Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 4: The Meaning of Sacrifice

After Hermione had finished a small but relentless tirade of questions, Harry released a reluctant sigh. Feeling slightly frustrated that Hermione had seen the mark on his chest, he gestured for her to follow him. He didn't especially care to discuss his actions the day before yesterday, but his apprehension about lying to Hermione outweighed the hesitation.

Hermione walked behind Harry in silence as he made his way back towards the Black Lake. She ached to know what had caused Harry such a horrific disfigurement, but she knew better than to push him on the subject; if he told her he told her, and if he didn't there was nothing she could do about it.

Harry burst through the doors of the entrance hall and they were immediately flooded with sunlight. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Hermione had followed him out, then turned and strode down the lawn in the direction of the lake. Hermione couldn't help but notice that he seemed rather preoccupied, as if he were poring over what he should tell her.

They finally reached the beech tree and they promptly sat on the grass, both facing the lake. Hermione felt both eager and frightened, as if she were about to be read a story she was anxiously awaiting, yet unsure of its contents.

Harry, however, did not speak immediately. He gazed across the lake in a thoughtful sort of way, and he seemed in no hurry to put an end to Hermione's intense curiosity. He sat in this manner for several moments, ignoring his friend's impatient squirming, but finally turned his head toward her.

"So what do you want to know first?"

"There's more than one thing to know?" Hermione asked.

Harry only nodded in response.

"Well, the only thing I know to ask about is the mark on your chest," Hermione said. "So I guess that's the only place to start. How did you get it?"

"Voldemort," Harry said simply.

"I suspected that much," Hermione said with a slight roll of her eyes. "When?"

"During the battle."

"Are you being purposely redundant?" Hermione said, exasperated. She could sense that he was being very tentative in his revelations, but she couldn't understand why. It wasn't as if she were forcing him to tell her. And she voiced this exact thought to him.

"I know you're not forcing me," Harry said. "It's just that I don't really know what to say. I wasn't really intending to tell anyone about what happened in the forest until you saw my chest, but now that you're asking, I sort of want to tell someone." Harry ran a hand roughly through his shaggy hair and returned his gaze to Hermione's. "I really only want to tell one person, and out of everyone I know, you'd be the person I would tell anyway. Might as well get it over with. Get it off my chest, if you will," he said as a weak attempt at humor.

Hermione couldn't help but be absurdly touched by this. "So you really want to tell me? You don't feel obligated to?"

"Yes, I do, and no, I don't feel an obligation to. At least not in the sense you're talking about. I feel I have a responsibility to tell my best friend about this, not to satisfy someone's curiosity," he said, facing the lake again.

"Well, okay then. So you said you were in the forest -"

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" Harry smirked.

"No. No you can't. Anyway, as I was saying, you were in the forest-" Hermione paused, furrowing her brow. She turned to Harry inquisitively. "Why did you go into the forest anyway? You could have waited for Voldemort instead of going to him."

"Well, there was something I needed to do."

"What on earth could've been so important that you left without telling anyone?"

With that Harry told her almost everything that had transpired after they had witnessed Snape's death. He told her of going to Dumbledore's office and watching all of the memories he had acquired from Snape and what their contents revealed: the potion master's long-time friendship with Lily Evans, and how his affection had turned to love; his attempt to save Lily and her family, despite his contempt and rivalry with her husband; Dumbledore's agreement to protect the Potters if Snape consented to turn into a spy for the Order and the anguish he had experienced upon news of Lily's death. He told Hermione of the doe Patronus that had led him to the sword of Gryffindor and how it had belonged to Snape; how Dumbledore had asked Snape to kill him when the time was right; and finally, of the revelation that Harry himself became a Horcrux when Voldemort had attempted to murder him.

Harry released a deep breath at this point and looked over at Hermione as if to say, With me so far? She had remained silent for the entirety of Harry's speech and seemed to be processing the information. She finally swallowed and directed concerned eyes at Harry.

"You-you're a Horcrux?" she whispered anxiously.

"Was," Harry corrected. "Obviously I can't be a Horcrux now or Voldemort would still be alive."

"But…I don't understand…if you were a Horcrux, you would've had to…"

"Die?" Harry said.

"Well...yes," Hermione said. "But obviously that's not the case, as you appear to be quite alive at the moment."

"Yes, it does appear so," Harry said with a smile.

"So you couldn't have been a Horcrux," Hermione said conclusively.

"Not necessarily."

Hermione seemed to wilt. Obviously the lack of logic in the situation was grinding on her nerves.

"That makes no sense. A Horcrux has to be destroyed, right?"

"Right," Harry said.

"And all of the Horcruxes needed to be destroyed for it to be possible for you to kill Voldemort, correct?"

"Spot on."

"So there you go! You didn't die and Voldemort did die. End of story."

"Who ever said I didn't die?" Harry said evasively.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think that kind of goes without saying."

"Come on, Hermione, think about it. Voldemort came out of the forest parading my body. He obviously thought that he'd killed me. And there's only one curse that can guarantee killing someone."

"But…if you had been hit with the Killing Curse…" Hermione paused. "It's impossible."

"Obviously not, because I was hit with the Killing Curse."

Hermione did not speak immediately, as if she were waiting for Harry to deliver a punch-line. When he didn't, she felt an overpowering sense of awe. Harry had survived the Killing Curse not once, but twice in the span of seventeen years. Needless to say, those were pretty impressive statistics.

Despite the thoughts whirling madly through her brain, "How?" was all that Hermione managed to say.

Harry seemed relieved that they were finally on the correct path. "Well, do you remember how Voldemort used my blood when he came back to human form?"

"Of course. He thought he could make himself stronger with your blood."

"Right. But what he didn't know was that he was taking a small part of the enchantment that my mother gave me when she died. Because of that, Voldemort tethered me to life while he lived. So when he tried to kill me - "

"He separated the bit of his soul that was attached to you."

"Exactly."

"Wait…how do you know all this?"

Harry smiled elusively again. "Dumbledore," he said, and left it at that.

After this, they fell into silence. Dozens of questions continued to buzz through Hermione's mind, but she knew better than to ask. After a moment she sat up and maneuvered her body so that she was facing Harry. Harry did the same.

"Before you…killed Voldemort…you said that everyone was protected from him. I didn't really know what you meant until now. You went into the forest to sacrifice yourself, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," Harry said sheepishly.

"Why didn't you tell any of us?"

It was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Would you honestly have let me go?"

Hermione blushed. "No, I suppose not."

"I thought it would be easier if I didn't tell anyone. I honestly wouldn't have needed too much persuasion to stop me."

"I don't think I would've been able to do that," Hermione said. "Sacrifice myself like that. That's not to say I wouldn't, of course, but I think I would be too afraid to carry it out. It must have been horrible for you, thinking you were about to lose something as precious as your life."

Harry thought about this…the emotions he felt as he walked through the castle and grounds of Hogwarts for what he thought to be the last time. He thought of how he felt at the thought of never seeing Hermione, Ron, or Ginny again, and his need for support, resulting in his use of the Resurrection Stone. He doubted he would ever tell anyone of any of this... yet he knew it was worth it. "It was hard," Harry admitted, "but…I don't know…it was easier than a lot of people would think."

Hermione looked bewildered. "How so?"

"Well, I was giving my life hoping that I could save other people's lives. At times, when you sacrifice something precious, you don't really lose it. You just…pass it on to someone else. Does that make sense?"

Hermione smiled in a watery sort of way, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around Harry, hugging him fiercely. "Yes, that makes perfect sense."

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