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SIYE Time:18:26 on 28th March 2024
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The Power of Emotion
By melindaleo

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Category: Post-OotP
Characters:All
Genres: Angst, Fluff, Drama
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 1023
Summary: As Harry struggles to come to terms with the events of his 5th year, can he learn to depend on those he calls family and become what he needs to be in order to survive? Can a certain sister of a friend show him there are still things worth fighting for?
Hitcount: Story Total: 208481; Chapter Total: 10762







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Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I’m just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended. The Chapter title belongs to Matchbox 20. I love that song and it makes me think of Harry’s state of mind at this point in the story.


 


Chapter Six


A Little Unwell



As the week went by Harry realized that although it was hard to be back at Grimmauld Place at first, it was getting easier. Harry found he liked to have the company and the awful weight of loneliness was lifting. He still felt the heavy emptiness of loss when thinking of Sirius, but the mentions of his name didn’t sting quite as badly and he found himself thinking of the good times too, not just the veil. Moony was also looking better and Harry was surprised to discover that actually talking about Sirius with Moony helped, rather than hurt. It seemed to help Remus too.


Remus had come up to see him the day after the meeting and they’d begun talking. He didn’t want to be called Professor Lupin and Harry had trouble with Remus, so they’d settled on Moony and Harry liked that. He somehow felt a connection to both Sirius and his parents by using the nickname. Moony told him how nothing could have kept Sirius away that night. He loved Harry and would have done anything for him. He was going stir crazy in this house and it was only a matter of time. If it hadn’t been that night, it would have been something else, Sirius had had enough of being confined. He died the way he would have wanted, with honor, in battle, and not held up hiding behind anyone else. The only thing that would have hurt Sirius more than anything was knowing how Harry blamed himself. Harry still couldn’t banish that feeling but it had lessened. This was Voldemort’s fault, and he, Harry, had to find a way to stop him. The days went by with games of chess or Exploding Snap, or just talking with his friends. Mrs. Weasley was constantly shoving more food on his plate and Harry did begin to put a bit of weight back on. She constantly would ruffle his hair, pat his cheek, or encourage him to have another of whatever she’d made. He found himself enjoying the attention and even though he was frustrated when she began to treat him too much like a child, he was warmed by it nonetheless. No one had ever done these things for him before and he found it was rather nice. The dark circles remained beneath his eyes, but he’d begun to look healthier than when he’d first arrived.


The nights were still the worst. He was only allowed to take the Dreamless Sleep Potion every third or fourth night and the nightmares in between were brutal. Ron watched in confusion the first night as Harry emptied the trash bin before turning in for the night and placed in next to his bed. He understood later when he was awakened to Harry’s screaming and clutching his head in pain. Ron watched as Harry rolled over and used the bucket to be sick upon awakening. These visions occurred more and more frequently as Voldemort’s activities increased. Muggle newspapers had begun to carry stories of the strange deaths and unexplained happenings. They were unable to find a cause of death in the increasing number of victims, and at a loss to explain the strange fireworks that appeared in the sky. Rumors of a terrorist threat using biochemical warfare led the headlines with panic over a plague filling the newscasts. Harry vaguely wondered what the Dursley’s reactions were to all these events.


Harry was having at least one vision each night; his screaming would awaken a terrified Ron, who would try and rouse his rigid friend or shake him from his seizure while calling for help. More often than not, Harry would be physically ill after one of these visions. He was embarrassed by constantly interrupting everyone’s sleep and knew the tired look on all their faces was due to him. He apologized profusely and repeatedly to whoever entered the room and tried to shoo them back to bed immediately. Harry planned to ask Ron to put a silencing charm around his bed as soon as they returned to Hogwarts and were allowed to do magic again. One night, after a particularly bad attack (as Harry had come to call them), he was again apologizing and Molly was exasperated, "There’s nothing to be sorry about Harry, you can’t help them. I’m just sorry you have to be put through this. Who would ever be upset with someone for having a nightmare?" Harry’s withdrawn, downcast expression told her all she needed to know. ‘Damn those Dursleys to hell,’ she thought venomously.


Harry was still dreaming of Sirius falling through the veil too. At these times, it was Ginny who usually entered his room offering quiet comfort. She never said much, just rubbed a hand through his hair and gently soothed him back to sleep. He wasn’t sure how she always knew when to come, but she never brought it up so he didn’t either. Harry had been avoiding Ginny a bit, still embarrassed about breaking down on her. He really wished he hadn’t done that. He hated showing weakness more than anything. She didn’t mention it, and certainly didn’t seem to be treating him any differently, so gradually he was letting it go. He found his eyes wandering to her more and more often when he knew she wasn’t looking. He couldn’t quite figure out what it was about her that had changed so. She’d grown up, she wasn’t the same little girl he’d met on Platform 9 3/4 all those years ago, but it wasn’t something physical. There was a power about Ginny, a sense, a feeling that he couldn’t put a name to but found himself being drawn to it like a moth to a flame. She confused yet intrigued him, like a puzzle he needed to work out.


For her part, Ginny was well aware of the intense looks Harry was giving her and she tried to ignore them. She could never figure out what was going on behind those intense green eyes. She liked that he was looking though and was annoyed that she liked it. She got over Harry a long time ago, she wasn’t going back to that painful stage of her life. She didn’t look at Harry that way! Still, each night as she snuggled closer to him and soothed him back to sleep after his torturous dreams, she couldn’t help feel that flutter in her stomach or squash the overwhelming desire to protect him and take some of the pain from his eyes. ‘But I don’t like him that way!’ she’d insist to that annoying little voice inside her head.


It was Hermione, she’d moved into Grimmauld Place the day after Harry arrived, who’d asked her what was going on as they lay in bed in their shared room the previous night. She’d caught the older girl watching her and knew that she, too, was aware of the looks Ginny was receiving from Harry. The two had just settled down and said goodnight when Hermione’s voice broke the darkness, "Ginny?"


"Hmmm?"


"What’s going on between you and Harry?"


Ginny felt her heart start to beat faster, "What do you mean?"


"He watches you."


"Harry watches everyone, he’s always been observant."


"Maybe. He talked to you that night in Sirius’ room though, didn’t he? About that night."


Ginny had known this was coming, she’d just wanted to avoid it, "A bit."


"About Sirius?"


"He misses him."


"Yeah. How did you get him to talk?"


Somehow, Ginny knew Harry wouldn’t want her to give his confidences away, but she also knew how tenacious Hermione could be when she wanted to understand something. "I asked him."


"You asked him? That never works with Harry!" Hermione’s voice sounded annoyed and its tone was rising. Ginny remained silent.


"You asked what was wrong and he just told you?" she persisted.


"Yes."


"Ginny, what are you hiding? Why are you being so evasive?"


"I don’t mean to be Hermione, I just don’t think it’s my place to tell you what’s on his mind. Besides, I get the feeling that you’re annoyed it was me he chose to talk to."


"Don’t be ridiculous! I’m thrilled he’d actually admit something was wrong, I just can’t understand why he won’t talk to Ron and I!"


"I’m sure he will, when he’s ready."


Hermione rolled over and pulled up her covers. Ginny could hear the disgruntled way she did this but couldn’t think of what else to say. She could see how Harry pulled away from her insistence on knowing everything but couldn’t tell Hermione that. She wasn’t going to get in the middle of this; she’d finally been accepted into their little group, she wasn’t about to start making waves now.


That had been last night and all seemed fine today. Hermione and Ron seemed to be happily making goo goo eyes at each other and Hermione was perfectly friendly with Ginny. She caught Harry’s eyes on her again and this time turned to stare right back at him. She saw a blush rise to his cheeks as he quickly looked away. She shrugged and went back to reading her book.



Harry decided he had to do something to get his mind off the puzzle of Ginny Weasley. It had been quiet at headquarters all day and there didn’t seem to be much activity in the house. Harry hadn’t seen Dumbledore since that first night, but knew he was just putting off the inevitable. While thinking of Sirius was growing easier, thoughts of the Prophesy were getting harder and harder to push aside. Harry always felt on the verge of panic if he thought too much about it and knew he’d have to broach the subject with Dumbledore sooner rather than later. He decided to ask Moony how much he knew and maybe see where to go from there. He wasn’t sure where Moony was but headed up to his room, figuring he’d start there. He could hear voices from inside, it sounded like Moony and Tonks, so Harry opened the door and walked inside, feeling his breath catch in his throat.


Moony sat in a chair by the fireplace with a huge grin on his face staring at the other occupant of the room who stood by the window. There, in full living, breathing color stood Sirius, well and alive as could be! Harry let out a gasp as he felt all the color drain from his face. He stepped back against the wall, as his legs give out and he slid down to the floor. He was fighting for air and couldn’t see through his suddenly blurred vision. The smile had disappeared from Moony’s face and he was at Harry’s side like a shot. Sirius was replaced by the face of a horrified looking Tonks, who also rushed over to the two on the floor, "Oh shit Harry, I’m so sorry! I never would have done that if I knew you were there!"


Harry was just staring at her in dull shock, still confused by what just happened. Moony helped him to his feet and walked him over to the bed; "I’m sorry Harry that must have been a shock."


"I-I d-don’t understand," he stammered.


"I was just fooling around Harry," Tonks apologized, "I was telling Remus how rare it is for a Metamorphmagus to be able to do cross-gender transformation. There are so few of us as it is, never mind being able to control it to that extent. When I first learned I had inherited the ability; I was suppose to practice on family members, it’s easier to begin transforming into those who share similar characteristics. I was telling Remus how Sirius used to get such a hoot out of me doing him and Remus wanted to see. Bloody Hell, I’m so sorry, Harry!"


"S’alright," Harry whispered. In truth, he felt as if he’d just been punched really hard in the gut and he wanted nothing more than to flee the room and the concerned stares the other two were giving him. His curiosity won out however; "Sirius liked to see you do that?"


Tonks smiled sadly, "He thought it was a riot to see a scaled down version of himself!"


"Scaled down?"


"Well, I can change my features to match his, but I can’t control my height or body frame. That’s why it’s difficult to duplicate someone exactly. Sirius said he wished he’d inherited the ability, it would have solved a lot of his problems. The ability runs on my mother’s side, though she’s not a Metamorphmagus either. I think it’s always bothered her that the ability bypassed her but ended up with me."


"It’s just you in your family?"


"As far as I know. My grandmother was one, though Mum says not as advanced as me. Mum always used to try and imitate her but never had any luck. She’s a Healer at St. Mungo’s and she said she’s never seen anyone who could transfer as far as me."


"Tonks was telling me how much Sirius would laugh when she’d put on his face, I asked her to show me, that’s when you came in. I’m sorry Harry, we didn’t mean to upset you. I can see how Sirius would enjoy that though, I’m sure his mind was plotting tons of clever scenarios in which to use your talent Tonks," Remus laughed fondly.


Remus was watching Harry closely, all the color still hadn’t returned to his face, "Was there something you needed to see me about, Harry?"


"Er… yeah. I was wondering if I could ask you something?"


"Why don’t I leave you to it, then?" Tonks said as she slipped past Moony and out the door, "I’ll see you later Remus." An odd look passed between the two of them and it suddenly occurred to Harry that Moony and Tonks had been spending an awful lot of time together recently.


"What can I do for you Harry?" Moony asked gently.


Suddenly, Harry found he didn’t want to talk about the Prophesy. His head was aching and his stomach was starting to roil he thought he’d rather just go lie down. "It’s nothing Moony. D’you think we could talk about it tomorrow?"


"Anytime you want to talk, I’m always here Harry. I want you to believe that. I’m sorry we gave you such a shock."


"I shouldn’t be just walking into your bedroom anyway," Harry grinned as the older man suddenly colored a bit.


"We were just talking."


Harry raised his eyebrows and Moony began fumbling on his desk, "Tomorrow then? Good night Harry."


"Goodnight Moony."



Harry’s head was really beginning to throb and he considered asking Mrs. Weasley if she had anything for it, but decided he didn’t want to deal with her fussing. He was just going to say goodnight to Ron and Hermione and head up to bed. He poked his head into the living room and stopped in his tracks. Ron and Hermione were lying on the couch, snogging to beat the band!


Harry knew they were together, they’d talked to him about it the day after he’d arrived, but this was the first time he’d actually seen it, they were very discreet around him. Harry stood frozen in his tracks, his mind unable to completely comprehend what he was seeing. He suddenly was very glad they were discreet around him because this was just gross! It was at this moment Ginny entered the room and took in the sight of Ron and Hermione on the couch, blissfully unaware of their company and Harry standing there like a deer caught in the headlights, this was just too good to pass up! "Get up you too, I think you just scarred Harry for life!"


Ron and Hermione broke apart and pulled to opposite ends of the couch. Hermione’s hair was in disarray and both their breathing was labored. "Really, you too," Ginny went on, a merry twinkle in her eye, "You have to find some more private places for this. It’s revolting to walk in on; I don’t want to see it. Do you Harry?"


Harry’s eyes were round and wide, he just stood there staring at her as if he didn’t quite know what to make of her. Or maybe it was just the situation. Hermione seemed to have recovered as she joined Ginny in teasing Harry, "Oh come on Harry, its not like you’ve never snogged anyone before!"


"Yeah," chimed Ginny, "Cho Chang told the whole school about the two of you under the mistletoe."


Harry’s face colored as bright as a Weasley, "I. . .Not. . .What? She what?"


Ginny burst into a fit of giggles at the look on his face, "Not the most discreet, that one!"


Harry was really feeling sick; "I’m going to bed. Good night Ginny. Ron and Hermione, continue as you were," he smirked as he left the room with Ginny giggling behind him.


"Goodnight Harry."



*******



"Wands out, d’you reckon?"


"Kill the spare."


"Avada Kedavra."


"He can’t come back Harry, he’s d–"


Harry was standing in an empty graveyard; fog hung in the air making viewing more than a few feet in front of him impossible. Cedric appeared from behind a tombstone, still wearing the robes he’d worn during the Tri-Wizard tournament. Sirius arose next, followed by his mother and father, each from their own graves. They were ghostly images, not quite real and they circled and circled him, their glares cold and accusatory.


"Why Harry?" Sirius.


"You killed me Harry." Cedric.


"It’s your fault Harry." James.


"How could you do this to us Harry?" Lily.


"Noooo," Harry whimpered, desperately shaking his head.


Sirius came closer, right up to Harry’s face and Harry could see the decay behind his eyes. The foul stench of rot was overpowering and Harry fought the urge to retch. The others gathered behind him, holding him in place and not allowing him to flee, "We all died for you Harry. It’s all because of you!"


Harry moaned and tried to pull away, Sirius kept coming, no matter which way Harry turned he was there, accusing, hating, angry. Suddenly, his blue eyes turned to red and Harry was staring into the evil snakelike face of his lifelong enemy. The scar on his forehead exploded in agony as Voldemort hissed, "I know you’re here Potter, and I know you’re afraid. You fear for the lives of those you love. You should be afraid. I will hunt down and kill everyone you hold dear until there is no one left. Then I will come for you. You can not beat me, no one can. So who shall it be next, Potter? Whom do you want to lead to their grave next?"



"Harry!. . .Harry!.. . Harry! Wake up, Harry! Come on, you’re all right."


Harry awoke with a start, breathing heavy in desperate need to fill his lungs. His head felt like it was splitting down the middle and he held both hands to it, as if trying to keep it together. Mrs. Weasley was sitting on the bed with him, her hands on his shoulders, her eyes full of concern. Lupin stood above them both, next to Ron who was pacing back and forth. Though Harry didn’t have on his glasses, he could make out blurs of brown and red by the door and assumed it was the girls come from across the hall. Harry was shaking and futilely trying to keep the contents of his stomach. Finally giving up, he pushed Mrs. Weasley away and once again retched into the bin. When he was through, Mrs. Weasley did a quick "Scourgify" with her wand before wiping his mouth and brow with a wet washcloth and gently eased him back on to his pillow. "What happened, Harry?" Moony asked, breaking the tense silence.


"Voldemort. He spoke to me."


"Spoke to you? What do you mean he spoke to you?"


"He knew I was there."


"What did he say?"


Harry’s mind was going over the dream and he shut his eyes tightly. The pain in his scar was receding, but being replaced by a searing pain in his heart. He felt the corners of his eyes prickle and he fought to maintain his composure, "Dumbledore. I need to talk to Dumbledore." Harry felt a single tear streak along his cheek and angrily wiped it away.


"We’ll let him know Harry," he heard Mrs. Weasley take over. He could sense her glaring at Moony willing him not to press Harry further and was grateful to her for it. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He was extremely pale and Molly continued to stroke his hair as his breathing returned too normal. He heard the room clear out and Ron climb back into his own bed. Harry said nothing but waited patiently letting Ron’s breathing fall into a deep regular rhythm. Once he was sure Ron was asleep, he sat up and adjusted his pillow to support his back, he knew sleep would not be returning tonight. Voldemort knew he was there. He’d threatened the Weasleys, Hermione and Lupin. They were the ones closest to Harry. There had to be a way to keep them safe! So help him, he wouldn’t lose anyone else! So lost was he in his own tortured thoughts, he didn’t hear the door quietly open again and Ginny make her way to his side. "Are you okay?" she whispered. When Harry didn’t answer she sat on the edge of his bed and began her nightly ritual of running her fingers through his hair, calming him. Abandoning all pretense of dignity, Harry snuggled in close to her and leaned his head into her hand. Too tired to care what she thought, he pressed against her and shut his eyes. He wanted comfort and a human touch, she was offering it and it soothed him. After a few minutes of silence, the gentle feel of her fingers lulled him and he began to drift off to sleep. Right before the darkness claimed him, he thought he felt the soft flutter of a gentle butterfly kiss on his scar.



 


A/N: Been away for the weekend and had a ball at a SuperBowl party! Hooray Patriots!! I’m a New England girl and we partied!!!!



Please R/R and let me know what you think, I’m still anxious about this!!



 



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