Chapter Eight
Born to Love
Ginny swiped angrily at her tears.
Watching her whirl around to confront him, Hermione and Luna as they followed her into the Gryffindor common room; Harry knew she wanted to explode and he couldn't blame her.
How could he explain what had just gone on? He wasn't a hundred percent sure himself, his body still tingling with the experience of entering Hermione's mind so completely - and then the intimacy of the dance afterward. He stood to face a glaring Ginny, ready for her to storm at him and waited. But when she spoke, it was in a voice that was quiet and measured, making Harry even more aware of the emotions held in check.
"Could someone please explain to me" she paused briefly to look at them both in turn, "what just happened?"
She leveled a stare at him and he met it, determined to be honest with her.
"I don't know Ginny. I… I blacked out." He raised his hand as she started to object. "…Though I was still aware, yes. But I kind of blacked out and when I came to on the dance floor, I didn't know what was happening - I just… started to lift up again and then…" He paused, looking at all of them one by one. "Well… then I don't know what happened but …it stopped."
Now Ginny was glaring at Hermione. "I know what happened. She came along and grabbed you."
He looked at Hermione in surprise.
"You did?"
She nodded, glancing at Ginny. "I could see it was happening again and I… I thought you wouldn't want the whole school to see."
Ginny scoffed. "Oh yeah but they got a show anyway didn't they?"
Harry frowned at her. "What does that mean?"
"You two. Fawning all over each other. You practically kissed!! I told Ron I was right - something is going on." She was visibly shaking as she gathered steam. "And I always asked you Hermione, always said to you were you sure that you didn't feel anything for him, and that I was sure he felt something for you."
Harry looked at Hermione, words dying on both of their lips. His heart had given a little leap at Ginny's words, and he was glad that Luna chose that moment to speak.
"I think you'll find that this skin contact thing doesn't work with everyone. I think it only works with you, Hermione."
Hermione turned to Luna in surprise. "No, no I don't think…"
"Here." Ginny strode towards them ripping off her gloves. "Let's see shall we. Harry - can you put it to the test?"
He stared at her, then Hermione, then Luna. "I don't think its necessary…"
"It is necessary." Ginny held her hands out to him with a steely determination in her eyes.
Harry shook his head but stood still and closed his eyes. Immediately he rose, slowly and carefully off the floor. Hermione drew a sharp breath and instinctively reached for him but Ginny stood in front of Harry to block her way and spoke in a business like tone.
"Okay Harry. Now, take my hands."
He did as she asked, but with no result. She waited, but he knew it was pointless and as soon as Ginny motioned to Hermione to step towards him he began to feel the relaxing sensation as they joined hands and he settled gently back on the ground. Luna beamed in the background and his eyes fell to Hermione's. She bit her lip and looked away.
Ginny's eyes had grown wide and she stepped back shakily. "Well. That's that then." He watched her face fall and tried to think of anything to say - anything to stop her unleashing her anger.
But what happened was worse. Brave, gutsy, funny Ginny, put her face in her hands and sobbed.
He looked down at Hermione who looked back at him hopelessly - her own eyes shining with tears. Luna stood off in the background watching the scene now with a rare somber look on her face, bringing the seriousness of the situation home for Harry.
He squeezed Hermione's hand once and let it go then walked to Ginny and held her by the shoulders.
She looked up at him finally and he led her to sit on a couch. Hermione and Luna stayed where they were, respecting their privacy.
"Harry." Ginny's voice was a croaky whisper and his heart broke with the sorrow in it. "What's happened? I thought you were… I was waiting for you."
He held her hands but sat very still. He knew nothing he could say would make her feel better and he let her continue.
"I didn't want to expect too much. But I thought you had been missing me too. I thought you were coming back to me" She said the last as if speaking to herself.
He ran his hands through his hair. "I was Ginny. Please believe me, I really was thinking of you the whole time. It's just since the Battle. It changed me, in so many ways - some I don't understand myself yet." He brushed her hair off her face. "Please believe me that I never meant to hurt you, or lie to you."
She looked up at him, her eyes spilling tears. "I know Harry. If nothing else, I've always gotten honesty from you."
"I'm really am sorry Gin."
She nodded and looked down at her hands. "So am I."
They sat in shared silence for a moment, until Neville came bursting through the portrait.
"Harry!" Seeing him on the couch he ran over. "Sir Cadogan." He stopped for breath, leaning on the armrest.
"Sir Cadogan?" Harry brought to mind the eccentric knight, charging through Hogwart's portraits. "What about him?"
Neville stood up again. "He had a message for you. He said Dumbledore's back."
Harry's eyes widened and flew directly to Hermione who had reacted the same way.
"I have to go." He stood up and walked to the portrait hole. Hermione followed him and just before they stepped through he turned back to the others. "You guys should go back to the dance. Really." He looked at Ginny as she stood up slowly from the couch and smiled weakly at them before she replied.
"Yeah. You go, hurry."
He nodded and returned the smile then they took off through the portrait.
He took Hermione's hand and set off down the corridor at a fast pace, with her jogging to keep up. They arrived at the gargoyle and he turned and took both her hands in his, looking down at their fingers entwined.
"Hermione, I…"
He hesitated and she smiled softly at him; reaching up she touched her hand to his jaw. "Let's just go and catch Dumbledore, Harry. This is what you've been waiting for"
He studied her face for a moment then nodded and drew his eyes from her reluctantly to speak the password.
In front of the oak door they both took a deep breath and exchanged a brief glance before entering.
Professor Dumbledore sat in his portrait facing Snape, who stopped talking as soon as they entered and regarded them coolly. Dumbledore followed Snape's gaze and broke into a wide smile.
"Harry, Hermione!" he said warmly. "It's so good to see you."
Harry frowned and stepped forward. "Professor… it's good to see you too." He finished the sentence with 'finally' in his head but managed to resist saying it aloud.
"Professor Snape was just filling me in on your new… affliction." The fact that he said it with a smile still on his face didn't ease Harry's mounting irritation and he couldn't help but snap his reply.
"Yeah well, I wish someone would fill me in too." Snape's eyes narrowed but Dumbledore maintained his cheerful demeanor.
"Of course you do Harry." He didn't seem in a hurry though, and turned to regard Hermione with a smile over his glasses. "I hear you've been very helpful about the situation - as always Miss Granger."
Hermione smiled modestly. "No, we've just been… making do."
"Yes, but nevertheless I'm sure Harry appreciates it immensely. I am, however, going to ask you to go back and join your fellow students at the dance if you will. I think that it would be best for me to talk to Harry about this by himself."
Hermione looked slightly wounded and Harry shook his head emphatically.
"No… Professor - Hermione stays. She's been with me through all of this, she deserves to know."
"Quite" said Dumbledore, still with his infuriatingly calm smile. "And she will, in good time. However, I must insist, that the conversation is best heard by your ears only, first."
Harry went to object again but Hermione pulled on his arm. "Harry, it's okay. I'll - I'll wait downstairs." She turned to Dumbledore. "Will he be alright though Sir?" She cast a worried eye up towards the tall ceiling.
Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Yes my dear - in the confines of this office he will be quite safe."
She turned to Harry and he had the distinct impression she desperately wanted to stay but she seemed to resign herself and drew him into a hug. He held her close and she stepped back to look him in the eyes. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
He nodded and kissed her on the cheek, pressing her to him just a little too long. She stepped away, flushed and turned to give him one last glance at the door before walking out of the room.
"So, Harry!" Dumbledore sounded excited. Snape was still glaring at him but Harry ignored him. "Have a seat."
Harry hesitated but eventually pulled out the chair.
"Firstly - I must apologise. I understand that you've wanted to speak with me for a number of days, and I haven't been available. The Ministry has been more demanding of my time than ever, but capturing the Deatheaters still at large is of the utmost importance I've been spending most of my time at various portraits within the Ministry's offices, offering them insight on their leads." Dumbledore regarded him over his half moon spectacles. "I understand you must have been frustrated Harry."
Listening to Dumbledore's frank declaration Harry felt some of his tension leave him, and he felt suddenly and overwhelming tired.
He sighed. "What's going on with me Professor?"
"Well Harry, you tell me. Tell me everything, from the last time I saw you."
Harry took a deep breath and began, telling him everything in detail. He left out nothing, not even his nights with Hermione, though he omitted his thoughts and feelings on the subject. Dumbledore wore a smile throughout and when he described entering Hermione's thoughts at the dance Dumbledore raised his eyebrows with a soft 'Oh?' before sitting back to listen again. When he had finished, Harry sat uneasily in his seat, anxious for answers. Dumbledore seemed to be mulling over the information and Harry couldn't wait any longer.
"Sir, does this mean I'm still a Horcrux?" He felt a huge relief saying his fears out loud, only to be replaced immediately with dread at the thought of hearing the answer.
Dumbledore shook his head. "No I don't believe so Harry. I think there's no doubt the part of you that was an unintentional Horcrux has died, or you would still clearly detect the presence of his thoughts. It does appear though that when the curse backfired on Tom for the last time, the Horcrux part of you dissolved, but an impression of his presence remained… in much the same way as a camera burns an image onto a negative."
Harry squinted at him, waiting to hear more.
"Now" said Dumbledore, warming to the subject. "It seems that in retaining this imprint, all of Tom Riddle's powers are there inside you. A mere suggestion, but there nonetheless, ready for you to discover and bring forth." He watched Harry's reaction carefully. "And this usually happens when something monumental brings it about. Something life changing, that becomes the means with which the power awakens."
"Let's look at the Legilimency to begin. The grief associated with the funeral and perhaps your return to Godric's Hollow and all its emotion opened the gateway in your mind to allow the Legilimency to begin. This is nothing to be afraid of Harry." He regarded him kindly over his glasses. "But with a great power such as this, comes a greater responsibility to exercise control and use it wisely, and with discretion. Professor Snape and I can take you through the finer points of this skill to sharpen your control. You will find there are many subtleties to the art."
Harry registered Snape's expression of annoyance but remained still. His most pressing question was burning inside of him but he was still unwilling to mention it.
"Harry" said Dumbledore, watching him closely. "What is it that's really troubling you?"
Harry measured his words. "My eyes sir. When they glowed red… what if… what if I'm dangerous? What if I've inherited some of his personality too?"
Dumbledore laughed quietly. "Mere theatrics Harry. Tom's eyes became red through the damage he caused to his own soul, but he also deliberately enhanced this for dramatic effect. You likely have all his talents at your disposal, but you can certainly pick and choose which you decide to take on."
Harry felt his chest ease at the revelations.
"Now - the flying!" Dumbledore's eyes widened in what Harry could only conclude was excitement.
"It is, obviously, quite a rare and unique power. And there are only two ways to bring it about."
He pressed his hands together, tapping the fingertips. "Firstly, there is a dark magic, very similar to the method for creating a Horcrux. Once you have committed a murder, it is possible to capture the anguish this causes to the victim and their loved ones, and attach those potent emotions to a spell that will make you fly. This is temporary, and often a reason why anyone who would do such a thing commits murder again, to retain the power."
Harry whipped his head up at a thought. "That's how Riddle did it."
Dumbledore held up one long finger. "Well… I had previously though so. But I recently have had reason to suspect that he may have used the other technique."
"Which is?" Harry noticed Snape turn and walk out of his picture.
"Love, Harry."
"Love? Voldemort?" Harry stared, his mouth agape. "But you've said yourself he doesn't understand love."
Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed. But perhaps it is I who failed to see the many complex ways in which we love. For love of family is almost in built, though it may or may not be reinforced, depending on how close one is to their family, it is there from the start. The love we speak of now is love of a more mature and evolving nature, romantic love, you might say."
"It is a curious thing I suppose, and likely why it's dismissed as legend, but it is quite true that a wizard must be truly in love to master the ability to fly. You see, being in love for a wizard is different than for a muggle. It changes our physiology -much like your mother's love for you marked your very skin- and therefore, makes one far more powerful. In fact, your mother was a perfect example.
Harry felt a jolt of recognition hit him - Snape's memory of his mother taking flight from the swing. "My mother…flew?"
"I don't know if she ever 'flew' as such, though I did hear of a rather special trick she had of jumping neatly from one moving stairwell to the other with impressive distance." He chuckled.
"Then… who? Who did Riddle love?"
"Well, again this is now speculation Harry, but I am almost certain the likely person is Bellatrix Lestrange."
Harry immediately had a flashback of the final moments of the Battle; Bellatrix's gloating smile freezing on her face as she fell to Molly Weasley's curse - and Voldemort's resulting scream carrying over the noise of the cheering crowd.
"So… he loved her?"
"We'll never really know" Dumbledore replied with a shrug. "Having seen her around Tom in earlier years, I feel certain she had quite an all consuming love for him. I feel they would have married had Tom not had a Muggle father. But yes, it would seem that perhaps they loved each other - at least as much as either of them was capable of love."
He smiled then and shook his finger as if remembering a particularly good joke. "But either way, this is where it gets wonderfully complicated Harry."
"It seems that the love required to inspire flight in a witch or wizard does not have to be returned. It can be unrequited - and it could be that even if he didn't return her love, Tom was still able to use the intensity of Bellatrix's love for him in this way. But all that is really required to master the skill of flight is for the witch or wizard to accept within themselves that they are, in fact, in love."
He glanced over at Snape's empty portrait with a benign smile.
"Severus would have told you this Harry, if the subject wasn't perhaps so… delicate for him."
So, thought Harry, Snape had been reluctant to talk about it because he would have had to discuss his love for Lily. He felt a surge of guilt, remembering his outburst at Snape's portrait.
Then a slow dawning of thought began to settle over him and he looked at Dumbledore, who was watching him closely as if following the very path his thoughts were taking.
"So, we come to you now Harry." He smiled kindly, and sat as if waiting for Harry to be ready for his next words.
"Knowing your capacity for love, and the consequences it has had on your physical being, I did foresee that you might deal with a situation like this at some stage, even without this apparent encouragement from your encounter with Voldemort. Now, with both situations colliding, it appears to be causing some interesting results."
"Harry, have you had any feelings for someone that sound like what I'm talking about?"
A pair of dark brown eyes flashed into his mind and he looked away. Finally he nodded curtly. Dumbledore went on.
"This is what you must master then. Whether you've admitted it to yourself or not, those feelings are there. It appears this is a perfect example of how your body sometimes knows things before your mind…catches up." He smiled. "Your body has been trying to show you how you feel, believe it or not. They're probably the truest of all emotions, the ones recognized by your physical self." He placed his hand on his stomach and patted lightly. "It's what they mean by the term 'gut feelings'."
"I wouldn't presume to tell you how or whether you should approach this person about how you feel, but it is not necessary to do that to gain control over your skill. To admit to oneself that you are in love is the hardest thing of all, and -therefore I suppose- all that is required."
Harry stared at the floor. He felt poised on the edge of an abyss, wanting to let himself fall but at the same time, clinging on with all his might to what was safe and sure. He looked up at Dumbledore again and noticed Snape had returned to his portrait, though was not looking at him.
"But, sir, what if loving this person …might hurt others?"
Dumbledore nodded and his expression turned sympathetic.
"Then that is unfortunate and an obvious dilemma. Only you can know what to do there Harry."
Harry dropped his head to his hands and sat still for a moment. Finally, Dumbledore broke the silence, speaking quieter than before.
"I would however suggest to you Harry, that your inherent nobility, though admirable, would be woefully misguided if it caused you to value others perceived happiness over your own." He fixed twinkling blue eyes on him. "Might I even venture to say that you, in particular, are quite possibly …overdue a certain amount of happiness."
Slowly, Harry sat back in his chair, looking out the dark window. When he spoke, it was almost to himself.
"So, it's the difference between what is right, and what feels right."
Dumbledore nodded, obviously pleased with Harry's assessment. "Either way Harry once you acknowledge it to yourself, being in love is one of the most powerful forms of magic - especially if returned."
"In particular, some believe that there is one specific person for everyone. And for a wizard, finding that person is exceptionally potent. It seems some Muggles experience a similar thing; they call it a term which I'm particularly fond of." He smiled softly to himself. "They call it a soulmate."
Harry felt something shift inside him and was suddenly overwhelmed by a memory so clear and so strong that it was almost as if he was viewing it through a Pensieve. It was of Professor McGonagall speaking at Tonks and Lupins funeral and of her final words.
"To know nothing should stand in the way of loving the person you were born to love."
He felt frozen to the spot as the memory continued in his head, in his mind he was sitting there again, with Teddy in one arm and…
Hermione in the other.
A breathlessness overcame him as his stomach twisted violently. Realisation dawned as a physical sensation, his skin tingling from his scalp to his toes.
His eyes traveled back to Dumbledore, bemused to find him smiling his knowing smile.
"The person I was born to love" he said, and Dumbledore nodded. "It's Hermione."
Dumbledore continued nodding and smiling but said "Only you know Harry."
"I know" said Harry simply and he felt a warm fire building in his belly, emanating to the very tips of his fingers. He took his glasses off and placed them carefully on the desk. Turning, he walked to the door, stopping when he reached it and looking back around. "Thank you, Sir. I've got someone I need to find."
Dumbledore broke into his widest grin yet and several other Headmasters were smiling too, a few even clapping. He looked over to Snape who regarded him for a moment and then gave him a small nod, and a definite smile.
The corridors had never been so long as he ran along them, finally reaching the quickest route to take him outside, to a terrace on the North Tower. Approaching the steps leading up, he felt a rush of certainty so strong that he almost fell over in his haste to reach the outside air. Standing there, on the damp stone terrace he looked up at the moon and smiled.
Anyone watching would have doubted their eyes. For one minute, the wizard with the dark hair was standing there, head tilted back to the stars. Then, with a small movement he was shot up with lightening speed - a black blur rushing upwards and into the night sky.
~*~