The Man Who Lives
By: PenPatronus
Author's Notes: Help! I'm going through review withdrawal!
Chapter 9:
Wandless and Fancy Free
-"…the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters." –Sirius Black (5, 302)
He was at Azkaban, and there they were.
Harry felt his heart go invisible with lightness. He darted forward, breathless from the speed despite the short distance.
Harry counted red heads as he ran. Two, three, six, eight…only eight. He counted again: three, six…only eight. Who was missing? Harry felt himself drawn to Mrs. Weasley who was lying still and silent, chained by one wrist and one ankle to the prison floor. Molly stirred when Harry whispered quick spells to disintegrate the chains as the other Order members helped the rest of the Weasleys as quietly as possible. Harry glanced around as he helped Molly up. Arthur was being carried by both Kingsley and Remus, unconscious and covered in blood. Only Bill, Percy and Charlie seemed to be able to hold themselves up, all three bruised and limping.
"Harry," Mrs. Weasley croaked. She made a valiant effort to push him away but slumped against the wall. Tonks appeared to their left, looking grim as she hovered over a deathly pale George. Angelina had her arms around Fred who sat next to his twin looking petrified. "Harry—" Molly tried again.
"Shh, stay quiet, Mrs. Weasley, we don't want to be discovered."
"Nooo…" she moaned. She took a deep breath to summon another sentence but caught sight of Percy and Bill, now freed, lifting up Ron who shook from Craticus aftershocks even in his sleep.
"I've got him," Bill stated quietly as he took their youngest brother fully in his arms. His chin quivered but he stood straight.
"My babies…" Molly moaned. Just then Dumbledore entered with a flourish of his robes. He took what Harry was sure was a Quaffle from his cloak. A Portkey. "Harry, it's a trap. Harry, please listen." Harry turned back to Molly whose eyes were ablaze with urgency, "They're expecting you, they're—they're letting you get us but they have—Harry, Harry you must leave, they're after y-you—Ginny, he has Ginny—"
Harry was away in a dash before Molly or anyone else could call him back. He had no clue where he was going, no evidence of where to find Ginny and an entire island to search—
"Harry! HARRY! Help me! I'm down here, Harry, hurry!"
A staircase that Harry could've sworn hadn't been there before led down from the main corridor of Azkaban's cells. But nothing mattered but the urgency in Ginny's voice and Harry jogged down the stairs, ignoring the fact that each step disappeared behind him as he went.
"Ginny!"
"Harry!"
"Ginny—" Harry skidded to a stop when he saw her. The basement of Azkaban was dark and murky and Harry practically felt the ocean waves lap against the walls. Ginny was standing, but Harry didn't know how. It looked like both of her legs were broken. And she was grinning, widely…too widely. Harry's stomach clenched and he raised his wand as a shrouded figure descended from the shadows. "Finite Incantatem."
Imperius lifted, Ginny shook the remaining evil out of herself, and recognized Harry for the first time. "Harry," she gasped, her voice thick with pain and shame, "I'm so sorry Harry he, he used me…again—run…" She crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Harry pivoted to the Death Eater. He had been expecting Malfoy, or a Lestrange. Even Wormtail.
He was not expecting the Dark Lord himself.
"Harry Potter. I've been expecting you."
Voldemort raised his wand.
Harry awoke as if an earthquake had hit. He immediately turned over in his bed to find Ron's empty. Seamus' bed was empty. Neville's was empty. He took a deep breath and slung his arm over his shoulder, waiting for the sun to fully rise.
-------
"Did you get my class schedule?"
Harry cocked his head at Hermione as he plopped into the chair by Ron's bed in the hospital wing. "You don't trust me, do you?" He handed her breakfast, class schedule and morning Owl mail over in a single pile.
"Honestly, Harry, I trust you with unimportant things, like my life." Hermione sighed as she spread her things across Ron's legs. "But my schoolwork?"
Ron Weasley snorted and wiggled his toes to get her off. He scratched at the bandage around his neck, the only thing out of place on their first day of the school term. Madam Pomfrey had been running tests on Ron all morning. No discernable poison, infection or abnormality of any kind was found in his body. A vase full of violently violet flowers with long, droopy orange leaves was on the bedside table next to them, courtesy of Luna Lovegood, who swore they sucked any diseases out of you by attaching their leaves to your ears while you sleep.
The door behind them opened again with Ginny and Dean strolling through it. They looked like they weren't about to respond to greetings even if they were offered with sincere enthusiasm. Dean handed an envelope to Ron, and Ginny a Daily Prophet to Hermione. Her cheeks were white. They sat on opposite ends of the bed next to Ron's. When Ron asked what the envelope was (his name was written on the outside), Dean explained that he'd found it under Neville's pillow.
"Oh my…" Hermione emerged from the front page of the newspaper. She flipped it for them all to see. The headline read Death Eater Bodies Found at Riddle Mansion. As Ron opened the envelope, Hermione read aloud from the article. "Igor Karkaroff dead…Dark Mark over a Death Eater…Polyjuice Potion fooled Aurors into thinking the body was Bellatrix Lestrange…Potion wore off to reveal the ex-Durmstrang Headmaster… Other body…sixteen-year-old Neville Longbottom…Priori Incantatem revealed the Killing Curse from his wand…Minister's son injured earlier last night…Arthur Weasley's leadership in question because of supposed "bending" of the rules in his position in Misuse of Muggle Artifacts… sympathy and communications with Muggle minister improved…Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' Inflatable Fireplaces being banned and recalled for security reasons… yadda yadda yadda…"
Hermione folded the newspaper and slammed it against her lap. "This is why Neville did it! He was guaranteed to be allowed to kill the woman who harmed his parents but he was tricked! They wanted Karkaroff dead and this was just a more entertaining way to do it!…But why would Voldemort want him to do this to Ron…"
"Oh it's more complicated than that." Ron's voice was uncharacteristically hushed. He looked at Harry who met his eyes with a frown. Ron tossed the letter from Neville like a Frisbee into Hermione's hands. She stared at him before beginning to read. "Read it out loud." Hermione swallowed several times before continuing.
"Dear Ron. By the time you get this letter you'll probably be feeling better, but they tell me that won't last. And to be honest, that's all I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry about this, about what I'm going to do. And no, I'm not under Imperius (I kinda wish I was). I take full responsibility for this. My Uncle Algie and the Death Eaters gave me an ultimatum. I had the choice between three people to give the Serum to: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley or Ginny Weasley. I couldn't hurt Ginny, I just couldn't. And Harry has always been so kind to me and he—he just seems so important, like everyone needs him or something—I don't know…The Serum is some sort of biological weapon that they've been testing with House-elves and now they're ready for human subjects. I'm sorry, Ron. But they said if I didn't do it, they'd kill my parents." Hermione hesitated. "And if I did do it, they'd cure them. Voldemort's followers have…connections at St. Mungo's; they know how to cure insanity from Craticus." Hermione bowed her head. "I'll contact you as soon as possible, I promise. Maybe if I'm around them long enough I'll be able to find the antidote. I don't want you to die, Ron…but I want my parents back too. Ask Harry what he would do in this situation, if he had the chance to get his mum and dad back. I'm sorry I'm not brave, guess I'm not a Gryffindor after all. Please forgive me…Neville."
Hermione rubbed the letter gently between her thumb and forefinger. Harry heard the tears in her voice: "We better tell Madam Pomfrey…I guess we know who the "Peter" of the group is…" She raised her chin and met Harry's eyes and the look exchanged between them was one of…failure.
Ron's lips made an extra loud smack as he gnawed at a piece of toast from breakfast. "Huh?"
-------
"God I hate this nasty room," Snape was sneering from the front of the class. It was two days later, and the Gryffindor sixth years were enduring their first Defense class. Snape was layered in black robes up to his chin and he turned his white pointed nose up towards some invisible enemy near the ceiling. He sniffed and Harry waited to be accused of something or other. "Still reeks of garlic from that idiot Quirrel. Imbecile," he growled.
Harry sighed and allowed his eyes to relax out of focus. He had a list in his head that seemed to him a living, breathing monster. He pictured it chiseled into a gravestone, a liquid one that was constantly growing. It was a list of his friends and loved ones who were victims: his Mum and Dad, Cedric, Sirius, Seamus, Cho, Lavender, Oliver…Neville…
"Potter. POTTER! On your feet."
Harry looked up to see Snape pointing a wand at him. Harry raised and eyebrow as he rose to his feet. He was not in the mood to fight.
"Now, before we continue with the theory of the Imperius curse, I'd like to dispel a rumor I've heard around Hogwarts that Potter has "strength of character." Laughable. Supposedly Mr. Potter here is renowned for his ability to fight off Dark enchantments but," Snape snorted at Harry, he looked positively gleeful, "I doubt the abilities of those who have tried to curse him."
"Would that refer to Barty Crouch, Jr. or to Voldemort?" Harry dryly asked.
The room gasped but Snape's eyes narrowed. Without further ado he hissed "Imperio" and Harry felt his body wrapped around by the curse as if it were a noose. The world became hazy and surreal but sharp. He heard Snape's hissing voice in his ear but he straightened against it…
…and then deflated. Why bother? Harry wondered to himself. Why should I bother with any of this anymore…I'll be dead soon…why bother…He felt numb again and he shut his eyes as Snape cackled commands in his ear. Some part of his will that used to be fueled by Sirius was depleted, and Harry didn't watch as Snape made his body move…
"I never thought I'd be annoyed with Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermione yawned when they exited an hour later.
"Bloody git, Snape is. Do you think he's not teaching us on purpose?"
"Honestly, Ron. Every time we're suspicious of him we're wrong. There must be a reason why he's not teaching us anything more than theory. Didn't think anyone could be worse than Umbridge. By the way, Harry, you were a very graceful ballerina. I didn't know you could stretch and jump like that."
"At least Snape didn't transfigure your robes into a pink tutu?" Ron offered.
"That was grotesque…"
Harry rolled his eyes. The three Gryffindors were heading to lunch after the torture of Binns and Snape. Ron sighed on Harry's left and Hermione hiked her knapsack higher on her shoulder on his right. They'd been doing that lately, walking down the hallway with Harry between them. Harry didn't know if this was a conscious act on their part or not, and he had yet to decide if it was comforting or annoying.
"Did you hear what we're doing in McGonagall's class?" Hermione looked like the news was the highlight of her year. "We're not transfiguring animals into objects but objects into animals! Doesn't that sound—"
"Pointless?" Ron declared. Just then Crookshanks barreled into the hallway from the direction of Gryffindor's common room. The cat screeched and darted between students' legs as a roaring Mrs. Norris chased her.
Harry had just begun to ask if either of them knew what was for lunch when Ron suddenly stopped walking.
Hermione kept on going before she noticed. She looked all set to be annoyed when she pivoted around. Harry assumed Ron had bent to tie a shoe. But Ron had just simply stopped, was simply standing still, his palm at his chest. Their fellow students walked around him without a second glance.
"Ron, come on!" Hermione demanded. Ron blinked, the hand at his heart shaking. Harry took a cautious step towards him.
"Ron?" Ron's chin snapped up and he lowered his hand, flashing a smile and a shrug and stepping forward again.
And he promptly crumpled to the floor.
-------
Harry Potter kicked open the door to the hospital wing. Hermione scurried in front of him, yelling for Madam Pomfrey. Ron hadn't so much as fluttered an eyelash during his bumpy trip in Harry's arms. Harry grunted as he gently lowered his best friend into the nearest bed, muttering fondly for Ron to lose some weight. He flicked his wand and said "Enervate!" for the fourth time but Ron still didn't stir. Harry sighed and leaned his fists into the mattress, bowing his head. "God…"
"Move, Potter!" Pomfrey appeared with a small vial in her bony fist. In an experienced motion she shook, uncorked and held the potion to Ron's nose and a moment later he was awake.
Ron blinked, looking not dizzy or ill or groggy but surprised. "Didn't I just leave here?"
"If you wanted to miss more classes, Ron, try a Skiving Snackbox."
Hermione looked less amused than Harry. She stood off to the side, arms wrapped around herself, upper teeth biting her lower lip.
Ron sat up and swung his legs over the bed. "Harry, I'm fine."
"You fainted."
"Say 'passed out,' mate, doesn't sound so girlie."
"You were touching your chest, Ron, did it hurt?"
Ron frowned; thinking as he smoothly got to his feet, ignoring Harry's outstretched arms and Poppy's utterance about "ungrateful students." "I don't remember." A shadow of something somersaulted through his eyes but it quickly fled. "I'm hungry, let's get lunch already."
Both boys jumped at the sound of a door slamming shut. Hermione had just stormed out and disappeared down the hall. Harry shrugged at Ron's raised eyebrow.
"I just need some food," Ron concluded partly to himself as he led the way out of the infirmary.
Hermione was not in the Great Hall so they ate alone and in a dense silence. Harry stayed a step behind Ron the rest of the day, not in case he had to catch him, he didn't want Ron to see his face. During the following weeks, Harry made observations unbeknownst to Ron: half-eaten dinners, vomiting in their bathroom at 3am, lack of concentration during Quiddich practices, subconscious moments of rubbing his chest or head at whatever pain was there, obvious fevers that could be felt from feet away, sleeping (more than usual!) in class…Harry hoped he was falling in love, that this was not the result of whatever had been in that needle Neville had. Even visiting St. Mungo's on Sundays for more extensive testing hadn't revealed a thing.
One night Harry shook Ron awake from a bad dream (quite the role reversal). In explanation Ron murmured, "I was kissing…But then I opened my eyes and she was a Dementor…"
-------
Meanwhile there were Occlumency lessons, Wandless Magic trainings and Quiddich practices. Occlumency was suddenly quite easy for Harry.
"Excellent, Mr. Potter!" Dumbledore clapped his long fingered hands together. "Only your second lesson with me and you've already mastered Occlumency. Professor Snape must've had more progress last year than either of you knew." The Hogwarts headmaster gathered his robes and sat behind his desk. Fawkes hooted his approval from a perch above. "Or perhaps you have the proper motivation this time, hmmm?"
Harry crossed his arms at his chest, "I would've had the same motivation this time last year, if I had been told certain things."
Dumbledore looked at him and then slowly his head began to vibrate into a nod. "Yes, perhaps. Perhaps indeed." Harry didn't look back as he left the office.
Wandless Magic was tricky but Remus was a good teacher who punctually rolled out of the Room of Requirement's fireplace every evening with a huge maroon book in his hand: Godric Gryffindor's journals.
"I only know of two other people who are able to do Wandless Magic—"
"You mean someone who's alive now?"
"—Gryffindor being the only one who has documented his discovery of it—no Harry of course I don't know anyone, other than House-elves—hey we should have Dobby teach you!" Remus grinned at the horrified look on his godson's face before continuing, "Anyway, we've all done it at some point. Young wizards do it accidentally when their powers are just emerging as I'm sure you know. ("I burnt Fred's shorts off," Ron muttered.) It's just in very rare occasions that someone is able to harness that when they're older. Although, as Mad-Eye likes to remind us, accidents do happen. The trick is in focusing it." Remus flipped open the maroon book and his face disappeared behind it. "Gryffindor also mentions that his father was an Animagus and he hypothesizes that the offspring of Animagi may be more likely to be able to control their Wandless powers. Another theory is that, because the spell is in you rather than from you, into the wand, that if you use a Killing Curse Wandless Magically, it might kill you as well. Gryffindor writes that whenever he uses any pain curse, a stinging hex, Craticus, etc., he felt the pain in him as well as transferred it to the victim. And eventually you shouldn't even have to speak the spell out loud. When you summon you're telling the wand what magic to pull out of yourself but with Wandless Magic, with your fingers attached to your mind, they don't need told what to do. Fascinating."
For their first lesson, which Ron and Hermione attended out of curiosity, Lupin took out a long skinny wand and placed it in Harry's hand. "Alright, let's see that swish-and-flick."
Harry rolled his eyes, "I'm a sixth year, Remus. I know how to do that."
"I know I know," Remus wrapped his brown robes around himself and smiled at Harry with an unusual sparkle in his eye. "But according to Gryffindor you have to make that same motion with your fingers when you're Wandless. Naturally you'll start to do it almost microscopically (pardon the Muggle term) when you get used to that motion, just like you do now with a wand, but I want you to practice it like this for now. And then there's all these spells that you just have to think of without pointing your hand—like this permanent Wandless Magic shield of some sort that you can keep up all the time, it deflects major curses but—oh we'll get to that later. But now use your right hand, your wand hand. And try to access some strong emotion, Harry—anger or fear or love—"
Harry blushed when Ginny's face sprung up in his mind. He looked to Ron and Hermione, the latter who was watching in awe and the former who was sitting on the floor and fiddling with the feathers of one of Hermione's quills. Hermione shrugged and Harry raised the new wand: "Relashio," fiery sparks lit up the room, "Evanesco" and Hermione's quill disappeared, and with "Lumos" the room was lit by an unnecessarily bright light. Harry pointed at the bricks of the fireplace and was surprised when they all cracked and half after a simple "Diffindo!" For a moment Harry could've sworn he sensed the spell as well as cast it.
Ron backed away from the fireplace and Hermione frowned at the wand in Harry's possession, "Does that wand make spells more powerful?"
"No, no no," Lupin was grinned as he shook his head. "That wand is from the twins' joke shop!" The three teenagers frowned at him. "It's not real! To do Wandless Magic you have to focus the spell as if you have a wand in your hand! And as you can see, Wandless is significantly stronger than wanded magic. That's why Godric Gryffindor was so powerful! As a rule: magic can be focused better with a wand but it's stronger when used without one. Although he also said that doing it Wandless can weaken you very quickly…"
"What? Oh let me see that!" Ron reached up and snatched the wand out of Harry's hand. "Lumos!"
With what sounded like a laugh the wand imploded and left dust spiraling all over the room and a distinct, spicy scent in the air that made Ron's eyes itch and burn.
Ron, Remus and Hermione turned back to Harry. Lupin's godson stared at them for a second and then stared at his right hand. He mimed holding a wand, wrapped his fingers around some invisible stick, concentrated and then said firmly, "Lumos."
Light shot out of his pads of his fingers.