Chapter Five
Burn Out
Tonks proved to be timely in her instruction; she and Remus arrived the morning after Harry received his letter from them. Unlike Snape, she took time to explain to him the importance of Occlumency, and exactly what leaning it entailed. He felt at ease with her; he didn't feel the dread of learning as he had with Snape. They spent time talking at length about the training and when they were finished Hermione, Ron, and Remus went to the library to continue looking up any information they could find to help Harry in his fight; Harry and Tonks excused themselves to an unoccupied bedroom on the second floor of the house.
"I'm not sure I understand what we're doing today," Harry said as she closed the door behind them. With her wand she moved furniture to clear the center of the room, and left two pillows on the floor.
"First, sit," she said, pointing to a pillow. They both moved to a pillow and sat down. "Are you comfortable?" He nodded. "The first thing you need to learn how to do before we can do anything else is relax."
"Relax?" he said skeptically. "Anybody can relax, Tonks."
"No, that's not entirely true. By relax, I mean you need to learn to completely clear your mind. It needs to be blank."
"You're teaching me how to mediate?" he questioned. She seemed to think about this for a moment, and nodded slightly.
"You could call it that," she said. She set her wand down beside her, folding her legs beneath her. "Go ahead and put your wand down. You won't need it." He remembered briefly when Tom Riddle told him he wouldn't need his wand. He set it down beside him but within reaching distance, making sure that it was easily accessible if necessary. It didn't go unnoticed by her, but she said nothing.
"What now?" he asked.
"Get comfortable," she said. "Now, I want you to close your eyes. Don't think about any," she said and he found that, suddenly, her voice was very soothing. "You're safe here with me, Harry." He didn't nod, but he understood that she understood. "I want you to clear your mind, and picture a white light - any way you want it to look, but a white light." He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to rid his mind from any other thoughts he might have and concentrate on his white light.
Hermione took another book from the stack beside her, Remus and Ron sitting across from her. She glanced up, seeing Ron reading intently. There was a small sort of amazement at the lengths they would go to help each other; to anyone else Ron reading might not mean anything, but to her, knowing that he was reading for Harry and for Harry's cause, it meant something more than she thought it would.
"Ron," she said quietly, causing both of them to look up. "Thank you."
He sat staring at her for a moment and then shook his head slightly. "You don't need to thank me, Hermione. Harry doesn't need to thank me. He's risked his life so many times… The least I can do is read a book or two, or ten, to help his chances." She reached a hand across the table and took his, squeezing gently. In Remus' eyes was a soft glow of admiration - he remembered the days when he had his best friends, when they were so dedicated to one another as this, when they would have risked their lives for each other, and he missed them terribly.
"Hold on to that," he said softly, causing both of them to look at him. "What you three have, hold on to that. Don't ever, ever let that go."
Ron spoke before Hermione had the chance to. "We never will," he said.
"Good," Remus replied softly. "You three need to be strong for and protect each other. When this war is at its peak, everything will feel like it's crashing down around you. You need to be there for each other. I'm not just saying this only because I care for you; I'm saying this because I know. I was there for the first war, and I know what that was like. This will be no easier; this will be much worse."
"You have us, too, you know," Hermione said quietly. "We'll be here for all of the people we love." He smiled softly at her and nodded, letting go of their hands.
"I think we will come out of this alright," Remus said quietly. "Yes, I think we will." He returned his eyes to the reading in front of him. Ron and Hermione shared a passing glance that spoke volumes before returning to their own work.
Remus and Tonks didn't leave until late in the evening. They had all worked through lunch, and were late returning to the sitting room around dinner time. Harry was drained in all aspects; he never realized that trying to keep a constantly clear mind for hours could be so tiring. Both Ron and Hermione had headaches from reading nonstop for hours and hours. Remus and Tonks were both tired and hungry, and left with promise of returning the next day to pick up where everyone had left off. Hermione sat down beside Harry on the sofa and Ron leaned up against the fireplace.
"I have to have other training as well," Harry said. "I need to learn Occlumency properly and apparently I need to have proper training in dueling, and other sorts of combat, as Tonks put it. She wants the both of you to have training as well." They looked up at him.
"What kind of training?" Ron asked, moving to sit in the armchair.
"She wants you both to be able to block anyone from entering your minds, and she wants to make sure you're both able to fight if it comes down to it," he answered. "I'll be training with Tonks a few hours every day, and the two of you will be training with her an hour or so a couple times a week."
"I suppose it's best to have all our bases covered, Harry. We don't want to chance anything," Hermione said as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "Who's going to be instructing us in physical training?"
"Kingsley Shacklebolt," he answered. "The physical aspect of it we'll be training all together. And Ron, you might want to get a hold of your brothers and Ginny - they could benefit from some of that training, too." Ron looked at him speculatively. "It's just for safe measure. I don't plan on involving them in any fighting to be done, don't worry. It's just better to be safe than sorry."
"You're right," he said sighing. It was obvious he was as tired as Harry and Hermione. "I'll owl them first thing in the morning." He cleared his throat. "Will you, uh, be alright with Ginny around, mate? I mean, uh, well you know…" he shrugged and Harry smiled a little. He and Hermione looked at one another in understanding.
"I'll be fine, Ron," he replied. "Thanks for asking, but I'll be just fine." Ron nodded.
"Well let's get a spot of supper then," he replied. "I'm starving and I'm tired."
"When are you not starving, Ronald?" Hermione asked, watching as Harry stood and extended his hand to help her to her feet. They chuckled.
"Reading works up an appetite," he defended. "I swear. I could eat just about anything right now."
"Somehow, Ron, I don't find that hard to believe," Harry replied looking at him. They shared easy laughter as they entered the kitchen. Harry found himself wishing it could stay this way, this easy. He knew, from the burning in his scar he purposely had failed to mention to any of them, that this easiness, this comfortableness would be gone all too soon.
Ron decided after dinner that it was best to let his family know sooner rather than later about training, leaving Harry and Hermione sitting on the sofa, fire blazing in the fireplace. He was watching the firelight in her glass; he'd learned recently that she had a taste for wines, specifically for Basserat de Bellefon Brut Rosé Champagne. He had smiled when she went into detail about the flavour balance. He sat just watching the light reflecting in her glass for some time, neglecting his own in his hand.
"This isn't going to be easy, is it?" She asked finally, breaking their comfortable silence. She looked over at him and waited for an answer. He looked away.
"No," he replied quietly, tilting his own glass in the firelight. "It's going to be harder than we ever imagined, Hermione."
"I never imagined living through it," she said sipping her wine. He looked pointedly at her; she could feel his eyes on her and tried to ignore it until she couldn't anymore and looked back at him.
"Don't say things like that," he said. "You'll get through this just fine. This is going to be… I don't even know the right words to explain it, Hermione, but think about what it means afterward. We can live when this is over." He watched her take another sip from her glass, watching the rose coloured liquid as it touched her lips and receded.
"I know," she finally said softly. "I know, Harry. It's just…it's hard to be optimistic sometimes."
"Believe me, I know."
"This training we're all going to get, I think it's a good idea. I mean, if we say we're all in this together, we all need to have the training to actually do so."
"It's going to be rough," he said, feeling his eyelids growing heavy. "Between the mental and emotional and the physical training with Shacklebolt… We're going to be drained."
"It'll be worth it in the end," she replied.
"It will be," he agreed quietly. He finished the last few sips of wine in his glass and settled to watch her take her time with her own. When she finished he took her glass from her and placed them both on the mantle above the fireplace. He sat back down beside her, slightly surprised when she moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"I have faith in you," she said softly. His arm came to rest gently around her shoulders and his cheek came to rest on her head. "I've always had faith in you - in us, all of us, Harry." He wanted to say something but he found he couldn't speak. His eyes had closed of their own volition and he could feel Hermione breathing softly and evenly against him. She was already asleep and he was quick to follow. The burning in his scar would wait until morning.
Harry and Ron sat at the kitchen table eating cornflakes, oblivious to the fact Hermione had come into the room, hair still wet from her late shower. She stood watching them for a moment as they ate, one hand occupied with a spoon and the other with a paper; Harry was reading the Daily Prophet and Ron was reading the Quibbler. Somehow, she wasn't surprised with this sight, and a slight smile graced her lips, because for that moment the gravity of everything didn't matter. These were her boys, her best friends, and for that one moment they didn't hurt, they weren't in any immediate danger, and they were just as they used to be. There were some things that never changed, and then there were the things that one wished would never change.
"Lovely reading material, Ronald," she said, stifling a laugh as she startled him and he spilled a spoonful of cornflakes and milk in his lap.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," he said shaking his head. "Make some noise when you come in a room, would you?" Harry grinned, chewing his cereal and glancing at Ron, and giving Hermione a look of approval. "It's not funny, Harry. The woman is going to give me a heart attack, I swear it."
"Rubbish," Harry replied grinning. "The most you'll get is a weak bladder. And believe me Ron; I'm going to be there with a camera when Hermione makes you wet yourself." Hermione snorted with laughter. He looked at her, noticing she had envelopes in her hands. "What's that you've got?"
"Oh," she replied looking down at her hands, "mail. Word spreads fast that you've returned."
"Who are the letters from?" Ron asked.
"We have… there is one from Neville, one from Luna," she smiled at Ron. He scowled and went back to his cornflakes. "She fancies Ron," she said smiling.
"Shut up, Hermione," he said into his food, his face turning crimson.
"They are all for you, Harry," she said. "There is one from Fred and George, and one from Ginny. Oh, and I cannot forget your Howler from Mrs. Weasley." She smiled, Ron smiled, and Harry paled.
"What?"
"Glad I'm not you mate," Ron said trying to hold back laughter.
"Relax, Harry," she said, "I was only kidding. You don't have any howlers."
"Bloody hell, Hermione," he echoed Ron's words. "I think you almost killed me and almost made me wet myself at the same time." She and Ron laughed, and she brought all of Harry's mail to him. He picked up all the envelopes, just staring at them for a few moments. "I've been thinking," he said. "Luna and Neville risked their lives in our fifth year at the department of mysteries… I think they should be a part of the New Order." Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. "And Fred and George, and Ginny - we're all old enough now to do this and do it right."
"I agree with you, Harry," Hermione said. "They deserve just as much as anyone to be a part of this."
"Why my sister?" Ron asked. "I know she's growing up, Harry, but…she's still my little sister…" Harry hated the pained look on Ron's face.
"I promise you, I won't let anything happen to her," he said. "Things may not have worked out the way we thought it would, but I still care for her Ron - I feel like she's my little sister, too."
"We'll keep each other safe," Hermione said, looking between them.
"I don't want this to be happening, Harry," Ron said quietly.
"Neither do I, Ron," he replied. "But we can't pretend this isn't happening. If we want to live, and if we want to save all the people we love, this has to happen and it has to happen now."
"I'll write them," Hermione said. "I'll tell them to come here when they can, and we'll figure things out." She took with her the letters, a mug of tea, and went out to the sitting room. Harry could see her from the kitchen begin to write the letters one-by-one. He looked at Ron, who was staring down at his food.
"I'm sorry," he offered, not sure of what else to say.
"Don't be sorry, Harry," Ron replied. "You shouldn't be. I know you're right; we have to do this. Better sooner than later, right?" Harry nodded a little.
"Everyone is going to pull through this just fine, Ron," Harry said. "We've got the most capable people in the world teaching us. We'll be alright." Harry was no longer sure if he was trying to convince Ron or himself, maybe both. Ron nodded.
"Come on," he said standing, his red hair a mess. "Since she's writing to everyone, I guess we can clean up in here." Normally Harry would make a crack about Ron cleaning, but somehow it just wasn't right at this moment. Thoughts of Voldemort, and fighting, of the New Order invaded everything else. He wasn't sure he could handle all of this at once - that any of them could handle all of this at once. It was beyond having the choice anymore.
The New Order gathered it's members quickly, knowing that staying close together meant better tactics, better chances of survival, and less chances of being attacked. It was quickly decided on which nights they would meet, who was to be called in an emergency, and what to do if they were found out. Everything was covered, and the training began. They knew it would be hard, but Harry's training was particularly grueling. The mental aspect left him weaker; the physical aspect left him bruised, cut, bleeding, often times too worn out to even see straight. Both Ron and Hermione were tiring quickly as well. This task was harder than they had anticipated, and it was beginning to show. Hermione watched as Shacklebolt fired curse after curse at Harry, watched as Harry struggled to avoid them, send them or something worse back. She watched Ron struggle with it as well, trying so hard to be up to Shacklebolt's standards. But they were quickly wearing thin. Hermione suggested easing up a bit, that training this hard was doing more harm than good; Harry was too stubborn to listen, as it had almost always been. She watched and watched, and watched curses and hexes flying at him. It was only a matter of time before he got hurt, she knew. She was right. She hadn't heard what Shacklebolt had used to curse Harry, but she watched him crumple at the opposite end of the room, crying out in something she knew had to be excruciating pain.
"Stop it!" she screamed. "Stop it! That's enough! Can't you see this isn't helping anyone?" she yelled at Shacklebolt. He lowered his wand, panting, watching as she and Ron rushed over to Harry, lying on the floor and gasping for air. "Harry?"
"Bloody hell, what's wrong with him, Hermione?" Ron asked her, the worry on his face evident and well read. She quickly checked over him, bypassing several cuts and scrapes, several bruises and minor burns. She carefully tried to pull up the leg of his jeans. His scream was so loud, so intense she fell backward in astonishment, her heart pounding in his chest.
"What did you do?" she screamed at Shacklebolt. Getting back to her place she looked for herself. "You've broken his leg!" She screamed at him, her eyes flashing with fury. "What is wrong with you Kingsley? You're supposed to be teaching him, not torturing him!"
"Do you think Voldemort is going to cast a tickling charm? Do you? He's going to torture Harry if he gets the chance, torture him until he begs for death."
"Hermione, he's shaking bad," Ron said looking down at Harry.
"He's in shock," she said. She looked up at Kingsley, her eyes flashing. "Go and get Tonks," she said through gritted teeth. "Get her now, and tell her she needs to heal him."
"I don't think she can heal that, Hermione," Ron replied, looking pale.
"She's an Auror, Ronald. She can heal him."
"She's rubbish at healing charms of this magnitude," Kingsley said, now looking much more remorseful, guilty even.
"I…can't…" Harry gasped. "This is…too much." His lips were tinged with blue and his skin was ashen. He was shaking. Hermione carefully slid behind him, lifting his head to rest in his lap and gently running her fingers through his hair.
"Shh," she hushed softly. "It will be different from now on," she said. "There are better ways to do this." He grimaced.
"Oh god…" he moaned. Ron was staring at the bone sticking through his best friend's skin. "Do… s-something." His teeth were chattering viciously.
"Ron, get a blanket," she said. "And then I want you to apparate out of here and get Luna. You know she can heal him better than any of us could." Ron nodded, standing and leaving to get the blanket.
"Harry," Shacklebolt said. "I, uh, I didn't mean for this," he said gesturing to Harry's leg.
"I… k-know," he stammered.
"What happened?" They all looked up to find Remus standing there. "Kingsley, you're supposed to be teaching him, not trying to kill or maim him." He stared disapprovingly at the man now crouched by Harry.
"It w-was an a-accident," Harry managed to stutter out.
"He's in shock," she told him as she'd told Ron. "Ron is getting a blanket and then he's going to get Luna. She can heal him."
"Yes, she can," Remus agreed. "She has a gift for it." He knelt down beside Harry. "Nothing is ever simple with you, is it?" he asked with a hint of a smile. Harry gave an awkward grin.
"N-Never."
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