|
Shadow of the Serpent | ||||||
|
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: 152114; Chapter Total: 6460 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: I'm sorry I missed my deadline, but I think the wait improved the chapter. If I had submitted it on time half of the fluffy stuff at the end would have been omitted. Because I didn't hear back from my beta (Who was even more busy then me this week, and I thought I was busy!) I had time to take a second look at the chapter and add the scene back in the Hideout, which really brings everything together, I think. That is why I'm not going to do a deadline for the rest of the chapters. If I can update once a week, I will. But no more rushing. With only five chapters left, you'll get a good chapter when I think it's ready and not because I feel rushed to get one out. Hopefully you all prefer quality to quantity. I'm finding that with my kids home for the summer and under foot all day long, it is twice as hard to find time to write. So... next chapter will be coming up soon, but no promises when. I'll get it out as fast as I can, but without compromising the story. Too many things have to come together now and I don't want to blow it all in the end. Thanks to Arnel, Chreechree, and Melindaleo for helping me with edits and opinions. Thoughtful reviews are appreciated but not required. Thanks for reading! |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
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. “Horcruxes and Hiding Places” Harry stopped in front of the stone gargoyle outside the headmaster’s office and looked up, wary about this meeting. He had been back for over a week now and slowly his voice had returned, although he still wasn’t back to normal. Random memories from the past months would sometimes catch him off guard, and he’d find himself mute for awhile until he had time to process the information. He supposed it was his mind’s way of compensating for the terrible things he had witnessed — things his body had participated in. It suddenly struck him that this was where Ginny had stood that day, crying to be let in. He shivered at the memory of hearing her run through every sweet imaginable, only to be denied entry. Taking a deep breath, he stated clearly, “Bertie Bott’s,” and watched as the stone gargoyle moved aside. Stepping up to the escalator-like stairs, he rode to the top in a fluid upward spiral, closing his mind to the memories. The familiar mumblings of the portraits inside the office filled his ears even before he saw them. Politely he knocked, hovering just inside the doorway. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk reading some parchments and consulting some books, but he looked up expectantly at the noise. “Ahh… Harry,” he said warmly. “Do come in. Have a seat. Would you care for a lemon drop?” “No, thank you,” Harry answered quietly, sitting in a chair opposite the desk. He waited patiently for the old wizard to get to the point. One thing he had learned in his time away was patience. With nothing to occupy him during that time of solitude except for the things going on outside his control, he had found a way to survive by biding his time, striking at exactly the right moment to do what he could to minimize the damage his body was causing. It was a habit he found he had retained upon his return. Instead of the impulsiveness that had plagued him before, he now thought about each move he made and executed it with decisive action. He was a bit worried that his ability to think on his feet would be affected — it had always been his strength — but yesterday he and Stephen had resumed their lessons, and Harry had beaten him in everything from sword fighting to duelling in record time. Whatever Voldemort had done to him, his magical power was stronger than it had ever been before he left, and his physical strength had improved as well. Harry was throwing much stronger curses and hexes than ever before, and his reflexes were ‘astounding’, according to Stephen. “Harry,” Dumbledore said, pushing aside his papers, “I won’t ‘beat around the bush’, as the Muggles would say. I have something important to discuss with you, and I feel it is past time for you to know.” “Know what, Professor?” Harry asked, leaning forward in his chair slightly. “The secret I’ve been keeping,” Dumbledore answered with a heavy sigh. “Last year when I promised to tell you everything, I regret to say that I held a few things back.” Harry felt the beginnings of anger stirring in his chest, but he controlled them because he knew that losing his temper might be a pathway for Voldemort to get into his mind, and he would not allow that to happen again. He had definitely learned his lesson there. Any anger he felt would always be controlled anger — any fear, controlled fear. “What kind of things, Professor?” he asked in a serious, mature voice that certainly did not betray his true feelings. “I have learned the reason Voldemort cannot be killed — at least not yet,” Dumbledore answered, looking Harry in the eye. “I’ve always had my suspicions, but it hadn’t been confirmed until earlier this year when I stumbled across something I’d been searching a long time for — something that has allowed Tom to come closer to immortality than any other wizard alive. Since then I have been on a quest.” “I don’t understand, sir,” Harry said. “I’ve found Tom’s Horcruxes — most of them anyway.” “Horcruxes?” Harry repeated in a confuse voice, trying out the unfamiliar word on his tongue. “What’s that?” “A Horcrux,” Dumbledore answered gravely, “is a most dangerous and Dark type of magic. It is strictly forbidden to create a Horcrux because it requires murder in order to be accomplished. The spell rips the soul in two and stores part of it in an object… or in some cases a living thing.” Harry stared at the headmaster with wide eyes. “Voldemort did that?” “Yes, Harry,” Dumbledore answered. “I now have proof that he did indeed do that. But it gets worse.” “Worse?” Harry said dumbly. “I have evidence to believe that Tom created several Horcruxes — six to be exact, an unheard of number. You see, by splitting the soul into seven parts, including the bit that still resides inside himself, he would have practically insured his own immortality.” “Sir,” Harry said carefully, “does this mean that if we find these Horcruxes and destroy them, then Voldemort will be mortal again… and he can be killed?” Harry didn’t miss the twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes. “Yes Harry, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Harry’s mind was reeling. “The diary,” he said suddenly. “The diary that was used to open the Chamber of Secrets… That was a Horcrux, wasn’t it?” “Yes Harry,” Dumbledore said proudly. “It was.” “But I destroyed it with the Basilisk fang, so that means only five are left.” Dumbledore opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out several charred objects from his desk. “Actually,” he said, “I have a few others to add to the collection.” He pulled out a battered locket, a blackened ring, and a half-destroyed trophy. “These first two were the only known artefacts of Salazar Slytherin, passed down through his descendents to Tom Riddle’s mother. The cup belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, another Hogwarts founder.” Harry did the maths in his head. “That leaves two, if your information is correct and Voldemort did make seven of these Horcruxes.” “That is why I have called you here,” Dumbledore said evenly. “I need your help.” “How can I help?” “I believe one of the Horcruxes is Voldemort’s snake, Nagini.” Dumbledore fixed his eyes on Harry in a hard stare, seeming to be trying to convey something unspoken in the gaze. “Nagini?” Harry said, surprised. “Why do you suspect Nagini?” “I have been suspicious of her ever since last year when you had your dream and the culminating events that led to Arthur Weasley being taken to St. Mungo’s,” Dumbledore said evenly. “The way you described the snake, it seems Voldemort has an unusual amount of control over her.” Harry thought back over what he had seen while he was in the Shadow. It wasn’t easy because he had deliberately put all those memories away in a cupboard inside his mind. It was easier to deal with the memories one at a time. So, from time to time when he was alone, he would take out a memory and relive it. This was something Stephen had suggested because it had helped him deal with his own trauma after his capture, coupled with the loss of his family. He had told Harry that the memories had threatened to overwhelm him and he had used his Occlumency to help him cope, otherwise he might have gone mad. Harry had seen some of the same tendencies in himself and knew that Stephen was right. At first, all he wanted was to just keep the last eight months locked away and repress all the bad memories, but Stephen had insisted that it would be much better to face his past rather than forget about it altogether. Repressed memories could come back to haunt a person at the most inconvenient times he said. Harry could find himself in the middle of a duel and suddenly become frozen in fear over something in his past. According to Stephen, he could easily end up dead because of it. “I don’t understand, Sir,” Harry said. “Why would Voldemort entrust part of his soul to a living thing? That doesn’t make sense. What if it died? Snakes don’t live forever, do they?” Dumbledore chuckled. “No, Harry. They certainly do not. But if a charm were placed on the snake to tie her life force to Voldemort’s, and if Voldemort cannot die…” “…then Nagini can’t die until he does,” Harry finished. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. “I think she’s just as vulnerable as any of the rest of us, but certainly her natural life would be extended, and she would not age like a normal snake.” “So, she can be killed, but not die a natural death,” Harry stated. “Precisely,” Dumbledore said, sounding extremely pleased that Harry had picked up on that distinction. “So,” Harry said, his mind whirling, “all we have to do is find Nagini, do away with her, and then we only have one more Horcrux left. Do you have any idea what the last one might be?” “I must confess, Harry… I do.” Dumbledore’s eyes had suddenly taken on a sad expression, and his shoulders seemed to droop a bit, like he was carrying the weight of a great burden. “I have suspected for quite some time now, and the closer we have become the more certain I am that I was right.” The way he was looking at him, so sad and so regretful made something click in Harry’s mind. He reached up and ran a hand over his scar, comprehension dawning. “It’s me, isn’t it?” he said. “It’s my scar.” Dumbledore nodded sadly. “But why?” Harry asked Dumbledore. “Why would he put a piece of himself in me? Why do that? It doesn’t make sense.” “I don’t think he intended to,” Dumbledore answered. “I think he intended to use your murder to make his final Horcrux that night, but your mother’s sacrifice made everything go wrong. The Killing Curse backfired, and you ended up with the bit of soul that was supposed to be encased in something else — something that most likely once belonged to Godric Gryffindor. The place your parents were staying in, Godric’s Hollow… it was once the home of your ancestor-“ “Gryffindor!” Harry exclaimed knowing it to be true. “You are a direct descendant of Gryffindor through your father’s line, Harry. Your parents went there to hide because the ancient magic would afford them better protection as a direct descendant, but alas… sadly, Voldemort found a way around that protection through Peter.” “I’m related to Godric Gryffindor,” Harry mused aloud, choosing to not think about the man he had watched die by his own hand. “…That’s why you gave me the sword.” Dumbledore nodded. “I thought it rightly belonged to you. You did pull it out of the hat, after all. It is connected to you, and I think it may come in handy one day. The sword has a way of knowing when it is needed, as you experienced in the Chamber of Secrets.” Harry sat back in his chair feeling slightly nauseated. “I’m carrying around a piece of Voldemort’s soul in my head,” he said in a dazed voice. “You tried to tell me once, didn’t you… back in my second year. It was after I saved Ginny from the diary and killed the basilisk. You said then that Voldemort had put a bit of himself in me. It’s why I can speak Parseltongue and why I can feel his emotions or see through his eyes sometimes.” He tapped his scar. “Our link is through this. Does that mean that this scar is the Horcrux?” Dumbledore nodded. “I believe that the Horcrux is encased in your scar. It is the reason I did not try and remove it when I left you at your aunt’s house. I believed that it would be dangerous — even deadly, to try.” He swept his arm over the ruined objects on his desk. “Look what happened to these when I cast the spell to destroy the Horcruxes encased inside them.” Harry surveyed the battered, charred, and broken objects with trepidation. “So, if you can’t get rid of it and you can’t destroy it… then, where does that leave me? Am I stuck with this part of him forever?” “Harry…” Dumbledore said gravely, his old eyes sad. “So long as even one bit of Voldemort remains, he will never be truly gone. This is why he did not die, even though the Killing Curse should have finished him.” He gave Harry a long-suffering look full of pain and regret. “You do understand what I’m telling you, don’t you?” Every bit of Harry was screaming denial, but in his heart he knew what Dumbledore was getting at. It was what the prophecy had foretold. He had the power to destroy the Dark Lord, and neither could live while the other survived. If Harry lived on after Voldemort with the scar intact, then part of Voldemort also lived through him. In order to make sure Voldemort never returned, he would have to find a way to destroy both the Horcrux encased in his own body and Voldemort — but only after he had first killed Nagini, if she was indeed a Horcrux also. His heart plummeted. “Why are you telling me this now?” he asked Dumbledore angrily. He felt the faintest stirring of the snake inside him, but he quickly controlled his emotions even though all he really wanted was to let loose and start breaking things like he had the day Sirius had died. All the time he had wasted… all the things he had wanted to do. Now he would never get the chance. “I felt it was time you knew,” Dumbledore said calmly. “Your disappearance was unexpected. Events are accelerating at a rapid pace — much faster than anyone had anticipated. According to my calculations, time is running short. The centaurs of the forest have read the signs in the heavens, and they believe that the final battle is approaching. One day soon you may be faced with a terrible decision, and I wanted you to be prepared. I may not be here for long…” Harry jerked his head up sharply. “Where else would you be?” Dumbledore merely shrugged. “I am an old man, Harry. I have lived a very long and very full life. Men of my age know that their days are numbered, and I have begun to prepare myself for my next great adventure.” “But you can’t just… die.” “I assure you that I have no intentions of leaving you any time soon. But when it does happen — and I assure you that it will — I am prepared. I can now leave this world with a clean conscious, knowing that I have given you all the tools you need to see this through.” He got up and walked around the desk, placing a withered hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I have many regrets, Harry,” he said sadly. “But the thing I regret the most is having to lay this burden on your shoulders. I have done everything I can to protect you and guide you, but now it is up to you.” Harry wandered around the darkened halls of Hogwarts under his invisibility cloak in a fog, his mind full of everything Dumbledore had said to him. Part of him was still in shock over what he had learned, but another small part had already resigned himself to his fate. He had always known that it would come down to either him or Voldemort, but now he knew that he had been wrong… even if he managed to kill Voldemort’s body, he would never be able to truly live because living would ensure Voldemort’s survival. As long as the Horcrux embedded in his forehead survived, so would Voldemort. It was a quandary he didn’t have the energy to solve at the moment. Right now all he wanted was to find Ginny and forget everything he had heard in the headmaster’s office. Ginny was supposed to be taking her Astronomy OWL tonight, so he moved towards the tower they had used last year to take the practical part of the exam. He wished he could talk to Macoa, but the snake seemed to have disappeared. No one had seen her since about the same time Harry had been ambushed in Surrey. This troubled Harry for some reason other than the obvious one of not knowing what had become of her. Every time his mind trailed to his reptile friend, he kept thinking he had forgotten something… something important. “Let me go, Malfoy, or I swear-” Harry froze. “Shut it Weasley, or I’ll show you exactly what the Dark Lord’s followers think of filthy blood traitors like you,” Malfoy’s cold voice sneered from up ahead. “All I want is information on Potter. Tell me what I want to know, and we can end this meeting pleasantly. …Refuse and you’ll find out exactly who you’re dealing with.” “I know who I’m dealing with, you little ferret,” Ginny snarled. “I don’t think you have a clue who you’re dealing with!” Harry rushed down the hall and rounded the corner, his blood boiling. This was pure rage, unlike anything he had ever known before. It did not give him time to analyze why the feeling of the snake stirring did not come, or why he felt so blinded by hate that he could kill Malfoy on the spot with his bare hands. The hate only intensified when he saw the blond Slytherin’s wand trained on Ginny’s neck and her wand lying uselessly on the floor. He drew his own wand, but the angle was all wrong — if he cursed Malfoy from here he could hit Ginny — so he did the next best thing. He slammed his invisible body into Malfoy’s with all the force he could muster. With a satisfying crunch Malfoy went flying. Harry whipped the invisibility cloak off and rounded on Malfoy, who had slammed against the wall and was looking a bit dazed. Harry’s wand was at Malfoy’s throat in an instant, and the fury on his face let the blond boy know that he was not playing around. “P-Potter!” Malfoy stuttered. “That’s right, Draco,” Harry said with deadly calm. “You were looking for information, and now you’re going to get it — straight from the source. The question is… will you live to tell anyone?” He smiled in satisfaction as Draco’s eyes widened and he whimpered in terror. “Who sent you?” Harry asked. “N-No one.” “Come now, Draco… don’t take me for a fool,” Harry said impatiently. “I know you’ve been working with the Death Eaters for months now. I know you even fancy yourself one. But did you know that inside Voldemort’s inner circle you’re considered somewhat of a joke? You’re mission is nothing more than a long shot, and you, Malfoy, are expendable. You were given a fool’s errand, and you’re too stupid to realise it.” “You’re wrong,” Draco said, but he didn’t seem so sure of himself. “Am I?” Harry mused, not backing down an inch, his wand never wavering. “I don’t think so. Only a fool would corner a Weasley — especially this Weasley. You’re lucky I came by when I did or you’d most likely be in hospital now having Madame Pomfrey extract bat bogeys from your nostrils.” Draco paled, obviously having remembered being hit by the curse. Harry felt a small hand touch his arm. “Come on, Harry,” Ginny said gently. “Let’s get out of here.” “No,” Harry said firmly, the anger still burning in his eyes. “He wanted information, and now he’s going to get it. Tell your Dark Lord that I know all about his plans to kill Dumbledore, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let that happen. If he wants the job done so badly, he should come himself and not send schoolboys to do his dirty work for him. But he should be forewarned… Whenever he chooses to come, I’ll be waiting. I’m done being his pawn. If he wants a fight, then that’s what he’ll get. You tell him that Harry Potter is no longer his plaything. He’d better watch out because next time it’ll be me that has the advantage.” “I can’t tell him that!” Malfoy exclaimed. “He’ll kill me on the spot.” “That’s your problem,” Harry said unflinchingly. “You wanted information, and now you have it.” “Too bad the bloody snake didn’t finish you off,” Draco spat out angrily. Harry stilled, sensing that Draco knew something that he didn’t. “What are you talking about?” “Your little snake friend… not seen her lately, have you Potter?” “What have you done to her?” Harry growled, shoving him against the wall again extra hard. “I’ve done nothing,” Draco sneered. “I didn’t have to. She’s the one who’s been calling the shots. …Or didn’t you know?” Harry recoiled, stunned. It wasn’t possible… Macoa was his friend. She’d helped him — she’d listened to him and given him advice when he’d needed it most. Draco smirked. “No… it looks like you didn’t know. Newsflash, Potter. Your little friend Macoa has been working for the Dark Lord all this time, and you never even suspected. Maybe you don’t know so much after all. Here’s a life lesson for you… never trust a snake, especially the magical ones. If you were Slytherin instead of a stupid Gryffindor, you would know that.” He grabbed Malfoy by the collar and shoved him towards the Dungeon where the Slytherins lived. “Get out of here before I curse you so badly that you’ll wish you looked as good as Mad-Eye Moody,” he ground out angrily. Malfoy straightened his robes and sauntered down the corridor like he had just won the lottery, making Harry regret that he was too noble to hex him in the back. “Harry,” Ginny said shakily when he was gone, “please tell me he was lying. Macoa isn’t really one of them, is she?” Harry stared vacantly at the wall, trying to make sense of it. “What happened to the egg?” he asked quietly. Ginny blinked. “What egg?” “Macoa’s egg… the one I gave to you before I got taken.” “You didn’t give me an egg,” Ginny said, confused. “Yes, Ginny, I did. Macoa gave it to me to give to you that night… the night we spent by the fire. Don’t you remember?” Ginny’s eyes were wide, and her face paled as she shook her head. “I don’t remember anything except what happened between you and me, and I certainly don’t remember accepting an egg. Why would I do that? I hate snakes!” Harry turned to her, his eyes still blazing and his jaw set. “If they did something to hurt you, I don’t know that I’d be able to control myself.” “Don’t say that.” His breathing quickened as the memories claimed him. “You don’t know what it was like, Ginny, when I thought you were dead…” he said in a far off voice. “I know you suffered too, but I… I watched you die, for Merlin’s sake! I still don’t know how he tricked me into thinking that you were gone. They did something to our link, and I couldn’t feel you anymore. It was like part of me was missing. I was confused, and then you were there, and you looked so real.” He paused, lost in thought. “That memory will haunt me for the rest of my life.” “But I’m here,” Ginny said reassuringly. “I didn’t die. That wasn’t me.” He looked down the hall with cold green eyes. “I have to get to the bottom of this. If Macoa was working for the Dark side, it’s hard to tell the damage she caused. I-I trusted her. I confided in her, and I-I allowed myself to be hypnotized by her. She helped me sleep at night…” He cursed loudly. “Why didn’t I see it!” He was gripping his wand so tightly, sparks flew out of it. “She wasn’t helping me sleep at all. She was doing something to me…” Ginny swallowed hard, visibly shaken, but she didn’t try to correct him. They both sensed that he was right. “What are you going to do?” she asked. He relaxed his shoulders, pocketed his wand, and picked up his discarded invisibility cloak from the ground angrily. “I’ll think about that later.” He looked her over with concern. “Are you all right? Malfoy didn’t hurt you, did he?” “I’m fine,” she answered, anxiety still showing on her face. Harry glanced down the empty hallway where Malfoy had scuttled off. “If he’d have hurt you, I think I would have killed him.” When he turned back to Ginny, the anxiety was gone, and she was staring at him thoughtfully. “I think I understand how you feel,” she told him when their eyes met. “I think… I think I’d do whatever I had to do to protect you as well. But I don’t want to be responsible for you getting yourself thrown in Azkaban, Harry. There are some battles you can’t protect me from — some enemies I have to fight myself. You can’t always be my hero and swoop in to save me. Sometimes you have to let me handle things my own way. Do you understand?” He nodded reluctantly. “I know you could have handled that git all on your own, but when I saw him threatening you I lost my temper.” Ginny’s face twisted in a grin. “Next time, wait half a second before you tackle him. I was just about to show him the Muggle way to get rid of stalkers and bullies.” She shrugged. “It always worked on my brothers in a pinch.” Harry’s face reddened, but he laughed. “I’ll remember that. Remind me not to underestimate how low you’ll go to keep your advantage.” “Too right you are, Potter,” she said cheekily. “Now, didn’t you promise me a nice relaxing evening by the fire after my astronomy practical?” She looped her arm in his and pulled him in the opposite direction from where Malfoy had gone. “How was your meeting with Dumbledore?” Harry shrugged. “I found some things out, but I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind. I’ll tell you everything eventually, but right now I need to process it all. I’m not sure how I feel about it yet, and now Malfoy’s given me another thing to worry about.” Ginny nodded understandingly. “When you’re ready.” Harry felt a sudden, overwhelming rush of desire for her that literally took his breath away. Her eyes showed him that she felt it too, and suddenly he couldn’t stand it anymore. Looking around, he spotted the perfect hiding place, a tapestry that covered a small alcove. He had discovered it once on a trip to the kitchens for a late-night snack when he had almost been caught by Filch. Hastily, he grabbed her hand and pulled behind it. As one, they melted into each other. It was dark behind the heavy tapestry, but they didn’t mind because suddenly it wasn’t about seeing — it was about feeling and touching and kissing, their hands and tongues intertwining passionately as they abandoned all caution and lost themselves in the moment. After what felt like hours of groping and serious snogging they pulled away from each other, totally out of breath. Harry’s heart was beating so loudly he thought for sure it would attract Mrs. Norris’s keen ears, should she happen to come by. “Stay with me tonight,” he whispered. “What-what are you saying?” Ginny asked, and Harry felt her conflicting emotions. “I just want to be near you,” he clarified. “We won’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing. I promise. I just want you near me… to know that when I wake up you’ll still be there.” “Oh, Harry,” she sniffed sounding more like Hermione than he had ever heard her. “Of course I’ll stay with you. I’m just not sure I’m ready for that, you know?” Harry kissed her again more tenderly this time, and he felt some of her resolve weaken. “I’m content to wait as long as I need in order for that to happen. I’m not some ponce who only wants one thing from you, Ginny. When you’re ready for that to happen, I’ll know because I’ll feel it, too. That night by the fire, before I went away… that was magical. It gave me something to hang onto all those months when I thought you were dead. I just want to feel that again.” He swallowed a lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “The Darkness… it’s coming. I can feel it coming. I can’t make any promises to you, Ginny, but I do know one thing… I love you more than life itself and I would willingly sacrifice my own life to keep you safe.” Ginny clung to him tightly. “Stop talking like that, Harry. No one is sacrificing anything — we’re going to find a way to stop him, and then we’ll have the rest of our lives to spend together.” He wrapped his arms around her protectively, trying to block out Dumbledore’s words swimming in his head. “…So long as even one bit of Voldemort remains, he will never be truly gone… You do understand what I’m telling you, don’t you? …the Horcrux is encased in your scar… One day soon you may be faced with a terrible decision, and I wanted you to be prepared. ” Harry shivered and clutched Ginny tighter, grateful that she could not see his face in the dark, but forgetting for a second that she could feel his every emotion. “Are you all right?” she asked him, concerned. “Just come back with me to The Hideout,” he answered, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “Stay with me and make me forget. For one night, all I want is to think of nothing but us — not Voldemort, not Macoa, and certainly not Malfoy. Will you… will you do that for me?” He felt Ginny’s hand slide into his and gently tug his arm towards the tapestry doorway, and he obediently followed her lead back out into the torch lit corridor. He had a terrible feeling that Fate was about to intervene again, and he was not sure he was ready. Stuffing his worries into that cupboard he had created inside his mind, he stubbornly determined that he would worry about that tomorrow. Tonight all he wanted was to feel Ginny in his arms, and the sooner they got back to his room, the sooner that would happen. She looked up at him intently, seeming to read his mind. “No matter what happens, I’ll never let you face it alone.” He smiled down at her, and suddenly his heart was full of sunshine again. “I know.” “Good, then,” she said, smiling. “Now that we have that settled, how about we hurry? I’m rather keen to pick up where we left off.” The room was quiet when they got back. Someone had stoked the fire, and it crackled invitingly, its orange flames dancing merrily and casting a warm glow on the room. The Marauders portrait had been covered, but faint music could be heard coming from behind the heavy drape. All the other portraits in the room were sleeping. Harry had learned that the older paintings were quite grumpy when they didn’t get their sleep, and the Marauders’ parties kept them awake unless the younger ones were covered at night. Quietly they tiptoed across the room and into Harry’s adjoining bedroom where he immediately cast silencing and locking spells on the room and door. He was glad to see that the double fireplace was casting its magic in here as well. Ginny placed a blanket on the floor and Harry transfigured it into a soft fur-like rug that he had once seen in a magazine his aunt had thrown in the bin. Harry had never had books as a child, so he would often nick the old magazines and flip through them to help pass the time when his uncle would lock him in the cupboard as punishment for some thing or another. He remembered how cosy this particular cottage had looked with the fireplace and the rug and wanted to feel that same sense of security tonight. Ginny lit a few candles and suddenly the room was dancing with warm flames and shadows that were not at all scary. The dark was still comforting to Harry. He had been exposed to the light since returning, and it didn’t bother him as much as it used to, but he always felt better when night came. The darkness provided a perfect hiding place for everything that troubled him. When he was alone at night, he could almost put a name to his fears. Stephen had always told him that invoking the true name of something gave you power over it. The darkness put him in touch with those things that frightened him, and he had been working to identify them so that one day when he faced the unseen terrors he would have power over them. In his mind, Harry felt he had been powerless far too long. When the true Darkness found him, he didn’t want to be bogged down by fear — especially the fear that came from his own imagination. Ginny took the pillows off the bed and brought them to the fireside then pulled something out of her school bag that she had discarded by the door. “I thought we might be hungry later, so I nicked these at dinner,” she said, holding up a capped jug of pumpkin juice, a few sweet rolls, and some biscuits. “Want some?” Harry nodded eagerly and sat down as she divvied up the food. He conjured two glasses out of thin air and handed her one. “How do you do that?” she asked, looking at him funnily. Harry paused, uncertain. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “I just think about what I want, and suddenly I know what I need to do to get it. It’s like when I learned to shape-shift. I just get in touch with the magic, focus my mind on what I want to happen, and then give the magic permission to take that form. Since I’ve been back I don’t seem to have to think about how to do magic as much… it’s just there, you know?” “It’s not supposed to work that way,” she commented, raising an eyebrow. Harry stared at his feet sheepishly as he took a bite of sweet roll. “I know,” he admitted. “Ever since I got back, I feel… different. Like some kind of magical rope on me has been let loose. I haven’t felt like this since the island.” They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. “Do you think that maybe Macoa had something to do with that?” Ginny asked him finally. “I want to believe that Malfoy was lying, but… I just don’t know. Sometimes at night when I’d have trouble sleeping she’d seem to put some kind of spell on me. I thought at the time that she was helping me. I’d wake up in the morning and feel like I’d learned things while I’d been sleeping, but it never felt unsafe or sinister.” “Harry!” Ginny cried. “Why didn’t you say anything? You should have told someone — Professor Dumbledore, Professor Hunter… even me. Merlin knows what she was doing to you!” “I know, Ginny. Believe me, I’ve thought of that already. That’s why I need to find her. I need to know for myself what she was doing all that time.” They finished off their food and juice, then lay back on the pillows and stared at the fire, their fingers intertwined. Both made a silent agreement to drop the subject for now. “Ginny, can I ask you something?” “Of course,” she answered automatically. “What did Tom say to you the night I came back?” He felt her tense up, but that wasn’t unexpected. He knew she wouldn’t want to talk about it, but something was telling him it was important. “He said that there was something about me that made me his,” she said softly. “He knew I had written in his diary.” Harry absorbed this information with trepidation. Having learned tonight that the diary had once contained part of Voldemort’s soul had gotten him thinking about Ginny and her ability to speak Parseltongue. Voldemort had been using the diary to pour his soul into Ginny and come back to life. Hearing the explanation of the Horcruxes had made him fearful not only for himself, but Ginny as well. There was a good possibility that Ginny still retained part of Voldemort’s soul — that it was lying dormant inside her somewhere, hidden from her awareness. She looked at him warily. “Why does that upset you? You’re not… disappointed in me, are you?” He turned to look at her sharply. “No. How could I possibly be disappointed in you? I’m the one who made a mess of things this past year. I should have fought harder… I could have stopped him, but I didn’t. I wasn’t strong enough.” His voice had taken on a bitter edge that he wasn’t proud of. “You’re the strongest person I know,” she said confidently. “You will beat him, Harry. One of these days you’re going to give him the thrashing he deserves. I just hope I’m there to see it and help, if I can.” They became quiet again until Harry broke the silence once more. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like on the other side?” “You mean after we die?” “Yeah.” “I hope it’s really wonderful,” she said, her eyes focused on the dancing flames. “I want to believe that it’s a magical place where we can all be together forever. There’s no pain, or sickness, or hurt. Just love.” “If it’s so wonderful, then why does Voldemort fear it, do you suppose?” Ginny paused, thinking. “I suppose it’s because he doesn’t understand how love works. He’s never been loved — not really. Only feared. Love is a risk, Harry. Perhaps he loved something or somebody once and then had it taken away. You and I both know the grief that can cause. Mum says love can be the best thing about life, or the worst, depending on how you look at it. For Tom, death is only about loss — about not being in control. He can’t see the big picture, all he can see is what he’s losing and that scares him.” “Did I ever tell you that my parents and Sirius talked to me? It was through a vision this summer, on the island.” He paused, noticing that he had her full attention. “It seemed so real… I-I think that if I died, they would be waiting on the other side to welcome me.” Ginny squeezed his hand. “I think they would be. But Harry… you won’t need to see them for a very long time.” She snuggled up to him. “When this is all over we’re going to do all the things we’ve ever dreamed of. We’re going to travel the world, play Quidditch all day, lead dangerous and exciting lives by night catching baddies and solving crimes. It’s going to be perfect. When we get tired of living on the edge, we’ll settle down and have ten children, then watch them grow up and have babies of their own.” He laughed. “You’ve planned all this out?” She closed her eyes and sighed happily, her voice drooping with fatigue. “Haven’t you?” He didn’t answer right away, and by the time he did she was already fast asleep. “I think…” he hesitated. “I think it sounds like a… lovely dream.” The fire crackled as he stared at it, his mind rumbling with things left unsaid. At some point he levitated the duvet from the bed to cover them, but it was a long time before sleep finally claimed him. During that time he made many decisions. Starting tomorrow he would begin researching spells that might destroy a Horcrux without harming the thing it was encased in. There had to be something out there. He turned to look at Ginny sleeping peacefully at his side. He wanted to make all her dreams come true. That’s what love was really about… making the impossible possible, making dreams reality — not for your own benefit but for the person you loved. “I’ll find a way, Ginny,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head. “I promise.” |
| Reviews 537 |
Previous Next
|
