the rat would turn the offer down. The man
shook his head.

“Oh no, no ... what to do, what to do?”

“Well, I'm leaving now. Bye.” Harry did not wait for the rat to make up his mind. Instead he
quickly cast a disillusionment charm on himself and ran out of the door.

It was the only chance he had.

-->



31. Escape
----------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Thanks to Anna Rose for correcting this chapter!

Ch31: **ESCAPE**

Light up, light up

As if you have a choice

Even if you can not hear my voice

I'll be right beside you dear

Louder, Louder

And we'll run for our lives…

**(Run by Snow Patrol.)**

Everything was happening too fast in Harry's opinion. He could not believe what he was
trying to do, even as he did it. It was crazy and insane, and nothing could guarantee his death
more. On top of that, Harry was not in a very good shape himself; he had been told to rest by the
doctor for a reason. He did not even have his own wand - he had the Dark Lord's! Of all the
unfortunate things that had happened to him, this was the drop that made the goblet spill. If he
had not asked for death before, he certainly did now.

The hall in front of him looked deserted, so he kept running until he came to a large, green
door. He did not bother to slow down and sneak his way in, because if someone was in there then
they would surely react the same way anyway. Besides, he would have surprise at his advantage.

He burst in and came into a small living room with a large table that took all the space and
created a slightly claustrophobic feeling. Crabbe and Goyle Senior, who until then had been eating
wholeheartedly, looked up with dumb surprise written over their faces.

“*Obliviate,”* said Harry quickly, two times in a row. “You have seen no one the last
twenty minutes.”

Harry would have killed them since he did not like them anyway, but it was too early to cast
suspicion over himself. Instead he checked that his disillusionment charm was still working and
jolted into the next room, which was fortunately empty.

Harry was grateful that he had gotten a lot of training while he had been staying in this little
mansion. If he had not, then he would have been far worse off then he was now. Hopefully he would
be able to keep the speed up until if or when he got out of the building.

However, Harry began to feel tired when he was just a little over halfway out and was forced to
slow down to walk. He was in real trouble, but his body simply refused to allow him to run more.
The wand in Harry's hand vibrated softly, sending shivers down his spine. It longed to be used
and it longed for power, but most of all it longed for its master.

Harry was beginning to get near the exit now. He had remembered the way from the time he had
came along to the raid in Diagon Alley. Right, right, left, right... As last time, Harry saw
portraits of the Slytherin family, snoring in their frames. Harry took extra care in walking
carefully past them, as he knew the portraits would tell the Dark Lord if they saw or heard
anything suspicious. Harry just hoped that everyone had yet to be informed of his absence.

… A floorplank creaked. Harry halted and held his breath.

”Who's there?” a portrait with long, grey beard asked. ”*Who's there?* Come
forth!”

Harry closed his eyes bitterly. What if the portrait saw him despite of the Disillusionment
charm? Harry did not move a muscle for several minutes as the portrait kept its eyes open and
continued to peer around the hall. However, eventually the portrait sighed and closed its eyes once
again, presumably to go back to sleep.

Harry let out a shaky breath and moved forward slowly.

”HAH! I knew it! HALT STRANGER!”

Of course, Harry did anything but that. As a wave of adrenalin kicked through his veins he began
to run again, away from the portrait's wail, which now had several others to join it. Only
twenty seconds later alarm bells rang through the castle, and Harry realized that the Dark Lord
knew he had disappeared. He could not remember being more scared than what he was at that
moment.

Hadn't something like this happened before?

The thought confused Harry, but he did not have time to think more closely about it as he
rounded a corner and saw the large, green front doors ahead of him at the end of the hall.

However, someone had gotten to the door before him. McKnair's powerful body blocked the way,
his wand stretched out before him.

”Stop right there, *Potter.”*

Harry almost did; no one ever called him that. Actually, they had seemed to be careful to not
mention it at all, and if they got into the subject then they would quickly find a way to avoid it.
Not anymore though.

Harry knew he would only get one chance. He was a trained wizard, but the wizard in front of him
had decades of more experience. Harry continued to run towards the front doors, his eyes never
leaving the older wizard.

*Just a little more, now…*

Suddenly Harry jumped two steps to the left. Because of the Disillusionment charm, Harry's
movement was enough for McKnair to blink. Then Harry made a forward roll and landed with the
Lord's wand in front of him. The words ”*Avada Kedavra*” left his mouth, and a second
later McKnair's body fell to the floor.

Breathing hard, Harry pulled roughly on the snake-formed door handles, but they would not open.
Harry soon discovered why- McKnair's body blocked the way.

With a disgusted grunt, Harry kicked the body out of the way, taking care to avoid the
still-opened eyes and pressed himself out of the small opening he had made through the door. The
familiar rush of a kill made Harry feel more alive than what he had felt in a long time, but the
stench of rotting corpses outside effectively ended that sensation and almost made him retch.

*Go back,* something inside him ordered. Harry hesitated until he realized the sudden urges
probably had something to do with the potion. The more he thought about it the surer he got,
because the urge inside him to follow the order got stronger and stronger. It made him dizzy, but
deep inside he knew he could not do it … he had killed a Death Eater, and he had disobeyed the Dark
Lord. If Harry knew one thing, it was that the Lord was not very forgiving.

*”You may be my Lord, but I refuse to let you control me!”* Harry screamed out, clenching
his fists. *”I* *AM NOT GOING TO LET YOU!**”*

His scar erupted in a pain so strong that the world around him disappeared. Harry knew that he
had to get outside the Apparition bounds if he was going to make it, but the pain was so
consuming…

*Help someone …please!* Harry closed his eyes in agony and felt unconsciousness luring in
the corner of his mind. Somehow he was laying on the ground. However, just as he was about to give
in to the blackness, he remembered something. A small sentence, but with great meaning to him:
*You're a great wizard, Harry.*

Somehow, he knew that the voice had helped him survive before and that it was important to him.
However, who would say something like that to him, with such trust and tenderness? The Death Eaters
would certainly never do that, not even if they wanted something. No, the one who had said that to
him was a girl, a very important one. Could it be someone from his former life? But then again,
everyone who could have known the old him had abandoned him a long time ago, and he had ended up at
the Dark Lord's mercy. It didn't make any sense.

Harry calmed himself with a few, trying breaths. The pain in his scar had subsided. After laying
still for a few more seconds he became aware of what was going on around him again, including
*voices,* not too far away.

Not good. Harry quickly got up to his feet and looked back at the entrance. He couldn't see
anyone, but he knew they were not far away and that there were enough to take him out without a
problem.

*What was he wasting the time for?*

”*Colloportus*!” shouted Harry, pointing the Dark Lord's wand wildly at the door.
Luckily it worked and the door closed. It wasn't much, but it could buy him some extra seconds.
Not knowing what else to do as the Apparition point was so far away, Harry ran to the nearby river.
He jumped in, but instantly regretted it. The river was cold, disgusting and filthy, and it was
filled with rotten corpses. This had to be the place where they dumped those who where killed.

It wasn't before then that Harry realized he was not a good swimmer. Actually, he did not
know how to swim at all. Spluttering, Harry felt a flash of panic and reached out to the edge of
the river before performing the Bubblehead charm on himself. What if his scar hurt again? If he
fainted where he was it would be unnecessary for the Death Eaters to do anything with his body.
However, he knew he could not afford to get up again, not as the other death eaters could be out of
the Stone Edge already. Harry slowly and quietly moved his way down towards the Apparition point.
He had to move away several rotten corpses and objects on his way so he could get through.

He began to feel numb from cold and exhaustion. He could not really feel his legs anymore,
except when they hit something he would rather not think about under the surface. Maybe he would be
better off with the Death Eaters after all? He shook his head at his own idiocy. No, he could take
same more … just a little bit more and then it all would be over.

Hanging onto that thought and the edge of the river (was it even a river? It looked more like a
canal), he made his way as far down as he could until it was impossible to continue. Wood, corpses
and other stuff blocked his way. He could either swim under or get up from the water.

He still had the bubble head charm over his mouth that provided him with fresh air, but the
sight became too much and he retched into the bubble. He was definitely getting up!

Harry slowly and gingerly lifted himself up from the chilly water and crawled up to the sloppy
mud on the ground. He could see Death Eaters there, peering after a trace of him, but most of them
seemed to have lost interest and looked like they would rather go back inside. Still, all they
needed to do was to turn their heads, and then they would surely see him.

Cancelling the Bubble Head charm and cleaning himself free from the stench with a soundless
order, he crouched down and got ready to sprint.

*One, two...* jolting to his feet, he ran like he had never ran before. His wet boots made
squishing sounds every time he moved his feet. He didn't turn to see the Death Eater's
reaction, but he heard several yells of outrage and soon they began to fire spells over his
head.

It was not too far to the Apparition boarder now, and Harry was sure he could make it unless he
got hit by a curse. However, now as he had gotten this far another problem surfaced: Where could he
Apparate to? He had only been two places outside the Stone Edge, and he needed a place where he
could melt into a crowd.

*Knockturn Alley then,* he decided, just as he felt a sleeping spell hit his foot. The
effect was immediate and he had to use the other leg to support himself as the other one lost its
strength.

Harry ignored his sleeping leg as he was just by the boarder, and he abruptly closed his eyes,
focusing on his Apparition point. A second later he felt the world spin and his body left the Stone
Edge.

-

Knockturn Alley had been quite empty the last few weeks, more than what Diagon Alley had ever
been. One could still see people taking care of their shops and going out and looking for
costumers, but they had little company and several shops had been closed as the owners went
bankrupt. If one ever saw someone, their steps would be quick and with a clear destination. The
reason was simple: the Ministry of Magic had opened their eyes to all the dark magic that had been
going on in the small village. In an effort to stop the illegal trading and gain popularity among
the people at the same time, Aurors had began to set up traps for anyone unfortunate enough not to
see them.

Therefore, it was quite unusual to see a dark clothed, wet young man appear in the middle of the
street, only to fall over as his left leg failed beneath him.

”*Finite*,” muttered Harry to himself, and his leg slowly returned to normal. The
exhaustion was finally catching up with him and he desperately wanted a place to sleep. He could
see a few shop owners staring at him from their windows. He knew he couldn't stay.

Shakily, Harry got up to his feet again. He needed to find a way out of this hole. He didn't
know if his fellow death eaters had a way to trace Apparition, but he didn't want to wait
around to find out.

Harry only knew one direction, and that was towards Diagon Alley. He felt apprehensive to go
there; after all, the last time he had been there he had killed and scared a lot of people. They
would hardly welcome him. That thought made Harry feel even more alone. He would never fit in
anywhere. His world existed of a weak group and a powerful group, and he had betrayed both of them.
He was a wanted criminal. If only he knew where to hide.

”Excuse me,” said Harry as he nudged an elderly woman in the chest, not really meaning it, but
not careful enough to avoid it. The woman didn't turn, however, and just continued down the
street from where he had came from.

”So much for being polite,” muttered Harry under his breath.

He found the way up to Diagon Alley. The place had regained its popularity since Harry's
last visit. He guessed it had something to do with the heightened security, because he could see
Aurors patrolling the streets everywhere. It probably made the citizens feel safe.

Harry felt a pang of jealousy and felt a weird urge to sit down and cry. Everything was a mess
and he did not know what to do. He had tried so hard to fit in, to belong somewhere, to please
those around him … all for nothing. If only he could start over!

”Can I help you?” a voice said to his left, startling Harry. He hadn't realized that he had
stopped his walk.

”N - no,” said Harry, his voice quivering a little. ”No thank you.”

”Merlin! You're freezing! Come here, and I'll give you something warm to drink.”

”I said I am fine!” said Harry firmly, turning to look at the face to the one who had intruded
his thoughts. What he saw was an old, balding man with a cloth in his hands. The man stared at him
for a few seconds, before he blinked and asked:

”Mr. Potter?”

Harry opened his mouth in shock. The man knew who he was! He must've heard what had
happened, and now he wanted to put Harry behind bars!

*”Hush!”* said Harry desperately, looking around wildly.

”Don't fret, young man,” said the man with a kind smile. ”We can hide you in a room and call
the Aurors, and then they'll take care of you-”

”*No!”* Harry knew he could not afford to stay where he was anymore. He had not gotten this
far only to be captured. Turning abruptly, Harry dashed down the street. He had no idea where to
go, but he did not care. He just wanted to get away. He should not have gone through Diagon Alley
at all. What had he been thinking?

His running attracted a lot of attention, but with a stroke of luck he found what had to be the
exit. It looked like a huge brick wall that had been rearranged to the side to let people through.
It was just wide enough to let him pass, and as soon as he had gotten through, the wall closed
behind him. There was only one way to go now, and that was through a small-looking bar.

When he walked in, the talking stopped and all eyes turned to look at him. Harry clung tightly
to his wand just in case he needed it as he hurried through the pub, not stopping until he was out
and had several blocks behind him. He knew he had reached muggle London, but he had no intention to
let his guard down and believe he was safe.

Finding a deserted corner, he closed his eyes and Apparated again.

He appeared in the only other place he had been besides the Stone Edge, Knockturn Alley and
Diagon Alley; the small road with brick houses on each side, where he had killed the couple Lucia
and John Smith, who had been expecting a baby. He glanced carefully at the house of crime and saw a
”For Sale” sign in the front. Harry turned from the sight and walked quickly in the opposite
way.

He ended up in a nearby park where he found a small bench to sit on. He could see the sun going
down in the horizon. He felt so tired and exhausted that he wanted nothing more than to lay down on
the bench and sleep, but he knew he couldn't do that.

It was not before then that he noticed how cold it really was. He did not know the time of year,
but it had to be in the middle of the winter because even though there was little snow outside; the
ground, trees and the bench he was sitting on were covered in frost, and the wind went right
through Harry's little clothing. He had been warm while he had been running, but now as he was
sitting still he noticed that his shirt and pants were beginning to get stiff with cold and his
hair had stripes of ice in it.

Harry performed a slight drying and heating charm on himself from the Dark Lord's wand, but
it had to be done extremely subtle because of all the muggles around who could see him. Harry's
heart did a slight jump when he realized that he *may* not be old enough to do magic out in
the open. Maybe the Department of Underage Magic would see -

No. Either he was old enough, or the ban had been lifted off of him sometime. They would have
discovered his magic before had the ban still been in place. He did not have count on all the times
he had used magic the last few months, but it was quite a lot.

The heating charm was not enough to keep him warm though, and his fingers slowly started to get
a faint, blue look over them. His could no longer feel his toes, as his boots were even more
reluctant to dry than his clothes and were therefore ice cold and wet from the river. He knew that
he should take them off and that if he stayed still any longer then he would freeze to death, but
he was too tired to move.

He almost did not care anymore. Maybe sleeping for a while on the bench would be the most
merciful thing he could do to himself. His eyes began to drop…

”Excuse me, Sir, are you alright?”

“Yes,” said Harry tiredly, looking at the stranger's feet and realized that they belonged to
a small child. “I am fine, just a little sleepy...”

“You can't sleep there, you'll freeze and get a cold! My mum says so. Where do you
live?”

“I ... do not know exactly,” said Harry after a pregnant pause. “But I am sure I will find
out...”

“Nathalie!” said another voice, which belonged to an older woman. “What are you doing? You
cannot talk to strangers!”

“But mum! Can't you see he's freezing?”

The woman sighed. “He is a beggar! Oh, very well. Here is a couple of cents for you, boy,” she
said, and she threw a few coins at a perplexed Harry. “Now, let's go, honey. And tuck your
scarf more tightly around your neck.”

“Okay mum...” the girl said, and the two of them began to walk away.

Harry frowned at the few coins on the ground before him. *She truly believed he was a beggar!
The nerve of that woman!* “HEY!” he called after them. “I AM NOT A FREAKING BEGGAR!”

Despite of his words, Harry bent down and picked up the coins, putting them in his pocket.
Desperate times called for desperate measures. He would need it.

Taking a deep breath, he got up and started walking.

-

He walked for several hours. He never stopped. He knew that if he did, he would not be able to
continue. He no longer had any clear idea of where he was or where he was going. The houses, the
people and the traffic seemed to melt together as a wet painting. He began to think that anything
was better than being where he was now, and he began to look into the windows longingly. It would
be so nice to be inside in the warm...

The world around him seemed even more surreal to him, and the road he was walking on seemed
longer and more never-ending. He had to stop several times to steady himself. He was not going to
make it!

Swallowing his pride, he turned abruptly and went up to a dark door and knocked. Harry had to
hold onto the railing convulsively to stay on his feet. After what seemed like an eternity the door
opened.

“Hi,” said Harry, and he collapsed.

What he did not know was that the day after his escape from the Dark Lord's clutches, his
face would be decorating the front pages in all of the Wizarding papers across Britain:

*The Boy**-**Who**-**Lived Lives Again.*

-->



32. Annie Highwater
-------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Thanks to Anna Rose for correcting this chapter!

If you want you can take a look at my ff.net account: http:// www. fanfiction.net/~quizgirl .

I will always be a H/Hr shipper, but after this story I may want to try something new. I
haven't made up my mind yet.

- .

Ch 32: **ANNIE HIGHWATER**

When the hour is upon us

And our beauty surely gone

No, you will not be forgotten

No, you will not be alone

And when the day has all but ended

And our echo starts to fade

No you will not be alone then

And you will not be afraid

No you will not be afraid

**(Now Comes the Night by Rob Thomas)**

The first thing Harry noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was in a completely unfamiliar
place. Everything looked very soft, innocent and light. The next thing he noticed was that he felt
very warm, and he was cold and sweating at the same time. He groaned and rolled over in the
comfortable bed he was sleeping in, trying to shield his eyes from the light. He did not have a
wand and he did not have his glasses, nor did he know where he could find them. He figured that he
could just as well continue sleeping and a second later he did just that.

The next time Harry awoke he felt much better. He was still weak, but now other things were on
his mind. First of all, he needed to use a bathroom and secondly he needed to find a shower. Then
he wanted to get something to eat.

Looking around he managed to find his glasses and put them on. The world immediately came into
focus and he saw that he was indeed in an unfamiliar bedroom. The walls had a light, warm colour
and had a window with thin curtains in the front. Sunlight peaked through a small crack, reminding
him of the world outside.

Harry remembered vaguely escaping from the Dark Lord and walking around in the streets, but it
was all a little cloudy as though it had happened a long time ago. Maybe it had; he couldn't
tell.

Shrugging, his eyes wandered from the window to the other furniture in the room. He had a small
table with a lamp, a bookcase and a wardrobe. He couldn't see his wand. An uneasy feeling swept
through him.

“Hello?” he called out. A few seconds later he heard someone come up the stairs. A short girl
with blonde hair walked in. She looked a little weary, but she didn't look scared of him.

“Oh,” she said. “You're awake. About time.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Do you know where I can find a bathroom?”

The girl pointed out the door she had just came in from. “Out there and the first door to the
left. Shouldn't be so difficult to find, or do you want me to draw you a map?”

“It will be fine,” said Harry, annoyed by the way she talked to him.

After he had done his business and washed his hands, he came back and saw that she had taken the
curtains away from the window so that the room bathed in sunlight. Harry had to blink; it was too
much light at once. He was used to dark rooms and walls and he liked it that way. However, he knew
he was in no position to complain. She looked like she wouldn't hesitate to throw him out if he
gave her a reason to do so.

“Where is my wand?”

“Sorry?” said the girl, looking at him as though he was mad. It occurred to him that she might
be a Muggle and he instantly felt more uncomfortable. Muggles were below him, but yet she was the
one in charge. Besides, he could get in trouble for revealing too much to her. He was actually a
little tempted to be thrown back to the street just to escape from the situation he had gotten
himself into.

“The ... uhm, stick. It is a toy wand and I promised to keep it,” he said lamely, kicking
himself mentally for the bad excuse.

“I threw it out. It's probably still outside somewhere.”

Harry felt himself go cold. “You did *what?”*

”Sorry,” said the girl with a shrug. ”I didn't realize it had *emotional* value to
you.” She seemed to be waiting for something because she kept looking at Harry as though he was
meant to say something.

”So …” he tried. “Where am I?”

”In Ealing,” she said. ”West London.”

”When did I get here?”

”Six days ago. You had a very high fever.”

Harry nodded, already knowing he had been sick. ”What is your name?”

”Annie Highwater,” she said, holding her head high. ”And I've been dying to know your
name.”

”I am Harry … Potter, I think. I do not know for sure.”

”You have a memory loss?” asked the girl with a skeptical frown. When Harry nodded, she sighed.
”That's great. Just what I need! A homeless beggar that doesn't remember where he comes
from. Just great!”

”I am not a beggar!” said Harry fiercely. ”And I know where I came from, but I can't go back
there.” Seeing her confused look, he figured that he had to add some more into his explanation.
”Look, when I first lost my memory, I did not know where I was. A group of … people took me in.
They were violent and harsh though and they wanted me completely under their control. So I ran. If
I go back now, they will definitely kill me.”

”You don't know that,” said Annie, looking annoyed but intrigued at the same time.

Harry sent her a challenging look. ”Yes, I do. Trust me, they will. They are the most powerful
group in Britain and they do not take betrayal easily.”

Annie sat down on the bed and curled her right leg up underneath her, still looking skeptical.
"Let's say that what you are saying is true for a moment … how did you 'betray'
them? What are you going to do about it?”

Harry stared at her, not used to talking like that. Again he wished for his wand; he'd feel
so much stronger and confident with it. If he had it, he could just use the Imperious Curse on her
and tell her to let him stay until he knew where to go. He realized he had to do this the hard way;
namely gain her trust in one way or the other. He should be able to do that, he was a good
manipulator. He licked his lips and looked down to make her think he was more vulnerable than what
he really was. "Well, they tried to frame me for murdering a couple of people not too far from
here and I would not go along with it.”

The girl was silent for a moment, before she gasped and clasped her hands in front of her mouth.
"You mean the Smiths? I knew them! I used to watch their dog! They always asked me to take
care of it if they were going away for a weekend or two. It died last summer of cancer.”

”Yes, I think they were the Smiths,” said Harry wearily, praying intensely that she would take
his words at face value and not get the idea that he could be lying. Or worse, believing that
*he* had done it. He would be in real trouble if she did.

”Wow…” said the girl, lost in thoughts. ”You don't happen to know how they died, do
you?”

”No, sorry.”

”The police think it was because of the blood loss, but I don't know. I have a feeling
there's something more than that.”

Harry kept his face and voice as impassive as possible, only letting a small streak of curiosity
out. It wasn't a problem for him anymore, he had become a good liar. ”Really? Like what?”

”That's just it, isn't it? Nobody knows for sure.” Annie suddenly seemed aware of that
she was talking to a complete stranger and jolted to her feet. ”Dinner's in an hour. Come down
whenever you're ready and make yourself useful.”

Harry stared after her retreating form. She wasn't *gorgeous,* but there was something
about her that he liked. She didn't seem like the type who was afraid to say what was on her
mind.

Smiling slightly, Harry went to the wardrobe and found his old clothes in the top drawer. The
clothes were clean but not ironed, but he knew he had to live with it. Scooping up the familiar
looking clothes in his arms, he found the way to the bathroom to take a shower.

-

When he came down again Annie was preparing something strange in the oven.

”You like pizza don't you? That's all I had left in the freezer.”

”Erm, sure,” said Harry uncertainly, staring at what looked like cheese and tomatoes. It
didn't look like anything he had seen before, but it didn't smell too bad and he wanted to
know what it tasted like. Harry went out of the kitchen and into the dining room, where he sat down
by the small table and waited.

A few minutes later Annie came out with the smoking pizza on a round plate, wearing something
Harry had never seen a human wear before: oven gloves.

He concealed his surprise, but he couldn't help but stare.

”What?” asked Annie, looking down at her cleavage. ”Are my breasts falling out or
something?”

Harry blushed. ”No! I wasn't looking at them, I was looking at your, uhm, gloves.”

”Sure,” said Annie with more than a little sarcasm in her voice, setting the pizza down at the
table. ”Help yourself.”

“Thanks,” said Harry carefully, not daring to look at her again for several minutes.

-

After Harry had wolfed down as much as he could of the pizza, someone knocked on the door.

“I'll get it,” said Annie quickly as she left the table. Harry sipped on some water, which
he noticed tasted a little funny. It definitely wasn't bottled water.

He waited for several minutes, but Annie didn't return. Curious, but also a little nervous
because he was still lacking a wand, he got up too and slowly walked towards the exit.

If the Death Eaters had found him already he had no idea what to do.

The house was still new to him, but it was fairly small so he had no problems finding the right
way. Harry couldn't help but think that the whole apartment had to be the size of an average
room back in the Stone Edge.

Annie wasn't inside, but he could hear a heated argument right outside the door. Harry
inched forward and pressed his ear to the side of the door and listened.

“Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It's only for a few days!”

“You think I'll believe that? Do you think I'm stupid? I know where this will lead to! I
know how you are.”

The first voice clearly belonged to Annie, but the second one belonged to a male.

“It wouldn't hurt you to trust me once in a while you know. Just because *you* can be a
little `loose' doesn't mean that I am too,” came Annie's voice again.

“Don't change the subject! I don't like you being too close to other guys, especially
not living with them. I want you to throw him out today!”

“Or what?”

“You know very well what.”

“Luke ... please. He's in no condition to take care of himself yet. I may be a cold person,
but I'm not *that* cold.”

“I'm warning you, Ann...”

“Dammit! I said I would come to you tomorrow night and I will! Now shut up and go!”

Harry could hear the conversation ending. Faster than he thought he was capable of in his
condition, he retreated back quietly to where he had been. He shot her a small smile when she came
back, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.

“Done yet?” she asked. “Then put away your dishes. Don't expect me to do it for you.”

“All right,” said Harry, managing to hold back a frown. He had never cleaned dishes before.

Luckily, Annie took her own dishes before him. She washed them in hot water and soap before
drying them with a towel. Then she put the dishes back to where they belonged. Harry smirked to
himself as he mimicked her movements.

Despite being a little clumsy it wasn't too hard. He felt oddly pleased with himself. Next
time though, he would use his wand and charm the plates clean. He still had some wizard-pride left
in him.

Just as he thought that, he felt his mark burn. If he had been two minutes later with cleaning
the dishes he would've dropped something, for the pain took him completely by surprise.

At first it started as a little sting, but then the full blow of it hit him and he crumpled to
his knees. Every instinct told him to just *push the mark and Apparate,* but he knew he
couldn't. He would be killed on the spot. Feeling his eyes water, he slowly rose to his feet
again, aware of Annie's look at him.

“Either you're a very good actor, or something's hurting you,” she said
matter-of-factly. “Go back to bed and I'll call the doctor again.”

“That's not necessary-”

“Yes it is. I refuse to be the reason that you get seriously ill. I'd rather be on the safe
side. You can either go back to bed or you can leave this house. It's up to you, but you're
not staying where you are now.”

Harry sent her a sour look but did as he was told and returned to bed. It already felt like a
sanctuary to him and right then he just wanted to be alone with his pain. A pain that continued to
burn for a whole hour.

-

Having a doctor to see him again reminded Harry very much of the time he had woken up after
taking the second dose of the potion. This time, however, he had no wand and there was no Bellatrix
nearby. He almost missed her; her wicked nature made her a cool person to be around. She kept him
on his toes constantly. She would've known what to do in his situation. She would never have to
sink down to the level where she had to wash dishes with a Muggle to not get kicked out to the
streets. Of course, she would never be a chicken-shit like him and escape from the Dark Lord
either.

The doctor took several tests, but he ended up saying that Harry was simply exhausted and needed
more time to recover. (“Tell me, have you been under stress lately?”) He also told Harry that he
needed to be careful about his blood pressure, because it was quite high.

Harry almost snorted. Raising his head up so he stared the doctor fully into his eyes, he gave
him the ugliest glare he could produce. “Yes! I will be careful.”

The doctor's confidence staggered a little and he did what looked like a double - take. He
cleared his throat. “Then I strongly recommend you to change whatever has you under pressure. If
you continue like this then you never know when your heart can't take it any longer and a vein
bursts. I would also recommend you to avoid salt as much as possible, especially in food. You must
also dress properly when you're outside so the fever won't come back.”

“I will keep it in mind,” muttered Harry sourly. He didn't know much about high blood
pressure, but it didn't sound like a good thing.

“I'd say `I hope to see you again,' but that wouldn't be very lucky would it?” said
the doctor in a feeble attempt to joke. Harry just glared at him. The man should be happy he
hadn't ended up like the other doctor who had checked Harry.

When the doctor had left Annie turned to Harry with a stern expression on her face. “Now, that
wasn't too bad, was it? No need to be rude though, we *are* doing you a favor.”

Harry opened his mouth but had to close it again when he was unable to think of something clever
to say.

Annie just rolled her eyes and left the room, leaving Harry alone to his thoughts.

-

Harry stayed in his new room for a long time that evening, only leaving once to go to the
bathroom. At some point he also fell asleep in his bed. He had only meant to rest for a while, but
the bed was so soft he couldn't resist closing his eyes.

He woke up later by Annie entering his room again, but he stayed still and kept his eyes closed
so she wouldn't ask him questions. Only after he knew she had gone to bed herself did he get
up. He walked softly down the staircase in the dark, careful not to make any sound. He felt the way
down with his hand on the rail.

The whole house was covered in blackness and as Harry already had a bad vision - even with his
glasses - he didn't see much. Fortunately, he made it down without any incidents. The dark
shadows in the corner of the room played tricks on his mind, making him want to do the whole thing
quicker.

After putting on some shoes, he unlocked the front door and crept through it. The frosty winter
night felt like needles against his almost naked skin, and he turned back and took one of
Annie's jackets. It helped, but he was still freezing as he began to search the ground outside.
The wand had to be there somewhere, it just had to, even though it had been a week since his
arrival. What would he do if he lost it? He couldn't get himself a new one when he was a wanted
man wherever he went.

Pausing, Harry did the only thing he could think of: *“Accio wand.”* For a moment he
didn't think it had worked, but suddenly the Dark Lord's wand came soaring through the air,
right into his hand. He breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar feeling of power returned to him;
his whole body shaking with anticipation and excitement. Lifting his hands to the stars in the sky
in a moment of inspiration, he grinned widely. For the first time in a very long time, he felt some
hope return to him.

-

For the next week he stayed in Annie's little compartment, trying to enjoy life as much as
he could and recover. Even though his attempts seemed a little half-hearted at times - something
Annie noticed - he resisted the urge to obliviate her. It felt rather nice to have company, even
though she continued to be rude to him and make not - so - subtle hints that she could throw him
out whenever she wanted to. Harry just smirked, he had come to realize that she enjoyed his company
as well, at least compared to that *Luke Joans* guy. Luke Joans was a man that seemed harmless
on the outside, but who would turn violent after a few drinks. When Annie had returned the morning
after her little night with him, she had a bruise on her chin that she refused to tell where she
got it from and was horribly tense. Harry wasn't stupid; he knew right away that Luke had hit
her. However, even with that knowledge Harry did nothing to stop her from seeing him. It wasn't
his problem what she decided to do with her life and he wasn't planning on staying with her for
long anyway.

He had also begun a new hobby that he found entertaining and satisfying. At night, when he felt
restless from all the build-up tension in his body, he would open the window and summon a bird.
They were good toys to play with, and it wouldn't raise as much suspicion as playing with
*humans* did.

The birds always put up a struggle, but after he had summoned them through his window and closed
their only ways out, they had pretty much lost the chance of survival. Harry would first make them
do funny things under the Imperious Curse, like flying full speed into the wall before tumbling to
the ground. There - as the impact seldom injured them severely, just knocked them out - he liked to
use the Cruciatus Curse on them, making them thrash and make ear-piercing, desperate sounds from
their tiny throats. Then he would kill them with a carefully aimed Avada Kedavra. The Dark Arts had
long since made him addicted and he was unable to stop doing them. It was the only thing that would
let him sleep at night, instead of laying restless and shaking in his bed. After he was done he
would open the window and throw the bird out, before he cleaned whatever mess the bird had
inflicted in the room. After that he would remove the silencing charm he always had on the walls
before summoning a bird, so Annie wouldn't wake up and come to investigate what was going on.
That would most certainly create problems for him and he would have to do something about it.

As it was, that did not happen. Harry got to do it again and again without being discovered, for
which he was glad. To his confusion, however, he had mysterious dreams about a girl he couldn't
see, but obviously felt something for. It didn't make sense to him.

He could remember a few glances. He and that girl sitting a train, talking about something. He
and that girl sitting in front of the fire, the girl stroking a ginger cat across its fur. He and
that girl lying in a small meadow in a forest, looking at the stars. He could remember her saying
something about the possibility of someone looking down at them. Then he remembered sitting on a
fence with her, holding her soft hands. Even though he couldn't make out the outline of her
face, he knew that something made her face shift from one colour to the other.

Red, blue, green...

Harry often had trouble sleeping because of that, but also because his mark tended to burn in
the later hours of the day and would cause him headaches. He was sure Annie noticed the bags under
his eyes and that he had little energy to do much, but she didn't mention it once.

Not that he expected her to.

She did, however, do the strangest thing he could remember someone doing for him:

She rented a DVD for Harry, and they sat on the couch for several hours, not saying a word, but
just enjoying each other's presence.

All in all, Harry was glad he had run away. He shuddered to think of what would've happened
to him if he hadn't. He knew things were far from over, however. He had a strong feeling that
it was just the beginning of something big that would happen very soon. Like it was just the quiet
before the storm.

If only he knew what to do about it.

-->



33. Owl Post
------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me. Special thanks to Anna Rose for betaing and keeping me
from making a big mistake.

-

Ch 33: **OWL POST**

Only in dreams

We see what it means

Reach out our hands

Hold on to hers

But when we wake

It's all been erased

And so it seems

Only in dreams

**(Only in Dreams by Weezer)**

While Harry was sitting in front of the television with Annie, another girl many miles away was
trying to post a letter. She had been very careful with her wording, but the end result had been
the same: a desperate plea for Harry to come back to Hogwarts and, more importantly, to her.

The girl had even taken extra care in including a portkey with the letter. She wanted Harry to
be able to escape unnoticed from wherever he was as easy as possible. However, as no one knew
exactly where Harry was and whether or not he would have a chance in using the portkey himself,
they had to make sure it lead to a controlled area. For all they knew a Death Eater would take it.
The portkey would therefore take Harry straight to Dumbledore's office, just in case.

Hermione hoped that Harry had managed to stay out of the Death Eaters grasp and that he was
still alive. All this time since Halloween she had not been able to do anything but worry. She
could stay awake a entire night without a problem. Even books didn't manage to capture her
attention for long anymore.

When Harry had disappeared it was as though a part of her had disappeared too. She doubted she
could ever go back to the way she was as long as Harry was missing, nor did she want to. She
deserved to suffer after the way she had treated him.

However, the part of her that still cared was angry at Harry. Not for being taken by the Death
Eaters, but for not coming back to her. The whole world knew he had escaped from Voldemort. She had
a hard time believing he just couldn't find a way; he had come to Hogwarts in a flying car in
his second year and now he even knew how to Apparate. It shouldn't be that difficult, so
something had to be holding him back. Had she really hurt him so much that he didn't want to
see her again?

Hermione's stomach made an unpleasant turn. If that was the case ... she doubted she could
ever live with herself. Harry was her everything and she had been stupid to believe they needed a
break. Looking back, she couldn't believe she had been so upset by McGonagall's words,
where the Professor had said that Hermione hadn't done quite as well on her latest tests as she
usually did.

“Come on now, Hedwig,” coaxed Hermione to the snowy owl on her shoulders. Hedwig's amber
eyes defiantly stared back at her. “Why won't you take it? It's for Harry!”

Hedwig flew from her shoulder and to the opposite wall of the room. Hedwig had never rejected
Hermione before; actually the owl usually seemed quite fond of her. Hermione couldn't
understand this sudden change.

“Please, Hedwig,” said Hermione, near tears now. Did this mean Harry was dead after all? Had the
reporters from the Daily Prophet made a mistake when they claimed they had seen Harry? She
didn't know what to believe, but she knew she couldn't lose him all over again. Not when
there was a chance that he could still be alive and that this letter could be all they needed to be
reunited. She just couldn't lose Harry.

However, Hedwig was firm in not making it easy for Hermione to fasten the letter and flapped her
wings stubbornly.

Hermione almost went frantic. She was now so angry and upset all at once that her face had a
startling, deep red colour. “FINE THEN!” she cried, “I'll just give this letter to another owl
then shall I?”

The owl blinked and seemed to consider her options. Hermione calmed down slightly.

-

*Harry was back in the Dark Lord's chamber. Harry recognized the room in all its glory,
including the potion he had been forced to take in the corner. He was amazed by the fact that the
potion no longer smelled so horrid. The sour smell had changed to be more bittersweet, almost
tempting. He wondered if it would taste different if he had to take the rest sometime.*

*Harry suddenly realized he was pointing his wand at a door quietly, waiting for something. He
had other things on his mind at the moment. He couldn't let his attention wander.*

*The something was revealed when the door burst open and three men came in. Two of them were
masked and muscular, dragging the third man between them carelessly. Harry recognized the pathetic
looking man instantly.*

*“Ah, Peter Pettigrew,” said Harry, glaring at the man dangerously. He loathed betrayers and
this man was the worst sort. The man whimpered and looked away, like he knew just what Harry was
thinking. “You are the traitor who helped the boy out!”*

*The two masked guards threw Pettigrew down to the floor. The small form of the man stayed
where he was, shaking pathetically. The whimpering soon changed to sobbing. Though, Harry had to
admit, the man had a good reason to be afraid.*

*“My Lord!” the man tried. “The boy forced me to! He had a life-debt over me, my Master, and I
had to comply!”*

*Harry twirled the wand made of holly wood and phoenix feather between his fingers. He sighed.
“Wormtail, Wormtail, Wormtail. You really do fit your name, do you not?”*

*“Master...”*

*“You have always been a rat.”*

*“Please, Master...”*

*“Pity though, considering you were the one who helped me back to power. However, I have no
use for you anymore. I cannot keep cowards here as much as I cannot keep traitors, and you fit the
two options perfectly!”*

*“What - what are you gonna do to me?” squeaked Pettigrew, glancing up at Harry with very
round, terrified eyes.*

*“Why, I shall kill you of course,” said Harry. He chuckled softly at the man's reaction.
“Goodbye Wormtail. Avada-”*

*“Master - WAIT!”*

*“-Kedavra!” The green light left Harry's wand and hit the small man in the head.
Pettigrew died instantly as his life was sucked out of his body with the curse. The silver hand
vanished as well, like it was nothing more than a ghost.*

-

Harry woke with a start. He lay panting in his bed for a while. His body was itching again, as
though he really had used the Killing Curse only moments ago in his dream. His entire body was
shaking with excitement and anticipation.

Harry forced his breathing to relax and even out. He really didn't want to get out of his
bed and he knew that if he didn't calm down immediately he had to kill even more birds. He also
noticed that his scar hurt a bit.

Harry closed his eyes and begged for sleep to come back for him. To his surprise, it did only
after a few minutes.

-

Harry was amazed that he had managed to stay with Annie for so long without going crazy. It had
been fifteen days since he had stumbled in her arms by accident. They didn't even get along all
that great and they constantly snapped at each other. However, since when did Harry get along with
anybody? In fact, if it hadn't been for Annie's tough and sometimes rude attitude, they
would have gotten along even less. Harry knew where her boundaries lay and as long as he stayed
outside of them she would respect his.

The `movie night' as Annie had called it the night before had gone well and Harry had found
himself enjoying it. It was a nice way to get his mind on other things. It wasn't exactly a
very wizard-thing to do, but Harry found himself caring less and less. No wizard had found him yet
and no one knew where he was. Usually it would just be him and Annie in the little compartment. As
long as it stayed that way, he had no rush to find another place to live.

Harry soon discovered that she liked to party. Every Friday and Saturday night, she would leave
the house with a bag full of alcoholic drinks and disappear. Harry enjoyed these nights because he
could do whatever he wanted, but he couldn't help but feel that he missed out on some fun.

He watched with amusement every time she came home, very drunk but grinning from ear to ear and
giggling like a little school girl. She was easy to handle then. However, one time she had been so
drunk that Harry had been forced to hold her hair up while she puked over the sink. One night she
didn't even come home until the day after. Harry guessed her boyfriend had something to do with
that.

Harry stretched his muscles as he walked down the stairs at nine o'clock that morning. There
was light in the kitchen and Annie sat by the table as he entered, sipping to her morning
coffee.

“Hi,” he said, getting a nod in return. He sat down in front of her. It took some time before
either of them said anything.

“Sleep well?” she finally asked, setting the cup down at the table.

“Yes, but I had this weird dream,” said Harry, thinking back.

“Oh? What about?”

Harry frowned slightly. He knew he couldn't tell her about the part where Pettigrew was
killed, so he settled on telling her the other things he had dreamt that night. “That's just
it. I can't remember much of it. I think it could be something from my former life though.”

“Really?” asked Annie, sounding only mildly interested.

Harry didn't care. He just wanted to talk to someone about it. “I cannot understand it,” he
said. “I see myself dancing with someone ... everything was perfect. I remember she had her hair in
a ponytail, a red top and a black skirt... yet, I cannot remember her face! It does not make any
sense! Then I remember following her to someplace. She was very upset. That is where I woke up. I
just ... wish I knew what it was all about. It can be important. It felt important.”

Annie tapped the rim of the cup with her finger, thinking. “Sure it wasn't just a
dream?”

“No,” said Harry, already having thought about the possibility. “But I have dreamt of her
before. I am beginning to think there is more to it.”

“Hum,” was all Annie said. She got up from the table, taking the cup with her. “Go make yourself
some breakfast. I've already had some.”

“Okay,” said Harry and followed her into the kitchen. He took out a bowl, a box of corn cereal
and some milk. He had quickly taken a liking to the simple and good way to start the day.

-

Later that day, Harry watched Annie as she prepared to go out. She had afternoon classes to
attend to five days a week and after she was done there she usually went to her boyfriend. Harry
noticed she didn't seem too eager to get going and she almost used an eternity putting on her
jacket.

“You know,” said Harry, “If you don't like him anymore, you could just break up.”

Annie paused, her hands still buttoning on her jacket. She quickly bent down to put on her
shoes. “That's none of your business. Even if it were, I wouldn't have time to stay and
chat. I only have eight minutes before the bus leaves without me, and I need to hurry.”

“Fair enough,” said Harry, knowing Muggles depended on other ways of transportation than Wizards
did. “Wouldn't it be cool to just *appear* wherever you wanted, whenever you wanted? Just
like that?” he asked casually and snapped his fingers.

“Huh?” she looked questionably at him and tucked some blonde hair behind her ear with her
fingers. “What are you talking about?”

“Just imagine how it would be like. You would never have to take another bus in your life.”

“I s'pose. How do I look?” Annie shrugged and waited for his answer. Harry suddenly had a
feeling there was more behind that question than what she made it sound like. She didn't look
very different from what she normally did, but her jacket clung nicely to her body and she had a
necklace with the letter `A' around her neck. He decided on something safe.

“You look good. I don't think Luke will have any problems with it.”

“Thanks,” said Annie after a pregnant pause. “I'll be home by ten. Bye.”

Harry watched her leave the house and went to shut the front door. He found himself standing on
the same spot for a long time, deep in his thoughts. If he closed his eyes, he could practically
see the girl from his dream, coming out from a bathroom. He could practically hear her asking him
almost the same question Annie had just done while twirling around, making her brown hair flow
around her neck elegantly.

“Beautiful,” Harry echoed to himself. He suddenly knew he had to find this girl from his dream.
There had to be a reason she would appear in his mind all the time.

If only he could remember her face.

Harry shook his head and forced his thoughts to return to the present. He knew he couldn't
dwell with his past. He was still a Death Eater, but he could never return to his master. He would
get killed instantly if he refused the potion. He could never offer himself to the weak and light
side either, because there he was a wanted criminal. He laughed shortly when he thought what Annie
would say if she knew she was keeping a wanted convict in her house.

Harry was glad Annie rarely brought her boyfriend back to her apartment. He knew it wasn't
his business, but he didn't like seeing them together. It made him uneasy. Luke Joans never
treated her well. Despite the harsh nature Harry was used to with the Death Eaters, he knew she
deserved better.

-

After she had left, Harry went up to the room he began to think of as his to relax a little.
However, he had only laid there for a couple of minutes when he was interrupted by a knock on the
window. He turned his head and his eyes widened in amazement.

An owl? For him?

His heart began racing as he quickly drew his wand. It had to be a trap, it just had to be. He
didn't know anyone who would send him an owl without having something to gain from it.

The owl was white and pretty. Harry instinctually knew it was a female. He still hadn't
opened his window to let the owl in, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Perhaps doing a quick
search over the letter would be a good idea?

His nerves on high alert, Harry opened the window with a spell and the owl flew in before
landing on his bed, sticking out its leg and hooting softly. Harry didn't move, but instead
raised his wand to do another spell.

First he checked the letter for Dark Arts, but couldn't find anything. He was surprised,
however, when he realized it had a hidden portkey in it. Harry gritted his teeth in anger and felt
his blood boil.

*Did they really think he was that stupid?* It was an insult to his intelligence!

Deciding it was not too early in the day for a little fun, Harry closed the window again with a
*snap.* Then he turned to the owl, who's amber eyes widened in fear. Harry grinned.

“What do you have for me little one?” He raised his wand, deciding what to do first. “Finite
Incantatum!” The spell destroyed the portkey with a loud crack that sent the both of them jumping
in the air. The owl, however, did not return to the bed but instead to Harry's shoulder,
nibbling his ear.

Harry quickly brushed her off with his arms. “Get off Hedwig!” he snapped angrily. Who did this
stupid bird think it was anyway? Owls weren't supposed to behave like that. They were supposed
to deliver the letter and then fly off again. He would be better off if he killed it.

Harry raised his wand again, trying to decide if he should torture or simply kill it right away.
The owl's muscles tensed but the creature didn't move.

“You are not like most birds, are you?” asked Harry, not lowering his wand. By the way the owl
glared back with its amber eyes made Harry think that he had said something to offend it.

Only then did he realize he had called the owl by name. The shock made him drop his wand.

“Hedwig, was it?” he breathed. Was it possible? Was he finally starting to remember things?

The owl hooted happily and flew back to his shoulder. Harry noticed how careful she was to not
hurt him with her talons. He remembered the owls around the Stone Edge and how they seemed to be
trained in how to make it hurt as much as possible.

“Pretty name. Whoever named you must have a good taste.” Harry stroked her beak hesitantly. The
owl seemed to agree with what he had said because she rubbed her head against Harry's neck.

“Stop that,” he told the owl. “Bellatrix would never leave me alone if she saw this. You have no
idea how annoying she can be.”

Harry suddenly remembered Hedwig had brought a letter with her. Frowning, he freed her leg off
the parchment. Other than the portkey he had cancelled, the letter didn't seem to have been
tampered with.

Harry returned to his bed and sat down. The owl didn't leave his shoulder. It was like she
had decided to never let him off her sight again.

Harry opened the letter and started to read.

-->



34. A Girl Named Hermione
-------------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Special thanks to Anna Rose!

-

Ch34: **A GIRL NAMED HERMIONE**

The hand that wrote this letter

Sweeps the pillow clean

So rest your head and read a treasured dream

I care for no one else but you

I tear my soul to cease the pain

I think maybe you feel the same

What can we do?

I'm not quite sure what we're supposed to do

So I've been writing just for you

**(Letter to Hermione by David Bowie** - sorry, I couldn't resist!)

*Dear Harry,*

*First of all, I hope you are all right. I can't even begin to imagine what you must have
gone through. Snape showed Ron and I a little of ... your situation in a Pensieve and it looked
terrible. It breaks my heart to know that what I saw only was a small part of it and that you have
suffered for* so *long with the Death Eaters.*

*Everybody told me I had to prepare myself for the fact that I may never see you again. I
refused to believe all hope was lost, however. I know you, you're a fighter. A real hero. If
anybody can survive it's you. The thing is, when the mirror you gave me stopped working I had
no choice but to believe you had died. I didn't know what to do. I'm nothing without
you.*

*Recently I saw an article about you in the Daily Prophet. They claimed they had seen you in
Diagon Alley and that you are still alive. Of course, we both know that we have to take
everything* that *paper says with a grain of salt, but so many saw you that day. I actually
went there to ask around. Even Tom was certain he had seen you, even though you looked very
different from what you used to. (I must admit I'm a little worried about that.) Another person
I talked to assured me that he had even seen your scar. It must mean you are still alive, so I
don't know what happened to the mirror. It's still not working.*

Harry only understood half of what the letter said. Yes, he had been with the Death Eaters for a
long time, but he hadn't suffered all that much from what he could remember. Except from the
potion, there wasn't much to complain about being the Dark Lord's Heir. He had also been in
Diagon Alley, but only for a short time because he had been trying to get away from the Death
Eaters and the Aurors. The person who had written the letter made it sound like he or she knew him.
He refused to believe the letter had been sent to the wrong person so that meant it had to be
someone from his former life.

Harry almost bounced in his bed from excitement, but a part of him couldn't help feeling
suspicious. He continued reading.

*Here at Hogwarts things seem to be just the way they have always been for the untrained eye,
but it's not. It's simply not the same without you. The tension has been thick ever since
you got taken, but it's better now as people know you are still out there somewhere. Draco does
his best to take control over the DA. I think he frightens the other students. He's much worse
than Zacharias Smith! No one (except Ron, Ginny and I) dare to fight him anymore. He uses a lot of
dirty tricks all the time. Now that can be a great way to learn tactics, but the DA is faltering.
Fewer and fewer show up at the meetings. We're not a team anymore.*

*Ron and I argued a lot in the beginning after you were taken. We seem to have reached a sort
of understanding now though. We're not what we used to be but we're friends.*

*Sorry, I'm babbling. Just thought you may be interested in what's going on here. I
suppose I should get to the reason I'm writing this letter in the first place.*

*I miss you terribly. Please come back. We need you. I don't know what to do without you.
I'm really sorry for the way I treated you that night. You must think I'm a horrible
person. You didn't deserve it and I shouldn't have said what I said. I should've known
that Lestrange wouldn't be the only one they would send to get you. I should've stayed with
you as I said I would. I don't think I can ever forgive myself. I beg you, give me another
chance and come back. Use the portkey I added with this letter. Come back to me. Please.*

*I know we can win this war if you do. I know we can fight anything as long as we're
together.*

*With all my heart,*

*Hermione*

Harry didn't know what to feel or what to believe. The name Hermione did sound familiar to
him, but he had no idea from where. It could be the same girl as the one from his dream, but where
was the chance in that? He wondered if this girl meant Bellatrix or Rodolphus when she said that
`Lestrange had come for him.' That had to be when the Dark Lord had sent for him. What Harry
didn't understand was if the Dark Lord had done more to get him or if Harry had come by his own
free will. He thought he had, but the letter made it sound as though they getting him had been a
bad thing.

What Harry did realize, however, was that he had been to Hogwarts before he arrived at Stone
Edge. He knew that was the place where the children of many Death Eaters went. Harry wondered if he
was close friends with any of them, or if this Hermione girl was or would be a Death Eater as well.
She hadn't told him her last name. Her parents could be anyone.

There was another letter as well. Only that one was from another person and wasn't nearly as
long. The handwriting wasn't as neat as Hermione's either, so Harry figured it had to be a
male.

*Hi Harry.*

*How are you? I guess that's a stupid question. Of course you're not all right.
I'm just not as good on this stuff as Hermione is. You're my best pal and I hope you come
back. We have a game of chess to finish.*

*Sorry I didn't know what else to say. I'd rather talk to you in person.*

*Ron.*

Harry sighed. If anything he was even more confused. He had no idea who this `Ron' person
was either.

He decided to write a reply back to the both of them.

*Hermione and Ron,*

*I have no idea what you are talking about. Please explain.*

*Harry.*

He turned to Hedwig who was still resting on his shoulder.

“Take this back for me girl. I don't care who gets it.” The owl gave the letter Harry had in
his hand an ugly look, like she would rather eat fruit than deliver it. She turned her head and
stared defiantly the other way.

“Do not be a baby. You are an owl and owls are supposed to deliver letters!” The owl cleaned her
feathers for a moment with a disgruntled expression, but in the end she gave in and stuck out her
foot.

“See? That was not so difficult, now was it?” Harry rose from his bed and opened the window.
“Here you go. Now go on.”

When Hedwig refused, Harry took a firm grip with both hands under her body and threw her out the
window. The owl dropped a few feet, but quickly regained control and continued her mission.

Harry laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time. He wondered slightly if he had
two versions of himself. One that longed to cause pain and have as much power as possible and
another part who longed after making things right and be accepted by the people around him. It
seemed to be affected by his mood, but the problem was that his mood was just about as predictable
as the weather. It could be sunny one day and rainy and stormy the next without warning.

The thing that confused Harry the most was definitely himself.

-

-

By midnight Harry started to worry about Annie. She had promised to come home two hours ago and
she usually rang if she changed her mind. Of course, Harry knew there was a possibility that she
had simply forgotten about it or decided she didn't need to tell him everything she decided to
do in her free time, but it would be very unlike her. He hoped her boyfriend hadn't done
anything to hurt her. If she disappeared Harry had no one to go to and he rather enjoyed her
company.

She rarely asked him questions about his past and if she did Harry knew she would have the right
to know. She never asked him to do something out of the ordinary and she seemed to know when he
needed to be alone. She respected him without being scared. If he acted like a selfish brat she
would tell him so. It was good to know where he had her. It made him feel like he had some control
over the situation he was in.

Harry finally heard Annie arrive half past twelve. He pondered a moment whether or not he should
say hello to her or pretend he was sleeping, but in the end he decided he wanted to know why she
had been so late.

Apparently, Annie wasn't doing all that great. She had a angry, lavender colour mark in her
cheek and Harry realized she was going to have an ugly bruise. That Luke Joans guy really had the
nerve to hit her in the face?

“Annie?”

When she saw she was not alone she quickly turned her face away from him. “Hi, sorry I'm
late,” she replied, breathing deeply as though she was trying very hard not to sob. She fumbled
with her purse as though she was looking for something, but Harry suspected she only did it to keep
her hands occupied.

Harry didn't buy it, but he also didn't know what to say her. Was this really his
problem? Was it his responsibility now, to make sure she was all right since she had done the same
for him?

When Harry thought about it, he realized that it was his responsibility now. He owed her his
life for taking him in. It was like an unofficial life-debt. He wouldn't die if he didn't
repay it because she was a Muggle, but he felt as though he had to do something. It was below him
as a wizard not to do so.

“I'll go to bed soon,” whispered Annie, still with her back to him. “You don't have to
wait up.”

“Lord,” breathed Harry. “What did he do to you?”

Annie stiffened. “Nothing. We had a row that's all.”

“He hit you, did he not?” said Harry, not really asking.

“Well, yeah, but-“

“I will kill him,” said Harry, meaning it.

“-*but* I broke up with him like you suggested,” finished Annie, ignoring what Harry had
said. Harry noticed her voice quivered slightly when she continued. “I realized it couldn't
keep going the way it had. That doesn't matter now though. It's not like he'll have the
chance to do anything anymore.”

“Okay,” said Harry. “But he better not bother you again. Or me for that matter.”

“He said I wouldn't get rid of him that easily,” replied Annie hesitantly. “He was quite
angry. It sounded like a threat, though on the other hand he often says things he doesn't
mean.” She had stopped searching her purse. Instead she turned around and was looking at Harry with
a rather odd expression.

“What?” he asked.

“Thank you. For being here. I didn't know you had it in you.”

“Me neither,” Harry confessed. He knew he had changed in the short time he had been in West
London. He suddenly had a reason to care about other things than himself and the Dark Lord's
wishes. He suddenly found himself incapable to hurt an owl he could barely remember the name of.
Harry felt a cold shiver run down his back. Did that make him weak? Would that make him an easy
target?

Maybe it was his way to rebel against the Dark Lord. He could still feel the affect the potion
had on him, like something was waiting for him in the back of his mind. However, as long as it
didn't grow stronger he knew he was more than capable of controlling it. He would not succumb
to the darkness, to nothing.

Harry cleared his throat and looked Annie square in the eye. “Would it not be wonderful to have
*something* to protect yourself with? *Something* that you can use as a weapon if you
wish, only it is not a gun. Would it not be wonderful to give Luke a little bit of his own
medicine? How much would you hurt him to feel you have given him an appropriate punishment?” Harry
didn't know why he was asking her these questions, but found himself waiting anxiously on her
answer.

Annie was looking at him with a slightly suspicious glint in her eye. “I wouldn't kill him
if that's what you want to know. I'd be tempted to cut off his manly pride though. Maybe
that'll cut his ego down a notch. But I'm not sure what kind of weapon you're talking
about. There's lots of things you can protect yourself with, but it's not common to carry
those items wherever you go.”

“You should have something,” said Harry seriously. “You never know when you may need it. You may
not know it, but we are living in very uncertain times. There is a war going on between two
different groups in our society.”

“Were you from one of these groups?” asked Annie quietly. Harry realized that his attempt on
getting her mind on other things were only half working and that she was still thinking about it.
Either that, or it was her way to try to know more about his past.

On the bright side, she was not crying.

“Yes, I was,” Harry finally replied. “That is why I know. I just want you to be prepared in case
something happens.”

Annie walked over to him then, suddenly, and placed a warm palm on his cheek. “You are sweet. I
am really glad I took you in.” She removed her hand again. Harry noticed her eyes were very blue,
especially in the dark. She looked a little uncertain.

“Can you stay with me tonight? I don't want to be alone. Not after what *he* did.”

Harry hesitated only for just a moment. His mind immediately returning to the way Bellatrix had
tried to seduce him. It had been a fun game, but very dangerous. This was very different. This was
*Annie.* A girl that had saved him. Now it was his turn to return the favour.

Harry smiled at her, suddenly feeling a little shy. “Yes.”

Annie gave him a quick, grateful hug. “Thank you! Let me just brush my teeth and I'll be
right up.”

-

It was weird not to sleep in the same bed as he had been sleeping in the last weeks, Harry
concluded as he laid down beside Annie, who let one of her arms rest across his chest.

Annie's bed was much larger than his and she had different sheets with a large, knitted
blanket over the both of them. Her curtains were knitted too and the walls were filled with
pictures and paintings. She had told him a quick story about how she used to draw when she was
younger and how she never seemed to find the time anymore. Harry thought they were quite good and
had told her so, but she had brushed it off like it was nothing.

For some reason, Harry thought the walls missed bookshelves. It seemed natural to him that every
room should have at least one set of school books. Besides, books could give him a better idea of
who Annie was as a person. He had began to know her quite well of course, but he didn't know
any of her secrets and he didn't know simple stuff as her favourite colour.

It didn't take long before Annie was fast asleep. She breathed heavily, but otherwise she
didn't make a sound. She let her hand support her head, only using a small corner of the pillow
to sleep on.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He was feeling like a mess again with all that was going on in
his life. The few things he did remember only served to confuse him. He wondered if normal people
like Annie ever felt the way he did. He supposed they could all be uncertain about their futures
and afraid their boyfriends may hit them, but could it really be compared?

Harry didn't think so.

-

Harry never slept well that night and he opened his eyes before Annie did. He had a lot of
unwanted, dark energy in him. He knew he had forgotten to get some of that energy out before he
went to bed and now he was paying for it. He found himself tired, restless and sweating. The cold
ball in his stomach forcefully reminded him that he should have taken action a long time ago. Harry
bit down on the pillow as hard as he could. He couldn't start cursing birds in Annie's room
and from the sight of it he was not getting out of his position easily.

Harry noticed that Annie's pillow was now completely abandoned and was laying on the floor.
Instead she was using *him* as a pillow and had tangled her smooth legs neatly between his.
Harry doubted he could move without waking her, but he tried anyway.

So much for the effort. As soon as he had struggled himself out of Annie's bed without
waking her, Annie's cell phone rang. She turned and reached for it - still half asleep - and
pushed down the little green button.

“Hello?” she asked groggily, her voice barely recognizable. Suddenly she sat up a little
straighter. “What? No!” She suddenly adapted a scared expression and her eyes became rather wild.
“Absolutely not! ... you wouldn't dare!”

Harry watched her, unmovingly. She had yet to realize he was there.

“What do you mean with `You'll wait and see?' What part of `bugger off' don't
you understand? NO! As a matter of fact, I'm visiting Christina tonight! ... that's none of
your business. You had your chance and you ruined it. Don't blame me for it and don't ever
call me again!” Annie hung up the phone and in a fit of anger she threw her phone away. It hit the
wall with an audible crash and fell apart, its pieces flying everywhere.

“It was *him,* was it not?” asked Harry unnecessary, eying her cautiously. Annie
started.

“Oh gosh, you scared me!” she seemed to sober up a little and eyed her now ruined phone with a
regretful look. “Yes, it was Luke. He's such a git. Thank God it's Friday.”

“Oh well,” said Harry, thinking that it didn't really matter for him as he didn't go
outdoors anyway. He only stayed in the house; sometimes with Annie, sometimes with a couple of
birds, sometimes alone.

Annie seemed to know what he was thinking. “Hey, why don't you come along tonight? You
haven't met Christina yet, have you?”

Now it was Harry's turn to be surprised. “What? *Oh.* No I have not, and yes I would
love to come with you.” Annie flashed him a bright smile. Harry smiled back carefully.

“Brilliant! We leave at six o'clock this afternoon. Make sure to be ready by then! I only
have three hours of classes today so it shouldn't be a problem. What do you want to drink?”

“Drink?” asked Harry, but almost immediately realized she had to mean alcohol. “Oh. I do not
need anything.”

“Don't be stupid,” said Annie, looking annoyed. “What do you want?”

Harry fidgeted for a moment. “I suppose a bottle of wine is satisfactory.”

“Any special kind?” asked Annie distractedly, no longer sounding annoyed as she took some
clothes out of her wardrobe and put them on right in front of him. Harry tried not to be too
distracted, but it was rather hard. It wasn't everyday he had a girl changing clothes right in
front of him!

Harry wondered if he was supposed to look away or not. Didn't she want him to see her when
she changed right in front of him?

“Does not matter really,” he mumbled. “Buy one you like.”

“All right,” said Annie, pulling on some dark blue jeans. She suddenly noticed his gaze on her
and winked at him. Harry stared back at her with a challenging look, cursing himself mentally for
putting him in that position. Looking away was a sign of weakness and she probably knew it too.

Or else she was *definitely* getting the wrong idea.

When Annie was done dressing, she grabbed her makeup purse and headed for the bathroom. However,
when she walked past Harry she slowed her walk ever-so-little, letting her hand slide across his
chest lightly before continuing on her way. Harry shot her an incredulous look she didn't
notice and sat back down on her bed.

“Bloody hell!” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. Was *every* girl that crazy? That
flirting, that devious, that unpredictable?

Harry chuckled to himself. Here he was, the former Heir of the Dark Lord, sitting on a bed in a
Muggle house with a Muggle girl wondering if this girl was completely out of her mind. Something
was very wrong with that picture. On top of that, he noticed he was shivering like he was suffering
from fever. He knew he had to use Dark Arts and he had to use it now.

Harry eventually got up from his bed and bent down to pick up his shirt and wand. He never
noticed Annie returning before she was standing right in front of him. Harry started and the wand
fell down to the floor again with the shirt on top of it, fortunately blocking it from Annie's
sight.

“You seem awfully tense,” said Annie, reaching up to massage his head. Harry tensed
automatically, something that did nothing to dismiss her suspicions about him being tense.

“I am fine,” Harry insisted, but Annie was having none of it. Before he could think of a way to
gently get her mind on other things she had placed herself behind him and was working with her
hands on his back.

At first it was very painful and Harry wondered to himself why people would ever request for a
massage. Then, however, he felt himself relax. It felt rather good actually - he could practically
feel his blood stream ease and the knots on his back loosening.

Annie made a disapproving sound in the back of her throat. “If I didn't knew better I'd
say you'd never had an massage in your life, this is practically *dreadful,* you're
nothing but knots and knots and knots and knots...”

Harry gave a mental shrug and ignored her voice. How could he know if he ever had a massage or
not? As far as he knew he hadn't. What Annie did to his neck and back didn't feel familiar
at all.

Harry surprised himself when he felt a low moan escape his throat and his eyes widened in
surprise. *Moaning was unacceptable! Another sign of weakness! If he did that in the Dark
Lord's presence, he would get punished.*

Annie didn't seem to notice him moaning, or she found it completely normal. Harry smirked.
To *Obliviate* her because of something like that would be comical to look back at.

“There,” said Annie. “Feel better now?”

Harry nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Annie flashed him another bright smile before trotting out of the bedroom and down
to the kitchen. Harry picked up the Dark Lord's wand and went to the bedroom he was accustomed
to. There, he silenced the room, opened the window and summoned a bird.

-

The day went by in a flash. Before Harry knew it, it was time to go to Annie's friend
Christina. Harry had small regrets about the whole thing. It wasn't for a small reason that he
stayed in Annie's house all day. What if a Death Eater or an Auror spotted him? What would he
do then?

Annie found Harry a white shirt and some black jeans. Harry liked the clothes, they fit him and
made him look older somehow. It would also be easier for him to blend in the Muggle society, an
advantage he could need.

Harry tried not to complain too much when Annie attacked his hair with a comb. It was a lost
cause and they both knew it, but that didn't stop Annie from trying.

“Doesn't it *ever* lay flat?” she muttered, dragging him to the bathroom where she took
a handful of water and splashed it over his head.

“I just took a shower,” muttered Harry. “You do not need to make it wet all over again.”

Annie made a growling sound in the back of her throat and combed his hair rougher. Harry
wondered if she was ever that careless with her own hair, but by the look of her long, smooth hair
it was rather doubtful. She was wearing dark blue jeans and a dark green top that fit her figure
nicely. On the top of her head she wore a black, feminine hat. Her hair was neatly hanging on her
sides.

Harry's thoughts drifted back to the letter he had received the day before. He wanted to
know who Hermione was. He was curious about this Ron guy too, but Ron's letter had been so
short while Hermione's had been so much longer. More personate and more intimate. He was
certain he knew that girl from somewhere and she obviously knew things about him that he didn't
know himself. Perhaps if he met her he could learn some new things about his past?

-->



35. Live or Die Trying
----------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Ch 35: **LIVE OR DIE TRYING**

In the paper today

tales of war and of waste

but you turn right over to the TV page

Hey now, hey now

Don't dream it's over

Hey now, hey now

When the world comes in

They come, they come

To build a wall between us

We know they won't win

**(Don't Dream It's Over - Crowded House)**

Harry and Annie arrived at Christina's house an hour later. Her house was quite larger than
Annie's as she was still living with her parents, who were away for the weekend. As soon as the
girls saw each other they squealed and hugged fiercly. Harry shrugged off his jacket, hung it on
its proper place and kicked off his shoes. He double-checked to make sure that he still had his
wand in his left sleeve.

The girls broke apart and Christina helped Annie carry the shopping bags into the kitchen. Annie
threw Harry a beer.

“Here,” she said, “enjoy yourself.”

Harry grabbed the can with ease, but did not open it. He frowned of the idea of getting drunk;
he'd seen how it had affected other Death Eaters. The alcohol always affected them in the same
way - they would get childish, loud and clumsy. They would also get a poor judgement and a bad arm
when throwing spells. Harry had no desire for that to happen to him. Instead he went out to the
living room and saw modern looking furnitures, a black couch and a glass table. It also had a very
flat wide-screen and a exclusive music stereo system. Against his will Harry found himself admiring
the Muggle technology. Looking around more closely he saw several pictures on the wall; a wedding
picture and a few pictures of the other living humans in the house. He also found a few pictures of
what had to be Christina and wondered if he had had pictures like that in the house he had grown up
in.

“There'll be more people in a moment,” Christina reassured with a shy smile as she entered
the room and saw Harry looking at the pictures. She must be thinking he was bored.

“That is fine,” replied Harry absentmindly. In truth he didn't like the thought of them
having company in case there were any wizards among them. Wizards would recognize him in a
heartbeat.

Christina looked over him searchingly but finally settled on saying: “Tell me if you need
anything. I'll be in the kitchen with Annie.”

“Sure,” said Harry, not looking at her. His mind was back on the letters he had recieved the day
before. He wondered how much time the owl needed to fly to and back with a reply.

Harry's train of thoughts halted when he heard his name being mentioned from the kitchen.
His ears perked up and he walked softly closer to the wall. The voices were not loud, but just
audible enough for Harry to hear.

*“I don't know Annie. Something seems off about him.”*

A sigh. *“You don't know him. He can be really sweet.”* Harry wrinkled his nose.
*Sweet?* They weren't talking about him were they?

*“How much do you know about him anyway?”*
 *”I know enough,”* came the affronted answer. *“Look, I know you are merely looking after
me. But I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself. He hasn't done anything to hurt me,
and more importantly, he respects me. His looks aren't too bad either-“*

A snicker. *“You can be so single-minded it's comical.”*

“*Hey!”* the voice that clearly belonged to Annie rose a little. “*What about you? You
have done lots of things yourself! Do I need to remind you of the time when you--”*

“*Yeah yeah. No need to bring* that *up again! We all know what happened. Besides,
we're talking about you now. What are your plans for the evening?”*

A pause. ”*My plan is to give him a few drinks and see what happens. I've caught him
looking at me - I know he's interested.”*

”*Really? You've never told me about that.”*

”*That's because of Luke. I couldn't act upon it while I was with him. Now,
however…”*

”*Hush,*” interrupted Christina's voice. ”*Don't want him to hear us would
you?”* Harry bent a little closer and pressed his ear against the wall so he could hear better.
They *were* talking about him! Christina's voice continued. ”*Anyway, if you really like
him as a friend, it's not fair of you to use him to get over Luke. You know that*.
*It'll be stupid to do anything to risk that.”*

”*But I'm not!”*

Silence.

*”If you say so. Come on, before he comes looking for us--”*

Harry retreated, his head spinning with thoughts. He wasn't sure what he thought about what
he had just heard. Annie wanted to use him to get over Luke? He hadn't thought about that
possibility.

Sitting down on the couch, Harry considered the still unopened can of beer he held in his hand.
He knew he wouldn't get drunk by one only and if he didn't drink it they would suspect he
had heard what they had been talking about. Harry opened it. Perhaps he could simply empty it in a
nearby plant -

Someone knocked on the window behind him and he turned abruptly. There was that white owl again.
The one he somehow knew was called Hedwig. Harry quickly rose from the couch and let the bird in
silently. She was carrying a new letter in her talons and looked very worn and tired, like she had
flown for days without stopping. The moment she reached Harry she flew to his shoulder and rubbed
her head against his ear. At the same time Harry could hear the girls mumbling something back in
the kitchen and knew he had to be quick. They could come out any time and an owl with a letter
would be hard to explain.

Harry tore open the letter and skimmed through it quickly. It was from the Hermione girl again,
asking to meet him, no sooner than by the Leaky Cauldron the very next day. Harry didn't know
what to answer, nor did he have the time to write a reply. Quickly he led the bird over to the
window and whispered:

”Now, go on Hedwig. We cannot let the Muggles see you!”

The owl hooted softly in indignance, letting him know how rude he was to not even offer her
something to drink or an owl treat. Harry didn't care; he simply threw her out of the window.
He closed it just as Annie and Christina came back. Annie looked at him and the window questionly
with her eyebrows slightly raised. Harry shrugged and told them he had wanted some air.

Both sent him a charming smile that only resulted in making Harry even more suspicious, though
he didn't show it.

Annie sat down beside him, sitting very close in Harry's opinion. Someone knocked on the
front door with loud cheers and Christna went to open. Annie winked at Harry and opened a beer of
her own. They toasted and Harry found himself forced to take a drink. He didn't really mind the
taste - he minded the effect it would have on him if he drank too much. He was comforted, however,
with the feel of the wand on his left forearm. The dark mark underneath stung a little, but not
badly. It was merely a constant reminder that the Dark Lord was waiting impatiently for him to get
back.

In a matter of minutes, a number of people had entered Christina's house. Harry gladly
accepted another beer so that he had something to do and would not look out of place. The risk he
was taking and what could happen if someone recognized him was constantly gnawing in the back of
his mind. Annie shifted and sat down on his lap. Harry looked up at her with surprise.

”What are you thinking?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

Harry suddenly felt he had two arms too many and he didn't know what to do with them. He
hesitantly planted them on her thighs. That way he could stop her from getting any closer. She was
way too close already and after what he had heard from the kitchen, he had a good idea what she
wanted to try. Harry sighed, knowing he had to answer something. ”Just a letter I recieved last
night.”

”From who? And how did they know my adress?”

Harry shrugged, his normal response whenever he didn't know what to say. She wouldn't
believe him if he told her an owl had delivered it to him anyway. ”Um—”

Harry was supposed to say something more, but was interrupted when Annie suddenly leaned forward
and kissed him.

To say that the kiss erupted hidden feelings, created fireworks or anything of that sort would
be a lie. In Harry's opinion, the kiss contained no romantic feelings, only shock and
confusion. For Annie's part, it was like she was trying to prove something. If it was for him,
Christina or herself Harry didn't know. She wasn't a bad kisser - not at all - but Harry
had a strong feeling that her heart wasn't in it.

*So why was she kissing him?*

The best he could say about the kiss was that it was short. Harry sat frozen to the couch. Even
though his eyes had closed automatically, he still felt like a total idiot. Like he was completely
inexperienced, which he knew he wasn't.

Annie had moved her mouth from his lips and was now resting her chin on his shoulder, hugging
herself to him softly. Harry held her; trying to look at the turn of events in a new way. He
couldn't remember having to protect someone other than himself, but he liked it. He liked that
she needed him and he liked having someone to care for. It made him feel less hollow. Less
alone.

-

They spent two more hours at Christina's. Soon, however, everyone began to move out the
front door. Most of them were going to a pub or somewhere underground to drink and party. Harry had
began to feel slightly tipsy himself from the alcohol, but it was nothing more than what he could
handle. He was probably the most sober guy in the whole group.

Annie and Harry was the last ones to go. Christina trusted Annie enough to let her have her own
key to the apartment. Annie had been searching for her jacket in all the mess in the hall. When she
finally found it she had let out an annoyed sight. Her black coat had been laying on the floor and
had clearly been stepped on because it had a visible, grey foot print on its back. Annie had
refused to leave until the mark had been removed and Christina had to catch the bus. Harry and
Annie were going elsewhere and had ordered a cab.

When everything was in order, Annie smiled at Harry. She was no doubt pondering about his lack
of response when they had kissed. Harry shrugged and refused to meet her eye properly. Annie
shrugged too, opened the door and stepped outside. Harry followed, but stumbled into her when she
stopped dead.

“Oh no.” Annie turned abruptly and forcefully shoved Harry back inside. The sudden movements
nearly made him fall.

“What is the matter?” he asked, looking at her concerned face.

“That car belongs to Luke,” she said, her mouth and hands trembling. “I don't know what
he's doing here, but I don't like it ... I don't like it at all! Oh Harry, please
don't let him see me...”

“Hush,” said Harry, wrapping an arm around her. He had a feeling there was something he ought to
tell her, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what. “It is all right,” he mumbled as
soothingly as he could. The words felt weird on his tongue. “He will not see you. I will make sure
of it. Come on now.”

“I - I can't...”

“Sure you can. You are safe with me,” insisted Harry, still with the nagging feeling in the back
of his mind. “Come on-“

“He'll see us! He's dangerous Harry - you have no idea what he is capable of!”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Oh please. He cannot be worse than what I have dealt with. Tell you
what,” he said, reaching for his wand and showing it to her. “Nothing can beat this. Do you believe
in magic?”

Annie blinked at him. “Huh?”

“Magic,” repeated Harry as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “This is a wand
and it can protect us. I am a wizard.”

Annie stared at him for a moment. Then she bursted out laughing. “Yeah right! And I'm
Santa!” She swayed for a moment and Harry held her a little tighter to keep her from falling.

They were alone in the house now. Everyone had gone outside. Harry knew they should get going
right away so Annie wouldn't have a chance to finish the plan she had talked about earlier to
“seduce” him. At his state Harry wasn't sure he minded, but he knew he would regret it later.
He had no feelings for the girl and he knew he couldn't stay with her forever either. Still, he
wanted to get her out of the house and he felt he could prove to her that what he was telling was
true. He wasn't sure about the rules concerning muggles and magic, but who would know about it
anyway?

“I am serious. Here, let me show you.”

Annie laughed harder. Harry sighed and tapped her head with his wand, promptly using a
Disillusionment charm on her. She shivered when the cold sensation went down her back, but she
didn't notice she had turned nearly invisible herself.

“Do not freak out, all right?” said Harry and did the same to himself. Annie abruptly stopped
laughing and her eyes flickered around the small room uncertainly. He could feel her hold on him
tighten as though she wondered how she could feel him but not see him.

“I am right here,” he said softly. He could only see her if he concentrated. “We have merely
turned invisible for the unsuspecting eye.”

Annie was shaking. “What have you done to me? Why can't I see myself? I'm gone!”

“I used a Disillusionment charm on us so Luke would not see.”

“This ... this is ... oh Harry, I can't even pretend to understand! Are you really a wizard?
Is this really magic? Am I merely dreaming?”

“You are not dreaming,” reassured Harry, starting to get impatient. “Now let's get
going!”

Annie nodded numbly beside him. Gently he guided her out the door and down the street. Passing
Luke Joans without him noticing was easy, but still filled Harry with excitement and an urge to
curse the guy.

“You know,” said Annie when they were safely out of reach. They had ended the Disillusionment
charm and found a cab. “This magic thing is wicked!”

Unknown to them, Aurors from the Ministry appeared in Christina's house minutes later. One
of them them was Nymphadora Tonks, another was an undercover Death Eater named Brian Stick. Both
were eager to get back to their leaders and tell them that Harry Potter's magic had been
tracked and that he was in the neighbourhood. Things were about to happen, and it would affect a
lot of people.

-

Annie and Harry had taken a cab as soon as they were safely out of Luke's reach. They
stopped the cab when they were just a couple of blocks away because they would have had to take
another long route to get around, and they didn't have enough money for that. Annie thanked the
driver, faced Harry and took his hand. They started walking down down the dark street that smelled
fresh with rain. He still felt warm and fuzzy from the alcohol. That, combined with the quiet
street and the fresh smell, gave Harry a sense of calm he hadn't felt in a long time.

A sign nearby lit the street in front of them with neon light. It was a restourant named
*`Partner at Hand'* that felt vagually familiar to Harry. He had to stop for a moment when
he reached a certain fence in the front.

“What is it, Harry?” asked Annie. “The nightclub is just around the corner.”

It took a while before Harry answered. He was trying to remember where he had seen that fence
before. “Nothing,” he said at last. “Let's go.”

When Annie had said the nightclub was just around the corner, she hadn't exaggerated. It
was, in fact, the same building, only on the other side. Harry could hear the music now; just
audible, and he could feel the rythm in the air if he paid attention to it. Annie kept a firm grip
on his arm as they faced the guard on the front.

“ID please,” said one of them until he recognized Annie. “Oh, it's you. Come on in.” Annie
smiled and moved past. She turned and waited for Harry.

“ID please,” said the guard again.

“Er-“ Harry began, but Annie interrupted.

“He's with me and he's almost nineteen. Now please let him through.”

The guard raised his chin speculateively and looked down at them. Harry didn't feel
threathened, after all, he was the one with a wand. The guard looked ready to argue, but Harry
quietly slipped his wand out of his sleeve and casted *Imperio.*

*Let me through,* ordered Harry through the invisible link they temporarely shared. *And
find me if anyone comes to search for me or ask you unusual questions.*

The guard nodded stupidly and stepped aside. Harry smirked and followed the slightly shocked
Annie.

“What did you just do?” she whispered, just outside the door in. Harry looked at her
innocently.

“Do? Me? Nothing.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “If you think that look can fool me you are sorely mistaken.”

Harry didn't bother to comment and simply opened the door, feeling the sound of the music
hit his face with a force he never knew existed.

-

The next hour flew past as though it had never existed. They didn't do much else than move
to the music and dance. Once they went up to the disk to buy some more beer and once they went to
the bathroom.

It was on the second time they parted to do their business that they ran into trouble. When
Harry got out from the men's room, he saw two muscular men blocking Annie's way out.

She was a little unsteady on her feet and kept looking at them uncertainly. A stranger would
think she was calm, but Harry recognized her stiff attitude and darting eyes as a sign of
nervousness.

“Excuse me,” she tried, and began to squeeze her way through them.

“Not so fast, you,” said one of them and grabbed her by her shoulder. “Why don't you come
with us for a while?”

“No ... my boyfriend is waiting,” she mumbled, trying to get ouf of his grip.

“But your boyfriend is not here, is he?” one of them said. “He won't even notice.”

“Wait Earnie,” the other one said. “This is Luke Joan's girlfriend.”

Annie froze but they didn't seem to notice. The one who held Annie in a death grip paused
and looked down at her. There was quite a height difference. He said: “Luke still owes me money.
Tell me where he is.”

“I don't know,” mumbled Annie. “Now let me through.We're not together anymore.”

The man seemed surprised, but didn't let go of her. “You're not?” He took up his
cellphone and seemed to write something.

“I said *let me through!”* Annie slapped him. Despite of the loud music playing in the room
beside them everything seemed oddly quiet. Harry chose that moment to make an appearance.

“Let her be!” he ordered. He grabbed Annie's arm and yanked her out of the bigger man's
grasp. “Come on now.”

“Not so fast-“ Harry heard behind him before he recieved a dizzying blow from behind. He was hit
between the shoulders and he promtply flew forwards, crashing in the wall in front of him.

Before he had managed to shake off the dizzyiness, he recieved a kick on his legs. It hurt, and
white-blazing anger welted up in Harry, as well as a huge bitterness. He had been *so good -*
he had managed to avoid cursing humans ever since he had stumbled over Annie's house. And for
what? Being bullied? He wanted to be feared, he wanted to show that he was stronger than them.

There was no one elsed in the hall. Wiping his mouth, Harry jumped to his feet, pulled out the
wand he had hidden in his sleeve, and pointed it at the one who was closest.

“Silence! *Crucio!”*

It felt wonderful to do the Dark Arts on something else other than a bird. The man before him
screamed and covered on the ground, hugging his knees and managed to wet himself. The man's
friend only stared in shock. “What is that?” he gasped. Harry ended the curse and stared at
him.

“It is magic you moron. *Dark* magic. And you have never seen it. *Obliviate!*”

Harry turned to the sobbing and whimpering man on the floor and used the same memory charm on
him.

”Come on Annie, let's go.” Annie was frozen in shock and clutched his arm tightly. Harry
knew she was terrified, but she was too shocked to protest. The two men looked at each other in
confusion and moved away from the two teenagers. ”Do not bother us again,” Harry hissed, before
leading Annie out from the hall and to where the music was. They had to get away and they had to
get away now. Harry had no idea what could alert the Ministry, but Dark Arts on muggles had to be
taken seriously by them. He had no desire to get caught. As soon as they had found a spot where no
one noticed them, Harry wrapped his arms against a still shell-shocked Annie and Apparated.

-->



36. Meetings on Several Fronts
------------------------------



Special thanks to Anna Rose!

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

-

Ch36: **MEETINGS ON SEVERAL FRONTS**

But the girl is only in your mind

She's leavin' everything behind

She's not the girl that's gonna make it right

So you can kiss that girl goodbye

You could look forever for someone like me

She's just a memory

(Kiss That Girl by Sheryl Crow)

When Harry had Apparated with Annie, he hadn't given their location a lot of thought. It was
a miracle he had not managed to divide either himself or the girl in his arms. They merely appeared
in the first place that came to his mind: Mid-London, right outside the Leaky Cauldron. Harry
remembered running for his life on that very street he and Annie were now standing on, trying to
get away from the Death Eaters and the Aurors that had been following him. Now, even though it was
around four o'clock in the morning and everything was as quiet as it could get, being back
there made the hairs on Harry's neck to rise. The chilly April air went right through their
thin jackets. It was not a safe place to be there in plain sight.

“Where are we?” asked Annie, clutching her stomach and looking as though she was going to get at
sick any moment. Harry couldn't blame her as she was not used to Apparating.

“London, I guess,” answered Harry with a shrug. “You just experienced the most common way
wizards use to travel.”

“Oh,” said Annie. “Then I'm glad I'm not a wizard. That was awful! I never, ever want to
do that again!”

“Witch,” corrected Harry quietly, surprised by her words. He couldn't imagine not wanting to
be a wizard. If he lost his magic it would be the end of the world for him. “Do you want to go
home?”

Annie shook her head.

Harry suppressed a smirk. He was hoping she would say that so he would have a chance to meet
Hermione later in the day. “Come on then, let's find someplace warm.”

-

They ended up in a small pub not far from where they had arrived. They had tried the Leaky
Cauldron, but since Annie was a muggle she could not see it, much less enter it. Instead, they had
by a stroke of luck found a small pub that was open because it needed to be cleaned from a
particularly messy night. The bartender there seemed very annoyed and his movements were jerky like
he was thirty years older than what he really was, but he allowed them to stay there for a few
hours. All he demanded was that they did not disturb him.

It turned out that Annie didn't want to go home because she didn't want to see Luke. She
refused to tell him that she was afraid, but Harry could see it in her eyes.

Besides, she argued, the night was still young. Harry didn't bother telling her that it
wasn't even night anymore as the clock was almost six. When Annie had made up her mind about
something, she would stick to that decision, no matter if she knew she was wrong or not.

Five more hours until he was supposed to meet Hermione.

They found a soft, black couch in a corner that was hidden from view. The bar was modern
looking: Red, black and grey seemed to be the main colours and there were lamps with bright colours
. On the table in the front, Harry could see a number of different bottles in all shapes and sizes.
On the walls, he could see several pictures that reminded him of street signs - unmoving but
fitting at the same time.

They didn't talk much. They settled on resting against each other, simply enjoying each
other's presence. A few months back Harry would have argued with all he was worth if someone
had insisted he was capable of having a friend. Yet, there he was, with a girl on his shoulder. A
girl who seemed to want more than friendship, sure, but he didn't worry about that. She was a
friend he would go great lengths for if necessary. It still felt unreal for him to have a friend
like her. He wasn't sure what was expected of him, but somehow that didn't matter. He had
plenty of time to find out and he knew Annie would tell him if something was bothering her. She
wouldn't abandon him. She needed him as much as he needed her.

Harry knew he could spend years with that girl. Nothing could change that. He would just have to
find a way to continue his education as a powerful and great wizard on the side.

-

Both of them had fallen asleep at some point, because the next time Harry opened his eyes the
sun was peaking through the curtains in the bar and the sounds of a loud traffic jam came from the
street outside. It was morning. Harry quickly looked over at the clock and saw there was still
forty minutes until he was supposed to meet Hermione. He let out a relieved sigh. They hadn't
slept too long.

“Hey, sleepy-head, wake up,” he said, nudging Annie, who was still resting her head on his
shoulder and breathing heavily. She blinked a few times and sat up slowly.

“What time is it?”

“Twenty minutes past ten,” answered Harry.

“Oh,” she said, yawning and straightening up in her seat. “Do you think Luke is still outside my
house? Wait - oh my god! You're a wizard!” Annie suddenly looked very much awake and her eyes
were very wide.

Harry rolled his eyes and quickly put a hand on her shoulder so she would stay in her seat.

“Quiet!” he whispered. He looked at her very seriously so that she would understand the
seriousness in the situation. “You are not supposed to know that. Wizards are not allowed to tell
Muggles like you - non-magic people - and we may not be alone.” He gave her a pointed look towards
the barman, who was snoring on a nearby table, his glasses still on his face.

Annie's eyes widened in realization. “Oh. I see your point. But ... it's true then? You
really are a - you know--?”

“Yes-“

“You can do magic?”

“Yes.”

“You can--?”

“Yes, yes and yes probably,” said Harry and smiled, pulling her close. “You know what? I do not
want to go back to your place for a while. Let's just stay here for some time.”

“Okay...” said Annie slowly as if she questioned his motives, but Harry knew she didn't mean
anything mean about it. He didn't elaborate. For some reason, he didn't want to tell her
that he was supposed to meet Hermione in a little while. He had planned to, but something stopped
him. Besides, there was always a chance that she would refuse and demand to be taken home.
He looked at his watch. Ten minutes to go.

“Did you have fun last night?” asked Annie, giggling. “I know I did.”

“Sure. It was fun.”

“The thing you did to that guy who tried to contact Luke was so wicked!” Annie giggled again. “I
don't know what you did, but I sorta liked it.”

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah. I like the thought of having someone to protect me. I've never had that before, I
think it's in your nature. Oh, you may put up this tough, `bad guy' mask, but underneath
that mask you are so much more.”

Harry didn't know what to say. Her words had managed to make him annoyed, comforted and
strangely naked all at once. Something deep inside him stirred. He wanted to say something similar
to her, like how much she meant to him, but he didn't know how. He couldn't find the
words.

In an effort to tell her in another way, he shot her a grateful smile and patted her knee
hesitantly. She smiled back at him, as if she understood what he wanted her to know.

“I have to go outside for a while,” Harry said to her, rising from the couch. Annie frowned at
him.

“Why?”

“Just to take care of some - er - wizard stuff. I will be right back.”

“Okay,” said Annie, taking the hint of staying where she was, but she didn't seem to happy
about it.

“Do not worry about me,” said Harry softly, kissing her forehead before walking out of the
pub.

-

There were a lot more people in the alley outside of the entrance now, but Harry preferred the
crowd at the moment. The Hermione girl should be close by, unless it was a trap. Harry stepped out
from the shadow he had been standing in. The sun felt hot and sharp against his face and his eyes
squinted against the light.

Harry felt like he had some difficulties breathing. This was so stupid of him, putting himself
and Annie in danger like that. Annie was a muggle, she had no way to defend herself. What could she
do if she was attacked? Yet, Harry knew he needed to do this. He knew he had to take the chance.
Hermione could be the key to his life. He had to know.

Harry flexed his fingers nervously and looked around. He stepped a little further out onto the
street. Everything seemed so peaceful on the outside, but every now and then funny looking people
would pass, looking nervously over their shoulders and ducking inside a shop. He knew they were
wizards by the way they dressed. Harry almost smiled when he thought about what their reaction
would be if they saw him. They would probably wet themselves just like the huge man that had almost
assaulted Annie. If they for some reason weren't afraid of him, he'd show them that they
should be.

“Harry?”

Harry was startled by the soft voice behind him, feeling a jolt of recognition. *Was that her?
Could it be--?*

He whirled around, his eyes searching the street wildly, before he saw her. A girl about his age
was standing in front of him. She had soft brown eyes that sparkled with unshed tears, and a lot of
bushy, brown hair that just revealed her neck. She was wearing ordinary Muggle clothes, possibly to
not attract attention to herself.

Harry only stared at her, all of the questions he had been meaning to ask her were instantly
swept from his mind. She did look familiar, in a way. Harry noticed that her chin trembled and her
chest rose painfully for each breath, as if she, too, had trouble breathing.

“Harry,” she said again, but this time there was no question in her voice. She seemed to be
waiting for him to make the first move. He felt his mouth go dry and it was suddenly difficult for
him to form words.

“Hi.”

Suddenly - and nothing could have prepared Harry for this - the girl bolted forwards, threw
herself into his arms and gave him a bone-crushing hug. Harry didn't have the time to take out
his wand and curse her - she was too quick. Instead he had to take a few steps backwards to prevent
himself from falling from the force.

His first thought was that she had to be mental to act like this, but then he reminded himself
that she was supposed to know him. However, if she did, shouldn't she know that he normally
didn't like hugs? Shouldn't she know that she shouldn't cry and make a fuss of herself
in front of a large audience as the one in the street they were standing on? Shouldn't she know
that he didn't like any signs of weakness?

Hermione's hair was obscuring most of his vision and he felt rather vulnerable. She was
clinging to him so tightly that he could scarcely breathe. Then she sniffled. Harry could feel his
shirt getting soaked by her tears.

“I can't believe you're here!” she sobbed at last, clinging even more tightly to him.
“Everybody thought you were dead and then we saw you in the newspaper and we knew it had to be you!
Of course, it could've been someone under the Polyjuice potion, but they would need you alive
to be able to turn into you! And now you're here, and I'm here, and I can't believe it,
and I really hope you can forgive me because I really regret what I said, and I didn't really
mean it, I just thought it would be for the best if only for a little while, but of course it
wasn't when it meant that-“

Feeling uncomfortable by her babbling, he pulled away from her embrace and took a step back,
studying her carefully.

“You know me?” he asked, trying to change the subject from whatever she was talking about.

“Yeah,” she said, wiping her eyes. She didn't recognize what he had said as a question. “I
do. I should've known you wouldn't just ... you know. But when the mirror showed my
reflection instead of yours, it seemed like it was the only explanation left! I remembered what you
had said and then I asked Professor Lupin just to be sure and he said the same thing! Then I asked
Professor Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick in case something went wrong with the spell, but they
said it seemed to work fine and-”

Harry had to interrupt her because yet again he didn't have the faintest idea of what she
was talking about.

“Sorry?”

“The mirror,” the girl started again, but Harry held up his hand, trying to get control of the
situation.

“Pardon me, but I have no idea what you're talking about. You *are* Hermione right?” He
had to be sure.

“What - what do you mean?” The girl's chin began to tremble again and she suddenly looked
very scared.

“You wrote this letter then?” he reached inside his jacket and showed her the envelope.

“Yes.” Her voice was trembling too now. It looked like she wanted to ask him something, but
something stopped her.

“Good,” said Harry, the questions he had been meaning to ask returning to his mind. “And how do
you know me? How did we meet?”

Hermione looked at him, completely bewildered. “I - we - er, we met on the train to
Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts!” cried Harry in triumph. Finally something he recognized. “Are you done with
school?”

“No.”

“Were we in the same house? Same year?”

“Well, yeah-“

“Were we friends?”

“Of course! Harry-!”

“And what about Ron, is he our friend too?”

“*Stop it!* Please, Harry, why are you doing this? Do you want revenge? Is that it?”
Hermione was poorly trying to hide her tears with her hands.

“Hush,” he said, having no time to deal with her fretting. “Now where were we? Oh yes, I cannot
believe I forgot to ask you right away. Did anyone follow you here?”

Hermione pressed her lips together, her face redder than what had to be normal for a human
being. Then her expression softened. She stopped trying to hide her tears and let her hands fall to
her sides.

“Oh Harry, what happened to you?”

Harry, who was in the middle of asking her another question, halted, thrown off guard. “Happened
to me?”

Hermione nodded solemnly, but then her eyes caught a movement behind him. He felt someone place
a hand on his shoulder from behind and he knew instantly it was Annie. He relaxed slightly, but he
was worried that Annie might do something to screw up his `interview' with Hermione.

“Hi,” he said, giving Annie a wry smile. She moved a little closer to him and looked carefully
at Hermione.

“Who's this?”

“Hermione. Hermione, this is Annie Highwater, Annie, this is Hermione.” He turned towards
Hermione again. “Sorry, I never got your last name.”

“Granger,” said Hermione faintly, weakly shaking Annie's hand. Harry noticed that Hermione
was taller than Annie and that Annie seemed to be pulling herself up as high as she could, almost
standing on her toes. Hermione narrowed her eyes. It was like it was a silent competition going on
between the two of them. He cleared his throat awkwardly. Both turned to look at him, but Harry
found himself unable to meet either girls' gaze.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” he pleaded. A crowd had formed around them and Harry could
hear his name being mentioned. In the corner of his eye, he also saw some of them slipping away.
Whether it would be to call the Aurors or the Death Eaters Harry didn't know, but either would
be bad. Very bad.

“Annie,” he said quickly to the blonde girl. “Go home. Take a bus or a cab if you must. Just get
away from here. I will explain later.”

Annie frowned for a moment before she understood. But she didn't move. “What about you? We
should get back to bed. We had little sleep last night.”

Harry didn't like how she made it sound as though they were sleeping together as a couple,
but he let it pass. “No, Annie. Not now. This is urgent. I can get home in an instant. You
can't. You need to go now.”

Annie was upset. She leaned closer to him so Hermione wouldn't hear, gripping his hand
tightly. “Why do I have a feeling you're saying goodbye?”

Harry was genuinely surprised. “I am not. Why would I?”

“You promise you'll be back?”

“Yes, of course. Now go. I'll come as soon as I can,” he promised. Then he smiled at her and
tucked some hair behind her shoulder. His finger lightly touched her cheek. Annie smiled back at
him and moved away, her hand leaving his. Harry watched her go, then he turned back to
Hermione.

“Come on.”

He lead Hermione a little further away from the crowd. The Muggles quickly lost interest, but
Harry saw a few wizards in the crowd who followed their every movement with their eyes. Harry hoped
Hermione knew how much danger she was putting herself in.

He was about to tell her so when Hermione began to talk again.

“You don't have any memories of Hogwarts do you?” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but
Harry heard every word clearly.

“No.”

“How - how did you get away?”

“From...?” asked Harry, not sure if she meant the Death Eaters or the Aurors.

“The Death Eaters of course!”

Harry began to feel uncomfortable by the intense way her eyes searched his. “I ran off. Then I
Apparated away.”

“Do you remember something then?” asked Hermione hopefully. “Do you remember when we learned how
to Apparate in the forest?”

Harry raised his eyebrows at her. He had learned how to Apparate from Dolohov and that was not
in a forest. He had been a natural though, and gotten the hand of it almost right away. He was a
natural in a lot of things. “No,” he said at last, truthfully.

Hermione seemed disappointed, but didn't give up. “Do you remember the Triwizard
tournament?”

“The Tri-what?”

“What about the Ministry of Magic? Do you remember when we fought for the Prophecy?”

“Prophecy?”

“What about the time when we bathed in the lake? Last September?”

“You and I? No.”

“Well, do you at least remember the time we kissed on the fence in front of the `Partner at
Hand?'”

“No-“ Harry started, but then his eyes widened in realization. He remembered that he had been in
front of the 'Partner at Hand' the night before with Annie, and he had stopped at the fence
there, trying to figure out why it looked so familiar. “Oh.”

Hermione's face lit up. “You remember?”

“Some of it perhaps. I remember the place.” That, at least, was true.

“Maybe professor Snape can brew you a potion,” she muttered. “Maybe that'll help you
remember?”

Harry's head snapped up at the word *potion,* and then narrowed his eyes at the name
*Snape.* It had to be Severus Snape, the one who had betrayed his Lord! And there was no way
Harry would take another potion in his life. What if someone tried to trick him and he somehow took
the last dose? Then the whole escape would be for nothing.
Harry felt anger flare up inside him. He may have ran away himself, but he didn't have a choice
in doing so. Snape on the other hand, had betrayed his master quite deliberately, spying on them,
and told the Light side everything he knew!

“No,” Harry sneered. “I am not going to drink a potion or see Snape*.* Never!” *Except
for killing him,* he added to himself.

“What? Harry, no! You must come back! We need you!”

Harry was getting impatient. “That is not my problem. I like it the way I live now, thank you
very much.”

“With *her?”* Hermione almost shrieked, waving her hands. “She's a slag! And she's
- she's *blonde!*”

“Yes, she is blonde,” said Harry coldly. He pulled out his wand to show Hermione that she better
not insult Annie again. It was also because he had recognized Lucius Malfoy over Hermione's
shoulder. He was further down the street, walking towards them. At the moment Harry was too annoyed
to care as much as he should. He knew Lucius wouldn't kill him, but it would be reckless of him
to stay around much longer. “And she is my friend,” he continued. “I am not leaving her.”

“I can't believe this,” said Hermione, her voice breaking at the end. She shook her head
sadly, more tears streaming down her cheeks. She hadn't seen the Death Eater behind her.
“You're not the Harry I know at all!”

“Well, *duh,”* said Harry, suddenly sounding like Annie. “Obviously not, how can you know
me when I know nothing about you at all? I do not know if I did once, maybe I did, but quite
frankly I am *glad* that part of my life is over! I am curious of who I was before, but I do
not need you or anyone else. And I definitely do not want to risk my life for anyone other than
myself, thanks.”

He knew it was harsh. He knew that it was not the smartest thing to say. But he had never
imagined how hurt the girl in front of him could look by his words. Her every emotion reflected on
her face, plain as ripples in the water: Surprise, denial, sadness, anger and betrayal.

Harry found himself regretting his words, but it was too late. Without saying another word
Hermione turned away from him and bolted down the street.

Right into the hands of a smirking Lucius Malfoy.

-->



37. Phoenix Song
----------------



Special thanks to Anna Rose, for all her help and all her suggestions.

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

-

Ch37: **PHOENIX SONG**

I never thought you were a fool

But darling, look at you

You gotta stand up straight, carry your own weight

These tears are going nowhere, baby

**(Stuck in a Moment by U2)**

Hermione had been too blinded by her tears to see who she had ran into. She didn't look up
right away to see who had caught her.

“Sorry,” she muttered, moving to the side, but Lucius wouldn't let her go that easily.

“Hello Mudblood.”

Hermione froze and looked up, her eyes extremely wide. She gasped in surprise and fright when
she realized Lucius Malfoy was the one standing in front of her.

Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't know this girl. He shouldn't take the chance
of getting caught by Lucius either. Harry stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other
while trying to decide what to do. His mind told him to quit being stupid, that he really should
get back to Annie like he had promised. His mind told him to use what he had learned in the last
months, to put himself first and ensure his own survival. The mess this Hermione girl had gotten
herself into shouldn't be his problem.

The problem was that it felt like his problem. She had come because of him.

At first Harry had thought that perhaps Hermione and Ron were supposed to be trained to be Death
Eaters like himself. Why would he be friends with them otherwise? However, when Harry saw the look
of horror written across Hermione's face, he knew that couldn't be the case. Hermione was
never supposed to be a Death Eater, she supported the side of light.

This thought confused Harry even further, but he knew he couldn't dwell on it until later.
Right now he needed to act. Only a coward would hide or do nothing, and he was anything but
that.

Lucius didn't seem to be in a hurry. He watched Harry with cool, grey eyes, like he was
waiting for something. Harry approached him carefully and slowly, knowing that the Death Eater
would have a portkey somewhere so that he could disappear whenever he wanted. Harry refused to be
caught or go back to the Stone Edge ever again. He wouldn't even do that for Annie.

Annie's words rang in his mind. *'I like the thought of having someone to protect me.
I've never had that before, I think it's in your nature. Oh, you may put up this tough,
`bad guy' mask, but underneath that mask you are so much more,'* she had said. More
importantly, she had meant it. Harry felt the need to prove that he was worth those words.

“Lucius,” said Harry coldly.

Lucius was peering at him expectantly. “Ah, *Harry.* A pleasure to meet you again. Have you
enjoyed yourself?”

Harry knew that Lucius, like him, paid more attention to their surroundings than their
conversation. Both knew it would only be a matter of time before the Aurors showed up.

“Oh yes,” said Harry, his tone matching Lucius'. His time as a Death Eaters came rushing
back to him. Suddenly he felt as though he had never left, although he knew he had changed. “I have
had lot of fun.”

Harry's eyes drifted over to Hermione, who tried in vain to wrestle out of Lucius'
strong hands. Even from where Harry was standing he could see that her arms would soon be spotted
with dark bruises. She had no chance of getting away. Her face was so pale Harry expected her to
faint any moment.

“We all wondered what had happened to you, after you disappeared like that,” Lucius continued,
seemingly unconcerned by Hermione's protests. “Whatever made you change your mind?”

“I did not,” protested Harry indignantly, knowing that Lucius meant about being a Death Eater.
“I did not have a choice in the matter! Did you really think I would not figure out what that
potion did?”

This seemed to surprise Lucius to the point where Hermione almost succeeded to get away. She
managed to get one arm free, but Lucius quickly grabbed her other wrist and jerked her back to him.
Hermione yelped with pain.

“No! Let me go, please,” she begged. “Please!”

If possible, Lucius gripped her even tighter. When Hermione kicked him in his leg he shook her
roughly.

“Stop that,” barked Harry before he could stop himself, afraid the shaking could break
Hermione's neck or something like that. He had heard it happen before. To his surprise Lucius
actually did, but this time Hermione's legs refused to support her. Lucius had to hold both her
arms tightly to keep her from falling to the ground.

“I see you have regained a few memories,” said Lucius thoughtfully. Hermione widened her eyes at
that, while Harry had to restrain himself from showing the same surprise.

“So what if I have?” he said, succeeding in keeping the hesitation from his voice.

“That explains a few things. Master guessed you had, said it could be a side effect from the
potion you seem to know all about.”

“Yes, that can explain a few things,” Harry agreed, trying to think of how he could use this to
his advantage.

“Good thing I have your little girlfriend here then,” challenged Lucius with a cruel smirk. This
time Harry could not restrain the surprise to show from his face.

“Girlfriend?”

“You think we did not know?”

Harry wisely shut his mouth, daring another quick glance at Hermione. She looked down, not
meeting his look. He wondered why she hadn't told him about that. His heart raced up a bit and
he felt almost dizzy. Suddenly it was as though he had found a piece of a puzzle; this had to be
the girl he had dreamt about. Although he had never seen her face, he now recognized the bushy
hair, her voice and her body. He found himself looking at her again, *really* looking at her,
and this time she met his gaze. She nodded slightly. Harry quickly looked up again and narrowed his
eyes at Lucius.

“Let her go.” This time his voice was hard and firm. A few sparks escaped from the wand Harry
had from the Dark Lord.

“I will, under one condition,” said Lucius smoothly. Harry's stomach sank. He knew what that
condition would be. Lucius nodded, smirking. “That is right, if you come with me, I will let her
go. Her for you.”

“I—“ Harry began, but he was interrupted by shouting further down the street. Aurors were
coming, waving their wands in circular motions in the air, surely to create barriers against
Apparating.

“You have three seconds,” Lucius prompted, his words hurried now. “One—“

Harry glanced between Hermione and Lucius. He knew what the answer had to be.

“I understand, Harry,” said Hermione softly. She stood on her feet now, upright, like she was
preparing herself for something she knew she couldn't avoid. Like she already knew her
destiny.

“Two,“ continued Lucius, his eyes not on Harry but on the Aurors who were quickly closing in on
them.

“I can't!”

Lucius halted, staring at Harry in obvious surprise. “What did you say?”

“I can't,” repeated Harry, his voice soft. He tried to tell himself that he didn't
really know the girl, at least not anymore, but it was hard. He had never felt more helpless.

Nobody said anything for several seconds. Hermione was breathing heavily, but she had her tears
under control. Harry tried not to look at her, but his eyes were constantly drawn towards her body,
her hair and her eyes. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, but he couldn't even do that. At
last, when they couldn't postpone it any longer, Lucius nodded sourly.

“You know where to find us,” he grumbled, before he pressed Hermione against his body; one arm
around her waist and one arm around her neck.

“It doesn't matter, Harry. I love you!” lamented Hermione, and her brown eyes were so full
of love for him that Harry could not bring himself to doubt her even one second.

“Three. Activate,” said Lucius mercilessly, his tone silky and dangerous. Two seconds later he
and Hermione were gone.

Only then did Harry realize that he was in real danger. The Aurors where only thirty feet away
from him now, coming from all directions. Feeling panic create a huge, cold ball in his stomach, he
closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on Apparating outside Annie's house.

Nothing happened. He knew he had done it right because he had felt as though he was about to
leave the ground, but then he had met a barrier. The Aurors had already put up the wards! He
couldn't Apparate!

Harry spun around on the spot several times, trying to find a way he could run, a way he could
get out. For some reason all of the Muggles seemed to have disappeared from the street, so he
couldn't hide in a crowd. He had no idea where to go. He didn't have a portkey and he
couldn't use the Dark Mark as long as it wasn't glowing.

“Stay where you are!” ordered one of the Aurors. Of course, Harry did anything but that. Dizzy
with fear, he spun again and ran the opposite way. There were Aurors there too, but there were not
as many as there was in the other directions, so they were therefore Harry's safest bet. He
would simply have to find a way past them as he ran.

Harry considered using the Dark Lord's wand, but he hesitated because he didn't want to
encourage the Aurors in firing spells back. Harry could avoid three, perhaps four of them if he was
lucky, but not the whole bunch. Unless he managed to get past them, he would be stuck. He would be
finished. Imprisoned, kissed by a Dementor or killed.

Harry ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He ran so fast that he felt weightless, only the
jolt he felt through his body every time his feet hit the ground reminded him that he was not
flying. Somewhere in the back of his mind he became worried about falling, as that would surely
hurt an awful lot, but he didn't dare slow down. He had to continue.

Harry had every intention of continuing down the broad street he was running on. He ran in the
middle of the way as there were no cars to worry about. He didn't notice much except what was
going on right in front of him. Once he almost stumbled over a black cat that came in his way, but
he managed to avoid it in the last second. The cat let out an indignant hiss, but he paid no more
attention to it.

When Harry looked up again, however, he saw some sparks in the air about fifty metres in front
of him. Then, a second later, an old man with a long, white beard appeared. He was holding the tail
of a magnificent swan-like bird in red and gold, looking extremely powerful despite his old
age.

A phoenix, Harry realized, although he couldn't remember anyone telling him. Without meaning
to he slowed down. He got the feeling something was about to happen, and it did: When the phoenix
opened its beak and sang, it opened something in him. Harry felt more nauseous and distressed than
what he could ever remember being. All strength left him and he couldn't run anymore. Instead
he froze on the spot, unable to move, until even that became difficult. He felt as weak as a
kitten.

“Hello Harry,” said the old wizard in front of him. For some reason Harry felt the urge to cry.
He was lost, he truly was. In the end it hadn't mattered that he had decided not to change
places with Hermione, the only difference was that one more person would suffer because of him.

“It will be all right, Harry,” said the old man in front of him and the Phoenix sang some more.
Harry wished it would stop. He wished he had the energy to kill himself with the Avada Kedavra
curse. His life wasn't worth anything. He didn't want to live anymore.

To Harry's horror he felt his eyes water. He couldn't cry! He had worked too hard to
learn how to stop himself to begin now. However, the more Harry tried to stop himself the harder it
became. Unable to help it, he felt the first tear escape his eye. Scolding himself, he quickly
brushed it away, but it kept coming more. His chest hurt of suppressed emotions. Soon he was
sobbing just like Hermione had.

The old man had reached him now. For some reason the Aurors had stopped to watch. Harry briefly
wondered why, but had no time to think about it as the man suddenly reached over to pet him on the
shoulder. Harry instinctively flinched away, but that only seemed to encourage the man to come
closer. Before Harry knew what was happening, the old man had pulled him into a tight embrace.

Still sobbing, Harry knew he should be scared or at least embarrassed, but found himself too
drained mentally and physically to care. All he wanted at that moment was to bury himself in the
warm clothes and stay there. Harry felt his head being stroked by a warm hand and felt it oddly
comforting. His sobs subsided a little. When he finally opened his eyes and rubbed them, he saw
nothing but velvet cloth decorated with yellow stars and moons.

What an odd man.

When Harry found the courage to look up, his eyes locked with pale, twinkling blue ones. The old
and wrinkled hand continued to stroke Harry's messy, black hair.

“I believe we have everything under control,” said the man to the Aurors who were watching
silently. “Thank you for all your help.”

The Aurors nodded. “Glad to help, Albus,” one of them said, before clapping his hands and
looking at his team. “Let's clean this mess up then!”

Harry turned his eyes away from the scene. He knew he was about to be arrested. When the old man
called Albus grabbed the bird's tail again, Harry wasn't surprised to feel himself leave
the ground in a whirl of flames.

-

Harry reappeared in a bright, fancy looking office with a lot of portraits and silver
instruments. The portraits seemed to be snoring, but he instantly knew better. He could practically
feel their eyes on him and their snores were far from even. The phoenix flew to a perch in a corner
of the room, cleaning its wing with its beak. Harry didn't mind as long as it didn't
sing.

It hit Harry that it was a very weird room for being questioned in. He had expected it to be in
a dirty and badly lit basement, with heavy and intimidating guards. Not in an almost comforting and
fancy looking office. Harry licked his dry lips, feeling uncomfortable.

The old man instantly went over to the fire-place, threw in a handful of Floo Powder and called
for a woman named Poppy. A few seconds later a woman in her fifties emerged, cleaning herself free
from soot with a quick spell from her wand. Her eyes instantly searched the room. When she spotted
Harry she hurried over, waving her wand over him. Harry would've drawn a wand himself, but it
didn't look like she was about to curse him. Actually, if he was not mistaking, she was a
nurse.

The woman continued to wave her wand over him in complex patterns while muttering under her
breath in several minutes. Harry waited impatiently for her to finish, but he didn't dare to
complain.

It took a while, but when the woman finally finished she seemed satisfied. “He has a few
bruises, Albus,” she told the older man, “but he's not hurt. A good night sleep will do him
well though.”

The man nodded. “Thank you, Poppy. I am very happy to have Harry back with us, alive and
well.”

“Absolutely,” said the nurse kindly, smiling at Harry. Harry merely stared back. “Yes, well,”
said Poppy, looking a tad unnerved. “I better get going then. Good day, Albus. Mr. Potter.” With
that, she left the way she came.

Harry felt his body tense. Surely the Aurors would be the next to come? He didn't understand
why the old man, Albus, had said he was *happy,* of all things, to have him back with them.
Harry threw the man a skeptical look, but he definitely did look pleased. His eyes were practically
shining, twinkling and dancing at the same time.

“Harry,” said the man, walking over to Harry and resting a hand on his shoulder. Harry flinched,
gritted his teeth and moved away further.

“Do not touch me!”

Albus let his hand drop at once and hung his head, as though ashamed. He sighed deeply.

“I understand, Harry. I understand your resentment.”

“Good,” was all Harry replied.

“Let us sit down.”

Harry shrugged and did as the man suggested. Albus looked every bit his age now, not like the
powerful wizard Harry had seen appear with the Phoenix at all Harry shrugged again. He knew looks
could be deceiving.

“Lemon drop?” asked the old man once he was seated behind his desk, holding out a box with
yellow candies.

“What?” said Harry, confused, then eyed the drops with skepticism. He wouldn't take
Veritaserum if he could help it. “No thanks.”

The man seemed to expect that answer and popped a candy into his mouth. Maybe the drops
weren't fed with truth serum after all, Harry reasoned. He fought the urge to squirm when Albus
suddenly leaned forward and looked at Harry very seriously. Harry steeled himself. He wished he had
joined Annie when he had ordered her to go home.

It was funny how things could change in only a few hours.

Harry had steeled himself so much that he hardly heard the first thing the old man said.

“Sorry?” asked Harry, forcing himself to pay more attention.

“I said I am sorry for letting you down, Harry,” Albus said. Harry felt his eyes widen in
surprise.

“You are?”

The man in front of him looked sad and remorseful. “Of course. I swore to protect you that
Halloween. I am afraid that I underestimated the enemy. In the end it did not matter how many
guards we had around you and around the castle, you were taken anyway. For that I am sorry. I
should have guarded you myself that night.”

Harry paused, unsure on how much he should tell. “Um-“

“I never wanted it to come to this, Harry. No one wanted you to be taken, I can assure you of
that. Now, Severus informed us what happened the first night when you were in Voldemort's
hands-“ (Harry gasped over the rude and disrespectful way to address his Lord) “-so we already know
what made it possible for the Death Eaters to get you. They already had Wormtail inside Hogwarts by
the time he made the threat official. The Order, and I in particular, should have foreseen that.”
The old man grabbed Harry's astonished hands. This time Harry didn't flinch away, but he
came very close. Only his curiosity kept him in his seat. It was obvious that the other wizard
didn't know anything about Harry's lack of memories. It remained to be seen if he should
try to keep it that way. The old man stared Harry deeply into the eyes as he continued speaking
again. “You are very important, Harry. Not only for the war and the side of light, but also for the
people who care about you. I am one of them ... and that makes it even more regrettable that I
could not stop you from being taken out of the safety of your bed. I know I cannot even begin to
make up for you.”

This time Harry did remove his hands. “Er, all right.”

The man shook his head, looking even more resigned. “No, Harry. It is not all right. You have
every reason to be angry, to be disappointed. It will not make you a bad wizard.”

Harry felt something clench deep inside him. He already was a bad wizard. He had killed people.
He *enjoyed* it even. How could this man even begin to think Harry didn't protest because
he was a light wizard? A light wizard, no matter how weak, would never take the Dark Mark. Instead
of answering, Harry pressed his lips tightly together and stared at the man defiantly.

Albus sighed. “Do not misunderstand me, Harry. It is truly remarkable to have you back with us,
alive and well. I must admit, when Snape failed in getting you out we thought all hope was lost,
and that was before we saw the condition you were in inside a Pensieve. No boy, no *man*
should ever go through what you have endured. To have you here now, after all this time, is like a
miracle. However, I must ask you how you managed to keep your sanity after all the Cruciatus Curses
they used on you? Did you use Occlumency to guard your mind?”

Harry didn't know what to say to that. He realized that he couldn't possibly fool the
man forever into believing he still remembered his former life. He should just as well admit it
before it became too obvious. Clearing his throat, Harry opened his mouth. “I do not remember
anything from my past life, sir.” His voice were rough and hoarse, and didn't sound like
himself at all.

The other man stiffened. “Pardon?”

“At least not much,” Harry quickly added. “I do not remember much before last December.”

“Oh dear.” The man looked at Harry in shock. Harry fidgeted and looked down at his hands.

No one said anything for several minutes. Harry tried not to dwell much on his lost memories.
Instead he forced his thoughts to focus around the issue of punishment. Harry was sure he would be
killed himself for killing and hurting all the other people. He could claim he had done it all
under the Imperius, but only cowards did that. He would never sink to that level.

However, Harry made sure that his Dark Mark was covered by his sweater, just in case. Then he
looked up and gazed at the older man. It had gone unnoticed; the man still had a sorrowful and
faraway look in his eyes.

“I have a long name, but you may call me Dumbledore,” said the man at last. “However, it is
definitely a problem that you do not remember anything. This is something only Severus can
fix.”

-->



38. Severus' Help
-----------------



This chapter is dedicated to a special girl from Canada named Annick. We've known each other
for some time now and I feel as though I can talk to her about anything.

I'd also like to thank Anna Rose, who's done a wonderful job correcting this
chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Ch38: **SEVERUS' HELP**

Long ago
In someone else's lifetime
Someone with my name
Who looked a lot like me
Came to know
A man and made a promise
He only had to say
And that's where she would be
Lately
Although the feelings run just as deep
The promise she made has grown impossible to keep

**(Someone Else's Story - Chess)**

It took Harry only a second to connect the name `Severus.' He had heard the name often
enough at the Stone Edge to remember it for a lifetime - Severus Snape was the one who had turned
his back to Dark Lord and betrayed everyone. Harry felt a cold chill trickle down to his gut and
create a glowing ball of fury there. He didn't realize he had clenched his fists so tightly;
they had turned white before Albus Dumbledore had reached the fireplace. Harry wanted to protest,
but he hesitated too long. The old man was already sticking his head into the hearth so that only
the lower part of his beard and back was visible. Harry flinched and sunk deeper into his chair
when he heard Dumbledore give Snape a quick explanation about Harry's situation. All about the
loss of memories. Harry realized the whole situation had just made a turn for the worse. He
wasn't sure when Snape had left the Dark Lord's side, but it had to be around the time when
Harry took his Dark Mark, which meant that the filthy traitor probably knew Harry was a Dark wizard
and one of the Dark Lord's followers.

Not good.

What was more, however, was that Harry felt obliged to inform the Dark Lord of Snape's
whereabouts. He still felt loyal despite running away. Harry wondered if it could be because the
Death Eaters were all he knew before he met Annie, or if it had something to do with the potion he
had been forced to take. Although ... Harry let his eyes wander to the old man, who had just pulled
his head from the fireplace and was stroking the Phoenix's head ... perhaps it would be better
to play good and cooperating for a while. Dumbledore already knew Harry had no memories. Maybe
*that* could be his ticket away from Azkaban and the Dementors?

Feeling quite proud of himself, Harry tried to appear calm. He forced himself to take several
calming breaths, forced himself to not think about the Dark Mark, and forced himself not to think
about how much he resented Severus Snape.

Way too soon the fireplace turned green and spat out a tall, pale man with greasy black hair and
black clothes. He had long fingers and a crooked nose. Harry immediately disliked the man, but at
the same time he could understand how it had fooled the Dark Lord. The person Harry probably
trusted less in the whole world truly looked menacing. Harry couldn't remember seeing him
before, but he didn't fool himself into believing the man had never seen *him.*

“Potter,” the newcomer drawled, staring at Harry with unreadable, black eyes. The words
`traitor' rested on Harry's tongue, but instead he merely said:
“Snape.”

“That is Professor Snape, Harry,” corrected Dumbledore gently. “He teaches Potions.”

“I do not see the difference, Albus,” Snape commented. “The boy has always been disrespectful
and he has never made an effort to learn normal politeness like decent human beings.”

Harry almost smirked. Even his old self hadn't liked Severus Snape. The rude comment
didn't bother him at all; it actually made him feel better and more confident.

“That is a matter for another time, Severus. At the moment we need to find something that can
help Harry restore his memories.”

“I suppose a potion could do the trick,” murmured the potions master softly. “I know one that is
very effective. It demands several expensive and fragile ingredients, but it will not take me long
to brew it.”

Harry felt as though his heart was about to stop at the word `potion.'

“I am not taking another potion!” he shouted, erupting from his chair, but the adults paid no
attention to him as they were too caught up in their solution.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore cried, his eyes twinkling brighter than ever. “What are we waiting for?
Severus, please get started right away.”

The Potion Master nodded and was about to leave when his eyes caught Harry's. Harry had
scrambled from his chair and was now standing in a corner as far away as he could. Harry
couldn't help it, but the word potion made his stomach feel sick and turn into a twisted a
knot. He knew that the potions master was not on the Dark Lord's side, and that he
*probably* wouldn't feed him with another final dose of the damned elixir he had been
forced to take, but it didn't make taking another potion all right. In fact, it terrified him
to the point where he almost felt as though he had trouble breathing.

“I said I will *not* take another potion!” Harry narrowed his eyes at the two adults. “I
refuse!”

The headmaster stroked his beard while he regarded Harry carefully. “I am afraid we have little
choice in the matter. Severus, is there any other option?”

Snape sneered. “Not that I know of. There are some things only a potion can fix. To try to mess
with a spell now is not only dangerous, it could also give Potter a one-way ticket to St
Mungos.”

*Better to go there than Azkaban,* Harry mentally countered, but he was smart enough not to
say it aloud.

“Harry?” the headmaster gently inquired when Harry didn't say anything. “We are only trying
to help you.”

“I would not know,” replied Harry, deadpan. He did his best not to sound rude.

“The potion is the only thing that can restore your memories, my boy. Do you not wish to
remember?” Dumbledore stepped closer towards Harry.

Harry did want to know what kind of person he had been. It would certainly answer a lot of
questions and it could give him an advantage later on, but he wouldn't do it if the price was
too high.

The headmaster and Snape obviously took Harry's silence as a `yes.' Snape nodded curtly
and finally left the room. Harry was sure Dumbledore had noticed Snape's departure, even though
the old man's eyes had never left Harry's. “It will be all right. If we are lucky, your
memories can even give us an idea of Miss Granger's whereabouts.”

It took Harry more time to connect the name Miss Granger as Hermione than it had to connect
Severus with Snape, but when he finally made the connection, it didn't make him feel much more
eager to take the new potion. Harry gulped and closed his eyes for a brief moment, sliding down to
a sitting position on the floor in defeat. “It will not be all right,” he murmured softly. “You do
not understand.”

The headmaster bent down so he was at the same level as Harry. “Please enlighten me.”

Harry swallowed, not knowing where to begin. What was happening to him? Why did he have such an
urge to confide in the older man? At the moment Harry could barely care. It could be his only way
out of Azkaban. “It is just ... well, it is hard to explain. What if the potion goes wrong? What if
it is, uhm, something *else...* I cannot take the chance, sir.”

Understanding dawned in the older man's eyes. “Voldemort gave you potions as a part of your
imprisonment, didn't he?”

Harry didn't answer. It wasn't necessary. Dumbledore patted his knee.

“I can assure you that Professor Snape is a quite talented potions master and will certainly not
get the potion wrong. He is also a strong ally for the light. He will never do anything to harm
you.”

“But he hates me!” Harry couldn't help but exclaim. “He hates my guts! Actually, I would not
be surprised if he feeds me poison on *purpose,* not to mention another dose of that
*awful* -” realizing he had said too much, Harry abruptly shut his mouth.

Dumbledore sighed. “He does not hate you, Harry, even though he makes it seem that much. In
fact, he has saved your life several times. I know you cannot remember, but he did everything he
could to get you out from Voldemort's hide-out.”

“Come again?” Harry spluttered. Not only because Dumbledore had *yet again* insulted his
Dark Lord's name, but also because he had said that Snape had tried to get Harry *out* of
Stone Edge. It had to be before Harry took his mark, or else he would've remembered. Perhaps
Snape had known that Harry was about to get marked, and wanted to stop him from taking it...

Harry suddenly got a very bad feeling. Something wasn't right. Something about what the
headmaster had just told just didn't add up. What was more, was that Harry felt that the answer
was right in front of him. A part of him was terrified to figure out what it could be.

“You are lying,” accused Harry, after Dumbledore had repeated what he had said. Dumbledore shook
his head. Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I am not. In fact, you can see it for yourself if you take the potion. If it helps, I will
control it myself to make sure nothing is wrong. I can even take some if you want. My old mind can
surely need to remember a few details.”

“I suppose that will help a little,” admitted Harry, knowing he had ran out of excuses. It
didn't mean he had to like it though.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes sparkling again. “It will probably take a little while longer before
Severus has the potion done. Would you like something in the mean time? A cup of tea, perhaps,
or-”

Harry quickly shook his head. “I am just tired, Sir. I did not get much sleep last night.”

“Then I believe it is time for you to meet your dorm mates. They have all been missing you
dearly.” Dumbledore sobered up a little. “I am afraid there is little we can do about Miss
Granger's situation at the moment until we know more about where she could be. We have Aurors
on the case, however. There is no reason to give up hoping for the best.”

Harry nodded numbly and rose from his chair. He could not believe he was getting away from
punishment. If taking that potion was what it took to avoid it, then that was one more reason to
take it, but he had to be extremely careful.

Harry said nothing while he followed the Headmaster down the stairs from the office, past the
gargoyle, and the numerous halls they walked in before they reached their location. A portrait of a
fat and ugly lady.

“Here we are,” announced Dumbledore, unnecessarily. “The password is Flying Eagles.” The ugly
woman in the portrait smiled at Harry and said:

“Good to have you back, son. Come on in.”

Harry glared at her, but she didn't seem to notice as she swung back and revealed an
entrance to a room with too much red and gold. He felt the hairs on his neck and arms rise in alarm
and horror when he realized he was not a Slytherin after all. He could handle being a Ravenclaw or
even a Hufflepuff, but a Gryffindor? That house stood for recklessness, foolishness and irrational
pride. Gryffindors were widely known among the Death Eaters for making poor and rash decisions that
often ended up with them getting killed before the Death Eaters themselves even needed to raise a
finger.

Harry really began to dread what he would remember after taking the potion from Snape, if this
was only the beginning.

The common room went quiet when Harry entered. Every person in the room was staring at Harry in
disbelief and shock, looking as though they had just seen a ghost for the first time. A tall, red
haired boy reacted first, closely followed by a red haired girl. Unable to speak, Harry felt quite
helpless when the boy gave him a one-armed hug and clapped his back.

“Good to have you back mate. We've missed you.”

Harry could only nod as the boy let go of him and the younger girl, probably his sister, hugged
him tightly.

“Don't leave us again!” she begged fiercely. Not knowing what else to do, Harry gave the
headmaster a desperate look. To his amazement, the man seemed to take the hint.

“Students,” he called, and he got everyone's attention in a matter of seconds. “I know you
are all happy to have Mr. Potter back with us, and you are no doubt anxious to ask him many
questions. However, I am afraid it will all have to wait until tomorrow. Right now the thing he
needs the most is to rest and have a good night's sleep. Mr. Weasley, perhaps you would be so
kind as to escort him to his bed?”

The red haired boy nodded eagerly. “Of course, Professor!”

“Wonderful. Please come down right afterwards.”

Weasley nodded and gladly escorted Harry up the stairs. “I meant it when I said it's really
good to have you back,” he admitted. "It's brilliant, in fact. Gryffindor is not the same
without you.”

“Thank you,” said Harry insincerely, following the other boy into a dormitory. He was tempted to
say it had to be a huge misunderstanding and that they had to mistake him for another Harry. He
felt completely out of place, like a black sheep among dozens of whites. He had felt as though he
had belonged at the Stone Edge, and eventually he had felt as though he could belong with Annie
too. The idea of him ever actually *belonging* to Gryffindor House was absolutely laughable.
When Harry looked up again he saw the red-haired boy still standing there, shifting his weight from
one foot to the other. Harry made an impatient sound.

“You know,” the boy started. “You can tell me if there's something that bothers you. You
have obviously been through a lot, a lot more than what I can even begin to understand. I know that
I - um - maybe haven't been the best friend to you this year, but I promise to be better this
time.”

“Sure,” said Harry, not knowing what else to say. He had a strange feeling someone had told the
boy what to say to him.

“Oh,” said the Gryffindor as he bent down, reaching carefully for something under his bed. “You
probably want this.” The boy was holding a snake by its tail, his long and lanky arm stretched out
as far as possible in an effort to keep the snake away. He made a face.

“Is it mine?” asked Harry in amazement, and when the other teenager nodded Harry immediately
felt happier. He had always wanted a snake.

“I never understood why you liked that snake so much, you know.” The boy handed the snake over
to Harry and immediately stepped away. “But I suppose being a Parselmouth helps.”

Harry nodded, and felt a glowing satisfaction from the words. He was proud of being a
Parselmouth. That was something he had in common with the Dark Lord, something that made him
special.

Harry noticed that the other boy kept staring at him, almost without blinking. They shared an
awkward silence, before the lanky, red haired teenager managed to stutter that he had to go down to
the common room again. Harry raised his hand in farewell, but allowed himself to roll his eyes as
soon as the boy had disappeared from the room and the door had closed behind him. He couldn't
help thinking the other boy was an idiot. It was more than a little alarming to discover he had
been friends with people like that. At least Hermione had seemed sweet enough.

Harry sat down on his bed and leaned his back against the wall. He knew he should feel ashamed
for wanting to help a girl he knew nothing about, but for some reason it was the other way around.
He felt guilty for *not* being able to help her. Perhaps his old self had remembered `their
love' or something like that. Harry shifted uncomfortably at the thought.

Downstairs he could hear Dumbledore telling everyone what had happened to Hermione. Harry heard
it well; no one else was speaking.

Turning his attention back to the snake, Harry sighed. Things had turned out much better for him
than what he had dared to hope for. He had to forget about Hermione and try to figure out what to
do.

Harry knew he probably should drink that potion. He couldn't imagine living the rest of his
life wondering what his life had been like before. The best thing to do was to get his memories
back. Then he could get out of the building and back to Annie.

Harry sighed as the snake curled itself around his left forearm. It was just big enough to cover
the Dark Mark there, even though the poor thing looked starved.

Suddenly he heard some furious outrages downstairs from the common room.

“What's he doing there?” one of the boys shouted.

“Ten points from Gryffindor!” exclaimed an older man's voice, a voice Harry recognized as
Severus Snape's.

“Now, now, Severus.”

Harry felt his stomach turn. The potion had to be ready. He would never admit it, but he was
scared of taking that potion. He had a feeling he would discover something awful. Something that
would turn his world upside-down.

A minute later the door to the room he was staying in opened. Dumbledore and Snape stepped in.
Snape was holding a blue vial.

“Make sure you lie comfortably,” Snape instructed. “The potion will make you quite disoriented
while it digs up your memories. However, I must warn you. It is not certain it will work. It
depends on the reason you lost your memories in the first place.”

“Wait - are you saying this potion may not work after all?” Harry suddenly felt a whole new
level of doubt.

“Yes, but we are optimistic,” Dumbledore assured. “It has never failed us before.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh great. Fantastic.”

The old man didn't seem to notice Harry's sarcasm. “Wonderful. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” snapped Harry sourly. He just wanted to get it over with.

Snape handed Harry the blue glass container. Harry sniffed it first to make sure it didn't
smell anything like the stuff he had gotten at Stone Edge. Then he shrugged, tipped his head back
and downed the vial.

-

-

The potion had a very paralyzing effect, Harry realized with more than a small stab of fear. The
first few minutes Harry couldn't remember anything new, instead he was reminded of things that
had just happened: what Hermione had said to him, his night in the city with Annie, how he had
tortured those birds...

Harry stared up at the two adults looming above him, feeling quite nervous but also knowing that
there was no way back.

“Let us give him some privacy, Severus,” said Dumbledore, and he took Snape by the elbow. Snape
sneered, but complied and left the room with the headmaster. Harry was glad, it was quite difficult
to relax when someone like *that* was looking at him.

The potion had led him back to the Stone Edge now. He could recall everything he had experienced
since that time with frightening details. He remembered things he *shouldn't* remember,
like what he had eaten for breakfast the day before the raid in Diagon Alley. Remembering how the
river full of rotten bodies he had been forced to swim in looked *and* smelled like made his
stomach turn. He remembered how the skull tattoo had been spelled into his skin like it was
yesterday. He rememberd the weeks with training before that.

Then it suddenly felt as though he was taking a portkey. Only instead of a tug behind his navel
he felt a tug in his brain. Harry gasped and clutched his head with his hands. No one had told him
it would bloody hurt! He felt his eyes watering, but he blinked it away. He could feel the potion
working again. He laid still as the first of his lost memories came rushing back to him.

The new knowledge quickly became horribly confusing, however. Harry knew the potion wasn't
lying and that it had really happened, but all those memories of being tortured ... death eaters
who had broken bone after bone in his body, bruised him, humiliated him, tortured him in the worst
way possible ... he hadn't remembered that. No one had told him. He couldn't remember being
*tested* to see if he was screwed up enough to ... to *want* to be a Death Eater
either.
The suspicion Harry had about something being horribly wrong tripled.

The potion brought him back further, from how Hermione had been the one thing he had tried to
focus on not to lose his sanity completely, to Halloween, the night he had actually been captured.
By then Harry didn't bother trying to figure out everything as he remembered it. He was
discovering new things all the time. It was all so new still ... it didn't feel as though it
had actually happened to him.

Harry was tired. If it was because of the potion or exhaustion he did not know, but soon he felt
himself slipping away from reality. He lost himself into a world full of vivid colours and memories
that he had once forgotten.

-->



39. Answers
-----------



Special thanks to Anna Rose!

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Ch39: **ANSWERS**

Give me back my point of view

Cause I just can't think for you

I can hardly hear you say

What should I do, well you chooseÂ

Oh, look what you've done

You've made a fool of everyone

Oh well, it seems like such fun

Until you lose what you had won

**(Look What You've Done by Jet)**

Harry awoke, much later, in a dark room full of snoring boys. He felt disoriented and confused,
like he had been sucked into a tunnel. At first he didn't know where he was. He could've
sworn he had just been in a warm and comfortable bed, looking up at two smiling faces. One of them
had long, red hair while the other one had black and unruly hair, just like himself.

My parents, Harry realized, sitting up quickly. He reached for his glasses and quickly put them
on his nose. His heart sank when he realized he was in Gryffindor tower. It must have been a
dream; he knew perfectly well they were dead.

The Dursleys ... Harry had to close his eyes. He remembered so much from his time with them, so
many details. Things he should have forgotten. Things he didn't want to remember.

“All right there, Harry?” someone asked from a bed beside him. Ron.

“Sure,” said Harry, frowning in confusion. He felt as though he was ignoring something
important. “This may sound silly, but ... which day is this?”

It was dark so Harry couldn't see very well, but he could feel Ron's eyes on him from
across the room.

“It's Monday, April the fifteenth. Why?”

“1996?”

“Yeah? Have you gone mental or something, mate?” Ron's tone was only slightly mocking.

Harry felt a sudden urge to stick out his tongue, but refrained himself. His Master didn't
accept childish behaviour.

The thought made Harry blink, but before he could grasp its importance his mind had wandered
elsewhere. He began to lightly stroke Akin's tiny head, chuckling slightly as he remembered the
day in the zoo with the Dursleys as though it had happened yesterday. Funny, how he could use
snakes like that. He should tell Hermione; maybe she had a clever idea of how to use that
advantage in a duel. Harry realized she would probably tell him to take Animagus lessons from
McGonagall so he could *be* a snake as well. That would be very convenient if he ever needed
to get away. Merlin knew he ended up in trouble often enough as it was, with or without Death
Eaters. Harry hissed this idea to Akin, who seemed quite taken with the idea of Harry turning into
a snake like him.

So many memories! Harry felt as though he could spend the whole day doing nothing but think. The
future didn't seem very important.

The chamber of secrets ... the basilisk. Now *that* had been a huge snake, not to mention
dangerous. Couldn't everyone have a basilisk though? All they needed was a chicken egg and a
toad. However, it would be difficult for them to control the snake if they couldn't speak
Parseltongue... Harry shrugged and started to think about Fawkes, and his old Defense teacher
Professor Lockhart. Then he started to think about the ward in St Mungos, and if the professor had
gotten any better. Harry hoped not, the world was a better place without him.

Thank Merlin Hermione wasn't obsessed with him anymore. On the other hand she was more
obsessed with the books than the author himself. Still, better to have the scumbag out of the
world, thought Harry. Hermione was *his* girlfriend after all, and - wait. That wasn't
quite correct. She broke up with him. And then...

Oh no. No, no, no. Lucius had her! Death Eaters! Stone Edge! The Dark Lord!

Harry gasped, cold panic spreading from his gut to his very core. The bite of frost was so
fierce and painful it felt like it was cleaving him. He was ... no, it couldn't be, it had to
be a dream.

Deep down, Harry didn't need to remove the snake around his wrist and look at his forearm to
know it was true. But he had to be sure.

Terrified, and widely awake now, Harry's stiff fingers closed around Akin's slim body,
then removed the snake. The sight of a horrible skull with a snake curling out of its mouth was
clearly visible for Harry, even through the dark. He could have sworn his heart stopped the very
moment when he could no longer deny the truth of all the terrible things he had done, every selfish
and manipulative thing, every person or creature he had tortured and killed.

Harry did the only thing he could do: he screamed.

Blood rushed to his ears and his scream tore at his throat so much it hurt, but all the while he
screamed, screamed like he had never screamed before. He was so terrified, so full of utter and
complete horror that he didn't know what to do with himself. He had tortured for fun. He had
killed a pregnant woman. He had gotten Ron's, his *best friend's* brother Percy
killed! He had flirted with Bellatrix, he had fawned on the Dark Lord, and perhaps worst of all ...
he had done nothing to stop Lucius from taking Hermione.

Harry couldn't breathe. So many emotions were threatening to burst out of him at once that
he was sure he was going to explode. He felt sparks of magic in the air around him, but was too
distraught to care.

Harry stumbled out of bed and fell blindly to the floor. His hand flew up to his throat while
he struggled for breath. He had stopped screaming, and he was dimly aware of someone trying to
grab his shoulders. Black spots danced before his eyes.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” breathed Ron, sounding shaken. Neville had gotten out of bed as well,
while Dean and Seamus were still in their beds, ignoring them.

Harry forcibly shook his head and croaked out a `no.'Â *He was not all right!*Â

He turned desperately to Neville, clutching the boy's PJs like a drowning man. “I am a good
person, right? I cannot possibly be a Death Eater, can I?”

“It was just a dream, Harry,” said Neville nervously. “Besides, if you were one you would have
the Dark Mark.”

Harry moaned and shook his head in denial. “I'm not...” he whispered. “I cannot be,
*no*...”

Someone put a hand on his shoulder from behind and Harry started and spun around, only to see
Ron standing there.

“Go to bed, Harry.”

Harry blinked, trying to clear the fog of confusion and horror in his brain. He felt an itch in
his fingers to use Dark Arts, but ignored it the best he could. It had only been 24 hours since the
last time. He could wait -

Why was he even thinking about it? He could never use the Dark Arts again!

*Never...*

A cold hand clutched Harry's heart. The thought of never using any Dark Arts again bothered
him immensely, more than what he would like to admit. Closing his eyes, Harry willed himself to
not think about it. He knew that wishing would not be enough to stop him from being one of the
Dark Lord's followers. It didn't matter that he remembered everything now and regretted
it. It didn't matter that the Dark Lord had manipulated him into taking the mark. His time
with the Death Eaters was so strong and so fresh in his mind that he couldn't help feeling as
though he belonged there as much as he belonged at Hogwarts. Months with training and learning had
made their desired effect. And so had the potion.

Harry felt sick and the content in his stomach did a sudden jump. He had to clutch his mouth
tightly with his hands to stop the vomit from spraying across the room. Harry rushed to the
bathroom and wasted no time in leaning over the toilet and retch. When he was done he shakily
locked the door to the bathroom with the most powerful locking charm he could manage.

He went over to the sink, trembling violently while he washed his face and gulped down several
handfuls with water. For a while he simply stared at the running water. It seemed like a good way
to keep himself from thinking and remembering.

It had been so much easier before. He had known who he was then, despite of not knowing his
past. Now he didn't know who he was anymore. Was he the Boy-Who-Lived, the Light Side's
hero and fighter, or was he a Death Eater, Heir of the Dark Lord? Did none of the options fit him,
or did both?

Harry let out a shaky breath and looked at his reflection in the mirror. His face was paler
than it used to be and his hair was a mess. Â His lips held little or no colour, while his eyes
were framed red as though he had been crying. What hit Harry, however, was how the colour of his
eyes had changed.  His eyes didn't have the startling, green look in them anymore. They shone
with a darker intensity that he couldn't quite explain. *Perhaps eyes really are the window
of the soul,* he mused. He certainly had a darker soul than before.Â

Harry let his eyes travel down to his arms, still finding it hard to believe he was marked as a
Death Eater. The snake tattoo stretched itself up his arm as high as it could go, curled down
again and hissed. Harry felt as though it was mocking him.

He had to get rid of it.

Fumbling, he searched the cabinet for something he could use. His gaze finally landed on a
scissor and he quickly took it up. He sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the sink. He
glared at the ugly mark and smirked bitterly. He played with the scissor between his fingers a
bit, then opened the handle to part the tip. He used the sharpest part to try to rip and puncture
the skin where the dark mark was. He didn't dare to use a spell, it was too unpredictable.

It hurt a great deal, but it didn't damage to mark at all. Crying out in frustration, Harry
ripped the scissor across his skin harsher and more furiously than before. Every now and then the
scissor would trail to unmarked skin, and when it did it created an angry and red line.

With a sigh, Harry realized he couldn't destroy to mark. Trying a different tactic, he
began to trace the outline of the mark with the scissor. He punctured his skin, watching
dispassionately as red blood began to flow out from where the wound was. Harry clenched his jaw,
letting the scissor dig deeper into his flesh. He even tried to angle the scissor to parallel his
arm so he could get the tip underneath the mark and break through it that way, but it didn't
help.

-

It was a good while later Harry finally gave up, panting. His whole arm was covered in blood,
but the only place he was actually bleeding was around the mark. The mark itself was as whole as
ever and continued to mock him. He felt a strong urge to sob when he realized that he was marked
for the rest of his life; there was nothing he could do to make it go away.

Harry realized the dark mark was another thing he had in common with Hogwarts' potion
master. If anyone knew what Harry was going through it was Snape, and Harry needed someone who knew
what he was going through.

Knowing Snape probably was his safest bet to get some answers, Harry decided he had to go and
see him. It was way past curfew, but when did the man ever sleep anyway?

Cleaning up the mess with the wand which still belonged to the dark lord, Harry opened the door
back to the dormitory. All the boys were sleeping again, which made Harry wonder how long he had
stayed in the bathroom. Silently finding a long-sleeved sweater and Akin, Harry put both on while
he left Gryffindor tower.

Harry's heart was already aching for Hermione. He really missed her. *She'd known
what to do...*

Harry met no one on his way to the dungeons and he was grateful. He had no idea how he would
react to anyone at the moment. He doubted he could keep his head cool if anyone startled him. It
was possible he would curse someone instinctively.

Harry reached the dungeons in no time. The air was much cooler down there and made him freeze
despite of his sweater. On top of that he felt ill with nervousness.

Telling himself to just get it over and done with and stop being such a baby, he knocked on the
dark, looming door in front of him which he knew were the entrance to Snape's living
quarters.

Harry waited for someone to open, but the door remained closed for a long time. Harry was just
about to leave when the door finally opened, and he was face to face with a tired and angry looking
potion master.

To see Snape so annoyed didn't help Harry's nervousness, and he actually took himself in
taking a few steps back.

“What, pray tell, are you here for in *the middle of the night*, Potter?” barked the head
of Slytherin viciously. Harry gulped and prayed that it wasn't a mistake for him to come.

“Sorry to bother you sir, but I was wondering if I could talk to you? Only for a minute, it will
not take long. It is important.” Harry shot the man a desperate look which he instantly hated
himself for. *He wasn't going to beg ... he was better than that. His Lord had thought him to
never-*

Harry quickly interrupted himself, forcing himself back to the present. He searched the older
man's face, but his expression was hard for Harry to assess. Snape scowled thoughtfully, but
opened the door wider so Harry could get in.

Snape's living quarters were simple, but elegant. The floor had pale, almost white walls,
which contrasted with the dark, rich wooden floor under Harry's feet. Almost all the furniture
was black, including a couch and an armchair in the right corner as well as a huge bookcase in the
left corner. It was simple, but still seemed to reflect Snape's personality*.* Â Now that
Harry had seen it he couldn't imagine Snape's living quarters looking any different.

“Sit down,” commanded the potion master, pushing Harry down on the couch before he sat down on
an armchair on the opposite side of Harry. “Spill.”

Harry nodded and looked down at his hands, knowing it wouldn't be easy.

“I - I wanted to thank you for helping me when I was imprisoned. You tried to get me out, and
... I will never forget that. Thank you, sir.”

Snape sighed in exasperation and anger. “*This* is the reason you came to see me? It
couldn't possibly wait until morning, when people are *not* trying to sleep?”

Harry's eyes widened. “You were sleeping? I did not mean to wake you, sir, I just figured
-“

“Figured what?” asked Snape dangerously, and Harry swallowed what he had been planning to say
about assuming Snape never slept.

“Never mind,” he murmured. “It is not the main reason I came to see you, however.”

Snape waited for Harry to continue.

“I also wanted to ask you about being a Death Eater. What made you take the mark anyway?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Please, sir, I need to know.” *So much for not begging,* thought Harry morosely.

Snape folded his arms and looked at Harry down his nose, almost defiantly. “Why is that?”

Harry opened his mouth to tell the professor about his own mark, or maybe even show it, but his
confidence left him in the last second. It left him a bitter taste in his mouth. He was such a
coward.

“Because,” he started, casting around for an excuse. “I have seen a lot of things of what Death
Eaters do. I know more about how they think, how they act. How they kill...” Harry's voice
trailed off as he remembered the people he had killed himself. He found it hard to believe that
only a year before he had been terrified of knowing that he either had to be a murderer or a
victim. Now he already had killed someone, but it was not the Dark Lord and he could still lose.Â
He would have to kill again.

“You want to know why I decided to become one?” Snape challenged. Harry nodded carefully. “Very
well. However, make sure you remember that I did it of my own free will. Both of my parents were
dark wizards and I was raised as one. They sided with the Dark Lord early and I was expected to do
the same.

“School slowed down those plans and it was decided that I would wait with taking the mark until
I had finished my education. It would be too risky to let me take the mark before that, as it is
difficult to hide something like that in a school. If it was to be discovered, the consequences
would be ... disastrous.”

Harry tried to swallow the abnormally huge lump he had in his throat. He suddenly had the
uncomfortable feeling that Snape wasn't *entirely* talking about himself, but Harry as
well. *Did he already know?*

“School changed my view on some matters, however,” Snape continued as though he was talking
about how he liked his coffee. “I discovered that everything did not evolve around the Dark Lord,
and that the world could be a better place without him. However, school also left me bitter. I was
different than everyone else and thus did not get along with many. I began to study the Dark Arts
and dream of how I could hurt people like your father. I am sure you remember from *my*
memories in the Pensieve that we did not get along very well. He was a self-centered, conceited and
selfish boy, who showered himself in undeserved attention.” Snape sneered at this, his black eyes
boring into Harry. Harry held his tongue; he wanted Snape to continue. Snape did.

“I stuck to my family's plan and took the mark right after I finished school. For a while
everything was good and I was more than happy to follow the Dark Lord and do his bidding. It was
refreshing to feel as though I belonged. Then, after several years in his service, I began to grow
tired of the never-ending lifestyle. There was always someone I had to kill, always a house or a
family that needed to be taken care of. I had to prove myself to the Lord all the time, and even
though I succeeded in getting into his inner circle I never felt safe. I often wondered if he was
going to let me live if I slipped up, or if he was going to torture me for bringing him bad news.
It became old, and I was sick of being treated like dirt and like I did not matter. I became
tempting to settle down with a family of my own.”

“A family?” echoed Harry before he could stop himself, finding it hard to look at Snape as a
family man.

Snape took one look at Harry's stunned face and curled his upper lip. “Yes, *Potter,* a
family. Is it that hard to imagine a teacher can have a family outside Hogwarts?”

Harry hadn't given it a lot of thought, but quickly shook his head. “When did you decide to
become a spy?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.

“When I overheard a certain prophecy,” drawled Snape in triumph, his black eyes boring into
Harry's again. Harry remembered that the potion master was a skilled in mind reading and
quickly looked away.

“So you know,” muttered Harry quietly. Snape nodded.

“I do, but so do all the other Death Eaters at Stone Edge. Do you not remember? Didn't the
potion work?”

“Oh yes, it worked all right,” said Harry. “I remember telling them. I just do not like to
think about it.”

“Ignoring the problem will not make it go away,” Snape pointed out. “However, it was after
hearing the prophecy for the first time I realized that the Dark Lord was not unbeatable and that I
could be a free man. Dumbledore discovered that I had overheard him and Trelawney and we had a
little chat. That is when I agreed on being a spy and he offered me a position at Hogwarts.”

“I am sorry you had to blow your cover because of me, Professor,” Harry offered. He felt
guilty, especially since he remembered how difficult he had made it. It wasn't just because he
had been too weak to run, he had been too scared. He hadn't *wanted* to escape. Harry
realized it was the torture he had received after that incident that made him lose all thoughts of
being a light wizard. After that he began to long for the power he saw the Death Eaters have. He
had wanted to be the one who caused pain instead of being the one who received it.

Snape said nothing to Harry's apology, but he didn't seem angry either. Harry found
that encouraging.

“Sir ... when I was at the Stone Edge, the Dark Lord wanted to give me a potion. I do not know
what it is called, but it was light green and smelled awful. Do you have any idea of what it does
and how to counter it?”

Snape's head snapped up at this. “A potion? Did you take it? All three doses?”

Harry shook his head, only answering the last question. “No ... I overheard the Dark Lord
talking to Bella about how it would work. He said that after I took it I would not have a mind of
my own anymore, and that I would be completely under his control until the day he died. Something
that cannot happen then as long as I am the only one who can kill him.”

“You use the name `Dark Lord,'” observed Snape. Harry figured it was no point in denying
it. He couldn't even imagine using the Dark Lord's real name anymore. It was
impossible.

“Yes,” he said, looking down. Snape didn't ask him why, but continued as though he had never
mentioned it.

“The Dark Lord is right about the potion, I happen to know a lot about it as I was supposed to
make it. Â I believe he has a rather dubious interpretation about the prophecy, but you never know
how things will turn out. He could be right about the fact that he cannot be killed by anyone but
you, but then that should go for you as well, Potter. I suppose you are not interested in finding
out if you are, in fact `immortal' or not by letting me try to kill you?”

Harry just stared, wondering if the potion master was serious or if he had attempted a joke.Â
“Um, not really,” he replied.

“Thought so. I would not recommend you to try to get yourself killed by some stupid stunt
either. Merlin knows we need you alive so you can challenge the Dark Lord. We must remember that
he believes you are immortal as long as you do not attack each other; we can find a way to use that
to our advantage.”

Harry nodded in agreement, but then thought of a certain Gryffindor girl. “But the Dark Lord has
Hermione! We need to find a way to save her!”

“You will do no such thing!” Snape thundered. “She is not important enough in this war!”

“But sir!” Harry objected, unable to keep the desperation away from his voice. “She is important
to *me!*  I need her! Why try to win this war if there is nothing to win for?”

Snape narrowed his eyes dangerously. “I recommend you to stop only thinking about yourself this
instant! You truly are your father's son if you are so shortsighted as that you cannot see the
reason people *keep* sacrificing themselves for you. We must win this war, or it would have
been for nothing.”

Harry blinked. *Great.Â* Like he needed to be reminded of all the people who had sacrificed
themselves for him. What really stung, however, was that Snape had practically said they hadn't
done it because they loved him, they done it for the greater good. “You are right. Sorry.” Harry
felt the urge to kick something. He couldn't believe he had apologized to Snape twice already,
that was just plain ridiculous

“It is no use beating yourself up over Miss Granger's captivity, Potter,” Snape advised,
“only one with a Dark Mark can reach her now as long as she is in the Dark Lord's clutches. He
makes sure to block all possibilities for Apparition, Floo and Portkeys in cases like this.”

Harry made sure to keep his face blank so it wouldn't betray the turmoil of thoughts that
had started to spin in his head... He decided to change the subject. “As for the potion, though ...
is there a way to counter it?”

Snape threw Harry a concerned look that Harry definitely didn't like. “No. There is only two
ways to have some degree of control over it. The best way is to simply refuse drinking it as it
has to be taken willingly. If you already have it in your system the only thing you can do is to
stay away from all Dark Arts.”

Harry felt his eyes widen. “Dark Arts? Why?”

“The potion interacts directly with Dark Arts and need it in order to work. The Dark Arts
creates a unique energy which the potion feeds from. It cannot work without it.”

Harry smiled in relief. It felt good to know there was a way to control it. He doubted he
could stop with the Dark Arts, but he didn't need to as long as he didn't drink the last
dose of the potion. Now he just needed to save Hermione.

Harry stood up from the couch, and nodded politely to Snape. “I better go back to Gryffindor,
sir. Thank you for the potion, the talk, everything. I will not forget it.”

The potion master stood up as well and crossed his arms. “This took more than one minute,
Potter.”

Harry grimaced sheepishly. “I know.”

Snape led him to the door and opened it like he couldn't wait for Harry to disappear.

“Good night, Professor,” said Harry, stepping out in the hall. He realized this had to be the
longest civil conversation he had ever had with the head of Slytherin. It made him feel rather
optimistic about the future.

“Night, Potter. Next time you decide to grace me with your presence be sure to come in day
time.” Snape was just about to close the door, when he opened it again. He curled his lips in a
way that could almost be described as a cruel smile, and added, like in afterthought: “And ten
points from Gryffindor for being out of bed after curfew.”

Harry just rolled his eyes and began to walk back to the Portrait of the Fat (but Undeniably
Ugly) Lady. It didn't matter what Snape had said about Hermione not being important enough in
the war. He was going to save her the next time his mark burned. In the mean time he would simply
have to keep the mark a secret and prepare for what could be the most important fight in his
life.

-

**A/N:** There's a picture for this chapter. If you wish to see it, simply go to my
yahoo!group address from my profile on ff.net. You can find the link here: http://www.fanfiction.net/~quizgirl

Tell me about your plans for the summer! I'm going to spend some time with my family and
friends, find a job and have fun. I hope to visit England, but I don't know if it'll work
out yet. Thanks for reviewing! I hope you liked the chapter.

-->



40. A Lose - Lose Situation
---------------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Phew. I never thought I'd get this chapter done! Took me awfully long though, I'm really
sorry. Hopefully it'll never happen again, at least not with this story. I also hope you're
still reading, and if you're too angry to review that's understandable. Anyway, no more
waiting, on with the chapter!

Special thanks to Anna Rose for her help and encouragement. Check out her stories here!:
www.fanfiction.net/u/919847/

-

Ch40: **A LOSE - LOSE SITUATION**

I don't want to let go, girl.

I just need you to know girl.

I don't wanna run away, baby you're the one I need tonight,

No promises.

Baby, now I need to hold you tight, I just wanna die in your arms

**(No Promises by Shane Ward)**

Harry was so lost in thought the entire way back to the common room that he started when his
feet stopped walking and he saw he was standing outside the Gryffindor portrait. He sighed and said
the password. The portrait swung open obediently and Harry went in with his head down, deep in
thought.

Harry wasn't sure what to think of Gryffindor anymore. It was his house and had been more of
a home to him than Privet Drive had ever been, but he didn't feel as though he belonged there
any longer. He couldn't deny that the strong colours of red and gold made his skin crawl or
that the people in it seemed to be very narrow minded and saw everything in black and white. Only
twelve hours ago, Harry had thought about how much he would rather belong to Slytherin, but he
didn't belong there either. As far as he could see, none of the Hogwarts houses fitted him
anymore.

“Hi Harry,” someone said. Harry jumped in surprise, but he relaxed when he saw it was Ron.

“Hi Ron,” replied Harry dutifully, “what are you doing up so late?”

“So early, you mean?” said Ron with a short laugh. “It's nearly six a.m.”

“Oh.” Harry waited for Ron to continue talking.

“Actually, your snake woke me. You should be more careful, you know,” Ron advised after a short
moment of silence. “*I* would never hurt Akin as he's your pet, but I can't speak for
Dean and Seamus. They are dead tired of him, seriously. I've heard them make jokes about how
they can `accidentally' kill him and stuff.”

Harry frowned angrily at this, and thanks to old habits he was already plotting how he could
make Seamus and Dean pay for their jokes. However, deep down he also knew he would never act on it.
Not now as he remembered them as friends. Besides, they joked about many things. Surely they
didn't mean it? Surely they wouldn't *really* hurt Akin?

Ron leaned back in the armchair he was sitting in and stretched his arms above his head with a
yawn before he smiled mischievously at Harry. “The question is ... what are *you* doing out of
bed at this hour?”

Harry resisted the urge to take a step back. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Ron shrugged. “You asked me, so I asked you.”

“Oh, I was just walking around, to look at things. It has been a while since the last time I
were here, you know.” Harry could've kicked himself for the bad excuse, but Ron just nodded in
understanding.

“No kidding. It's already spring, and you've only been here less than two months of the
entire year,” Ron said. Suddenly his face adapted such a serious expression it was almost comical.
“Was it ... you know, horrible there?” Ron leaned forward, still with the same expression in his
face. Harry noticed the expression didn't suit his friend at all; it gave him wrinkles and he
looked stupid with his mouth hanging open. Harry stopped these thoughts quickly before they got too
far and answered the question.

“It was no *fun,* if that is what you are asking ... but it was certainly a learning
experience.”

“I don't know how you deal with it all,” continued Ron. “And now that you're finally
here again, the same thing that happened to you happened to Hermione. How do you think she will
handle being there?”

“I,” Harry began, “I think she, er, well, I would like to say she can handle it, but I do not
know what they are going to do with her. They do not have her for the same reason they had me. I
believe they did not actually plan to capture her, it was me they really wanted. She is more like
the bait, I think.”

Ron's eyes were very wide. “Are you going to save her?”

“Of course,” replied Harry at once.

“I'll come with you,” said Ron quickly, looking excited at the prospect of a new adventure.
“Do you know where she is and how to get there?”

“She is probably the same place I was.” Harry sat on the armrest on the couch and looked at Ron
seriously, purposely avoiding the last question. “But you cannot come with me.” Harry held up his
hand and continued before Ron could respond with an angry remark. “This is something only I can do.
I know the place and I know the people. If both of us went, we would be discovered easier, it is
too risky.”

“But we always do things like this together,” protested Ron meekly. “What's changed?”

“I have,” muttered Harry, and he looked away. He got a very bitter taste in his mouth and he
badly wanted to curse something from the unfairness of it all. “And the situation. We are at war,
Ron, and Hermione's life is in danger. They are probably torturing information out of her as we
speak, maybe even doing other *unspeakable* things.” Harry shuddered as he remembered the not
- so - innocent comment one of the Death Eaters had made about Hermione being a virgin or not. “You
have no idea what kind of things they can do, Ron. They do not have any morals to anything except
the Dark Lord's orders. The Death Eaters are going to guard her very carefully, perhaps even
the Dark Lord himself. If you come, you will be a *spare.* Remember Cedric?”

Ron nodded. His face had gotten so pale, his freckles stood out clearly against his skin. Harry
felt as though he had just cursed his friend with the Cruciatus, but it was necessary. Ron needed
to grow up before something bad happened. At least he, Harry, had learned his lesson.

“Yeah, I remember him,” said the red haired boy at last, looking defeated.

“Good,” said Harry, grateful Ron had seen his reasoning.

They sat for a while in silence.

“Things are never gonna be the same again, are they?” asked Ron, but it didn't sound like a
question. He looked very sad.

“No,” admitted Harry. “We are not children anymore. We cannot simply put our heads in the sand
and wait for everything to work out. In fact, I am not sure I believe everything will work out in
the end anymore.”

Ron didn't know what to say to that, but Harry hadn't been lying or exaggerating; he
really did not believe things would work out in his favour this time. How could it, as long as
Hermione was captivated by the Dark Lord? If Harry went there, he would probably have to change
places with her, and then there would be absolutely no hope that he would be able to escape
again.

This time, it was a lose - lose situation.

-

Harry became very depressed and secluded in the next few days, and for every day that passed, he
grew more and more sure that he could never win the war without Hermione by his side. No matter
what happened and no matter what he had to do, he had to go back to the Dark Lord and save her.

When Harry first acknowledged this was how it had to be, he felt that sooner was better than
later. He couldn't bear the thought of Hermione having to be there in the death eater den
longer than necessary. However, he had to wait until the Dark Lord activated the mark before he
could do anything, as only the mark could transport him to the Stone Edge. The mark had bothered
Harry frequently while he had been living with Annie, but not anymore. It was as though the Dark
Lord knew how much Harry desired it to burn and avoided activating it just to mock him. Harry had
never been more frustrated; *days* went by and he didn't even feel a tiny stab of pain!
Harry actually would've suspected the Dark Lord to be either sick or dead had it not been for
his scar, which would twinge with anticipation now and then, like to make up for the lack of pain
from the mark.

Being back at Hogwarts was absurd for Harry. The castle, which he had truthfully called his home
only a year ago, seemed false now; like an illusion or a soap bubble ready to burst. Nothing felt
like it used to be.

Maybe it was because everyone stopped and looked twice at him every time they saw him, as though
they couldn't quite believe he was real, or maybe it was because every girl who carried books
or had brown hair reminded him of Hermione, but not having her by his side was like a wound that
wouldn't heal, aching deep inside him. Harry felt terribly lonely and lost without her, and Ron
was not nearly enough to make up for her absence.

Harry eventually returned back to his classes. Most of his teachers got teary-eyed whenever they
saw him and let him get away with anything, which was fine with Harry. His classed didn't
really interest him anymore and he did poor on his assignments. In subjects like Transfiguration
and Potions, the class had moved to such complicated tasks that Harry doubted he would ever catch
up.

On top of it, Harry's addiction to the Dark Arts began to make things difficult for him. He
was determined to stop using them completely and he had avoided any situations where he might snap
or fall for the temptation, but it became increasingly difficult to restrain himself. When he
wasn't thinking about Hermione, he was thinking about dark curses and hexes. He was constantly
sweating, his hands were shaking and it became difficult to focus on ordinary tasks. He became
withdrawn and angry at everyone and everything. Most of his teachers took pity in him and assumed
it was because of Hermione and his `horrible, traumatic experience,' but Harry knew it was only
a matter of time before he messed up.

Snape was the one who made Harry the most nervous and self-conscious, so Harry began to avoid
him as much as possible. The man wasn't as easily fooled as the other teachers and he kept
shooting Harry suspicious looks. Harry knew he could blame himself for Snape's suspicion,
though; he should've remembered that Snape had probably been addicted to the Dark Arts himself
once, and therefore would know all the signs. They hadn't talked since their night in the
dungeons and they weren't as hostile to each other as they had been once, but those looks told
Harry that he had to be careful. The less the man knew about how hard Harry was struggling to keep
his appearance up, the safer Harry and everyone else would be.

However, there were people Harry could not avoid, no matter how much he tried. Ron, but also
Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin was particularly annoying and obnoxious and Ron seemed to make it his
job to protect Harry, which was almost equally annoying.

Harry could not understand why Ron thought Harry couldn't take care of himself. It was quite
ironic; considering how close Harry was to the edge these days, it was really Malfoy Ron should be
protecting.

Harry's patience had gotten so paper thin that little could make him overreact and do
something he would regret later. He wanted to wipe the smirk off Malfoy's face so badly that
his wand nearly glowed in his pocket every time he saw the Slytherin, and he could feel `his darker
self' bubble beneath the surface. The only thing that had kept him in check so far was because
he needed to be ready so he could at least try to rescue Hermione.

With that in mind, Harry prepared himself mentally for the next lesson; Transfiguration.

“Come on, Harry, or we'll be late,” said Ron sternly, and took Harry's arm and began to
drag Harry down towards the Transfiguration classroom. Harry would've laughed if it had not
been for the fact that the gesture reminded him of Hermione.

“I can find my own way down, thanks,” sighed Harry. “I am familiar with the castle, believe it
or not.”

Ron got a little red on the top of ears, and let Harry's arm drop. “Fine.”

Ron sped up his walk to the point where Harry almost had to run to keep up.

“Trouble in paradise?” said someone to Harry's left, and Harry didn't need to turn his
head to see who it was to know the voice was Draco Malfoy's. Not bothering to answer or slow
down, Harry left Draco behind and continued to follow Ron to the Transfiguration classroom, where
most of the class was already waiting.

Harry felt his stomach tighten with a sudden nervousness when he saw the class staring at
him.

“Hi guys,” he muttered, not meeting anyone's eye or trying to talk with anyone. Luckily, at
that moment, McGonagall appeared around the corner and opened the classroom door. Everybody piled
in and Harry once again found himself having to follow Ron to a couple of seats in the back. This
was the second Transfiguration class Harry had attended since he came back to the castle, and they
were sitting in the exact same seats as last time. Harry wondered when that had changed; Hermione
had made sure they were all sitting in the front for every lesson before Halloween, when Pettigrew
appeared with the portkey and the unnaturally strong silver hand, taking Harry away.

McGonagall started the lesson.

“Today, we are going to continue working on human transfiguration. You are not to transfigurate
your arm to the arm of a monkey's this time, but to one of a cat. Remember you should not
practice this without supervision until you got it right. I assume you all know what a cat paw
looks like, but if not -” here McGonagall waived her wand and produced a picture, animated so
everyone could see the paw from every angle, “-you can look at this picture. You may begin.”

Harry sighed as all the other students took out their wands and practiced the wand movement
silently. Everyone seemed to take this quite seriously and Harry couldn't blame them - he would
rather not make his arm explode or something like that. Harry didn't feel very confident about
the spell at all, so he watched the other students for a while to get some tips on what to expect.
Normally he would just ask Hermione, but given the situation it was rather difficult. Ron seemed to
struggle with the spell as well so Harry didn't bother to ask him for help. Parvati, on the
other hand, appeared to handle the task well. She was one of the first students to successfully
transfigurate her arm into something that resembled a cat's. Harry remembered from the last
Transfiguration lesson how she had showed everyone her animagus form; a small and pretty dark blue
and black bird. An Asian Fairy bluebird.

Struck by sudden inspiration, he tapped Parvati on her shoulder, hoping she could give him some
pointers.

“How do you do it?” he asked, leaning forwards so he didn't have to raise his voice so much.
He remembered the depressed mess the girl had been in after her family was killed, and he was glad
to see that her eyes were sparkling again. She didn't seem to have much contact with Lavender
anymore, however.

“It's not that difficult really,” said the dark haired girl with an encouraging smile. “Just
wave your wand like this while you visualize what you want your hand to become in every detail, and
then say *Anima Basila.* With a long `*I*.'”

“Um, okay, thanks,” said Harry, only to figure out he still didn't get it. and he turned
back to his desk again, only to figure out that he still didn't get it. He cleared his throat
so he could get Parvati's attention again. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” she replied. “Just tickles. It only hurts if you don't get it right. The first
time I did it, it hurt *really* bad, I had to go to Madam Pomfrey and everything...”

Harry grimaced.

Parvati laughed, brushing some of her long black hair away from her face with her hand. “Hey,
don't worry, if I can do it then you can too. Just relax and take it easy.”

“Will do,” said Harry, and he turned his attention back to his desk again. He rolled up his left
sleeve and pointed his wand at the underside of his arm, only to discover that he was showing off
the dark mark to the entire classroom. He let out a strangled yelp and quickly pulled his sleeve
down, his heart beating madly in his chest. Harry quickly looked around, and saw that several
students and McGonagall were watching him. He couldn't tell whether or not they had seen the
mark.

“Is there a problem, Potter?” asked McGonagall, walking over to him.

“No, not at all,” said Harry, a little too fast.

“Let me see you try the spell then,” she said, waiting with her arms crossed over her chest.
Harry could feel the tiny hairs in his neck stand and goose bumps appear on his skin. Was it just a
trick to see if they had really seen a mark there?

“Um, now?” asked Harry with a small voice.

“Yes, now,” said McGonagall sternly. “Or you will have to wait until the next lesson, and you
need all the extra practice you can get. Come on, now.”

“You can do it, Harry,” said Parvati from the seat in front of him.

“Yes, you can,” muttered Ron from his right, having finally gotten some ginger fur on his arm,
although no more than that.

“What, are you like my cheerleaders now?” said Harry, too nervous to be particularly annoyed
about it. Why did he hesitate? If he could produce a Patronus at age thirteen, then surely he could
do this too?

Harry rolled up his sleeve again, making sure to keep the mark down to the desk so it was not
visible to anyone. Merlin, he hoped they hadn't seen it!

He pointed cautiously at his arm with the Dark Lord's wand again, concentrating of what
Parvati had said, only with Hermione's voice: *Anima Basila. Anima Basiiila.*

“*Anima Basila*!” he said, while he pictured the cat paw and giving the wand an extra flip.
Nothing happened.

“Visualize,” McGonagall advised. Harry resisted the urge to snap back. He *was*
visualizing!

“*Anima Basila*!” he cried again, furiously, not caring that he had raised his voice so
much that everyone else who weren't already watching stopped what they were doing and turned to
stare at him. “*ANIMA BASILA*! *This is not working, professor!”*

“Take it easy, Potter,” said McGonagall and she put her hand on Harry's right wrist to keep
him from poking someone's eye out with his wand. “Your hand is shaking ... take a few deep
breaths. It will be no use to hurt a student or destroy the classroom with a wayward spell.”

Harry realized she was right, and he quickly put both of his hands in his lap in an effort to
hide the shaking. He couldn't help thinking what the Dark Lord would do to him if Harry did
this bad in one of their lessons. It would not be particularly pleasant.

“Can I leave? Please?”

McGonagall hesitated, but finally nodded. “All right. You need to regain your strength before
doing advanced magic like this. I advice you to visit Madam Pomfrey just in case, to see if there
is anything she can do.”

Harry just nodded.

“Can I go with him, professor?” asked Ron, and lent forwards and whispered to McGonagall like he
didn't want Harry to hear: “He shouldn't be alone right now.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Very well, mister Weasley. You may go as well.”

Not saying a word, Harry packed his things. Everyone was treating him like he was a fragile
porcelain doll and he hated it. He wished they could just all leave him alone.

-

“You know,” Ron said as soon as they had exited the classroom and no one could hear them. “I
think McGonagall has a soft spot for you, Harry.”

Harry snorted.

“She has a point, though. You should go to Madam Pomfrey, you don't look too good.”

“Gee, thanks Ron.”

Ron continued as though Harry hadn't made a comment at all. “Are you sure you're not
sick or something? You're sweating, your hands are shaking and you're too tired to do magic
... though the spell wasn't easy, I give you that.”

“It is this stupid wand...” muttered Harry under his breath, just not loud enough for Ron to
hear. He gave the Dark Lord's wand a hateful look. “I want my old one back.”

“What? You want it all done, back? Sorry, mate, either I didn't hear you, or you're not
making a lot of sense.”

“I said there is no way I am going to Madam Pomfrey,” Harry invented. “Hey, maybe I should just
go to bed now and maybe I will feel better in the morning.”

Ron hesitated. “I don't know, Harry, McGonagall said -”

“When did you start to listen to what she has to say anyway? I do not need a baby sitter, Ron!”
Harry was truly annoyed now.

“It's not like that, mate -” started Ron, but Harry cut him off again.

“Look, it is probably nothing anyway. I should just take a nap.” They had reached the Gryffindor
portrait. “See you later.” Biting out the password, Harry hurried inside and went right up to his
bed. Not to sleep, however.

Finally being somewhere he didn't have to act wear a mask of normality, Harry's
shoulders slumped with relief. He rubbed his face tiredly with his shaking hands. He didn't lie
down, instead he sat with his back leaned against the wall and his feet curled beneath him.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to count silently to ten, but it didn't help. He held his
hands in front of his face. Despite his very best efforts, he could not keep them from shaking. He
even tried to sit on them, but then his elbows and shoulders started to shake and that, in his
opinion, was worse. He didn't need Hermione to tell him it was because of all the suppressed
dark energy that was flowing in his veins. He had been using the Dark Arts for so long that he had
become addicted to it. How good wouldn't it be, to summon a bird or two and play with them a
bit ... that would calm him, that would make him feel fit as a fiddle again...

*No!* Harry screamed inwardly. *Never again! Never, never, never!*

Fumbling with his wand he quickly muttered a silence spell to his throat. He couldn't take
it anymore!

Desperate, Harry threw himself down on his bed, stuffed his face in his pillow and screamed as
hard and as long he could.

Harry didn't know how long he screamed. No sound escaped him, but his throat was still sore
when he stopped screaming at last. Not only did it only symbolize the unfairness of it all, but
also predicted that he wouldn't have much voice to talk with the next day.

Harry closed his eyes to rest and finally dozed off, dreaming that he got to curse the Dark Lord
and all the Death Eaters in existence over and over, with every dark curse he knew for making life
so difficult for him.

-->



41. Pushing the Limit
---------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Special thanks to Anna Rose for correcting (again, if you haven't checked out her stories
yet, you should: www.fanfiction.net/u/919847/ )
And also a special thanks to Estarc who reviewed every single chapter of this story in less than 24
hours. I've never gotten that many reviews at once before!

Ch41: **PUSHING THE LIMIT**

Oh I am what I am
I do what I want
But I can't hide

**(Here With Me** by **Dido)**

*”Harry?”*

*Harry lowered his wand. “Hermione?”*

*“Yeah…” she was panting. “Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, but when you
just-“*

*“It's okay,” Harry quickly reassured her. “How did you find me?”*

*“I used a Tracking charm…” Hermione said as she stepped closer to him. Her hand reached out
for his. Harry suddenly felt nervous and a chill went down his spine.*

*“Harry…” she said. “What happened?”*

-

*Hermione frowned slightly, as though she sensed he wasn't really sorry at all that she
wasn't dating Ron. “Harry,” she said, “I want you to know that you can tell me
anything.”*

*Harry was surprised. “I know. I haven't told the Prophecy to anyone but you.”*

*She took his other hand and squeezed it gently.*

-

*Hermione hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded. “Alright, but then you have to promise
me something: if Voldemort ever gets me, kills me or hurts me in any way … promise me that you
won't blame yourself and do something stupid.”*

-

It was remembering those words that made Harry wake up. He instantly knew he had been dreaming
memories again, not merely making up some fantasy. He had been doing that quite a lot lately after
taking Snape's potion. Harry didn't mind this usually, except when he was reliving
something that had been particularly horrible to him in the past. Then he couldn't tell himself
it had all just been a dream, because it had really happened.
Although it hurt to be reminded of happier days with Hermione, it was also a weird kind of comfort.
While he was dreaming about her, he could forget the reality for some time. He could even pretend
that nothing had happened to her.

Harry turned over in his bed, knowing he would not get any more sleep that night. The memories
had felt too real, like he was experiencing them all over again. Waking up to the present was like
having someone kick him roughly in the stomach.

Harry clenched his fists and opened them again a few times. He wanted to go back to sleep again
so he could be with Hermione. Dreaming was much more tempting than the dull reality he was living
in. However, Harry couldn't help but recall what Dumbledore had said in his first year: *It
does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that.*

All right, so he wasn't going to waste his life dreaming about something that was all in the
past, but he highly doubted he could ever enjoy his life the way it was now. Something inside him
ached now more than ever for it all to simply *end,* so he didn't have to feel so much
pain all the time.

It was always one thing after the other. He could remember (again thanks to Snape) his first and
only year with his parents, and that year had been pretty happy - despite the evil and the
insecurities lying in the shadows. It had all gone downhill from there. The years with the Dursleys
had all been bad, and Hogwarts had therefore seemed like a heaven to him at first. A place where he
could be free to be himself, somewhere fun and somewhere he could start a new and better life. Had
he really been happy at Hogwarts, though? Every year had been filled with threats, difficult tasks,
unstable teachers or monsters, and when Harry thought about it he realized he had used the entire
time worrying or solving a mystery.

He could only remember being truly happy a few times in his life. He was always happy being at
the Burrow with the Weasleys, pretending he was a part of their family, and he enjoyed winning
Quidditch and riding a broomstick. The half hour where he thought he didn't have to go back to
the Dursleys ever again and live with Sirius, and spending time with Hermione were just the joyous
occasions he could ever remember being happy.

Was all the pain, all the worrying and all the suffering really worth it?

Harry didn't know. But he did know he didn't have much to lose.

-

“Come on, Harry, time to get up.” Ron shook Harry's shoulder.

Harry opened his mouth to say he was not sleeping, but the silencing charm he had put on himself
still worked and no sound came out. Sighing inwardly, Harry sat up and swung his feet down to the
floor. Ron went to wash his face, and Harry used the opportunity to cancel the silencing spell. He
had some training from the Death Eaters how to use spells silently, and the spell had weakened over
time anyway so it wasn't much of a problem. His throat felt sore and dry, though.

Harry changed his clothes while massaging his neck, not really wanting to start a new day. “Your
turn,” said Ron when he came back from the bathroom. Harry nodded, went in and closed the bathroom
door behind him. Harry allowed himself some time to simply look at himself in the mirror and study
the dark mark a bit for any signs of activating.

There were no signs, but Harry hadn't really expected there to be any. He had been awake
most of the night, too restless to sleep, and in all those hours he hadn't felt anything in the
mark.

Harry looked back up into the mirror. He had to admit his reflection in the mirror looked awful.
His hair was messier than usual, his face was almost as pale as the Dark Lord's, his lips were
void of any colour and his eyes were a dull and lifeless dark green. How quickly everything a
person knew could change.

Ron knocked on the door. “Coming?”

“Er, no,” replied Harry, with a voice so hoarse that it was barely a voice at all. “You go
ahead. I'm not particularly hungry.”

Ron made a sound of disbelief, but after a few moments he gave it up as a lost cause and went
away. The other Gryffindor boys had gone to breakfast a long time ago.

-

Harry skipped classes that day. The thought of dealing with Snape for two whole hours in potions
and McClaggan in defense was not particularly tempting. Instead he sat down and tried to write a
letter to Annie. He really missed her, and he longed for the sense of normalness he felt at her
house. He missed her cool attitude. It was weird for Harry to admit, that in spite of the short
time he had spent with her she had managed to become one of his best friends.

Had it not been for Hermione and what he had to do to save her he would return to Annie
immediately like he in the ink and hovered over some parchment. He tried to decide how to start the
letter. Hi Annie? Dearest Annie, or just Annie? Harry frowned, it was hard to concentrate. He
decided to write the headline later and rather start on the letter.

This proved to be even more difficult. Harry's thoughts were such a mess he couldn't
think of anything clever to write that would make sense to Annie, and his hands were still shaking
rather badly so his handwriting was pretty hard to interpret.

*It shouldn't be this difficult, it's just a letter,* Harry told himself, before
giving up on the letter. He could write it later.

Harry collected Akin from his dorm and took him up to the owl tower to visit Hedwig. He had to
wear Akin around his neck, however, because the little thing complained that Harry's wrist was
shaking so much it was hard to stay on. Combining Hedwig and Akin soon proved to be a problem as
well though, as both pets considered the other as a threat. Harry decided to leave, and went
somewhere he knew he could be alone - the Astronomy tower.

Harry breathed in the fresh air and tried to force himself to relax, all the while trying to get
rid of the dark hole inside of him that grew bigger and bigger for each day. He walked over to one
of the windows and looked out at the morning sky. It really was a beautiful view that he should
have enjoyed, but all Harry could think about was how far down the ground was.

*“Maybe I should just jump off the tower,”* suggested Harry half-heartedly in Parseltongue,
his voice shaking slightly. He knew he would do no such thing, but he couldn't help
entertaining the thought. Akin tightened his hold around Harry's neck in agitation. Strangely,
the weight of Akin around his neck was more comforting than the view and the fresh air.

*“No! I need someone to take care of me, and feed me! Others of your kind are scary!”*

Harry remembered what Ron had said about Seamus and Dean joking about accidentally killing Akin.
*“They won't do anything to you,”* he promised. *“I won't allow it.”*

Akin seemed unsure. *“I don't like them; they wish me harm. You're not always there to
watch over me. You're back now, but you were gone for an awful long time.”*

*“I didn't have much choice,”* said Harry, and he told Akin all about the Death Eaters
and the Dark Lord, and how they had used the Cruciatus curse so much Harry forgot all his memories
and got confused enough to become a Death Eater. Then he told Akin about how he had felt
uncomfortable killing someone at first, but how he had suppressed it enough for it to be second
nature for him. He told how much he regretted killing all of the innocent people, especially the
pregnant woman, and being partly responsible for Percy's death. Harry's stomach twisted to
a very uncomfortable knot remembering that; what would Ron say if he ever found out about it? Ron
may not have liked Percy, but the Weasleys were extremely loyal to their family.

Harry was very grateful that only he and the Dark Lord knew Parseltongue. Akin was the perfect
listener that way; he couldn't tell anyone even if he wanted to.

Harry didn't begin to cry, but he did feel something break inside him as desperation took a
new death grip on him with its cold hand. If only there was a way for him to contact the Dark Lord,
then -

Wait. Hadn't he tried just that once at Grimmauld Place and partly succeeded?

Harry felt his eyes widen as his heart did a great jump. Of course!

*“Akin!”* he cried in excitement. *“I know! I know how I can talk to my Lord!”*

*“I thought he wasn't really your Lord?”* remarked Akin dryly.

*“Never mind that!”* Harry was too excited to care. *“I can tell him I'm ready to
come back!”*

*“But then you'll have to leave me again!”* hissed Akin*. “I don't want you to
go. Not again.”*

Harry shifted guiltily. *“I'm really sorry, but I have to do this. I can't live
without -”* There was no word for Hermione.

*“Your mate?”* suggested Akin.

*“Yes, her,”* said Harry. *“She'll take care of you if ... if I don't come
back.”*

Harry untangled Akin from his neck and put him gently down on the ground a little out of the
way. He knew this would be extremely risky. The last time he had tried had been a fiasco - as soon
as the Dark Lord knew what was going on he had made Harry Apparate. Had it not been for the fact
that Harry had been in Grimmauld Place at the time with Apparition wards, he would've been
caught by the Dark Lord much earlier.

*“I don't have much to lose anyway,”* muttered Harry quietly as he prepared himself for
what he had to do. In fact, he was quite proud of himself for thinking of it in the first place. He
didn't feel particularly scared either, just a calm acceptance of what he had to do.

He remembered what Hermione had said the last time he had tried to contact Voldemort:
*"You* can't *mess with Voldemort like that! No one knows what he could
do!"* She was right of course, but he was doing this for her this time, not just to save a
random person he didn't know.

Harry closed his eyes and calmed himself again the best he could. He sought for the connection
he shared with the Dark Lord in his mind, focusing only on finding the same sensation as he had
last time, the feeling of being close to the Lord without actually being near him physically. He
had done it before, so he could do it again.

He tried thinking of what the Dark Lord could be doing at the moment and how he felt.
*Willing* himself to find out, he suddenly felt his mind doing some kind of shift, like a part
of himself was transported somehow, and he could not feel himself sitting on the top of the
Astronomy tower any longer. He was standing, with his left hand resting on a smooth surface. Harry
couldn't see anything, and even though he badly wanted to see if Hermione was in the room with
him, he couldn't take the chance of history repeating itself. Last time, the Dark Lord had only
realised Harry was there when Harry forced his eyes to see what the Dark Lord saw.

*Master?* Harry whispered inside his mind. He forced down the bad taste he got in his mouth
when he addressed the Lord as his own. He had to be respectful, or else he wouldn't achieve
anything.

Harry felt the Dark Lord's body tense, and a second later he felt the awareness of another
mind seeking out for his. Harry retreated slightly so he wouldn't get too close to the other
mind, but he was tired already. He had to do this quick.

*Master?* He tried again.

*Ah, Harry,* Harry heard the Dark Lord say. *I wondered when you would try to seek
me.*

*I have been waiting for you to call me, my Lord,* said Harry.

*Have you now?* The voice was dripping with sarcasm.

*I have!* Harry hurried to explain. *But I was confused. My memories started to come back
and then Bella told me about that potion you were making, and what it would do...* this was a
lie: Harry didn't think it would be a good idea to tell the Lord he had been eavesdropping.

*She told you?* pressed the Dark Lord dangerously.

*Well, yes,* Harry replied, doing his best to sound sincere.

*You lie! Do you honestly think I cannot sense it when you do? You have always been bad in
hiding your feelings, boy! You only want to come back so you can save your precious
Mudblood.*

Harry didn't know what to say. This wasn't going the way he had hoped, and he was so
incredibly tired already from staying in control of his own mind... *Look, I will come back if
you activate the mark, my Lord. If you do not want me to, then there is nothing I can do about
it.*

*Always the Gryffindor ... tell me, killed something lately?*

Harry thought of all the birds he had played with while he had been staying with Annie and said
nothing.

*You have,* remarked the Dark Lord with amusement. *We have a lot in common, you and I.
You are not the only one who has killed someone lately...*

Harry felt himself go cold. *You have not killed Hermione, have you?*

*Now, now, where would be the fun in that?*

*I swear, if you hurt her -!*

*You would do what? You better remember where you belong, boy. You are marked as a Death
Eater, and that means you will be one for the rest of your life. You will always think like one,
and you will always act like one.*

*I'm not like that! I was marked against my will!* protested Harry, even though he knew
it was pointless. Somewhere deep inside, no matter how much he loathed to admit it, the Dark Lord
did have a point. Harry still felt as though a part of him belonged with the Death Eaters.

Harry felt a wave of irritation from the Dark Lord that Harry recognized was not from what he
had said, but from *how* he had said it. Harry thought back to what he had said for a moment
and hurried to correct himself. *I* am *not.*

The Lord had always made a point of sounding like an adult.

*Denial is a dangerous thing,* warned the Dark Lord. *You know very well you were not
marked against your will. I recall you were quite eager, in fact. You have always had a darker side
in you, Harry, it was bound to come out sooner or later. The sooner you realise where you truly
belong, the better it will be for both of us, not to mention your Mudblood friend. Although, I am
curious of why you did not try to rescue her in the first place ... no matter. I will consider
summoning you.*

*Thank you, my Lord,* said Harry breathlessly, surprising himself. Why was it so easy to
still call the Dark Lord for *his* Lord? It really shouldn't be.

Harry found he could no longer hold the connection with the Lord. Without warning, his head
exploded in pain and his scar cracked open. A wave of dizziness forced him back to the Astronomy
tower. He swayed in his sitting position for a moment, his eyes rolling up in his head, before he
promptly passed out.

-

Harry came back to consciousness when he felt himself being lifted from the ground.

“Lemme `lone,” he mumbled, trying to fight the invisible force holding him up with his arms and
feet, but as no one was actually holding him he didn't have anyone to fight against.

Harry opened his eyes and saw the person who had found him was none other than McClaggan. The
Defense teacher had his wand pointed at Harry, concentrating in holding a hover charm. Harry let
his head fall back in defeat. *Just great.*

“We have been looking high and low for you, Mister Potter,” said McClaggan gruffly. “We almost
suspected you had been taken again or something worse. You did not come to classes today.”

“I know,” said Harry dryly. He refused to apologize. Trying to find a way to reach Hermione was
much more important than classes so he didn't feel ashamed in the least.

“We didn't see you at breakfast either,” continued McClaggan, frowning thoughtfully. “When
was the last time that you ate something?”

Harry struggled to remember. “Yesterday morning, I think.”

The Defense teacher made a disapproving sound. “No wonder you haven't been feeling too well!
A growing boy like you needs nutrition!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Harry grunted, wanting to make a comment about the teacher not being his
father. Instead, he said, still with a rather raspy voice: “Put me down already!”

“Sorry kiddo, not yet. I have a hard time believing you were merely sleeping up there.
You're going to Poppy, you are.”

Harry groaned. If he went back there, the nurse would never let him go! “Really, I *am*
fine,” he said as convincing as he could. “I just tried this new form for Occlumency and I overdid
it. Dumbledore will know what I am talking about.”

“Will he? He approves of this?”

“Yes. Well, he wants me to do it with supervision. I forgot about that until now, it is a while
since the last time we practiced.” Again Harry lied with just as much truth to make it believable.
He was getting quite good at it.

“I see,” was all McClaggan said, and they were quiet for several minutes while McClaggan guided
Harry down the stairs from the tower with the hovering charm.

Harry sincerely hoped no one saw him like this. They'd believe he was a rotten child who had
misbehaved or something. Not seeing a reason to let himself be embarrassed by something like that,
he took out the Dark Lord's wand to cancel the spell.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” McClaggan commented. “It'll hurt to fall down these
stairs. And believe me, if you cancel the spell, you will fall.”

Harry scowled, before remembering that Akin was still up in the tower. “Oh wait, I forgot my
snake! We have to go up again.”

McClaggan groaned. “No way!” Harry got a strange urge to laugh. Now who was the one acting like
a child?

“I can wait here,” suggested Harry, his eyes dancing with unconcealed amusement.

McClaggan looked over him critically. “Probably a good idea. I'll just freeze you so you
can't go anywhere -”

“What will I do if someone comes by and try to hurt me then? I will be completely defenseless
and it will be all your fault.”

This caught the professor off guard and he seemed to be at loss for what to do. “Er, right. Do I
have your word that you *will not* go anywhere?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why would I do that? I want my snake back. That is the whole point.”

McClaggan's jaw tightened in irritation before he turned on his heel and walked back up to
the tower with quick, angry steps that echoed back to Harry, who was now sitting on one of the
steps.

Harry couldn't help but grin evilly in triumph, and he had to cover his mouth with his hands
to stop the snickering that suddenly escaped him. He hoped the teacher felt really, really
stupid.

McClaggan returned shortly after with Akin carefully between his hands. Harry rose and quickly
put the little snake around his neck. Then he glared at McClaggan.

“Shall we go then? I do not know about you, but I certainly do not have the entire day to
waste.”

McClaggan's lips were just as thin as McGonagall's usually were when he mumbled
something that sounded very much like: “You could say thank you.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Oh yes. *Thank you* for flying me down here against my will like
a silly doll and forgetting about my snake. Thank you *so much.* You are very generous.”

“Why do you talk like that?” asked McClaggan sharply.

Harry instantly threw up the best Occlumency shield he could manage. “Talk like what,
exactly?”

“Like a younger version of Professor Snape,” McClaggan explained. “Like just now you said `you
are' instead of `you're' like a normal teenager would. And you even say ` I do not
know' instead of `I don't know.' How come? Isn't that to, er, exaggerate a
little?”

Harry stared. As a Death Eater, he was expected to be proper in order to create more respect and
even fear. He still wanted that kind of respect, but was it really a good idea to talk like that if
it connected him to another Death Eater? Now it was Harry's turn to feel stupid and he got
annoyed again. Of course it wasn't worth it.

“Why do you care?” asked Harry grumpily. McClaggan ignored that comment.

“You're extremely rude too. I realize you've had an extremely hard time the last few
months, but it doesn't give you an excuse to act like a spoiled brat.”

“*I do not act like a spoiled brat!”* Harry hissed, seeing angrily red spots dance before
his eyes. He forced himself to put away his wand to keep himself away from using the Dark Arts. “Of
all the spoiled kids in this school, I am not one of them!” he continued angrily, “in case you
forgot, my parents are DEAD and the family members I still have DO NOT CARE ABOUT ME AT ALL! I have
been on my own for my entire life and I have fought for the lives of my friends and my own more
times than I can count, not to mention I HAVE THE FREAKING RESPONSIBILITY TO RID THIS WORLD OF THE
DARKNESS YOU LIKE TO CALL DEATH EATERS - *AND YOU HAVE THE GUTS TO CALL ME SPOILED?”*

“I didn't say you *were* a spoiled brat, just that you act like one,” the Defense
professor lamely tried to defend himself, more than a little surprised by Harry's outburst.

“You know what?” Harry barked, forcing his sore voice to shout some more. “I DON'T CARE! I
AM SICK AND TIRED OF BEING JUDGED BY EVERY LITTLE THING I DO! No one has the right to judge me,
they don't know what I've been through! SO WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?”

McClaggan clearly struggled to keep his calm. “You obviously don't need to visit Madam
Pomfrey. You look healthy enough to me. But you will see Professor Dumbledore young man!”

“FINE! I can find the way myself, thanks!” Harry gave the professor the ugliest glare he could
manage.

“FINE! Have it your way then! No sane person would want your company when you're like that
anyway. However, I will talk to Professor Dumbledore later, and if I hear that you have not been to
see him I will give you so many detentions you won't see daylight until summer.”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Harry, giving the Defense teacher one last glare before strutting quickly
away in the direction of Dumbledore's office. “Like I would come anyway,” he mumbled under his
breath, just as the school bell rang and small students began to scatter out of different doors,
too busy to get out of the classroom to put their school stuff properly into their bags.

They must have Potions next, thought Harry to himself. He almost felt sorry for them.

-->



42. A Different View
--------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Ch42: **A DIFFERENT VIEW**

I'm standing still

I'm oh, so peaceful

I can't pretend that I'm fine

I get so ill, crazy, agitated

When I've not really died

I can't do this, I can't do this

I can't do this by myself

I can't do this, I can't do this

Oh God, I need Your help

(**I Can't Do This** by **Plumb**)

Harry was still angry, but after a few minutes he began to calm down a little. He knew he had
overreacted and he knew McClaggan *probably* didn't deserve all those rude comments, but
it had felt so good to give into his anger and frustration for a moment. Not using any Dark Arts
really took its toll on him. His body and mind ached more and more each day to use the Dark Arts
that it was so hard not to use them at times. It was so close to the surface, so close to suck him
into an eternal abyss of darkness and violence...

*Do what is right, not what is easy,* Harry reminded himself stubbornly, clenching his
fists. *Do what is right, not what -*

A little kid from Ravenclaw ran straight into Harry from behind and knocked out both his breath
and train of thought.

“Hey, watch where you are going!” barked Harry to the annoying little girl, glaring at her. The
Ravenclaw's eyes widened and filled with tears before she began to run away in the opposite
direction, absolutely scared out of her wits. “Hey!” Harry called after her, “don't be like
that, I didn't mean to scare you!” She was out of earshot already, however.

*Wonderfu**l*, he thought*.*

Shaking his head in irritation, Harry continued his chant. “Do what is right -” *Honestly,
couldn't the first years* *EVER* *watch where they were going*? *They had eyes
like everyone else for a reason.* *What is right ... what was right anyway? Oh right. Not
being a* *D**ark wizard was right.* “Not what is easy -”

Again, Harry felt someone run into him from behind. Determined to be nicer this time, Harry
forced himself to breathe slowly and he merely closed his eyes in irritation for a moment before
continuing his stride, not looking back to see who it was.

Until someone, most likely the same person, shoved him roughly between his shoulders.

Harry lost the last shreds of patience he had left.

“Can you *please* pay attention to *-”* Harry began, but halted when he saw the person
who ran into him twice was none other than Draco Malfoy. Harry narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin
dangerously. “You!”

Draco smirked and mocked viciously. “Do what's right, not what's easy, nah, nah,
nah.”

Harry felt an angry flush creep up his chin. “Why do I have the feeling that it is not a
coincidence that you are here?”

Receiving no answer, Harry scowled, turned away and started to walk in the direction he was
originally headed. The Slytherin just smirked and followed side by side.

Draco sneered. “There's a reason they managed to get you, you know. It doesn't matter
that I warned you, you still are the same weak and pathetic Potter as you've always been.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” said Harry, not breaking his stride. He could almost hear Hermione whisper to
him: *Don't listen to him, he's not worth it ...* To a certain extent, that helped him
to keep his anger in check, and as long as he could do that he could stop himself from using any
Dark magic.

“What? Are you e*mbarrassed,* Potter? You know I'm right. And I know you're scared.
Not much of a Gryffindor after all, are you?”

Harry rolled his eyes and kept walking. *Ignore it...* He was tempted to reveal that the
sorting hat had almost placed him in Slytherin, however.

“My father told me all sorts of things he did to you when you were held captive, and how you
cried like a baby. I bet he'll do lots of the same things to your Mudblood girlfriend.”

Harry quickened his pace. He knew he shouldn't let Malfoy's words bother him, but it
became increasingly difficult to ignore. Pity he had to walk almost all across Hogwarts to reach
his destination. Draco struggled to catch up on Harry's quick and long steps.

“Doesn't it bother you that she's a girl? I mean, I know she's a Mudblood and all,
but I bet there're a few Death Eaters who're desperate enough to even go for someone like
her. I know my father wouldn't sink that low, but I know of at least three or four who--”

Harry whirled around, furious. “*Sod off,* Malfoy! Don't you have anything better to
do?”

Draco smirked and pretended to look around. “No.”

Harry's body was itching to use some Dark Arts so badly it actually *stung* him on the
inside*.* The Dark Lord's wand in his pocket seemed to radiate irresistible warmth. Harry
realized that the chance of him making it all the way to Dumbledore's office without exploding
was very slim.

“Not so tough now, are you? Did the Death Eaters break the Golden Boy? Did they scare you? Well,
guess what, they're probably going to break *Granger* too, especially when they take away
her clothes and-“

This was all Harry could take. With a furious growl he grabbed Draco's arm roughly and threw
the Slytherin into an empty classroom. Draco stumbled to the floor, but before he could get up on
his feet Harry had leapt over to where he was, and Draco was kicked harshly in the gut. “SHUT UP!
Just shut up!” Harry screamed, making his throat dry. Then he withdrew his wand from his pocket and
pointed it menacingly at Draco. “You don't know *anything!* ANYTHING!”

Draco gasped for breath, but he still wore that damned smirk on his face “Oh yeah? I know all
about you and I also know you have picked the losing side in this war!”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Oh, have I now? Who has said I am on anyone's side but my
own?”

Draco's expression suddenly became abnormally guarded. “What do you mean?”

Harry threw his head back and laughed a dry and slightly hysterical laugh oddly similar to
Bellatrix Lestrange's. When he finally got his laughter under control he bent down so he was at
the same eye level as Draco. “What I mean,” he whispered dangerously and very slowly, “is that I am
on my side and my side only. I do not have any qualms for hurting someone anymore, especially those
I do not like. You better remember that before you test my patience further.”

Draco rose to his feet, looking shaken. “You know, if I didn't know better I'd say the
Dark Lord didn't break you after all, he *made* you! Something about you has changed and I
intend to find out what it is.”

Harry's breath hitched in his throat and he straightened up. He suddenly realized that he
had talked like a Death Eater would, and Draco had noticed. Without meaning to, Harry's eyes
flickered to his left forearm. It was only for a second, but the Slytherin noticed.

“Wait a minute!” murmured Malfoy, reaching for Harry's arm with wide eyes. Harry threw his
arm back and out of his reach. Harry's heart raced madly in his chest. He had to get out of the
room!

Draco Malfoy didn't try to follow him this time. Harry raced up to Moaning Myrtle's
bathroom instead of going straight to the Headmaster's office like he had promised to. He
needed to be alone. He needed time to calm down.

He locked himself inside a stall and sat down on the toilet inside, not caring to check where
the girl ghost was. He took a deep breath and put his head in his hands, rocking a bit back and
forth as he struggled to calm himself.

He couldn't believe how stupid he had been. It was a weak comfort to know he hadn't used
any curses. He shouldn't have let Draco's mocking affect him that much. Now the Slytherin
knew Harry wasn't as light as he appeared to be.

Harry gritted his teeth and tried to tell himself that no one would believe Draco if he began to
tell people that The - Boy - Who - Lived had the Dark Mark, but it didn't help much. Snape
already suspected, and *he* would listen to Malfoy. The Slytherin ferret knew too much and he
needed to be silenced.

-

“You wanted to see me, Headmaster?” inquired Harry, somewhat nervously a half an hour later. It
didn't help that Snape was lurking in the shadows of Dumbledore's office either. Harry
forced himself not to bite his lip - it wouldn't do any good to show that he was nervous. He
hadn't done anything wrong that they could nail him for, had he? He had managed not to use any
Dark Arts since he arrived at Hogwarts, so unless Snape had talked to Draco already *and* had
voiced his suspicions to Dumbledore, everything should be fine right? Harry's stomach suddenly
did a bad flip. What if they had bad news about Hermione?

Thinking about Hermione made Harry even more nervous, but he reminded himself that he had just
talked to the Dark Lord. He didn't know her physical shape, but at least she should be
alive.

“I did indeed,” said Dumbledore, stroking his beard and looking at him over his glasses. “I
believe you remember everything now?”

Harry nodded stiffly, his throat dry.

“Excellent. The potion worked then. Remarkable work as always, Severus.” Dumbledore's eyes
twinkled as he looked over at the Potions Master, who gave him a look which said *`did you expect
anything less?'* Dumbledore turned his attention to Harry again. “I am sincerely sorry you
had to go through it all again. It was necessary, however. This way we can finally find the last
pieces to the puzzle.” The older wizard waited a moment before he continued, like he was unsure of
how to proceed. Harry put his hands in his lap so no one would see how much they were shaking. The
withdrawal affects just got worse and worse...

“Perhaps you should start with the beginning,” suggested Dumbledore. “Of how you got caught to
what happened when you got there...”

Harry did tell, but not everything. He avoided telling that he had been marked, being looked
upon as the Heir of the Dark Lord, and he avoided telling them about killing those innocent people.
Most importantly it was because he didn't want to plead guilty in more than he had to, but it
was also because it was very hard to talk about. However, he did tell that the Death Eaters first
used him to practice the Dark Arts themselves, but then started to teach him what they knew. Then
he started explaining what he knew about the potions he had to take. Snape and Dumbledore both
paled dramatically when they heard that Harry had taken two doses already, and Harry realized that
the two older wizards already knew about what kind of potion he was talking about.

A serious silence followed, before the raid on Diagon Alley was brought up. Harry knew he could
not avoid telling them about that one, because he had been spotted and identified there.

“You were most likely Confounded,” said Dumbledore suddenly, turning to Snape to see if the
Potions Master agreed. Snape just shrugged.

Harry licked his lips nervously and said nothing. Didn't they know that he had killed
several people, among them Dolores Umbridge? Umbridge was personal, they should know that. He was
also partly responsible for Percy's death, and that had happened in public with a lot of
Aurors.

Dumbledore got up from his chair behind the desk and picked up the Pensieve. He put it down in
front of Harry, and picked up a bottle with silvery mist inside it.

“This is a memory from one of the shop owners that day. We first thought you were under the
Imperius Curse, but Miss Granger told us you can throw that off. There are other ways to confuse a
person and make one do things against his or her will, however. The Confundus Charm is one of them,
but what you said about this potion is most curious indeed ... perhaps the potion *combined*
with the Imperius curse was what did the trick...”

Harry plunged head first into the pensive, Dumbledore appearing next to him. Harry recognized
the scene immediately; the Aurors would arrive in a minute and Dolohov had just told him to hold
Percy under control as a hostage with his wand. This caused Harry to feel uneasy, watching himself
with some interest and increasing fear.

*“Come on, kill him!”* ordered Dolohov's voice, echoing all around them. Dumbledore saw
the real Harry gasp as he heard; the old instincts begging him to comply.

*“Harry, no! It's me, Percy!**”*

Harry saw the misty version of himself hesitate and Percy made a new, desperate attempt to win
him over. *“Harry, please! I'm sorry for writing that letter to Ron! I didn't mean it,
well, I meant it, but not anymore, I promise!”*

Harry didn't dare to look at Dumbledore who was standing next to him as the version of
himself made a confused sound. It *did* look as though he was fighting some kind of Imperius
Curse, but Harry remembered the real reason for why he was hesitating back then ... he hadn't
understood how Percy could know his name and talk like he knew him.

*“KILL HIM!”* barked Dolohov, bringing Harry's attention back to what was going on in
front of him.

The Aurors had arrived and Dolohov had grabbed Harry's collar. Harry frowned as he closed
his eyes and opened them again, making sure he imagined what he saw. He had wondered, back then,
why Dolohov had grabbed him like that, but it couldn't be more obvious now: The older wizard
had used *him* as a hostage! Harry felt as though his ground had been knocked from beneath
him. They hadn't trusted him once, not even there. They would rather kill him than let the
Aurors get their hands on him. Had they thought he would give away their secrets just like that? He
had been a proud Death Eater, and he wouldn't even have considered escaping had it not been for
the fact that he overheard his Lord and Bella discuss the potion!

*“When I say now,”* said Dolohov, but not loudly, *“run towards* *Kn**ockturn
Alley. Do you understand?”*

*“Yes,”* Harry heard himself answer, but Harry could see how he had swayed where he stood,
so that Dolohov had to steady him as well as cast the Imperius Curse on Percy. Harry glanced at
Dumbledore. Surely the old man wouldn't force him to see Ron's brother die all over
again?

Luckily, that was not necessary. Dumbledore merely nodded and grabbed Harry's arm, telling
him it was time to go. Once more, they were both in the Headmaster's office. They all sat down
in their chairs again, even Snape, who smirked back at Harry.

Harry looked slightly ashamed of what they had just seen, but strangely, neither Dumbledore nor
Snape made any comment that indicated they blamed him. Harry looked down at his feet, trying to
find something to say. Suddenly, a hot soaring pain shot through Harry's left arm, and he
jerked in his seat just as Snape did the same.

The Dark Mark! Harry's heart soared in his chest, but it was quickly drowned by another
piercing pain from the mark. Through watering eyes, Harry saw Snape cover his left forehand with
his right arm, and he struggled not to do the same. It hurt so badly!

Dumbledore looked at them both curiously over his glasses, and Harry felt faint from pain and
worry that the cat was out or the bag for good this time.

Snape just confirmed the question in Dumbledore's eyes on whether it was the Dark Lord or
not with a short nod. Then both looked at Harry. Dumbledore leaned across his desk, watching Harry
closely.

“Is it your scar, my boy?”

Harry nodded quickly, although he did hear the question underneath those words: *Or is it
something else?* He didn't trust his voice enough to speak. It took a lot of effort to not
give away that it was his mark that hurt, not the scar, and he kept his hands completely still with
difficulty so he wouldn't give it away. However, a new urgency had risen within him: he had to
get out of the castle so he could be transported to Stone Edge before it was too late. He knew the
Dark Lord wouldn't wait long, and if he saw that Harry didn't come after all Merlin knew
what would happen to Hermione. He had to go right away.

“Erm, I have to go,” he mumbled and rose from his seat, his words and knees shaky with adrenalin
and pain.

Dumbledore looked alarmed. “I do not believe that is a good idea, Harry. It is better if you
stay here in my office.”

“No!” said Harry, a little too quickly, walking backwards towards the door. “There is something
I need to take care of. It cannot wait!”

The Headmaster stood also and started to move towards Harry. “Surely it can. Whatever it is, it
can wait. There are more important matters we need to discuss--”

“No, it has to be done now!” interrupted Harry, getting desperate. “I will be quick, honestly!”
He was almost by the door now; if he just stretched his arm behind him he should surely be able to
reach the handle...

To Harry's great surprise Dumbledore pulled out his wand. It was not a threatening move, but
Harry recognized the warning behind it. Harry itched after his own wand, which was in his pocket.
He took one more step back towards the door, but crashed against something soft.

Snape!

Harry realized he was trapped, and the panic wrapped around his mind like a blanket. He
couldn't screw this up; Hermione's life was at risk!

“No!” he cried, making a sharp turn under Snape's outstretched arm and bolting for the door.
Surprisingly Dumbledore didn't fire after him, but Harry supposed the Headmaster didn't
want to violate his trust. Harry took the flight of stairs in only a couple of leaps, almost
crashed into the gargoyle and sped down the hall. His feet felt so light it barely felt as though
his feet connected with the stone floor at all. A few words repeated themselves in his mind like a
broken record: *Please don't let it be too late, please don't let it be too late!*

And he ran even faster. He barely noticed passing McGonagall, or that she asked him where he was
going. He was nearly there when -

*“Stop right there, Potter! Where do you think you're going?”*

Harry narrowed his eyes at the Defense professor as he ran, but he was not slowing down.
McClaggan had his wand out, ready for use. Harry's mind was racing of possible ways to solve
the situation, but it was difficult to make a decision.

“I said STOP!” shouted McClaggan in great despair.

As Harry got closer, it was suddenly clear to him what he had to do. He reached his professor a
second later, letting an angry growl leave his mouth, just like a wild animal. The spell McClaggan
had started to say died in his mouth as Harry shoved him roughly to the side, and the
professor's head hit the stone wall with a sick sound. Harry looked back at him, seeing what he
had done and how he had caused pain so easily. It hadn't been with a spell, but for some reason
it still felt good. Harry shook his head, pushing his thoughts at the back of his head and jerked
the heavy entrance door open and ran out to the school ground, heading towards Hogsmade. The Dark
Mark still stung, but not as much. He still had a chance of making it.

*Please don't let it be too late...*

It was strange, being so terrified of not making it because of Hermione, and yet at the same
time being terrified of actually making it because it would surely mean the end of him as a free
person. The end of Harry Potter, the wizarding world's saviour.

“Time to do what is right,” Harry breathed between his long steps. His whole body ached from the
effort of running so fast, sweat running down his forehead, but he refused to acknowledge it. Rest
was something he could do later.

Harry met no else who stood in his way, and he suddenly stopped as he reached the Apparation
point. Surely the Dark Mark could be activated from there?

Breathing hard, Harry ripped up his left sleeve so fast that he tore the fabric. He pressed his
fingers towards the skull of the Dark Mark. He could feel a slight tickling underneath his finger,
as though the Mark was unsure whether or not to transport him. Had he been too slow?

“Come on!” Harry hissed, unknowingly speaking in Parseltongue because of the snake tattoo, “Come
on, WORK!”

Nothing happened.

“Don't do this to me! COME ON!”

Then Harry felt the ground beneath his feet dissolve.

-

**Authors Note:** A new chapter ... should be a joke since it's April Fool's day
right - it's been so long! Surely you thought I were dead or something by now? However, I
promised you I wouldn't quit the story so I won't, even if I've lost many of you
readers by not being able to get it done sooner.

In the end I got some help by Annick, who helped me string the chapter together. I highly doubt
the chapter would be done yet had it not been for her. Then my beta Anna Rose did a wonderful job
correcting it. I owe them both!

10

-->



43. The Sacrifice Part One
--------------------------



**A/N:** It's been a while hasn't it...I'm not going to make excuses because all
in all it doesn't make that much of a difference to you.

I want you to know that if you see any mistakes then they're entirely mine as I don't
have a beta anymore. Feel free to shout them out if you see anything.

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

-

Ch43: **THE SACRIFICE**

**PART ONE**

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

**(The End by the Doors.)******

The first thing Harry thought when he landed on solid ground again was that the Stone Edge was
exactly as he remembered it: Dark, majestic, massive, looming and intimidating. The next thought
that came to his mind was that this might be the last time he ever Apparated. A sharp wisp of wind
went right through his thin sweater, and Harry crossed his arms in an attempt to not lose all his
warmth. It was futile, however. He could've had a huge winter coat and he would still be cold;
it was something about the place that chilled him to the bone.

He wasn't sure what to expect. Were they waiting for him? Did anyone aside from the Dark
Lord know he was coming, and had they prepared a trap for him?

Most likely, thought Harry darkly.

He broke into a run and let his feet carry him to the entrance. He was already late. Merlin knew
what they would do to Hermione if they thought he wouldn't show up. The thought of his
brilliant ex-girlfriend made his heart clench and his feet run faster, and soon he was inside the
building. The door closed behind him, shutting out almost all light. It was like a sign; a sign of
how his life would become. No freedom, only darkness.

Harry squinted to make out what was in the hall. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he had
not expected to see what he saw. Which was next to nothing: the hall was bare, completely stripped
for furniture and decoration except for the picture frames which hung alone and silent one after
one on the wall. All the portraits had left their pictures, so not even their breathing could be
heard. Harry tried to not let the silence freak him out. After a few hesitant steps, he shook his
shoulders, forced his chin up and began to walk quickly further into the castle. The sound of his
quick, trotting footsteps echoed back to him from the walls.

Harry knew exactly where to go: as the Dark Lord loved irony and playing games, it made sense to
Harry that the Death Eater meeting would be in the same room as Harry got his Dark Mark all those
months ago. So he decided to head that way, using all the shortcuts he knew. He refused to think of
what kind of danger that was waiting for him. It would only make him want to try to delay the
inevitable and that would do more harm than good ... all that mattered was Hermione. He just hoped
she would manage to find her way out of the building without him.

Harry realized he was almost at his destination and slowed down a bit. His body suddenly felt
very heavy. It was impossible for him to breathe properly, like something was pressing his chest
back towards his spine. He was gasping for air, yet it never seemed to fill his lungs
completely.

*Pull yourself together,* he told himself sternly, but he couldn't help it; he really
didn't want to go in that final room. He guessed it was selfish of him - especially since it
was his fault that Hermione had been captivated in the first place - but in his opinion he had a
damn good reason to be scared.

Harry had stopped outside the door to the room he was almost certain everyone would be in, and
for a few seconds he allowed himself to simply gaze at the heavy, dark wooden door, taking in all
the details and collecting his breath until it was finally steady again. His hand rose to touch the
doorknob, but then he thought better of it.

Better show he was a wizard to be reckoned with. If he was going to enter, he should do it with
style.

The door opened with a *bang,* making dust and splintered wood fly everywhere. Harry let
his wand arm holding the wand he still had from the Dark Lord fall to his side. He had put a bit
too much force into the spell than he intended.

Harry stepped in and the door closed automatically behind him. It was still whole enough to keep
him trapped in if the Dark Lord wanted him to be. Harry jumped in surprise from the sound of the
door clicking shut, but if someone saw him do that he didn't know. The room had gone completely
dark when the door had closed and no sound could be heard.

But it was another type of silence this time, one that was heavy and foreboding. Harry closed
his eyes for a moment to collect the last shreds of courage he had left in his body and thought one
single word inside his head: *Lumos.*

His wand ignited.

At first it was hard to see anything at all because the light from his wand contrasted so
sharply against the dark that it was blinding. However, as soon as his eyes had adjusted he could
make out dozens of white Death Eater masks in front of him by the wall on the other side of the
room. Harry wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed he had gotten it right on his first
try. He knew one thing though: This was it. The beginning of the end.

As soon as he thought that, all the torches in the room ignited at once. Had the situation been
less grave Harry would've rolled his eyes of how dramatic the Dark Lord tended to be.
Unfortunately, this time the effect had its desired result; namely in making Harry even more
nervous than he already was; something he hadn't thought possible.

Harry spotted the Dark Lord to his left. It was easy enough; although the room was about as big
as the Great Hall back in Hogwarts was everyone else were wearing their Death Eater masks. The
sight was so familiar to Harry that he couldn't help but feeling as though he still belonged
there. His head turned to his old Lord and instantly he dropped to his knee and bent his head and
upper body into a respectful bow. Harry cursed himself immediately afterwards. What had made him do
it he didn't know, but in spite of still wearing the Mark he was not a Death Eater anymore and
bowing to the Dark Lord was not the way to show it.

Harry rose to his feet and glared at the Dark Lord's snakelike face spitefully ... and was
instantly hit with the Cruciatus Curse.

The pain was absolute, but Harry had expected it so he bit his teeth together as hard that
nothing but a whimpering sound could come out. When the curse ended - after what seemed like twice
an eternity - Harry found himself on the cold floor, numb from head to toe curled as an infant. It
made him feel angry and humiliated, but he didn't have the energy to make a comeback that he
was lose anyway. He was suddenly overcome with a desire to give up and forget about everything. It
would be so nice to close his eyes and sleep for a while.

He just hoped Hermione didn't see him like this...

The thought of her made him look around. It took a while for his eyes to be able to focus, but
when they finally did all he could see was the Dark Lord and row after row with death eaters in
their robes and masks, observing him silently. *Where was she?*

Harry tried to form the words so he could ask, but the combination of his fuzzy head and the
sore jaw he had gotten from pressing his teeth together so hard made it too difficult to form any
words.

“Now, now, now, look who has decided to crawl back to his master. This brings back fond
memories, does it not?”

Harry curled his fingers and glared right up into the crimson eyes of the man who had marked
him. He wished he could find the courage to say something offensive.

The Dark Lord smirked. “Do you hate me, Harry? Oh, but your fear is greater. It keeps you from
doing anything you will regret. My, my, you are becoming less and less Gryffindor for every day,
even without my guidance...” The Lord held up a bit of his robe, so the hem got more visible. Harry
knew what that meant and dared not refuse, in fear of receiving more of the Cruciatus Curse. He
scrambled to his feet, but failed, and he was forced to crawl over to where the Dark Lord stood so
he could bring the hem to his lips and kiss it.

Amused chuckles went through the crowd and Harry could feel his face burn. He was such a coward.
The Dark Lord was right; he was nothing like a Gryffindor anymore.

“Give me my wand, boy,” ordered the Dark Lord, his voice more dangerous. He held out his hand
expectantly. Harry placed the ebony white wand in the palm of the Dark Lord's hand with shaking
fingers, and wondered briefly whether he would ever get his own wand back. He knew better than to
ask for it, however.

The Dark Lord spent a minute or so to play with his wand as though to get the feeling of it
again, and then he stroked the fine wood up and down lovingly. It was morbid and fascinating at the
same time for Harry to watch; it was impossible for him to take his eyes of the scene. Suddenly the
Dark Lord locked his crimson eyes with Harry's dark green.

“You remember everything now, I presume?”

Harry nodded stiffly and forced himself to speak up. “Yes.”

The older wizard waited.

“My Lord,” Harry added after only a moment of hesitation. If he hadn't, he would only get
Cruciated again and he wanted to save what was left of his strength.

“You must remember a lot of handy spells and good techniques then, do you not?” muttered the
Dark Lord. “After surviving all those years...”

Harry nodded again, wondering where this was headed.

“That should make you even more powerful than before then.” Harry could tell it wasn't a
question from the way the Lord said it. “Good. You will be an ever greater asset to me this
way.”

Harry looked away and his heart clenched harder in worry. Where *was* Hermione?!

The Dark Lord seemed to know what he was thinking and smirked. “Oh, yes, yes, yes. Cannot have
you come all the way down here without seeing your Mudblood girlfriend, can we?”

Harry gave him a worried glance. He didn't like the sound of that.

Voldemort snapped his fingers, and two Death Eaters Harry didn't recognize immediately
because they had their robes and masks on quickly darted through the only other door in the
room.

Then they waited in silence and the Dark Lord played some more with his old phoenix wand. He
seemed to enjoy the silence, but Harry couldn't stand it. It was driving him crazy. However,
when the door finally opened Harry couldn't be sure if ten minutes had passed or just ten
seconds.

Harry's eyes searched wildly for Hermione. He spotted her almost immediately, but gasped of
what he saw and *really* shouldn't see; her naked body.

Not even when they had been dating had he seen her completely devoid of clothing, and while she
looked beautiful even know as she probably was at her worst Harry saw two red humiliated spots on
her tear strained cheeks. Something in the back of Harry' mind snapped and with an animalistic
snarl and a growl he started towards her in a desperate attempt to reach her before they could do
her anymore harm. Her body should never be an object of the Death Eater's amusements! Suddenly
Harry lost his balance and he felt roughly to the stone floor, his arms shielding his face. His
feet had been glued together by a curse.

“Hermione!” he breathed, got up and tried to run again, but his feet wouldn't part and
without his wand he was helpless in reversing the curse. He didn't intend to let that stop him
however so he tried to crawl instead. All thoughts or worries about looking pathetic were gone now
as he saw what Hermione was going through.

Cackles of laughter echoed through the hall. Harry looked back up at Hermione desperately. He
wanted nothing more than to cover her up with his cloak or a big sweater - *anything* to save
her honour. Hell, he would've died on the spot if it meant that she would be safe in her bed
back at Hogwarts; with teachers and students watching over her.

She had seen him, he could tell, because her body had suddenly gone rigid and her anxious and
hurting dark eyes looked right at him. Then she broke his heart even more and tried to hide behind
the two Death Eaters holding her as though she didn't want him to see her like that.

Harry made a whimpering, dog-like sound in the back of his throat and tried to get back at his
feet, but suddenly he felt a nauseating jerk in his body and then he flew across the floor and
landing right in front of the Dark Lord's feet. Harry was shaking with anger and he shot the
Dark Lord a glare that had to be the closest thing a human could come the look of a Basilisk.

“*What have you done to her?!”* he hissed.

The Dark Lord did not look the least intimidated and seemed to find the whole situation rather
amusing. “Done?”

Harry could feel the dark magic he had in his veins roar; like a beast begging to get loose. The
entire room shook for a moment, and then all the lights went out.

The Dark Lord lightened them again with a quick wave of his wand arm, and when he met
Harry's look Harry was surprised to see them widened, as though in surprise or even fear.

Harry felt a flash of satisfaction - he knew his magic had been the cause of the shaking - but
it was quickly subdued when he reminded himself it had been *accidental* magic and not magic
he could actually control, much less direct to hurt the Dark Lord without causing damage to himself
or to Hermione. Instead he tried to calm himself with a few deep breaths and then he steeled
himself for what he was about to ask:

“What do I have to do for you to let her go?”

The Dark Lord's eyes gleamed with triumph over Harry's question. It was obvious now that
he had been waiting for Harry to ask just that. The Lord's claw like fingers entwined with each
other and then curled; fingernails that were too long and rotten scraped across the corpse-looking
skin. It was a pretty nasty sight.

“I will let her go on one condition,” began the Dark Lord quietly, but everybody in the room
heard him. “If you, Harry, fight us one by one and win. It will be the perfect way for me to see
what you are capable of doing.”

Harry felt his stomach drop and he quickly scanned the hooded figures in the room. They were so
many - thirty perhaps - and they all knew so much dark magic; there was no way he could win! He
glanced nervously at Hermione and noticed that she was still hiding her body from him behind one of
her guards, but he also noticed that her face was peeking behind one of the guard's shoulders
just enough to allow her to look back at him. She nodded slightly, telling him he could to do it
... that if anyone could win it had to be he. Harry felt a rush of gratitude fly through him. He
didn't think he could win, but to know that Hermione believed in him meant everything. Harry
wanted nothing more than to rush over to her, take her in his arms and wrap his cloak around her,
and hold her so tightly that they would be one; in their own little world where they were safe and
no one could seperate them. But then the reality came back crashing into him, reminding him of
where he was and the situation he had gotten himself into. He wondered - for a fleeting moment -
why Hermione didn't try to escape; the Death Eaters didn't seem to hold her very
tightly.

“I am quite curious of how powerful you are with all your memories intact,” continued the Dark
Lord, just as quietly as before; his words smooth as silk, yet sharp as a razor. Harry reluctantly
tore his eyes away from Hermione and shot the Dark Lord a nervous look. His mouth felt dry again
and he cautiously licked his lips. The Dark Lord smirked. “You have always had power, boy; you have
simply not used your full potential before. However, with the right motivation...“ The Dark
Lord's evil eyes glittered towards Hermione, who whimpered and turned her face away. “...we
should all be able to see just how much you can do for us. Did you think you could just
*quit,* Potter? After what I made you?”

Harry realized the Dark Lord was about to reveal the fact that he had been marked as a Death
Eater to Hermione and he was stricken with a paralysing fear. “No! Please -“

*“Crucio!”* hissed the Dark Lord suddenly, hitting Harry with the curse. He didn't hold
it for long this time, however, just enough to get his warning across. *“Remember who you are
talking to!* You shall address me properly!*”*

“Harry, what does he mean?” asked Hermione, speaking for the first time behind one of the two
Death Eaters holding her. She sounded anxious and afraid; Harry had rarely heard her voice so
uncertain and light before.

“Oh, bring her in front of you already!” snapped the Dark Lord impatiently. “I want to see the
Mudblood. *All of her,* when I reveal the news.” Then he turned to Harry and stepped closer.
“Would not *you,* Son?”

Harry realised he was shivering uncontrollably. He wanted to, but he couldn't bring himself
to look away from Hermione as the two Death Eaters holding her pushed her between themselves and to
the front, where she fell to the floor with a grunt from the force. The sound of metal chains
brought Harry's attention away from her naked body and to its source. Disbelief made it hard
for him to perceive immediately, but suddenly he saw why he had heard that sound: Hermione had a
collar around her neck. And not only one, but *two* chains were hooked on to it; being held by
the two Death Eaters on each side of her. She couldn't run even if she tried to and everyone in
the room knew it. In spite of himself Harry couldn't help but thinking it was an excellent way
to hold someone captive on and that he should remember it for later. A surge of dark magic that had
been built up from all the times he had used Dark Arts rushed through his body, telling him to
curse everyone he disliked in the room and start the battle early. If only he had had a wand! He
could make everyone pay for what they did to his Hermione! Harry's skin prickled with
anticipation at the thought ... but his renewed anxiety for his best friend won over the urge, and
he remained still.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” asked the Dark Lord dangerously, and it took Harry a moment to
realize the Dark Lord was talking to him, and it took him yet another moment to realize what he had
asked in the first place.

“I, er, uhm...” Harry glanced at Hermione's crouching body and then he looked quickly over
to where the Dark Lord was standing. “I...”

“Speak up!”

“I would rather not, Sir.”

*“Why are you being polite* *to that monster!”* hissed Hermione from where she half
laid, half stood, and was roughly kicked by the Death Eater to her left. She fell sideways with a
muffled groan, before covering as though she was afraid to get cursed as well for her disrespectful
words, but no curse came. The Dark Lord paid her no attention; his eyes were boring into
Harry's furious ones, adapting a curious look.

“Do you not find your Mudblood girlfriend attractive?”

Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Was it a trick question? He didn't know, but he
thought maybe it was and decided to lie; quickly throwing up his Occlumency shield further.

“No,” he said.

The Dark Lord's arm had been on its way up as though to emphasise a point he was about to
make, but stopped in mid motion.

“No?” the Dark Lord sounded disbelieving, and genuinely surprised. “Do you truly not wish to see
her? *All* of her?”

“No,” Harry repeated, making his voice clearer and stronger. He couldn't have sounded more
convincing, yet his answer could never have been further away from the truth.

“Peculiar,” murmured the Dark Lord and walked a few steps forward, closer to Harry. “Very
peculiar indeed.” His eyes moved across the Death Eaters standing around them. “I happen to know
quite a few of our members who would like that very much.”

Hermione had been frozen for a while from her spot on the floor, but Harry could see - even from
where he was standing - that her jaw had tightened at these words, and his stomach clenched so
painfully for her he could scarcely breathe. Again he wondered what they had done to her, and a new
desire to use the Dark Arts on her watchers engulfed him.

“Are you gay?” a Death Eater called out from the crowd, unwisely, and he was instantly Crucioed
by the Dark Lord, although the Lord himself never took his eyes off Harry. The curse was lifted
after a few seconds as it was only meant as a warning. Two crimson eyes scanned Harry for a second,
and the Dark Lord said:

“No, our Gryffindor serpent is not.”

Harry stood still and waited for the Dark Lord's next move. All this waiting was driving him
crazy, and he got more certain by the minute that the Dark Lord had to be truly enjoying himself in
those situations where everyone waited for him to move with awe, respect and fear. That had to be
the reason all the major meetings like the one he was in and where everyone was collected dragged
on to what seemed to him like forever. What was more, however, was that all the waiting was ragging
on his nerves.

“She is your girlfriend. How could you not be attracted to her?” asked the Dark Lord suddenly,
bringing them all back to the previous topic.

Harry forced a shrug. “We broke up months ago, before I even came here, My Lord. Time change and
we grew apart.”

He said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. What he didn't realise,
however, was that in his attempt to make his lie sound as convincing as possible, he had made one
irreversible mistake.

*“My Lord?!”* gasped Hermione, and the little colour she had left in her body disappeared
leaving her completely white. “What do you - what did he -? *No, Harry -* it's not
possible, you aren't ... tell me you aren't!”

Harry's stomach plummeted like lead when he realised his mistake, and with wide eyes he
turned to look at her again, wanting to say something, *anything* to assure her, but no words
came to him. His body had become efficiently numb and his mind was devoid of any words or thoughts;
blank as a new sheet of paper. He felt as though he was standing outside of himself, a mere
bystander who could see that something horrible was about to happen, but unable to stop it.

“Harry? *Harry!*” Her voice brought him back, but he was still as unable to find something
to say as before and he looked away from her in shame.

The Dark Lord placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and smirked. Harry wanted to shrug the hand
off, but couldn't bring himself to do it as he was frozen with fear and shame. “Did it just
occur to you, Mudblood? I have been told that you are intelligent in spite of your blood. Surely
you must have guessed before now what your Gryffindor hero has become?”

Hermione shook her head in denial, tears streaming down her cheek. “N-no, it was never an
option, he's *Harry*...”

Harry's throat tightened. Not only did she have to hear him say he didn't want her
anymore or found her attractive, now she was also told that he had become everything she was
fighting against and he didn't even try to deny it.

“*Harry!*” she cried in despair, and he forced himself to look back at her yet again,
knowing she was fully capable of seeing the truth in his eyes. Her face had gone from ghostly white
to beet red and her eyes were swollen and shiny. Her hair was flying everywhere in wild, frizzy
curls, only partially covering her breasts ... and even in a situation like this he couldn't
help but notice how beautiful she was, on the outside as well as her inside: in spite of all the
evidence against him she still refused he could be a Death Eater.

Her faith in him was astounding, and sadly also very naïve.

Hermione had not given up. *“Tell me it's not true! Tell me you're not one of
them!* *Tell me!**”* she demanded again, hysterically. Harry closed his eyes briefly
before reopening them, peering back at her just as desperately as she was peering at him in an
attempt to convey to her, somehow, the reason for it all ... that had he known better, he would
never have taken the Mark.

Hermione's face remained uncertain.

“I cannot,” he said finally, and his words rang heavily through the room.

Hermione's eyes welled with new tears. “I don't believe you!” she sobbed. “You're
not like that ... you're not! *I love you!”* she said, like that was reason enough.

Harry's mouth dropped open in surprise. He remembered, as though it had happened decades ago
and not only half a year, that there had been a time when she hadn't been ready to say it. And
now she had, in spite of everything. The urge to curse everyone else in the room faded a little,
like it wasn't as important anymore. Yet, at the same time it made him incredibly sad, because
he knew that the chances of him making it out of the Stone Edge with her were very slim, even if he
did win.

The Dark Lord made a disgusted face. “There is no such thing as love!” he spat, removed his hand
from Harry's shoulder and threw a curse that would cause electric shock at Hermione. She had
been kneeling, but when the curse hit her she yelped and fell backwards.

Then the Dark Lord waved his wand in another motion that was all too familiar with Harry.
“CRU-“

“NO!” Harry yelled and started forwards to knock the wand away from the Dark Lord's hands,
before stopping abruptly when the Dark Lord didn't finish the curse.

“Ah, so you *do* care...”

“I never said I did not, My Lord,” Harry defended himself, though he suspected it was futile,
“just that I am not attracted to her. She is still my friend and I do not wish her any harm.”

The Dark Lord seemed to accept Harry's words and smirked evilly. “Are you willing to fight
for her freedom, then?”

Harry nodded. Fighting for Hermione's freedom had been the entire reason he had come in the
first place. He couldn't stop a renewed feeling of dread to settle in him, however. It seemed
to Harry that he had been working up to this moment his entire life. The final battle. This was
it.

The Dark Lord held up both his hands, and the door behind Harry bolted itself so it was
thoroughly sealed and no one could possibly get out. Harry spotted his holly phoenix wand in one of
the Dark Lord's hands, and the wand was given to him silently. Harry wasted no time in getting
it and a rush of relief went through him when he finally had the slim, fine wood in his hands
again. Then, the two chains fastened to Hermione's collar glowed blue for a moment before
disappearing and she was released.

Hermione seemed to doubt her new freedom for only a second. She threw herself to her feet and
ran to Harry, only partially covering her private parts with her hands and arms. Harry quickly
pulled off his robe so he could cover her with it. Hermione ran into his arms with a muffled cry,
clinging to him as though her life depended on it. Harry wrapped his robe around her body like a
protective blanket and he hugged her back, and holding her had never felt so good ... but then she
pulled away, her eyes still puffy and shiny from tears, and she glanced down at his left forearm
where his Dark Mark stood out as a horrible glaring tattoo against his pale skin. No robe was
covering the truth anymore.

Hermione didn't say anything and stood still, unmoving. Harry could only watch her
helplessly as she thought; he doubted it would be a good idea to reach out to her in any way. If he
knew her as well as he thought he did, it might send her into hysterics. He could see it in the way
she kept her eyes down and away from him to avoid his gaze, and the way she stiffly and slowly took
her arms in their rightful sleeves so she could wrap his robe even more tightly around herself.

Harry wished she would say something.

The Dark Lord pointed out three Death Eaters from the large group surrounding them, and as they
answered Harry didn't recognise one, so he supposed they had to be new recruits. Harry knew
what the Dark Lord was trying to do: tiring Harry out for the good ones. What was worse, however,
was that Harry knew it would work.

His lips, mouth and throat suddenly became dry all over again, and his heart was beating
painfully against his chest. All the Death Eaters except the three the Dark Lord had chosen stepped
back so they were standing against the walls. Harry turned to face his three opponents. They had
their masks on and for a brief moment Harry tried to look through the masks and to the human beings
hiding behind them - where they there at their own free will? Or had they been Imperiused? Where
they perhaps someone's husband or father? If he did something that hurt them, would he risk
destroying a family?

*That is your old self talking,* Harry scolded himself and took a deep, shaky breath. *Do
not think about that. It is about surviving now.* Everything *is allowed.*

He took another deep breath and looked sideways at Hermione, who had turned as well and was now
facing the same way as he just had, towards the centre of the room. He didn't want her to see
the way he had learned to fight since Halloween and he knew he would have to use Dark Arts at some
point, but somehow he was glad to have her there. It might be the last time she stood by his side
like this, and even if she would rather be anywhere else in the world it warmed his heart. He
wanted her to be released and he would fight for her freedom until he did not have one living cell
left in his body.

Hermione did not have a wand. It would be entirely up to him to do it.

Adrenalin pulsed through Harry's body all the way down to his toes, and he watched in a kind
of detached way the Dark Lord as he clapped his pale, bony hands together like a gleeful child
waiting to open Christmas presents. The clapping sound echoed back from every wall in the room,
like a bell of doom.

Then the Dark Lord raised his arms high up in the air, and shouted:

“Begin!”

-->



44. The Sacrifice Part Two
--------------------------



**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me. Except for every grammatical error and spelling
mistakes. No beta anymore!

-

Ch44: **THE SACRIFICE**

**PART TWO**

It would help me to know
Do I stand in your way, or am I the best thing you've had?


We are young, heartache to heartache we stand
No promises, no demands
Love is a battlefield

**Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar**

The three Death Eaters attacked simultaneously. Hermione cried out and ducked, a curse soaring
over her head. Harry sidestepped the other two curses which were directed at him. He could see that
the Death Eaters prepared themselves to fire again, but they were slow - too slow to be doing it by
their own will, he thought - and he fired three quick “*Finite Incantatem!”* towards them. To
Harry's surprise they all hit their target and the Death Eaters fell to their knees. The mask
to the one furthest to Harry's right fell off and Harry realised he had been right as he saw
the distant and confused look in the man's eyes; they *had* been Imperiused...

However, the Dark Lord had already summoned the fallen Death Eaters wands and pointed out three
more Death Eaters from the crowd, and Harry paid no more attention to the ones who had already
fallen. He was encouraged by how fast he had taken the previous ones down and he tried the same
“*Finite Incantatem*” spell on the new Death Eaters, but this time only one of his spells hit
target and nothing happened. Harry tightened his jaw. He should've known they all wouldn't
be that easy. It was likely that only the three first ones had been under the Imperio spell.

They all circled each other for a while without attacking. Hermione held herself close to Harry,
but made sure to give him enough space to move and dodge. Other than that she didn't pay him
much attention; she was concentrating on the Death Eaters around them. She had no wand to protect
herself with so she depended on her ability to move away the second a curse was fired towards
her.

Suddenly a Death Eater shouted a curse, but Harry was ready and blocked it with a flick of his
wand. It helped that the Death Eater said the curse out load. The next Death Eater who fired also
yelled out load - *“stupefy!”* - only this time it was directed towards Hermione. Another
*stupefy* curse was fired towards Harry. Harry, who wanted to keep his spells silent,
exclaimed a *`Protego!'* inside his head to make a shield for Hermione and dodged the
curse which was soaring towards him. However, Hermione had managed to dodge the first curse anyway
so there had been no real use for Harry's shield, but Harry would rather be safe than sorry.
Adrenalin and something else was surging through his veins, making Harry breathe hard even though
he had not yet begun to tire. He swallowed when he recognised the `*something else'* he
was feeling: it was the Dark Arts begging to be released. Firing a disarming spell towards the
Death Eater closest to Hermione Harry allowed himself to cast a quick glance at her. He knew she
wouldn't approve if he used any Dark Arts, but at the same time he knew that if he had to use
them, he would.

The disarming spell he had shot had hit its target, and the Dark Lord wasted no time in calling
that Death Eater out and another one in. *Four down,* Harry thought; trying to encourage
himself.

A new stunner was fired towards Hermione and Harry raised a new shield for her just in time: she
wouldn't have dodged quickly enough this time. A new curse that seemed much more dangerous than
a simple stunner was fired towards her from another angle. Using what he had learned from the
lessons he had taken from Dumbledore back in Grimmauld's Place, Harry put more strength and
energy into the spell so that his shield widened and wrapped itself around Hermione from all
angles. For the first time during the match so far she looked at him, surprise and admiration in
her eyes. Then her eyes caught the curse that had been directed at her, but that had instead hit
Harry's shield. It had been reflected back to its owner, who had not been prepared for
Harry's trick. The curse hit, and the Death Eater fell to the ground and was quickly replaced
by a Death Eater who seemed to dance on his toes to not stand still. Harry made sure to step on his
toes as well like McClaggan had once taught him. Harry couldn't help but thinking that the
practice sessions he had had back then was remarkably similar to what he was experiencing now -
especially the one where he was supposed to protect Hermione, where she couldn't protect
herself ... it was a remarkable coincidence. Harry was almost willing to believe Trelawney had made
another prophecy about the situation in McClaggan's presence.

The match continued and Harry managed to bring down eleven more Death Eaters. The Dark Lord
always made sure to collect the fallen Death Eaters wands so Hermione couldn't reach them, and
he always made sure that there were at least three Death Eaters in the fray. However, none of that
seemed to matter for Harry. All that mattered was he, Hermione and the Death Eaters they were
fighting; everything else became an unimportant mist. Time seemed to slow down as Harry's feet
worked overtime from keeping him in the same spot more than a fraction of a second. Hermione did
the best she could not to be in the way and to dodge the spells that came flying towards her, but
Harry still found himself conjuring shields for her almost as much as he fired back at the Death
Eaters. It was no point only focusing on protecting Hermione and himself as no one had ever won a
war by merely playing defence that he knew of, and the Death Eaters were so many...

When Harry was halfway through the crowd of Death Eaters it had gotten tougher. They were more
advanced and knew more combat tricks, and they all moved in different directions. They seemed to
prefer to keep themselves either directly in front of Hermione or on the other side of her, which
made it extremely difficult for Harry to aim. Often he didn't dare to in case Hermione got hit,
and so it began to take him as much as ten minutes sometimes to bring down one Death Eater and he
began to tire.

`*Stupefy!'* he bellowed inside his head. `*Avis! Expelliarmus! Stupefy!'*
Light was flying everywhere along with sharp-beaked birds, and one of his red stunners collided
with a Death Eater's blue curse making the whole room glow purple in a spectacular shower of
light. Hermione had to raise her arm in order to shield her eyes. `*Incarcero!'* Harry
continued, making ropes fly out of his wand. They tied themselves around a Death Eater who
didn't see it coming because of all the light and he fell to the ground. The ropes were another
thing he had learned from Dumbledore, Harry remembered, and then he recalled an additional
spell.

`*Incendio!'* he mouthed wordlessly, making the spell more powerful so that instead of
a small flame it was a bomb of fire at the size of a small kitchen table that he shot towards a
Death Eater, who widened his eyes in shock.

“*Aguamenti!”* the Death Eater bellowed, waving his wand frantically at the ball of fire
that was too large to dodge, but it was no use. He was hit with full force and was thrown all the
way to the other side of the room. His clothes, hair and mask on fire - his whole body, in fact -
and he screamed in pain. Harry felt a great wave of adrenalin rush through him, making him
lightheaded and his nerves on even higher alert. It wasn't as good as using Dark Arts, but it
was still a wonderful sensation to feel so powerful.

Harry didn't realise he was smiling.

Another Death Eater replaced the fallen. Harry didn't take the time to look and count, but
he guessed there were only eight of them left now. For the first time Harry felt as though he had a
shot of winning ... Hermione would be able to go and be free.

As soon as he had thought that, however, the new Death Eater cried “*Accio!”* with his wand
pointing towards Hermione. She yelped as her body was yanked forwards, but thanks to the lesson
Harry had had with McClaggan he was prepared that it could happen. What he didn't know,
however, was how to stop her from flying into the Death Eater's grasp. Thinking quickly, Harry
tried to stop her course by crying out an `*Accio!'* of his own. She stopped in mid-air,
but didn't come towards him. It was a weird sight, it was like she was about to have a fit.
Suddenly she started to scream in pain and Harry's eyes widened in horror as he realised what
was about to happen: she would be literarily torn in two ... at the same time, Harry also saw in
the corner of his eye the two remaining Death Eaters fire at him. He broke the spell holding
Hermione, dove to the floor in a forwards roll, before raising both of his hands and sending a jolt
of electrical light towards to Death Eater to whom Hermione was heading. The two curses from behind
soared over his head and by a stroke of luck also below Hermione's feet, hitting the
unfortunate electrocuted Death Eater square in the stomach. A deep gash appeared there, and dark
red blood flowed out. Hermione fell to the ground right under the red stream, which painted her
hair and back with red blood. She gasped and spat and crawled to her feet - the bare sole of her
feet slipping against the wet surface - and ran back towards Harry, who had turned facing the other
way from her was now firing with full force against the two Death Eaters who had almost made him to
lose. Harry desperately wished that Hermione could get a wand and help him. She knew so many useful
spells.

Harry had avoided using any Unforgivable Curses for Hermione's sake, but he could feel his
barriers slipping away ... his mind was in a battle-modus, where there were no restraints. *To
hell with that,* he thought, *this is about saving her, not being her white knight. She would
have to settle for a dark grey one...*

*“IMPERIO!”* he exclaimed suddenly, fortunately hitting a Death Eater. Struck by sudden
inspiration he quickly found the bond that connected him to his victim, and commanded: `*Attack
those with dark robe and white mask!'*

The Death Eater turned on the spot and began to fire against his own, taking an additional Death
Eater down in the moment of surprise. It only worked once, however, as the Death Eater wasn't
nearly as quick when he wasn't doing it by his own free will. Harry smirked with excitement.
*W**hy hadn't he thought about that before?*

*Five* more Death Eaters to go now. Time for the Dark Lord's inner circle. Shooting
Hermione a nervous glance, Harry was surprised to see her looking back at him. What was more was
that there was no judgement in her eyes. Instead she nodded as in urging him to continue fighting
... Harry's heart jumped. She accepted it ... she accepted him! In a flash he could imagine all
kinds of silly clichés, like the two of them as an old couple, sitting by the fire in a cosy home,
a big and fluffy carpet underneath them. She would lie in his arms, smiling up at him as he held
her tight. Everything would be all right in the world. The walls would be covered with prettily
framed pictures showing their life together, and they would have children, beautiful children. They
would celebrate every Christmas and every Thanksgiving together, there would be no war and there
would be no Dark Mark on Harry's arm...

*St**.* *Mungos, here I come,* thought Harry to himself. He was clearly going
insane.

“WATCH OUT!” cried Hermione suddenly, and Harry was abruptly pulled back to the reality. He
swore to himself for letting down his guard. How could he have been so stupid?

A bright, green light was soaring towards him from behind his back, but he discovered it too
late and time allowed him no more than to turn. A mere second before the curse would've hit
him, however, he felt a rough shove on his side and he was knocked sideways. He fell to the floor,
and he felt something that was both soft and hard fall on top of him before sliding off and landing
on the floor beside him, and red-stained brown hair covered his vision. Harry's heart stopped
in horror. For several seconds all he could do was stare.

Things weren't supposed to end this way. She was supposed to make it out alive, it had been
the reason he came, the reason for everything ... *NO...**.*

“No...” he whispered in anguish. “NO!”

She had her face away for him. Harry was somewhat relieved because that meant he didn't have
to see her empty eyes, devoid of the life and knowledge he loved so much about her. But he had to
see ... he refused to believe she could be dead before he saw the truth with his own eyes.

Blinded by unshed tears and dizzying fear, Harry hardly noticed as he was scrambling to his feet
that the Dark Lord was screaming in rage that *`no killing curses was to be used! I need the boy
alive!'* or that another jet of green light soared across the room, hitting the Death Eater
who had originally sent the killing curse towards Harry. If Harry had, he might've tried to
block the course of the killing curse with his own body, in the hopes of getting hit. Without his
Hermione, he had no one left to fight for, no one left to live for.

His breath coming out as short, panicked gasps, Harry leaned over Hermione's still body, and
brushed away some of her blood-soaked hair so he could see her pale face and her still open eyes.
She stirred and looked at him.

“Please don't be dead, please don't,” Harry choked, not noticing her movement.
“Please...”

“Harry,” whispered Hermione hoarsely. Then swallowed to collect herself. “I'm OK, really, I
just got my breath knocked out...”

Harry blinked at her in disbelief; sure that what he was seeing couldn't true. That he
couldn't be so lucky. “*You...”* he said, grasping for words, but finding none.
“You...!”

Hermione reached up a hand and touched his chin gently, and her touch was so delicate and
welcome to him that it was impossible for him to move away from her. “*Shhh.*..” was all she
muttered, before giving him a weak smile. After a moment she slowly got up to her feet, on guard
again. Harry did the same, his head spinning. *That had been too close...*

One of the Death Eaters he had been fighting with suddenly started to chuckle, and Harry
recognised to voice as Dolohov's - who had been one of the two that had held Hermione in chains
when Harry first saw her that evening and also the one who had nearly killed her last year in the
Department of Mysteries. Suddenly something inside of Harry snapped and a rage stronger than what
he had ever felt before - even towards Bellatrix - came over him and he saw red. It didn't
matter to him that the Death Eater who had actually been stupid enough to shoot the failed killing
curse was already killed by the Dark Lord; Harry was furious. Hermione had almost died to save him,
and that Dolohov had the nerve to *laugh?*

Leaping to his feet, Harry bolted towards a no longer laughing Dolohov. “CRUCIO!” Harry
thundered, hardly seeing what he was doing in his rage, but also instinctually knowing that his aim
would hit its target. Red light shot out of his wand with an intensity that Harry had never
experienced before. As the curse hit Dolohov he started to scream in such an agony that Harry felt
spasms of orgasmic pleasure rally through his body; filling him, completing him. It was better than
the sensation that had filled him the first time he had been riding on a broom or Sirius'
motorcycle, it was more extraordinary than the time when Hagrid had told him he was a wizard and
that he could live away from his Aunt and Uncle. Harry let all of his frustration and fury go
through the curse, making it even more powerful than originally. All the pain Harry was causing
Dolohov was transferred back as pleasure to Harry. And it didn't stop! It lasted and lasted and
Harry didn't want it to end either. It felt wonderful and that was a feeling he hadn't
experienced too often lately. Harry threw his head back and began to laugh. He was a butterfly, he
thought with childish glee; a vibrant and alive butterfly with large, ticklish wings ... Harry
laughed so hard he could scarcely breathe, but suddenly the pleasure stopped, even though the curse
had not. Harry stopped laughing and suddenly felt very exhausted. Almost afraid of what he would
see, but too tired to truly care, Harry looked down at Dolohov.

The Death Eater who had been exposed to Harry's rage lay on the floor, his eyes open and
glazed, and inside his half open mouth and down his chin there was blood. With a very detached form
of acknowledgment Harry realised he had killed him; Dolohov had drowned in his own blood after
biting himself. Harry shrugged. It was impossible for him to feel any form for remorse; the bastard
had gotten what he had deserved.

Harry felt a relieved grin start to tug the corners of his lips. Then he felt something hit his
back and everything faded into darkness.

-->



45. The Sacrifice Part Three
----------------------------



**A/N:** This chapter turned out to be a little longer than I intended, but that's not a
bad thing, is it? Also, I'd like to give a special thanks to John - a friend from my school who
reads this story and makes sure that I write regularly.

-

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belongs to me.

Ch45: **THE SACRIFICE**

**PART THREE**

It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end

**The End by the Doors**

When Harry regained consciousness and opened his eyes he saw that he was in the same place as
before. If he had to guess, he would assume that he had only been unconscious for a maximum of
couple of minutes. Harry glanced around himself - and his heart sank. Hermione had been captured
again - by Avery this time - and her hands were tied behind her back. Her hair had been pushed to
one side so that Avery had free access with his wand to her neck. The message was clear: Harry had
lost the fight. If he misbehaved, Hermione would pay the price.

“I conquered Harry Potter, I conquered Harry Potter!” Bellatrix cheered herself, jumping from
foot to foot in joy and clapping her hands together. Her eyes gleamed with triumph. Seeing that
Harry was awake, her mouth formed into a little `o' before she stopped her jumping and looked
at the Dark Lord expectantly. The said Master ignored her and raised his hand as a signal for
everyone to settle down. Getting up slowly to his feet, Harry did not, however, pay attention to
the Lord. He had seen his wand in Bellatrix' hands and he wanted it badly. Surprisingly - after
another gesture from the Dark Lord - Bellatrix gave it back to him. Harry accepted it with some
surprise. The well used wood was comfortingly familiar, but he knew that for the moment it was of
little use for him.

The corners of Bellatrix mouth curled up in a slight smirk and she went to stand beside another
Death Eater. As on cue, the Death Eater removed his mask and revealed a great amount of blonde hair
and icy grey eyes, making no doubt of his identity: Lucius Malfoy. Smirking down at his companion,
Malfoy Senior handed her an item with a piece of cloth over it. “Well done, Bella,” he said
emotionlessly as Bellatrix gleefully accepted. She seemed to already know what it was and by the
tender way she held it Harry guessed it was something fragile. He looked between Bellatrix and the
object suspiciously. He had a feeling of what it could be, and Bella's sugar sweet smile did
nothing to ease his worries.

A cold sense of dread spread through Harry and he looked back at Hermione. She looked horrified.
He had a feeling it was not just because she was captured again, but also because of the way Harry
had killed Dolohov, and what would happen now as her ticket out of the Stone Edge was gone. Harry
wanted to say something to her, but he didn't know what. What did he say to the one person who
had always been there for him, when he had not been there for her when she needed him the most?
What did he say to his best friend who he had failed to save and who now also knew the darkest side
of him? What did he say to his past girlfriend when they were no longer together and soon would be
parted forever?

Harry suddenly found it very difficult to breathe. “*I'm sorry,*” he tried to say, but
his voice was so hoarse that nothing audible could be heard. Only the movement of his mouth could
indicate that he had tried to say something at all. Harry looked at Hermione desperately and hoped
she could see what he was trying to say to her through his eyes. She had always been very good at
reading him...

The Dark Lord stepped forth, closer to Harry, getting Harry's full attention in the
process.

Harry had run out of ideas. All that was left was to beg. Bowing his head as respectfully as he
could, he cleared his voice a little. “Please let her go. Please.”

“*CRUCIO!”* the Dark Lord bellowed. For some reason - and Harry could've cast a
Cruciatus curse on himself for that fact - he had not expected it at that moment, and he yelped as
the curse hit him. Two more Cruciatus curses hit him from other angles, tripling the effect. The
all too familiar feeling of thousand knives stabbing him from the inside out engulfed him, and in a
very far corner of his mind Harry registered that his face had hit the floor and he had started to
scream.

Harry wriggled, twisted and arched his back as the curse continued to soar through him, his
voice failing completely so he could no longer even scream. His lungs lost the ability to take in
oxygen and he felt very dizzy. Then he couldn't think of anything else other than the fact that
the last time he had been tortured under a Cruciatus curse that strong for a long period of time he
had lost his memories - with disastrous consequences. That couldn't happen again.

The curse stopped. Feeling weaker than a kitten, Harry allowed himself to simply lie completely
still on the cold stone floor, faking that he had fainted again. He could easily have given up and
stopped caring what happened to him, but Hermione was still in the room, he remembered. Therefore
he had to continue fighting. And to do that he would need strength.

The Dark Lord stopped directly in front of Harry and then bent down so that he was nearly at the
same level as Harry, like in an absurd parenting way. Harry didn't dare to glance up and meet
his eyes, but he did open his eyes. It was a better solution than being caught faking to pass out.
The Dark Lord put a long finger under Harry's chin, lifting his head slightly so that he could
peer into those emerald eyes.

“You know I cannot let her go without a price,” said the Dark Lord softly, as though the
torturing had never found place, like Harry was nothing but a child who needed to be reminded why
he couldn't have any candy. “You already had a chance of releasing her, but you did not
succeed.”

Harry gave a single nod.

The Dark Lord made a disapproving sound. Harry could feel the monster's eyes bore into him
searchingly. “To let her go now would mean that you would have to do something else for me. What do
you think that could be?”

Harry ransacked his brain. Only one answer came to him and it filled him with such fear that he
could feel his stomach turning, sending vomit up his throat so that he could taste it in his
mouth.

“The potion,” he pressed out, knowing it would be useless to play dumb. His voice was barely a
whisper.

The Dark Lord looked pleased. “That is correct. Bella, if you may...”

Bellatrix stepped forwards and bent down together with Harry and Voldemort. She removed the
piece of cloth that covered what she was holding, revealing a see-through cup of dark blue potion
that smelled to Harry as horrible as a rotten corpse would do. “Here, Harry sweet heart,” she
winked at him and held out the potion, not looking upset at all to get rid of it.

Harry had to forcibly calm himself, suddenly realising his body was shaking.

“NO!” cried Hermione suddenly and yelped as Avery put more force from his wand into her neck to
keep her quiet.

Harry took the goblet from Sirius' cousin's hands and saw golden threads spread from the
warmth from his hands and into the potion before melting into the liquid, making it green instead
of blue. The Dark Lord confirmed what Harry already knew.

“It has to be drunk willingly.”

Hermione didn't seem to care that Avery's wand was digging deeply into her neck.

“Don't do it, Harry!” she gasped. Avery grunted in annoyance.

Harry sent her a determined look. “Don't be stupid. I am not going to fail you again.”
*Even more,* he added to himself.

It was, in fact, quite an easy decision. Without her, he had nothing. Even when he had no
memories of her and was living with Annie he had still felt that something was missing. He would do
anything to get Hermione out of the castle so that she could return to Hogwarts and live a safer
life. She was the love of his life.

So he drank.

The first sip was enough for his mouth to start to burn, and as he swallowed the burning spread
down his throat and down to his stomach. He drunk again and he could feel the burning start to
spread further; to his shoulders, down his arms and feet to the tip of his toes and fingers. He
gagged, furrowed his brow and forced himself to continue drinking, he *had* to continue...

Hermione had started sobbing, but she was held tight. A different kind of burning started to
prick behind Harry's eyes and he almost felt like crying too, but he couldn't.

He swallowed the last drop and his shaking hands lost the glass so it fell to the floor and
broke into a thousand pieces. In all honesty, that's what he felt was happening to him, too.
That he was on the edge of being torn apart. His vision was blurry and it was hard to focus on what
was going on around him. He felt blackness creep upon him and he had to fight to stay awake and not
pass out for real. When he had taken the potion before he had felt immense pain, now, however, all
he felt was numbness; like his senses had somehow stopped to function as properly as they had done
before.

“Now, Harry, you have to do as I command. You belong to me. My will is now your will. I am going
to let you go back to Hogwarts, but as soon as I call you through your mind you have to obey. Come
to me when I tell you to, and do *everything* you have to in order to make it happen.”

Harry furrowed his brow and wanted to protest, but he didn't know how to. He was too
drained. He could hear the words his Lord had just spoken repeat themselves in his mind. He knew he
would never forget them.

Hermione was let go, and she rushed over to Harry.

Still sobbing, and in spite of the fragile condition she was in herself after her captivity, she
let him support himself on her. The front doors behind them opened.

“You are free to go,” said the Dark Lord, his eyes glittering devilishly.

Hermione wasted no time in turning Harry around and together they started rather klutzily to
move towards the exit.

When they were almost there, they heard the voice of the Dark Lord drawl: “You are forgetting
something.” Both casting a look over their shoulders, they saw the Dark Lord holding up a wand.

Hermione's wand.

Hermione let out a tiny sound mostly thought of as a whine from a small dog and for a second she
stood still. To get her wand it would mean for her to leave Harry where he was and go back to where
the Dark Lord stood waiting.

Harry felt Hermione tremble underneath him, but her decision had been made. With a new
determined glint in her eyes, she ignored the invitation from the Dark Lord and hurriedly continued
towards the exit. Harry admired her courage and his heart swelled with love for her. Somehow it
gave him strength to speed up.

As they went through the door they could hear the Dark Lord laughing.

Hermione didn't look back. All her focus was on helping herself and Harry to get out of
there. They stumbled down the hall. “Move Harry, move!” she urged him and Harry nodded, trying to
do as he was told. But he was so incredibly tired and all his muscles seemed to have mysteriously
vanished ... he could feel the potion move around in his belly, making him feel sick...

They rounded a corner and Hermione threw him off herself so that he stumbled against the wall.
He was about to ask her what she was doing, but she wasted no time in explaining.

“You have to throw up the potion immediately. Now!”

Thinking it would be easy because of his nausea, Harry bent over and gagged, but nothing came
up. It was as though something stopped it. He tried to put two fingers in his mouth, but with the
same useless result.

“Oh, for heaven's sake...” mumbled Hermione and took his wand from his hand.
*“Contromit!”* she cried, pointing the tip of his wand to his belly. Suddenly Harry could feel
his stomach contracting itself and then he was throwing up, nice and thoroughly. “Good, good,” said
Hermione, petting him anxiously on his back. “It'll be ok. Everything will be ok. We can handle
this ... we've been through difficult trials before. Come on, let's get out of this
place.”

Harry took his wand back cleaned his mouth with a *scourgify.*

“Yes,” he said, his voice not quite sounding like himself. He tried to ignore that in spite of
throwing up a good part of the potion he didn't feel much better. “Let's.”

-

As Hermione didn't know the way, it was up to Harry to tell which way to go. It didn't
go as fast as he would've liked it to, however. Both he and Hermione were tired, so tired in
fact that both of them doubted they had ever felt worse. The thought of a hot bath, a bed and some
food seemed like something that belonged to another world. Harry swore to himself that he would
never take that for granted again.

In spite of Harry's disorientated mind he managed to guide them both out of the castle and
outside to the soggy ground and heavy clouds above. Harry gave a brief thought to the fact that it
must had rained while they had been inside, but the thought was soon forgotten. It had no
importance.

Working their way to the Apparition boundaries, Hermione with bare feet, Harry sincerely hoped
this would be the last time he was in that place. However, that wish could only come true if the
potion went away and the prophecy was cancelled somehow. Both seemed just as unlikely.

“I'm not sure I'll be able to Apparate us both, Harry,” panted Hermione anxiously.

“You can,” assured Harry, thinking that there was no way he could apparate them or even himself
alone at that point. The world was spinning too much; he would be lucky to only splinch once if he
tried it. Hermione looked at him anxiously, probably knowing what he was thinking.

“What if I get it wrong...”

“You won't,” said Harry quickly. “And if you did, I wouldn't be mad. Besides, you were
always best at this.”

Hermione closed her eyes in an attempt to gather courage. Harry smiled gently and grasped her
hands, thinking the Sorting Hat had been right to put her in Gryffindor. When she opened her eyes
again she had the same determined glint she had back in the room with the Dark Lord.

“OK, let's try. On three ... one ... two ... three...” Harry felt his feet leave the ground
and a second later they were standing in Hogsmade, with Hogwarts' impressive size at some
distance before them. Harry hands still clutched Hermione's, and he shook them gently in
triumph.

“You did it!”

Hermione took a deep breath and let it go, looking just as relieved as he felt. “Yeah.”

“You are without a doubt the most astounding, brilliant witch I know,” Harry praised sincerely.
Not finding the thought of walking all the rest of the way very appealing, Harry let go of
Hermione's hands to pull out his wand.

“*Accio firebolt!”* Harry shouted, feeling the cool air starting to get to him; he now not
only wanted to find a bed to sleep in, but also one to find warmth in. However, in spite of how
tired and afraid he was, he was sincerely happy. Not just because they were very close to Hogwarts,
the one true home he had ever had, but because Hermione was beside him. She was still naked under
Harry's coat and her hair had never been more bushy, but looking at her Harry realised he had
never seen anyone more beautiful.

-

After making it back to their school, they dismounted Harry's broom and put it away in one
of the Quidditch broom closets. Hermione, who had never been very fond of riding a broom, had not
complained once on their flight. Harry was amazed that he had managed to stay alert. Maybe he had
more strength than he had thought after all?

They took no detours in getting to the Gryffindor common room. Their only obstacle was when they
had met Dumbledore and Snape, who had both given him very inquiring looks and was insistent on
talking with them. They said something about hospital wing, but Hermione managed to convince them
that it was not necessary, that all they needed was a good night's rest. Harry was quite
nervous the whole time and made sure to keep his arm around Hermione's shoulders so they
couldn't see his Dark Mark. At the same time, however, Harry couldn't help but feel
resentful towards the two older wizards for keeping them.

When they finally reached Gryffindor tower Harry was in no mood to talk to anyone, so he just
nodded and smiled back to his housemates when they greeted him and Hermione. Parvati seemed
exceptionally happy to have him back. Harry smiled at her, glad that she had regained some sparkle
in her eyes. He hadn't see her have that since the night she had lost her parents and had come
to Grimmauld's Place where he had to take care of her. Harry had not been too fond of the task
then, but later he had been glad because it had given him a new friend.

Ron came over as well, but he went quickly from cheering “Hey, you're back! Both of you!
Brilliant!” to stop talking and then get very long neck like he was curious to see what Hermione
was wearing underneath Harry's coat. Harry was about to snap at him when Neville come over and
offered them some chocolate. After eating a bite Harry no longer felt the need to snap at Ron. When
he thought about it, he could actually understand the Weasley in a way. Hermione was an attractive
girl. Harry took another piece of chocolate and felt some more energy return to him.

After excusing themselves, Harry and Hermione sent each other a silent look of agreement.
Instead of going to her own dormitory, Hermione followed Harry up to his. After all they had been
through they didn't want to say goodnight to each other just yet.

Fortunately the rest of the Gryffindors seemed to realise they needed some alone time and no one
followed them up. Hermione and Harry sat down on Harry's bed together, sitting close and
holding hands. The curtain was slightly open which allowed some moonlight to get in. Hermione was
deep in thought and didn't say anything at first.

Harry sighed and looked at her. He knew he had to be the one to start talking.

“I am sorry I have changed,” he forced out, not beating around the bush. He looked away in
shame.

Hermione's eyes flickered almost involuntarily to Harry's Dark Mark and then to the
scars around it from when Harry had tried to remove it with a scissor after magic had failed
to.

“You were brainwashed,” she relented finally. Harry could feel her hand put a slight more
pressure into his. “Obviously they introduced you to the Dark Arts, making you addicted to them...”
Hermione hesitated and looked at him uncertainly. Harry gulped, remembering that he had introduced
the Dark Arts to himself, even before the Dark Lord had aided him. Sometimes he had just felt so
restless and angry, and using the Dark Arts had felt good at the time, like therapy. Somehow,
however, Harry felt that there was an explanation for that, but the answer escaped him. “...and I
know you remember everything now,” continued Hermione. “And that you're still addicted, that
the Dark Arts are still a part of you. I mean, after what you did to Dolohov -“ seeing Harry's
face Hermione quickly added “-not that I'm sorry. He was one of the worst in there, he was
downright vicious and he deserved what he got.”

Harry looked at her in surprise.

“I'm not sorry about him being dead, Harry. I'm sorry that you have to have his death on
your shoulders.”

Harry nodded in understanding. But a worry he had had since he had first seen her chained and
naked in the Stone Edge had not let go of him. He felt his stomach go cold, but he knew he had to
ask.

“Did they, you know, do something to you while you were there? Did they *touch* you in an
inappropriate way, or something? Did they?” Harry swallowed, realising his voice was shaking.

Hermione looked away, her eyes growing blank. Harry froze, hardly daring to breathe. Did that
mean that she had been raped? Harry was not tired at all anymore: he had grown warm with fury and
he was clenching his jaw together so tight with determination that it was painful to him. He knew
that he would hunt whoever had done it to hell and back if he had to in order to avenge her honour.
How *dared* they?!

“They did, didn't they?” he pressed when she didn't answer him. “Who? Who did? I'll
kill him, I swear I will, just like I did to Dolohov, only I'll torture them for a much longer
time. So long in fact that he'll beg for me to kill him before I'm halfway done!”

Hermione turned to face him, looking worried by his words. “You'll do no such thing,” she
said firmly. “You're going to stop with the killing, and Dark Arts in general. Because
you're Harry - you're too good for it. In spite of everything you've been through, and
in spite of that *horrible thing...*” She said, nodding towards his Dark Mark. “...you're
not a Death Eater.” She blinked to force back some tears. “And I was never raped by them. Being a
Muggle Born of unworthy blood meant that I was too dirty for them; below their standards. ” She
choked, unable to fight back her tears anymore. “I'm not sorry about *that,* of course.
It's just...” she choked again and seemed unable to continue the sentence before she had
collected herself. Harry waited patiently, feeling immensely relieved, but also worried why it had
still managed to upset her. “You think I'm pretty right, Harry? You were lying when you said
you felt nothing special towards me to V-Voldemort, right?” Hermione looked up at him desperately,
her hazel eyes red and swollen with tears. “I know we broke up,” she continued before Harry had the
chance to answer. “Well, *I* broke up. I shouldn't have done that. I'm not really
smart, am I? Everyone thinks I'm so clever just because I read books, but in real life I'm
not smart at all! Not smart, not pretty, not-“

“Hush,” Harry interrupted her, cupping her face with his hands and brushing away some tears with
his thumbs. Then he leaned forwards, feeling her warm and sweet breath on his chin. Then he closed
the rest of the distance and kissed her, more gentle and tender than he had ever kissed her, or
anyone, ever before.

It took her a second to respond, but then she was kissing him back, just as carefully, raising
her hands to his shoulders, holding him close to her. They deepened the kiss, tongues brushing
against each other softly, not demanding anything, but simply to revel in each other's
presence. It was a promise to each other: that from now on whatever happened they would stand
together, fight together, doing everything together. Kissing her made Harry forget all the troubles
of his past and all his worry about the future, especially now that he had drunk the last dose of
the potion. Kissing her made all that seem unimportant. All that mattered was him and her, and that
moment.

Harry traced his tongue over her bottom lip, back and forth, making her moan and clutch him
tighter. Somehow they ended up kissing lying down on the bed, Harry on top. His hands were still
cupping her face and he marvelled in how soft her skin was. He stopped kissing her for a moment and
pulled back a couple of inches to take in how beautiful she looked. Her hair was spread across his
white sheets and the moonlight from the window illuminated her face, giving her an eerie glow. He
wanted to remember that sight forever.

“You're so beautiful,” he said sincerely, unable to avert his gaze. Hermione looked as
though she wanted to believe him, but not quite daring to.

Instead of trying to convince her with words, Harry decided to show her just how beautiful he
thought she was. Tracing his fingers from her face, her neck and to her collarbone, his fingers
found the hem of the coat he had given her earlier. It suddenly seemed quite incredulous to him
that she was wearing still it and that she would look even better without it. Gently he spread to
coat to each side so that her breasts were visible to him. Liking what he saw, Harry helped her
remove the coat completely and put it on the floor beside the bed. Then, slowly, he began kissing
her jaw. Instead of moving to kiss her mouth, however, he moved down to kiss her neck, making her
moan again, before kissing further and further down her body; between her breasts and to her belly,
only stopping when he reached her belly button. He didn't want to go further if she wasn't
ready.

However, Hermione's pretty eyes did not look scared or hesitant or upset, instead they were
calm, sure and filled with love for him.

“You don't have to stop,” she said, moving her hands to caress him beneath his shirt.

Harry's heart soared with happiness. “Stay with me tonight?” he asked her, brushing his lips
against hers again.

“Yes,” she breathed, arching her back slightly so she could come closer to him. “Yes.”

“You're so beautiful,” Harry repeated, and added: “Like an angel.”

Hermione laughed; her laughter sweeter than music to his ears. Then Harry remembered something
she had said in the room with all the Death Eaters and he smiled down at her. “And I love you,
too.”

-->



46. When Every Minute Counts
----------------------------



**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**

Ch46: **WHEN EVERY MINUTE COUNTS**

I've been trying to nod my head, but it's like I've got a broken neck
Wanting to say I will as my last testament
For you to be saved and me to be brave
We don't have to walk down that aisle

For if marriage ain't enough
Well, at least we'll be loved

More Adventurus by Rilo Kiley

Morning - or afternoon, he wasn't quite sure - greeted Harry by making him squint his eyes
against the sharp light which was poking them. He buried his face further down his duvet where
something curly that smelled off vanilla tickled his nose. Starting to feel more conscious, Harry
became aware that he had his arm wrapped over a warm body in front of him. The body breathed slowly
and Harry felt a great wave of relief wash over him when he realised the nightmare was over. He was
holding Hermione, she was alive, he was alive, and they were together.

Harry smiled in content and snuggled closer to Hermione. He liked how she felt against him; her
nice curves and her thin waist and how his arm seemed to fit perfectly somewhere in between. In her
sleep Hermione made a small murmur and moved closer to him and one of her hands moved up to hold
Harry's softly. It reminded him of how vulnerable they were. They were strong together, but
they were only two, and to Harry it seemed like the whole world was fighting against allowing him
happiness. Harry knew that for him happiness meant Hermione and there was no way he was letting her
go now.

Sighing, Harry decided to continue to lie beside Hermione silently, watching her sleep although
her hair was blocking most of the view. He just wanted to enjoy every moment. Harry found it quite
amazing that in spite of being so worn out and tired on his way to Hogwarts from the Stone Edge, he
hadn't felt tired at all when he had been in his bed with Hermione. However, after they were
done enjoying each other both had almost instantly fallen into a very deep sleep. If anything,
their night together had been perfect.

Harry peeked over her shoulder to study her face. She seemed so peaceful and so young when she
slept. He could even imagine she was kind of smiling. Harry sighed and gently removed his top hand
from hers to brush some hair away from her face. Her eyelids fluttered slightly and she moaned
sleepily in protest of losing his hand. Harry smiled and gave his hand back to her. His thoughts
running away with him, Harry supposed the Stone Edge had forced both of them become adults for real
and he wasn't going to take the innocence he saw on her face now for granted.

Outside Harry's window the birds were celebrating with genuine delight over the sunny
weather by chattering away. Some of the sunshine had found its way through one of Harry's
curtains and made Hermione's hair glitter. The rest of the dormitory was empty. Harry laid back
on his pillow and wished they would never have to move.

Harry wasn't sure how long they had been lying there when Hermione suddenly stirred and
turned around to face him.

“Hi,” she murmured sleepily, her eyes barely open. She blinked softly in an attempt to clear her
eyes.

“Hi,” Harry whispered softly back to her, his voice sounding a bit hoarse just like hers did. He
smiled as he thought back to the night before once again; her soft kisses and skin and how she had
felt inside ... looking at her now, he found her just as beautiful as in the moonlight.

Hermione pulled the blankets a little tighter around them both before resting her forehead
against his. Harry had almost expected her to be behaving a bit sheepishly towards him, but she
seemed completely comfortable. None of them said anything more for a while and neither wanted to
move. Harry noted with dismay that he was starting to feel quite hungry, but did his best to ignore
it. Instead he took two fingers under Hermione's chin and brought her head up so he could kiss
her again. It worked very well as a distraction from his complaining stomach.

They stayed half an hour more in his bed before Harry had to admit that as a man he could only
deny food for so long, and both agreed that a shower would be an advantage. With an adventurous
look in her eyes Hermione suggested they could have a shower together which Harry happily agreed
to. They ended up spending more time in the shower kissing, touching and giggling rather than
getting clean, but it certainly made both of them feel very refreshed.

When they were done Hermione dressed into some of Harry's clothes instead of finding her own
from the girls' dormitory. The common room was blissfully empty as well, and they could walk
down to hall towards the kitchen hand in hand to eat breakfast in privacy. Dobby greeted them with
great child-like delight and served them instantly.

“Dobby is so happy Master is back, Sir!” he exclaimed happily, jumping from foot to foot as he
moved about in the kitchen. “Dobby hopes Master and his Misses will enjoy their lunch!”

“Thank you, Dobby,” said Harry sincerely. He pulled the chair out for Hermione. “Shall we?”

Hermione nodded and sat down gratefully, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. Within a
minute their plates had been filled with bread, eggs, beans, sausages and salad, and on the side
they both had a glass of juice that would automatically fill up when they had emptied it.

“It feels like ages since I had a proper meal like this,” said Hermione quietly, and seemed to
struggle to meet his eyes for a second. Harry got the impression that she wanted to talk more about
what had happened to them both in the Stone Edge.

“I know,” replied Harry, but left it at that. He knew exactly what she meant, but he didn't
want to bring it up just yet. Actually he just wanted to forget everything about it and pretend it
had never happened.

Hermione said nothing more about it and they ate in a rather comfortable silence.

“That was delicious,” remarked Hermione when they had finished their meal.

“Yes, it was,” Harry agreed, and got up to take her hand. “Thanks again, Dobby.”

“Dobby is happy to, Sir!” said the little house elf eagerly. “Dobby wishes Master and Misses a
good day!”

“You too, Dobby,” said Hermione kindly, squeezing Harry's hand. “Would you mind sitting
outside by the lake, Harry?”

“Not at all.”

They walked out of the castle and towards a few threes by the lake in silence. Harry was afraid
to talk about what had happened and Hermione seemed to be deep in thought. Glancing at her, Harry
could see that sometimes she would frown and bite her lip, and he instinctually knew she was
anxious about the future and also their future together. Neither of them knew how much the last
dose of the potion would affect him as soon as the Dark Lord made a move. The spell Hermione had
casted on Harry to make him throw up may not prevent the potion from working. Both Harry and
Hermione knew that sooner or later that day they would have to find Snape and Dumbledore to try to
sort things out with them and get answers to their questions. However, before then they deserved a
few moments of bliss and Harry was determined to enjoy every minute of it.

The weather outside was getting cloudy, but the sun from that morning had left its mark by
making the air warm and humid. Bees and butterflies were flying around like they were confused and
didn't know where to go. A bust of wind made them tumble sideways and they had to fight to
regain control. Sitting on a branch not too far away from them hungry crows were watching intently.
Harry ignored that tree and went to the one he considered his favourite. That tree had a
particularly thick trunk that could support both of their backs without being too uncomfortable and
also gave them a good look over the school lake as an added bonus. Harry liked the lake and how he
and Hermione had bathed together in the beginning of the year. That memory made him smile.
Together, Hermione sighted and put her chin down on his shoulder while holding his upper arm softly
and thoughtfully. Shifting slightly to look at him, Harry felt his heart flutter when her eyes met
his. He suddenly became aware of how the water reflected back onto her face, painting all sorts of
patterns across her soft skin. He also noticed how the slight and uncertain sunlight made her hair
glitter; similar to how freshly fallen snow would in the winter. He then noticed her eyes lower
towards his lips. He took the hint and kissed her, softly and firmly. She tasted very good and
Harry eagerly kept on kissing her for a good twenty minutes until they were interrupted by someone
clearing his or her voice.

Looking up, Harry saw the person he had considered his best friend for many years: Ron.

Hermione turned her head and saw the red haired boy too. Squealing, she jumped to her feet and
gave Ron a bone crushing hug.

“Ron!” she exclaimed joyfully, pulling back to see her face with a big grin. Ron was grinning
back at her, and Harry felt a pang of jealousy when he remembered Ron had insisted on Hermione
giving him a shot of a romantic relationship with him last summer, and that he quite possibly still
had feelings for her. At the same time Harry's wand sprouted out a few angry sparks which was
unnoticed by anyone except Harry himself.

“Hello,” Harry shot in to interrupt them. Hermione was his! And no one was taking her away from
him.

Ron's eyes shifted from Hermione to Harry and he offered Harry a smile as well. “Hi Harry.
Good job on bringing her back!”

“Of course I was bringing her back. Could not very well let her stay there and rot, could I?”
remarked Harry, he was unable to keep his voice from not sounding the slightest bit accusing. He
almost added `*And what did you do to help?'* but managed to refrain himself.

Hermione shrugged uncomfortably and sat back down beside Harry. After a moment's hesitation
Ron decided to do the same, only directly in front of Harry and Hermione and therefore blocking the
view to the lake. The sun was completely hidden behind a cloud now and Harry suddenly realised that
what was *not* hidden was his Dark Mark since he was only wearing a t-shirt. He shifted his
left arm so the mark was pointing towards the ground and not from an angle where Ron could happen
to see it.

“So!” said Ron, looking quickly between Hermione and Harry. “Don't leave me in the dark! Go
on. Tell me what happened!”

When Hermione seemed to struggle to find the right words, Harry shot in: “It is not that easy to
explain, Ron.”

“But it's similar to our experiences from other years, isn't it?” Ron questioned,
getting a little bit defensive. “We've been through stuff before, it's not like I can't
handle to hear about it.”

“I am not saying that. All I am saying is that this was nothing like those other times,” Harry
tried to explain. “Before, when we managed to get ourselves into danger, we were only in true
danger for a short period of time. Usually the day after we would be out of the trouble and in the
hands of adults who healed all our wounds before they had *real* time to hurt, we got plenty
of rest, food and drinks, we got everything we needed straight afterwards. This time was different,
for both of us.” Harry cast a glance towards Hermione. She looked apprehensive, and her lips who
had been swollen from kissing were slowly returning to their normal thickness. “This time, there
was no escape … the pain was just there, constantly, and you knew it could only get worse. That was
the worst bit. Not seeing the end of the tunnel. And when you have reached that point, they can do
anything to you…”

Harry broke off, feeling he had said a lot, maybe too much.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Ron impatiently. “But what *really* happened?!”

Harry sent Ron a quick, impatient glare. Hermione finally spoke up.

“We were in captivity. I had to spend most of my time in a cage, waiting to be questioned. But
there was nearly no water or food in all this time … that's bad enough, but Harry got it worse
I think,” she offered.

“No food and no drinks..?” gasped Ron, stunned.

“Yes, that's right,” said Hermione, a knowing look in her eyes. She knew it was the best way
to make Ron understand a small fraction of what they had been through. Again, Harry felt proud by
thinking of how smart his girlfriend was. He hoped she was his girlfriend again at least.

“That must've been awful,” said Ron. “I would've rolled over and died after five hours
tops.”

“Come on, Ron. That's not true!” encouraged Hermione, then jokily added: “You would've
done at least six.”

The corners of Ron's mouth pulled upwards and soon he was laughing. Hermione giggled, like
she was trying to be polite. Harry merely watched them both. He didn't want to pretend for one
second that it was funny, he didn't see the point.

When Ron had recovered from his amusement, he kicked up some earth with the sole of his shoe and
wrapped his hands around his knees. “Well. I'll join you next time there is something.”

“That is nice, Ron,” said Harry with a sigh.

“You know if you had told me you were going I would've come with this time as well.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “OK…”

Hermione took Harry's hand and squeezed it. Harry was grateful; she had a very calming
effect on him.

“But maybe that was a good thing,” suggested Ron surprisingly. “I mean, you're here, right.
If I had come with you, I might've screwed it up.”

Harry shrugged, knowing Ron was right about that. He didn't want to think about the
complications that could have arisen had Ron came with him to the Stone Edge. “Maybe, but it
wouldn't have been your fault. The whole situation was just-“

“-impossible,” Hermione continued. “And very horrible. I never, *ever* want to go back
there!”

“I'm glad you both made it out OK,” said Ron quietly after a moment's pause. “Hogwarts
hasn't been the same without you. I'm sorry for how things were last fall and if I behaved
badly. I've missed you.”

Hermione grinned affectionately, looking touched. “That means a lot. You seem older somehow too.
I suppose you must've matured quite a bit!”

Ron smiled thinly. “I guess I have.”

“Well, it had to happen sooner or later,” joked Harry, and quickly had to duck away from a
handful of grass Ron threw at him.

Harry was happy that the ice seemed to be broken. Unfortunately, it was not to last long.

Ron seemed to struggle with what he was about to say next. “I've got some bad news though,
mate … your snake, he's, erm, gone missing.”

Harry stared at him. “What?”

“Seamus or Dean took him somewhere. They really don't like snakes…”

Harry let go of Hermione's hand and stood up. He felt ice cold. Without a word he turned
away from their alarmed faces and started to walk briskly towards the castle. He knew that if he
stayed chances were he would take it out on Ron. *It is not Ron's fault,* he told himself
sternly, feeling his stomach clench in worry and anger. *It would not be fair to take it out on
him. In fact, Akin might still be OK…*

“Harry, wait!”called Hermione. Harry heard her approach with small running steps behind him. Ron
followed along too, but not as hurriedly.

“What are you planning to do?”

“We will see,” replied Harry. He hadn't planned anything other than following his gut
feeling.

Hermione seemed to know what he was thinking, and she leaned close to his ear so she could talk
without Ron hearing her.

“You don't know if Akin's hurt. Remember Sirius? Investigate everything first.”

Harry snorted. Of course he remembered Sirius! How could he not?

“Just…” Hermione lowered her voice further. “Just don't use any dark arts. The potion was a
dark potion, doing dark arts might just make it stronger … magic is connected like that…”

At the mention of dark arts, Harry felt his wand glow warm. It was less than a day since he had
used them last, but he already wanted to use them again….

“Promise me!” insisted Hermione urgently.

Ron finally caught up with them and Harry used that as an excuse to not answer her. He wanted to
promise her, but he honestly didn't know if he could keep his words.

With Ron and Hermione flanking him on each shoulder, Harry walked determinedly towards the
Gryffindor common room. He wanted a word with Seamous and Dean.

-->



47. Annies Predicament
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