A/N: Sorry, I've been a bit slack on getting the chapters up here. Well, bright side is you get three brand new chapters at once! Aren't you lucky?
P.S. I also post this story at (the writers block dot org dot uk). I always post there first, so if you would like to check it out there, we'd love to have you. Check out the rest of the site while you're at it!
Chapter Eleven: The Spare
Harry sat with his face buried in his hands, his shoulders slumped. He didn't understand how Neville could still be hurt. The healers had discharged him; they had said he was fine. Now he lay back in the same bed, unconscious and as pale as a winter snow.
Luna and Ginny were perched on either side of the bed, each clutching one of Neville's hands. Harry was too miserable to even feel a pang of jealousy this time. The two girls seemed to have forgotten their spat in light of the present situation.
Ron and Hermione were seated in chairs on the opposite side of the bed from Harry. Hermione's face was buried in Ron's shoulder and Ron was whispering quietly to her.
Draco had been left without a chair and was seated on the floor next to Harry, his back against the stucco wall. Harry had offered his chair, but Draco had stubbornly refused.
Harry lifted his head and glared at the door. They had been sitting there for over an hour and the healers had yet to come back into the room. Harry wasn't sure if he should take that as good news or bad.
He was also stuck as to what they should do from here. What if Neville had to be laid up for awhile? They were short on time as it was. He couldn't leave Neville here alone; someone might come back to finish him off.
Yet he knew they couldn't sit around here and wait until Neville was well. They had to get moving. They had four horcruxes to destroy and they needed to do so as quickly as possible before Voldemort realized they were onto him.
He was visiting the idea of getting in touch with Neville's grandmother when the door at the far end of the ward opened and Healer Post entered.
Harry shot to his feet. Hermione's head snapped up and he could see that her eyes were red and puffy. Everyone turned and watched as Healer Post approached them.
"We're doing all that we can, but we just can't seem to find the source of the pain," he said quietly. "He's in a lot of pain, but I don't think that, for the present moment, this is life threatening." Harry nodded slowly, feeling a tiny bit of elation at this news. Neville was going to be okay. He was going to live.
"What do you mean, at the present moment?" Luna asked, her expression dark.
"I mean as of right this moment, his injuries do not appear to be fatal. Of course, we all know that magic is extremely temperamental and nothing is for certain."
"So you're saying this could become life-threatening?" Harry clarified. The healer nodded.
"We'll need to keep him here, of course, and he'll be under constant surveillance, most likely hourly to every half hour. The potions we gave him seem to be helping somewhat, but there's no telling how long that will last." Harry stared at him.
"Wait, so you're telling me that when a man was savaged by a giant poisonous snake you were able to make him well, but you can't reverse the effects of a simple curse?" The healer glared at him.
"This was no 'simple curse', Mr. Potter," he said disdainfully. "Whatever your friend was hit with, not only have we yet to identify it, we've yet to discover all of the various effects it may or may not have. This is probably the most complex spell I've ever seen." Harry looked away.
"When will you know if he is going to be okay?" He asked gruffly. Healer Post shrugged.
"We're hoping to know by the end of this week. Possibly sooner, but we're fairly booked up with patients. You-Know-Who isn't exactly giving us any breaks." Harry nodded.
"Thank you." The healer frowned, as if trying to decide whether he was being dismissed or not. Finally, he gave a curt nod and left the room. Harry sank back into his chair and groaned. He was relieved that Neville was going to survive, but he knew they couldn't possibly wait around there for a week.
He gazed around at the others. They gazed back at him, looking unsure.
"Harry, we - we can't possibly sit here for the next week," Hermione ventured quietly. Harry nodded, running his hands over his face.
"I know," he replied, glad someone else had voiced his thoughts. "But we can't leave him alone here, either. I'm not saying the hospital will let just anyone in, but I don't want to take any chances here. Remember what happened with Bode?" Hermione looked horrified.
"You don't think they'd try anything like that, do you?" Harry shrugged.
"I wouldn't put anything past Voldemort." He put his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself into a standing position. "I don't know what to do." Ginny glanced back at him.
"I could stay here," she said softly. He stared at her. "I could stay here and look after him. Maybe the healers will even set up a camp bed for me to sleep on, that way I can make sure nothing happens to him and no one comes in that we don't trust." Harry was silent for a minute. Part of him knew it was a good idea. Another part of him worried about Ginny. She was powerful and talented, sure, but she was a sixteen year old girl. She could easily be overpowered by a full-grown Death Eater. She'd already been hurt once; he could even see a small, fresh scar on her arm that reminded him vividly of it.
"I don't know," Ron chimed in. "You alone may not be enough-" Ginny plunked her hands on her hips, letting go of Neville for the first time.
"Ronald, you know I am perfectly capable. They're not going to stage an attack on the hospital just to get to Neville; it wouldn't be in their best interests. The most they'll do is something tricky, sneaky, like they did to Bode. I can catch those sorts of things, while the healers won't be expecting anything suspicious." Hermione was nodding her head.
"She's right. I think it would be best if one of us stays behind, if the healers will allow it." Harry sighed.
"Are you sure? You do realize what you will be missing out on?" She nodded.
"He's in this state because he was protecting me. The least I can do is protect him while he needs it." Her jaw was set, and Harry knew she would not be swayed. He nodded.
"All right, if this is what you want. We'll give you one of the mirrors and we'll take the other."
"But Harry, what if we get separated?" Hermione asked. "How will we communicate?" Harry sighed. He hadn't thought of that.
"We could use coins," Draco suggested. Everyone turned to stare at him. "Okay, look, I know I used those against you, and I'm sorry, but they could be useful, couldn't they?"
"We'll need to get a hold of some fake galleons," Hermione said after a moment, "unless you carry them in your pockets for some reason." Draco shook his head.
"Of course not," he shot back, rolling his eyes. "I was just making a suggestion." Harry held up his hand.
"Hermione, why don't you and Ron pop over to Diagon Alley and buy some fake galleons. While you're gone, I'd like to return to Hogwarts." She stared at him.
"You can't go alone!" Harry shook his head.
"I'm going alone," he said firmly. "I need to speak with Dumbledore privately." She studied him for a moment, and then stepped closer to him and spoke in a very low voice.
"And what are you going to do with Malfoy? Leave him here with Ginny and Luna?" Harry thought about that.
"I suppose not," he said with a sigh. "But he can't go waltzing into Dumbledore's office with me." Hermione nodded.
"You could disguise him again, but then Dumbledore always seems to know everything."
"Pot- Harry, can I have a private word?" Draco interrupted suddenly. Hermione and Harry broke apart and stared at him. "Just a quick one," he pleaded. Harry nodded.
They stepped out into the hallway. Draco looked a bit nervous. He rubbed his ear one more time. Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Are you sure you don't want something for that ear?" He asked. Draco shook his head.
"Not the time for that," he said quickly. "Look, I think I might know someone who can help Neville." Harry stared at him.
"What? Who?" Draco glanced up and down the hall.
"I can't tell you that," he said quietly. "But he works very closely with the Dark Lord and he may be able to figure out what spell Neville was hit with." Harry narrowed his eyes.
"You can't be serious. You want to go back to Voldemort? He'll probably kill you."
"No, not to the Dark Lord, to-"
"-to a Death Eater who works closely with Voldemort. You don't think this person will turn you in?" Draco sighed.
"You don't understand. This person doesn't want to be a Death Eater. He works closely with the Dark Lord because he's earned the trust, but he secretly works to bring him down."
"Okay, let me get this straight. There's a Death Eater spy for our side that I, as the Leader of the Order, don't know about, and you won't tell me his name but want me to let you go – without telling me where you're going – to go see this person?" Draco leaned against the wall.
"You're not getting it, Potter. This person doesn't work for your side. He became a Death Eater but he's been secretly working against the Dark Lord for years. I can't tell you his name because I can't betray his confidence. I can't tell you where I'm going because I can't betray his whereabouts. He won't turn me in to the Dark Lord. I trust this person; he will not betray me." Harry studied him for a long moment.
"Even if I did trust you on this, I can't possibly let you go alone." Draco seemed to panic just slightly.
"You can't go with me." Harry shook his head.
"I need to go to Hogwart's. And I know it would be far too dangerous if I went with you, I'm not that stupid. But I can't ask one of the others to go with you." Draco sagged.
"Of course not."
"I'll go with him." Harry turned, surprised, to see Hermione standing in the doorway. Draco glared at her.
"This was supposed to be a private word." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I came to tell Harry that Neville woke up." Harry started to push past her, but she grabbed his arm. "He went right back to sleep, but I wanted to let you know in case he woke again." Harry had the impression that she had invented the errand to check in on him, but he let it pass.
"You can't go with him," he informed her.
"It's the only thing that makes sense," she said reasonably. "Luna and Ginny can't apparate, Ron will kill him if they're left alone for too long, and you most certainly cannot go."
"But Hermione, you're muggle-born. What if-" She rolled her eyes.
"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she said calmly. "Stop treating us like damsels-in-distress, Harry. We're not weak just because we're girls." Harry stared at her.
"I'm not-"
"Yes, you are. You do it with Ginny and you're doing it with me. This is a dangerous mission; you can't save all of us and yourself. Let us save ourselves for once."
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to treat you like you're incompetent." She smiled.
"I know that, Harry. We're all at a high risk, but someone has to go and find out if this person can help Neville. And that someone is me. You go to Hogwarts; Draco can come with Ron and me to get the coins. We'll meet back here in, say two hours? Then Draco and I will go, and you, Ron, and Luna can head out." Harry nodded.
"All right, I suppose that will do." Hermione smiled. "Let's go talk to the others."
Fifteen minutes later, Harry stepped through the fireplace into Professor McGonagall's old Transfiguration office.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter," she said with a thin smile. He brushed ashes off of his coat into the fireplace.
"Good afternoon, Professor," he replied. She shook her head.
"I'm not your professor anymore," she reminded him as they left the office and headed up the corridor toward the Head office. Harry shook his head.
"I don't think I'd feel comfortable calling you anything else," he joked, and she gave him another wry smile. "May I ask you something?" His expression was as serious as possible. She nodded.
"Of course, what is it?" He glanced away.
"Is Professor Dumbledore – I mean, is his portrait-" McGonagall gazed at him for a moment with an expression of utmost pity. He couldn't stand to be looked at that way, and averted his eyes.
"I'll allow you to see for yourself," she said, her voice thick. "He should be finishing up with his appointment right now."
"Appointment?" McGonagall shrugged.
"I was wary at first but the poor girl was adamant that she speak with him, portrait or not. When I mentioned it to him, he insisted that I let her come. I'm not sure what good he'll be able to do for her." Harry nodded, but her words left him with a sinking feeling. She was as good as telling him that Dumbledore's portrait was not Dumbledore.
The staircase left them at the top landing, and McGonagall knocked loudly on the wooden doors. The ever-familiar voice wafted through the door, "Come in."
Harry wondered if she felt put-out at having to knock on what should be her own office door. Then, seeing the expression on her face as they entered the room and she seated herself behind the expansive desk, he understood that she, like him, would never be able to think of this room as anything other than Dumbledore's office.
Taking his eyes from McGonagall's face, Harry properly noticed the person standing in the middle of the room for the first time.
"What are you doing here?" The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"Well, I'd rather hoped for a nicer greeting, but I suppose that will do," Katrina Corner replied, looking confused and slightly hurt. Harry crossed his arms.
"I'm sorry if I seemed rude," he amended, "but you can't blame me for being suspicious. People who randomly show up in the same place as me, especially more than once, usually aren't my friends." Katrina nodded slowly.
"I guess I can understand that. Though when I scheduled this appointment I can assure you that I had no idea you would be in the same country, let alone the same castle."
"Fair enough," Harry replied, but he remained guarded. He didn't think Bill would nearly marry someone with the potential to be evil, but sometimes people could be poor judges of character.
"Perhaps it would help if I vouched for her credibility?" Dumbledore broke in cheerfully from his frame. Reluctantly, Harry turned and faced the portrait for the first time. Dumbledore smiled benignly, as though he recognized and understood how Harry felt.
"H-how are you professor?" He managed. Dumbledore inclined his head.
"Fairly well for a picture on the wall," he replied. "Katrina was my student and an undercover member of the order. No one but she and I knew of her activities," he added, throwing McGonagall an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry," Harry said quickly to Katrina. She only smiled.
"It's quite all right, Harry. Knowing your past, I can't possibly blame you for being cautious." Harry nodded sheepishly.
"Perhaps Katrina would like to visit with her brother before leaving?" Dumbledore suggested. Harry turned to her.
"I thought you said all of your family was killed?" She nodded.
"I thought they were. Apparently Michael escaped and they brought him here." Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as she said this, and Harry thought about how it would have felt had Sirius turned up alive.
"I'll escort Miss Corner to the Ravenclaw tower," McGonagall offered, and Dumbledore nodded.
"Thank you very much, Minerva." The two women left and Harry turned to the portrait.
"Why-" But he didn't even get the first word out before it hit him. "You sent her to Albania, didn't you? Because you knew Voldemort was there?" Dumbledore nodded.
"I did. Katrina's aunt, Dorcas Meadows, was killed by Voldemort personally before he met his downfall in you. Katrina's family refused to have anything to do with either side after that. When Katrina graduated from Hogwarts, she immediately sought me out and requested to join. She was vehement that she not 'stick her head in the sand' as her family was doing; she wanted to make her aunt proud. I gather that Dorcas was Katrina's favorite family member."
"Because of her family's feelings toward the matter, she and I decided to keep her involvement a secret. She no more believed that Voldemort was gone than I did, and she was determined to find him. She finally managed to locate him in Albania."
"That's who your 'source' was!" Harry exclaimed.
"Indeed," Dumbledore replied. "I wanted to be the one to check on that, but she insisted, and I had a school to run. I also had you to look after. When Pettigrew escaped I knew he intended to find Voldemort, but when I tried to reach Katrina to warn her, she had already left 'on holiday' as her supervisor told me. When she didn't return I searched and searched for her, but I had to be careful not to give away her involvement with the Order."
"There's one thing I don't get, though," Harry said, seating himself on a hard-backed chair. "Why did Voldemort go to Albania? Did he go there by choice or did the-"
"I can see by your expression that you have reached the same conclusion I did," Dumbledore replied cheerfully. Harry stood again and began pacing back and forth.
"So there's a horcrux in that forest. That's why Voldemort went there, and that's why Wormtail attacked Katrina. Does she know about the horcruxes?" Dumbledore shook his head.
"I don't know. I'm not sure exactly what she discovered in Albania, as she cannot even remember it herself. She is convinced that another visit would jog her memory, but I forbade her from going. It is far too dangerous for her to attempt alone." Dumbledore was giving Harry a meaningful stare. Harry was confused, but then-
"Oh! She could go with us and show us where the forest is! Then maybe she'll remember what she found there." Dumbledore was nodding pleasantly.
"I believe you will be able to reach her tomorrow at the Auror offices in the Ministry of Magic. Kingsley is her superior so you should not have a problem borrowing her for awhile."
"Good. The last thing I need is awkward questions. Though if I simply told them we were off to destroy Voldemort, I doubt they'd even believe me," he amended thoughtfully. Dumbledore chuckled.
"Well, you are the 'Chosen One' after all. They may believe you." Harry had to smile at that.
"About that, professor," Harry began. "I met Maria." Dumbledore nodded but did not comment. "She- well she told me a different reason for Voldemort choosing me." Dumbledore looked astonished.
"What do you mean?" He shrugged.
"That's just it; she wasn't very straight with me. She vaguely outlined a situation that basically said a death-eater-in-training was in love with my mum while they were at Hogwarts, and that this person unknowingly caused Voldemort to choose me. What if that's true?" Dumbledore did not reply for a moment. He seemed to be weighing the situation.
"Well, Harry, I suppose that could have been part of it. However, I still maintain that Voldemort saw you as a bigger threat than Neville Longbottom." Harry cringed as he thought of Neville's pale figure lying in the bed at St. Mungo's. "Why, we may never know, but he saw himself in you, Harry, and I believe it frightened him enough to act."
"He obviously finds us both a threat now." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?" Harry scuffed his toe on the ground.
"Neville's in St. Mungo's. He and Ginny were attacked by Bellatrix Lestrange and her minions. Ginny's no worse for the wear, but Voldemort showed up and attacked Neville personally with something that the healers think may be life-threatening."
"I see. Still, that does not necessarily mean that Voldemort believed Neville to be a threat. Voldemort does not discriminate when it comes to his victims. Anyone who stands in his way will suffer his wrath if they are not adequately equipped to defend themselves. Neville was, at the moment, preventing Voldemort from getting what he wanted in that time and place, and he suffered for it." Harry shook his head.
"He was a 'spare'," he clarified with disgust on his face.
"A spare?" Dumbledore repeated. Harry nodded.
"Like Cedric Diggory. Voldemort called him 'the spare' when he told Wormtail to kill him. Cedric wasn't a threat to Voldemort. He wasn't anything or anyone important to Voldemort at that moment, he just happened to be standing in the way."
"Neville Longbottom is anything but a 'spare', Harry. Neither was Cedric."
"To me and you. Not to Voldemort." Harry sank back into the chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "Sometimes I wish I was a spare."
"You have a great responsibility on your shoulders, Harry. Do not become discouraged simply because of the weight of your burden. It is nowhere near a large as your power and determination. And nothing eclipses your ability to love." Dumbledore held up his hand to quell any protests.
"There's something else I have for you that may be of some use to you." Dumbledore pointed over to the glass cabinet standing in the corner. It was the cabinet that once housed Dumbledore's Pensieve, the Pensieve that now belonged to Alastor Moody.
Harry carefully opened the door. Inside, on the top shelf where the Pensieve had rested, sat over a dozen tiny bottles, each full of silver vapor that could only be memories. Harry lifted one of the bottles to the light, and then glanced back at Dumbledore in confusion.
"These are what I considered to be my most important memories regarding Voldemort. Some of them you have already seen, but revisiting them is a good way to learn new things that you may not have noticed before. There are also several that you have not seen, some of which may give you insight for your journey ahead." Harry nodded. He glanced around the office but there did not seem to be anything for him to store the bottles in. He glanced helplessly at Dumbledore for a moment. Normally at this point, Dumbledore would have conjured some sort of case to carry them. This portrait, however helpful it may have been, could not hold a wand, let alone perform and magic.
Sighing, Harry pulled out his wand and concentrated hard, reminding himself that even if he failed, only Dumbledore would be there to see it and he was unlikely to poke fun at such a thing. He twirled his wand unnecessarily before clearing his throat and using all of his mind power to produce a case.
To his everlasting surprise, a small black case with little prongs to hold the vials appeared at his feet. He quickly packed the bottles into and closed it. Dumbledore smiled.
"Very good, Harry. I assume you doubted yourself?" Harry nodded, still reeling with shock that he had actually accomplished this magic. "That just goes to show you that you are more powerful than you think." Harry started to protest, but stopped again. He was going to have to exact some sort of confidence if he planned to defeat the most evil Dark Wizard of all time.
"Thank you, sir. I suppose I'll need some confidence in the future," he replied, speaking his thoughts aloud.
"That you will, Harry. And love. Don't forget your strongest weapon." Harry nodded. He was still unsure of how to use that particular "weapon", but he was beginning to learn to trust Dumbledore on all accounts. The old man was wise indeed.
Except with Snape, he reminded himself. He refused to dwell on those thoughts again. How could he be so trusting of people who so obviously didn't deserve it? How could Dumbledore remain so optimistic when there were people like Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange in the world?
Thinking of Bellatrix reminded him of Neville and he wondered how long he had been there. Hermione had given him a two hour time frame. He was sure he would need to get back.
"I had better be off," Harry said. There was an awkward silence. What else could he say?
"Go, Harry. You have much to accomplish and precious little time to do so in. I have every faith that you will succeed." Harry nodded.
"Thank you, professor." He began to walk away, but a glimpse of the lake through the window made him think of something. "Professor, where did you learn to speak Mermish?" Dumbledore smiled.
"Ah, that is quite the fanciful story, Harry, but now is not the time." Harry wrinkled his nose.
"That's what you always say when I ask you for a story." Dumbledore chuckled.
"Yes, well the other story you so desperately craved can be found in one of those little bottles you carry." Harry glanced down at the case in surprise. When he looked back up, Dumbledore was gone.
