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Shadow of the Serpent | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure Warnings: Death, Extreme Language, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 537 Summary: **June Dumbledore Silver Trinket Award Winner for Best Angst, and May winner for Best Author** Harry is whisked away to an ancient island to be trained in Occlumency. What he finds is another complication to add to his already complicated life. Will friendship, love, loyalty, bravery, and honor be enough to save him from the Shadow of the Serpent that haunts his life? H/G angst/action adventure. Hitcount: Story Total: 152119; Chapter Total: 5400 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Sorry to make you wait for this new chapter. I have been trying to get PS caught up with everyone else, but finally decided I couldn't make you suffer any more. Hope you enjoy it. |
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Disclaimer: The characters and situations of Harry Potter depicted in this story are the legal property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury, and AOL Time Warner, and have been used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made off this story. It is for entertainment purposes only. Chapter Eighteen “Confrontations” Saturday rolled around soon enough and it was time for tryouts. The only other thing to happen to mar the week was a very unpleasant first Potions class which included, to Harry’s displeasure, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Draco Malfoy once again. It seemed those three were destined to follow him around all week — they were in virtually every class with him. The morning of tryouts was crisp and clear but not too cold, perfect Quidditch weather. He was excited by the number of prospective candidates for the team but he suspected more than a few of them had signed up for other reasons. The vast majority seemed to be young girls fourth year and below. Still, he was hopeful that there might be a few good prospects in the lot. Harry met Ron and Ginny in the common room and the three of them were just starting out the door when Hermione came rushing up from behind. “You weren’t going to leave me, were you?” she asked disapprovingly, slightly out of breath. “Since when are you interested in Quidditch?” Ron asked her. Hermione shrugged. “I always support the Gryffindor team. Besides, this is Harry’s first official duty as Captain and I don’t want to miss it. Just because I don’t play doesn’t mean I don’t care.” Ron looked pleased, especially after she linked arms with him, leaving Harry to walk with Ginny alone. It was the first time he’d had a chance to talk to her without anyone else around. She smiled at him and he was certain she was thinking the same thing. “So, Captain,” she said cheekily. “Are you ready to be impressed beyond belief?” “Hmmm,” Harry said, pretending to think. He wanted to badly to take hold of her hand that he found himself gripping his broom harder than necessary. “The proof’s in the flying, Weasley. You may have done alright as a Seeker last year, but that doesn’t mean you can score.” Ginny’s eyes flashed, latching onto Harry’s challenge. “You think I can’t do it?” she said playfully. Harry shrugged nonchalantly. He knew she could feel his faith in her and was enjoying this game as much as he was. “You’ll have to be fast. I hear you may have competition.” “Like who?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. He could feel her worry creeping in, threatening to shatter her confidence and he certainly didn’t want to do that. “Demelza Robins, for one, but I wouldn’t worry… there are two positions open this year, remember.” They had reached a deserted corridor in the hallway; Ron and Hermione were now well ahead of them and totally engrossed in each other. Harry checked to make sure they were alone before pulling Ginny behind a large statue of Ethelred the Ever-Ready; the statue happened to be next to a darkened alcove where they could be easily obscured from the view of unwanted, prying eyes. “Ginny,” he said seriously. “You understand that I can’t play favourites, don’t you? It’ll look suspicious if I give you a position on the team unless you clearly deserve it.” She started to speak, but he stopped her. “I know you can do this. I’ve seen you fly and I have faith in you.” He pulled the necklace he’d been carrying with him for a week out of his pocket. “I brought this back for you from the island,” he said, handing it to her. Her mouth fell open when she saw it. “Harry, it’s beautiful!” She fingered the turquoise stone set in silver and the turquoise beads that lined the silver chain. “I can’t accept this… it’s too much.” “Nonsense,” Harry said, taking it from her and trying to open the clasp, which proved to be more difficult than he had imagined. He finally gave up and used magic to help him guide it around her neck without her noticing. “I can’t exactly return it, can I? Besides, the Mixtecs believe that when a turquoise is given to another in love, it will bring good luck to the wearer. I think we can use all the luck we can get, don’t you?” Her eyes were wide as she brought her hand up to touch the blue stone nestled at her throat. The chain was long enough that it could easily be hidden under her robes so that no one but she and Harry would ever know it was there. “Thank you, Harry. I love it.” She reached up and gave him a quick peck on the lips but he was ready for her and caught her so she couldn’t back away, deepening the kiss till they were both panting with need and want. Harry had realised how much he had missed that. It was one thing to dream about kissing Ginny, but quite another to actually do it. All this time they had instinctively stayed in the presence of others knowing that once they touched each other again, it would be exponentially harder to keep their distance. They were right. Harry forgot about tryouts, about keeping his distance, about needing to protect Ginny. None of it mattered when she was in his arms like this — nothing except the need to touch her and feel her touch him. For a blissful moment he was lost to the sensations. If Peeves hadn’t taken that precise moment to drop a stink bomb in the corridor, they might have stayed there all day. Groaning, Harry pulled away from her and waved his hand angrily, sending the stink in the opposite direction towards Peeves, forcing the cackling little Poltergeist to flee from his own trap and cursing obscenities as he went. “Harry!” Ginny said in surprise. “You didn’t use your wand!” “I’ll tell you later,” he said, straightening his now wrinkled clothes. He waved his hand over her robes and immediately they were wrinkle-free, too. “Right now I’m late for my own tryouts. We’d better split up or it could look suspicious. You go on ahead and I’ll meet you there.” “You should go first,” Ginny insisted. “You’re the captain. You shouldn’t be late.” “Alright,” Harry agreed. “But don’t be far behind. I don’t like you walking alone, even inside the castle. Anything could happen.” “You worry too much,” Ginny told him with a frown. “With good reason.” He gave her one last kiss on the cheek. “Good luck,” he whispered, “I’ll see you in the air.” With great effort he pulled away and left her in the alcove, racing towards the Quidditch pitch at top speed. He’d do Beaters first, he decided — one of the perks of being Captain was that he ran the tryouts and decided the order they would go in. This job was paying off dividends, already. It was turning out to be a glorious day! *** As it turned out, Ginny had no problem making the team. She out-flew everyone else, and no one but Demelza Robins even came close to her in goal scoring. She managed to knock several good ones in past Ron, who was looking better than ever. Harry also managed to find several good beaters and a few back-up Reserve players, including Dean Thomas, who seemed to only be there so he could stare at Ginny. However, he flew well enough that Harry had to agree to make him a Reserve Chaser, just in case someone got injured. All in all, things were looking up. He was actually feeling very upbeat about his day as he and Ron cleaned up after the tryouts, discussing strategies. As they neared the castle, however, he started getting twinges from Ginny that something was wrong. “Hurry up, Ron,” he said impatiently. “Something’s up with Ginny.” Ron looked alarmed. “Is she in danger?” Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. But something is definitely wrong.” The two of them hurried up the stairs and down the corridor to the seventh floor, only to stop dead in their tracks. Ginny and Dean were standing just outside the portrait hole; they arrived just as Dean leaned in and kissed Ginny’s cheek tenderly. Harry knew he shouldn’t get angry but at that moment, he had no choice. The monster in his chest was roaring and he fought to keep it down as Ginny abruptly pulled away and looked directly at him, a guilty expression on her face. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ron yelled angrily. Dean didn’t seem to find anything wrong with the situation, however. “Hello there, Ron,” he said coolly to Ginny’s shocked brother. “We were just discussing you.” He barely acknowledged Harry, directing most of his attention to Ron. Unlike Dean, Ginny locked eyes with Harry but jerked them away as if stung by his scathing look. Turning to Ron, she addressed him with a stony mask on her face that Harry knew belied her real emotions. Right now the connection between them was wide open and pulsating. She was having a hard time pretending she didn’t feel his anger, and for some unexplainable reason her guilt suddenly turned to rage. “What do you mean, ‘what are we doing?’” she repeated in a controlled, clipped voice. “What does it look like we were doing? Dean asked me out and I accepted.” She refused to meet Harry’s eyes but seemed to shrink a bit when she felt his involuntary fury at the idea. He remained silent, though, because he didn’t trust himself to speak. Ron glanced at Harry but focused on Ginny. “I think that’s a bad idea,” he stated firmly. Ginny wrinkled her nose. “You can’t tell me what to do, Ron,” she said indignantly. Harry was surprised to see that she really was annoyed with Ron. Did she want to go out with Dean instead of him? He was now angry, hurt, and confused… all very terrible emotions to have when trying to maintain an Occlumency block. In one swift motion, his shield cracked and he knew if he didn’t get it under control soon he would create a fissure inside his mind that he could not defend against. The three in the corridor seemed very much unaware of his dilemma, however. Ginny was too angry to notice he was in trouble, and Ron was too focused on Ginny and Dean. “Lay off her, Ron,” Dean said easily, stepping in front of Ginny slightly to protect her from her brother’s wrath and Harry’s piercing gaze. “It was all very innocent, I assure you.” “It didn’t look so innocent to me,” Ron retorted, his eyes narrowed. “In fact, it looked like you were just about ready to snog her.” The image of Ginny kissing Dean and enjoying it was too much for Harry. “Ahhh!!!!” He fell to his knees, clutching his head as the shield inside his mind crashed and the connection between him and Voldemort flew wide open. All three stopped arguing and stared. Harry could feel Ginny’s distress, but he couldn’t focus on it as the snake’s hissing started pounding in his head, drowning out everything around him. He was laughing gleefully… “I knew it wouldn’t be long before your pitiful shield was broken,” the snake said inside his mind. “Your powersss are no match for mine, boy!” “Go away!” he screamed inside his mind. “I’ll never be gone, Harry,” the snake laughed merrily. “We are alwaysss going to be connected, until I kill you. But firssst, I have plansss for you, didn’t you know?” “Plans?” he asked, fighting the panic and pain. “What plans? What are you on about, Tom?” The snake laughed again, doubling his efforts to gain control of Harry, probably in retribution for Harry calling him by his given name. “Now that would ssspoil the fun, wouldn’t it?” the voice hissed. “Ahhhh!!!!” Ginny’s voice drifted into his consciousness. “Harry, fight him!” she screamed, leaning over him. “Tell the tosser to buggar off!” Her encouragement gave him some strength to fight. “Get… Stephen…” Harry managed to grind out. He was sweating profusely and his face was contorted with the effort of keeping Voldemort at bay. He knew he was in danger of being taken over again, and he refused to let it happen. Not here, not now… Not ever. “Go find Professor Hunter,” he heard Ron order Dean, as if from a distance. “Now! Hurry!” Dean shot them a terrified look and rushed off, running at top speed. When he was gone, Ginny leaned in, wrapping her arms around Harry protectively. “I can help you,” she told him. “No!” Harry said forcefully. “He… might… see you. I… can’t… risk… it.” Ginny ignored him and leaned her head into his, placing the cool skin of her forehead up against his throbbing scar. “We can do it together.” Harry couldn’t fight both of them at once. “Okay…” he panted. He didn’t think he had a choice. If he didn’t let Ginny help him, he’d be lost because he couldn’t hold the snake back much longer. “Let go, Harry,” she told him cradling his exhausted body. “Let me in.” He did as she instructed and let go of the hold he had on their connection just as she forced her way in, too. It was like having a battle raging in his mind. As she came in, Tom pushed forward. Harry closed his eyes and remembered Macoa showing him the strands of the connections in his mind. He visualized it and was not surprised to see his and Ginny’s light fuse to fight off the green light that belonged to Voldemort. It seemed to take forever, but finally they managed to repel it enough to give Harry some breathing room. “Imagine the wall, Harry,” Stephen’s voice from far away instructed. “You need to find all the pieces and repair the broken parts. Help him find them, Ginny.” Suddenly there was a wall in front of the green light, weak and crumbling, but mostly intact. “Do you see the broken pieces?” Ginny asked him. “Yes,” Harry answered. “But I’m too tired to fix it.” The image of her and Dean together was creeping into his thoughts again. “Harry,” Ginny said harshly. “Listen to me. I love you, only you. What you saw out there with Dean was not real. You are the only one I want and they only man I will ever want.” “Really?” Confidence began to surge though his body once again and he suddenly felt much stronger. “But I saw-” “You saw me trying to cover for us…” Harry picked up a piece of the broken wall and thrust it back into place. “You saw me angry at Ron for interfering...” Another piece back in place. “You saw my guilt and anger because I was stupid enough to lead Dean on and let you walk up on us like that, totally unprepared.” A huge chunk back in place. “I’m so sorry, Harry.” He could tell she was speaking the truth and with one last effort, the wall was sealed and his mind was quiet once again. Harry opened his eyes with a start. “What happened?” He was leaning against Ginny on the floor, drenched in sweat. She was cradling his head and crying. Stephen was there, too, leaning in with a half scared, half concerned expression on his pale face. Behind him Ron looked white as a ghost and Dean looked totally confused. “You almost did it this time, kid,” Stephen told him ruefully, taking a deep breath and sitting back in relief. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” “It broke,” Harry muttered weakly, sitting up with effort. “Bloody hell… it broke!” “I guess we need to do some more Occlumency work, huh?” Stephen said wryly. “Wh-what just happened?” Dean stuttered uncertainly. All eyes turned to him. “Is this a friend of yours?” Stephen asked curiously. “Sorta,” Harry said, but his eyes told a different story. He still hadn’t totally recovered from seeing his dorm mate with Ginny. “Can he be trusted?” Stephen asked. Harry shrugged. “He’s part of the reason this happened.” “Huh?” Dean said, surprised. “What’d I do?” “No,” Ginny said resolutely. “This was my fault. I’m the one who caused this to happen.” “I shouldn’t have reacted like I did,” Harry insisted. “I knew you were just acting… I could feel it. I just couldn’t stop the feelings of jealousy. And then you and Ron started arguing and I lost it.” Stephen stood up and helped Harry and Ginny to their feet. “I see.” Quickly he spun around and, drawing his wand, pointed the wooden stick at Dean and shouted, “Obliviate!” Dean’s face relaxed blankly. “Bloody hell!” Ron said, jumping. “You’re not going to Obliviate me too, are you?” Stephen laughed. “No, Mr. Weasley. I’m not.” Ron relaxed as Dean came around. He looked confused at first but recovered when Stephen said, “Thank you for finding me so quickly, Mr. Thomas. If I hadn’t gotten here when I did, I’m sure Mr. Potter might have suffered permanent damage from that hex Miss Weasley threw at him.” Stephen turned to Ginny, his back to Dean. Harry saw him wink, but his voice was stern and disapproving. “I think I will see you in detention this Saturday.” Stephen then turned to Harry. “I think you will join her, Mr. Potter.” “What!” Harry exclaimed, almost forgetting that they were pretending. “What’d I do?” “You allowed yourself to get hit by that curse,” Stephen said matter-of-factly, “so the two of you will be practicing your duelling techniques together in detention. I shall see you both in class with the details. Good day.” He walked off down the corridor without another word leaving the four of them to stare after him in astonishment. “Tough luck,” Dean told Ginny. “But that was a really good hex, Ginny.” He looked at Harry in a pitying way. “Too bad you got hit with it. I think she was actually aiming for Ron.” Ginny sighed. “I’m sorry, Harry.” She looked almost as worn out as he felt. “That’s alright, no harm done.” They all moved towards the portrait hole. “But next time try aiming more to the left.” “Yeah,” Ginny muttered. “I’ll definitely do that.” As they walked towards their separate stairwells, Harry leaned in to whisper, “Thanks.” He caught her eyes and tried to communicate everything he couldn’t say aloud. She smiled and turned to go, radiating a feeling that made Harry flush. Climbing the stairs tiredly, he didn’t even notice that Ron had pulled Hermione over to the side of the common room, most likely to fill her in on what had happened. He and Dean ascended the stairs in silence, an undeniable rift between them that one boy didn’t understand but the other couldn’t forget. *** Monday at breakfast, Harry was shocked when Hedwig delivered a letter from Dumbledore asking him and Stephen to meet him in the Headmaster’s office directly after DADA for lunch. As soon as class was over, they set off, Stephen grumbling the whole way about being summoned like a house-elf. Harry paid him no mind; his curiosity piqued because as far as he could remember he had never heard of a student being invited to the Headmaster’s office for lunch. It was all very unusual. They arrived at the gargoyle and Stephen gave the password, stepping aside for Harry to lead them up the stairwell to the heavy wooden door that sat ajar. Harry knocked lightly on the door and Dumbledore voice rang out to enter. He stood to greet them cordially. “Come in, come in.” He checked his pocket watch. “Lunch will be served in precisely two minutes. Sit, please.” He gestured to a table in the corner of the room that had been set for lunch. Four chairs stood vacant. “Is someone joining us, Albus?” Stephen asked the Headmaster gruffly. “You might say that,” a cold voice said from behind. Harry, Stephen, and Dumbledore turned to acknowledge Snape standing in the doorway, his hands crossed over his chest regally and an arrogant, condescending expression plastered on his pallid face. Stephen stiffened. “What’s he doing here?” he asked in an icy, disapproving voice. “I have invited him,” Dumbledore said mildly, “just as I have invited the both of you.” “I have nothing to say to him,” Stephen retorted. “Nor I, to him,” Snape shot back. Dumbledore looked to Harry like a father might when losing his patience with his children. “I want the two of you to stop this nonsense. We have more important issues to discuss than soothing your egos.” The two men looked slightly affronted at the reprimand, but the tension in the room seemed to recede. Dumbledore looked pleased with their efforts. “Now,” he said taking his place at the table and gesturing for them to do the same, “we have some important matters to discuss.” Harry sat across from the Headmaster, which unfortunately put him next to Snape. The older man seemed to be pretending that Harry wasn’t in the room, and was doing a good job of ignoring him but Harry could feel his disapproval at sitting at the same table as Stephen and him — it was obvious he didn’t want to be there any more than Stephen. “Now, first I must ask you, Harry…” Dumbledore said kindly as the lunch appeared, “what exactly happened in the corridor outside the Gryffindor Tower this Saturday?” He calmly reached for a slice of bread and began to butter it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Harry hesitated, but after a glance from Stephen, launched into the story of what had happened, leaving out the small detail of what had caused his breakdown in the first place. It was too strange to discuss his love life in front of his Headmaster and professors, especially Snape. “Am I correct in assuming that something upset you?” Dumbledore asked kindly. “Perhaps enough to allow your Occlumency shield to weaken?” “Yes,” Harry confirmed, steadfastly refusing to look in Snape’s direction. He did not elaborate. “It is not surprising that your pitiful attempt to block the Dark Lord failed,” Snape interjected. “Your skills have obviously not improved.” “Harry is an excellent Occlumens,” Stephen snapped. “His skills are flawless.” “This coming from a man who broke very easily, I am told,” Snape replied lackadaisically. Stephen jumped up, rage burning on his face. “What would you know about that?” he shouted. “I suppose you get your reliable information from your Death Eater friends, huh, Snivellus?” Snape jumped up angrily at the use of the old taunt, more of an insult than any other Harry could imagine knowing what he knew about Snape’s past. “How dare you call me that!” he roared, drawing his wand. Stephen was ready; he didn’t even have to draw his wand. Harry ducked as Snape shot out a hex. Stephen threw up his hands and blocked the spell, sending the jet of light ricocheting off his shield and into Dumbledore’s shelf of delicate instruments — the same ones Harry had smashed once before. “Enough!” Dumbledore roared his voice like thunder. Both men stopped but never took their eyes off the other. Dumbledore drew his wand and waved it angrily. Harry watched in fascination as the objects repaired themselves. Dumbledore sighed. “I had hoped the two of you could work together, but I am learning more and more that it is improbable.” He turned to Harry. “I want you to work with Stephen some more, Harry. It is imperative that you not let your guard down even for an instant. This incident was unfortunate, but hopefully with additional practice it can be avoided in the future.” Harry nodded, acceptingly. He motioned for them to sit back down, which they all did reluctantly. “I would also like you and Miss Weasley to work together,” Dumbledore continued calmly, “in secret of course, to strengthen your bond. I was mistaken in thinking that keeping you apart would be a prudent thing. Your bond is showing itself to be a very important factor in helping you to resist Voldemort’s attempts to hurt you. I think time alone together is needed in this case.” Harry was surprised by this request. “But how are we to do that, Sir?” “I have arranged for a special room to be set up,” Dumbledore explained. “You will be safe there from prying eyes, and have time alone to work on your… relationship.” He eyes were practically twinkling, making Harry flush. Did he really mean what is sounded like? “Headmaster,” Snape said in his usual disapproving voice, “do you think this is wise? After all, you are giving two teenagers license to… be alone together. It is very out of the ordinary in a school such as Hogwarts, with its history of respectability.” Stephen spoke up. “You know as well as I, Snape, that the Soul Bond is the deepest, most binding type of magic. They might as well be married.” Harry startled at that; he hadn’t realised that it was that big of a deal. Somehow, the Life Bond he thought he had with Ginny seemed more serious, mostly because he could be responsible for Ginny dying. He almost missed Snape’s retort. “But they’re not married, are they? It would be inappropriate for them to engage in… adult activities when under the protection of the school.” “I think,” Dumbledore interrupted, “that Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley are more mature than that. My intention is to give them a place to get to know each other better in order to control the bond and use it to our advantage. I am sure that they will not abuse the privilege.” All eyes turned to Harry, who was still trying to work out what they were talking about. When it became apparent that it required a response, he hastily murmured his agreement with what the Headmaster had said which seemed to satisfy Dumbledore but not Snape. The Potions Master regarded him with a suspicious, calculating look that clearly communicated that he thought Harry was taking advantage of his situation. Stephen still seemed very amused. Harry, himself, didn’t know if he could keep that promise — not with the prospect of being alone with Ginny on a regular basis. Dumbledore’s next words shattered his hopes, however. “I have arranged for several portraits to be placed the room,” he announced, “just in case they get… carried away and need reminding that they are still students and not adults, as of yet.” Harry turned beat red. He could not possibly have misinterpreted Dumbledore’s meaning, and he had never felt so embarrassed. Stephen laughed. “Shot that one down, didn’t he Quetzal?” he said, clapping a stunned Harry on the back. “It’s not funny,” Harry muttered darkly, shrugging the arm off his shoulder. “Sure it is,” Stephen laughed. “We were all young once. Even Snape, here, probably had his occasional fantasies in his day.” “You are a true Gryffindor,” Snape said sarcastically. “Incorrigibly immature, just like James Potter and his entourage.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Stephen said coolly. “You would,” Snape muttered. “Enough!” Dumbledore said firmly, ending the argument. They had returned to their lunch now and were busy digging into the waiting food, hunger outweighing the conversation at hand. Despite his embarrassment, Harry found his appetite strong. The food was delicious… much better than normal fare in the Great Hall, not that it was ever bad. He tucked in enthusiastically, once he actually began eating. “One other thing, Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said. “I was notified about the hearing regarding Sirius’ will. You and Remus are to meet with your attorney prior to the hearing on the 12th of October.” “My attorney?” Harry repeated, confused. “Do I have even one? And why Remus, too?” “Well, Remus’ name is on the summons papers,” Dumbledore answered. “And yes, my boy, you certainly do have an attorney… an excellent one, at that. His family has handled the Potter affairs for generations. His name is Mr. Howe… Seymour Howe, I believe. He was also Sirius’ attorney.” “Of Dewy, Cheatum, and Howe law firm?” Stephen asked. “They have an excellent reputation, I’ve heard.” Dumbledore sighed. “Except for that spot of trouble the late Mr. Cheatum found himself in a few years back.” “Trouble?” Harry asked curiously. “Unfortunately,” Dumbledore explained, “Mr. Cheatum was caught embezzling money from his wealthier clients. It was a huge scandal in its day, but quite entertaining.” “Why was it entertaining?” Harry asked. Dumbledore looked surprised but pleased that Harry was even interested. “Why, his main clients were a cat and a horse, you see.” They discussed the finer points of the case for the remainder of the meal, and even Snape and Stephen put in their recollections of what they remembered of the scandal. To Harry, it was the closest thing he’d ever had to holding a real conversation with his sullen, bad-tempered Potions Master and it was quite disconcerting. When the meal was over Snape hurried off to prepare for his next class. He and Stephen were also preparing to depart when Dumbledore asked to speak to Stephen alone for a moment. “I have to get to my next class,” Harry said, picking up his heavy book bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Go on, Harry,” Stephen said stiffly. “I’ll catch up with you later.” Harry could tell that Stephen wished he could make a quick getaway, too. Not for the first time, he wondered what he was holding against Dumbledore. He waved goodbye and was just about to descend the steps when the strap on his bag gave way, scattering his belongings on the ground. Sighing, he crawled around on the floor picking them up when he heard something that stopped him cold. “Don’t ask me to do that, Albus,” Stephen’s anguished voice carried out into the entranceway through the crack of the door. “I can’t.” “You need to face this, Stephen,” Dumbledore said to him. “I understand how you feel-” “How could you possibly!” Stephen roared angrily. “They were my life, and now they are gone forever, no thanks to you.” There was a pregnant pause during which Harry thought about leaving but just as he turned he heard Stephen’s choked voice spit out, “Why didn’t you warn them, Albus? Why did you let it happen? You had to have known he was coming for them… she was your grand-daughter, after all.” ‘Grand-daughter?’Harry startled in surprise. Stephen’s wife had been Professor Dumbledore’s grand-daughter? Somehow he had never pictured the Headmaster with a family of his own, but certainly he had lived a very full life. Of course he had a family… or used to, at least. “Not many knew Mariah was my great-grandchild, Stephen,” Dumbledore said, sounding extremely old to Harry’s ears. “I did not feel she was in any more danger than any other person in the Wizarding World at the time… and, if you recall, our efforts were focused elsewhere. We were trying to find a way to get you back from Voldemort’s clutches.” Stephen sounded broken. “I wasn’t there for them,” he said so quietly Harry had to use his enhanced hearing to hear. “If I had only known about the Prophecy… that there was a chance he might come for them, I might have-” “Might have done what, Stephen?” Dumbledore said reasonably. “You were a prisoner of war. From what you’ve told me, their intention in keeping you alive was to get information. If you had known, they could have forced the information out of you and then killed you, in addition to your wife and son. Besides, where did knowing the contents of the Prophecy get Lily and James? They were under the Fidelius, but they still lost their lives.” His voice grew kinder and more compassionate. “The attack on Mariah and Adam was unexpected. It was a very unlucky thing for your son to be born at the end of July, but that may not have been the entire reason they were targeted. You and I had enemies long before there was ever a Prophecy, Stephen. Other than that one detail, Adam did not fit. None of us could have known Voldemort would turn his attention there.” Harry sucked in his breath. He could barely comprehend that Stephen’s son was also targeted by Voldemort as the Chosen One… only it hadn’t been Adam, it was him. He suddenly felt very sorry for Stephen. The damned Prophecy had ruined more than one family, apparently. “Please, Stephen,” Dumbledore implored. “Consider granting an old man’s request. We both need closure on this.” “Seeing their graves would make it too real,” Stephen muttered. “I can’t.” “It’s been sixteen years, son,” Dumbledore told him. “It’s time to move on. Stephen hesitated. “I’ll think about it,” he said finally. Harry quickly finished picking up his papers and descended the stairs in a daze, his mind full of everything he had learned. |
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