Reliving the Past-Chapter 4
Harry's evening ended thinking of Ron with a very heavy heart. In his mind, there was no way that anyone would ever understand how important he had been to Harry. He still was important, but Harry couldn't bring himself to travel to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to see him.
Without realizing it until very recently, he couldn't understand why Hermione might carry some guilt for something not her fault. Ron had probably survived the curse because of her. It wasn't well known but in their final year, Harry had taught them that when fighting Lord Voldemort happiness, hope and love were the only weapons that could overcome his attacks. Concentrating on survival to see a loved one again would keep the mind from collapsing under the Cruciatus Curse. Two things came from that particular curse: madness and the loss of the will to live in such pain.
Harry was convinced that Hermione was the reason Ron had fought it successfully for so long. Hermione, he thought, must know or at least suspect it. Harry had had no one he loved so much, he thought. So he always believed that thoughts of Ron, Hermione, Ginny and everyone who'd helped him would be his salvation. Maybe, thought Harry, when it was over Ron realized the truth that Hermione never loved him as he had loved her. Harry thought that Ron had survived only to drown in madness of a broken heart.
Harry sat at the table with his head in his hands. He knew he wouldn't sleep. The thoughts of Ron took him back to that night. The halls and corridors were filled with wand flashes as Harry passed through them dodging and darting as if a sixth sense guided him. Hermione and Ron followed. His head reverberated with the sounds of tumbling concrete as chunks of it fell in their path. He'd never saw where they had gotten off to the moment one wall collapsed behind him knocking him off his feet. He felt the burning of his scar as the viperous face of Lord Voldemort closed in.
"Ah, Harry, so we meet at last. No where to go and no way to get there as they say," said Voldemort.
"You have been a naughty muggle-loving boy, Harry. I thought that you would have been more loyal to your own kind," he continued.
"I have been spending a lot of time with Tom lately. I've been kind to the people who were like you were. Those who were lonely, sad and forsaken--I had to become one with them to understand. You have lost your soul even when you have strived to save it and keep it immortal," said Harry. These were the words that he knew came from his mind and heart. He pictured the phoenix, Fawkes, sweeping in once more. His heart was once again filled with hope and joy.
"Tom is dead, Harry. I should think you would know that by now," said Lord Voldemort rising above Harry and kicking his wand away.
"You should know that if Tom dies, so do you," said Harry. "Or, does that scare you?"
"The Riddle boy died years ago, Harry. Your cheap psychological tricks cannot fool me," said Voldemort arrogantly. "I'm tiring of this quickly Harry."
"Oh, so you've never wondered who lives in my scar so that you can be the embodiment of evil. No man save Lucifer himself is evil to the core," said Harry. "You rejected your true soul in destroying the essence of love that resided in my mother. You were banished just as God banished Lucifer for destroying the pure of heart."
Harry remembered the look of fear passing over Lord Voldemort's face. "Lies put in your mind by that fool Dumbledore. You are no more Tom Riddle than I am."
"Exactly, are you seeing the folly of it all yet?" said Harry.
Harry shivered at the table tears streaming down his face. He still didn't know where what he'd done had come from. But his mind was filled with contentment, joy, laughter, love and, inexplicably, courage that he would survive. But he knew the cost to those who were there.
"What cost? The cost of this one's life? Avada Kedavra. Or this one? Avada Kedavra." One by one Lord Voldemort killed each person who stood near. He had no remorse nor did he care whether they were Death Eater, Order of the Phoenix or Ministry of Magic. He killed. Yet, Harry knew it had to be like that. He knew why.
Harry had not mentioned cost. But he had thought it. Lord Voldemort and he were becoming one again as a power greater than himself radiated him pulling Voldemort in as if he were a vacuum. Voldemort could feel it. He killed to maintain his form. Just as Ron focused on love to survive, Voldemort could not let love conquer the hate and despair that fed him. He had to kill to survive. When Harry sensed that Lord Voldemort was about to make another Horcrux and kill him to survive, he acted. "Accio," his wand returned to him and phoenix song filled him. "Expelliarmus."
Off-guard, Lord Voldemort was disarmed but very close and dangerous. But the damage had been done. He could no longer keep pace with the transformation back to Tom Riddle by killing nor could he make another Horcrux. Harry had never been prepared for what came next.
It was as if Lord Voldemort understood the magic that was destroying him. Voldemort's shriek seemed to call the Dementors from the depths of the Ministry. They approached him now. He tried but he could not summon his patronus fast enough. Harry's joy could have satisfied all the Dementors on earth at that point. It was what was keeping Harry alive. The first Dementor kissed him. He remembered the horror, but somehow he knew he'd lived and another terrible explosion shook the building and it seemed emanate from his head. His scar burned as it never had before. For several moments, he could not focus on anything but the wrenching agony as if his head had been split in two.
The next thing he was aware of was his leg and arm being crushed under the weight of the rubble. The dust filled his lungs. He felt as if he were on fire, yet growing out of the ashes. His leg burned in agony and his arm felt useless. Yet somehow, with only one arm and power he couldn't describe he freed himself. The tears pouring from his face, he helped those he could. It was not him that was curing these wounds. He knew he was delusional. But he felt as if it was his tears were doing it and as if he were the phoenix. He found Hermione and Ron, the same happened with them. Only Ron's eyes rolled to the back of his head. His physical wounds mended, but his psyche had been torn asunder.
Then he saw Tom Riddle as he'd seen him in the Penseive the last time Tom was recognizable. Harry suddenly felt cold and his leg throbbed anew and the pain in his arm threatened to make him lose consciousness. He continued to try to help others but he could not. They were dying. He pulled one to safety, then another. Finally, in the arms of a screaming Hermione trying to stop him from hurting himself, he collapsed.
Harry sat at the table with his eyes burning so badly that he felt as if he were back in that dark, dust-filled chamber again. Hermione had sat with Ron's and his head in her lap weeping for several minutes until Kingsley Shacklebolt found them. He still didn't remember the four days that followed.
Harry sat and thought of how ironic that evening was. Had the Dementor feasted on his soul at the side of the lake with Sirius, Lord Voldemort would never have risen to the power he did. His scar was the good that existed in Tom Riddle and rejected in the act of attempting to murder an innocent baby. That portion of Voldemort could not coexist with the evil and Avada Kedavra was abandoned in essence because Lord Voldemort would have been committing suicide. It had taken Harry and left the rest to fend for itself as Voldemort. The Dementors wanted Harry because there lived another joyous soul within him. There had been a day when he'd laughed silently at the thought that when Dementors found Harry it was a `Two for One Special". Tonight he could not laugh.
The next morning was very hard on Harry as he raked the leaves. The miniature corral that served as a pen for all manner of creatures needed repair as well. Harry went to open the gate and tired as he was, his hand scraped the splintered wood. It forced a two-inch sliver of wood through the webbing between the index and middle finger of his right hand across his palm toward his wrist. He screamed in agony. A student heard his scream and ran back to the castle to get help.
It had been a long time since he'd hurt himself this badly. He hoped that Hermione would come to him as she had so often before. Harry heard her say, "I don't want him to think I've abandoned him."
"Hermione, you told us why and you must trust him to understand and us to help you," said a voice much too young to be Nurse Pomfrey.
Around the corner came a mousy-haired nurse with bright blue eyes and the name Marlie on her name tag. "Ouch, that looks pretty painful, Harry. Hi, I'm Marlie."
"Hi," he said trying to not show his agony too much.
"Look, if this hurts it's better to say so. I won't stop if you act like it doesn't hurt," said Marlie. She took her wand and waved it over his hand. The intense pain stopped for the moment. "That's only temporary so I can see how deep it really is."
"Hermione, you can go back to work. If he's going to die, I'll call you," she teased.
He noticed Hermione peering around the corner. Harry almost smiled but Hermione's glassy eyes told him that looking like he was enjoying the joke at her expense would be cruel. "She's worried about me, huh?" asked Harry.
"Duh," said Marlie. A second or two pause was followed by, "I'm sorry. Too much time around George and Fred. I think you know them. These things can be nasty. You know the drill about injuries and wizards, but this kind can cause infections that we don't fight off so well."
He liked her. She was straight forward and disarming. George had done well, he thought. "Seems to me that George is a lucky guy," he said.
"And everyone says you're a charmer Harry. No girl, single or otherwise, is immune to your charms," said Marlie cheekily. "That's the real reason Hermione doesn't want me here, she's jealous."
Harry turned pink. It was hard to embarrass him, but she'd done it. "Now you know why George and I get along so famously. I'll never leave him though. Because he's got the biggest…"
Harry thought for sure she was going to go there again. Her eyes widened as if for a punch line. "heart, of anyone I've ever known. Yes, my job is to annoy you and keep you thinking of something else while I pull this thing out of your hand." He felt a ripping sensation between his fingers.
His hand and arm were on fire. Somehow she had kept him so off-balance that she had been able to wedge her fingers along the sides of the splinter and force enough to the front between his fingers that she could pull it out in one movement. The blood on the front of her smock was pretty gross. "Poppy, come help me please," she said. Another wave of the wand while Marlie kept direct pressure between his fingers stopped the bleeding. His hand began to swell and throb.
"Harry, come see me every morning before your first class. You might need help doing your chores until at least Wednesday. "I'm sorry for being a little forward, but with guys like you, I know how to make you squirm."
Now he wasn't so sure he liked her. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said incredulously.
"Just what I said. I know how to make you squirm. Admit it, you squirmed," said Marlie.
"I don't know why Hermione would tell me to see you if you're like this man-hater," he said. "All of a sudden, I feel sorry for George."
She smiled. "And we've felt sorry for Hermione. Be back tomorrow at what time, Hermione?" Marlie looked down the row of beds, "She says seven-thirty, Harry." She handed him a small vial of potion and a container of powder. "Bring them tomorrow and I'll show you what to do with them."
Harry sat in the hut for most of the afternoon fuming about the way Marlie talked to him.
He was not going to let this go. He'd go see George and Fred. There had to be some explanation. No one disliked him like she seemed to dislike him.
Diagon Alley was slowly being rebuilt. The buildings themselves were fine. It was the trade that had suffered because so many of the magical artisans had fled to other countries when Voldemort took residence in Britain again. George and Fred's shop still remained. It wasn't as hard to believe as some thought it would be that their business thrived when others had not. Scared, sad people needed things to make them laugh. Fred and George provided that.
He walked in at five o'clock the normal closing time for most shops in the area and found Fred counting the money. "Oh, heya, Harry," said Fred. "Hey George, guess who's here."
"Marlie?" replied George.
Fred put his fingers to his lips. "Watch this. Yeah, the boss is here."
"Er, ah, be right there, Sweetheart," said George. He emerged a moment later looking flustered. "Fred that's not funny. You know how much I hate it when she shows up unexpected."
Harry laughed. "Yeah I met her today. She's gorgeous, but what a piece of work."
"You liked my little act, didn't you Harry?" said a feminine voice from behind George. It was Marlie. They'd had him on again.
"Oh, jeez, I'm out of here," said Harry. This is too creepy.
"I set her straight Harry. Really. Ask her," said George.
He looked at Marlie. "What is he talking about?" asked Harry.
"Harry, you only know what you see and what you hear. I was told this morning that Hermione couldn't take seeing you anymore and that I needed to see you whenever you came in. I had no other explanation when you came in today. Hermione explained it after you left in more detail than these to stiffs could have ever done," she said smiling.
"Yeah, you know you like my stiff…upper lip when I try not to cry," said George with a demonic laugh.
"So, I'm sorry if I seemed a little protective," said Marlie.
"Exactly what did she tell you?" asked Harry.
"These two told me that there was no way in the world you would intentionally hurt Hermione and you'd probably rather put your own eye out than hurt her unintentionally. Hermione pretty much told me of your conversation yesterday. You remember that don't you? She's the nice girl you see. Not the little bimbos that come around to make little Harry happy," she said to the roars of laughter of the twins. "That was purely for these two morons' pleasure. I make the same comment about Fred and the girl he likes but won't commit to."
"You do seem bitter," said Harry. "Sorry."
"Harry, if you had to hang out with these two you'd be bitter too. They're rich and I'm a struggling nursing student," said Marlie.
"She's funny, isn't she?" said George. "That's some of the stuff she's making up for a comedy routine at the club we want to buy."
"Really, Harry. Before you think, I'm horrible. It takes a lot of nerve to try what you two are trying to do," said Marlie. "George and Fred, can I talk to Harry for a minute?"
"Sure," said George who motioned to her pointing and mouthing (she's smart, listen to her.)
"I need to take this to Gringott's by five-thirty anyway," said Fred.
"Harry, I really am sorry. I'm not the bitch I seemed to be today. I have never met anyone like Hermione and I'd do anything to protect her from being hurt," said Marlie.
"Me too," he said. "But why attack me like that today? I mean we had never met," said Harry.
"That's such a long story that I would embarrass myself telling it. Let's just say this. I'm a year older than George and Fred which makes me three years almost four older than you. The accent is gone and I came from Beauxbatons. When the tragedy occurred here, I volunteered to help with the survivors. I studied psychology in muggle studies and still do at Oxford. Well, I hear a lot of stuff about the way boys behave toward girls and I'm not always impartial. I'm starting to figure out that a lot of girls…now this is kind of my act coming out again…don't understand the concept of: "if you fuck with the bull you get the horns." The rumors about you being some sort of guy who preys on innocent girls were much more one-sided than I was led to believe. Hermione and I had a long talk today. So, I would have verbally castrated you if I could before I found out I was wrong to a great degree about you. I'm sorry."
"I still don't get it," said Harry. "I'm not a bad guy and I never intentionally hurt anyone."
"I realized it was vindictive girls who felt stupid for not realizing that you were emotionally unavailable. Guys don't say, `hey can I screw you for fun.' They let things happen and when it gets to be too much or too close, they leave. If a girl knows a guy has had a lot of girls in his life, she should run from him, not jump in his bed to be the next victim. No matter what a nice guy he is," said Marlie.
"Who told you all this?" asked Harry. "Not Hermione, surely."
"No, she wouldn't tell me one bad thing about you if I guessed it. George and Fred used examples of rumors I remembered. So, I know that a lot of stupid people have made your life kind of tough," said Marlie. "Where I blame you is how do you do this to Hermione? If you care for her, how do you even look at another girl?"
It took a while, but he told Marlie the story of what he thought his problem was. His childhood and a lot of other things made him kind of needy. She was like talking to a counselor in one of those books he'd seen on the shelves. "Do you think I sort of sabotage relationships because of Hermione?"
"What do you think? You know yourself better than I do. Do you want my opinion or confirmation of yours?" she asked.
"I want the truth as you believe it to be. If that's your opinion then fine," said Harry.
"Yes. You were one of the few I didn't talk to after the Great War ended. I met Fred and then George and we worked out the deaths of their parents and Ron's predicament. I found out their brother had married a fellow Beauxbatons school girl. But yes, I believe you do. Why? I don't know. There are some really good reasons though. And I hope it's one of them and not survivor's guilt. She's a really wonderful girl and you're a great guy deserving of someone like her. That's the best one. The other is that you have always secretly loved her and you feel guilty that Ron isn't with you anymore, but you want to be there to take care of her for him. So, you don't go too far away."
Tears grew in his eyes. "I guess I won't do that again," he said trying to clear the choking pain out of his throat from the pain.
"What's that?" asked Marlie.
"Ask you to tell me the truth. I might get more than I bargained for," said Harry. "I guess you made me squirm again."
"I don't think you realize how tough you are for a sensitive guy," said Marlie. "I've seen guys who have lost a loved one demand to know why God hates them and never accept what you have had to accept in life. No tears, just rage. So, don't think that squirming is a bad thing. It's the part that makes us challenge ourselves and go on," she said with a smile. "That will be seven hundred fifty galleons. So, George and Fred only owe you two hundred-fifty more."
Harry smiled. She hugged him. "You do what you have to for you and Hermione. Don't let anything that you think my be painful, get in your way. I'll give her the same advice."
"George is lucky," said Harry.
"You want to know the truth. I almost didn't go out with George because I was afraid he needed me too much. He's devastated about the losses in his family. So is Fred. But they're good guys and George is going to be fine," said Marlie.
The rest of the night ended up on a nice note. He, the twins and Marlie went out for a nice dinner and for the first time since he'd known the twins they talked about their loss. At first he was sad, but he learned that Marlie preached remembering the good things and not the loss. The growth was more important than the loss. "Harry, you're still like our brother. I wish Ron could be with us." George and Fred toasted Harry.
Marlie made them all go sit with Ron for an hour.
The horror from the night before seemed to fade away.
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