Love was an exquisite sort of pain, Harry decided as he lay by her. How else could he explain the feeling he had? The intense joy went beyond the border of simple happiness into something that was almost more than he could bear.
He reached over and gently ran his fingers through her hair as it lay spread around her sleeping face. She gave a soft sigh when he reached a tangle, and he delicately unraveled it so he wouldn’t wake her. He loved watching her sleep.
She had this habit of softly moving her lips when she dreamed, and her eyelids fluttered just a bit. Her breathing was soft and slow, and he felt drowsy as he listened to it. He lay his head on her and closed his eyes breathing in her scent. She was everything he’d wished for, everything he needed.
He had no idea that in a little over seventy-two hours, it would all be taken from him.
The next morning, he got up early, kissed her cheek, promised her he would be back soon, and left. He had an appointment to see Dumbledore, but he hoped to be back in time for lunch.
The morning air was brisk, and he mounted his broom, looking up at the clear pink-tinged sky, swirled his invisibility cloak over himself, and kicked off. Flying was still one of his favorite pass-times. Even though he hadn’t played Quidditch in a while, he tried to keep his skills intact. They were useful in battle.
Harry had seen many battles in the time that had passed since he had left Hogwarts. He couldn’t believe it had been only a few months since what would have been his seventh and final year was over. So much had happened.
Dumbledore had wanted him to stay in school, and Harry could appreciate that. But he couldn’t stand by and watch his friends get hurt. Hermione had been targeted more than once, and all the Weasleys were in danger as well. He realized that he couldn’t go on as normal during his sixth year.
Sometimes, Harry regretted his actions during that year, and sometimes he was indifferent towards them. He never lost the perspective that he was in a war. People were suffering and dying. Sirius’ death had driven that point home, and it had taken him the better part of that next year to get over it, if you could call the dull aching acceptance being over it.
Harry had finally convinced Dumbledore of the danger, and had earned his grudgingly given acceptance to the prospect of Harry leaving school. He even become a full-fledged member of Dumbledore’s Order of the Phoenix when he had managed to destroy three Death-Eaters this past year, saving multiple people, and the village of Hogsmeade from their plots of terrorism.
The stars were fading, and the sunrise was getting brighter as Harry landed outside the forbidding Hogwarts gates. He walked slowly through aware of the new security measures that were surrounding the castle for student safety. The boars on top of the pedestals spoke daily with Dumbledore, and only approved visitors were allowed through. All others were paralyzed, and if not cleared from the snare, beheaded. They were not to be fooled with costume, invisibility, nor polyjuice potion, and they covered the air around the gate as well as the ground.
Harry wasn’t sure how much of these precautions were Dumbledore’s ideas, or the school board’s, but parents were anxious to send their children to Hogwarts as it was considered the safest place in Britain, if not the world, now that Voldemort was more powerful than the Ministry.
Dumbledore had continued Harry’s training in earnest. And the secret of the prophecy remained just that, secret. Hermione had come close to guessing, and he had almost blurted it out to her and Ron when they were trying so desperately to help him with his trials. But he recognized the necessity of keeping this secret. They would only worry. And the pressure on him would be greater. He didn’t know if he could stand watching Hermione’s eyes widen in horror as she grasped what he told them, or Ron’s stuttering as he tried to find a way out of it, or around it, for Harry.
Harry had come to terms with it. He had to destroy Voldemort, and he alone could do it. He had learned to take smarter risks, and completed his Occlumency training in earnest. He dueled with Dumbledore on occasion, and he realized that although Dumbledore was getting older, he was also very powerful, and he was having a harder time keeping up with Harry.
He suspected that was one of Dumbledore’s reasons for seeing him this morning. He was always stronger in the mornings, and Harry had come prepared for another battle practice.
The Great Hall was decorated in beginning of the year felicity, with all the different house colors occupying their own corners. Harry glanced around, and stowed his broom in the closet reserved for visitors, before striding towards the staircase. Start of term was yesterday, so he’d expected to have to wade through a crowd to get to Dumbldore’s office, but he met no one as he passed through the proper halls and staircases.
He was nearing Dumbledore’s office when he suddenly realized he could be walking into a trap. There should have been people around. He’d met no one, not even a guard at the door. He tensed, and reached into his robes to pull out his wand.
Before his wand was free however, a stunning spell came ricocheting towards him, and missed by inches. He felt his hair stand on end as he dropped to the floor and rolled to the wall.
He yanked his wand out and peered down the corridor, then glanced backwards to make sure he was safe from behind. The passages remained deserted.
He slowly inched forward on his belly, wand at the ready, and listening intently. Silence met his ears, and then suddenly shouting rang out, echoing from where he was heading. He leapt to a crouch, and started moving faster, careful to keep well below his normal head level.
An intersection was coming up, and Harry jumped to the opposite side of the wall before cautiously peering around. There were six people there engaged in some sort of eerie struggle. Harry quickly pulled his head back around and considered. He wasn’t sure if they were enemy or friend, but in order to find out, he would lose the element of surprise.
Weighing his options quickly he decided to move on the side of caution, so he jumped to his feet, and sent a couple of light stunners, and a disarming spell towards them while shouting, “Identify yourselves immediately!”
Two of the students fell over immediately hit squarely by Harry’s stunners. The rest ducked and started babbling about chocolate frogs as their wands flew in a neat arc towards Harry who caught them with his free hand.
Harry narrowed his eyes and peered closely at the obviously frightened students. This didn’t look to be a trap. Had he really just stunned two students and scared the rest of them into incoherence?
A silky voice coming from the other direction confirmed his fear.
“Well done, Potter. You have just managed to pass by the wizard who tried to stun you and instead attack six of our new students. Dumbledore places entirely too much faith in your skills. I would expect any rookie to be able to recognize this obstacle.”
Harry turned to face Snape, letting his wand fall by his side, though his grip tightened around it in his fury. His old potions teacher could always bring that certain anger that festered and bubbled up inside him. The one thing he’d been looking forward to when he quit school was no longer being under Snape’s thumb. However, Dumbledore had insisted that Harry could profit from Snape’s tutelage, and they had trained together occasionally ever since.
Snape was now gliding down the hall with his long and determined stride. Before he reached the students, Harry turned, revived the two stunned students and handed back all their wands. They remained there staring wide-eyed at Harry, as Snape continued his tirade.
“It would be too much to ask of you, I suppose Potter, to come and participate in your training without trying to recruit yet another fan group? Or were you simply choosing an enemy that you thought your puny skills could defeat?”
Harry bristled, but kept his cool brushing his hair out of his eyes, and saying, “Where is Dumbledore? I was under the impression he wanted to speak with me, not put me through an obstacle course.”
“Are you…you’re really…Harry Potter?”
One of the students had regained his power of speech, and Harry rolled his eyes briefly to the ceiling before muttering, “Don’t you have to run to class?”
Snape stiffened as they all gathered around Harry and the babbling turned from frightened protests to eager questions.
Harry gritted his teeth, and snapped at them, “Get to class, all of you. Or I’ll stun you again and leave you there. I have other things to attend to.”
They all gave a startled yelp, and scattered.
Snape was studying Harry with his eyes narrowed and his lip curled. This didn’t have quite the impact on him that it used to however, he was totally indifferent to Snape’s unexplained animosity towards him by now.
“This way, Potter.” He finally said.
Harry followed him down the hallway and the familiar griffin statue came into view. He stood silent while Snape once again studied him for a minute before speaking the password and stepping aside, allowing him to enter.
Harry’s heart beat a bit faster as he rode the staircase upwards. Snape was one thing, but disappointing Dumbledore was something else. His feelings for his old Headmaster had been up and down ever since fifth year. Harry had always seen him as powerful and wise. He now had tempered that view with the realization that he was also human, and made mistakes. But he understood that underneath it all, Dumbledore’s plans had only fallen apart when he had allowed himself to love and care for Harry as a person, rather than a means to an end.
That gave him a new appreciation for Dumbledore, as Harry had known very few people in his life that loved him for who he was, and not just what he stood for.
Dumbledore had helped him to find and rent a small apartment in Hogsmeade to stay in while he was training. Its proximity to Hogwarts was convenient for them both. Dumbledore was able to continue to watch over and train Harry, and Harry was able to be close to his friends, while not compromising their safety.
He was still worried about them, but they had become adults in the magical society, and they could take care of themselves. Ron had gone into the Ministry to work against Voldemort in politics. He had been hoping to become an auror, but he hadn’t passed the temperament test. Ron, Harry knew, was extremely loyal, and he would want him by his side in any fight. But he did have a short fuse, and he tended to stun first, ask questions later. Much as he had this morning, Harry thought guiltily picturing the two stunned students lying on the floor.
Hermione on the other hand, Harry thought, had a cooler rationale about her. She could have passed the auror temperament test with flying colors. She could pass any test with flying colors. She balanced Ron’s temper with her patience, and logic.
Harry often felt that they were on two opposite sides of a see saw, and he was positioned in the middle, right above the pivot point. Each would then influence him with their argument, and he would rock up and down, back and forth while they argued it out around him. If he didn’t act on his own, they would be stuck there forever in perfect equilibrium, never achieving anything.
Dumbledore’s door came into view, and he smoothed the front of his robes quickly before knocking rapidly on the wood.
“Come in, Harry,” an old voice beckoned.
He opened the door and stepped through, stopping in surprise at the scene inside. He had expected to see Dumbledore, but not all the others. Lupin, Madam Pomfrey, Mad Eye Moody, and Arthur Weasley stood around Dumbledore’s desk. They didn’t look as though they’d been talking, and he hadn’t heard any voices as he was coming up, but there was a tense static in the air as though an argument had been paused when interrupted with his presence.
“H..Hullo.” Harry cringed a bit at his stuttering. He couldn’t quite get over this sense of inferiority around the other members of the Order. Technically, he'd done as much as some of the older recruits, and even more than some of the newer ones, but he still felt really young around them.
“Good morning, Harry.” Lupin smiled. “How are you feeling today?”
Madam Pomfrey tsked at his question and waved her hand towards Harry as she blurted out, “How do you think the boy is feeling, Lupin?” Everyone’s eyes darted around at each other as she continued, “Coming here to let you put an experimental spell on him so he can go out and face You-Know-Who, not knowing if it would even work, and only able to hope that…”
“Poppy.” Dumbledore cut her off.
Harry looked intensely at Dumbledore. “What spell, Professor?” he asked.
Arthur Weasley shifted uncomfortably, and Lupin coughed slightly silencing him. Moody merely sniffed and continued his scrutiny of Harry.
Dumbledore walked around from behind his desk and said, “Quite simply, Harry, we’ve come up with an idea.” He reached over and stroked Fawkes’ brilliant red head, and continued. “I have made a life-long study of the Phoenix, as has Professor Dalton.” He gestured towards an obscure lump of Moody’s robes, and Harry noticed for the first time it was actually an old wizard crouched between Moody and Mr. Weasley.
He was tiny and stooped, with white hair and small round glasses that reminded Harry of Mr. Crouch’s. But he had a warm and smiling face under his intelligence, where Crouch had been more distant and cool.
“Pleased to meet you,” Harry said politely extending his hand.
Moody slapped it away immediately growling, “Foolish boy, you don’t know that he’s safe! What if he were an enemy?”
Harry rubbed his stinging skin replying, “He’s with you! I doubt that Dumbledore would…”
Dumbledore interrupted again, “There’s no time for that now, Alastor. We have to try this immediately.”
Harry looked at Dumbledore, but before he could speak the question, Dumbledore held up his hand. “I have to ask you to trust me, Harry. We have developed a spell, with the help of Professor Dalton and his assistant that would be of great advantage to you in battle. We’re not sure exactly how it would work, or if there are any side-effects, as we haven’t had time to properly test it in every possible way. However, we are convinced of its safety, and its beneficial qualities enough to risk casting it, if you’re willing.”
Harry felt a brief moment of doubt flicker through his eyes and Dumbledore lowered his voice gently saying, “Time is short, Harry. We want you to win unconditionally.” He grasped Harry’s shoulder and squeezed it softly. Harry gave a brief nod of agreement, and the room galvanized into action.
Madam Pomfrey, her tightly closed lips reminiscent of McGonagall, quickly stripped him of all but his last layer of clothing and lay him on a table that she conjured up. Lupin and Mr. Weasley brought out a potion and gave Harry a carefully measured amount to drink. Moody was standing over him and conjured ropes that strapped him to the table as soon as the potion was down. Dumbledore and Professor Dalton were speaking quietly together and then they came and stood with their wands out over him.
His heart beat just a little faster for a moment, and Madam Pomfrey said, “Oh dear, we can’t have that.” She cast a soothing charm on him and he relaxed into the cool table and watched calmly as the wands were raised and a bright red and gold light burst forth covering him and swelling to almost fill the room, forcing the others to back away, and Harry to close his eyes against the bright glare.
He felt warm, incredibly warm, and thought he were going to burst into flame before the heat faded to a small red hot spot that settled in his chest. He felt it there, but it seemed to grow a coat so that the heat wasn’t painful, but simply became a part of him.
He became conscious of all his muscles tensing, his body was arching, and straining against the ropes that held him to the table. He tried to force them into relaxing, and finally gained a bit of control over his arms, but the force required to keep them by his side was more than he could give continuously, and he soon looked as though he were convulsing with the effort to keep them from shooting out. He gave up, and slowly opened his eyes which had been screwed shut with his former exertion.
His vision was tinged red, and gold sparks were shooting around at the edges of his perception, but they too faded until he was able to glance around the room and see it normally. He felt his body relax then, and he flexed his fingers and his toes. Everything seemed to be in working order.
He opened his mouth, as a single note of music filled the room. Harry looked over at Fawkes, and saw him singing. The phoenix song had always given him courage and strength, but this time the effect was exaggerated and he felt his spirits lift so high that he felt he were going to burst out of his body and rise on the notes to wherever they faded to. But the song ended, and faded on its own.
Harry lay there, still bound, and started to shiver slightly against the cold metal of the table underneath him.
“It’s done.” Dumbledore said faintly, shrewdly observing Harry as he came closer.
“This is remarkable!” Professor Dalton trilled. “We should test it!”
“No!” barked Lupin. “Why take that chance now? We’re not even sure.”
“But..we don’t want to make the first test in battle!” he squeaked nervously. “We should…”
Professor Dumbledore cut him off again, “No. Lupin is right. This is only a back-up precaution. We shall continue to hope that it will not be needed at all, and trust for the best.”
Moody released Harry from the ropes, and Madam Pomfrey quickly clothed him, handing him a warm blanket. “I would give you a small Pepper-Up, dear, but under the circumstances…” She trailed off under Mr. Weasley’s glare.
Lupin came over and took Harry’s hand between his own squeezing gently and asked, “You’re all right, Harry?”
Arthur Weasley came over and grasped Harry’s shoulder. “Of course he is,” he said protectively. “Boy’s made out of stronger stuff than that!” But Harry noticed that his face was pale, and his fingers trembled ever so slightly.
“I’m fine,” he announced to the room. “Whatever the spell was, it didn’t hurt me at all.” He was conscious of the small hot spot residing within his breast still, but he took out his wand and shot several gold and red sparks out of it to prove his health.
Moody slowly got up from where he had dived to the floor when Harry had pulled his wand out. “You’re lucky boy. I might have taken you out, if we weren’t acquainted.” No one paid much attention to this declaration though, as they were all familiar with Moody’s extreme caution that bordered on paranoia.
“Is anyone going to tell me what just happened?” Harry asked, rubbing his wrists where the ropes had cut into his skin during his struggle. “Or is this going to be yet another mystery in my life?”
“It’s better if you don’t know,” squeaked Professor Dalton. “Otherwise it could cause premature action, and that might prove fatal. Of course, we don’t know for sure, its just that in the tests, our previous subjects displayed tendencies to become careless, and irresponsible which invariably led to primitive engagement, and that could injure more than aid.”
“Harry, you need to run down to your training now,” Dumbledore suggested. “A
mystery it might remain, but do not wish for its application. We continue to hope
that it will remain an unnecessary caution.”
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