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The Power He Knows Not by SpecialK220
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The Power He Knows Not

SpecialK220

Chapter 3: The Locket

He laid on his back, his eyes wide open, his mind swimming with thoughts. He wondered what his dreams meant, if they even meant anything at all. Was Ron right? What if it was Voldemort, placing these images in his mind like he had done several years ago. Perhaps he was trying to frighten Harry, reminding him of the consequences of dealing with the dark wizard. Or perhaps it was completely unrelated and had nothing to do with Voldemort. Harry lied awake for the rest of the night, staring at the ceiling, not knowing that in the room next to his, his best friend was doing the same.

***

"Harry, I think you should practice Occlumency again," Hermione announced over breakfast the next morning. She bit her lip anxiously as she waited for his response.

Harry just shrugged, shoving a piece of toast in his mouth.

"I mean, with you having those dreams again…" Hermione said anxiously. "I think it would be good to prepare…you know, just in case."

"Yeah, well, who's going to train me?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's not like I can go back to Snape." He said his former professor's name bitterly.

"Well…no," Hermione said, looking down at her breakfast. "But, I've been studying Occlumency all summer and I think I know the basics. I at least know the Legiliment spell that would allow me to get inside your mind, which will make you practice blocking me out. I will not be able to teach you like Snape or Dumbledore could, but practicing would reinforce your skills and help you to block out Voldemort if need be." Hermione said all of this very fast, her face growing redder and redder.

"Oh," Harry said, unenthusiastically. He began buttering his toast before he looked up and saw Hermione looking at him anxiously, expecting his answer. "Well…I suppose," Harry said, running his hand through his messy black hair. "It couldn't hurt, I reckon."

Hermione squealed and hugged Harry tightly, almost knocking him out of his chair, before running off, muttering something about "research" and "so much to do".

Harry looked up and noticed Ron staring at him, shaking his head slightly. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, mate," Ron said, chuckling softly to himself and grabbing another slice of toast from the plate in the middle of the table.

***

"Are you ready Harry?" Hermione asked, looking up from How to Be a Master at Occlumency and Legilimency. Harry and Hermione were in the library, hours after breakfast. Harry was sitting on the ratty old couch in the library, nervously fidgeting with his wand.

"I suppose," Harry said, dully. On the contrary, he felt anything but ready. He hadn't exactly gotten very far with Snape, and even what he had been able to master, was probably long gone from the lack of practicing. All of a sudden, Hermione's idea seemed less and less appealing. He was slowly remembering the horrible times he had with Snape, attempting to master Occlumency, with very little success.

"Okay, it says here," Hermione said, biting her lip and pointing to a line in the book in front of her, "'to perform Occlumency, a wizard needs to completely close his mind, blocking out any feelings, memories, and thoughts. For many wizards-"

"I know all of this, Hermione," Harry said, exasperated.

"Fine," Hermione snapped, closing the book loudly. "Let's try it then. On the count of three, I will perform the spell and you will attempt to block me out, alright?"

"Yep," Harry said, through gritted teeth, as he stood up and walked towards Hermione.

Hermione scowled, but continued anyway. "One…two…three…Legimens!"

Harry used all of his energy to block Hermione's spell, and at first, he thought he had succeeded. Then, all of a sudden, image after image raced through his mind…

He was seven, being beaten up by Dudley at the park as all of Dudley's friends stood around him, laughing and pointing. His glasses broke and he fell to his knees, running his hand aimlessly over the grass, feeling for them….He was looking into the Mirror of Erised, staring longingly at his parents in the reflection…He was back in the graveyard, facing Voldemort in the golden web, holding onto his wand with all of his might and watching the small bead creep closer and closer to him, Cedric Diggory only meters away, lifeless. ….In the Chamber of Secrets, scrambling around blindly to kill the basilisk, blood and sweat dripping down his face, a young Tom Riddle, laughing from behind him, and a lifeless Ginny Weasley sprawled out on the floor in front of him….Holding the Sorcerer's Stone in his pocket, as Voldemort told him to come to the Dark Side….

Harry tried with all of his might to stop the images. He didn't want Hermione to have to see all of the horrid moments of his life, the moments that haunted his dreams. But Harry found that he had no energy to block her out, and the memories continued to flash by…

He was fighting off hundreds of Dementors on the shore of the dark lake, and feeling his energy being slowly sucked away as they came nearer….He was in the Ministry of Magic, watching as Sirius fell through the veil, a surprised look etched on his face…. On the small island with Dumbledore, forcing his headmaster to keep drinking the awful potion and Dumbledore screaming in agony, the nightmarish bodies of the Inferi reflecting underneath the water's surface ….Back in the Ministry of Magic, this time being possessed by Voldemort, his scar bursting in pain beyond the imaginable, pleading Dumbledore to kill him, to end his misery…

Suddenly the images stopped and Harry found himself on the floor, sweat dripping down his face. "Oh Harry!" he could hear Hermione sob from above him. "I'm sorry. I couldn't stop, I couldn't get myself out." Harry held up an arm and Hermione grabbed it, helping him up from the floor and to the couch. Harry felt dizzy, his mind completely exhausted.

"Harry," Hermione said, tears dripping down her cheeks, "I never knew. I mean, I've always imagined all of those things you went through, but I never really knew how horrible they were." She held up a cold, wet cloth to his forehead. Harry guessed that she had planned ahead, knowing that something like this would happen, and for that, Harry was grateful.

"You weren't supposed to see all of that," Harry said, looking away from his friend. "I didn't want you to see all of that." He took a deep breath, and feeling his energy slowly return to him, he continued. "Didn't you think that there was a reason why I never went into great detail about those things, why I didn't want you and Ron to come with me on this mission in the first place? I have seen things I do not ever want you to see, I have felt things I never want you to feel. And that's why I'm going to make sure to kill that wizard, to make sure that he never has a chance to make you see the things I've seen."

Hermione looked at her best friend with awe. As he spoke those last words, she saw his bright green eyes harden with determination.

"Hermione, I'm scared," he said softly. He draped his arm over the back of the couch, pulling Hermione closer to him. He couldn't help but notice how nice it felt, to just sit there with her.

"Yeah, I know," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm scared for you too…"

"No," he said, cutting her off. Hermione could feel his muscles tensing. "I'm not afraid of destroying the Horcruxes. I'm not afraid to face Voldemort. I'm not even afraid to die, really.

"No, I'm afraid of losing you," he continued. "All I can think about since we've been here at Grimwauld Place, since we've begun this mission, is that I might lose you."

"I can't promise you we'll be okay, Harry," Hermione said gently. "But I don't think you have anything to worry about. Ron and I…we will be fine, Harry. Just fine…"

"I just don't know what I would do without you, Hermione," Harry said, staring across the room, his eyes dark with determination, and his muscles tense with worry.

***

"How much longer are we going to have to research, Hermione?" Ron whined, as he picked up another book from the stack on the floor. The trio was looking through any book of dark magic, in search of information that would help them find the Horcruxes.

Hermione sighed. "Until you actually find something useful, Ron." Ron had been driving her crazy all morning, interrupting her research to read her a passage from a completely irrelevant book. "No matter how interesting you find the confusion spell or the history of brooms to be, they won't help us find the Horcruxes." Ron scowled and continued reading.

Moments passed by and Harry got up from the table and wandered around the room aimlessly, his mind growing restless from the amount of researching he had been doing. He paused in front of the tapestry on the wall, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black: "Toujours Pur" written across the top. Harry stared at the family tree, mindlessly reading the names along the lower branches.

His eyes fell upon one branch of the tree, making out a small smudge next to the name Regulus Black, where Sirius's name would have been. Suddenly, Harry felt as if the world had stopped, as if everything had been put on hold. His body went completely still and his breathing grew uneven and rapid.

A memory suddenly became clear in Harry's mind, a memory he had not thought of in two years, a memory pushed to the back of his head…

"My parents thought Regulus was a right little hero for joining up at first…he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person…you don't just hand in you resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death…"

Harry quickly left the room, not responding to Hermione or Ron as they called after him, asking him where he was going. He made his way to his bedroom, and dug around in his trunk, spewing clothes and books all over the room, in an attempt to find what he was looking for.

"Harry," he heard Ron ask from the doorway, "what in the bloody hell is going on?"

Harry didn't answer. Finally, he found what he was looking for, and he grabbed it triumphantly, a wide smile across his face.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, tilted her head to one side in confusion.

"Listen," Harry instructed excitedly, as he unfolded the piece of paper in his hand. Hardly able to control his excitement, he began to read to his friends what was written on the paper.

"To the Dark Lord, I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret, I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B."

"Regulus Black," Harry whispered.

Hermione and Ron were quiet for several moments as they tried to figure out what Harry was saying.

Ron's mouth suddenly dropped open. "Blimey," he said, shaking his head slightly.

"You know," Hermione began, "we found a locket here at Grimwauld Place two summers ago, remember? No one could open it…What if R.A.B. never destroyed it?"

"What if he was killed by Voldemort before he could do so…" Harry added, thinking back to the memory he thought of back in the drawing room.

"But we threw it in the rubbish sack, didn't we? With all of the other junk we found" Hermione asked. Harry felt his heart drop. They had been so close… Harry could not believe how stupid he had been. The locket had been right in front of him, yet now it was gone.

"Yeah…," Ron said slowly, "but Kreacher was stealing things from out rubbish sack all summer. Could he have kept it?"

"Ronald, you're brilliant!" Hermione squealed, grabbing him into a tight hug. Harry felt a wave of jealously pass through him, though he didn't have the slightest clue as to why.

"He slept under the boiler in the cupboard off of the kitchen, didn't he?" Hermione asked, remembering their visit to Kreacher's "room" over Christmas. Harry nodded.

The trio made their way to the kitchen, pausing outside of the cupboard.

When Harry opened the cupboard door, he noticed that the "room" still looked identical to how it had been several years ago. He noted that Hermione's quilt that she had given to him for Christmas was still folded and was sitting on top of a pile of Kreacher's "treasures", looking very much unused. He made a mental note never to mention that detail to Hermione.

He bent down and began pawing through an assortment of coins, jewels, and photographs. Then he saw it. Nestled in a pile of filthy rags was a golden locket. Triumphantly he snatched it, instantly feeling a rush of magic flow through his fingers. Crawling out of the cupboard, he held the locket up to the light, smiling as he made out an "S" engraved on the front.

"This is it," he said smiling. He looked up and saw Hermione and Ron staring at it, identical looks of excitement written across their faces. That was the last thing Harry could remember before everything going black.

Author's Note: Well, there is chapter three… A bit shorter than the rest, but oh well. Please review!


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