Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. RL intruded with a vengeance, which really slowed the process. I'm hoping that several major story twists will keep you all from getting upset with me.
Kudos, as usual, to my splendid beta, cwarbeck. She edited the chapter in record time. Thanks, cel!
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Saving Harry | ||||||
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Category: Pre-OotP, Alternate Universe, Buried Gems Characters:All Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1040 Summary: What if JKR had never intended the Harry Potter series to be for children? How would Harry’s time at the Dursleys been written? This story focuses on the years Harry lived in the cupboard under the stairs at number four Privet Drive, as well as his first appearance at Hogwarts. The treatment he receives during his decade there is not described in fairy tale terms. The boy who initially develops is not the Harry Potter we know. The story is liberally AU, with different personality traits, events, and relationships used to reflect the changes in this very different Harry and the environment in which he grew up. In the end, through the assistance of a certain redheaded young lady, Harry ultimately finds the life he should have had and rediscovers the qualities he always had inside of him. While I am not a psychologist or child development expert, the symptoms, actions, and behaviors portrayed reflect the realities of child abuse. Appropriate disclosures will be contained in the Author’s Notes above the chapter when warranted. Hitcount: Story Total: 340861; Chapter Total: 13270 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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By lunch, the entire school knew what had transpired after the first period Potions class in the dungeon, though each story seemed more exaggerated than the previous one. Draco Malfoy, who already had a poor reputation, had become even more of a school laughing stock. His so-called friends also received their share of derision. Draco’s haughty, pale complexion seemed to have acquired a permanent fiery red tint in just the last few hours, and his anger at being treated less than his family’s position demanded swirled like a dark cloud around him. Whoever watched the boy as he and his four Housemates sat apart from the rest of the Slytherin students could see that he constantly whispered to the four other exiles, while flashing hateful glares towards the Gryffindor table. For the most part, the Gryffindors ignored the petulant ponce, Hermione being the primary exception. “Harry,” she whispered. “That’s the third time Draco’s stared in our direction. I’m really worried about what he may do.” “I’ve seen him, too, Hermione,” he answered. “I just don’t think he’ll do anything to us, since everyone would know it was him. Don’t worry.” Hermione sighed heavily. “You’re probably right. He just concerns me, with all his arrogance and pure-blood bigotry. Be careful, okay?” “I will.” Harry smiled at his friend. “You, too.” A few minutes later the Gryffindor first years left the Great Hall to face an even greater challenge than Draco Malfoy — the sleep-inducing, monotonous recitation of Magical History by Professor Binns. After the ninety minute nap was over, Harry and Hermione walked part of the way back to their dorm with Susan and Hannah. “Did you really levitate Malfoy to the top of the hallway and bump his head on the stone ceiling?” the wide-eyed Hannah asked. Harry and Hermione tried but couldn’t hold back their laughter. As soon as Harry realized the blonde witch’s question was sincere, he calmed down quickly. “Sorry. We can’t believe the stories that are going around. Okay, here’s what happened. Draco and the other four were all ganging up on Hermione, so I Silenced and Stunned them. I did levitate Draco, but only about five metres up. Then Hermione made me put him back on the ground.” He glanced at his friend. “She’s no fun at all.” The two Hufflepuff witches laughed, while Hermione put on a faux scowl, then smiled at the grinning wizard. The quartet soon split up as they went to their respective dormitories. After climbing through the Portrait hole, Harry said, “I’m going upstairs for a bit. I’ll see you before dinner.” “Okay, but don’t forget your Transfiguration essay is due tomorrow,” Hermione said. “Oh, no, I completely forgot about it. What’s it on again?” Harry looked slightly panicked. Hermione stared at him for a minute. “You’ve finished it, haven’t you?” She cocked her head. Harry nodded his head, smiling impishly. “Prat,” Hermione said, returning his smile. “Yup. See you later, Hermione.” The boy waved and started walking towards the staircase. “Not if I see you first,” she replied, stopping Harry in his tracks. The small boy started laughing. Finally regaining his breath, Harry said, “Good one, Granger.” Using her haughty voice, the brown-haired witch replied, “Thank you, Mr Potter.” Harry grinned at his friend and went upstairs. Once there, he sat on his bed and pulled out the letter from Ginny. Dear Harry, Har ry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so widely and for so long. He pulled out several pages of parchment and his self-inking quill, along with the Potter Philosophy book. Dear Ginny, ***** Harry put down the letter and quill, picked up the Potter Philosophy book, and started reading. The philosophy expressed by the third writer captured Harry’s interest. Dear Potter Heir, When you find yourself on a path not of your choosing, do not question it or cry out, saying the Fates have conspired against you. Do you believe Fate will listen and change the path you are on? No. Your fellow countrymen, both noble and of peasant stock, may applaud your efforts to persevere. But even that is not relevant. In truth, you have been placed on that vexing path, because you are the solution to the problem that has made the path undesirable. Do not waste precious time and temperament bemoaning the Fates or the task that lies ahead. Instead, embrace the challenge, for that is what makes man great. You were chosen, because you can solve the problem. Use the collective wisdom of the Potter Family to remove the problem and make the path one which everyone wishes to travel. You may find yourself leading a parade. Harry smiled at the idea of him and his friends leading a parade of Hogwarts students and staff, house elves and goblins, and the students’ families. Then, the thought of being the sole solution to a “vexing” problem crept into his thoughts, and he felt a cold chill flash down his spine. Harry quickly read the next entry from the third Lord Potter. The most respected members of the Potter Family through the centuries have dedicated their lives to providing solutions, whether knowingly selected or as a matter of personal nature. This outward-looking philosophy precludes self-involvement and self-interest, and at its most effective, serves to improve the society in which we dwell. This approach does not pay heed to the size of the problem that requires a solution, and it does not think it relevant the level of importance of the person or persons involved. A Potter Family member freely gives of his or her talents for the betterment of all. Harry winced when his thoughts went directly to his parents’ sacrifice for him. He knew in that moment that they had felt their actions were the best solution possible and were made for the betterment of all, including himself. The boy blinked rapidly but held back only some of the tears that had formed. He tried not to picture the hurried conversation, the instinctive decision, or the outcome. Somehow, he knew his parents had no doubt they were taking the best action possible. Harry closed his eyes and the images of his messy haired father and radiant mother came to him. I can feel them inside me, the boy thought, as a reassuring warmth coursed through his body. As he took a deep breath and brushed away the fallen tears, Harry’s thoughts went to his best friend. I need to mail this letter to Ginny. But first I want to write these sections, so she can read them. Once he had added the two sections of the Third Lord’s philosophy, Harry raced downstairs and found Ron playing Dean Thomas in chess. From the demolished players on the side of the board, Ron was obviously winning again. “I’m going to the Owlery,” Harry said and held up the letter. Ron winced, since he was close to winning the match. Harry immediately understood the redhead’s reaction and said, “Don’t worry. You don’t have to go with me. I’ll be fine.” Ron smiled in relief. “See you in a bit, then.” Harry left the common room and walked through the nearly vacant hallways to the Owlery. Hedwig flew down as soon as the boy entered the round tower. Landing on his shoulder, the owl nuzzled her head on Harry’s cheek. When she finished saying hello, he gave her two owl treats. “This is a letter for Ginny.” Hedwig nodded her head as if to say, ‘Of course it is.’ “Have a good flight, girl.” Hedwig pushed off lightly and glided through the open window. Harry watched as the late afternoon sun created a halo of light around his snowy owl. In a few more seconds, Hedwig disappeared into the clear blue sky, wending her way south to her owner’s best friend. Harry continued to look out the window at the peaceful scene, where the emerald green lawns rolled down to the lake, the darkening green forest beyond, and finally the shadowy blue grey sky at the horizon, as the sun’s rays became weaker. Walking back to the Gryffindor common room, Harry’s thoughts returned to the book. I really like the third Potter’s philosophies. It’s almost like I can feel him inside me and what he wrote about. I bet my father read that book.Harry shook his head.It’s weird, but I can sense the thoughts, like they’re a part of me. The small boy smiled to himself. “W here’s Harry?” Percy asked, as George and Fred looked on. Ron looked up from his second game with Dean. “Oh, he went to the Owlery to mail another letter to Ginny. Why?” George grimaced. “We better go find him.” The three older Weasley boys moved quickly to the Portrait hole, followed by a puzzled looking Ron. They were just about to turn a corner, when shouted words cracked through the previously silent hallways. Knowing Harry would be coming from the opposite direction, the four Weasley brothers sprinted down the next corridor, with their wands drawn. ”Stupefy! . . . Stupefy! . . . Incarcer . . .” Harry quickly reacted to the spells being cast, though he couldn’t see who was sending them. Protego Circulo, Silencio. Overwhelming heat flared through the boy’s body when he finished casting the spells, and he collapsed. Seconds later, the brothers fired off a series of curses at Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, Vincent Crabbe, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode, who were fanned out around the fallen body of Harry Potter. “Stupefy . . . Petrificus Totalus . . . Silencio . . . Stupefy . . . Stupefy . . . Stupefy.” The redheads approached the Stunned Slytherins and cast five Expelliarmus and five Incarcerous spells, then quickly went to Harry. “He’s burning up,” Percy said, quickly removing his hand from Harry’s forehead. The prefect puzzled over Harry’s condition for a second, then pointed his wand at the boy and muttered “Finite”. Some of the bright red colour left Harry’s complexion, but heat continued to roll off his body. “George, get the headmaster quickly,” Percy urged. George ran down the hall as fast as he could, skidding as he reached the first corner, then disappearing from sight. “Ron, Fred, keep on eye on these miscreants, please,” Percy asked. “I’ll try to do something for Harry.” The two brothers moved to either side of the group, their wands out, barely keeping their rage from boiling over. Percy was lost, deep in thought. Seconds later, he smiled briefly. “Aguamenti.” A stream of water emerged from Percy’s wand, and he directed it first towards Harry’s chest and torso. Then he cupped his left hand, filled it, and gently poured the water on the boy’s forehead and hair. Seemingly just seconds later, the staccato sounds of shoes rapidly hitting the stone floor reached the three boys. Albus Dumbledore, running faster than anyone would have thought possible, reached the group, with George arriving seconds later. The headmaster immediately kneeled next to the prone figure and began to move his wand over Harry’s body. The headmaster’s face reflected myriad emotions, with sorrow being the greatest. “Excellent idea to douse him with water, Mr Weasley. He is burning up, but the heat is coming from inside him, which is most peculiar.” The headmaster waved his wand and three silvery forms sped off. Next, he conjured a stretcher and levitated Harry onto it. Moments later, Professors McGonagall and Snape arrived. “It appears that Mr Malfoy and his compatriots attacked Mr Potter. Please take them to my office.” He stared in disgust at the five Slytherins. “You may wish to keep the Silencing spell on them. We’ll take Harry to the hospital. Once he’s settled, I’ll return to my office to handle these five students.” McGonagall and Snape nodded their understanding. The various Weasleys returned the Slytherins’ wands to the professors, and set off with the headmaster towards the hospital, as the two remaining professors began their job of moving the remaining students to the headmaster’s office. “Do you know what happened?” Dumbledore asked Percy. “Yes, sir,” Percy replied immediately. “We saw Malfoy and the others begin to cast curses at Harry. They were initially hidden in alcoves, so he couldn’t see them. They cast two Stupefy spells and part of an Incarcerous, then nothing. Harry probably cast a Silencio silently and wandlessly, but I think he may have cast another spell, also, because when I cast a Finite on him, his complexion became slightly less red . . .” “You are exactly right, Mr Weasley. First of all, twenty points to you for your excellent assessment and response to the situation. Ten points to each of your brothers. Thank you, boys, for being so quick. “Harry also cast a Protego Circulo. Because the spells reached him before he raised the shield, it functioned to keep the spells inside, rather than the spells dissipating naturally. The shield Harry cast was so strong the spells essentially rebounded multiple times inside it. That is why his complexion got less red when you cancelled the shield. Again, excellent thinking, Mr Weasley. Unfortunately, the contained spells seem to have created an internal fire in Harry. At least, that’s my theory at this point. “Ah, good, here we are.” Madame Pomfrey, having received the headmaster’s message, met the five wizards and their patient as soon as they entered the hospital ward. She quickly levitated the stretcher carrying Harry to a bed close to her office at the far end of the room. “Albus, students attacking students in the hallways of the school? What is the world coming to?” The nurse gently moved Harry from the stretcher onto the bed and immediately began to cast diagnostic spells over the boy, while the headmaster and Weasley boys watched closely. Madame Pomfrey’s forehead furrowed in concentration, as she read the results of her spells. Finally, shaking her head, she turned to Professor Dumbledore. “I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s as if the two spells that hit him, stayed inside his body for a period of time . . .” “That is exactly what I think happened, Poppy. Harry cast a Protego Circulo,” the witch’s eyebrows rose rapidly, “and I think it contained the spells inside the shield. Percy Wesley guessed something was wrong and cancelled the spell, not knowing if or what it was.” “It’s a good thing he did,” the nurse exclaimed. “The boy is burning up inside. I’m concerned what it could do to his magical core, if it goes on too long. We need to cool him down and make sure he remains hydrated. All of his vital organs are properly functioning, so that is a good sign.” Madame Pomfrey cast a Cooling Charm, waited a minute and took the boy’s temperature again, frowned, and cast a second Cooling Charm. While she waited to measure the effect of the second charm, the mediwitch poured a glass of water, and with Professor Dumbledore’s help, raised Harry to a sitting position. Small sips were given to the boy and the witch watched closely to make sure he swallowed each time, ready to cast a Swallowing Spell should he not do so instinctively. Taking Harry’s temperature again, Madame Pomfrey nodded her head in satisfaction. “We just need to wait now, Albus. I will check on him every thirty minutes, but after an experience like this, I doubt he will be waking up soon. I will keep you informed, of course.” “Thank you, Poppy,” the headmaster replied. “Gentlemen, you probably should return to your common room.” Ron asked, “We can’t stay with him?” “I will let you know immediately when Madame Pomfrey advises me that Harry has woke up,” the headmaster advised. “Again, my thanks to each of you for responding so quickly. I shudder to think what would have happened if you four had not been there.” “Thank you, sir,” Percy said and looked meaningfully at his three younger siblings. “We’ll return to the common room now.” “I will advise your parents of the developments,” the headmaster said, “once I have dealt with the Slytherin students.” Albus Dumbledore shook his head, suddenly looking every year of his century and a half age. The Gryffindor students, having heard the distress in the Weasleys’ voices when they left the common room, quickly crowded around the redheads when they returned. Percy quieted the cacophony of questions by holding up his hand. “Stop!” The strong action caused the noise to end as if someone had thrown a switch. “Let me explain what happened, then we will answer any questions you may have,” Percy said, as if he were conducting a classroom lesson. “Harry was attacked by Malfoy and the four other Slytherins who were part of the attack earlier on Miss Granger.” An angry buzz rose from the students, with threats of retribution on Slytherin House. Percy’s eyes blazed. “No one is going to attack anyone else.” He paused and looked at his Housemates. “The five are already in Professor Dumbledore’s office, along with Professors McGonagall and Snape. They will handle this. Is that understood?” Mumbles greeted Percy’s question, but no one argued, so he continued. “Harry is in the hospital, being cared for by Madame Pomfrey. He currently is unconscious.” A series of gasps arose from the group. “From what the professor and nurse could tell, Harry responded so quickly with a Shield spell it caused two Stunners to be contained within the shield, so they didn’t dissipate.” “How could a simple shield contain a spell?” Hermione asked. Percy’s eyes widened, then his head dropped as realization hammered against him. “Harry used an advanced Shield spell I taught him,” Percy whispered, his face turning a blotchy red. “It creates a circular shield that encloses the caster from attacks from all sides. If he had used a regular shield, the spells wouldn’t have been contained . . .” George interrupted, “Percy, there’s no telling what could have happened . . .” “That shield may have helped him,” Fred added. “You can’t beat yourself up.” “They’re right, Percy,” Oliver Wood said, as the students around him nodded their heads and murmured their agreement. “What are they doing for Harry?” “Because the spells were contained, they created a great deal of heat inside Harry,” Percy explained. “Madame Pomfrey is lowering his body temperature to counteract that. She also will keep him well hydrated.” “When can we visit him?” Katie asked. “Professor Dumbledore will tell me when Harry is better. Visits will not be allowed until then.” Despite the distress showing on the students’ faces, they reluctantly agreed with Percy’s pronouncement and began to return to the desks and chairs. Ron turned to Hermione. “You may want to tell Harry’s friends in the other Houses what has happened. It’s probably better they hear from you than some rumour.” Hermione looked curiously at the redhead. “That’s a good suggestion, Ron. Thank you.” She paused again. “Would you go with me?” The redhead looked gobsmacked for several seconds. “Sure. Want to go now?” Hermione nodded her head. “Let me just put my books away. I’ll be right back.” The bushy-haired witch quickly collected her things and returned minutes later. The odd couple climbed through the Portrait hole and awkwardly, silently started walking towards the Hufflepuff dormitory. Finally, Hermione looked at Ron. “What did you and your brothers see when you got there?” Ron closed his eyes, as if picturing the scene. When he reopened them, they looked haunted. “They were all hidden in alcoves, so Harry couldn’t see them. Malfoy and someone else got off Stunning Spells, but Harry must have cast the Shield and Silencing Spells, so those were the only spells they got off. We stunned them, got their wands, and tied them up.” Hermione eyes had widened considerably. “Ron, if you hadn’t gone to check on Harry they could have hurt him more badly.” Ron looked briefly at the witch, the pain obvious in his eyes. “We promised to go with him whenever he left the common room, so he wouldn’t be alone. He told me he was going to the Owlery but said I could continue playing chess. If I’d gone with him . . .” “You’d be in the hospital, too,” Hermione said, reaching out and squeezing the distraught boy’s arm. “It’s the same as Percy and the advanced shield. You can’t blame yourself, just be glad you got there before it got worse.” The redhead breathed deeply. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked at the girl walking next to him. “Thanks, Hermione.” “You’re welcome, Ronald.” With a combination of luck and good timing, Hermione and Ron eventually were able to gain entry into each of the other common rooms and explain what had happened. By the time, they finished their tour, a group of first years was accompanying the two Gryffindors. Padma Patil spoke up. “We should discuss what we can do to help Madame Pomfrey, visit Harry, destroy Malfoy . . .” a number of students chuckled at the last activity. Hermione suggested, “Why don’t we go back to the Gryffindor common room? I’m sure there are others in our House who would want to be involved in anything we do.” Hermione’s suggestion was met with silence. She looked around curiously. Finally Susan Bones said, “Hermione, students don’t go into the common rooms of other Houses.” Hermione got a glint in her eye that was unmistakable, and her voice was like soft steel. “Harry brought us together.” She smiled internally when she saw everyone nod or smile. “If something had happened to one of us, he would bring us all together, right?” More nods, some more energetic than the first time. “I don’t think anyone in Gryffindor would mind any of you coming into our common room to plan how we can help Harry. Don’t you agree, Ron?” The redhead looked startled, then blurted, “Whatever you say, Hermione.” The statement caused everyone to laugh. They relaxed completely when Hermione added, “Besides, we don’t have the reputation of being rabble-rousers . . . yet.” The friends were chatting and laughing as Ron and Hermione led them through the Portrait hole. Nevertheless, they stopped abruptly when they entered the circular tower and looked around, concerned how they would be received. The Gryffindors looked up, saw the new arrivals were Harry’s group of friends, and returned to whatever they had been doing. The friends heaved a collective sigh of relief and made their way over to the sofa and comfy chairs arrayed in front of the fireplace. Percy, the twins, Lee Jordan, the rest of the Quidditch team, and the remaining first years all joined the group. Percy looked at Hermione and smiled at the first year. “What are you planning, Hermione?” The young witch exhaled and smiled shyly at the fifth year prefect. “Padma,” she pointed out Parvati’s identical twin, “suggested we find out how we can help Madame Pomfrey, schedule visits so Harry won’t be alone, plot revenge on Malfoy . . .” Before Percy could say anything the group started laughing. The tall redhead’s backbone actually seemed to loosen a bit. “Good one, Hermione.” She smiled back. “It was Padma’s joke.” Padma nodded her head when Percy looked over at her with a smile. “We hope Harry recovers quickly, of course. But if he doesn’t, we want to be doing everything possible to help him.” The students from all four Houses nodded in agreement. An hour later, a list had been made, responsibilities accepted, and the group finally broke up, but each person took back the feeling that despite the block walls and differing qualities that separated the four Houses they had friends wherever they went in school. Whi le the four Weasleys returned to Gryffindor Tower, Albus Dumbledore slowly made his way back to his office, wondering how things had got so bad so quickly this school year. His thoughts went to the Malfoy boy, who had consistently been in trouble — even before arriving at Hogwarts. He’s just eleven-years old, Albus thought. How could he think in terms of attacking students? The other four, he dismissed as followers based solely on the Malfoy family name and position. Without realizing it, the headmaster arrived at the foot of the stairs that led to his office. Only the movement of the gargoyle brought him back to the present, and he rode up the stairs, still not certain how to determine the futures of the five students. Perhaps their actions and attitudes will direct my decisions, the headmaster hoped, as he opened the door to his office. Seven heads turned to see who had entered the office. Draco turned away, staring at the wall behind the headmaster’s leather-covered desk chair, somehow still maintaining a smirking, superior expression. Crabbe and Goyle resemble mini-trolls, the headmaster mused, but the two witches look frightened, though both are trying to hide it. As Dumbledore walked towards his desk, Professors McGonagall and Snape cancelled the Silencing Spells on the students. “I protest being treated like a common criminal,” Draco immediately complained. “Wait until my father . . .” “Mr Malfoy,” Snape sharply interrupted the boy’s diatribe. “Your father most likely would again be embarrassed by your actions. You would be best served by remaining silent until you are asked a question.” Malfoy stared angrily at his Head of House but remained quiet. The headmaster sat down, and his eyes swept the room, stopping briefly but intently on each of the students in front of him. Snape stood against the wall, next to the large window, while Professor McGonagall stood on the opposite side of the room, near Fawkes’ perch. The headmaster looked at his deputy. “Professor McGonagall, would you provide a summary of what happened?” “Of course, Headmaster. From what we could tell, these five ambushed Mr Potter in the corridor about halfway between the library and the staircases . . .” “That is not true,” Malfoy interrupted. Every head in the room turned in shock towards the blond boy. “The Weasleys and Potter attacked us in the hallway . . .” Professor McGonagall snapped, “Would you like us to retrieve a pensieve memory from one of the Weasleys? Or perhaps you would want to offer one as corroboration of your story?” Draco’s eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. “They can be tampered with.” “Mr Malfoy,” Snape said coldly. “Perhaps it would behove you to tell the truth. You are in enough trouble already.” Malfoy again glared at the Potions Professor. The headmaster looked at the four other Slytherins. “Do any of you wish to say anything?” Four heads immediately turned to Malfoy, who shook his head slightly, which the four followers, immediately mimicked. “Well, then, it appears that the five of you launched an unprovoked attack . . .” Draco’s head snapped up but he held his tongue. Dumbledore regarded Draco for several moments before continuing. “You attacked Mr Potter, which necessitated us moving him to the school hospital, with injuries we cannot diagnose as yet.” Four of the five students each wore similar expressions of shock, which quickly became anger, as they glared at Malfoy. “Since the intent of your attack obviously was to injure Mr Potter, your punishment . . .” “Stop!” Draco yelled. Again, all eyes in the room turned to the boy. “Professor Snape suggested we attack Potter . . .” “Mr Malfoy, that is enough!” Snape’s normally sallow complexion quickly moved from red to purple, as he yelled at the boy. He turned abruptly towards the headmaster. “That is categorically untrue.” “Albus?” Everyone turned to the fireplace in the headmaster’s office, which held the green-flamed head of a confused looking Arthur Weasley. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked. “Ginny hasn’t been feeling well, but that’s not why I’m calling. She thinks Harry has been hurt.” Mr Weasley ended his explanation with a questioning look on his face. Dumbledore walked over to the hearth and spoke quietly with Harry’s guardian. “I was just going to call you and Molly. Unfortunately, Ginny is right. Harry has been hurt. I’m sorry, Arthur, but it looks serious at this point.” Arthur Weasley closed his eyes. “If you would wait five minutes, I’ll leave the Floo open so you can come through.” “Yes, of course, we’ll be there in five minutes. Thank you, Albus.” Albus Dumbledore turned angrily to face the five students. “I will determine your punishment at a later time. Until then, you are restricted to your dormitory. So there is no misunderstanding, you are not allowed out for meals or lessons. Your Head of House will coordinate meals and the material covered in classes. Except for supervised class work, he will retain your wands.” He turned to Professor Snape, who nodded his head in acknowledgment. “You are encouraged to use this time to reflect on the path you have chosen and to consider the ramifications of that decision. You are dismissed. Professor Snape, please see them back to their dorm. Oh, yes, one hundred points from Slytherin. Professor McGonagall, please stay here with me.” Minutes later, the fire flared and the three Weasleys entered the headmaster’s office. Ginny looked beyond distraught. “I could feel something happening, Professor,” she said in a small, worried voice. Minerva McGonagall knelt down, so she was on the same level as the petite witch. “Would you explain what you felt, Ginny?” “I’m not sure when I felt it, but less than an hour ago. Two shocks to my body, then I got really hot, like I was burning up inside. That lasted for a while, then I started cooling down.” She looked at the professor with eyes so sad they tugged on the witch’s heart. “Somehow I knew it was Harry who was hurt, not me.” The professor looked at Ginny, then her parents. “That’s what happened. Five students from another House attacked Harry when he was returning from the library.” “Was he alone?” Molly asked. “Yes, that’s right. Your four boys probably saved him from worse injury, by responding quickly when they determined Harry was out by himself. They arrived in time to Stun and capture the five students.” McGonagall turned to Dumbledore, who continued the discussion. “Let’s walk to the hospital ward, while I tell you what else happened,” the headmaster suggested. By the time they were walking up the corridor to the hospital wing, he had finished the story, and the Weasleys, especially Ginny, were seething. But it was Molly, who spoke first. “Albus, I can’t believe students — and first years at that — attacked a single student like that. What’s going on at this school that eleven-year olds would resort to that type of behaviour?” Molly’s eyes were blazing by the time she ended, while both Arthur and Ginny looked at the headmaster, waiting for his response. “Alas, Molly, it was an act of desperation by a student who has had great difficulties adjusting to Hogwarts. Draco has lost more points in the first week of school than any other student in history. I think Harry’s stopping him from belittling Hermione Granger was the last straw for the boy, and he lashed out without thinking of the consequences of his actions. I truly believe it is a one-time event, and not indicative of the safety of the students at school.” Dumbledore held the door open for the Weasleys, and as soon as Ginny saw where Harry was, she took off at a sprint. When she arrived at his bed, she held his hand in both of hers and began to whisper to the still unconscious boy. “Harry, we’re here, Mum, Dad, and me.” She giggled self-consciously. “This is Ginny, in case you couldn’t tell from my voice.” “Ginny,” her dad said gently. “Harry’s in a coma. He can’t hear you.” Ginny’s head whipped around and she glared at her father. “But what if he can hear us? I want to be with him . . . please? He needs someone here.” Arthur smiled at his daughter. “You’re right, Firefly. You can stay. I know Harry will appreciate it.” Ginny quickly returned her father’s smile and resumed whispering to her best friend. The raging waves pelted Harry, as he desperately held on to the sides of the small row boat he was in. The wind whipped the boat through the cresting waves, moving it closer and closer to the jagged boulders at the base of the cliff that rose like a shadow from the ocean’s edge. Through the driving rain and his water-drenched glasses, Harry saw two other small boats had already been driven into the rocks. If there were any survivors, they couldn’t be seen. The oars had been ripped out of the boy’s hands by a massive wave that had come out of the flashing darkness and crashed over him and the small boat. Despite his attempts to grab the oars, they were quickly carried away by the surging tide, leaving the boy without any means to navigate away from the danger. Thunder continued to drum in counterpoint to the flashes of lightning that lit the obsidian sky. With each crackling illumination, Harry could see more details on the jagged, looming rocks as the small boat was pushed towards its inevitable doom. Harry threw his weight to the left side of the boat with all the force he could muster, trying to change the course of the boat. At the same time, he heard a heartfelt, desperate wail above the storm’s crashing noise. “Nnnooooooo!!!” The boy’s head whipped around towards the sound, and he froze at the image looming no more than ten metres behind him. The giant, man-like creature seemed to grow from the ocean itself, with his long, silver grey hair and beard whipping around his head from the gale force gusts of wind. For a split second, Harry captured the eyes of the giant and was shocked when he saw remorse reflected in them. In the next second a wave surged under the boat and lifted it in one final push towards its destruction. Harry closed his eyes and braced himself for the crash. Seconds later, instead of feeling the boat being smashed against the rocks, Harry felt . . . nothing. The boy opened his eyes and found he was now standing in a meadow that covered the top of the cliff as far as he could see when lightning lit the sky. From his vantage point by the edge of the cliff, he watched the waves continue to crash into the boulders below, sending silver grey sprays of water that briefly stood apart from the foaming ocean before their energy ran out and they returned from whence they came. Harry turned quickly when he heard the soft sound of muted foot steps behind and to the side of him. The man and woman were only two metres away when Harry finally could recognize their faces. “You!” he screamed. “What have you got me into?” His mum and dad stopped in mid-step, shock frozen on their faces, their eyes wide and questioning. “I try to do what people tell me, and what happens? Draco and his followers curse me. Nobody was helping Hermione, so I had to. Now, I’m in the hospital and nobody knows what to do.” “But, Harry,” his mum said softly . . . “Don’t ‘But Harry’ me. You haven’t lived my life. Did you see that Dumbledore kicked me off the Quidditch team? And for what? All I wanted to do was see the stupid houses you left me. Of course, the headmaster never told me about them. I had to hear about my own family from the Gringotts goblins. Great job, you did. You knew Voldemort was after you. Why didn’t you get things set up right? Then that old man couldn’t have put me with the Dursleys. I could have grown up in the wizarding world and not be treated like a freak all my life.” “Harry!” His father said sharply. “We didn’t plan any of this. You need to calm down.” “No I don’t,” the boy screamed, and he threw out his arms out towards his parents, banishing them into the darkness. The boy turned sharply towards the groups of people who were milling thirty, forty metres from the cliffs. The wind and rain and mist obscured them, so they were visible only as ill-defined grey images. Harry walked towards the closest group. As he passed, a blonde girl eyed him suspiciously, but the others studiously ignored him. No matter what he said or did, he couldn’t attract the attention of anyone standing in the meadow. The boy finally saw the night sky begin to show the first signs of morning. The sun cast a hazy reddish tint on a group furthest from him. Harry began walking as quickly as he could in their direction, feeling something akin to a tidal pull. When the distance remained the same, he began to run, finally stopping when his sides ached and his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. The group remained the same distance away, so the boy turned and walked back to the edge of the cliff, anger exploding off his body like bolts of lightning and thoughts of retribution drumming on his brain. The storm picked up in intensity. Ginny quickly walked to Madame Pomfrey’s office. “Harry has gotten warmer again and is sweating.” The nurse looked up from the large book she was studying. “Thank you, Miss Weasley, I’ll be right there.” Ginny quickly returned to Harry and watched as her mum wrung out a damp cloth and placed it on the boy’s fevered forehead. The medi-witch arrived and cast another set of diagnostic spells on the boy. Shaking her head, she said, “His temperature is even higher than before. The Cooling Charms don’t protect him against these surges. I wish I knew what caused them. I haven’t found anything like this in any of my books.” The nurse shook her head again and muttered the words for two more Cooling Charms, checked Harry’s temperature, and cast a third charm. “Have you been giving him water every fifteen minutes?” she asked. Molly Weasley nodded her head. “A full glass each time.” “Let’s do that every ten minutes then.” Madame Pomfrey looked from Molly to Ginny. “Thank you for helping out. I’ll continue to research. Please let me know if there are any more changes.” The two Weasley witches nodded and the nurse returned to her office. Ginny resumed her non-stop chatter, telling Harry about everyday life at The Burrow, her reactions to the four Potter houses they had visited, the enjoyment of flying, especially with him, and anything else that came to her mind. Her monologue stopped abruptly, though, when Harry began to thrash violently. Ginny instinctively reached out to hold his arms down, but stopped the movement, thinking it could make her friend even angrier, for that’s the emotion she felt rolling off him. Her mum reached out with the same intent, but Ginny stopped her. “I think holding him down would make Harry even more upset. He needs to get this out of his system.” Molly looked curiously at her daughter, but she did pull back her hands. “You think he’s acting out what he’s dreaming about?” “Something like that,” Ginny replied. “Harry feels very upset about something, and that’s causing him to do this.” “Are you feeling what he’s feeling?” her mum asked. Ginny shook her head. “No, I just understand what he’s feeling.” T he third Lord Potter’s philosophies about not fighting Fate, being the solution to problems, and leading people kept hammering at Harry’s mind. I don’t want to be the solution or lead people. I just want to be left alone. Look what happened when I did try to help people. Dumbledore gets on me for making friends outside of Gryffindor and Malfoy curses me for helping Hermione. Forget about Fate, I don’t want to do this. The boy felt like heavy chains weighed down his arms and legs, and he fought incessantly against them, trying to free himself. ‘A Potter Family member freely gives of his or her talents for the betterment of all.’ I’m eleven! What talents do I have? What can I do to make things better for everyone? ‘Use the collective wisdom of the Potter Family to remove the problem and make the path one which everyone wishes to travel.’ What collective wisdom? I have no family! My parents died when I was fifteen months old! What is the problem I have to remove? Dumbledore treats me differently than the other students, but I don’t know why. Is there something I have to do? If Mr Weasley hadn’t told me to make friends outside my House, this wouldn’t have happened. Whenever I make friends, bad things happen. Look at what happened when I began to trust Ron and the twins. They prank me. The only friend who hasn’t turned on me is Ginny. ‘Dear Potter Heir, When you find yourself on a path not of your choosing, do not question it or cry out, saying the Fates have conspired against you.’ What does that mean? Am I just supposed to accept what Dumbledore has done to me? I can’t stand this! It wasn’t Fate or anyone else. Dumbledore put me on this path through his decisions and keeping things from me. Finally, the boy felt himself calming down and the torturous thoughts left his mind. He fell into a deep sleep. Afte r the meeting of Harry’s friends broke up, Hermione and Ron went to the hospital wing to see their friend and to talk with Madame Pomfrey. When they walked into the ward, they were surprised to see Ron’s parents and sister huddled around Harry, even though they knew the headmaster was going to advise them of what happened. Ginny’s close proximity to Harry startled both Ron and Hermione, as she leaned close to the boy, whispering to him. After greetings and introductions were exchanged, Hermione went to Madame Pomfrey’s office, while Ron repeated, at his parents’ request, what he and his brothers saw when they came upon Harry and his attackers. When he finished, Ginny asked, “Harry brought back a book called Potter Philosophy. Would you check to see if you can find it in his trunk or nightstand? I know he was interested in it, so I thought I would read it to him.” Ron stared at her for a few seconds, then shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. I’ll look for it. Let Hermione know I’ll be right back.” “Sure,” Ginny said. “Thanks, Ron.” Hermione finished her discussion with Madame Pomfrey before Ron had returned, so she told the Weasleys what the nurse had agreed to. “You probably know that Harry has made a number of good friends already. We got together after we heard what happened, because everyone wanted to help in some way. Madame Pomfrey is going to let us visit beyond the normal hours, and we thought we could keep him current on what is going on at school and in his classes by talking to him and reading the assignments.” Ginny’s sour reaction was evident to her parents and Hermione, but she didn’t say anything. Molly was the first to respond. “That’s an excellent idea, Hermione. I’m sure Harry will appreciate everything you and the others are doing. We certainly do.” The door opening rather loudly diverted their attention, as a red-cheeked, puffing Ron Weasley entered the ward, carrying a very old book and looking as if he had run the entire way from Gryffindor Tower. “What did Madame Pomfrey say?” the redhead asked, as he handed the book to his sister. “She approved everything. We start tomorrow,” Hermione answered. “Good. We can tell everyone at dinner tonight.” Ron turned to his parents. “How long are you staying?” Mr and Mrs Weasley exchanged a glance, and Mr Weasley answered, “We’ll probably return home tonight. We just want to make sure Harry is stable. It’s been quite a shock.” Ginny’s cheeks instantly reddened and her mouth opened to say something, but she quickly closed it. Instead, she filled a glass with water, and with her mother’s assistance, helped Harry to drink it. “Well, I should be getting back. I still have a Transfiguration paper to do,” Ron said. “I’ll see you later.” Hermione began to say something but quickly shut her mouth and looked at the Weasley parents. “It was nice meeting all of you.” The two students returned to their dorm, while Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny continued their vigil. Ginny opened the Potter book to where a book mark had been left. The more she read, the larger her frown became. “Harry,” she whispered. “If you read the entries where the book mark is, I can see why you’d be upset. You were put on a horrible path. But you were a baby. You had nothing to do with the decision. Professor Dumbledore placed you at the Dursleys. You’re making your choices now that you know who you really are. You have been more open, and that is why people like you. Not because you’re a solution to some problem no one knows about. Just being yourself brings people to you, not declaring yourself some kind of leader. This book has some interesting ideas, but remember when these early philosophies were written. Times were very different hundreds of years ago. I really don’t think they were intended for eleven-year olds. I hope you didn’t take these the wrong way, Harry.” He finally began to close the distance between himself and the group standing in the reddish morning light. One of the members of the group, the smallest person, left the others and started walking towards him. When they finally met, she smiled and took his hand, leading him further back into the meadow, where they sat on a stone bench. Harry was surprised that it wasn’t cold when he sat down. Instead, it felt quite comfortable, and a calm feeling filled the boy for the first time he could remember. Suddenly, the girl’s head turned towards the people she had just left. Her frown turned to a scowl, and she shook her head almost violently. She turned to the boy, with the saddest expression he had ever seen, as tears rolled down her cheeks. The petite girl whispered something to him, but he couldn’t understand what she had said. She reluctantly rose from the bench, still holding his hand, until her movement away from him caused their grip to slip away. She walked back with her head hanging down, and the boy thought he saw her tears continue to fall. The boy felt cold and alone after that, worse than before the girl had joined him. He got up and started moving through the other groups, but he didn’t get the response he had with the girl, didn’t feel the same connection. He wandered back to the edge of the cliff, startled to see that the storm had dissipated and the ocean was placid. “Gi nny, time for us to be returning home,” her mum said quietly. “Harry seems to have calmed down. Madame Pomfrey will make sure he’s well taken care of, and Ron, Hermione, and the others will visit, so Harry will have lots of people watching him.” Ginny’s face had flushed. “Can’t I stay, Mum? I can sleep here. I won’t be any trouble.” Her father joined them. “We know you want to stay, Firefly. But this is a hospital. Harry will be well taken care of. We can come back to visit again, if he hasn’t already recovered. How’s that?” Ginny knew better than to argue with her parents. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that Harry would best respond to her, not Madame Pomfrey or any of his school friends. She whispered her goodbye to Harry and left the hospital with her parents. Se veral days passed with no change in Harry. He almost seemed to be adrift on a wide sea, not tethered to anyone who visited him. As promised, his friends had set up a schedule, so he had visitors most of the time. They would talk to him about what was happening in school, read assigned chapters and discuss what the professors had said in class. Some even revealed personal feelings when they were alone with him. It didn’t matter what was said or who said it, Harry Potter did not react to anyone. Through these days, Madame Pomfrey consistently kept the boy cool through constant hydration and Cooling Charms. Finally, the fever — or internal fire — broke in an explosion of sweat, then chills, which the nurse quickly calmed. A surge of positive energy went through the group of friends, as the good news reached them and they all made their way to the hospital, where they crowded around his bed. From a medical standpoint, Harry was fine, except for the one obvious fact that he was still unconscious. The initial joy over the fever breaking was rapidly replaced by confusion, as the friends, Madame Pomfrey, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and even Severus Snape struggled to come up with theories or treatments that would release the boy from whatever was holding him. Hermione remembered Harry’s comment that he sent each day’s lessons to Ginny, so she filled in during his absence and hoped her actions weren’t making the young girl feel even worse. Her worries were somewhat relieved when Ginny began to return the assignments. In reviewing them, Hermione became impressed with how quickly the young witch picked up the concepts being taught and her ability to express and apply them. Walking back from dinner with Ron, Hermione expressed her admiration of Ginny’s academics. “Ginny’s class work would be among the top in our class, I think.” Ron smiled. “She is smart, but that’s nothing compared to how she understands people. Ginny was the one to break through with Harry, when he came to stay with us. For a while, she was the only one he would talk with. They became really close.” Hermione’s eyes widened with each comment. “I’m going back to the Great Hall. I have an idea.” The bushy-haired girl raced down the corridor, followed more discretely by the redhead. Hermione burst into the nearly vacant hall and was relieved to find Professor McGonagall still seated at the head table, talking with the headmaster. Hermione skidded to a stop in front of the professors, breathing heavily. Her entrance had captured the attention of the two professors, and they waited patiently while Hermione got her breath back. Finally breathing somewhat normally, she blurted out, “I think Ginny should come back and work with Harry.” Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at her thoughtfully. Finally, the Transfiguration Professor responded, “You may have something there, Miss Granger. What makes you think Miss Weasley is the key?” “Several things, Professor. Harry wrote her every night, with news of the day and lessons from the day’s classes. That’s a lot of work for a casual relationship. Ron said Ginny was the one who broke through to Harry when he first got there and they got close during that month. Then, there just seemed to be something between them when Ron and I came into the hospital the first night. What do you think?” Professor McGonagall looked at the headmaster, then returned her gaze to her student. “I think it is worth trying. Harry has not responded to anyone else yet. I have seen him and Ginny together, and they do seem to have established a rapport. Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for creative problem solving.” Hermione smiled at her professor. “Thank you. Ron’s comments played a big part, too.” The redhead ducked his head as his cheeks took on additional colour. “I just hope Ginny can help him.” “That reflects our hopes, too, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said. “We’ll contact Mr and Mrs Weasley to see if they are amenable to having Ginny stay at school and help Harry. My compliments to both of you on coming up with a potential solution.” The two professors went to the headmaster’s office to make the Floo call to the Weasleys, while Hermione and Ron left the Great Hall and started walking back to their common room. “. . . your son, Ronald, and Miss Granger came up with the idea of bringing Ginny back so she could work with Harry. Their thought, and Minerva and I concur, is that your daughter has the strongest relationship with Harry, so she stands the best chance of pulling him out of whatever is keeping him unconscious.” Both Arthur and Molly smiled at the comments from the headmaster, whose head was engulfed in green flames in The Burrow’s fireplace. “We noticed the relationship develop during the time Harry stayed here,” Molly said. “It became obvious when they saw each other when we visited Harry’s houses,” Arthur continued. “The extent of how much they care for each other and their affection is so natural we are sure they don’t have an inkling what is developing.” “Ginny would love to help Harry return to us,” Molly said. “And we’ll do anything to help the boy. Shall we bring her down?” “Yes, please, Molly,” the headmaster replied. A minute later Ginny kneeled in front of the hearth, with her parents standing behind her. “I’d love to return to school and help Harry,” the young witch said. “Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.” “That is great news, Miss Weasley,” the headmaster said. “Why don’t you put together clothes and anything else you need for your stay? Then, you and your parents can Floo to my office. Does that sound good to everyone?” The headmaster received three enthusiastic responses. “We’ll be there soon, Albus,” Mr Weasley replied. By the time her dad had finished speaking, Ginny was already racing up the stairs to her bedroom. Half an hour later, her clothes, personal effects, and Percy’s first year books were packed, and they were ready to Floo to the headmaster’s office. Ginny bubbled with excitement when she and her parents stepped through the Floo into the headmaster’s office. “Ah, Miss Weasley, so good to see you,” the headmaster greeted her. “Molly, Arthur, thank you for letting her stay at school. We thought it would be easiest for her to stay in the ward with Harry.” Both Molly and Arthur nodded their agreement. “Does that meet your approval, Miss Weasley?” “That would be great. Thank you, Headmaster,” the small redhead replied. “Good! Shall we go to the hospital wing, then?” Dumbledore was joined by Minerva McGonagall, the two Weasley parents, and Ginny. Minutes later, they arrived at the hospital ward. Ginny had almost begun to run to Harry’s bed, when her eyes narrowed at the sight of three witches surrounding her friend. Her heart froze, as if someone had reached inside of her and stopped it from beating. She felt faint until she realized she’d been holding her breath. Several deep breaths stopped the room from spinning. Ginny reminded herself that Harry had made lots of friends and that these three were probably part of his group. She also focused on the reality of why she was there. None of his new friends had been able to help him out of wherever he was hiding. She placed her bag on the bed next to Harry’s and walked towards her friend. Minerva McGonagall had been observing Ginny’s reactions from the time they had entered the ward. “Miss Weasley, let me introduce you.” The three students stood up, while Ginny stopped at the end of the bed. “This is Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, and Hannah Abbott.” The professor pointed out each witch in turn. “This is Ginny Weasley, Ron’s sister, and Harry’s friend.” Ginny smiled to herself at the professor’s introduction. Daphne nodded her head towards the smaller witch, a pleasant expression on her face. “Hi Ginny. Hermione told us you were coming. We,” she gestured at the other two girls, “hope that you can pull Harry out of whatever this is.” She shook her head. “It’s been very frustrating.” Myriad thoughts pinged through Ginny’s mind. ‘She’s so pretty. But she seems really nice. Most important, she cares about Harry.’ Ginny returned Daphne’s smile. “Hi Daphne. I hope I can do something.” She tilted her head in thought. “What have you been doing when you visited Harry?” Tracey responded, “We’ve read assignments to him, talked about what’s going on in class and in general, just kind of visited.” The blonde girl, Hannah, asked, “What do you plan to do?” “A lot of what you did, but I’ll also remind Harry of stuff we did when he stayed with us the last month of summer, and I brought some books he likes.” Hannah nodded. “Those are good ideas. I still can’t believe Malfoy and those others would attack Harry like that.” Ginny’s forehead furrowed. “Has Harry been hot since you guy’s started visiting?” The three first year witches looked at each other, their eyes wide to keep from snickering. Finally Tracey said, “Nah, Harry’s been hot since he first arrived at Hogwarts.” Ginny’s eyes widened, then the four girls started laughing loudly. When they calmed down, Tracey grinned. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Daphne said, “We’re glad you’re here, Ginny. We miss our friend.” Hannah added, “Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help you.” Ginny looked at the girls in surprise. “I, uh, thought you wouldn’t want me here.” All three witches shook their heads, and Tracey responded, “Hermione and Ron let us know how close you and Harry had gotten during the summer.” Tracey smiled at the younger girl. “Harry just thinks of us as friends.” Ginny looked at each of the girls. “Thanks. I was worried, you know? You’re still going to visit, right?” The three girls enthusiastically nodded their heads, and Daphne said, “I guess we should go and let you get to work on that boy.” “See you soon,” Ginny replied. “Thank you for watching over Harry.” Ginny jumped when she heard her mum’s voice, having forgotten the headmaster and her parents had been standing behind her. With a chorus of goodbyes and well wishes, the girls left. Ginny shook her head. “They’re so nice. I thought they’d be rude or resent me, coming to their school.” “Miss Weasley, you’ll find that all of the students Harry has befriended are quite nice,” the headmaster advised. “He seems to have a knack of finding very good friends. They made up a schedule so Harry would not be alone for long periods. As Miss Davis told you, they have been trying to keep him current on his schoolwork and just chatting. Like you, they made the assumption that if Harry could hear them, they would put the time to good use.” Harry moved deeper into the cave’s shadows, when he heard several people talking outside. ‘There’s no telling what they might do, if they find me in here.’ As soon as the people moved on, the boy pressed further into the darkness, thankful for the coolness, the silence, and the safety it offered. He leaned back against the rough stone wall and breathed deeply, trying to block any thoughts from entering his mind. He stayed that way for quite awhile, letting the lack of any outside stimulus lull him into a state of inertia. Adrenaline shot through the boy, when he heard movement behind him, from the back of the cave. He tried to shrink further into the shadows. His anger flared, and he briefly considered racing out of the cave when he saw who it was. “Harry, don’t run away,” his father advised. “We’ll stop you if you try.” “And we can block a Banishing spell,” his mum said. She kneeled about a metre from her son. “The attack shocked you, didn’t it Harry?” As soon as he heard his mother’s question, the boy’s insides caved and tears sprang from his eyes. Seconds later, Harry launched himself into his mother’s open arms, feeling as if every emotion he had was pouring out of him. He could feel her arms encircle him, pulling him close and creating a safe haven. Another hand squeezed his shoulder, then rested reassuringly there. The boy’s breathing came in shuddering, erratic gasps, as the emotional poison was ejected from his system. Finally, his breathing became deeper and more regular, as he luxuriated in his mother’s embrace. Feeling much calmer, the boy stepped back and looked at his parents. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. The attack did shock me. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I know you did everything you could.” His mum drew him back into another hug. “We understood what you were feeling, Harry, how frustrated you were. Don’t worry about it.” “There’s an important point we need to show you, son,” his dad explained. “That’s why we’re here.” Harry looked at him curiously. “What?” “What happened comes down to one person — Draco Malfoy,” James Potter answered. “He basically threatened the other four into helping him. Everyone else in school — from the headmaster to your first year friends — is on your side. They want you to come back to them, not to be a leader, not to make sweeping changes, but just to be their friend again.” His mum added, “We can show you parts of some of the visits if you want.” Harry thought about his mum’s offer for a few moments. “That would be great.” The cave dissolved, and Harry found himself watching Daphne and Tracey sitting on the sides of his hospital bed, each holding his hand. Daphne said, “Everyone in school is pulling for you, Harry.” “It’s not the same without you,” Tracey added. They were replaced by Anthony Goldstein. “Harry, you’ve got to wake up, so we can duel some more in DADA. I think I may have a chance against you now. C’mon, buddy.” Ron’s eyes darted around the ward, then he quickly brushed away several tears. “I should have been with you. I made a promise, then I didn’t keep it. That’ll never happen again, Harry.” Harry felt his breath hitch, but his mum quickly began rubbing his back to calm him. Hermione held his hand in both of hers. “I’ve been researching to try to find what’s happening with you, but no success yet. Madame Pomfrey is, too. We miss you, Harry.” “Lad, Mrs Weasley and I have to return to The Burrow, but Ginny will stay here as long as it takes to bring you back. It was a dastardly trick the Malfoy boy played on you. But, Harry, you can overcome this. We all have faith in you, son.” Tears welled in Harry’s eyes from Mr Weasley’s comments, but he tried to hide them from his parents, thinking they would be disappointed or hurt. He felt both parents move closer to him. “Harry,” his dad said. “We would have picked the Weasleys for you to stay with had we known what was going to happen.” “So, it’s alright for Arthur to call you ‘son,’ Lily Potter said softly. “We know our place in your heart and don’t feel you caring for them diminishes what we had with you.” Harry’s eyes moved between his mum and dad. “Really?” “Really and truly, son,” his dad said. “We’ll always be a part of you, Harry,” his mum whispered. “Don’t let any concerns about that stop you from letting other people into your life.” His dad waited a few seconds before saying, “One last visit to show what your mum just said.” Ginny sat on the side of his bed, holding his hand in one of hers, and stroking his cheek with the other. Tears slowly trailed down her cheeks. “Did you know I felt it when you got cursed?” the petite redhead whispered to the unmoving boy. “There were two shocks, which were the stunners, I guess. Then, I felt like my insides were on fire. But, Harry, somehow I knew you had got hurt, that it wasn’t something wrong with me. I told my parents, and Dad fire called Professor Dumbledore. I wanted to Bat Bogey Hex my brothers, but they are so down I couldn’t. They feel like they failed you. “I’ve been here a couple of days now, and your friends have continued to visit. I can’t believe how nice they are. I thought they wouldn’t like me or they’d be mean, because I’m younger and they don’t know me. But it’s been the opposite. All of your friends have been great. “I hope you can hear us, because they’ve been giving you your lessons each day, even your professors have been by several times, just to check on you. Anyhow, they’ve included me in the lessons, so it’s like I’m a student here. I’ve continued doing the homework and essays and everything and Hermione or Padma check them for me. “There’s only one thing wrong, Harry. You’re not here. Everyone misses you. Please don’t be too much longer.” Ginny moved her hand from his cheek, kissed her fingertips, and lightly placed her hand on Harry’s heart. “Come back to me, Harry,” she whispered. “I can’t lose my best friend.” The scene dissolved, and Harry found himself back in the cave with his parents. He took several deep breaths to calm down. “That was kind of overwhelming.” His father smiled. “And that was just a sampling. You’ve affected a lot of people, son. You were doing the right thing, including defending Hermione. That witch is scarily smart.” James looked at his wife. “Like another Muggle-born witch I know.” Harry looked at his parents and found both were smiling. His mum turned to him, still smiling. “Are you ready to leave the cave now?” Harry took a step back. The cave is safe and quiet. But there are no friends, no flying, no books . . . The boy looked up and exhaled deeply. “Yeah, I think I am.” Both of his parents smiled at him. His mum explained, “You won’t return immediately. You will still have a little more time, but you’ll know when it’s right.” “Harry, we’re very proud of you and the decision you’ve made,” James Potter said. “We’ll see you again, son.” He pulled the boy close in a hug and ruffled his hair. When he stepped back, his wife took his place. “It was so good to see you, Harry,” his mum whispered, as she released her hug. As Harry began to walk towards the opening of the cave, she added, “We’ll always be with you, son.” Harry looked back and saw his parents dissolve into nothing. He took a deep breath and turned towards the light. Walking out of his hiding place, Harry saw the vague outlines of a castle in the distance, with lots of people and activity around it. He started walking in that direction. Ginny pulled one of the King Arthur books from the adjacent bed stand and began to read the first chapter to her friend. The chapter provided an overview of Arthur’s life, from the time Merlin moved him from his royal family and placed him with one where he would be judged on his own merits, not some title, and ending with his ascension to King. Ginny’s words, for the first time, broke through the fog that had enshrouded Harry’s brain, and he began to listen eagerly to his favourite tale, even though he was still comatose. As a younger child, Harry had derived solace from Arthur overcoming his challenging early life and rising to the highest position in the land. He also envied Arthur a bit, because the young lad had Merlin advising him even during the early stages of his life, whereas Harry had no one. The boy wondered if Albus Dumbledore would ever be his Merlin but gave it up as too fanciful a thought. I’m not destined for anything great, like Arthur. I’m not the son of a royal family.But the boy’s thought turned to the Potter Philosophy book, and he wondered if it were more than mere chance that Ginny had selected that book out of the thousands in the manor’s library. What if I am destined to do great things? A chill went down the boy’s spine as he recalled that Mr Ollivander had said exactly that when he had bought his wand. Ginny continued reading the Arthurian legend to Harry, marvelling at how Arthur had united various parts of England that had previously operated independently of each other. Most of the time, he had negotiated with these separate factions to bring them into a stronger body. But occasionally, Arthur would be forced to use his sword to persuade a stubborn leader. Of course, Ginny smiled to herself, the sword was Excalibur. Best of all for the young witch was the marriage of Arthur and Guinevere. While not widely known, Ginny’s given name was really Ginevra, which in French translated to Guinevere. The redhead whispered that little known fact to her sleeping friend, confident he would not recall it when he woke up. Despite his body’s continued refusal to wake up, Harry’s brain felt refreshed and energized. He laughed to himself at the odd coincidence of Ginny’s translated name being the same as Arthur’s Queen. That thought led him to others. Maybe the philosophies in the Potter book aren’t burdens. Maybe doing the right thing is what they’re talking about. Arthur never looked at his future and what he had to do as burdens. It didn’t limit him to a single path. Ginny just read that he used a number of different approaches, depending on who he was talking with and the topic. So, I don’t have to be limited. I can do what I think is best. Arthur’s uniting parts of England is kind of like my wanting to bring the Houses together. In both, they had been operating separately for a long time. In some cases, he had to overcome opposition, even though it was in their best interest. That fits Slytherin, except for Daphne and Tracey. Wizards don’t seem to like goblins and they ignore house elves. Maybe they’re part of this, too. I don’t think Arthur ever felt he was a solution to anything. I sure don’t like thinking like that. It’s arrogant. But he knew what he wanted to do and wasn’t afraid to work hard to achieve it, even if it was dangerous. That’s what I want to do, too. Harry’s mind finally slowed down, and he could feel himself floating into a very relaxed state. “How is he doing?” Hermione asked, while Ron looked closely at his roommate. “No change, really, though I thought I got some reaction when I was reading King Arthur to him.” Hermione’s eyes widened at Ginny’s answer. “What kind of reaction?” “Nothing physical. He didn’t move or anything,” Ginny replied. “It was more like he was moving closer to the surface. Does that make any sense?” Hermione nodded energetically. “It does. His mind could be waking up, but he needs his body to catch up.” Ginny grinned. “That’s what it was like.” “Well, that’s good news. How are you holding up?” “Oh, I’m doing fine. I just want him back,” Ginny replied. “We all do,” her brother said quietly. “We should be leaving,” Hermione said. “It’s almost curfew.” “Thanks for coming by.” “We’ll see you tomorrow, Ginny.” Once Hermione and Ron had departed, the redheaded witch looked through the stack of books on the bed table and selected one on the History of Magic. After about thirty minutes, she succumbed to boredom and put the book down. Gathering up her pyjamas and other things, she went into the loo and prepared for bed. Ten minutes later, she was fast asleep in the bed next to her friend’s. Several hours later, the door squeaking woke her up. Something told her to continue acting like she was asleep. A dark shadow moved stealthily down the aisle between the two rows of beds. Ginny’s fingers tightened around her wand that was hidden under her pillow, even though she hadn’t seen the man holding one. The shadows made it difficult to see who the person was, but Ginny did notice he had dark hair that hung like curtains on either side of a face that featured a long hooked nose. As the man passed her bed, she noticed he had on billowing black robes, and it appeared everything else he wore also was black. Ginny frowned in anger, because she could no longer see the visitor. She heard him stop, then approach Harry on the far side of his bed. Ginny was strongly tempted to turn over, but she knew any such movement would call attention to herself and maybe cause the visitor to leave quickly. A moment later, the man began to whisper, and Ginny realized from the twins mimicking his highly distinctive voice the visitor must be Professor Snape, the Potions Master. “Potter, what are we going to do with you? Malfoy’s attempt was pathetic, but it appears your shield made it much worse than it would have been otherwise. Typical Gryffindor; typical Potter. You know you’re no good to anyone lying around like this. Worse yet, Dumbledore has been watching me like a hawk, and that is . . . irritating. Did you know that the headmaster has not decided what to do with the five students who attacked you? I think he’s waiting to see if any permanent damage was done before announcing the punishment. “I’m trying to help Madame Pomfrey find an antidote, but we’re both stymied since neither of us has seen this before. Ironically, your mother was the only student in school who was close to me in Potions ability. I bet she would love to come back to work on a solution. Just like your Miss Granger in that regard. “Mr Potter, you can’t let Malfoy, that pathetic excuse for a wizard, bring you down. Besides, I wouldn’t get full satisfaction if we beat Gryffindor in Quidditch if you weren’t playing. Time to wake up, Potter. I owe too many people to lose you this quickly.” Snape left as quietly as he had arrived, seemingly blending into the shadows as he left the hospital ward. Ginny kept repeating the monologue in her mind. As soon as the door closed, she silently got out of bed, grabbed some parchment and a quill, and went into the loo, where she wrote down everything she could remember from Snape’s unusual comments. Returning to bed with her notes, Ginny tossed and turned the rest of the night. Harry left the darkness of the cave and began walking towards the castle in the distance. The sun was emerging from behind the mountains that surrounded the castle, putting part of the structure in light, the rest in shadow. The boy’s body felt rested and mentally he felt at peace with himself after his conversation with his parents. Crowds of people moved around the outside of the castle, but he was still too far away to see any individual faces. Finally, he approached the castle, not knowing who or what he would find there. Some people smiled in welcome, others frowned and pointed, then would whisper to their neighbours. Harry looked around at the faces, startled by the differing reactions, especially since he had seen no one he recognized. Why would they know who I am and react so strongly? Soon, Harry stood on the stairs to the castle. An uncomfortable feeling swept through him, as he felt himself being pulled in different directions. The warm feelings brought on by his parents turned cold, and his calm demeanour twisted into suspicion. The boy stood unmoving on the stairs, feeling empty inside. Sun light flooded through the hospital windows the next morning, but it wasn’t the light that woke the young witch. Instead, she sat upright as if jolted by an electrical current when she heard a hoarse, cracking voice ask a question. “G . . . Ginny?” |
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