Victory never tasted so sweet.
Harry awoke in the Hospital wing, lying in a familiar bed.
Madam Pomfrey bustled over a bit later and Harry asked for a bedpan.
That done, Harry rested. Professor Dumbledore came in a while later, doubtless summoned by Madam Pomfrey.
"Harry, you seem to have been in the wars" said the Headmaster jovially. Harry blinked "Sorry for stunning the pink hair lady, but I wanted my own revenge."
"Your, ah cousin Tonks is no worse for wear, whereas you're very ill, Harry." said Professor Dumbledore. "What happened?"
"Poison gas" Harry admitted "And touching Tom. It really hurts."
"Where did that happen?" asked Professor Dumbledore less jovially.
"A graveyard." said Harry "I touched him, and he burnt."
"Oh" said Professor Dumbledore "Your mother's protection, which saved you from the killing curse as a baby, must have been potent enough to kill Tom in person. Again."
"How does that work?" asked Harry.
"I suspect her love, her willing sacrifice." said Professor Dumbledore, frowning.
"A bit of a woolly description?" asked Harry angrily.
"A soul magic ritual, then, if the precision makes you feel better?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"I feel like I've been run over by a lorry, but, it must have been something more than just love, because every witch would be able to do it if it was just loving their child" said Harry optimistically.
"Well, Harry, I need to tell you something, and remain calm." said Professor Dumbledore. "In the three days you've been unconscious, an informant of mine tells me, the death eaters dark mark, a magical tattoo that binds the death eaters to their master, has faded again. I believe Tom Riddle has suffered a setback much like the one in nineteen ninety-two."
"Not dead" sighed Harry.
"Well, he has you-know-what's" said Professor Dumbledore, who looked quite tired.
"Less" said Harry "I had one in my scar."
Professor Dumbledore stared at Harry, his mouth open.
Harry shrugged "So, probably seven then?" he said.
Professor Dumbledore's mouth went up and down for a bit, then he said "I think… yours might have been an accident."
Harry wished he could lift one eyebrow so very badly.
"So eight parts, and I've done… three, we need to find the other four." said Harry, and the effort of saying that was enough to have his vision greying out.
"Quite" said Professor Dumbledore. "I have some theories about what and where."
"Could you do some of it?" asked Harry weakly "I don't feel very well."
Professor Dumbledore pursed his lips, evidently recognising the cheek in Harry's last gasps.
"I will make all possible haste" said Professor Dumbledore, and he left.
Harry lay in the bed and rested. It was hard to do anything else.
A day later, he could go to the loo on his own, wobbly legs. The nutrient potions tasted like sweaty socks, and the soup like dishwater.
One more day, and he was discharged. Hermione Granger was sitting on a bench outside the infirmary, waiting. "Harry?" she asked. Harry nodded "I feel terrible, but yeah. S'me."
Hermione Granger smiled slightly "Well, good to see you, did you know your scar's gone down? Hardly shows any more."
Harry's lips twisted up at one end. "That's good." he agreed.
"And you won the contest" said Hermione. Harry snorted. "I suppose the other contestants are fine?"
"Yes" said Hermione drily, limping along with Harry.
Harry got into the great hall, and Professor Dumbledore, from the top table smiled to Harry and nodded. Harry felt an eerie sense of relief. Then Professor Dumbledore stood up and loudly announced that Harry Potter, winner of the Triwizard Cup had recovered enough to eat dinner, and applauded. There was desultory applause, and Harry went and sat down at the Slytherin table, in a clear space away from the other students, and leaned on the table, aching. Food appeared for him, and he ate a little. It still tasted of nothing. Harry regretted his perhaps, in hindsight rash decision to make a Horcrux. Though... it had saved him once or twice this week, he supposed. How else was he supposed to survive a confrontation with Tom Riddle. Luck?
Many of the Slytherin students, Harry noticed, looked quite teary, and not he supposed from joy at his victory. The sad looking ones wore white armbands. Some sort of tradition Harry knew nothing about, he supposed, and slowly ate tasteless muck in the shape of good food.
After dinner, Harry limped down to the Slytherin Dorms, where there was desultory applause from the students there as Harry passed across the room. Greengrass, for some reason went white as a sheet and shook. Harry didn't get hexed, so really, who cared.
Blaise Zabini nodded from his bed, studiously casually. Nott was wearing one of the white arm bands. Crabbe and Goyle were wearing the armbands too.
Harry woke up stiff and sore, had a shower, dressed, and slowly walked to breakfast.
As he ate tasteless food, a letter arrived from the Department of Magical Sports and Games, informing him of his winning of the Tri-Wizard tournament, and that his Gringotts vault had been credited a thousand galleons. Harry incinerated the letter, just for practice.
"Bad news?" asked Blaise Zabini from a tiny cup of coffee.
"Irrelevant letter, easier to incinerate than carry about." replied Harry.
As Harry finished a cup of tea that reminded him all too much of dishwater, Professor Dumbledore caught his eye and nodded to Harry. When the Headmaster left, Harry stood and followed.
He followed the headmaster up to his office, his legs aching from the exertion; the password this week was apparently jelly slugs, and sat down on a visitors chair. From the corner of the room, the phoenix, Fawkes stirred in it's sleep.
Professor Dumbledore waved his wand and the door Harry had left open closed with a thud.
"Good news Harry" said Professor Dumbledore with a small smile "I have very likely found two more"
Harry blinked and looked over the Headmasters' shoulder.
"You don't seem very pleased?" asked the Headmaster evenly.
"Well, I don't want to seem ungrateful, but… I thought he was gone as a child, as did everyone, and he came back." said Harry. "I suppose it will take some time to sink in."
"If there was something I could do?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Well, I wouldn't mind a single last look at the Mirror of Erised" said Harry. "One last look at my parents, before the end of term?"
"Ah" said the Headmaster "I think we can do that. Remember though Harry, that the Mirror of Erised is terribly dangerous, men have weakened and died in front of it, looking for what can never be."
"I think if I can survive Tom Riddle, I can probably last ten minutes in front of a mirror" said Harry "Unless it made fun of my hair. That wouldn't be fair" Harry joked weakly.
"Ha Ha" said Professor Dumbledore politely, and stood up, walking over to Fawkes. "Wake up old friend?" he asked gently and the Phoenix opened it's eyes and sat up "Prek?"
"A trip to the Mirror of Erised with Harry. He wants to see his family again" explained Professor Dumbledore.
"Prawk" said Fawkes, and hopped up onto the professors shoulder.
"Come hold my hand Harry, we'll go by flame travel. Quite the technique Fawkes has" explained the Headmaster, and Fawkes made a "Pawk" that sounded almost embarrassed.
Harry held the Professors dry, leathery hand, and Fawkes stood up high on his legs, flapped his wings once, and they disappeared in a ball of flame, to reappear in a small circular tower room, dominated by the Mirror of Erised. The room had no exits apart from the windows.
Harry let go Professor Dumbledore's hand and stepped around in front of the mirror.
The sight was unexpected.
Harry stood in the mirror, surrounded by laden tables of food that rotted as Harry watched, while a bevy of beautiful women standing near Harry looking at him adoringly. Then the women were devoured by maggots, leaving only bones, that fell to the ground.
Harry swallowed. Not exactly what he'd been expecting. He'd been hoping for a chance to gloat at all his dead enemies. Now his heart was racing and his palms were sweaty.
The Harry in the mirror smiled at Harry, drew his wand and started casting spell after spell, mostly dark curses, and his eyes flickered and turned red. Like Voldemorts. Oops.
Harry stepped to one side away from the reflection in the mirror, and took a deep breath.
"Did you enjoy that?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Not exactly what I expected" admitted Harry, taking a few deep breaths. It had been pretty much absolutely the last thing he'd expected to see.
"Well, as we get older, we learn things about ourselves. Some of these new feelings can be quite confusing" said Professor Dumbledore.
Harry smiled weakly and mechanically. "Yes" said Harry "Something like that."
Harry felt a sudden tickling behind his eyeballs, and a faint headache started.
"Harry, did you put your name in the goblet of fire?" asked Professor Dumbledore, quite loudly.
"No, of course not" Harry denied, it had been convenient, yes, but not his idea.
"Harry, what have you done?" asked the Headmaster.
"Just what I had to" said Harry, avoiding looking at the man. Or the curs'ed mirror.
"What did you see, Harry?" asked Professor Dumbledore sternly.
"Tables covered in good food, and, and er, lot of beautiful women." said Harry quickly.
"Oh, you're growing up then" said Professor Dumbledore awkwardly. "Does that come as a surprise to you?"
"I saw my family last time" lied Harry, staring at the floor.
"Well, puberty comes to us all" said Professor Dumbledore.
"I don't want to be like that" said Harry sharply.
"Well, it's just a thing that happens Harry, it's nice being a child, but we all have to grow up some time" said Professor Dumbledore.