Deadly Secrets
Chapter 3
The Truth Hurts
Hermione was leaning against the wall, looking at him. She had seen it all, probably had been watching him for two hours.
"Harry, is You Know Who, is he still alive? Tell me," she asked, almost begged. She walked over and sat next to him, putting her arm around him.
"Yes," he said quietly, "He is still alive."
"How, you killed him, seventh year. I remember, you said so to the…" she paused. "Harry, did you lie to them?"
…Harry lifted his wand and pointed it at the pitiful wretch that was Voldemort. He had finally won, and now he was going to finish the job. Voldemort was panting in pain. Harry had hurt him. Good, he thought, now he can go back to hell where he came from.
Voldemort looked up at him, those pitiless red eyes full of anger and hatred toward him. Harry felt the same way about Voldemort. Who cares if the curse is forbidden, Harry thought, holding his wand, pointing it at Voldemort's face, that snake like face.
"Avada Ker…" Harry began loudly. But then, Voldemort vanished with a cloud of green smoke.
"I'll kill you someday…" Those words echoed off of the walls. Over and over, Harry heard them in his mind.
His thoughts were racing. How did he do that? He could barely lift his wand, he had no strength for Disapparation. He was still alive. Shit…
"Yes," he said finally. That night. He had blocked it out of his mind for a long time, years. "Yes, I lied to them. I wanted it to be over."
"Harry…that means…he's out there, ready to kill again?" Hermione was panicking now, just like he was.
"He wants to kill me," Harry said quietly. Great, put more cheerful thoughts in her head. Stupid choice that was.
"Harry, what are we going to do?" He looked at her. She was pale, as pale as a ghost. Beautiful, but very pale. "If anything happened to you…Harry, I love you."
"Hermione, he hasn't succeeded yet, what makes you think he'll do it now?" Harry said, sort of smiling now.
"What do we tell James?" Hermione asked. Good question, Harry thought. But, the answer was simple.
"Nothing." Harry said.
"But, Harry I…"
"Nothing," Harry repeated. And that was final. James was just a kid; he didn't need to worry. Then again, Harry had to worry about Voldemort at that age, and that was hell. Why make him worry?
"If you're sure," Hermione sighed. "He should know though."
"Later. For now, we say nothing. Understand?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Hermione said quietly. She then got up, looked down at Harry, and then walked into the kitchen, shaking. Harry got up and followed her. He had to comfort her.
James watched his dad walk into the kitchen after his mum. He had heard it all, every word. Well, if they weren't going to tell him anything, why should he tell them anything? But, on the other hand, his life and his families might be at risk. The one night he ever came down stairs for water, he hears this. Well, at least he knew.
James quietly walked up the stairs, opened his door and went into his room. It was decorated with Quidditch posters, banners and any other Quidditch thing he could find.
James slipped into bed and stared at the ceiling. Voldemort, alive? And also, why wouldn't his mum say his name? He thought people weren't afraid of Voldemort anymore. Weird, that she of all people would be afraid, she faced Voldemort before, helped his dad face him. Maybe that's why she was afraid, she had seen his true power and terror. But was he really that powerful?
Questions like those came through James's mind that night, he couldn't sleep at all. In the morning, he was so tired that he almost fell asleep at breakfast, and after, he skipped Quidditch practice. He slept all of that Saturday, so Hermione canceled dinner with Sirius. The whole family was tired and worried, so she had good reason. James watched his dad go into the parlor to check the fire and his mum keeping in eye out the window. It was so disgraceful to see the famous Harry Potter so edgy. And the next couple of weeks would be the same, James thought. He was right. The Potter house was quiet and preoccupied. Good thing his mum only thought that he was worried for them and didn't know the truth about things. Sure, he was worried for them, but he was more worried about Voldemort. Could he be a target as well as his dad? Could he and his parents be killed?
Chapter 3
The Truth Hurts
Hermione was leaning against the wall, looking at him. She had seen it all, probably had been watching him for two hours.
"Harry, is You Know Who, is he still alive? Tell me," she asked, almost begged. She walked over and sat next to him, putting her arm around him.
"Yes," he said quietly, "He is still alive."
"How, you killed him, seventh year. I remember, you said so to the…" she paused. "Harry, did you lie to them?"
…Harry lifted his wand and pointed it at the pitiful wretch that was Voldemort. He had finally won, and now he was going to finish the job. Voldemort was panting in pain. Harry had hurt him. Good, he thought, now he can go back to hell where he came from.
Voldemort looked up at him, those pitiless red eyes full of anger and hatred toward him. Harry felt the same way about Voldemort. Who cares if the curse is forbidden, Harry thought, holding his wand, pointing it at Voldemort's face, that snake like face.
"Avada Ker…" Harry began loudly. But then, Voldemort vanished with a cloud of green smoke.
"I'll kill you someday…" Those words echoed off of the walls. Over and over, Harry heard them in his mind.
His thoughts were racing. How did he do that? He could barely lift his wand, he had no strength for Disapparation. He was still alive. Shit…
"Yes," he said finally. That night. He had blocked it out of his mind for a long time, years. "Yes, I lied to them. I wanted it to be over."
"Harry…that means…he's out there, ready to kill again?" Hermione was panicking now, just like he was.
"He wants to kill me," Harry said quietly. Great, put more cheerful thoughts in her head. Stupid choice that was.
"Harry, what are we going to do?" He looked at her. She was pale, as pale as a ghost. Beautiful, but very pale. "If anything happened to you…Harry, I love you."
"Hermione, he hasn't succeeded yet, what makes you think he'll do it now?" Harry said, sort of smiling now.
"What do we tell James?" Hermione asked. Good question, Harry thought. But, the answer was simple.
"Nothing." Harry said.
"But, Harry I…"
"Nothing," Harry repeated. And that was final. James was just a kid; he didn't need to worry. Then again, Harry had to worry about Voldemort at that age, and that was hell. Why make him worry?
"If you're sure," Hermione sighed. "He should know though."
"Later. For now, we say nothing. Understand?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Hermione said quietly. She then got up, looked down at Harry, and then walked into the kitchen, shaking. Harry got up and followed her. He had to comfort her.
James watched his dad walk into the kitchen after his mum. He had heard it all, every word. Well, if they weren't going to tell him anything, why should he tell them anything? But, on the other hand, his life and his families might be at risk. The one night he ever came down stairs for water, he hears this. Well, at least he knew.
James quietly walked up the stairs, opened his door and went into his room. It was decorated with Quidditch posters, banners and any other Quidditch thing he could find.
James slipped into bed and stared at the ceiling. Voldemort, alive? And also, why wouldn't his mum say his name? He thought people weren't afraid of Voldemort anymore. Weird, that she of all people would be afraid, she faced Voldemort before, helped his dad face him. Maybe that's why she was afraid, she had seen his true power and terror. But was he really that powerful?
Questions like those came through James's mind that night, he couldn't sleep at all. In the morning, he was so tired that he almost fell asleep at breakfast, and after, he skipped Quidditch practice. He slept all of that Saturday, so Hermione canceled dinner with Sirius. The whole family was tired and worried, so she had good reason. James watched his dad go into the parlor to check the fire and his mum keeping in eye out the window. It was so disgraceful to see the famous Harry Potter so edgy. And the next couple of weeks would be the same, James thought. He was right. The Potter house was quiet and preoccupied. Good thing his mum only thought that he was worried for them and didn't know the truth about things. Sure, he was worried for them, but he was more worried about Voldemort. Could he be a target as well as his dad? Could he and his parents be killed?