53: Facing Fears: Part II
Harry couldn't sleep. He knew it would probably be the best if he did, but he simply couldn't: not that he was afraid of the connection, or that he wouldn't be able to pull himself out. He was terrified that Mr Weasley might die tonight, if he couldn't penetrate Riddle's mind fast enough. What made it all more unnerving was that his mind was only the most relaxed when he was asleep, and that he couldn't practise Occlumency to help himself to sleep. Harry was sleepless, and he was helplessly so.
Beside him, Ron wasn't asleep either. He had been doodling since Harry came up to the dormitory, switched to reading around midnight, and was now failing to fake his snores. Harry knew he was thinking about the exact same thing, knew that they could maybe talk about it now that the other boys were asleep, but he was certain that neither of them wanted to talk. So he lay there, in his four-poster bed with the curtains half open, and tried to work up some more relaxing memories, while having all of them ended up in the Department of Mysteries corridor over and over again. Nothing, it seemed, could help him relax, and thus perform his task. All they could do was to wait, and not to break the silence.
So they waited. Minute by minute, second by second. It wasn't until Harry's thirtieth time turning in his bed that he felt it, a burning pain shooting up his scar, and closed his eyes.
Arthur was already up with his wand raised, and it was his job to attack, to kill… It was just one person, one person until victory, one disposable wizard… He opened his jaw wide, bared his fangs, and clenched them mercilessly at his target's arm… The man was yelling in pain… Good…
"Harry! Harry!" someone was yelling from miles away, but it didn't matter…
He retreated, tasting the pleasing, tingling sensation of blood and killing… It would make a good dinner… So he attacked again, this time with more force, more venom, more yells of pain, more blood, and more pleasure… The man fell down to the ground…
"Control, Harry! You need to control!" yelled that someone, though not so far away this time… They knew what he was doing…
Then he knew what to do. He was Harry, and he knew what he was supposed to do. With a mental intake of breath, he dived deeper into his dream, his vision, his reality, just as he lifted his triangular head once again…
There was a cold, frightening scream of pain and fear, or a mental equivalent of it. Either way, a door slammed shut right in front of him, and he could feel his scar again, burning as if someone had put a melted knife on it…
He opened his eyes. It didn't matter that he was drenched in cold sweat, or that his covers threatened to strangle him the second he moved… He needed to see him, right now! He tried to sit up...
"Harry!" a hand forced him back into his bed.
It was Ron. He needed to know… Even though he already did, he needed to tell him…
"Your Dad, Ron," he panted, before rolling over and vomited over the edge of the mattress. Thankfully Ron had Summoned a bucket just in time…
"You dad!" he tried again, fighting the pain and another threatening wave of nausea, "Attacked… Nagini..."
"Okay, okay," said Ron, his voice much higher than usual and full of fear… He hadn't heard that voice in ages… But that wasn't the point. Harry fell back into his bed, exhausted and shaking, and saw Ron's face for the first time since he woke up. He looked worse than he had prepared himself for. Harry had never seen him turn as pale as a sheet of paper before, with a bluish-grey shade of horror underneath his skin, and those apprehended blue eyes. If he would ever picture that face on something… It was probably when he saw him laying dead in Hagrid's arm, but that wouldn't be fear under his eyes; it'd be devastation...
"McGonagall..." he choked out, "I need to tell… Dumbledore..."
"Neville's on it," voice seemed to found its way back to Ron, "I asked him to fetch her as soon as you woke us up..."
The pain in his scar was subduing now, but the sweating and shivering wasn't going anywhere, neither, it seemed, was the nausea. But they were all under control now… Nothing was important… Nothing but time; racing it and winning it.
But they couldn't do anything but wait now. Neither boys was willing to talk as Ron's knees gave in and dropped onto the edge of Harry's bed. Harry did nothing but moving his legs and making room for his best mate. He really wanted to sit up, to be right there beside his friend, to offer him the little amount of comfort he could manage… To cast his Patronus… But he physically couldn't. He was still shaking and sweating madly, and any move to sit up threatened to drain him of all his energy; he couldn't risk to be unconscious now… He paid no attention to Seamus and Dean, who seemed to be whispering in the corner, and focused on calming himself and Ron, while saving strength for later.
There were finally hurried footsteps coming up the stairs when the pain in his scar receded to a more neglectable level. He dared to sit up just as Ron jumped up and Neville and McGonagall showed at the door.
"Over here, Professor."
"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?"
"It's Ron's dad," said Harry urgently, "He's been attacked by Riddle's snake, it's serious, I saw it happen."
"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" said McGonagall, her dark eyebrows contracting.
"I had another vision," said Harry impatiently, they really needed to get going now, "I - uh - I couldn't sleep, then my scar started hurting and I just saw it, like all the other times I'd seen him doing things… It was real, Professor… Mr Weasley was attacked by Nagini, and I saw the first two bites… She had gigantic fangs and there was blood everywhere… He fell... "
He trailed off. On his side, Ron dropped down again hearing the words. McGonagall spared both of them a studying look that turned horrified a second later, before saying curtly, "I believe you, Potter. We're going to see the Headmaster."
The half an hour of waiting in the Headmaster's office was no better than his first time around, if not worse. Now that Harry knew and understood what was happening, there seemed more to be fearful about. He could comfort himself that they'd come a little earlier this time, that he'd penetrated Riddle's mind a little earlier and hopefully it'd make him retreat earlier, but the scene of Mr Weasley lying in a pool of blood was not subduing from his mind. The lifeless body he'd witnessed twice overlapped each other, as bodies of Fred, Colin, Remus and Dora lay themselves one by one over the top. It took all he could to shove them away and answer Dumbledore's questions to his best ability, while waiting for the other Weasleys and Everard and Dilys to run back in.
"Yes, they've taken him to St Mungo's, Dumbledore..." panted Dilys as she sank into her chair, "They carried him past my portrait… he looks bad..."
Harry let out a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding and did so quietly. Beside him, he could feel Ron doing the same. He didn't dare to look at him as not to arouse anymore suspicions from Dumbledore, who was already looking pensive.
Harry tried to capture the old Headmaster's eyes, which seemed to bring him out of his musings. Dumbledore stood up, strode in front of a cupboard, and rummaged the contents. He didn't hesitate to make the kettle a Portkey, and turned to Phineas right away. Feeling more assured, Harry was finding their interaction more amusing than it would have been.
McGonagall ushered Fred, George and Ginny inside a moment later, all three looking dishevelled and shocked, in their pajamas and night gowns. Fred and George also had a trace of confusion and determination under their eyes, as Ginny sought Harry's eyes for reassurance.
"Harry - what's going on?" asked Ginny, "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad get hurt -"
Dumbledore answered the question for him, though not the deeper one wrapped within. Staring right into Ginny's frightened eyes, Harry gave a curt nod while Dumbledore was speaking. Her posture seemed to relax right away, yet Harry wasn't sure if Dumbledore had caught their exchange; if he had, he had reserved to not mention it.
It was finally the time to go. Harry used the second he stood up to check on Ron. To his relief, he now had some colour in his face, and it seemed unclenched enough for him to talk. Nonetheless, they all knew Arthur Weasley wasn't out of the woods yet.
"Back again, Master Harry?" said a voice as they hit the ground of the kitchen in number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
"OUT!" roared Sirius. A faint pop was heard a second later. The little reassurance Harry had felt for the last five minutes or so evaporated immediately as he realized why his Godfather was ordering the elf in such a manner… The horrifying fact that they were really sending Kreacher into that very Manor and play Severus' role while being an inferior servant hit him with a second wave of fear. He scrambled to his feet and met Ron's eyes, who had seemed to realize the very same thing, and froze. Sirius and Remus hurried towards them all, looking anxious.
"What's going on?" asked Sirius, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up, "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured -"
"Ask Harry," said Fred, Harry thought he'd detected a hint of anger and accusation.
"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George.
There was no mistake this time. Though George was suppressing it, his voice was definitely loaded with sarcasm and venom. Exchanging a look with Ginny, Harry told him what he had seen through Nagini's eyes, and made sure to inform them that Mr Weasley had been sent to St Mungo's.
"Is Mum here?" asked Fred.
"I believe Dumbledore's telling him now," said Remus, "He'd want to get you out before Umbridge could interfere."
Harry nodded slightly. There was a brief moment of silence until George seemed like he couldn't take it anymore.
"We've got to go to St Mungo's" said George, making his way towards the door without even realising he was still in his pyjamas.
"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St Mungo's!" said Sirius. George stopped, turning to look at the others.
"'Course we can go to St Munto's if we want," said Fred, "He's our dad!"
"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital let his wife know?"
"What does that matter?" said George hotly, finally letting some of his emotions out.
"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" said Sirius, his voice slightly raised, "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"
"Or Voldemort," Remus cut in before either side could lose their tempers, "It is moments like this that we need to collect ourselves and try to be rational. I know it's difficult; it's never easy, waiting like that. But there's still hope. Arthur's in St Mungo's now and they will find a way -"
"You - you don't know!" shouted Fred, "You don't know dad'll be all right! And do you care if he - he -"
He trailed off. Harry knew too well which word had precisely been stuck in his throat. He, however, remained silent, and let Remus continue with his peacekeeping.
"You're right, I don't know if he'll make it," said Remus calmly, not backing off, "But I also know that barging into St Mungo's is not going to help right now. If we go right now, chances are we'll distract the Healers and your dad's odds may be even further compromised. And none of us want that, do we?"
Admitting defeat, the twins sank into the chairs, followed by Harry, Ron and Ginny, who dropped into the nearest armchairs respectively. Butterbeer was Summoned and handed out, though Harry made no move to drink. He needed to talk to Remus and Sirius, yet he wanted to be on Ginny's side, preferably without making Ron feeling left out. He was sitting there, immersed in his own mental battle, when finally Fawkes brought Mrs Weasley's note.
"Still alive..." said George slowly, "But that makes it sound..."
All of a sudden, Ron stood up. Pulling a bewildered Ginny beside him, the two siblings left the kitchen and disappeared in the Hallway. Sirius and Remus shot Harry questioning looks before looking away. They avoided each other's eyes for a few minutes before Ron and Ginny came back in, looking grim but somewhat better. Harry shot up an eyebrow, to which Ginny nodded and Ron swallowed, before standing up and leading the Marauders to follow suit.
"Is Arthur going to be all right?" asked Remus urgently as Harry charmed the door against eavesdropping.
"Last time, he was," said Harry, seeing both men relax visibly, "But it was close. And that's all I can tell you."
"What was Ron doing earlier?" said Sirius.
"They've sent a message to Percy," translated Harry, adding as he saw Sirius' confusion, "Ron thinks he'll come around sooner this time, especially if he's informed of Mr Weasley's injury."
Sirius nodded but didn't say anything. Remus, however, asked in concern, "D'you think it's a good idea? With the twins -"
"Fred was the first one to forgive Percy," said Harry firmly, "It'll work out in the end - they aren't exactly stable right now -"
Sirius snorted quietly.
"Anyways, now that Kreacher's on his way, " Harry continued, "Do you have ideas for, you know?"
"Does it mean Arthur will be okay?" asked Sirius, "Since you're not asking about him?"
"No," Harry waved a hand, "There's just nothing we can do, and I certainly can't ferment my thoughts on the subject - so any ideas?"
The Marauders each proposed a few theories before the three stepped back into the kitchen. Harry was glad to see Ron and Ginny huddled together in a magically expanded armchair in front of the fireplace. He walked over, sat down on the other side, and put his arm around Ginny's waist. Ron looked up at him as Ginny shifted towards him and rested her head on his shoulder, but did not change his position. Fred and George's eyes followed him vehemently, but he didn't care. It was the only thing that could get him through the silence…
Percy had never missed a day of work, nor had he been late, ever. He considered it irresponsible. Therefore, he was sitting in his flat now, feeling torn, the incident earlier replaying itself in his mind.
He had just woken up and was in the process of putting on his robes when a bright, silver light lit the entire flat. His first thought was something in his flat had finally broken, but the light soon materialised into an animal; a Patronus with the form of a jack russell terrier. What was going on?
Percy gaped at the animal as he spoke, in Ron's voice: Dad's gravely injured, First Floor Dai Llewellyn Ward. Crouch is in St Mungo's, too; don't know where he is.
Since then, he had been sitting on the edge of his bed, weighing his options. He could visit dad; he wanted to visit him, but at what cost? Ron had been right all along, he had really missed his family, but he couldn't back off now, could he? He could maybe get away with less eagerness at work and blame it on the stress, but wouldn't visit dad blow it all off? Besides, even if he went back, would they accept him? Ron would, for sure. Ginny, maybe. But what about Bill and Charlie? The twins? Percy shuddered at the thought of the twins' reaction to his return.
Or he could go to work and pretend nothing had happened. But it was taking the easy way out, and Percy was tired of escaping. Sure he could keep up his performance with the Minister, and save himself loads of trouble by not going back, but it just wasn't right. And Ron, his fifteen-year-old brother Ron had warned him that one day they would all be forced to choose between what was right and what was easy. His family had chosen right, and he'd chosen easy. It just wasn't right.
Was there a compromise? Percy snorted in comtempt: he, Percy Weasley, had never even considered a compromise before; he'd always thought they were soft, a sign of weakness. But could he maybe Disillusion himself and sneak into St Mungo's? The thought of the Hospital's security measures and the consequences of being caught again made him shudder. It simply wouldn't work, unless he wanted to be shipped off to Azkaban, along with everyone else in his family.
Percy stood up and made himself some tea and toast. Either way, he'd had to get out of his bed and start moving first, and a breakfast was an ingrained part of his morning routines. He sat down again, only to find himself glaring at his food, as if to decide whether to let them eat him now. Then there was a second silvery light, taking the form of a horse, and spoke in Ginny's voice:
Courage is finding the strength to face your fear, Perce.
The calmness in his little sister's voice struck him. What had happened? Since when did Ginny, the baby girl who always trailed behind her numerous brothers screaming and demanding their attention, become such a composed, strong, young woman? Percy didn't know, because he had been too caught up in his studies and career to notice. Guilt and shame began to erode him as he was reminded again of Ginny's message. Percy jumped up. It was not yet seven, and he wasn't due at work until eight thirty… He wouldn't be late if he went right now, he just wouldn't be early… And Crouch from Ron's message…
Quickly cleaning himself up, Percy grabbed a few biscuits, put on his cloak, and strode out of his flat.
Mrs Weasley didn't return to Grimmauld Place until half past four that morning. Upon her arrival, the inhabitants had managed a brief tea/breakfast before heading up for a kip. Now that the crisis had passed, Harry found himself relaxing, and instantly falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Their visit, though, didn't go as well as it should have been. Mr Weasley was reading the Daily Prophet when they walked in, but the mood in the room was somewhat tense.
"Hello!" called Mr Weasley, "Bill just left, Molly, had to go back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later."
"How are you, Arthur?" asked Mrs Weasley, bending down to kiss his cheek, looking anxious, "You still look a bit peaky… Did anything else happen?"
"I feel absolutely fine," assured Mr Weasley, "If they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home - Percy came."
There was a collective muttering from the twins, while Ron and Ginny looked hopeful. Mrs Weasley sqealed, "Percy? He came? When? How? I don't understand -"
"He came this morning, before Bill left," said Mr Weasley, looking anxious and relieved at the same time, "Didn't stay long though, said he couldn't be late to work -"
"That git," snorted Fred, "Can't even see his father without missing work!"
"That's enough, Fred," admonished Mrs Weasley, before turning back to Mr Weasley, "Did he say something else?"
"Not really," sighed Mr Weasley, "But I do worry about him. He seemed conflicted. He wants to come back but," he eyed the twins, "is afraid of our reception. That's why he didn't stay long."
"Can we invite him over for Christmas, dad?" asked Ginny eagerly. Fred and George looked appalled by the idea, but shut their mouths at Mrs Weasley's face.
"I think he wants to come," nodded Mr Weasley, "He really just worries about, ah, not being welcomed. The only problem is Dumbledore, you know he'll need the address."
"Can't we, I dunno, ask for it or something?" asked Ron, "I mean, Her- OUCH!"
Harry had elbowed him hard so that he wouldn't reveal Hermione's plan this early on. However, Mrs Weasley had already caught on, and began her planning.
"Aw, we invited the Grangers, didn't we, Arthur?" asked Mrs Weasley, "I suppose we can ask Dumbledore for both of them?"
"Please do, Mum," said Ginny, obviously excited to have everyone together for a Christmas, "We've never had a Christmas together before! It'll be the whole family!"
"And the Order," muttered Ron quietly. Only Harry had heard it, and he turned his snort into a sneeze just in time.
"So, dad," said Fred, attempting to deflect the subject, "Why can't they take your bandages off?"
Then the conversation was back on track again, ending with the children being ushered out of the room when Order businesses were mentioned, forcing them to hear about Mad-Eye's theory on Harry being possessed through the Extendable Ears.
A/N: Well, don't know about you, but I feel like fifth year is flying by! We're already at Christmas and the end of the year is coming up running, and I'm absolutely not prepared for sixth year QwQ. Please, folks, REVIEW! I'll only know what to put into future chapters if you tell me what you think and what you want! I'll spare all your recommendations a thought, and either give you a reason why that wouldn't work (only when we come across it, of course), or actually use it! So please, tell me where I'm doing right and where I could improve!
setokayba2n: I repeated the patronus talk on purpose... I wasn't going to do this but then I felt like giving Seamus a perspective because this is such a significant moment for him even though he's not aware of it. This talk is also important to Harry, and I need to specify his thoughts here, and that's why I did a double. There will be more doubling backs in the future to come, but I don't plan on repeating a conversation like this unless absolutely necessary. Sorry for the confusion!
Guest: I'm a cannon writer, so sorry there won't be any Cedric/Hermione pairings... I'm still undecided on the Cedric/Cho relationship, and I can't spoil anything right here right now. Just know or now that this timeline is a bit tricky to bend, while allowing room for change.
SharpRaptor: Like I said, the late night Patronus talk is a continuation from the Harry/Jo conversation in Ch51: Like a Patronus. I think I also mentioned it in Ch30: Confession that they used to do it as a coping method after the war, and I think it became a habit, a refuge where Harry retreats to to seek some balance and a peaceful, safe 'place' to think and retrospect, which is what he needs that night. Don't know if it answers your question, but I think a Patronus really is a representation of some sort of healing power over psychological and emotional setbacks rather than a sheer defense against dark creatures. And thank you for respecting Jo despite his backstory. There's an old Chinese phrase, 出淤泥而不染, which means that (lilies) grow from mud yet they are still pure and beautiful, even elegant, and I think this is exactly Jo in this story.
Once again, folks, PLEASE REVIEW! I can't appreciate you more!
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