Author's Note: I just keep moving right along, don't I? Well, that's good, because I'm still a couple of chapters ahead of you. I'm writing as fast as I can, although today I'll be rather distracted by 400 miles of racing fun. Anyway, thanks for the reviews everyone and once again, thanks to Charmaine for being a great friend and beta.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
BREAKING THROUGH THE BARRIER
Peeves was cackling again. "You know, Potty, you played a nasty little prank on me today, telling me that the Bloody Baron was coming after me. I saw him. He had no interest in what I was doing and he certainly wasn't livid. I'm not very happy with you."
"Peeves, come on, it was only a joke. I didn't mean anything by it. Please, don't tell anyone about what you just saw," Harry pleaded.
"It would be quite wrong of me to keep it a secret, though," Peeves said seriously. "The school should know that the Head Boy likes to shove his tongue down the Head Girl's throat."
"I was not shoving my tongue down her throat," Harry said indignantly.
"Close enough, though," Hermione whispered.
"Still though, people ought to know that you two are together. There are bets on it, you see," Peeves said happily.
"Bets?" Harry said, tossing a bemused look over his shoulder at Hermione, who was also looking just as confused.
"Oh yeah. Even a few of the professors are in on it," Peeves said.
"Are you serious?" Harry said, staring at him.
"Does this look like a face that would lie to you?" Peeves said in a patronizing voice.
Harry scowled.
"Nope, I've got to tell everyone," Peeves said. "It's for your own good."
"Peeves, no!" Harry shouted as Peeves zoomed away. "DAMMIT!"
"There's nothing we can do about it now," Hermione said. "I think we both knew something like this was bound to happen."
Harry smacked his fist into the wall next to him out of frustration. "Yeah."
"Let's get back to the common room. We can do damage control in the morning," Hermione said, taking his hand in hers.
They walked hand-in-hand back to the common room, but Harry couldn't help but feel nervous. What if it got back to Voldemort that Hermione was his girlfriend? Would Harry's concerns become a reality? Would Voldemort single her out simply because she was closer to him than any other person?
They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "May flowers," Hermione said and the Fat Lady swung forward to admit them.
In the common room, everything was business as usual for the Gryffindors. Some where playing games, some were doing their homework or studying, while still others were talking to their friends.
Harry and Hermione spotted Ron sitting over at a table, doing his homework. They sat down with him.
"Hey," he said, glancing up at the two of them. "I see you found him."
"Of course I did," Hermione said.
"Did he tell you anything news worthy?"
"Voldemort's rather upset. That's all he could tell."
"Erm-excuse me? I'm right here," Harry said.
Hermione laughed.
"We've got more problems right now that the fact that Voldemort's feeling moody," Harry said to Ron. "Peeves caught us."
"Caught you? Doing what?"
"Snogging," Harry said in a low voice. "In the corridor."
"Why were you snogging in a corridor?" Ron asked. "Anybody could have happened along you."
"Well, Peeves happened along us," Hermione said. "By this time tomorrow, the whole school will know."
"And you're telling me this because…"
"Because we want you to be prepared in case anyone asks you about us," Harry said.
"Oh. Well, I'll just say that Peeves is a big fat liar and that they should know that," Ron said simply.
Hermione frowned and turned to Harry, who was nodding. "Harry, isn't it about time we let everyone know? This wasn't going to stay a secret forever. Quite frankly, I'm surprised it lasted this long."
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She was right, of course. There was no point in denying it. Eventually, he nodded his head. "Alright."
"Okay," Hermione said. "Ron, just tell them the truth. We've been going out since July."
Harry got up. "I think I'm going to go off to bed."
"Don't you have to finish your Transfiguration essay for tomorrow?" Ron asked.
"Yeah. I'll do it tomorrow morning after my run," he said, heading off toward the boys' dorm. He distinctively heard Ron say, "His run?" before he closed the door.
Harry changed into his pajamas and got ready for bed. Once his head hit the pillow, he couldn't help but wonder what the next day would be like when all of the students learned that he had been caught snogging Hermione. Moreover, he wondered how many of the Death Eater's sons would quickly write to their fathers to give this new information to them so that Voldemort could plan accordingly. And still there was a feeling of dread settling in his gut, knowing that Voldemort would be coming for him. The only question was, when?
As he drifted off to sleep, one final thought lingered in his mind. He had told Hermione everything, about his training, his ability, and how he could have been in Slytherin. How different would their relationship be if he had actually been a Slytherin? Would they even be friends? Would he even be the same person?
He found himself being poked awake. "Come on, Potter, let's go. You're going to be late to McGonagall's!" a drawling voice said.
Harry opened one eye. "Why'd you have to wake me up, you wanker?" he growled at Malfoy.
He only grinned. "Because as Head Boy you've got to look your best, don't you?" Malfoy said. "Come on, get up. Crabbe and Goyle have been up an hour already. Don't tell me you're lazier than them."
Harry sat up and put on his glasses. "Fine. Shut up already, would you?"
"Cranky this morning, aren't we?" Malfoy said with a smirk as he grabbed Harry's school robes and gave them to him.
Harry looked down at them. On them was the green and silver shield of Slytherin House with its serpent on it. Above it were Harry's Head Boy and Slytherin Quidditch Captain badges. "Go into the common room and wait for me," he ordered Malfoy. "I'll be along shortly."
Malfoy nodded. "Don't take too long."
Harry got dressed quickly and ran a hand through his hair. He walked over the mirror next to Malfoy's bed, where he pulled up the sleeve of his robes and admired for the umpteenth time the tattoo of a snake eating a phoenix on his upper arm. He spent more of his Galleons that summer and had it done, much to the admiration of his fellow Slytherins.
Yanking the sleeve back down, he grabbed his bag and strode out of the dormitory, headed up the stairs, and entered the Slytherin common room, where Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Pansy Parkinson stood to greet him.
"Where's Daphne?" he demanded.
"Oh, I don't think she'll be coming today," Pansy said in a simpering voice and grinning. "She's still in our dorm, moping, after last night."
"Fine, whatever. Let's go," Harry said, leading them out of the common room and into the dungeon. They marched through them. Other Slytherins flattened themselves against the wall to let them pass. They were not stupid enough to mess with Harry Potter.
When they reached the entrance hall, Pansy linked her hand with his. "So, I was thinking, Harry, that since you and Daphne broke up last night, you and I should give it a shot. I mean, we've never been together and you've date practically every girl in Slytherin House fifth year and up, not to mention those two girls from Hufflepuff and that one from Ravenclaw." She made a face. "But I was thinking that perhaps I might be the one you're looking for. What do you think, Harry?"
"Draco," Harry said, "get your ex-girlfriend off of me."
Malfoy reached over and grabbed Pansy by the shoulder. "Leave Harry alone, Pansy. He obviously doesn't want you. I imagine he's already got someone else in mind for his latest conquest, right?"
"Not quite," Harry said, "but I'm shopping."
Pansy looked rather put out as they arrived at Professor McGonagall's classroom. Harry and the others queued up behind Neville Longbottom, who gulped audibly at the sight of him. Harry ignored him.
Suddenly, the bushy-haired and large-toothed Hermione Granger stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. He frowned. "I'm not going to let you cut in line, Granger."
Hermione ignored this. "You missed last night's prefects' meeting, Potter. You, along with Malfoy and Parkinson."
Harry glanced back at Malfoy and grinned. "Dear me, we did, didn't we?" he said in a scandalized voice, causing his fellow Slytherins to laugh. "Granger, I am beyond sorry. See, we were rather busy. I was dumping poor Daphne Greengrass. Turns out she wasn't my type of girl. She had no skill whatsoever at-"
"I don't want to hear about it," Hermione said, cutting him off. "This is the tenth prefect meeting you've missed, Potter."
"Well, see, here's the thing. I'm not a prefect anymore, Granger. I'm Head Boy. That makes me better than the prefects," Harry said.
Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and stormed away to the front, leaving the Slytherins laughing and Harry smirking.
"Merlin, that Mudblood has got the biggest stick shoved up her ass!" Malfoy said loudly.
The smirk fell away from Harry's face. He turned to Malfoy. "What have I told you about using that word, Draco?"
Malfoy's laughter died away. He gulped. "Sorry, Harry."
Class was boring. McGonagall lectured them for a full fifteen minutes on their upcoming N.E.W.T.s and then had the students begin to Transfigure wooden dummies into a creature of their choice. Harry was pretty good at this considering that he did it to a second year the other day who was sitting in his favorite chair in the common room. Then he let Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle take the squeaking, struggling mouse of a second year to the bathroom and threaten to flush him down the toilet.
As always, Hermione Granger transfigured her dummy into a frog faster than he could turn his into a macaw. When it came to any class, there was a sort of race between them to see who could do what the professor assigned the fastest. Sometimes he came out first and she came out second. Other times (to Harry's great irritation), she beat him. Generally speaking, though, she beat him in Transfiguration while Harry wiped the floor with her in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Everyone had their strengths and weaknesses. Harry wondered what her nonacademic ones were.
Well, there was always a way to find out.
"Granger," he said after class, walking up to her with a purposeful stride. "Tell me something, how did you transfigure that dummy so fast?"
"Why do you care?" Hermione asked, scowling at him.
"Because I want to achieve an 'Outstanding' on my Transfiguration N.E.W.T.," he said.
"You'll already achieve an 'Outstanding.' You don't need my help," she said.
"I'd still like it," he said. "Tell you what, we'll make it a fair trade. I'll give you a little extra practice for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Maybe then you'll stand a chance against me at this year's Dueling Contest."
"You are exceedingly arrogant, Potter. Why would I want to work with you?" she asked.
"Because I'm offering to help you get better in a subject that you obviously aren't the best at. Don't you want to be known as She-Who-Knocked-Potter-Flat-On-His-Ass?" he asked, grinning at her.
"Not really, no," she said stiffly.
"Have it your way, then. I was hoping for a challenge," he said, shrugging. "Meanwhile, I'll just put some actual effort in Transfiguration. Shouldn't take me long to match you in speed." He headed back toward where Malfoy was standing. "I am surprised, though, that you won't help a fellow student in need, Granger. I thought you were better than that."
He started out the door with Malfoy. "What was that all about?" he asked.
Harry shook his head. "Three…two…one…"
"Potter!" Hermione called behind them.
Harry grinned momentarily before turning back around to face her. "Yes, Granger?"
"Very well, then. Library, seven o'clock."
"I've got a better spot. Meet me in front of Barnabas the Barmy's tapestry on the seventh floor at seven-thirty," he said.
"Fine," she said and left.
"What are you doing, meeting with Buck Teeth?" Malfoy asked when they were out of earshot.
"I've found my latest victim, Draco. My latest conquest," Harry said, heading toward their next class.
"What? Her?" Malfoy said, looking disgusted. "You'd shag a-"
"Of course not," Harry snapped. "I'm just sick and tired of her kicking my ass in Transfiguration. So I'm going to teach her a little lesson on why one doesn't mess with Harry Potter."
Malfoy sneered. "What are you going to do?"
"Oh, you'll find out," he said, grinning, walking into their next class.
All of his classes were very boring that day. He kept plotting over what he was going to do to Hermione. He knew that he wanted to humiliate her.
"Draco, be up on the seventh floor by seven o'clock, got it? And bring my invisibility cloak," he ordered Malfoy at dinner.
"No problem," Malfoy said.
At exactly seven-thirty, Hermione rounded the corner on the seventh floor to meet him. Harry smiled at her.
"I'm glad you came, Granger. I thought you wouldn't."
"I said I'd come, so I'm here," she said. "So why did you want to meet me here, of all places?"
His smiled widened. "Watch," he said.
He paced up and down the corridor, thinking, I need a place to talk to Granger, but it has to be big enough to duel in. On his third pass, a door appeared, causing Hermione to gasp.
Harry pulled opened the door to reveal a study filled with books. There was a couch off to one side, but the middle held plenty of room for them to duel.
Hermione stepped inside and looked around, amazed. "I never knew there was a room like this at Hogwarts."
"Yeah, well, I imagine there's quite a bit that nobody knows about this school. It's got a bunch of secrets," Harry said, closing the door behind them.
Hermione turned around and stared at him. "Why have you brought me here?"
He laughed. "Don't act so suspicious, Granger. This is the best place to practice dueling in all of Hogwarts. That's what we're here for, isn't it?"
She shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, I suppose."
Harry scratched at his chin stubble. He hadn't shaved for a couple of days. "Well, let's get started, shall we?"
They took their places. Harry gave her a curt bow, which she returned, before both of them held their wands high. Harry waited-
"Tarantal-"
"Impedimenta!" he shouted, freezing her. He waited the few minutes it took before the spell wore off. "Try again."
Hermione frowned. "Petrificus T-"
"Locomotor Mortis!" When her legs snapped together, Harry waved his wand, thinking the countercurse to himself. "Try again."
Hermione's face was pink. "Furnunculus!"
"Protego!" he yelled, sending the curse back at her. She ducked just in time. "One more time. Try something with a bit more to it."
She glared at him. "Stupe-"
"Expelliarmus," he said lazily and her wand flew out of her hand. He sighed. "Well, I applaud you for trying to Stun me."
She looked furious. "You never let me get the words out of my mouth!"
"That's because you say them far too slowly," Harry said. "That's the thing about dueling-you've got to be quick. Even then I was being kind to you by verbalizing my spells. I won't be so kind in the contest."
He walked over to her. "Now, about that Stunner. I noticed you were about to wave your wand-don't. It's more of a poke, like this." He poked his wand toward the wall, demonstrating. When she merely glared at him, he rolled his eyes and took her hand in his down, demonstrating it again.
"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione asked, flabbergasted, as she snatched her hand back.
"Helping you," he said, glancing up at her face. "Could you please stop looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" she said aggressively.
"Like I'm about to put you in the Full Body Bind and leave you here." He stepped behind her and took her hand in his again. "Now, like I was saying, it's more of a poke. But your body has to be twisted to the side a bit to give your arm plenty of room to maneuver while you're dueling," he said, putting one hand on her shoulder and the other on her waste, feeling every inch of her stiffen as he moved her. He grinned to himself before he put a look of concern on his face and stepped in front of her. "What's wrong?"
"What? Nothing," she said far too quickly.
"Yes there is," he said. "Come on, Hermione, out with it."
She blinked in surprise. "Did you just call me Hermione?"
"Well, that is your name, isn't it?" he said.
"Yes, but…you never call me Hermione. Very few actually do," she said, looking off to the side.
"Well, to be fairly honest with you, I've always found Hermione to be quite an interesting name. Different, but good." He shrugged. "The reason why I don't call you by your first name, usually, is because you're not a close friend of mine." She was still very tense. "Tell you what, you can call me Harry from now on, if you'd like."
She looked up at him, surprised. Then, she suddenly backed away from him.
"Now what's wrong?" he asked.
"Why are you being nice?" she asked him. "You're never nice."
He frowned. "That's the way my friends want me to be. If I'm nice, then I get chucked out of the social circle. I mean, before Hogwarts, I never really had any friends."
She blinked. "You?"
"Yeah. My cousin always kept people from liking me. They feared him, so they stayed away from me," he said darkly.
"I never knew that about you," she said.
"No one does," he said. "All my friends know is that I hate those Muggles that I live with. That's all. They don't care why I do. They just figure it's because they're Muggles."
She stepped toward him, then stepped back. "I'm-erm-really sorry."
He stared at her. "Why are you afraid of being near me, Hermione?"
"Er-"
"Have you ever been close to a boy before?"
She grimaced. "Well, no…"
He raised an eyebrow. "I can help you there, too, if you'd like."
"How-"
Before she could utter another word, he crossed the five steps between them and kissed her. Just as she succumbed to him, a flash went off from the corner and Malfoy pulled off Harry's invisibility cloak, laughing.
Harry stepped back, laughing too. "Good job, Draco. We'll get that developed right away hand it out to people. Which caption do you like better? 'Hermione Granger: That Desperate,' or 'Hermione Granger: Gryffindor Whore?'"
Hermione stood there, horrified, with tears streaming down her face. "You vile…you horrible…you…"
"Shut up, Granger," Harry said. "Let's go, Draco. We've got work to do."
The last thing he heard before slamming the door was Hermione sobbing.
"Harry! Wake up!" someone was yelling above him.
Harry jerked awake and blinked as the sun hit his eyes. Ron was standing over him, looking annoyed.
"About time!" he said. "I've been calling your name for the past minute."
"It's morning?" Harry asked.
"Er-yeah."
"I was only dreaming?" Harry said, panting.
"I guess so. Harry-are you okay?" Ron asked.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "I'm loads better now that I'm awake."
"Bad dream, eh?"
"A nightmare," Harry said, pulling himself up. "A horrible nightmare."
"Well, glad it's over. Now come on, breakfast started five minutes ago!" Ron said.
"Right. I'll be down shortly."
That dream was vivid, far too vivid for Harry's liking. Not for the first time in his life, he was very happy that he wasn't a Slytherin.
*****
"Harry, you look dreadful," Hermione said when Harry arrived down in the Great Hall fifteen minutes later. "What happened?"
"Bad dream," Harry mumbled and forked up a couple pieces of bacon.
"About what?" she asked.
"About what would have happened if I had chosen the wrong path," he said, hoping she understood him.
Thankfully, her eyes lit up in understanding. "I see."
He poured himself a glass of milk. "So, does it seem like Peeves has told a bunch of people yet?" he asked.
"No, although I did get a few people staring at me on the way down," Hermione said. She looked up as hundred of owls swooped in delivering mail. "I'm sure word will be out in full force by the end of the day."
A brown owl landed in front of her with that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. She paid for it and opened it up. "No!" she cried.
"What?" Harry and Ron said in unison.
"He sent the Death Eaters to France," she said, dropping the Prophet onto the table so that each of them could read it.
DEATH EATERS IN CALAIS
In a surprise move, You-Know-Who's followers attacked the French city of Calais, which is situated southeast across the English Channel from Dover.
The attack began at 11:30 last night. Survivors spoke of a large fire, along with numerous flashes of green light before the Dark Mark was shot into the sky.
Of the 39 people killed, eight of them were wizards.
"This is a most horrible day," said the French Minister of Magic, Guillaume Dillé, from his office in Paris. "We had hoped that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would not bring his war over here to France. As it is, we are having giant trouble in the Pyrenees."
Guerriers (French Aurors) were unable to capture any of the Death Eaters. They had escaped by the time the Guerriers arrived.
Harry frowned. "Well, it's official. He's expanding his war."
"I thought Belfast was a bit of a reach," Ron said, frowning.
"Belfast is still part of Great Britain," Hermione said. "Just because it's in Northern Ireland doesn't mean anything. He'll probably attack another Irish town eventually."
"God, I hope not," Harry said, but he knew that it was a feeble hope. Voldemort would probably attack another town the following week.
"Harry, since you didn't get up this morning in time, I decided to help you just this once and finished your homework for you," Hermione said, pointing to his bag. "You had better hurry up and copy down what I wrote."
"Right," he said, popping another strip of bacon into his mouth. "Thanks."
Harry quickly copied down what Hermione had written out for him before she nudged him and said, "We've got to go to Transfiguration."
"One…second…there," he said, finishing up and throwing his stuff back in his bag. "Let's go."
They got up and headed to the entrance hall. A bunch of students were already out there, chatting with their friends, or heading off to class.
When Pansy Parkinson, who was standing off toward the entrance to the dungeons, saw them, she shrieked, "Is it true, Potter? Is it true that you're dating the Beaver?"
Everyone who was in the entrance hall or heading up the marble staircase suddenly stopped and turned to listen in.
Harry frowned. "What beaver? I don't see any beavers in here," he said.
Pansy laughed. "The one standing next to you, of course."
Harry turned his head toward Ron, then turned it toward Hermione. "Hmm…apparently you need to get your eyes checked, Parkinson. There aren't any beavers standing next to me."
Everyone in the entrance hall laughed. People were now coming out of the Great Hall to hear what all the commotion was about.
Pansy stuck out her tongue in a very mature fashion. "I heard that you were snogging Granger last night on the seventh floor. I thought you had better taste than that!"
"I think my taste is just fine, thank you," he said, causing Hermione to grin.
"So it's true?" Pansy asked.
He turned his head toward Hermione as those in the entrance hall stood, staring at him and Hermione with looks of wonder, interest, and amusement on their faces. He sighed. "Enough of the charade, right?" he murmured to her.
She nodded. "Enough of the charade."
With a small grin, he bent his head and kissed her fully on the lips, causing those in the entrance hall to cheer and whistle. More and more people were piling out of the Great Hall to see what was going on.
Finally, Harry broke the kiss, feeling slightly pleased with himself, yet also slightly nervous. He looked around the entrance hall. "Was that enough of a show for you?" he asked. People laughed. "Good, now move it, you lot! Class starts in five minutes!"
They headed up the marble staircase themselves. "How was that for public displays of affection?" Harry asked.
Ron laughed. "I think the whole of Hogwarts will be talking about that one for a few days."
"Good. I'm so pleased," Harry said sardonically and led the way to McGonagall's class.
*****
That evening, after Harry and Dumbledore had spent a good two hours practicing Occlumency, Harry sat down in front of him, feeling rather exhausted.
"You are doing very, very well, Harry," Dumbledore said. There was a look of pride in his sparking blue eyes. "I feel that pretty soon you will no longer need my help."
"Thank you, sir," Harry said. He frowned. "Sir? I have a question."
"Then by all means, ask it," Dumbledore said with a smile.
"I've been wondering why we haven't tackled that mental barrier I've got in my head since the first time we tried? I think I'm ready for it. I can handle the pain," he said.
Dumbledore sighed. "You have named the precise reason why I have not wanted to do it again. I do not want to cause you pain, Harry."
"But this must be valuable information toward the war if Voldemort sought to keep it from me. If we were able to uncover it, then wouldn't that somehow help us?" Harry asked.
"Yes, I'm sure it would, but I have wondered-constantly-whether or not the information is worth the risk," he said.
"What risk?" Harry asked.
"You see, Harry, invading your mind quickly like that, trying to search through your memories as though they're file folders, can lead to some devastating effects on the brain. I fear that if I went too far or tried too hard, you might end up in the Janus Thickey ward in St. Mungo's."
"Isn't that the ward that Neville's parents are in? That Professor Lockhart's in?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore nodded grimly. "It is the ward for irreversible spell damage."
"Right. I remember," Harry said, his insides squirming. He definitely didn't want to end up there.
"So you see why I have been hesitating," Dumbledore said. "Keeping you sane is much more important than whatever it is that Voldemort's up to."
"I'd like you to try, though," Harry said. "I think I'm made of stronger stuff than that."
Dumbledore chuckled. "You are certainly strong, Harry." He was silent for several moments, apparently lost in thought. "Very well. We shall try again."
Harry nodded and opened up his mind to Dumbledore, trying to make it easier on him. After all, the brain damage probably occurred to those trying to force a Legilimens out of their mind.
"On three, then. One-two-three-Legilimens!"
He was standing on the edge of the lake with a hundred dementors closing in on him…he was gazing at Hermione as she stepped into the common room, ready to attend the Yule Ball with him…he was standing before Voldemort and his Death Eaters, his wand raised…he was in a dark room, punishing the Death Eater Addams…he was punishing Warrington…THWACK!
Harry gripped the arms of his chair, fighting back against the pain as Dumbledore was ejected from his mind.
"Yes, that was to be expected," Dumbledore said, rubbing his temple slightly. "Shall we try again?"
Harry nodded. "Just do it."
"One-two-three-Legilimens!"
He was standing in front of the Death Eaters, asking for volunteers to go to Egypt…Lucius Malfoy was speaking to him…he was watching as the Silenced Seth screamed in Bellatrix Lestrange's arms…Flint, Montague, and Warrington were begging for forgiveness…THWACK!
"ARGH!" Harry cried, holding his head in his hands.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.
"I'm fine. Again!" Harry demanded.
Dumbledore frowned. "One-two-three-Legilimens!"
Warrington was begging for him to be merciful…Flint was on his knees, explaining something to him…THWACK!
"GOD!" Harry cried, feeling as though his head was about to explode from the pain.
"Harry!" Dumbledore was at his side, his face paler than Harry had ever seen. "Breathe!"
Harry inhaled deeply, held it for a moment, and then exhaled. He repeated this several more times until the pain began to fade. "Again," he said.
"I think I'm getting close," Dumbledore said softly.
"Good, let's break through this barrier," he said, gritting his teeth.
Dumbledore didn't even sit back down. Swiftly, before Harry could even blink, he pointed his wand at Harry and shouted, "LEGILIMENS!"
He was speaking to Flint, Montague, and Warrington, who were on their hands and knees before him…he was using the Cruciatus Curse on Warrington…Flint was explaining to him what happened on their long journey, why it had taken so long…the three of them jumped up and ran out the door…Flint and Montague opened the door and bowed deeply, admitting an old man into the room who used a twisted black cane that looked like and Egyptian asp with eyes that looked like scarab beetles…
Harry was in an extraordinary amount of pain. His skull felt like it were about to split in two. His brain felt like it was about to melt. He knew that he was screaming, but he felt Dumbledore push farther into his mind. The images continued to swim in front of him.
Flint presented the old man to him, calling him Imhotep Rameses…he was talking to Rameses, who was smiling…he was mentioning a number of languages, a list that Rameses only added to…Rameses was asking him what exactly he wanted cursed…he was walking out of the room…he ordered Flint to return to Egypt to pick up Rameses's apprentice…he was touching his finger to his head…
Harry was sure his scream had reached a deafening pitch as Dumbledore suddenly released him. Harry slumped over his chair, tears streaming down his face. He felt as though his brain had been skewered in over thirty different places.
Shaking hands took hold of him by the shoulders. "Harry, it's over. It's all over. I got through. Can you walk, Harry? You need to go to Madam Pomfrey. She'll have something for your pain."
Harry was trembling all over. He just wanted to fall to the floor and die. Anything to get rid of the pain.
Above him, Dumbledore closed his eyes. "I'm sure you'll forgive me for this, Harry. In fact, you might even thank me. Stupefy!"
Suddenly, Harry's world went black.