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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP Characters:None Genres: Tragedy Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1174 Summary: Harry gets one night that gives him a glimpse into what life could be like with the Dursley's. But events turn for the worse and both Harry and the wizarding world are left wondering what it's consquences mean for the future of the world. Hitcount: Story Total: 501536; Chapter Total: 13886 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: I don't own anything. The entire Potter Universe belongs to JK Rowling. I just write fics to take up time. No Copyright Infringement is intended. |
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Chapter 23: When the Top of the World Falls on You As Hermione continued to alternate between breathing for Harry and keeping his heart beating, she couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was taking Madam Pomfrey so long to get here. Her efforts were beginning to make her light headed and her own breathing became labored. Every time she put her lips to Harry’s and breathed out, it was like trying to blow air into an inflatable toy. The ones where, no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t seem to be any more blown up than before. But she knew that she had to keep going. Harry wasn’t getting enough oxygen to keep his own heart beating. She didn’t even want to think about what could happen if she stopped. “Hermione?” asked Ron as he kneeled down beside Ginny, “are you ok?” “Y-yeah,” she breathed as she compressed against Harry’s chest. “You look a bit peaky,” Ginny added as she still clutched to Harry’s limp hand. “I could take over for you if you need it.” Hermione looked at Ginny questioningly and then nodded, knowing Ginny was up to anything to save her boyfriend. “Bre-athe…into…his mouth,” Hermione instructed as she put her hands to his chest again. “Hold his nose shut and cover his mouth with yours. I’m going to press fifteen times on his chest and you breathe twice…two seconds each time.” Ginny nodded and waited for Hermione to finish with compressions before placing her lips on Harry’s. His normally soft lips were dry from wheezing and trying to bring in hair and they were slightly cold to her touch. She breathed deeply out as instructed, watching Harry’s chest rise a bit, but the air just didn’t want to seem to go in. “Hermione?” Ginny questioned after the two breaths, “I don’t think its working.” Ginny’s voice was panicky and trembling. “Keep going,” Hermione urged. The girls alternated a few more times, when thankful cries and commotion brought them back to reality. They had been focusing solely on working on Harry that everyone standing around had faded from their consciousness. “Over here Poppy,” shouted Mr. Weasley’s strained voice to an area near the house. The crowd around them parted and a very flustered looking Madam Pomfrey came running between them with a large bag in her hand. Both Hermione and Ginny started to move aside to let the matron work, but her shrill voice interrupted their movement. “Keep going you two…we need to keep the air circulating to his lungs,” Madam Pomfrey urged them as she kneeled beside the unconscious teen, taking her wand out from a pocket of her apron. Hermione and Ginny quickly adhered to the matron’s orders, resuming CPR on the still ashen and still Harry. Madam Pomfrey ran her wand over Harry’s chest and side, concentrating hard on the different colored and magnitudes of light emitting from her wand tip. After the tip had gone dim and she pulled it away, she frowned and pursed her lips. “He’s broken a few ribs that have punctured his lung,” she informed the group at large as she reached into her bag, pulling out a long hollow tube and placing it next to her. “Mostly…he re-aggravated some the same injuries from the accident.” “He’s going to be ok, right?” asked Remus from behind the two girls, who were still working diligently. “It’s a setback…but he should be alright,” Madam Pomfrey answered quickly as she ushered Hermione out of the way, placing her wand on Harry’s t-shirt and slitting it down the middle and down the sleeves, pulling it off, so she could get a better view of his chest and injured areas. Aside from the scars that already marred his chest, there were thick purple bruises already appearing on the left side of his chest. Madam Pomfrey traced her wand over the area, causing a faint red glow to encompass the spot. She then followed the pattern of the bruising, instructing Remus to quickly help her roll Harry onto his right side so she could heal that too. The entire left side of his upper back was red and threatening looking and even his shoulder blade was scraped and bruised from the fall and tumble afterward. Madam Pomfrey continued to heal and go over the areas. When she was satisfied, she instructed Remus to lay him on his back again. Picking up the tube she had taken out of her traveling tube earlier, she tilted his head back and opened his mouth wide, placing the tube between them. “What are you doing?” Ginny cried sounding completely horrified at what was happening. “I thought you said he was going to be alright?” Ron added, looking as though he might jump on the matron and keep her from putting the tube down his best friend’s airway. “I have to re-inflate his lung,” Madam Pomfrey explained as she advanced the tube farther down Harry’s throat. “I’ve healed the internal damage…but I have to blow it up before he can regain normal function.” “He won’t have to go on that…thing...again, will he?” asked Ron, referring to the ventilator Harry had been on, as Madam Pomfrey threaded the tube in, placing her wand against his windpipe to guide the tube easily in. “No,” Madam Pomfrey answered simply as she let go of the tube, satisfied with its placement. “He’ll be fine,” she added, as if reassuring everyone, as well as herself. She tapped her wand lightly on the end of the tube, sending a silvery flow of light into it. Not half a second later, Harry’s chest rose and then fell. She silently cast the spell again and the action repeated, but this time it was followed by the sporadic wheezing rhythm of Harry’s lungs starting to function again. Despite the ragged, rasping sound coming from the tube, the tension was visibly lessoned by the sound. The breaths that everyone seemed to be holding collectively were let go as they listened to Harry’s lungs struggle, but yet maintain the steady influx of recently deprived oxygen. They all watched as some semblance of color returned to his cheeks and his lips began to lose their blue tinge as oxygen coursed through his blood again. “I’ll extabate him–take out the tube,” Madam Pomphrey clarified when she was met with several confused looks. “We should move him to the house…get him in a bed. He’ll be sore for a few days and–I know he’ll hate it–but he’ll probably need to use the mask again.” “He still sounds horrible,” Mrs. Weasley interjected as she continued to watch Harry like a hawk, waiting to swoop in and mother him at any moment. “There’s fluid in his lungs that needs to be drained…but we’ll have to wait till he wakes up,” Madam Pomfrey explained. “He’ll have to monitored for a while…but he’ll be out for a–” But just as the matron was about to say that’d he’d be out for a few hours due to the lack of oxygen, Harry began to stir, his head moving from side to side and eyes fluttering madly underneath his still closed eyelids. “Hold him still,” Madam Pomfrey urged as she kneeled down, trying to extricate the tube while Harry began to stir even more. “Poppy?” questioned Remus as he tried to pin Harry’s shoulders down without hurting him. But before Madam Pomfrey could explain that they needed to remove the tube so it didn’t damage his trachea from the movement, Harry’s green, vivid, and thoroughly horrified eyes flew open. They frantically searched the crowd of people around him, while he tried to twist away from the firm hands holding him down. His eyes continued to flit around and the wheezing gasps of breaths still emanating from the tube were combined with muffled groans and moans of pain and discomfort. “It’s alright Harry,” Ginny soothed as she tried to hold his hand in hers. “Let us help you.” But then in the next instant, Harry’s frantic eyes caught sight of the tube still protruding from his mouth and his already valiant struggle, turned into full fledged panic mode. He wrenched his hand away from Ginny’s grasp and began trying to claw at it, thrashing around violently and trying to kick or swat away the attempts to keep him still. A stray foot hit Ron hard in the gut and he flew backwards, holding his stomach as Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall, flocked to him. The quick diversion to Ron was just the opening Harry needed and he rolled onto his side away from the restraining hands, grasping the tube and coughing hard, trying to expel it on his own. “Potter no!” cried Madam Pomfrey as she tried to swoop down on him and stop him. But before she could intervene, Harry had the tube halfway out and was gasping and blowing hard to force it the rest of the way out. After a few hard coughs, the tube passed Harry’s lips and he fell back with his face into the earth, gasping and choking in any available air to soothe his raw and irritated throat and lungs. Madam Pomfrey kneeled next to him and attempted to flip him over onto his back to access if any more damage had been done. But Harry shrugged her off and snarled unintelligibly through intakes of breath. Trying to diffuse the chaotic situation, Ginny kneeled beside Harry, putting a hand on his bare shoulder. Once again, Harry tried to pull away and detach himself from the touch, but her words seemed to bring him back to some sense. “You’re fine Harry,” Ginny assured him firmly. “It’s done…it’s gone.” “N-o…m-ore?” Harry breathed out, leaning against Ginny for support as he continued to heave his chest in order to bring in air to his injured lungs. “No sweetheart,” Ginny said promised as she looked at Madam Pomfrey for confirmation. “No more.” Harry nodded in response and let out a huge cry of frustration, exasperation, and relief as he lay with his head cradled in Ginny’s lap. Ginny sat there, listening to his raspy breathing, while running her hands through his sweat-soaked hair. He was still shaking hard and tense against her. As she sat there with Harry against her, Madam Pomfrey moved hesitantly closer, motioning to Ginny that she needed to look him over. “Harry can we sit you up so Madam Pomfrey can take a better look at you?” she whispered into his ear. Harry took a moment to consider and then nodded slightly. He attempted to prop himself up with his arm, but cried out in pain and collapsed again in a wheezing heap against Ginny. “Hang on there Harry,” Hagrid gruffed softly as he moved from his position near the back of the crowd. The entire time Harry had been either unconscious or panicking, he had been trying to hold back from intervening, knowing that he might end up causing more harm than helping. “Jus’ relax.” Before anyone could object or interrupt, Hagrid gently scooped Harry up, trying not to jostle him too much. And surprisingly, Harry let out no sound that Hagrid’s movement had hurt him or caused any additional pain. Instead, Harry seemed to relax into the half-giant’s hold on him. Hagrid motioned for Remus to bring one of the squishy armchairs over and set him gingerly down into it, allowing him to fall back to the cushions and lean to the right, away from his bruised and battered left. ‘A’right?” Hagrid asked as he crouched down beside the chair. Harry nodded shakily through his pain, trying to cast a grateful smile back to him. Madam Pomfrey moved in as Hagrid stood up, patting Harry softly on the head. “Harry…I need you to put this on…it’ll help you catch your breath,” she said in an oddly motherly tone, holding up the dreaded mask. But instead of freaking out or refusing Harry nodded and allowed the matron to slip it over his nose and mouth. “You punctured your lung again Harry, that’s why we had to put that tube down your throat,” Madam Pomfrey explained, knowing how scary it must have been to wake up and be intabated again. “Your lung’s re-inflated…but I’d like to check things over again now that you’re awake. Just sit back and I’ll do the rest.” Harry leaned back as best he could against the pain that was coursing up and down his back and the left side of his chest. It wasn’t as bad or as stabbing as before, but it was still difficult to draw in a full breath or put pressure on the areas. He felt the coldness of the bell shaped instrument that Madam Pomfrey had used on him after the accident as it slid up and down his side and chest while she listened to his breathing and searched for lingering injuries that needed to be healed. Ginny was back at his side, running a reassuring hand through his hair as Madam Pomfrey worked him over again. Her attention was soothing and calming, but he couldn’t help but feel that familiar shame and embarrassment creep up on him as everyone around was watching him as he sat there shirtless, bruised, and all his disfigurements visible. Several of the Delacour clan members that had made it to the hillside to view the Quidditch match were watching the scene, not being shy in staring. Harry noticed Gabrielle eyeing him with interest, as well as Fleur’s parents. Harry also caught Hagrid surveying discreetly. If he wasn’t in a lot of pain and still having trouble breathing, he might have berate them for staring and suggest they take a picture, but he was too pre-occupied to do anything other than feel a bit unnerved. Madam Pomfrey helped him lean forward, placing the bell shaped instrument along his bruised back. He felt a bit odd as he leaned forward against the matron for support. But once again, he wasn’t too miffed. His head was still a bit fuzzy from being unconscious and he was still recovering from waking up with a breathing tube stuck in his mouth again. Once she had finished doing her work up of him, she helped him lean back in the cushioned chair so he was comfortable. Remus produced a cloak from somewhere and draped around Harry once Madam Pomfrey had moved away. Harry smiled gratefully through the mask at the gesture. “I’ve healed your fractures and breaks, as well as your lungs,” she said as she put various instruments back in her case. “But you’ll be sore and bruised for the next few days and breathing might be harder…but you’re damn lucky it wasn’t worse. What were you doing anyway?” “Qu-id-ditch,” Harry breathed as he lifted the mask. “Ahhh…how am I not surprised with you Mr. Potter?” she said with a slight smirk. “Though I have to admit that as many times you’ve graced the walls of my hospital wing…you’ve never managed anything as spectacular as this on a broom.” “Spectacularly stupid,” Ginny grumbled from Harry’s side. “Really Harry,” Mrs. Weasley interjected sounding thoroughly frustrated and flustered. “I’m happy that you got back on your broom, but did you really need to fly like that…and at that speed.” Mrs. Weasley was scrutinizing Harry with a look of concern and what may have been disappointment? Anger? He’d never had anyone upset with him like this. Almost like…a mother. “Do you have any idea how worried you had us? I know you’re a good flier, but that was a dangerous move for anyone…especially so soon after your accident. You could have been–” Mrs. Weasley continued her motherly rant, but was cut off by Mr. Weasley who was helping Ron to his feet. “Molly–leave the boy be,” Mr. Weasley pushed in an unusually stern voice. “Perhaps you should see to the Delacours?” “I’m sorry Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley responded, turning to Harry again. She seemed to be shaken out of her tirade and back to the fact that Harry had nearly died…again. “I don’t mean to be so hard…but you gave me quite a scare,” she added, taking his hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. “I don’t like to see any of my children hurt.” Harry didn’t know what to do or how to respond. Mrs. Weasley had been scolding him for flying and crashing as if he was her own. He had been about to experience the wrath of Mrs. Weasley that each one of the Weasley boys had been privy to over the years. And like their own experiences after doing something stupid and perhaps dangerous, beneath her reprimands had been deep matronly concern for him and his well being. He felt bad that he had made her worry, made everyone worry. “I-m…ss-orry,” Harry gasped as he squeezed her hand back “It’s alright,” Mrs. Weasley assured. “It’s fine…just relax now dear.” She gave him one last squeeze and then went off to assure the guests that things were okay now and to see if they needed anything. “Wh-y…do-es…it…feel…like,” Harry began to gasp as he sat there trying to let the mask soothe his breathing discomfort, “li-ike m-y…ch-est…’s…fil-led…with…wa-ter?” “ You have fluid in your lungs Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey informed him. “It’ll need to be drained to ease your breathing and prevent any infection.” “Ho-ow?” Harry asked, wanting the sick feeling of drowning in his own lungs to go away, but not wanting to have to go through any other intense procedures. “I could siphon it off for you…it’ll involve another–tube,” she told him grimly. Harry groaned and grimaced in both pain and frustration. “Or…I could loosen things up and you could expel it yourself.” “Expel?” inquired Ginny as she continued to try and soothe and ease Harry’s discomfort. “Cough it up,” Madam Pomfrey explained. “It’ll take longer…but I know how you much you dislike the other option.” Harry nodded in understanding and thanks for their being another way to get rid of this ailment. “I-‘ll co-ough,” Harry gasped again. “Alright, lean forward Mr. Potter and make sure the mask is clear of your mouth,” she ordered as she took out her wand again and pressed it against the left side of his back where his lung was. “When I start you’ll feel a bit of additional discomfort…just cough and try and get as much up as you can.” Harry shook his head up and down slightly, confirming that he was clear on what to expect. “What exactly is he going to be coughing u–” Ginny started to asked, but a sick gargling sound interrupted her and Harry began to cough and choke hard on the fluid rising from his lungs. And then to her horror and everyone who was watching, a spray and stream of liquid spewed from Harry’s mouth and onto the green grass below, wetting it and coloring it a sick crimson. “Holy shi–” One of the twins began to swear. “Help him! He’s coughing up blood Poppy!” Remus cried as he watched Harry continue to struggle to clear his lungs. “He punctured his lung with his ribs…what kind of liquid did you expect there to be?” Madam Pomfrey responded as she rubbed Harry’s back while he continued to spit and force out the mixture of blood, mucus, and saliva. “It’s okay Harry,” Ginny soothed, “You’re ok…just a bit more.” But Ginny didn’t really know if she would be ok. There was an awful lot of blood on the ground now and she wanted to plug her ears to drown out the sounds Harry was making. But she couldn’t turn away or get away from it. She remained sitting beside him with a hand on his knee and her other hand was rubbing through his disheveled and soaked hair, trying her best to calm him and make things better for him. Nearly half a minute later, the sounds of choking were replaced by heavy breathing and the occasionally spitting. Though his breathing was still labored, it sounded drier and if possible, a bit healthier. Harry continued to snort and sniff, expelling and ridding the excess blood and mucus from his nose and mouth. After a bit, he tilted his head towards Ginny. His lips and chin were speckled with red spray and there was a bit dripping from his nose. If she didn’t know that he was going to be okay, she would have probably fainted at the sight of him. “Can…I have…a handker-chief…and a…glass of…water?” he asked between breaths and then hung his head back down, blowing heavily out of his nose. “Yeah…whatever you need,” she replied as she gestured to Remus who had been listening from the other side. He pulled out a white cloth from his pocket and handed it to Ginny, who in turn held it out for Harry to take. Harry wiped his mouth and nose with it, pulling it away to reveal the white surface liberally streaked with blood. From somewhere in the crowd, a glass of water was passed to Ginny. Harry took the glass and took a liberal gulp, lifted his head backwards to swish it around in his mouth, and then spit the clouded water out. He began to cough again and wheeze with the action, and the mask was once again put over his mouth and nose to calm his labored breathing down. “Thanks,” he whispered to Madam Pomfrey as she moved away after placing the mask on him. “It’s really Miss Granger and Miss Weasley you should be thanking,” the matron corrected as she gestured to Hermione who was half-supporting Ron’s weight as he leaned against her, still holding his bruised stomach that had been on the receiving end of Harry’s foot. Harry raised his eyebrows at the comment and glanced over at Hermione who was biting her lip nervously. “Hermione saved your life mate,” Ron interjected, smiling down at his girlfriend. “She jumped in when no one knew what to do,” Ginny offered, “She did CP--?” “CPR,” Hermione finished when Ginny couldn’t remember the letters to the procedure. Harry eyes widened in surprise and then he inclined his head in thanks. Being raised as a Muggle until he was ten meant that he knew exactly what Hermione had done. He was a bit weirded out that Hermione had had her lips on his and was breathing for him. But she had kept him alive and without more damage than could have been possible. “Where did you learn to do that anyway?” Ron asked suddenly. “A few summers ago my mum saw a notice for a class at a local school. Being in the medical profession, they thought it might be a good idea for me to learn it. And with you two as my best friends…I thought it wouldn’t be a bad thing,” she said, trying to manage a chuckle. “Well it certainly came in handy,” Charlie spoke up for the first time. “Though for a second I thought perhaps Hermione was about to confess her secret love to Harry with a good snog before he kicked the bucket,” Fred joked before being silenced by a good elbow to the gut from Hermione, who he was standing along side. Harry couldn’t help but snort and laugh at the exchange, but his own laughter was cut short by his protesting lungs and airway and he instead burst into another coughing fit. “Harry I can give you something for the pain and to soothe your breathing,” Madam Pomfrey said as she sifted through her bag. “But it’ll knock you out for a while.” “Why don’t we all call it a day and head in?” Mr. Weasley interjected. “We you can you up to bed so you can relax,” he added, nodding at Harry, “and the rest of us–” “No,” Harry gasped loudly as he shook his head. He knew that the Weasley’s had been planning a bonfire and a fireworks display put on by the twins. They had recently developed a new line of everyone’s favorite explosives and wanted to unveil them to the crowd tonight. “Harry it’s really no bother–” Bill tried to assure him. “No…I don’t want to...ruin…everyone’s…fun,” Harry pressed. “I think I can…manage…bed on…my own.” “Are you sure?” Ginny asked him. “Harry…we’ve all had a long day–maybe we should–” But Harry shook his head adamantly. “Fleur’s family…don’t want to dis-sapoint them,” Harry gruffed. Harry tried to reinforce his insistence that no more of the evening’s festivities be interrupted, by attempting to lift himself from the chair so he could go up to the house. But as soon as he put pressure on his arm to push off, a deep stabbing pain enveloped his entire upper back and shoulder and he collapsed back into the cushions with a moan of pain. “Take it easy Harry,” Remus whispered into his ear as he put an arm gingerly around Harry. “I’ll take you in.” He helped lift Harry off of the chair, allowing Harry to lean against him as much as he could tolerate. “Make sure he takes this,” Madam Pomfrey said quietly as she handed Remus a small vial. Remus nodded in understanding and then allowed Harry to take a test step to make sure he was able to walk without an intolerable amount of pain. Each step sent a jarring pain up Harry’s left side and his shoulder ached horribly as he leaned against Remus, but the dull roar of pain was tolerable for now. The only thing he needed to worry about was keeping his breath. But the mask and letting Remus do most of the work was keeping another fit at bay. Harry allowed Remus to lead him up into the kitchen of the Burrow and half-carry him up the stairs and into the room that he was sharing with Ron and Neville. Remus helped him slowly sit on his bed. As Remus pulled away though, Harry found himself unable to stay sitting up without support. The muscles of his injured back and side were spasming and protesting in earnest, causing him to fall back onto the bed and lay there breathing hard and trying not go cry out in pain and frustration. He tried to sit back up, but the pain kept him on the mattress. “Just lay there kid,” Remus told him. “I’ll do the rest.” Harry lay there as he felt Remus pull off his jeans, shoes, and socks, leaving him lying on the bed in only his boxers and the cloak he had draped over his shoulders. He wanted to feel horrified or embarrassed, but he knew he wouldn’t have been able to bend down and pull them off and he didn’t feel like sleeping in his jeans and shoes. “This feels too familiar,” he grumbled, finding irony in the fact that he was now dependent again on someone else to help him get dressed or undressed. “Does it now?” Remus replied with a tone of slight amusement. There seemed to more intended in Remus’s comment than just the fact that he helped Harry dress himself yesterday. Was he talking about him and Ginny? “Erm…yeah,” Harry replied rather croakily and in an unnaturally high tone. “It’s alright Harry. I won’t ask questions or press for any macho details. Just…exercise caution and use your brain, ok?” Remus responded, sounding very father-like as he helped Harry slide back onto the bed and under his covers. He cast a knowing smirk and waited for Harry to respond. Harry cast a reluctant smile of acceptance and appreciation as he uncomfortably slid into the pillows, mindful of his throbbing back. Remus took the vial that Madam Pomfrey had given him out of his pocket and uncorked it as Harry shifted on the bed. “I think a little relief is in order,” Remus smiled as he helped Harry sit up and tip the vile so he could drink its contents without being in too much pain. Harry gratefully downed the chalky concoction and allowed himself to be lowered back down so he could settle into the pillow. Remus replaced the cork on the empty bottle and set it on the bedside table, conjuring himself a chair and then sitting next to Harry’s bed so he could wait for him to drift off and make sure nothing was going to go wrong. They both sat there in silence for a bit. There was a leftover air of awkwardness from their previous exchange as well as the tension and frustration. Remus broke it by sighing deeply and letting out some of that built-up stress. “Good God Harry…do you have to give me a heart attack every other day?” Remus sighed, sounding thoroughly exasperated, yet trying to sound a bit light-hearted. Harry closed his eyes and breathed out against the wave of sudden calmness that was washing over his throbbing body. “I’m sorry Remus,” he apologized, fully meaning it. He didn’t like that he made everyone worry about him constantly. “I didn’t expect to crash like that…I just…I thought I could pull it off–” “I know Harry,” Remus conceded. “Harry, don’t think all of our concern or worry is because of the accident or because of your injuries that resulted from it. I’m really not sure you could have pulled out of that roll if you were fully capable to tell you the truth.” “It’s just–Harry–you stopped breathing,” Remus said with urgency and high emotion in his voice. “Your lips turned blue and that helpless-scared feeling I had when we found you in the hospital a few weeks ago came back and hit me head on. I was terrified, we all were.” “I was scared too,” Harry said in a small voice. “When I hit the ground I got that same…piercing pain in my chest that I got right before…before they opened me up.” Harry paused to reign in his wavering emotions. “But I was afraid this time I wouldn’t wake up…that I’d thrown everything away by doing something stupid and pushing too hard,” Harry berated himself. “I think some of the blame rests on us Harry,” Remus admitted. Harry scrutinized him with a confused look. “We’ve been so protective of you, keeping you safe while you recovered. I think that we made you believe that maybe you had something to prove to us.” “No…I had to prove to myself that I could do it,” Harry countered. “And I really succeeded in that,” he mumbled to himself. “It was a pretty spectacular move…if you’d have pulled out of it completely,” Remus interrupted, trying to divert Harry from his self-pity, berating mood. “You did catch the Snitch,” he added. “I guess that counts for something…if you forget about my spectacular crash and the fact I almost died…again…as a result,” Harry reasoned, half-chuckling to himself. Remus smiled at Harry’s interjection of some humor into an entirely serious situation and set of circumstances. Remus breathed out deeply as he watched Harry’s features begin to relax and as the potion continued to soothe and relax his battered muscles and body. “Just don’t do that to me again kid,” Remus chuckled. “I’m not sure how much more worry and near-death experiences I can take from you.” Remus expected to Harry to laugh or snort at the comment or come back with some cheeky retort of his own. But there was no sound or response. Remus thought perhaps he had finally succumbed to the pain potion. But as he looked over he noticed that Harry was looking resolutely out the window, his face somber and serious. “Harry, are you ok?” Remus asked worried that the potion wasn’t working how it was suppose to. Harry responded by closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath through his nose. “I can’t promise you that,” Harry replied quietly, still not meeting Remus’s gaze. . Harry’s face seemed to contort into an almost pained expression, as if he were fighting a battle of thoughts in his head. Remus was suddenly jolted by the memory from a few weeks ago when he had comforted Harry after he had witnessed the brutal attack on the Johnsons. He had met Remus with the same exact face at the time, saying that he had something to tell him, but it would have to wait. “Can’t promise me what? Harry?” Remus asked, trying to keep the nervousness and tension out of his voice. Harry continued to ponder the sky outside the window. “Harry?” Remus inquired again. “I think it’s time,” Harry said softly as he turned to meet Remus’s eyes. “After tonight’s events…I can’t afford to keep you all in the dark anymore.” Remus’s heart skipped a beat and he tried to keep his face as straight and emotionless as possible. “You mean you want to…to talk to the Order?” Remus asked, trying to get clarification to Harry’s words. Harry nodded and blinked rapidly, trying to keep his eyes open from the pull of the potion that was making it’s way through his system. “Yeah…” he breathed quietly. “As soon as possible.” “It’ll take a few days to get all of the Order here,” Remus explained, trying to drown out the urge to press Harry and make him spill right here and now. But Harry wanted to do this a certain way and Remus just had to extinguish his burning desire and need to know for sure if Harry was the Chosen One. “A lot of them are on missions-” “I don’t want the whole Order,” Harry interrupted. “Just the Weasleys, you and Tonks, Moody, Professor McGongall, Kingsley, and Hagrid.” “What do you want me to tell them?” Remus asked. “That I have something to share with them,” Harry replied simply. “Ok,” Remus sighed, finding it hard to fathom that they all would go for a simply explanation like that. “Fleur’s family is leaving in the morning…will tomorrow evening be enough time?” Harry nodded again, closing his eyes and then opening them to blink away the sleep still trying to take him over. “What about Luna and Neville?” Remus asked. “They–well–they’re actually here for safety reasons. They were involved in the battle at Hogwarts and the Ministry…I’m not sure how long they’ll be here.” “They can be there too,” Harry breathed out, his eyes closed fully now. He had gotten the impression that there had to be more than there seemed to Luna and Neville’s weeklong stay and the Burrow. He had found it odd that Luna was staying there when she lived on the other side of Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry also felt he owned it to them also. They were his friends and had been there to fight alongside him many times. Plus…Neville had the right to know things too. Though Harry wasn’t sure he could really tell him how close things had been to roles being reversed. “Alright,” Remus conceded. “I’ll make sure everyone knows.” Remus paused, watching Harry lie there with his eyes close, but still with the tense and burdened look across his features. “Harry?” Remus asked quietly when Harry didn’t respond or make any kind of sign that he had heard him. Remus reached and gently shook Harry’s shoulder, and was rewarded by a soft snore, signaling that he had finally succumbed to the potion. Remus lowered his head in thought, still with a hand on Harry as he slept. He had been so close to just asking Harry outright what his secret was. He desperately wanted to hear a confirmation or a declaration from the boys own lips that he was or was not The Chosen One. And he had to admit that the suspense of having to wait another day, knowing in less than twenty-four hours they’d know for sure, was killing him. Lupin pulled the covers farther around Harry and watched him for a bit, noting that his breathing was even and clear now. After sitting by his bedside for another half-an-hour or so, Remus stood up and walked slowly from the room, letting the weight of his own burden fill him. -------------------------------- ------ “Did he get to sleep alright?” asked Molly as Remus made his way out into the clearing where chairs had been set up around a bonfire. A little farther away on a hill, the twins could be seen setting up their fireworks display. But Remus didn’t answer Molly’s inquiry. “Remus?” Molly asked again as Remus walked slowly towards the crowd of chairs and took a seat next to Tonks. “Remus? Did Harry finally drift off?” “Wha?–yeah,” Remus responded after Molly had repeated the question and he suddenly felt all eyes seemingly on him. “Yeah…he fell asleep about a half hour ago.” Molly smiled in relief and then nodded before turning away to get something for one of the guests from the table of leftovers that had been brought over to the fireside. “Is everything alright Remus?” Tonks asked as she leaned over and took his hand, noticing a far-off look in his eye and the tension is his body. He seemed to be somewhere else totally. She knew that Harry’s crash and what had transpired after had rattled him, but something else was going on. Something else had happened. “Rem-?” Tonks started, but she was cut off. “I need you here tomorrow afternoon…Order business,” He said quietly. “I’m supposed to be on duty with Kingsley tomorrow for the Ministry,” she replied, furrowing her brows at him. “What’s this abou–?” “That’ll work…makes things easier actually,” Remus said to himself and to Tonks. “Just make sure you’re both here in the afternoon…it’s important,” he said with a sense of urgency. For the first time she caught his full attention and gaze. His eyes were glazed over and very tired looking. “Ok,” she said firmly, giving his hand a squeeze. “I can let Harper and–” “No,” Remus interrupted, “just you and Shacklebolt. It’s not an official Order meeting…just a few of us.” Tonks raised a questioning look, but did not press any farther at the moment. Perhaps whatever the meeting was going to be about was too risky to talk about in a setting where things could be overheard. “Alright, I’ll make sure we’re free,” Tonks assured him. “If you could make sure Alastor is here too,” Remus added. “Remus–Moody’s going to want to know why,” Tonks whispered, knowing the battle-tested retired Auror would want a reason and an agenda for an impromptu meeting. Remus sighed deeply, closing his eyes to relish in his thoughts before giving an answer. “Harry wants to talk to the Order,” Remus whispered as he leaned towards her just as the first wave of the twins’ fireworks illuminated the night sky. To observers, it would have appeared that Remus had leaned forward to place a kiss on Tonks’ cheek. But the shocked and concern on her face told otherwise. “He wants to--? Remus…you don’t think he–” Tonks stuttered. “I don’t for sure,” Remus replied darkly. “And we’re not going to jump to any conclusions until we listen to what he has to say.” “But Remus, you can’t possibly think that it could be anything other than–” Tonks offered in a hushed undertone that was still audible underneath the noise from the fireworks show still going on. “I have to hear him say it. It has to come from his mouth before I think or believe anything,” Remus hissed a little harsher than expected, cutting her off. Tonks slunk back into her chair, knowing that she was on the edge of pushing Remus too far. “We could be wrong Remus,” she offered, rubbing a hand down his arm. “We could be reading into things that don’t necessarily mean what we think they do.” Remus seemed to be pondering her words and mulling around all the different thought he had racing in his mind. As she inspected him closer, he noticed his gaze lingering on Ron, Hermione, and Ginny who were sitting in their own little area, a bit away from the main group. They were talking quietly to each other, seemingly oblivious to anything going on around them. Tonks continued to watch Remus study the trio, his brow furrowing and features working slowly. Finally, he let his gaze drift from them and he let out another, shaky and tense breath before turning to her studying eyes. “What happens if we’re not?” He said simply before turning his gaze reluctantly to the brilliantly illuminated night sky that seemed to be mocking the mood. ------------------------------- --- Harry was trying to hang onto the last vestiges of sleep to avoid the full blast of pain he knew would hit him once he tried to get up. From his horizontal position in the bed, he could feel a dull throb of discomfort pulsing through the muscles of his back and the left side of his chest. He was sure if he moved or sat up, it would intensify. But the light filtering through the curtains and onto his eyes, along with the fact that he really wasn’t tired, just sore, made it almost impossible to delay awaking for any longer. Taking a deep breathe to ready him for the pain, he rolled onto his side and reached for his glasses. To his surprise, the pain was tolerable, but still present. He groaned against the odd pressure and pulled his glasses on, causing him to start and almost cry out in surprise. There sitting on the bed across from him was Ron, fully dressed and watching Harry carefully. He looked around and Ginny was sitting on the end of the bed, examining him in the same manor Ron was. Hermione was sitting on Neville’s empty and made bed, playing with the covers. “Morning?” Harry questioned and greeted at the same time, his voice slightly hoarse. “You’re really going to go through with this?” Ron asked, ignoring Harry’s greeting and sounding uncharacteristically serious. Harry paused, recalling the previous night’s events and putting two and two together. “Yeah,” he replied simply. “Does everyone know that needs to?” “I guess,” Ron answered. “Everyone’s going a bit barmy, pestering us and blasting us with questions and pressing us to say what we know.” “That’s part of the reason we came up here,” Ginny interjected, playing with Harry’s foot that was sticking out of the covers near her. “That…and to see how you were doing.” “Did you say anything?” Harry asked quietly. “No. But mate…to be honest with you…I think they all have an inkling of what’s coming,” Ron offered frankly. “They’re worried,” Hermione said. “I don’t think they enjoy not being informed or in some sense of control,” she added as an afterthought. “Maybe I should welcome them to the club,” Harry mumbled sarcastically, causing Ron and Ginny to stifle a snort. “Really Harry,” Hermione threw in, being the lone source of complete seriousness. “Are you absolutely positive you want to do this? I know we forced the idea…but in the end…it’s your–” “I’ve come too close to loosing this chance, too many times as of late,” Harry interrupted. “I’m not going to wait until it’s too late…but I’m also not going to wait forever to end this. I admitted it before–I need help. But they deserve to know what’s at stake.” The other three all nodded in understanding at his firm revelation. “We’re here,” Ginny said, putting a comforting hand on his leg. “Just remember that, ok?” Harry inclined his head gratefully and then welcomed the kiss that she planted on his lips. “So Harry…have you thought of what you’re going to say?” Hermione asked. “What’s there to say?” Ron asked indignantly. “All he’s got to tell them is that he is ‘The Chosen One’ and he needs help.” “Ron…they’re going to want more than that. They’ll want explanations…they’ll have questions. And no doubt they’ll want proof,” Hermione replied studiously. “Proof? Where are we going to get that from,” Ron cried indignantly. “I’m sorry Harry…but all the proof we have is your word. Not that we don’t believe you of course…but you know my family and the Order. They won’t want to accept this…they’ll try hard to find something that disproves us.” Harry had already considered this response. He knew that no one wanted this to be put on his shoulders. “I’ll show them,” Harry answered simply. Ron put on a confused and clueless look. “Show them?” Ginny repeated, clearly as lost as Ron. “I’ll use the Pensieve and show them what they need to know,” Harry explained. “They can’t dispute that can they?” he added. “And you’re not worried about blowing up…up your brain when you do that?” Ron interjected, sounding a bit amused, yet sincerely worried. “Mr. Super-Wizard,” he added. “Ron,” Hermione warned. Harry had had the idea of showing them the memories ever since Ron and Hermione had confronted him. But he had to admit that things had gotten slightly more complicated since he had blown up the vase and discovered his powers were heightened. He still thought that showing the others the memories would be more concrete and easier than answering dozens of questions they were bound to throw at him. He just had to put aside the fear that he’d blow up his head or fry his brain while doing it. “It’s a risk,” Harry admitted, “but I think…I think I can do it. Hermione…I need you to show me how to remove memories, and how to do a projection of the image.” “I can show you how,” Hermione offered. “I’ve done some reading on it…though I’ll have to re-check for the projection.” Harry thanked her for her help and then the room fell into a tense and anticipatory silence. “Well…I’m going to go look up that information and I’ll be back,” Hermione interrupted the quiet. “I’ll help,” Ron added, getting up off the bed and following Hermione out of the room, leaving Harry and Ginny alone. They listen for the sound of their friends’ footsteps making their way downstairs to Ginny’s room where Hermione’s books were. “How’s your back?” Ginny said when the footsteps could no longer be heard. “Sore,” Harry admitted. “Well it could have been worse,” Ginny breathed as she shifted on Harry’s bed and ran a hand across his forehead, brushing away his fringe. Harry took advantage of this move and pulled her down onto the bed, grimacing a bit as she settled against his recently mended ribs. He gingerly wrapped his arm around her and she draped an arm across him, taking in the scent of her hair as they melded together. “It’s starting isn’t it?” she asked shakily. Harry breathed in deeply, relishing in her body against his and the closeness they were sharing. She was right. Telling the Order…asking for help. These were the first steps towards the end. Once they were informed and helped him control his magic, the real journey would start and these times he had with Ginny would be few and far between…if they happened at all. He didn’t want to let go…but he knew he would have to eventually. “Yeah…” he sighed after a pause, closing his eyes against the emotion. “But the sooner this begins…the sooner we can get to the end of all this.” “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Ginny whispered back. A/N: This Chapter is a bit shorter I have to admit. But as I started writing this…I thought the reveal should stand on its own. Also this chapter gave me a hard time and I had serious writer’s block the whole week. Every time I got a break from studying or work…I couldn’t write for some reason. I got it out way late and it’s probably not up to snuff for what it usually is. But I treated it more as a transitional bit. The real emotion and good stuff is coming up. It should be out quicker if my mental block has finally left me. |
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