Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any claim of ownership. All rights belong to the copyright holders and J.K. Rowling.
A/N
And chapter fourteen arrives!
Once again, I'd like to express my thanks to everyone who's followed, favourited or reviewed this story, so thanks!
Please, enjoy!
- JudgeKnox
Harry sprinted up the path, the gravel crunching loudly beneath his feet. The forest on either side crackled and swayed, the trees seeming to twist in the dark and loom over him like the jaws of a hungry beast. He thudded onwards, his heart hammering in his chest.
He ran along the covered bridge, the floor splintered and broken, sections of the roof destroyed and on fire. The acrid taste of smoke permeated the air, along with the coppery tang of blood and the sickening smell of burning flesh.
As soon as he reached the courtyard, the castle standing above, burning hot in its death, he knew it was over.
Numbly, he stumbled forwards, his feet scuffing on the rubble. His eyes flicked over the devastation, and odd jolt running through his heart every time he saw someone he recognised. It was then, atop the rubble in the centre of the courtyard and surrounded by bodies, he saw his world break apart.
Lying still, her face peaceful as though she were only asleep, was Ginny.
Harry didn't even feel the wand fall from his fingers, the stick of wood clattering deafeningly on the rubble despite the roaring fires above. He didn't notice when he started walking, his feet carrying him forward despite his sudden impulse to run, to simply run and never stop. He barely registered the lurch in balance as he collapsed to his knees next to her.
He noticed how the fire glinted off of her red hair, shining like a pool of rubies in the darkness. He recognised the calm expression on her face, remembering it from when she lay on the pillow next to his. He saw the dark patches of blood that stained her blouse, and the dust and grime that were spread all over her clothes. He felt, all to sharply, the cool of her skin beneath his fingers as he stroked the hair out of her face. He thought about how light he she was, when he lifted her up in his one arm, and cradled her to him tightly.
He felt the tears run down his face uncontrollably, dripping from his chin onto her lap.
But none of that mattered, because his Ginny was dead.
An awful, keening cry crept up from Harry's lungs, and before he knew it, he was screaming in anguish and despair, the pain tearing him asunder as he cried out his loss to the sky, the cold stars glittering above as the embers of the inferno flickered and died under their gaze.
Everything blacked out, as if smothered in a tide of darkness, before it all snapped back into focus.
Harry sprinted up the path, the gravel crunching loudly beneath his feet…
Remus Lupin hurtled up the path to the castle, his stiff joints screaming in protest, the teenager floating silently alongside him under an Impervius Charm as the icy rain drove downwards, soaking the older man thoroughly but simply rolling off of his charge, keeping the teenager dry.
He'd been asleep, tired after travelling to London for the Express, when the Dementors attacked. The sudden freezing cold of the Dementor's presence in the compartment had woken him. Even as someone crumpled to the floor in the dark, crashing painfully into his shins, he had drawn his wand and performed the Patronus Charm, the bright white of the spell forcing the creature from the train. As warmth flooded the compartment in its wake he'd directed the Patronus to clear the other carriages, the lights flickering on after a moment.
Looking down to see who'd collapsed, his breath caught in his throat when he saw a boy with round glasses and unruly black hair. Rolling the teenager onto his back he recognised the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. It was when Remus tried to wake Harry with Rennervate, and the teenager remained unresponsive, that his panic became acute.
He'd quickly ordered the two in the compartment – Harry's friends – to tell the driver that one of the students had collapsed, and that he'd take Harry ahead to the Hospital Wing, and return shortly. Placing his hand on the teenager's chest, Remus Disapparated from the compartment, appearing outside the gates to the grounds. He levitated Harry, who was now alarmingly pale, before sprinting to the castle as fast as his legs could carry him.
He raised his wand to the sky as he ran. "Periculum!" He yelled loudly, the red sparks shooting like a flare high above the grounds, lighting his approach towards the castle.
As he neared the main doors to the Entrance Hall they swung open, revealing Professor Dumbledore, the old man's look of surprise turning quickly to shock at the sight of his new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, drenched from the rain, levitating Harry Potter in tow. Dumbledore mastered his shock and his mouth set into a grim line as he turned, leading the way to the Hospital Wing.
"What happened?" He barked to Remus as they took the steps of the Grand Staircase two at a time.
"Dementors, Albus." Lupin responded quickly as they neared the Fourth Floor.
"The other students?" Dumbledore asked, his tone concerned.
"I drove the Dementors from the train, but I didn't have a chance to check before taking Harry here." Lupin said, before immediately realising with a shock that he'd left the students on the train, defenceless. Dumbledore was one step ahead, however.
"Fawkes!" He shouted, the Phoenix appearing next to them in a flash of bright flames, flying alongside them to keep pace. "Take Minerva and Filius to the Express, now." The Phoenix trilled in response before vanishing.
As they threw open the doors to the Hospital Wing, the matron, Madam Pomfrey, charged out of her office ready to confront whoever had just stormed in, but immediately stopped after seeing Harry. Rushing over to a bed, Remus set Harry down whilst Pomfrey twirled her wand in her hand, casting Diagnostic Charms. After a few tense, silent minutes whilst Pomfrey worked, pouring a few foul-smelling potions down the teenager's throat, she finally holstered her wand and turned to the two professors.
"He'll be alright, Albus." She said, Remus visibly sagging with relief. Dumbledore took off his half-moon glasses, sighing quietly as he wiped them clean with a silk cloth.
"Thank God." The Headmaster remarked, his expression tense. "Do you know what happened, Poppy?" He asked, turning to the matron, who nodded.
"It looks like a simple, but severe reaction to the Dementors. You did the right thing getting him here, Remus. I've never seen a reaction this bad." She stated.
Remus' head shot up. "A reaction?" He asked incredulously. "After he collapsed I tried to revive him, and he wouldn't wake. What on earth could provoke such a severe reaction in a child?"
Pomfrey frowned at the professor, irritated. "We all know that Mister Potter has had no small amount of tragedy in his life, Remus." The Defence Professor paused, his expression turning ashen as he responded.
"I-I know, but surely… Merlin." He breathed, before staggering over to a nearby chair and dropping his face into his hands.
Pomfrey turned to Dumbledore. "Although he'll definitely be fine physically, Albus, I'd like to keep him here tonight for observation. Whatever the Dementors have made him see, it might have psychological effects when he wakes."
Dumbledore sighed again, before nodding his assent. "I turn the boy over to your expert care then, Poppy. Please keep me informed of Harry's condition." Turning about, he strode from the Hospital Wing, Remus following in his wake. As the two walked silently down the corridor, Remus turned to Dumbledore.
"Some Defence Professor I am." Remus said dejectedly before turning to the Headmaster. "I'm sorry, Albus. I should've checked the other students, I should've-" he started, before Dumbledore cut him off with a gesture, coming to a halt and gently gripping the younger man's shoulder as he looked into his eyes.
"You've done nothing wrong, Remus. Your quick thinking may well have saved Harry's life." He said firmly, but with a kind smile on his face. "Minerva and Filius can see the students safely to school. I suggest you head to your office on the Third Floor and take a few minutes to collect yourself and dry off. You can join me downstairs in the Great Hall once you're ready." Remus nodded, before the two walked back to the Grand Staircase.
Harry blearily opened his eyes. He was somewhere warm, and comfortable, lying down. He tried to look around, but everything was blurry without his glasses. Instead, he listened intently for a moment, trying to identify his surroundings with sound.
Nothing. Wait…
Now that he was focused, he could hear the faint scratch of a quill on parchment. Slightly muffled, as if behind a door, but it was definitely there. He tried to move, but he could barely lift his own weight.
He felt vulnerable.
Exposed.
"H-hello?" He rasped out as loudly as he could manage, his throat dry and scratchy. "Is anyone there?"
The noise stopped, and Harry heard a door open as footsteps drew closer. A blurry, white-clad figure leaned over him. He thought he recognised them, but he couldn't tell.
"Mister Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked, Harry's brain going into overdrive after he recognised her voice.
Pomfrey? That means Hospital Wing. Which means…
Memories of the Dementor attack flooded back to Harry in an instant. How he'd holstered his wand and let the icy chill drag him under. How he must have collapsed. How-
The memory. Over and over.
Ginny…
Harry's eyes burned as tears ran gently down his face as he remembered what he'd been forced to see. He couldn't even wipe them off, he was so weak.
Suddenly he felt himself being gently lifted upright, pillows being piled behind him so he could sit up. A mug of something hot was pressed to his lips as he felt his glasses being carefully returned to his face, everything snapping into focus.
"It's hot chocolate, Mister Potter. Drink up, you'll feel better." Madam Pomfrey said kindly, tilting the mug slightly so that a little of the thick, rich drink could pour down Harry's throat. As soon as the chocolate touched his tongue, Harry started to feel his strength return. The warmth of the drink flooded down into his chest as he swallowed it, burning away the cold and weakness that gripped him and sending jolts of energy into his limbs and extremities.
"That's it, Mister Potter," Pomfrey encouraged, tilting the mug away a moment so Harry could take a shuddering breath before continuing to drink the hot chocolate.
After a minute or so, the mug was drained, and Harry shifted himself into a more comfortable position. He looked to the bedside table, and was relieved to see his wand lying on it. He turned to Madam Pomfrey, screwing up his face a little to look confused.
"…What happened to me?" He asked hesitantly.
"When the Dementors boarded the train, you had a severe reaction to their presence, Mister Potter." Pomfrey replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Luckily, you were sharing a compartment with our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin. He drove the creature away and attempted to revive you and, seeing that you were unresponsive, took you straight to me."
Harry paused.
If Lupin left the train with me, what happened to the rest of the students? To Ron, Hermione and Ginny?
"Do you know if anyone else was affected?" Harry asked.
Pomfrey shook her head before replying. "You were the only one that was brought to me, Mister Potter. Professor Dumbledore dispatched the staff to the train once you arrived." She pulled a wry smile. "Although, normally I don't see you until after the school year starts."
"Yeah, sorry about that." Harry responded sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "How long was I out?" He realised he was currently in pyjamas, instead of the jeans and t-shirt he'd been wearing on the train. He must have been changed after he was taken to the Hospital Wing.
"About five hours." Pomfrey answered. "You've unfortunately already missed the sorting, and you're to stay here until tomorrow morning."
Harry nodded, in no position to argue.
"I'd like to speak to you tomorrow about how you feel," Pomfrey stated. Harry looked at her, nonplussed. "Dementors are terrible creatures, Mister Potter. They feed on our good memories and at the same time force us to relive our worst. Although the physical damage they cause is fairly straightforward to remedy," she gestured to the empty mug in her hand, "the shock of such an event can be quite traumatic. As such, I'd like to make sure there are no lingering effects before I discharge you from my care. Now, try and get some sleep." She said as she removed some of the pillows propping Harry up, gently laying him back on down on the bed. She took off his glasses, and put them neatly next to his wand on the bedside table.
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." Harry murmured, fatigue already tugging at him, his eyelids drooping closed. Within a few moments, he was peacefully asleep.
Harry felt a weight settle by his legs, the presence drawing him out of his slumber. Opening his eyes, he realised with a start that it was still dark in the Hospital Wing. Lifting his head, he saw a blurry figure sitting on his bed, looking at him.
He didn't need his glasses to recognise her.
He immediately reached over to the bedside table, grabbing for his wand. His stomach plummeted when he couldn't feel it under his fingers.
WHERE IS IT?
"Let me help you, love." Ginny said, gently pushing his glasses onto his face. As everything came into focus, Harry looked over the bedside table.
His wand wasn't on it.
"Looking for this?" Ginny asked, twirling the stick of holly in one of her hands.
"Give that to me. Now." Harry ordered, his voice firm.
"And what will you do if I don't?" Ginny replied, a coy smile on her face. "Pry it from my fingers?" She scoffed. "No, I think I'll keep this while we talk."
"Talk, about what?" Harry asked shortly.
"Your return to Hogwarts didn't go to plan, did it?" She remarked idly, ignoring Harry's question. "I mean, you were expecting the Dementors, but this?" She gestured to the darkened Hospital Wing. "Things are moving faster than you can control. They've changed since the last time. You're no longer the conductor of this orchestra, Harry."
"What happened yesterday doesn't change anything, Gin." Harry said quickly.
She looked at him sharply, her eyes alight with silent laughter. "How could you possibly know that? You think that you've left the past – or should I say, the future – behind. You think that it can't reach you through the veils of time." She sighed, her expression turning sad as she examined him. "All of these walls, Harry. Walls within walls. They can't protect you from what you've seen and done. The Dementor attack is proof of that.
"You're trying to control the flow of the river, love, without realising you're already swept up in it. If you carry on like this, you'll drown for sure."
"Is that why you're here?" Harry asked, his voice biting and sarcastic. "To warn me off of this? I hate to break it to you, but I'm here now and I'm not interested in going back."
Ginny laughed and shook her head. "You've got so much conviction when you see me, Harry. I know how scared you really are. I'm not trying to get you to stop-"
"Really?" Harry cut her off. "That's certainly what it sounds like."
"-I'm trying," Ginny continued as if she hadn't been interrupted, "to get you to see." The last word was spoken imploringly, her sudden, pleading tone snapping Harry out of his anger for a moment.
"You've carried your pain for so long, love." She said quietly. "It follows you wherever you go. You nearly understood in our first conversation. You were so close!" She spat bitterly. "The future – with all of its joy and its sorrow, is a part of you as surely as I am. And you're hiding from it instead, even when it breaks down your door."
Harry stared at her incredulously. "I'm not hiding," he answered, his rage rearing its head again as his tone became harsher. "Nor am I running like you accused me of the last time you saw me. I've made a decision, and I'm moving forward." He glared at the redhead, his expression hard.
"If that were certain, I wouldn't be here." She said simply, by way of reply. "Before I go, I'll ask you another question.
"How can you be sure that you're the one who's moving, Harry, and that everything else isn't moving around you instead?"
Harry blinked, confused, and in the instant his eyes were closed he felt Ginny's weight on his bed disappear. Looking around, he saw that once again, he was alone. He looked to the bedside table, and saw his wand sat on it just as it had been before he went to sleep. He snatched it up, pointing it frantically at the shadowy corners of the room.
No one. I'm alone.
He settled back on his pillows, his thoughts racing.
Why do I keep seeing her? He asked himself, the question echoing in his mind, unanswered. How can she even be here?
But she's not here, another voice responded. She's dead. She died years ago at the massacre at Hogwarts. You held her body, for Christ's sake. Whatever this is, it isn't her.
His internal discussion was silenced by a single thought, loud and commanding.
This is irrelevant. Do not lose sight of the goal. Stay on mission.
Harry sighed, wiping his face in his hands. Any chance of returning to sleep had long since vanished, and he simply sat up, waiting for dawn. Only about twenty minutes or so had passed in silence before the sun broke the horizon, flooding the Hospital Wing with pink light. Harry got out of bed, and started stretching. Although he couldn't leave, he decided to some basic exercises while he waited for Madam Pomfrey to wake. Lying down on his front, his stretches finished, he began to do some press-ups.
They were hard work, and his thirteen-year-old body had considerably lower stamina than what he was used to, but he still managed to finish a short set.
After another half an hour, Madam Pomfrey quietly entered and was surprised to see the teenager awake, pacing back and forth in his pyjamas.
"Up already?" She asked, concern visible on her face.
"I couldn't sleep, Madam Pomfey." Harry replied quietly. "Nightmares, you see."
"Ah." Pomfrey muttered. With a small sigh she walked over, motioning for Harry to sit down on the bed. "Well, since you're awake, now seems as good a time as any to talk to you, Mister Potter." With a flick of her wand, a straight-backed wooden chair materialised across from Harry, which Pomfrey quickly occupied. She looked across at the teenager, examining him silently for a moment before she spoke.
"Was your nightmare related to the Dementor attack?" She asked abruptly, although her eyes were kind.
"Yes." Harry replied. "In a way."
"Do you feel any lingering cold or sadness from the Dementors?"
"No, I don't think so." Harry answered honestly – physically, he felt alright.
"That's good. If you're up to it, would you mind telling me what the Dementor made you see when it attacked?" She inquired gently.
Harry went to shake his head, but stopped himself – he needed as few questions as possible from the staff. He obviously couldn't tell the truth, but to say nothing might be dangerous. He decided to settle for a half-truth, instead.
"I didn't see anything." He started, quickly noting Pomfrey's surprise before he continued. "But I heard something." Pomfrey paused, looking at the teenager intently. "I… I think it was my mum, just before she died. I've never heard her voice before."
Pomfrey gasped quietly, before rallying herself and gently gripping Harry's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mister Potter." She said simply, before standing up, the chair vanishing with a wave of her wand. "I'd like you to eat a little bit of this chocolate every evening for the next few days." She continued, handing Harry a large slab of Honeydukes' chocolate. "If you have any more serious nightmares or returning symptoms, come back to the Hospital Wing immediately."
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." Harry said, standing up and walking to the door.
"You're free to go, Mister Potter." She stated, the teenager walking out of the door a moment later.
Harry walked slowly up the Grand Staircase, staring at the hundreds of moving magical portraits that hung on every patch of wall. He realised, after leaving the Hospital Wing, that he'd never even bothered to look at most of them, and that they quickly faded into the background in the years he spent at Hogwarts.
Seeing the castle again, restored and whole, gave him a new perspective, he thought to himself as he climbed a moving staircase between the fifth and sixth floors.
The castle was more of a home to him than anywhere he'd been in his life, and yet he'd never truly appreciated it until it was gone. As such, this revelation found him examining every portrait he could see, looking through every doorway and window, studying every piece of beautiful architecture as if discovering it anew for the first time.
It was easy to think of a place like Hogwarts as eternal: ancient, yet formidable and unyielding to time or the elements. The grand towers, turrets, battlements and halls created an illusion of permanence to it, Harry thought as he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.
But it wasn't permanent. Like everything else in the world, it could be destroyed.
That's not going to happen this time.
It was when Harry looked up at the Fat Lady (who was sleeping) that he realised with a shock that he didn't have the new password to enter the Common Room.
"Er… excuse me?" He asked, the Lady continuing to snore lightly.
"Excuse me!" He said a little louder, his voice carrying in the large hall. The Fat Lady blearily opened her eyes, and she immediately glared at the teenager in front of her.
"What do you want, Mister Potter, waking me up at the crack of dawn!?" She retorted angrily.
"I need to get into the Tower, please." Harry replied, trying to look as innocent as possible.
The Fat Lady's eyes narrowed. "Password?" She hissed.
Harry shifted on the spot. "Erm, you see- I was in the Hospital Wing last night, and I don't exactly have the password-"
"Aha!" She exclaimed victoriously. "No password, no entry!"
"I was attacked by Dementors!" Harry insisted.
The Fat Lady scoffed. "Dementors, hah! If you're going to come up with an excuse, Potter, pick one that's believable."
"It's true!" Harry half-shouted. "Hold on, if you know it's me, why don't you just let me in?" He asked incredulously.
"Because you don't have the password." The Fat Lady replied simply.
Harry's fingers twitched towards his wand, and he ruthlessly supressed the urge to blast the portrait off of the wall and break into Gryffindor Tower by himself. "Fine, then I'll just wait outside until someone lets me in!" He said sulkily.
The Fat Lady regarded him with disdain for a moment before she laid back in the painting, falling back to sleep in moments.
Harry swore profusely under his breath as he looked around. He was trapped, out on the staircase in nothing but his pyjamas.
He'd just sat down, gearing up for a long wait, when the portrait swung inwards – with a squawk of irritation from the Fat Lady – and a familiar bushy-haired girl stepped out. She let out a sudden shriek of surprise at seeing Harry sitting down, cross-legged, just outside.
"Harry!" Hermione cried out, helping the teenager to his feet and wrapping him in a tight hug. "I was just about to head over to the Hospital Wing to see you! Are you alright? What happened? I-" She started, before Harry interrupted the rush of questions with a laugh.
"I'm alright, Hermione – Pomfrey just released me." He said, chuckling. "I'd just reached the portrait when I realised I didn't have the password. It's lucky you came out when you did, I didn't fancy waiting for Peeves to find me in my pyjamas." He said, quickly darting his eyes about the large hall in case the Poltergeist was waiting nearby.
"As for what happened, the Dementor on the train hit me for six, I think." He smiled despite his evasiveness, trying to ease his friend's obvious worry. "Were you and Ron alright?" He asked quickly.
Harry missed the momentary look of confusion that flashed across Hermione's face at his response, before she nodded in answer to his question. "After Professor Lupin drove the Dementor off he tried to wake you, and when that failed he Apparated from the train. It looks like only the one Dementor boarded the train, but Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick showed up only a minute or so after Professor Lupin left with you." She suddenly sniffled, before once more throwing her arms around Harry, crushing him slightly in her embrace. "Oh, Harry! When you didn't wake up I was so worried!"
Harry patted her back, laughing. "It's okay, Hermione. I'm fine now, promise!"
Hermione let out a watery chuckle herself, before releasing Harry.
"Well, if it's alright with you I should probably get back to the dormitory and get dressed." He said, blushing a little. "What's the password, by the way?"
"Oh, right, it's Fortuna Major." Hermione stated, the portrait swinging open in response, the Fat Lady grumbling the entire way. The two headed into the Common Room, and Harry told Hermione to wait for him there, as he'd only be a little while.
Sneaking into the boys' dormitory, Harry grinned to himself when he recognised Ron's loud snore. Creeping over to his own four-poster bed, Harry opened his trunk and got dressed as quietly as he could manage, before casting a quick Scourgify on himself – he could shower in the evening when he got the chance.
He looked around the dormitory, as cosy and warm as he remembered, a contented smile on his face.
He was finally home.