As promised, here's the next chapter. The song, Everybody Hurts, is by REM. Now, you're all caught up, but hopefully, it won't be another long wait before the next chapter is posted. My muse has returned from vacation!
Thanks to Arnel for being my wonderful beta.
|
The Beast Within | ||||||
|
Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Draco Malfoy, Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Oliver Wood, Other, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, Sirius Black Genres: Drama, Romance Warnings: Death, Mild Language Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 272 Summary: Two pivotal things happen the night of October 31, 1981. They will change the course of Harry's life. Forever. Posting issue resolved. For the moment at least and hopefully permanently. Hitcount: Story Total: 152483; Chapter Total: 4754 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
--Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind After having explained to Professor McGonagall as to why he had skived off Potions, Harry served his detention with Professor Snape. Really, it hadn't even been detention, but more of a chance to make the potion that had been done during class, surprisingly. Perhaps McGonagall had said something on his behalf. As for any class notes, Harry knew he'd have to ask Hermione, not that he really expected any. The week went by in a blur, what with his “detention,” Quidditch practice, Astronomy class's practical, and sitting in the common room finishing homework. Now, it was Friday afternoon and he and Ginny were meeting with Professor Dumbledore. Before Harry could knock on the door, it opened, and the Headmaster greeted them, bidding them to enter. Instead of going to his desk, they were led to a small couch and a big squishy armchair, which Dumbledore took. Harry exchanged confused glances with Ginny before sitting on the couch opposite the old wizard. “I am certain you are wondering why this particular sitting arrangement. I wanted this to be a more informal meeting as the nature of what we will be discussing is of a personal one.” Dumbledore's gaze slid between the two teens. “Harry, have you shared with Ginny what had been discovered this past weekend?” Harry glanced at Ginny, tightened his grip on her hand, and then returned his gaze to Dumbledore. “Yes, sir, I have. She knows everything I know. It wasn't easy, though.” “The most important things we do are sometimes the hardest.” The twinkle in the man's eyes didn't go unnoticed by Harry. “I am pleased to hear you have shared this. Burdens are always easier when shared.” Harry grinned wryly. “So I've been told.” Dumbledore nodded, smiling slightly. “Very well.” His countenance sobered at next words. “I have done some investigating and believe I know how you came to obtain that fragment of Voldemort's soul. You see, Tom Riddle learned of an ancient, Dark spell that would allow him to exist, even when his body is destroyed.” Beside Harry, Ginny gasped, her eyes wide. Her hand clutched Harry's almost desperately. Harry tried to swallow his shock and fear at what he heard and would be hearing next. His heart was pounding so fiercely, it amazed him no one could hear it. It took a few tries, but he did manage to push down his fear enough to speak. “Is that why you never believed Voldemort was gone, sir?” “It is, Harry, and it saddens me to know I was right.” “So, you're saying that he cast this spell before he attacked my parents?” “That has been proven to be the case.” “So, how did I get a piece of his soul? I'm still not understanding how that happened.” “It is my best guess, Harry, that Voldemort's soul was very unstable at the time of the attack in Godric's Hollow. When his Killing Curse hit you, it must have rebounded and obliterated his body, leaving his essence behind. Because that essence was unstable, another slice likely split from it and attached itself to the only living thing in the room–you. It is the act of murdering that allows the soul to be split.” A shiver ran down Harry's back at the thought and he looked away from Dumbledore. Ginny's thumb caressed the back of his hand, its slow, back and forth motion soothing him. He gently squeezed her fingers in thanks. Breathing deeply, Harry calmed himself enough to ask his next question. “So, then, we just have to figure out how to counter this spell.” The aged Headmaster suddenly looked centuries older as his blue eyes bore into Harry's. “I am afraid it is not that simple. This Dark spell requires one to use an object to house the soul fragment. We must find the object Voldemort had used, and then we must destroy it. Destroying the object will also eradicate the bit of soul contained within it.” “But...” Harry sputtered, incredulously, “it could be anything!” “It could be, yes, but think about this: Out of all the things we've discussed in these meetings in the past, what has been the underlying theme?” Harry stared blankly at his Headmaster, not quite sure he understood the question. Ginny, apparently, didn't share his confusion. “Arrogance,” she said quietly. “He was very arrogant when he spoke to me through that diary.” “Exactly,” Dumbledore confirmed with a nod. “Even at a young age he displayed an overabundance of hubris. Knowing this, do you think Voldemort would pick just any object for such a significant purpose?” Harry mulled it over. “I suppose not. So, then, how do we find this object, and how do we get rid of it?” Dumbledore heaved a great sigh, his hands clasped together. “Therein lies the problem, Harry. It could be anywhere, and anything of historical import. As for how to destroy it,” the Headmaster's gaze turned to Ginny, “I believe I know what needs to be done.” “What?” Harry glanced between Ginny and the professor. “How?” Dumbledore answered, but kept his gaze on Ginny. “I believe I destroyed one at the end of the last school year.” Ginny gasped, her white-knuckled grip on Harry's hand nearly cutting off his circulation. “You mean...?” “Yes, unfortunately, I do.” Harry's mind spun. The only thing that happened last year was... “Do you mean the diary?” It would seem he'd figured correctly for Ginny buried her face against his chest, his shirt stealing the tears she shed. Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny and held her close, hating that he couldn't take her pain away. One of his hands rubbed up and down her back, hoping she found it as comforting as he had when she'd done the same for him on previous occasions. After a handful of minutes, her sobs lessened to mere sniffles. A couple of times he noticed her wiping her cheeks on his shirt and he took the opportunity to–hopefully–make her smile. Adopting a grossed out tone of voice and expression, he asked, “Did you just wipe your nose on me? Eww, Ginny. That's just...eww.” When he heard her soft giggle, his heart soared, and he couldn't hide his grin. Success! Then she did it again and he sighed dramatically. “Ah, well, go ahead. I'll be your handkerchief.” “Hey,” came Ginny's muffled voice, “I could have actually blown my nose, you know.” Harry shuddered and made gagging sounds, making Ginny actually laugh. She sat up, still sniffling, and accepted a handkerchief from Dumbledore. Once she'd gotten herself under control, Dumbledore continued with their line of discussion. “After killing the basilisk–with the help of Fawkes–I used one of its fangs to pierce the diary. Basilisk poison is extremely potent and can remain so several months after death. The venom ate away at the book, ultimately burning a hole straight through it, effectively expunging what was Voldemort from it. Now, it is simply a book with a hole.” Harry and Ginny were quiet as they processed what they'd been told. Then, Ginny's head jerked up, her gaze flicking once at Harry before turning to their Headmaster, her eyes huge. Harry winced slightly at the death grip she had on his hand. “But, what about Harry?” Ginny asked, frantically, “I mean, he had Voldemort in him, too. He obviously wasn't destroyed. So, how did he get rid of that piece of soul?” “That is a very good question, one of which I can only answer with a guess. I believe the timing had a great deal to do with it.” Dumbledore looked at Harry, regret and sympathy shining from his blue eyes. “You'd lost Remus so he was on your mind. Your heart was heavy with sadness and the love you had for him. Remember, I once told you how deeply you tend to feel things. It is my belief that it was that love and sorrow that began the process. Then, you and Ginny came together again, and your affection for one another lent its strength to the battle that had already begun.” “Is that why I was so ill?” Dumbledore nodded. “I do believe so. Poppy told me it was like a war was going on inside you, which was reflected in your increasingly high temperature. Call it a last ditch effort on behalf of Voldemort's soul to remain exactly where it was. Alas, it simply could not. Evil cannot exist in a place where love abounds.” Harry thought on that a minute. It made a certain amount of sense, he supposed, but then... “So, why wasn't the love I had for Remus enough?” There was a distinct tremor in his voice, but at the moment, Harry didn't care. “Why didn't it happen before now? Did I not love him enough?” “Harry, of course you loved him enough,” Dumbledore replied earnestly. “That was never the issue. It appears that you needed love's other forms–friendship and romantic love–in order to be whole and strong enough to separate yourself from Riddle's bit of essence that clung to you.” Harry nodded slowly, attempting to take it all in. Friendship and romantic love, Dumbledore had said. The friendship he definitely had through Hermione, Neville, Fred and George, and he'd even go so far as to include the other members of the Quidditch team even though he didn't know them as well, but romantic love? Did he love Ginny? How could he? He was only thirteen! Would he even know if he did? He did feel something...more...for her, something more profound than it was before. Was that love? He just didn't know. The silence finally registered, pulling him from his thoughts. Both Ginny and Dumbledore were watching him and he felt his cheeks burn. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Don't be sorry, Harry,” the professor reassuringly countered, the twinkle returning to his eyes. “You both have been given a lot to ponder. There is one more thing I wish to discuss, but not to worry, this is something much more positive.” “What is it, Professor?” “Now, mind you, we have only had a short amount of time to look through some of the things found in that treasure room in the Chamber, but it appears we may have discovered someone's research into suppressing the werewolf transformations. Perhaps, with more time, we'll find some proof that it had been tested.” Harry could only stare at his Headmaster. Time seemed to have slowed down while his heart rate kicked into high gear. Blood rushed in his ears. His lungs labored just to take in a breath. Of all the things he'd thought he might hear, that certainly wasn't anywhere on the list. A warm hand squeezed his icy one, effectively snapping time back to its original speed. Harry laced his fingers with hers and brought his other hand over to cover the back of her hand, looking gratefully into her eyes. He breathed deeply before turning back to Dumbledore. “What?” His voice was raspy. After clearing his throat, he tried again. “Is it possible?” The Headmaster nodded. “As we speak, Professor Snape is scrutinizing the work. On the surface, it looks to be viable. As soon as he has come to his final conclusion, I will let you know.” “Thank you, sir.” “You are more than welcome, Harry.” The twinkling light in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed. “I, too, hope it will work. You certainly did not deserve the childhood you had been given. I feel I let you down, Harry, by not protecting your parents better.” Harry was silent a moment, his eyes on his and Ginny's clasped hands, the leather bracelet that Ginny had made him around his wrist. Even when he spoke, his gaze remained fixed on Ginny's show of support. “You did what you could, Professor. I just wish Uncle Remus was here to benefit from this, as well.” Thoughts of his uncle brought a flood of determination through him, unknowingly straightening his shoulders. Harry brought his head up to look his Headmaster in the eyes. “I need to start training. I need to be stronger–physically and magically. Will you help me?” A crease appeared between Dumbledore's brows. “Why not wait on that? Have the childhood you were denied. When the time is right, you can then begin actual training.” Harry's temper flared at being put off. He jumped to his feet, losing his grip on Ginny's hand. “How can you say that after what happened with Uncle Remus?! I'm not a child anymore!” Harry worked hard at getting himself under some semblance of control. His eyes narrowed as he stared at his Headmaster. “I realize that hunter likely had nothing to do with Voldemort, but we don't know for sure. I loved Uncle Remus, Professor. I loved him and I lost him. I can't go through that again, and if training will make it less possible, then I will do it. With your help or without it.” With that, Harry spun around and purposefully strode to the door. His hand had just touched it when Dumbledore's words made him pause. “You're not ready, Harry, for the monumental task involved in preparing yourself.” Harry closed his eyes and inhaled, then let it out slowly. He really hadn't wanted to oppose the Headmaster, but he'd meant what he'd said. He was going to begin training, one way or another, especially if it was as “monumental” as Dumbledore claimed. If that were the case, wouldn't it make sense to begin now instead of waiting? Harry straightened his shoulders, his chin rising. Though he never turned to face Dumbledore, Harry knew he was being watched, probably to see how determined he was. His gaze fixed on the door in front of him. “Looks like it'll be without your help, then,” he murmured. The sound of someone standing seemed to scream in the silence. Seconds later, he felt a small hand on his back. Immediately, Harry reached out and draped his left arm around Ginny, bringing her close to his side. Pushing the door open, he heard Dumbledore again attempt to persuade him from his course of action. This time, Harry did look back. “So, you'd rather keep me in the dark and string me along until you feel I'm ready. Am I understanding correctly? According to you, when would I be ready? Would I ever be? You didn't even want me to know the prophecy to begin with. I'm sorry, Professor, but I won't blindly follow your directives and wait until you're ready to teach me something. Unlike a glumbumble, I don't prefer to live in the dark.” Before the Headmaster could speak again, Harry pushed the door open wide enough for the both of them to go through. Forced to drop his arm in order to get down the narrow, twisting staircase, Harry took her hand. The pair descended in silence. It wasn't until Harry checked his watch that he spoke. “I'm sorry, Ginny.” “For what?” Ginny asked, sounding baffled. “For making you choose between Professor Dumbledore and myself. I know how much you respect him.” Ginny stopped abruptly and tugged on Harry's hand so that he was facing her. “Stop talking nonsense, Harry. Yes, I respect Dumbledore, but he's not infallible. It's okay to disagree with him, you know. In this case, I think you're right. I told you before that I will always stand beside you.” “I know and I appreciate that.” He suddenly tensed. “Ginny, do you think he'll write to your parents about this?” “I don't know, Harry, but it doesn't much matter. We'll figure it all out.” “Let's see if we can catch Sirius before dinner. Surely, he'll help us out.” “Good idea. Let's go.” Beyond exhausted, Harry forced himself to put one foot in front of the other, plodding along beside Sirius as they re-entered the castle early Sunday morning. It had been tough, emotionally, going through the transformations without his uncle. Obviously his godfather had felt the same as he remained silent, just kept a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry both dreaded and anticipated returning to what had been Uncle Remus's quarters. Yes, he'd been there since his uncle's death, but this was different. Going in there to recover, knowing his uncle wasn't going to be there, that he would never share this with him again, hurt. He'd been doing okay–yes, he'd had his moments–but suffering through the full moon this time, practically alone, hit him hard. His head hurt just thinking about it–or maybe that was just the physical ordeals he'd recently endured. Looking up, he saw Ginny standing outside the door of the private quarters, his broom in her hand. Her eyes glistened with what Harry could only assume were unshed tears, her brow furrowed as she watched their approach. Harry didn't know whether to be thankful or annoyed she was there, then seeing the anxiety she tried hard to hide, he decided maybe having her here wasn't such a bad thing. “I didn't know if you would want to stay here,” she said softly, her gaze occasionally meeting his, “so I thought I'd come down with your broom just in case.” Harry's throat tried to close up on him, and he felt his own eyes begin to water. “Thanks, Ginny.” Harry turned to his still-silent godfather. “I think I'll go with Ginny if that's okay?” His dull green eyes flicked to the door in front of them. “I don't think I can...just yet.” “I understand, Harry.” Sirius's hand left Harry's shoulder and landed tenderly on Harry's head. “Try and get some sleep.” Harry nodded once and waited while Ginny mounted the broom, sliding forward to make room for him. Once he'd climbed on, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and dropped his head to her shoulder. He was so tired, completely spent. As they started forward, Harry gave in and let the tears come. He woke abruptly when he felt Ginny shift. They were now hovering in the common room. How did she get them through the entrance without banging them on the walls? Not speaking, Ginny threw her right leg over the broom and dismounted awkwardly, trying to keep him upright as she did so. “Sorry, Ginny. I didn't mean to fall asleep.” “Don't apologize, Harry. Now, come on.” She reached up and steadied him while he gained his feet. “You're ready to drop. Let's get you settled onto the couch so you can get some rest.” Once he was horizontal, Ginny covered him with one of the blankets from the back of a chair, then removed his glasses to a side table. “Thanks, Ginny,” Harry slurred, more asleep than awake. “I don't know what I'd do without you. Don't ever go away.” “You're welcome, Harry, and you'll never have to find out, because I'll never leave you.” Leaning over, she lightly kissed Harry's lips. “Now, sleep.” Settling herself on the floor, Ginny kept watch while Harry slept. “Hey, Ginny,” Hermione whispered a couple of hours later. “Oh. Hi, Hermione.” Ginny glanced to Harry, saw he was still out, and tilted her head toward one of the study tables a short distance away. “Let's go over there.” “How is he?” “It was hard on him, and I don't just mean going through the change. Not having Moony with him made it that much more difficult, I think. Yeah, he was alone at my house during the Christmas hols, but it's not the same, you know?” “Yeah.” Hermione glanced sympathetically at the couch. “It's different when you know you're never going to see that person again.” “Exactly.” “Is there anything I can do?” “Just don't ask him about anything. If he wants to talk about it, he will.” Hermione nodded her agreement. “Oh, I got the radio and my CD's from my mum. That's the package I got a few days ago. Also, I talked to Professor Flitwick and he knew what charm had been placed on Harry's player to allow it to work. My radio is now ready whenever you are.” “Thanks, Hermione. Maybe later. I don't want Harry to wake up and find me gone.” Hermione smirked. “I think he'd live, Ginny.” Ginny shook her head. “You don't understand. He's kind of vulnerable, emotionally, right now. Just as he was drifting off, he said he didn't know what he'd do without me and practically begged me to never leave him. I don't know if he's aware of what he said, but just in case, I'm not going anywhere.” As Ginny explained, Hermione's smirk melted into sadness. “I guess you're right. You do need to stay here. Wait, I can bring it all down here. I have some headphones to keep the sound from filling the room. I'll be right back.” Ginny hadn't a clue what her friend was talking about, but she was eager to get started. In a matter of minutes, Hermione came back down, a roughly rectangular thing under one arm, a bulging sack in her other hand. The bushy-haired girl placed both items on the table. Ginny watched as Hermione pushed a button, causing a little red light to come on. “What does that light mean?” “Just that it's on.” Fascinated, Ginny watched her friend take out a flat plastic case from the bag and open it, revealing a silvery disc. The older girl explained all about how songs were burned into the silvery disc to be “read” by the harmless beam of light from the player as she held the CD carefully, touching only its edge. The girl pushed another button on the radio that made a flap pop up and pointed out the little glass bubble from where the light would come. Then, the disc was placed into the little compartment, the lid was closed. Ginny picked up the headband-looking thing with a cord attached. “What's this for?” “Those are the headphones. When you plug the cord into the radio, it allows only you to hear the sound. Here, let me show you.” Once the headphones were in place over Ginny's ears, Hermione tapped a button with a triangle on it. For a second, nothing happened, then music sounded in her ears. Her astonished gaze flew to the other girl. “That's amazing, Hermione.” Ginny carefully listened to the slow music and the lyrics. As soon as the song was over, Ginny pulled the headphones from her ears. “What's that song? I really like it.” Hermione tapped a button with a square and stopped the sound. Picking up the plastic case, she flipped it over. “It's called 'Everybody Hurts'. That's one of my favorites from this group.” “Can I make a list of all the songs I like? I'm bound to like more than one.” “Of course you can. Keep listening to the rest of the CD.” Ginny looked at her friend, flabbergasted. “There's more on here?” “Oh, yes. There's several songs on each CD. I guess I wasn't very clear on that.” She motioned for Ginny to replace the headphones, tapped the Play button again, then disappeared up to her room to bring back some parchment, a quill, and ink. When Hermione returned, she wrote down the song and artist. Ginny pulled off the headphones. “I'm not liking this one too much.” “Here, you can skip forward to the next song.” Hermione tapped another button and the next song started. After an hour, Ginny removed the headphones. “It's getting close to breakfast time. We should probably stop.” “Alright. I'll put this stuff away. You picked out some good songs. Mariah Carey is one of my favorite singers. I think 'Hero' and 'I'll Be There' are perfect songs for what you want to accomplish.” Hermione tilted her head to the side in thought. “'Everybody Hurts' is a good one for this, too. You chose well, Ginny.” Ginny blushed. “Thanks. I hope Harry thinks so.” “He will. I'll be right back.” Hermione headed up the girls' staircase. Several older, boisterous students came down the boys' stairs and into the common room, talking about girls and complaining about their homework, until they noticed Harry's foot dangling over the couch arm. Immediately, they shushed each other, turned apologetic faces to Ginny, and stage whispered how sorry they were. “I forgot that it was a full moon last night,” said one of the boys. “Sorry.” “It's okay. He's been out for a little while. I had planned on waking him up for breakfast anyway. Thanks, though, for that.” “Anything we can do? We'll try to remember next month.” The question made Ginny want to cry. This, right here, was why she was proud to be a Gryffindor. “No, not really. Maybe just keep the noise down for the day. As for next month, the full moon is at the start of Easter hols, so you won't have to worry about it.” “You know,” said one of the other boys, “maybe you should put up a chart on our notice board, like a reminder or something.” “I don't know. Harry may not like that. He'd probably rather not draw any attention to it. However, I can make a chart and just hand it to you.” “That's fine. Well, we're heading down.” “Okay.” Ginny watched the boys leave, now whispering enthusiastically. The acceptance of Harry's condition was still touching. She just wished Harry had heard them. Well, maybe she'd just tell him. Going over to the couch, she knelt beside Harry and, with the lightest of touches, slipped her fingertips into the hair on his forehead, softly calling his name. By the time Hermione returned to the common room, Harry was standing, doing his best to pretend he felt fine. He knew he hadn't fooled Ginny one bit, but thankfully she merely wrapped her arm around his waist. He still felt a little out of it, though some food would likely do him some good. Suppressing a yawn, Harry rubbed his face with the hand not resting on Ginny's shoulder, trying to wake up. “Good morning, Harry,” Hermione greeted him with the lightest of hugs. “I don't know about the 'good' part, but yes, it's morning.” Even though his voice held some sarcasm, he gave her a pained smile. Neville came down right after that, announcing that Ron was still sound asleep, preventing Hermione from making any comments, to which Harry was glad. He really didn't need her pointing out just how bad he looked. He already knew he looked terrible. He always did...after. “Well, shall we go, then?” Ginny asked. “It's just, I don't know how long Harry is going to be vertical, so if we want to get him down there under his own power, we should go.” Hermione and Neville snickered. Harry tried to glare at Ginny, but the effect was ruined when he stifled another yawn. Her twinkling eyes let him know he'd been completely unsuccessful in concealing it. Harry couldn't help himself; he chuckled. Even now, the sorrow he'd felt earlier had begun melting away. Ginny did that for him, every time. He pulled her closer into his side and gave her a smile. “Alright. Alright. Let's go.” “Sirius, can I ask you something?” Sirius nodded, patiently waiting for Harry to collect his thoughts. After breakfast, Harry had presumably sent his friends on ahead to the common room, and asked to speak with him in private. Sirius had an idea about what was coming. He'd waited for the question for the past month. So now, here they were, in his quarters, sitting on the couch. Harry fidgeted, one knee bouncing up and down, his fingers picking at his trousers, the couch, whatever they could find. He had yet to look him in the eye. “Did...Was...” Harry sighed, then seemed to push the words out of his mouth. “Did Uncle Remus have a memorial service?” And there it was. Sirius had wondered if Harry would ever ask. “Not really,” he said softly. “I had him buried next to your parents. I thought it best to wait for any kind of memorial until you were ready.” Finally, Harry met Sirius's gaze, the pain in those green eyes undeniable, but Sirius also saw a maturity there, a level of maturity way beyond what any thirteen year old should have. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Remus had a similar look. Maybe it was the lycanthropy. It did take a huge toll on a person, both physically and mentally. Sirius was pulled from his thoughts when Harry made his declaration. “I want to go see it–the grave. I want to have a memorial for him. He deserves that.” Sirius nodded. “Yes, he does. I'll inform Dumbledore and see what can be worked out. I'll also insist on Ginny accompanying us.” Harry gave him a single nod. “Thanks, Sirius, for taking care of everything and for including Ginny. Her inclusion was something I would have required.” “I figured as much, Harry. I'll let you know when I have the specific date and time.” Harry nodded, then yawned. “Why don't you get back to your friends and get some sleep? I'm sure you'll feel better.” “Alright.” Harry got up and started for the door, barely glancing in the direction of the bedrooms. Halfway across the room, he turned back, a curious expression on his face. “Do you know if my dad had a family ring, like the kind for sealing letters and such?” The question threw Sirius a moment, it was so unexpected. Vague memories coalesced in his mind's eye. “You know, Harry, I think he did. I'm not sure if it's still around, though. Why?” “I was just thinking that, since I'm the last Potter, I should have it. Especially for anything official.” Sirius's brows jumped to his hairline. “Official? Planning anything I should know about?” “No, but eventually I'll need to sign stuff at Gringotts, right? Or even the Ministry. I just thought it would be a good idea to have the Potter seal on those kinds of documents.” “I'm impressed, Harry. I never thought about that. You're right, however. There are a few things you'll need to sign and take care of. I tell you what, let me take a look around and see if Remus had it. He may have planned on giving it to you himself.” Another thought occurred to him. “Or it could be in your parents' vault. James didn't wear it much. He wasn't much on formality.” “My parents' vault? Don't you mean my vault? I've been in there when I got my supplies for school. There's nothing in there but money.” “No, Harry. Your family vault. It's separate from your school vault. The Potter vault contains the family heirlooms, money, things of that nature. Remus didn't tell you about it?” “No.” Sirius could tell by Harry's stiff posture and crossed arms that the boy's temper was rising, and attempted to disarm the ticking time bomb. He crossed the room and lightly gripped Harry's shoulders, looking his godson directly in the eyes. “Look. I don't know why he didn't mention it. Maybe he wanted to surprise you with it or something. That's one thing we'll likely never get the answer to. Just know this, he wasn't hiding it from you. He wouldn't have done that.” “So why didn't he use it? There were times we barely had any money. If all that money was just sitting there, why didn't he use it? Things could have been so much easier.” “Well, it was the Potter vault, so he had a hard time gaining access to begin with. He did use it on occasion, though.” “When?” Harry scoffed. “We never seemed to have much money.” “Well, think about it. You just said there wasn't much money, and yet, I seem to recall him saying he'd ordered some American sweets for you a time or two. That couldn't have been cheap. And then there's the birthday presents. Like the time you went for that Quidditch Fun Day. That was free, but the food and the souvenirs weren't. He always tried to save money for your birthday gifts, he told me, and with the exception of a few years, he managed fine. It was only when money was extra tight that he dipped into that vault and only ever took what he thought would be enough. He saw it as your inheritance, and he wanted it to remain largely intact.” Sirius waited for everything he'd told Harry to actually register. He knew the instant they had, for Harry's expression cleared, his shoulders drooping. “Oh. I never even realized.” Sirius heard the guilt in Harry's voice, and tightened his grip on Harry's shoulders. “Because you weren't meant to. It's the parents' or guardian's job to worry about money, not the child's. He did what he thought was best. Don't be upset with him.” Harry solemnly nodded, his gaze downcast. “I suppose we really didn't lack much. We had clothes, food, and shelter. I guess that's what's most important.” Sirius ruffled Harry's hair, a sad smile on his face. “Good man.” Harry met Sirius's gaze again. “Oh, another thing I wanted to ask you. I'm supposed to be learning the Shield Charm. Will you teach me? And help me train physically, as well as magically? I wanted to ask you that on Friday, but I didn't catch you in time, and Saturday I was too tired to do much.” Once again, Sirius was caught off guard and floundered momentarily, his mouth opening with no sound escaping. Then he gathered his wits about him enough to respond. “I think I can take care of the Shield Charm, Harry, but why ask me to train you? Wouldn't Dumbledore be a better choice for that?” Sirius watched as Harry clamped his jaw shut, anger stirring in eyes so much like Lily's. “He and I don't agree at the moment. He wants me to wait around and be a good little boy until he decides it's time for me to begin training.” “I'm sure he only wants the best for you. He probably just wants you to have some fun and enjoy things for a while before you have to get serious about stuff.” “And what happens if one of Voldemort's followers somehow gains access to the school again? What happens if I'm attacked and can't defend myself? What if I get killed because I didn't know enough, wasn't strong enough to last in a duel until help arrived?” “Harry, you're surrounded by professors. I don't think you have to worry about that.” Sirius felt a shudder run through him at the coldness in Harry's eyes. His godson's next words drove home the fact that, regardless of what he, Sirius, thought, Harry was growing up. “And yet, Pettigrew was in the castle undetected,” Harry argued, “and a hunter tried to kill me by coming through the Forbidden Forest and did kill Uncle Remus. I don't want to be caught unprepared again. I want to be able to defend myself and whomever happens to be with me.” Resigned, Sirius nodded. “When would you like to start?” “Tomorrow?” “How about this? Start with running. Remus had mentioned you were supposed to be doing that, but he didn't think you'd ever gotten around to it.” “No, I haven't,” Harry sheepishly replied. “Alright. I want you to start running in the morning before breakfast.” Sirius looked away, thinking. “But where? It's really too cold outside.” “I know of a place. It's on the seventh floor, not far from the Fat Lady's portrait.” Sirius was puzzled. He didn't recall anything more than portraits and empty corridors on that floor. “Are you sure, Harry?” “Positive.” “Okay. Let's meet right after dinner tonight, then. I'll hang around near the Fat Lady's painting and wait for you, and you can show me where you're talking about. Then, when we start your training in earnest, we can meet there.” Harry gave Sirius a small smile. “Sounds good. And thanks for not trying to treat me like a little kid.” Sirius ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. “Kiddo, like it or not, you're still young.” As Harry started to protest, Sirius held up a finger to forestall the boy. “However, you're making some incredibly mature decisions. Maybe you're more half kid and half adult.” Sirius's gray eyes glittered with amusement. “Oh wait, that's a teenager. Yes, you are definitely that.” Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course I am. I'm thirteen, after all.” Sirius, for a moment, sadly gazed down at his late best friend's son. He hated the idea that the weight of the Wizarding world rested on Harry's shoulders, although it appeared that Harry just may be up to the task. “I'll train you if you agree to whatever schedule I set up. No complaints. No arguments. Are you willing to do that?” Harry's gaze narrowed a bit. “I'm not sure I like that condition, but I'll agree to it as long as you explain your reasoning behind your choices.” Sirius wanted to grin. His godson was sharp, there was no denying that. “Okay, Harry. Is it a deal, then?” “Deal.” Sirius allowed the smile he previously held back to now show. “Now, go find your main reason for surviving this coming war and take some time to enjoy yourself. Just not too much.” He wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully and laughed at how red Harry turned. “Go on, now. I have a schedule to set up.” Sirius watched Harry disappear through the door and sighed heavily. “Remus, help me figure out how to help him the most.” “This is absolutely amazing, Harry!” Harry and Ginny stood inside the magical room–the Room of Requirement the elves had called it–and watched his godfather wander. Currently, the room was a winding forest path with leaves littering the ground from trees that stretched out to infinity on each side of the trail. Splotches of sunlight dappled the path here and there. As Harry studied it ahead and behind them, the running route appeared to gently rise and fall as well as twist and turn. Birds conversed high in the treetops. The air was at that perfect temperature, not hot, but not cold, either. Harry grinned at his godfather's gobsmacked expression. “Think this will do?” Sirius spun around, his gray eyes sparkling, grinning hugely. “Absolutely! I can't believe we never found this room! How did you come across it?” Harry's playful mood evaporated instantly. “The first time someone attacked me, forcing me to transform again. I was practicing my Summoning Charm up here with Ginny, Hermione, and Neville, who were on the floor below. This door showed up in the wall, and Ginny and Hermione helped me in here so I could change without endangering anyone.” “And Dumbledore still hasn't discovered who did it?” “Not that I know of. Ginny thinks it was Malfoy. After all, everyone knows we don't get along, but as far as I know, his wand's been checked.” “So, you're not convinced that it was him.” “No, but I'm also not convinced it wasn't. He strikes me as the type who would know how to get around certain things, like concealing what spells his wand has performed.” Thoughtfully, Sirius nodded. “Yeah, that wouldn't surprise me, either. I think it's time I had a little chat with our esteemed headmaster. I want some answers and it sounds as if he's either not giving them, or he's not doing enough to find them.” Sirius's expression became one of absolute determination. “Alright, Harry. In the morning, I want you to run for thirty minutes or you make a complete circuit, whichever comes first. Ginny, it wouldn't be a bad idea if you joined him.” “Before breakfast?” Ginny looked a little ill at the thought. Sirius grinned. “Yes, before breakfast. Sorry. No more lazy days for the two of you. If you want to survive any encounter you may have with Death Eaters, you're going to need some endurance, and while Quidditch is great exercise, it won't help in that area.” The mocking grin melted away, his entire countenance becoming grim. “Harry, are you sure you'll be up for this tomorrow? You're already going to be sore and everything from last night. This running will only make you more so until you adjust.” “I'll be fine. It might even help. Who knows?” “Well, don't forget to stretch out first and to warm up or you could injure yourselves.” For the next few minutes, Sirius outlined some stretching and warm up exercises for them. Once he was sure they understood the importance of performing them, he left them, stating he was feeling fairly tired. Harry yawned and nodded, totally agreeing with that sentiment. “Come on, Harry. Let's go back. You should probably call it a night so you can get plenty of sleep.” Harry started to protest, but yawned again instead. “See? You're going to be needing all the energy you can possibly gather, so it's off to bed with you.” Warmth spread through Harry's chest at his girlfriend's obvious concern. He slipped his hand into hers, another smile toying with his mouth until another yawn threatened. He managed to suppress it, but barely. “I don't know why I'm suddenly so tired. I was fine just a few minutes ago.” Ginny led him through the Room's door and back down the hallway. “I'm thinking you were excited to show Sirius the room. That, and the fact that now you're going to be taking a more direct approach to things. You probably had some adrenaline running through you, but now, the excitement of showing off the room is gone. Your body is begging for rest.” Harry's brows rose in surprise and not a little awe. “How do you know all this?” Ginny, mischief dancing in her eyes and mirrored in her smile, said to him, “Hermione's not the only girl you know who reads.” Then she stopped in the middle of the hallway, more serious, and looked into Harry's now emerald green eyes. “When I found out about your lycanthropy, I wanted to know everything I could. I wanted to be prepared so I could help you when you needed it. I wanted to understand how it affected you, physically.” Touched, Harry caressed Ginny's cheek with his free hand. “That's incredibly sweet, Ginny,” he softly said. “And you found a book, I take it? I didn't know one even existed.” “Well, Charlie found one. It was old, about one hundred years old, I think, but it explained enough. As I read through it, I recognized I had seen in you a lot of the effects it talked about.” “And that's why you always encouraged me to sleep just before and right after the full moon. I had wondered how it was that you understood exactly what I needed, and didn't seem to give it a second thought. Do you still have this book?” Then, her words clicked in his tired brain. “Hang on. You said you asked about a book when you found out. That was in October. Are you saying Charlie knew my secret? He didn't act like it at Christmas.” “Oh, no, I didn't tell him. I just said I had read a passage about werewolves in Hermione's Defense text, which I had, and wanted to know more. I figured he had a better chance at knowing if there was one out there.” She didn't say Charlie had the best chance because he was into magical creatures, but she didn't have to. “Anyway, a few days later, Charlie sent me this book, Lies About Lycanthropy. It really was informative. It dispels a lot of the myths and misunderstandings about the condition. I do still have it. Do you want it?” “I wouldn't mind taking a look through it, see how accurate it really is. Why is there not any more of these books out there?” “I don't know, Harry.” Ginny began walking again, her next words laced with humor. “Maybe you can write a new one. You know it would sell.” “Only because it had my name on it,” Harry retorted with derision. He hated the fame that came with his scar. “And that would be so bad? I mean, at least they'd read it, right?” “I suppose.” Harry wasn't convinced they would. Their conversation stopped upon reaching the Fat Lady's portrait. After giving her the password and entering the common room, Ginny pushed him toward the boys' stairs. “Go get some sleep, Harry. I'll see you in the morning. What time do you want to meet?” “Let's try six o'clock. If that ends up being too much time or not enough, we can adjust.” “Alright, Harry, six o'clock it is,” Ginny grumbled. Reaching up, she pulled Harry's forehead to her and kissed him there. “Sleep well.” “Yeah, I hope to,” Harry said through another yawn. At the end of the required thirty minutes the next morning, Harry collapsed onto the ground, barely able to breathe, a cramp in his side making him almost whimper with each breath. His shirt, soaked in sweat, clung to his torso. Sweat dribbled into his eyes, but he didn't have the energy to wipe it away and so had to endure the sting. He felt as if he'd just been trampled by a herd of centaurs, had fallen off his broom at a great height, then been whipped around by the school's Whomping Willow. He tried to move, groaning as his muscles seized up and refused to work. Beside him, Ginny didn't seem much better. She currently lay on his left, panting, hair escaping her ponytail, her face flushed from her exertion. In Harry's opinion, she looked very pretty. Something stirred low in his belly, which gave him the necessary motivation to stand and put a little distance between them. “Come on, Ginny,” he huffed. “We need to stretch out again.” Ginny groaned. “I don't know if I can, Harry. Can't I just lie here for a while?” “Sorry, Ginny, but no. You heard Sirius. If we don't stretch out again, we'll never make it up and down the school stairs. I want you to be fighting at my side, Ginny. In order for you to be, you have to train with me.” “Okay, okay. I'm getting up.” Ginny winced and hissed as she gained her feet. “Alright, I'm up. Happy now?” Harry grinned. “Very. Now, come on over here and loosen up again.” Harry led the two of them to a grassy spot next to a tree. Right hand on the tree to help keep his balance, Harry slowly lifted his left foot behind him and grasped it with his left hand, grimacing a bit at the pull in his thigh. Half a minute later, he switched feet. Once his quads were taken care of, Harry moved on to his calf and hamstring stretches. By the time he'd finished releasing the tension in his lower back, Ginny was finishing with her hamstrings. Glancing at the clock the room had provided just above the door, Harry saw that it was eight o'clock. “Hey, Ginny, I think we may need to get up a little earlier tomorrow. Breakfast is starting.” “Ugh, Harry, really?” Ginny walked over to where Harry stood, looked at the clock, and groaned. “I guess we should. Come on, let's get our showers done. I'm starving.” Thursday evening saw Harry, Ginny, and Sirius in the Room of Requirement so Harry could practice the Shield Charm. Ginny sat on a fluffy cushion off to the side so as not to be a distraction, her own attention wavering between the spellwork before her and her homework . Harry and Sirius stood several feet apart, facing each other, the classic positioning of a duel. Sirius had been sending mild spells at Harry for half an hour, none of which were blocked. Frustrated that another Stinging Hex connected, he practically yelled the incantation while using the parrying motion necessary when Sirius sent another jinx Harry's way. This time it partially worked. “That was excellent, Harry. Well done.” “It didn't block it, though,” Harry mulishly replied. “Maybe not, but the spell's path was deflected enough to miss you. That's progress.” Harry sulkily shrugged. “I guess I just thought I'd do better. I'm doing a lot better in my classes now.” “Harry,” Sirius patiently said, walking over, “this spell is a lot tougher than what you're doing in class. Frankly, I'm impressed you've gotten even this far already. Keep in mind that even a lot of adults can't do this spell very well. Don't be so hard on yourself. Okay?” At Harry's nod, Sirius backed up. “Then let's go a few more rounds before we quit.” Five minutes later, Sirius called a halt to the practice. Only once more had Harry managed to deflect the spell enough to miss him. Upset with himself, Harry dropped to the floor beside Ginny, took out what he needed to record his progress, or lack thereof, for Professor Flitwick, and angrily scribbled in his journal. He looked up when the room's door opened, admitting Dumbledore, a few books in his hands. Rather quickly, Harry stood, tensed for another argument. “Good evening, Sirius. I hope I am not interrupting.” “Not at all. We were just finishing up.” “Excellent.” Dumbledore turned to Harry, an air of regret about him. “I am truly sorry, Harry, for thinking I know what is best for you. I have come to realize that you, and you alone, can make that decision. I hope you will accept my apologies, and that you will accept these.” The Headmaster held out the books. “They hold a great deal of information. Some of it you may find useful.” Harry hesitated. In the end, he reached out and took the books. After reading the spines–the books centered on Defensive Magic–Harry met the older wizard's gaze. “Thank you, sir. I'm sure they'll help me a lot.” “Thank you, Harry, for not holding a grudge.” Harry shrugged. “I need information, sir. When it comes to me, I can't exactly afford to turn it down, no matter whom it comes from. Besides, you're highly respected for a reason. I'd be stupid to reject any information you could give me.” Dumbledore laid a hand upon Harry's shoulder, looked over his half-moon glasses into Harry's eyes. “You are a remarkable young man, though I should not be surprised. Both your parents were, as well, in their own ways. When your time comes, Harry, you will be ready–and you will win.” The vote of confidence bolstered Harry. He stood up straighter, his shoulders back. His chin lifted resolutely. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me.” “One other thing I would like to discuss with you. Professor Snape has dissected the information regarding the suppression of the werewolf transformations and believes the research to be sound. Should I ask him to begin the necessary potion? Keep in mind, it could be dangerous to experiment in this way.” “You found a way to put an end to the transformations?” Sirius asked, shock radiating from him. “Why am I just now hearing about this?” Then Dumbledore's cautious warning registered, snapping him back to reality. “Hold on. There's no way I'm going to let you experiment on Harry.” Harry frowned at Sirius. “I need to do this, Sirius. If my transformations can be overcome, just think what that would mean. I won't have to worry about infecting anyone else. I won't be hurting for a week or two every month, not to mention the pain of the transformations themselves. Uncle Remus would have tried it. You know he would have.” “Sirius,” Dumbledore added, “I would not have even mentioned this if I did not believe it could be done.” Sirius's gaze took in the determined stance of his godson and sighed. “I'm not entirely sure experimentation is the way to go, but Harry, if you want to try it, and since Dumbledore seems convinced it'll work, then I'll support your decision.” Harry instantly relaxed, giving his godfather a quick hug. “Thanks, Sirius. I'm not making the decision lightly. I can promise you that. If something were to go wrong...I mean, the prophecy and all that... I just have a feeling it's going to work.” “I hope you're right, kiddo,” Sirius said with a small smile and ruffled Harry's hair. “Very well. I shall notify Professor Snape to begin the potion. When it is ready, Madame Pomfrey will administer it and watch you closely for any adverse reactions. I believe it will be ready in time for the next full moon.” “Thank you, sir,” Harry said, unable to keep his joy hidden. “Harry, it's getting close to curfew,” Sirius warned after glancing at his watch. “You and Ginny need to get back.” “Alright. We'll see you later.” Books under one arm and Ginny's hand in Harry's free hand, the pair left the Room of Requirement feeling quite a bit more charitably towards the Headmaster than they had since their last meeting. As they walked the short distance to Gryffindor tower, Harry noticed Ginny's silence. “You're awfully quiet.” A few steps from the Fat Lady's portrait, Ginny stopped and met Harry's mildly concerned gaze. “Please don't be mad at me, but I'm just wondering if this is really the right thing to do. I mean, what if this potion hurts you in some way? I don't know what I'd do if it hurt you somehow. You're my best friend, Harry. I don't want to lose you.” “You won't.” “But you don't know that for sure. There has to be a reason why this potion was never marketed.” “Ginny,” Harry hesitated, trying to find the right words to convey exactly what he was feeling. “I know that it sounds like a crazy gamble, but I really do feel that it'll work. I can't say why I feel that way. Something is just telling me that it will. Call it instinct or whatever. As for the prophecy, that's one of the reasons why I'm doing this. I know Voldemort and I will come face to face some day, and if I don't have to deal with the side effects of the transformations when that happens, I'll have an even better chance of winning. Don't you see? He knows I'm a werewolf. If he wanted to defeat me, all he'd have to do is force a confrontation either during the full moon or the week leading up to or after it. I certainly wouldn't be at my best and I have to be if I'm going to win.” Ginny nodded in understanding. “I guess I'm just scared.” Harry let go of Ginny's hand, brought his arm up to wrap around her shoulders, and pulled her close. He gave the top of her head a quick kiss, closing his eyes and inhaling the flowery scent that was Ginny. “You're not the only one,” he whispered. Ginny took a half-step back before pulling him down for a soft, lingering kiss. When she pulled back, Harry noticed with relief that her expression had changed. Instead of worry and doubt swimming in her amber eyes, fierce resolution glittered there. “Then let's get your furry little problem taken care of.” Harry grinned. When she'd expressed her doubts about that potion, he'd worried he'd have to go through it alone, for there was no way he was going to pass on the opportunity to keep the wolf side of his life at bay. He should have known her better than that. Even if she had disagreed with him entirely, she would have stayed with him through it all. Though he had to admit he was glad for her support. “Come on. I'm sure Hermione and Neville are waiting for us.” Ginny smiled, too. “Probably.” Secure in the knowledge that they would be tackling this newest issue together, the two entered the common room and greeted their friends. |
| Reviews 272 |
Previous Next
|
