Chapter Ten

Revelations

"AVADA KEDAVRA."

It wasn't a shout or scream. The killing curse was muttered in such an indifferent way that concealed all the underlying hatred and anguish. For a moment, Harry Potter was gone, replaced by an entity drenched in pure power, mastered by a single impulse – to kill. His existence had no judgment, no conscience, nothing to provoke an impression of a human being. Harry Potter was gone. What took his place was but a simple container of the vast and unimaginable power of Mind Magic. The power based on emotions. The powers initiated from the subconscious mind.

The blue mist surrounding Harry shimmered and shrank, following a path from his heart via his right arm to his wand. The glowing blue mist squeezed itself into the narrow confinement of the thin wooden stick, reappearing from the other end, filtered sparkling green that matched the glow in Harry's eyes.

"AVADA KEDAVRA."

The spell hit the Giant straight on the chest. Rather than shooting out in a jet, the killing curse linked with its source of power and poured into the Giant continually, draining its life for what seemed to be aneternity. The dragon skin still clung onto its master's body, burning with agreen fire, struggling to fend off the unstoppable curse. The Giant stared around franticly for a moment, feeling death creeping up his spine. The Spell broke, he died.

Harry watched the giant with fascination. For a moment, he struggled to find his mind, to comprehend what he had just done. Then thoughts crashed into him, light turnedto dark, and he collapsed.

The Great Hall was silent. For a moment everyone looked at everyone, lost in surprise, breathing the scent of death. Harry Potter hadobviously performed the killing spell and finished off the last giant. In fact, Harry Potter took down two giants own his own. That's all they've realized. That's as far as their understanding reached. Then a buzz of talks begun. Friends embraced friends; lovers clung together like moths. Finally, people stepped up and surrounded the unconscious forms of Harry and Ginny.

Professor Dumbledore was kneeling over Ginny.

"She's alive, only unconscious," he whispered in relief and levitated her to a stretcher. On his other side, Ron collapsed on to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Dumbledore then crawled towards Harry in a very undignified way. He checked the pulse, fumbled with his eyelids and finally raised his head to the tear-stained face of Silvia.

"He's alright," he whispered, slightly in awe. "Pure exhaustion. No wonder, with power strong enough to disrupt Hogwarts' magical field flowing through his body."

Silvia sighed tearfully and put Harry into a stretcher next to Ginny's. With a wave of her hand, the stretchers floated towards the infirmary.

Harry heard subdued voices. He identified one clearly as Madam Pomfrey - he must be in the hospital wing then. He strained to distinguish the other voices; the anxious-sounding whisper seemed to be Silvia's, a soft voice that belongs to Dumbledore. There was a curtain pulled around his bed and he could hear muffled conversations, followed by footsteps clinking on the tiled floor. He tried to lift up the sheet above him and shift his legs, but his leg felt like it weighted a ton. Every single fiber in his body strained in pain with the slightest movement. The hospital smock that had been put on him felt like full body armor. He tried to pull it away from his neck, but it still felt constrictive. He inched it up his body, then grimaced as he collapsed again.

He put his hand on his sternum, feeling the quartz necklace. Ginny, he thought suddenly. Was she really dead? He didn't know, nor did he want to know. A part of his soul was wretched from him when he saw Ginny being knocked down. If Harry had been more observant and understanding of his own emotions, he would have realized why he cared about Ginny so much. But the only thought filling his brain at the moment was that Voldemort has taken away yet again another person Harry cared about from him. He felt his eyes prickle. Footsteps returned and he heard to door to the infirmary opening and closing, followed by Madam Pomfrey's office door. The lights in the infirmary were extinguished and he was submerged once again in darkness.

Harry lay there for what he felt like an eternity. His mind was blissfully blank as he stared into the darkness, then he felt something: another presence in the room, another person breathing. Someone else in the infirmary, he thought absently. Harry didn't remember seeing anyone gravely injured in the Great Hall. Most people got cuts and scratches, maybe broken legs - nothing that couldn't be fixed with a swish of wand.

But the person moved. He realized. The person was on the floor, walking purposefully in silent, careful steps. Walking towards his direction.

Harry tensed. After what happened on September the first, it could be anyone. He struggled to pull aside the curtain, but his arm was too heavy. He heard quiet, rushed breathings outside the curtains; he heard the slightest flutter as his curtain was pulled open in cautious slow motion. He turned his head painfully towards the source of moonlight on the curtains, and then his vision was blurred by a shadow.

"Oh, Harry, you had us all so worried!" the person exclaimed, bending towards him. Harry felt a rush of warmth, the familiar scent of lily.

"Ginny? You're alive?" he jerked up in surprise and fell back to his bed painfully. He twisted his neck, devouring the sight of her bathed in moonlight.

"Of course I'm alive," she whispered above his face, staring into his eyes with barely concealed affection and relief. "That helmet's not going to kill me, it's not much worse than a Bludger from Fred. I'm getting out of here tomorrow. But you, you had us all scared. Even Dumbledore was afraid that you won't make it."

Her voice trembled in relief. Suddenly she yawned and stretched her arms. Harry couldn't help but notice the interesting way her hospital smock twisted and the fact that it was very thin. He was glad that Ginny didn't catch him looking.

"So how long was I out?" he asked mock-casually.

"Four days," Ginny sat on the small space between his stomach and the edge of the bed, hugging her knees close. "We're not going to have any lessons this week. We all need some rest. And the Great Hall needs to be fixed. It's smashed to bits. They're having their meals in the house common rooms for now."

She stared into space for a moment, resting her chin on her knee. After a moment, she looked down at Harry again.

"Hermione told me what happened," she said simply. "She said that you used the killing curse after I passed out. But although Hermione is about the smartest witch Hogwarts has seen this century, there are things she doesn't know about."

She looked at Harry intently.

"For one, she doesn't know that there aren't many sixteen-year-olds who can use the Avada Kedavra, let along killing a giant wearing dragon skin. Nor does she know that the killing curse is a bolt of green light, not a light chain. I know these things because I was told by the expert. In fact, I wasn't just told. Tom Riddle showed it to me during my first year, when I had the diary. He taught me how to do it."

Harry opened his mouth and closed it. This was the first time Ginny talked in detail about what it felt like to be possessed. Ginny continued to hold his gaze with a pleading expression in her eyes.

"You've been different, Harry. So could you please tell me what's going on?" she whispered, leaning closer. "First smashing a Giant's brain out, then killing another one. It's just not you, the brutality doesn't suit you. So could you just tell me what changed you? I know you think that nobody could ever understand you, but you can at least give me a chance. I've been in Voldemort's head, too."

Harry averted his eyes. Avoiding her eyes was as difficult as fighting the Imperius curse. He hesitated. A part of him wanted to tell her about he prophecy, a part of him needed someone to share this burden with him, but at the same time he didn't want anybody's pity. Either to be a murderer or to be murdered, this was his path to go, and he would go alone. But faced with Ginny's pleading eyes, he couldn't reject her. After all she had a right to know, she was with him in the Department of Mysteries, and she knows what it felt like to be Tom Riddle.

"A prophecy was made after I was born," his voice crackled, he fixed his eyes on a shadowed point on the distant infirmary walls. "The copy of it was smashed last year, as you know. But Dumbledore kept the original versioni of it, and now I know it too. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.'"

Harry took a deep breath that pained his chest and paused, turning to look at Ginny's reaction. Unlike he anticipated, Ginny didn't yell out in surprise, she didn't shed any tears out of pity. Ginny was at a loss of words. She stared at him, her pupils wide, her mouth slightly open. Her face was marked with a forlorn expression as she watched him.

"The funny thing was," Harry continued bitterly. "It could have meant Neville. But the son of a bitch Voldemort 'marked me'. Well I certainly don't feel like his equal. But I would gladly kill him a thousand times over if I can."

Ginny continued to let the information sink it. She shook her head and spoke.

"No Harry." She whispered coarsely. "Don't speak like that. It's not you. You have compassion. You know love. It's the one thing Tom didn't have. That's the power he doesn't have."

Ginny seems to have recovered her composure. She shifted uncomfortably and stretched out her legs. With a wave with her wand, she moved her bed next to Harry's and climbed onto it. Then she lied down on her side to face Harry.

"You have something Tom doesn't. Tom didn't know love. He understood lust, he was drenched with it, but not love, which can be too great a power to imagine. That's because no one loved him. I wonder if you know, Harry, you and Tom are terribly similar but at the same time different," she was looking at him with eyes that burned. "Both of you were orphans. Both of you are talented wizards. Both of you are extremely brave, although Tom not in the same self-sacrificing way. You even look alike. Yet you are gentle and understanding, while Tom was too ambitious, he was greedy for power and revenge on those who wronged him. That's what brought his downfall. But you're not like that."

Harry nodded, or tried to.

"I know. He told me in the Chamber of Secrets." He said coldly. "Sixteen-years-old Tom Riddle, gloating over what he did to you. It's hard to believe that when he knew what it feels like to be lonely, he still orphaned so many after him. But you are right about the part of me being different. I am different. I feel different, Ginny. "

His voice suddenly dropped to a passionate whisper, eager to express some of his feelings.

"There are times when I taste no fear, when I feel so great and powerful like I can achieve anything. When I killed the giant, I felt no remorse or even panic. It was my first kill, and I enjoyed it. So many thoughts rushed into me at that time. A life so powerfully wrapped under layers of brutal, bloodthirsty force, full of energy. But the moment when it died, I can almost feel the life force draining from it. I can see its eyes darken, despair overrun pitiless confidence. With a little wave of my wand, life no longer holds its sway but crushed in my hands. So much power … At that moment … I played God."

Harry breathed deeply, eyes misting over hungrily as he relived the death of the Giant.

"Stop this! Please Harry stop. Please!" Ginny sat up, shaking her head in desperation. Harry could hear the tear in her voice. "You are talking about life like it's nothing. But do you know what it feels like to be dying? You don't. Well I'm telling you that I do. I've tasted death. In the Chamber of Secrets, when every drop of my life was flowing into Tom, I saw death descending on me. And I'm telling you it's not a pleasant feeling."

Harry caught his breath. His swelled heart returned to normal, rational feelings came back to him as he realized what he had just said. He stared again at Ginny as she sat cross-legged, strands of strayed across her face, the rest resting messily on her shoulders.

"I was in a void, sinking deeper and deeper. Around me I could hear cries of anguish. Pained ones, desperate ones, or resigned last breath of dying souls. Others were around me. I can't see but I feel their presence. I feel them falling just like I will fall, slowly, prolonged. It wasn't pain, and I watched my life replaying before my eyes. Being sorted into Gryffindor; meeting you at the train station; every prank the twins played on me; the time when my toy broom broke and I fell, hurting my knees; mum making my favorite fruit cake; dad bringing home muggle toys. Every second of it only made me to miss life more. I made so many bargains with God. I promised to be the good girl mum wanted me to be, I bargained with my sight, my ability to walk, all for another chance to live. Then I heard your voice calling me. I tried to struggle but I couldn't, and all I could hear, all I could feel is your voice wrapping around me like a blanket. I watched my own birth, I watched as the nurses washed me and wrapped me in a pink fluffy blanket, dad trying to tickle me. The beginning of my life marked my end. I waited in the abyss bracing for whatever is to come, but when I regained my sense the first thing I felt was not the fires of hell, but freezing cold floor, and your warmth as you held me."

She took a deep breath, her voice ragged, tear flowed freely down her cheek but she ignored it.

"When someone dies, that's how he feels," she whispered. "Do you still want to play God, Harry? Do you really want to inflict so much desperation for one that doesn't really deserve it? Everybody's got a right to live."

Silence drifted into the room, and the silence lasted. Harry's lips trembled, his breathing paced up as his chest heaved in pain.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he croaked. "I couldn't control myself. Please believe me. I didn't really believe in what I said, but I don't know what's wrong with me, sometimes, another side of me simply takes over."

Another pause. Ginny wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

"I know."

They talked until the first streak of sunshine crept upon the curtained window stills of the infirmary. Harry told Ginny his life with the Dursleys, the jokes he played on Dudley who was too stupid to react. Ginny laughed and in return, told him about her life being the youngest and only daughter in the Weasley family. The talk begun out of mutual need. Both needed to forget about their experience a few days before, both needed to loosen the atmosphere. They spoke awkwardly at the beginning, cautious of the choice of words. For Harry, it was the first time he shared a room with someone so understanding, the first time he met some one with the same necessity to unburden a troubled soul. The conversation gave him comfort, made the confinement of so many dark secrets bearable. They avoided, deliberately, saying anything of the destiny laid before Harry, but focused on happier experiences. The few hours of talks built up a bond of understanding between them, gave them a sense of comfort and security in each other's presence, it gave Harry hope, showed him the possible happiness of life. In the end, when all the happy thoughts were drained, Harry cried out all the guilt he had been bearing alone all summer and fell asleep smiling. As for Ginny Weasley, she understood for the first time what it feels like to be The-Boy-Who-Lived.

They slept during the morning, their beds inches away from each other's. They both slept smiling, and both smiled in their dreams.

Ron and Hermione visited in the afternoon, deliberately not making a comment on the new distance between Harry Ginny.

"How are you feeling Harry?" asked Hermione as Ron hugged her to stop her jumping on him.

Ron settled in an armchair at the foot of the two beds, smiling at his sister and his best friend. Hermione pretended not to notice the silly grin on his face and kicked off her shoes, sitting cross-legged on Ginny's bed.

"Much better, thanks," Harry said, wincing as he lifted himself up. Ginny reached out instinctively to help him, only to make Ron's grin wider.

"So what happened?" Harry asked, eager for information. "How come Hogwarts has been attacked? Isn't it protected by ancient spells or something?"

Hermione frowned slightly. "That's what it says in Hogwarts, a History. But Dumbledore made a speech on the next day we were attacked. He said something about 'Nothing lasts forever. Spells or objects… they all die away in the end. Whatever spells once protected Hogwarts have weakened centuries ago, what truly protects Hogwarts now is the spirit of the people living inside it. The unity that extends beyond the barriers of houses, the unity we displayed on the dreadful night – '"

"How the hell do you remember all that?" Ron interrupted, gaping at her. "And don't say 'I listen'."

"I listen, Ronald," Hermione pulled a face at him and turned towards Harry. "So you see, Voldemort is able to pass the magical field defending Hogwarts. You were able to disrupt Hogwarts' magic, Harry, therefore so can Voldemort. We have Aurors protecting Hogwarts now, Kingsley's in charge."

The four spent the afternoon catching up on what took place in Hogwarts. Ron's smile grew wider and wider as he watched the casual closeness that seemed to have settled between Harry and Ginny. Hermione frowned at him, but a small smile was tugging the corner of her lips. They were about the leave Harry for dinner when Silvia burst in screaming, followed by a highly amused-looking Professor Dumbledore.

"Oh Harry you're awake – you're awake!" she jumped onto him like a little girl, tears in her eyes.

"AWW – you're killing me!" Harry groaned under the impact.

Silvia paled seeing this and immediately jumped off him, only to bang her leg painfully on the bedside table. The others burst out laughing and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Good to see you back with us, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling. "You gave us quiet a scare."

"Thank you, Sir," Harry smiled back uncertainly, unsure of the Headmaster's response. He was sure that Dumbledore had more to say. "Is every one else –"

Harry paused, glancing at Silvia who was seething red, looking as if she was about to explode. She seemed to want to say something and was struggling to keep control. Dumbledore noticed this as well; he smiled and turned to look at Harry's friends.

"I have something to discuss with Harry in private. Why don't you go and eat dinner, you will notice that the Great Hall has been fixed," he said, blue eyes twinkling. "I'm aware of certain useful – er – tools called Extendable Ears. I would like to add that these won't work on the infirmary door."

Ron and Hermione smirked at this as they left, but Ginny blushed and tucked the flesh colored string back into her pocket. Dumbledore smiled at her warmly.

As soon as the others were out of earshot, Silvia exploded.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she screamed vehemently. "How DARE you… I thought I warned you about the importance of self-control. You could have blown up the whole school, and worse, you could have got yourself killed."

She paused for breath, panting heavily and glaring at Harry, who gulped, not expecting this.

"Speaking of self-control, where are mine?" Silvia calmed down slightly. "Professor, you first."

Dumbledore seemed to be trying not to smile as he put up a tight face, his facial muscles straining.

"Albus will be enough, dear girl," he nodded at her before turning onto Harry. "Harry, I must say I agree with Silvia. What you did was very irresponsible."

He sighed, suddenly looking very old. There was a tense pause, then he looked down at Harry with a sad smile.

"I made a mistake keeping information from you last year, and tried to do so again this year," Dumbledore's tired eyes did not move from Harry's confused ones, but the twinkle in it was gone. "I suppose the greatest mistake one could make is not learning from his mistakes, and I consider myself fortunate because I have decided to learn from mine."

Harry was utterly confused, but he could sense something in the Headmaster's words. On his side, Silvia no longer looked explosive but sad as she stared at the professor.

"I am sure you have realized that there seems to be an – ah - increase in power in your body." It was a statement, not a question. "I am also sure that you have experienced – say – alien emotions."

"Yes, sir," Harry said hesitantly. "Did you know why it's happening, sir?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. Suddenly, Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, appeared on his shoulder in a burst of flame. The beautiful bird studied Harry, it's head tilted to one side, and then it fluttered to the bed and rubbed a bright red head against Harry's face, giving a sweet chirping call.

Dumbledore's wrinkled face suddenly light up in surprise.

"Well Harry, it seems that Fawkes has taken a liking in you," exclaimed Dumbledore as the bird drifted back to his shoulders. "Phoenixes rarely greet anyone other than their own masters and their own kind physically, and they are usually overprotective of those they love. Fawkes seems rather worried about your state of health, I must say."

"Ok…"Harry was again at a loss of words. "Sir, you were saying…"

"Oh yes, I see you are once more eager for the truth," Dumbledore smiled as he caressed the phoenix with a finger. "Alas, I think I said to you once, the truth, being a thing both beautiful and terrible, should be treated with great caution. I would not have revealed this to you under normal circumstances, but after the attack on Sunday, my position has changed."

Dumbledore's face gradually grew serious as he spoke, and Silvia, who had been listening attentively, tensed up.

"First of all, I must say you reacted very well on Sunday, in fact, it exceeded my expectation. Even though you did perform the Killing Curse, you didn't give in to the temptation to kill more." Dumbledore smiled grimly. "Do you know, Harry, that it requires specific concentration to perform the killing curse?"

Harry dumbly shook his head.

"I didn't expect you to," said Dumbledore. "It's rare, indeed almost impossible, for a sixteen-years old young wizard to be able to perform the Avada Kedavra. But not only were you able to use it, you were also able to mold it into something different. Instantaneous death is the only gift the Killing curse brings. But you changed that, you took away the gift of a swift death, you changed the spell. This is something that requires enormous power and concentration."

"Sir? Is it because of the Mind Magic?" Harry interrupted hesitantly.

Dumbledore sighed again.

"Yes and No, Harry," he continued. "The Mind magic gives you strong concentration, but I do not believe your practice has reached that stage yet. I watched your power grow last year, and I expected your power to increase more this year as, after all, Voldemort did mark you as his equal. But I am unprepared for such a drastic burst of power."

Dumbledore shifted his eyes to the darkening sky outside the window.

"Power is a gift, and power itself is corrupting," Dumbledore's voice was coarse, like an old man's. "Your urge to kill was brought forth by the corrupting element of the great magic inside you. I wanted to give you free space to explore them, because magic is different for every one, because ultimately you would be the one to master it. But you are young, Harry, too young, too unprepared for the burden you bear and the power you hold. I want to be there to guide you, and this is all I want to say to you tonight."

Harry was silent for a moment, taking the information in. There seemed to be a piece of crucial information missing, a gap in Dumbledore's revelations. While Harry believed Dumbledore's words to be true, he was sure that the Headmaster still kept something back.

"Where, Professor, where is my power from?" Harry asked after a moment of thought. "Why haven't I experienced it before - say - in my fifth year? I tried to use the Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix after she – after she killed Sirius," Harry's was hit by a pang of guilt and sadness as he hadn't thought so much about his Godfather for the past few days. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Silvia, but Dumbledore seemed unperturbed. "But it didn't work. So why am I able to use the killing curse now?"

Dumbledore smiled. It was a bitter, pained smile Harry had never seen before.

"I should have known that you are going ask this," Dumbledore looked at Harry apologetically. "Trust me Harry, I would rather not answer this question then lie to you. But I do believe that you will find out when time is ripe. I have faith in you."

With that, Dumbledore gave him a nod and turned to leave, Fawkes disappearing after him in another burst of flame, leaving Harry staring after them, perplexed at the final declaration of trust.

A/N: I'm really surprise that I got so many reviews. Thank you! I'll answer them now.

Junky: nope, as you can see, I didn't kill Ginny. How can I? This is a H/G story after all

bandgsecurtiyaw: Lol, sorry, but apparently cliffhanger attract a lot of reviews

HP18: I promise I'll finish it this time. Sorry about that.

doomsday machine: Lol... so far I haven't changed much of the story yet, so ppl might still remember them. When the the Exile part comes in, however, i've totally changed the plot.

Caddy94: Thanks! I didn't kill Ginny though, so I'm not evil .

James Evans: It's great to hear stuffs like that. Actually, after reading some of the stuffs on this site, I kinda feel embarrased of my work.