Chapter Four: Unlocking the Secret
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.
***
Harry could make out voices around him as he slowly regained consciousness.
"Ronald, Harry is lying in bed unconscious from that bloody Horcrux- now is not the time to be asking me things like that," he could hear Hermione exclaim from somewhere next to him.
"Blimey… I didn't think it would get you so worked up. I was just curious about how you felt about-"
He groaned softly as he tried to move; his body felt as if it was made of lead.
"Harry!" he could hear Hermione gasp from beside him. He slowly opened his eyes, groaning at the bright sunlight. He blinked furiously and finally, as his eyes adjusted, he could see Hermione, leaning over him, her eyes full of worry.
"Are you okay, mate?" Ron asked as he walked over to Harry's other side and sat on the edge of the bed. Harry wondered when he was even put in the bed. The last thing he remembered was finding the locket, and then passing out.
"What kind of question is that?" Harry managed to croak. "How long have I been out?" he added.
"Since yesterday," Hermione responded grimly. "Oh Harry, we were so worried!"
"What happened?" he asked.
"It was so frightening," Hermione said, running her fingers softly through his hair. He shuddered underneath her touch. "You were showing Ron and me the locket, and then suddenly, your eyes grew dark, almost black. Then you fell to the ground and started convulsing."
"Nearly gave Hermione here a heart attack," Ron added, chuckling. His tone suddenly turned serious. "No, but really, Harry," he said. "It was as if the bloody thing possessed you. You looked as someone had Crucioed you." He shuddered at the memory.
"Oh, Harry," Ron added suddenly. "Tonks and Remus are here at Grimwauld Place with us. After you passed out…well, we didn't know what to do. I mean, I know you wanted to keep this a secret, but…"
"Ron," Harry said, interrupting his friend. "It's fine, don't worry about it. I trust Remus and Tonks."
Hermione and Ron both looked relieved.
"So, why did that happen? Why did the locket have such an effect on me?" Harry asked, feeling curious.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't know," she said softly. "I just don't know…"
***
"Harry?" Remus asked, peering tentatively into the sitting room the following evening. He saw his former student sitting on the couch with Crookshanks curled up in his lap, peacefully dozing.
Harry looked up from the book he was reading, Extremely Dangerous and Powerful Dark Magic, and, seeing Remus standing in the doorway, quickly snapped the book shut, careful to cover the title with his arm. "What is it, Remus?" he asked.
Remus slowly walked into the room and took a seat in the chair facing Harry. After several long, awkward moments, he finally spoke. "Harry, listen… Tonks and I…we're worried for you, for all three of you. We need to know what you three are doing, what you and Dumbledore were doing before he died…"
"I can't tell you," Harry said blankly, mindlessly scratching Crookshanks behind the ear, causing the cat to purr loudly.
"Harry, this is important!" Remus said, his voice loudly this time, almost desperate. Harry just shrugged.
"I received a frantic owl from Hermione several days ago, telling me that I needed to come here as quickly as possible, that you were hurt. There was no explanation about why you were hurt, or even why you three are here in the first place. I wasn't aware that you three had even left the Burrow, since there was a full moon last week. Tonks and I…we're here to help you, Harry. But we need to know what you're up to if we're going to help."
"I'm sorry, Remus," Harry said, finally looking up at Remus. "Dumbledore told me to keep what we were doing a secret, he told me not to tell anyone, besides Hermione and Ron. And he told me to continue following his instructions no matter what, even if he died. I intend to keep that promise. I'm sorry, Remus, it's just what I have to do."
Remus nodded. His face looked slightly disappointed. "Just, can you let me know one thing, Harry? What you're doing, what you and Dumbledore were doing…it's to defeat Voldemort…right?"
"Yes, Remus," Harry answered grimly. "We're doing our part to put an end to Voldemort, to fight him…and to kill him."
"But Harry," Remus said anxiously, "that's why we started the Order. We began it so young wizards, wizards like you, don't have to be a part of such a war. It's the Order's job to stop Voldemort, Harry…not yours."
"You see, Remus," Harry said, standing up, knocking an irritated Crookshanks to the floor, "that's where you're wrong. This is my job to stop Voldemort…it's been my job since I was a year old when he killed my parents. And I'm doing it not because I have to, or because I'm destined to…but because I want to, because I need to. I can't just sit back and wait for someone else to try to stop him, because I won't be able to rest until I personally watch him die." Harry stopped talking and took a deep breath. Only then did he realize how uneven his breathing was, how tense his body was, how tightly his hands were clenched into tight fists.
Without speaking, Remus stood up and walked towards Harry. "I don't like what you're doing, but…I understand why you're doing it. I know I can't help you in the way I originally wanted to help, but…would you allow me and Tonks to give you a few dueling pointers, perhaps give you and Ron and Hermione lessons to prepare you?"
Harry smiled. "I'd greatly appreciate it, Remus," he said.
Remus turned to leave the room, but then paused. "Your parents would be very proud of the man you have grown to be, Harry," he said softly.
Those words stuck in Harry's mind the rest of the night, swimming through his brain and allowing him his first peaceful night in weeks.
***
"Ron, get up," Harry hissed in his friend's ear early the next morning.
"Gimmefivemoreminutes…," Ron mumbled, pulling his pillow tightly to his ears.
Harry snatched the pillow from his friend and whacked him repeatedly. "Get up now, Ron. Hermione's already downstairs eating breakfast."
"I don't see why we have to train so early in the morning," Ron grumbled as he rolled out of bed.
Harry just chuckled as he left the room to go downstairs. From the hall, he called out, "And no getting back into bed, either."
A half an hour later, the trio, along with Remus and Tonks, stood in the drawing room, the furniture pushed to the sides of the room to give them more space to duel.
"Alright," Remus said, pulling his wand out of his pocket. "I'll work with Hermione and Ron during the first part, and Tonks will work with Harry, okay?"
Harry nodded and followed Tonks to the other side of the room. "Wotcher, Harry," she said, turning and facing him, her wand grasped firmly in her hand. So, Remus tells me that you're a master at Defense against the Dark Arts, and from what I saw of you at Ministry a couple of years ago, I'd have to agree with him."
Harry smiled, and felt his face grow warm. "Well, let's see what you got," she said, smiling as she raised her wand, drawing it level with Harry's chest.
They began to duel, Harry spending most of his time dodging Tonk's spells. Despite her clumsy nature, Harry soon discovered that Tonks was a quick and coordinated dueler. He shot off any spell that he could think of, from the disarming spell to the tickling charm.
After the two were too exhausted to continue, the stopped dueling, both collapsing ungracefully into the chairs at the side of the room.
"Pretty good," Tonks said, her breathing heavy and uneven. Slowly her breathing returned to normal and she continued speaking. "One major thing, however," she said," is that you need to learn how to use nonverbal spells."
Harry groaned, remembering the night only a couple months earlier, as he tried to fight Snape, only to be ridiculed and put down for not using nonverbal spells. If only he had managed it then…perhaps, he would have been able to prevent Snape's escape…
"…and, if you work hard enough, perhaps we can work on wandless magic."
Harry looked up, realizing that Tonks was still talking. Embarrassed, and hoping that Tonks hadn't realized that he hadn't been listening, he asked casually, "Wandless magic, eh?"
"Well, of course it's darn near impossible to do," Tonks answered. "Dumbledore could do it at times," she added.
Harry nodded. He remembered seeing Dumbledore use it at the Ministry of Magic during his fifth year.
"And, well, I'm almost certain that Voldemort has mastered that skill," she added dryly. "Of course, don't be disappointed if you can't do it, I haven't really met anyone besides those two that can actually do magic without a wand, and even Dumbledore could only do it at select times."
"Well, let's get practicing," Tonks said, standing up and pulling her wand out from her pocket. Harry stood up as well. Confused, he watched her pick a book from the bookshelf behind her and set the book on the floor. "Move the book without saying anything," she said simply.
Harry spent nearly an hour, staring at the book with complete concentration, yet the book did not move. Running the charm through his mind over and over again, he tried with all of his might to move the book. Harry felt his frustration grow as each moment passed. Perhaps he was as "dimwitted" as Snape believed him to be; he couldn't even move a book without physically speaking the charm.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Harry," he heard Tonks say. "We'll try this again tomorrow. Don't worry about it. It took me years before I could do it…Almost failed my N.E.W.T.s because of it," she added, chuckling. "Enough for today. Go eat lunch with Hermione and Ron; they're already down there."
***
Harry retreated to his room after dinner that evening, feeling depressed and pessimistic. He locked his door and lay on his bed, twirling his wand between his fingers as he ran through the day's experiences in his head. The nonverbal spells were a disaster. How did he expect to be able to stand a chance against Voldemort if he couldn't even master that? He turned to his side, spotting the golden locket resting on his bedside table. The trio had decided to leave the locket alone, and especially not to touch it, for the time being, until they figured out what to do with it.
Yet every day that went by that Harry didn't destroy the Horcrux inside the locket, or find another Horcrux, made Harry feel defeated. The longer Harry waited, the stronger Voldemort grew, the more followers he received and the more terror he spread.
Exhausted from the day's experiences, Harry closed his eyes and fell into an uneasy sleep.
"Potter," Lord Voldemort hissed, appearing to Harry from the shadows. "We meet once more. It's quite funny, our little encounters, wouldn't you say? Still, each time, you still manage to slip out of my fingers, but not today, Potter. Today I have you right where I want you…"
Harry suddenly pulled out his wand, and pointing it towards Voldemort, he yelled, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort, however, did not even blink as he threw off the curse with a flick of his wand, as if he was flicking off a small bug.
"Sectumsempra!" Harry tried again, hoping against hope that it would hit him, throwing him off at least for a second to give Harry enough of a chance to run.
Yet once again, Voldemort just shrugged off the curse, laughing in spite of Harry. "Silly boy," he hissed. "You are a mere child. You'll never be a match for me…"
Suddenly, Voldemort snapped his fingers and Sirius appeared in front of him, then Cedric, and then Dumbledore. Then, as quickly as they appeared, Voldemort killed each of them in turn.
Then other people appeared, people that Voldemort hadn't killed yet: Remus, Tonks, Ginny, Ron…each appearing just for a second, before Voldemort shouted the killing curse on each of them, laughing at Harry's cries of protest. He could feel tears running down his cheeks. He couldn't handle it anymore. What had he been thinking, that he, a "mere child" as Voldemort called him, could stand a chance against the strongest, darkest wizard of all time.
Wiping his eyes angrily, Harry looked up and saw, to his horror, Hermione standing in front of him, terror etched across her face.
"Hermione!" he cried out, his eyes wide with shock, dread, and fear.
"You feel a rather attachment to this one, don't you Potter," Voldemort said, chuckling. "The filthy mudblood," he spat.
"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort shouted, pointing his wand at the girl in front of him, and laughing again as he watched her body crumble to the ground.
"Nooooooo!"
***
"Harry?!"
"Harry, wake up!"
Harry slowly opened his eyes, suddenly aware that he was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding so uncontrollably, that he thought it would burst. "Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked, soothingly. Harry realized that she was sitting on the edge of his bed. He shook his head no, unable to say anything, in fear that he would vomit.
Finding his voice, Harry croaked, "I'm sorry I woke you." Hermione just smiled and shook her head, as if tell him not to worry about it.
"I don't even think Ron woke up," she said, smiling. Suddenly her smile disappeared and her face was serious. "Was it another one of those dreams?" she asked, her voice businesslike and formal.
Harry shook his head. "It was different than the other ones…more horrible," he said, running his fingers through his hair, which was still damp with sweat.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked.
Harry was silent. He had no idea if he wanted to talk about it with Hermione. Quite honestly, he wanted to talk about it with someone, to help him sort out what the dream meant…and Hermione had always been the best person to talk to about such things. Yet, on the other hand, he didn't know how to tell her that the reason it was so horrible was that he saw her dead.
He had no idea why Hermione's murder in the dream affected him so much; when he saw her in front of him, he felt so much dread in the pit of stomach, far more than he had even felt when he saw Ginny, or even Ron, his best friend. And that single fact scared Harry the most, that in the past few weeks, Hermione had become so important to him, so special to him…
"Harry?" Hermione asked, snapping Harry out of his thoughts. "Do you want to talk about it?" she repeated.
"I don't know," Harry admitted, looking down at his hands. "I suppose I do," he added softly.
Hermione nodded, gesturing for him to begin. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if she had pulled out a clipboard and began taking notes, like the Muggle psychiatrists he had seen on the television at the Dursley's.
Harry explained his dream, pausing just before he reached the part of Hermione appearing. He was suddenly lost for words, unable to describe the rest of the dream.
"And then…" he finally said slowly. "You appeared."
Hermione bit her lip anxiously and nodded for him to continue.
"God, Hermione," he said, standing up suddenly. "I…I…" He found that he simply could not go on any farther. He couldn't explain to his best friend why her death affected him so much, he couldn't bear to even think of her dying.
Harry stood facing the wall, his back towards Hermione who was still sitting anxiously on his bed. "Harry, what is it?" she asked softly, her voice encouraging and comforting. She slowly stood up and walked towards her best friend.
Harry slowly turned around and nervously stuck his hands into his pockets. He didn't say anything for several minutes; he simply stared deep into her eyes, his gaze penetrating. "The thing is, Hermione," he said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. Suddenly, as he looked at the girl in front of him, he mustered the strength and courage to go on. "When you appeared in my dream, it was the most horrible feeling imaginable- I can't even describe it. It was horrible watching Ron and Ginny and…everyone else be murdered right in front of me, yet…I don't know…seeing you standing there, knowing that you were going to die any second, was just…"
Not knowing what possessed him to do so, he slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to Hermione's.
As soon as his lips touched hers, a burst of light and magic shot from Harry's scar. The two of them shielded their eyes from the intense light that had filled the room, their mouths open wide with shock as they watched papers on the desk rustle as if a gust of wind suddenly entered the room. The windows shattered and books fell from the shelf like heavy drops of rain.
Moments later, the light slowly faded, as did the wind and the magical energy. Harry clutched his hand to his aching scar, and fell to his knees in pain.
Hermione stared in disbelief around the room, amazed at how much destruction had just taken place. Before she could even process what had just happened, she heard the door creak open. She turned around and saw Ron standing in the doorway, his mouth hanging wide open in shock.
"Bloody hell," he managed to croak.
Author's Note: Sorry chapter 4 took so long; this chapter, for some reason, was really hard to write. I think the next few chapters will be easier, so expect another post sometime soon. Hope you liked it and please review!!!
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