Author's Note: I'm alive! I'm alive! And I'm back at the computer! And my writer's block is gone! (mostly) And I can't believe how many reviews you wonderful people have given me! And thanks to all that reviewed The Boy Who Lived is Dead! Thank you so much! So… I'm back at college and my time is severely cut down thanks to lots of homework plus a full time job. So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to stay up late every night and work on this story because I want to finish it! So who cares if I'm tired at class in the morning? I'll get over it. It's only sleep after all. Yawns. Oh dear. Well here's part of chapter 5, just because I couldn't bear to make you wait any longer. I have decided not to add extra chapters like I did with four. Rather I will be adding to this chapter, so check back or you'll miss something! Anyway, here goes…
14
Chapter 5: Twelve
By: Amadeus
Ron Weasley was in shock. His lower lip began to tremble as his mouth moved without sound. Ginny fainted to the ground. The twins' eyes were wide with horror, but otherwise they were not moving. Hermione Granger was crying softly, her eyes already red. Harry merely continued to look down at the parchment. The black Dark Mark was burned into the paper, and below it was a number. Nothing but a cruel and horrible number, the most unlucky in every way. 13.
Suddenly Harry ran from the room. The silent Great Hall let him leave without hindering him. His eyes grew wet, and tears began to stream down his face as he ran. He didn't know where he was going, but he didn't care. He simply kept running without direction, occassionally turning down a different hall or leaping up or down a stairwell. After a while of running he sat down next to a statue, too exhausted to continue or even to remain standing, his eyes red and dry, all his tears long shed. His face was red as well, except for two streaks originating from his eyes, indicating the track of his tears.
He sat for several minutes, not really thinking about anything except pain and suffering, and his parents came to mind. And all of his friendless years at primary school came to mind. And his Hogwarts friends came to mind. Ron and Hermione…and Ginny. And Neville came to mind. And… Charlie came to mind. And then he heard footsteps coming down the hall. The feet walked in front of him, and turned towards him. He looked up from the feet to see the face of Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore slowly offered his hand to Harry, who accepted it, using it to help him stand. Only now did he realize that the statue next to him was the gargoyle which led to Dumbledore's office. Slowly they climbed the spiral stairs toward the place which had become so familiar to Harry in his past years at Hogwarts.
But until the end of last year, and this year, it had always held a sort of impenetrable happiness. Now it just seemed dark and gloomy, just another stone room with old portraits of dead people. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, looking older now than Harry had ever remembered. They sat in silence for a while, both gazing downward, before dumbledore looked up at Harry.
"I have asked Arthur and Molly Weasley and they have agreed to use the fidelius charm. The Weasleys right now are the Dark Lord's easiest target, unprotected as they are." He paused. Harry looked up into his eyes. There was no twinkle, nor any evidence that there had ever been. "They were wondering if you-"
"No." Harry said plainly, not letting the Headmaster of Hogwarts finish.
"They said that they trust you more than anyone else they know, and-"
"No."
"May I ask why not?"
"You have said yourself that I am currently the main target of Voldemort. I am the reason that the Weasleys are in as much danger as they are in. I am the reason that Charlie… I refuse to put them in any more danger than they are already in because of me."
"Harry, it is not your fault that-"
"Don't tell me that."
"You must know that-"
"I know nothing of the sort. Voldemort is after them because they are MY friends. They are MY family. YOU know nothing about it. GOODBYE!"
And with that Harry stormed out of Dumbledore's office, raging at the incompetence of one he had thought so wise for so long. But the wheels in Harry's head were turning very quickly in his moment of rashness, and he was formulating a plan, two plans in fact. He knew that Voldemort would come after him and his friends as long as he was alive. In his mind, this left him two options. The first was to go after the Dark Lord by himself, most likely getting himself killed. This was beginning to seem like a good plan (believe it or not) until he realized that the Dark Lord would be likely afterwards to come after his friends anyway.
The second option, which Harry quickly and rashly determined was the best, was to make sure he had NO friends and NOone that he cared about, and to make sure everyone knew it. Harry Potter was drunk intoxicated by his anger and grief, and, as many of you know, intoxication leads to bad decisions. This is one that Harry would regret for years and years to come (if he lived that long).
He had run straight to the portrait of the fat lady without even knowing that he was going anywhere, not to mention where. Giving the password ("Herbology" (Neville's favorite subject)) Harry stepped into the usually joyous and comforting common room already regretting what he was going to do to his relationships with Ron, Hermione, Ginny…he paused. Ginny… could he do this? The answer was yes. He had to. It was his only chance to save them.
The entire common room turned to face him as he entered, and any noise (mostly whimpers and cries) that could be heard before Harry had been seen swiftly ceased. Harry took one quick look around the room. The Weasleys were in one corner of the room, accompanied by Hermione, Lee Jordan, and the girls of the Gryffindor quidditch team (Harry had noticed that Fred, Lee, and George had spent quite a bit of time with them, though he didn't really know who was paired with who). He did not approach them. Rather he gave the whole common room a bit of a shock as he gave a look of anger much greater than he felt, and stormed up to his dormitory. He was far out of hearing range when any more sounds were made in the common room.
When the rest of the fifth year Gryffindor boys came up to the tower they saw that Harry's drapes were closed. None of them dared to disturb him, not even wrong, though late at night though it was, they heard a soft hissing through the covers. Harry was speaking with Salazar, who he felt was the only one he could really talk to, now that he had to hide from and, if he could, turn on his friends.
"Harry Potter looks upset." Hissed Salazar.
"Harry Po- I am a bit upset. Voldemort is absolutely ruining my life. He is killing everyone I care about, and there's nothing I can do. I don't think I was ever meant to have any friends." Harry was quite depressed. The only one he could speak to about his problems was a snake, and snakes are far from the most comforting and cuddly creatures.
"Why is there nothing Harry Potter can do?" asked the small garden snake.
"The Dark Lord is the most powerful wizard in the world, Salazar, I doubt even Dumbledore is as powerful. And I, I am fifteen years old, and only an average student at that. I have been extremely lucky to escape from him as may times as I have. I will not be so lucky forever. And now even my luck is doing me no good. He is no longer coming after me directly. He is doing far worse, and, I think, is doing more damage than Avada Kedavra could ever do. I can't protect them, Salazar, I'm only fifteen. What can I do?"
"I do not know, Harry Potter, what can you do?" the snake returned.
"Voldemort is going after my friends, he is going after the people I care about. Isn't the answer logical?"
"It is, Harry Potter. If Harry Potter cares for no one, then no one will be hurt." The snake smoothly fed him his own logic. It comforted Harry to know that he had made the "sensible and logical" choice to push away his friends. But he still questioned his own ability to do so.
Author's Note: AS I said check back tomorrow and there WILL be more. Please review.