Chapter Two:
The Path of Thorns
Ron and Hermione were more surprised than Lupin or Tonks to hear him talk, having seen the state he was in before, having seen that he didn't seem to acknowledge or recognize them. Now he seemed to have clear thought and perfect ability to speak. Ron moved over to him as he sat up carefully, slowly, and handed Harry's glasses back to him. He slipped them onto his face, ignoring the cracks in the lenses - he could fix them later. He looked at all of them and ran a hand through his hair. He knew what they wanted, knew that they wanted to know everything, and that Ron and Hermione would want it all in the very deepest of detail. He just couldn't do that right now. Sitting up he looked down at himself, realizing he had no shirt on and looked questioningly at his friends.
"You needed healing," Hermione said, handing him the shirt of Ron's she had brought down for him.
"Thanks," he replied. "I'm sorry about earlier," he said as he pulled the shirt on.
"What happened?" Tonks asked, sitting down on the other end of the couch.
"I told you, he knows I'm here. Voldemort knows that I'm here, and he wasn't very happy about it," Harry answered.
"Harry, that's impossible. This place is protected by a powerful charm-"
"I know," he interrupted, effectively cutting Hermione off. "I know that. I didn't mean he knows I'm here; he knows that I'm back with you lot." He looked around the living room and then at Ron. "Mind if I ask for a drink?"
"Not at all," Ron said, starting to head for the kitchen. He stopped halfway there and turned around. "Harry?" Harry looked at him. "It's good to have you back."
"Thanks, Ron."
"And if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll kill you." With that he went into the kitchen to get glasses and something to drink - something strong, because he had a feeling they were going to need it. Professor Lupin moved from where he was standing near the sofa to stand in front of Harry, and he stood there just looking down at Harry.
"Don't look at me like that," Harry said quietly.
"Harry…" he said quietly. He wanted to say more, because there was so much more that needed to be said, yet he found there were no words coming out of his mouth, and said the only thing he could: "You have no idea what a relief it is, how good it is to see you alive." He didn't know what to say to that and simply looked up at Professor Lupin, all the things they needed to say remaining silent in their eyes. It would have to do for now. Thankfully the awkwardness was interrupted by Ron returning with an arm full of glasses and a bottle filled with amber liquid.
"Fire whiskey?" Hermione questioned and Ron shrugged.
"It's fine," Harry said, accepting the glass Ron handed him. No one said anything while Ron handed them glasses and poured for each of them. "We're missing someone," Harry finally said.
"What are you talking about?" Professor Lupin asked.
"I know that you surely notified Professor McGonagall," Harry said.
"You're right, we did," Ron said. "But she's Headmistress at Hogwarts, and it's not so easy for her to get here." They all nodded, accepting this was in fact the case, and dropping it promptly.
"Harry…" Hermione started hesitantly, and he found himself suddenly holding his breath. "What happened?" There it was. The single question he didn't really want to answer, because he really just didn't want to think about it right that moment. Yet, somehow he knew that Hermione would be the one to ask. Sometimes, he really wished she'd stop caring so much.
"A lot, actually," he said, and proceeded to be the first to drink of the fire whiskey, and the first to finish his entire glass. They all looked at him but said nothing. He got up and took the bottle from where Ron had put it on the mantle above the fireplace. He poured himself another glass. "It all depends on how much you want to know, and where you want me to start."
"Why don't you start at the beginning, Harry," Professor Lupin said. Harry downed his second glass of fire whiskey, grimacing as it burned the entire way down. He poured another glass, speaking as he did so.
"There isn't enough time in the world to start from the beginning," Harry said. He was quiet for a few moments as everyone but him exchanged glances. Professor Lupin sat down next to Tonks, and Hermione and Ron sat down on the love seat adjacent from the sofa. Harry finally looked up at them. With the bottle of fire whiskey in his hand, he made his way to the armchair and sat down. "When I left, I didn't do it to intentionally hurt any of you," he said. "I did the only thing I thought I could to protect you all, and maybe it wasn't exactly the best way to do things, but at the time I thought it was the only way. So I left."
"We could have helped you," Hermione said quietly.
"You see, that's the thing," he said, pouring more whiskey into his glass, but only sipping it this time. "You couldn't have. Well, it's not that you weren't capable, it was more or less the fact that I needed to do this alone. I had to face down my demons without endangering everyone else in the process."
"So you ran away?" Ron said a little angrily. Harry took a deep breath and gulped more of his whiskey. "What good did that do any of us, Harry? Do you have any idea how worried we all were? I mean, we didn't even know if you were alive!"
"I know," he said quietly. "And for that, I'm sorry."
"Harry, you still haven't told us what happened," Tonks said, looking pointedly at him. Her pink hair seemed the same as always, and he realized that it must have been her who healed him; he hadn't even realized that Fawkes had found his way upstairs to the bedroom Harry would inevitably make his. Harry sighed, followed by another gulp of whiskey.
"Funny how it stops burning the entire way down after a while," he mused, looking at the liquid in his glass. He didn't really want to have to remember it all at that moment; he didn't want to relive it all just yet. And at the same time, he couldn't figure a way out of telling them everything, knowing that telling them he didn't want to talk about it would never float.
"Don't change the subject," Ron said. Harry was a little surprised; he knew that Ron could be quick to anger, but he didn't remember him being this assertive before. Harry guessed that spending all the time he was sure Ron had with Hermione while he was away caused some changes. Harry looked up at him.
"Fine." He finished his glass off. "When I left, Voldemort sent all of his little minions chasing after me, just like I knew he would. I didn't really care, though; I just wanted to get him, even if I got myself killed in the process." He saw Hermione tense at this, but continued. "Before you even ask, no, I didn't kill him. And yes, I fought with Death Eaters - day in and day out."
"That's not really telling us much, Harry," Tonks said, a little more softly. "We can't go off and find them if you don't tell us who, exactly, you were fighting." He looked away and sighed, shaking his head slightly.
"After a while you don't remember their names; their faces all start to look the same - because that kind of evil shares one face, and you're not meant to remember its individuals." There was silence in the room following that, and he couldn't look at them. "That's all I remember," he finally added. For some reason, Hermione didn't believe him entirely; she believed that he might have a hard time recollecting exact names and faces, but that he didn't remember anything? That she didn't believe, and she knew him well enough to know when he was lying, for whatever reasons he may have.
"What?" Ron could hardly believe those words had left his mouth. "Harry, you're gone for three years - three years - and you don't remember what happened?"
"Ron, don't," Hermione said softly. He looked at her as if she had sprouted horns; he couldn't understand why she wasn't upset by this.
"Look, I'm sorry if that isn't what you wanted to hear but… I…" he shook his head again. "I just don't remember. I'm sorry."
"Perhaps we should call it a night, hmm?" Professor Lupin interjected, looking at Harry. Without a word he could see the gratitude in Harry's eyes. "We'll come and check on you tomorrow." He stood, Tonks following. "Do let the rest of the Weasley family know tomorrow that you're back, and that you're safe."
"He will," Ron said for him. "Because there is no way he's getting out of the yelling my Mum is going to give him." Lupin smiled, even if it was just a little.
"Alright then, Nymphadora and I will be by tomorrow. Try and sleep well, Harry." With that, they apparated, and were gone. They three of them sat in silence for a moment, and Ron and Hermione watched as Harry poured himself another glass of fire whiskey, and downed it fairly quickly.
"I think you've had enough, Harry," Hermione said as she stood and made her way over to him, taking the bottle from his hand. "I don't want you drunk on your first night back."
"Too late," he replied, looking up at her through cracked lenses, dark lashes and heavy lidded eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quietly and looked away. He couldn't bear looking at her, looking her in the face when he knew that the hurt he saw in her eyes was there because of him. She reached down, sliding her fingers under his chin and tilting his head up to look at her.
"I know," she said softly.
"Harry, none of the other stuff really matters," Ron said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "We're just glad that you're home, and that you're ok."
"Thanks, Ron." There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments in which Hermione took the opportunity to put the fire whiskey back on the mantle. They looked at one another waiting for someone to say something, or for Harry to move.
"Maybe you should get some rest," Hermione finally said, looking down at him. He remained sitting, staring down at his lap. Now that Lupin and Tonks were gone, he seemed to have resumed acting a bit like he had before they were there. Ron and Hermione didn't understand. "Harry?"
"I lied to you."
"What?" Ron didn't quite understand what Harry was talking about. "You lied to… about what?"
"I know," Hermione said softly, earning her a confused look from Ron and a sad glance from Harry.
"I remember everything."
"I know," she said again.
"But you just said that…" Ron was nowhere near stupid, but he was confused by this. He didn't understand how or why Harry could lie about the people - if they could be called such - that put him through hell. Ron just didn't understand why Harry wouldn't jump at the chance to give names.
"I know what I said, Ron," Harry said, somewhat impatiently. "I lied, alright?" He looked up at them both and sighed. "Look… I don't know all of their names; some of them I've never even seen before. But, I do know a few faces, and it's no one's fight but mine. I don't want you," Harry said pointedly as Hermione opened her mouth, "or anyone else chasing after those monsters."
"Can you at least talk to us, Harry?" Hermione asked softly. "I know you don't want to have to replay any of what happened to you, but… you can trust us. Please?"
There was so much to say. He didn't know where to begin, or how to even start at the beginning. He didn't know how much he should tell them or if he should just tell them everything - all of it with no modifications. He knew he would, at some point, but not tonight. Tonight he was tired, and weak, and he didn't have the strength to tell them everything. "This war is far from over," he said with absolute finality that made Ron shiver. Harry gestured for his two friends to sit on the sofa; what he had to say he didn't recommend hearing while standing. "You know the stories. You know how powerful Voldemort was when he killed my parents." They nodded. "He's just that strong now, if not stronger, and he's not going to just give up. He's going to do everything and anything he can to have the wizarding world in the palm of his hand - he'll kill anyone who gets in his way, and that doesn't just mean me."
"And his Death Eaters? Is that why Lupin said there was more activity among them?" Hermione asked and Harry nodded.
"There are more than there ever were, some younger than we are. Bellatrix LeStrange I remember clearly and she tried to kill me more than once, and I don't just mean in the past. Three nights ago she and I had a go; I'm not sure which one of us left with more damage. But she's the least of my worries," Harry said, suddenly wishing he still had the bottle of fire whiskey in his hand.
"You mean Voldemort?" Hermione said and Ron shuddered.
"Yes and no." He was quiet for a moment and ran his hands through his hair, realizing that his head was spinning more than just a little. "Lucius Malfoy is out of Azkaban."
"What?" Ron and Hermione spoke simultaneously, and then Ron continued. "How is that even possible? Harry, if Lucius Malfoy broke out of Azkaban the entire wizarding world would know. It would be the front page of the Daily Prophet! You're mental!"
"I wish my being mental was the case, but it's not. Lucius Malfoy is not in Azkaban - I know, because he tried to kill me last night. He's got one of his useless cronies impersonating him in Azkaban. And before you tell me I'm wrong, if Hermione could brew Polyjuice Potion in our second year at Hogwarts, then I'm sure Lucius Malfoy knows how to do it and get it to ever is in prison for him."
"This is insane," Ron said before Hermione had a chance to speak. "Next you're going to tell us you've had a nice little chat with Snape." At Harry's lack of response Ron snapped his head in his direction. "Don't even…"
"Snape is out there, too. I've seen him, but only briefly. He's smarter than we used to give him credit for. I have no doubt that he helped Malfoy with his little trick to get out of Azkaban - and it's not like the Ministry can depend on Dementors," he said the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth, "because Voldemort has them in his pocket, too."
"Harry, how long ago did you see Snape?" Hermione asked.
"It depends on which time you're asking about. The night Lucius Malfoy tried to off me for…" he shook his head "I've lost count, but Snape was there. I saw him. I don't know exactly what he was doing-"
"Oh I'm sure he was there for a cup of tea and to ask you how you were doing," Ron interrupted. "He was there to kill you, Harry."
"Maybe," Harry replied.
"Have you seen or heard anything about Draco Malfoy?" Hermione cut in before Ron could say anything more. This seemed to pique Ron's interest more than Snape.
"Have you killed him yet?" Ron asked, eyebrows raised almost in excitement. Hermione elbowed him, and he rubbed his arm where she'd hit and glowered at her.
"No I haven't killed him, Ron," Harry replied. He realized now that he was feeling very sick to his stomach, and reminded himself never to drink that many glasses of fire whiskey in so short a time span ever again. "And strangely, I haven't seen him once, or heard a word about him. This leads me to believe he is very well hidden by his father - or Voldemort - or he's already dead."
"I vote for dead," Ron interjected. Hermione tutted and shook her head.
"Really, Ron, killing everyone that works for Voldemort isn't the answer," she said annoyed.
"It isn't?" He replied, sounding thoroughly surprised.
"I find it odd, really, that not one of the Death Eaters I encountered was him or that none of them even made mention of him," Harry said. "It doesn't add up…" He leaned forward placing his head in his hands in an attempt to get the room to stop spinning wildly. Seeing that he obviously wasn't feeling well Hermione stood, motioning for Ron to do the same. He really hoped he wasn't going to throw-up.
"Harry, you've told us enough for tonight. We'll help you up to your room."
"I think Fawkes is already up there," Ron said. Harry looked up warily.
"Fawkes is here?"
"He healed all the wounds that Tonks couldn't," Hermione said softly. "I doubt that he'll be disappearing again any time soon; I think he's yours now Harry." She extended her hand and helped pull him out of the armchair, and before he had a chance to move she wrapped her arms around him tightly. For a moment he didn't move out of shock, but it wore off quickly and he easily and comfortably wrapped his arms around her in return, hugging her just as tightly. "I missed you so much," she whispered, holding back tears.
"I've missed you more than I can say," he whispered in return. They remained in their embrace for a few more moments before slowly pulling apart. Harry's cheeks were now a delicate shade of pink, not from hugging Hermione, but as a result of his slightly drunken state.
"Come on, mate," Ron said, urging him forward. "I'd like to get you up the stairs before you puke all over the place."
"Ron!" Hermione scolded and shook her head. "We'll walk you to your room, Harry."
"That sounds like a good idea, because I don't think I can walk up the stairs on my own." Ron smiled a little and shook his head, Harry walking between him and Hermione. It felt good, better than good to have Harry home again, but he knew that it didn't end there. Harry was home, yes, and he was alive and fairly ok, but he knew that Harry's words had been truer than he was willing to accept at the moment they had been spoken: This war was far from over. It was only just beginning.
-->