Chapter 17

The Broken Stone

At tryouts the next afternoon Harry tried to put everything out of his mind and concentrate on the game. Beside him stood Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch. They watched every single second year tried out for the team. None of them were very good.

Ginny stood staring off into space. She didn't hear when McGonagall called her. Harry shook her arm, his eyes apologizing for the reason she was so distracted. "Show them what you did yesterday, Rose."

She nodded and took off in the air where the girls waited to try and score on her. Ginny did well, but Harry knew if she had been less distracted, she would have done better.

Only one other person tied with Ginny. A boy named Nick who was in Fred and George's year.

"What do you think Harry?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"People will call it favoritism, but I have two points to bring to attention. Rose is, distracted this morning. That's my fault, and she hasn't had enough time to recover from yesterday yet. I practiced with her yesterday, and she is better then that."

Professor McGonagall nodded. She had watched them, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "Another point is if we take Nick on the team, in two years, all of them but me will leave. They are all in the same year, and that would leave me to train a whole new team. I don't know if that would be doable."

McGonagall's eyes widened. "I hadn't thought of that. You are right, on both points. And it isn't favoritism, so don't beat yourself up about it."

She parted from their little huddle and they walked over to the other students. Most of the house was there to watch.

"I'd like to congratulate Miss. Weasley on making the team." A roar rang out, and Ginny grinned and blushed. She walked over and offered Nick her hand, who smiled at her and shook it. Fred and George then lifted her in the air, and proceeded to carry her all the way back to the common room for the celebration.

Harry thought it would be polite as Captain to not attend this celebration. So he sent Sally along with a message to Ginny of how proud he was, collected his sword from his dorm, and walked off to the clearing. Harry was alone as he lay down in the cool autumn grass.

'It's been just over a week now, and so much has already happened. My life feels like some sort of soap opera. Children are disappearing. Another half blood this morning. I can't help them. The sword let Ginny hold it. The sword chose me. Why? And why then? The children...'

A thought came to him, and he stood up to head for Dumbledore's office. He stood outside the gargoyle. It felt wrong to just figure out the password and go up there. Suddenly, it stepped aside for him. He supposed that meant Dumbledore knew he was there and wanted him to come up.

The moving staircase carried him up, and he stepped off and knocked on the door.

"Come in, Harry."

Harry walked into Dumbledore's office. Fawlks sung a note to him, and he smiled at him. Then Harry looked at Professor Dumbledore. He made no move to sit down.

"Professor, the day we went down into the chamber, did a child go missing?"

Dumbledore looked startled by the question but nodded slowly. "Yes in fact. The first very strong one of all of them."

Harry reached over his shoulder and pulled out the sword, turning it while he studied it. Dumbledore's eyes went wide, then narrowed. "I'd like a list, of all the kids that went missing." Harry never looked away from the sword.

Dumbledore slid a piece of parchment to the edge of his desk.

"Once again, Mr. Potter, you are a step ahead of me."

Harry shoved the sword back into the sheath, grabbed the parchment, and walked out of the room. Dumbledore sighed as he watched him go.

Harry didn't go back to the clearing. He instead stopped by the lake. He read the names, the ages, the dates they had gone missing, the places, and then the date when the name had been crossed off. There was only one or days between the first few, but on the day he had claimed the sword, the boy Nathan had lasted a full five days before his name had been scratched off.

Anger swelled in Harry's chest like fire. He grabbed the sword, and started practicing. He forgot the world around him, putting all of his anger into the sword. He worked harder at it then he ever had before, his anger driving him.

After twenty minutes of constant motion, Harry began to speak. "You will be defeated Voldemort. You will not be allowed to return. I will stop you." Suddenly, hitting air wasn't enough. Without realizing what he was doing, he plunged the sword down in a very large rock right to the hilt. It hardly made a sound, and Harry suddenly stopped.

The anger was not gone, but it had subsided to a tiny light inside him, rather then the engulfing flame it had been. Only then did Harry realize he had a very large audience.

The students and staff alike stared at him with a mixture of fear, admiration, and amazement. Harry hastily pulled the sword out of the stone. The rock split right down the middle and fell apart in two pieces.

"If I had realized all of you were there," Harry said lifting the sword to study the blade, "I would have stopped." Nobody responded.

The blade didn't have a scratch. He touch the tip, then jerked his finger back and sucked on it where it was cut. "It didn't even dull it," he muttered. Bending down, he picked up a stone the size of his hand. Holding above the blade edge, he dropped it. It didn't even jerk the sword, and it landed on the ground in two pieces.

Harry shook his head. He walked to the rock that had split. With and effort because it was so huge, he turned it so that the flat side of one half faced him. His back was to the people that still watched him. Using the sword, he carved on the stone.

He turned to the other stone, and carved something there too. Then his sheathed the sword, and walked away, the crowd parting to let him pass.

Ginny was the first one to leave the crowd and walk up to the halved stones to read what it said.

In memory of

John age five

Sarah age six

Margaret age seven

Isaac age five

Wendy age four

Linda age six

Randy age five

Kara age two

Nathan age seven

Jamie age four

David age five

My Promise

You will pay.

Lord Voldemort.

I swear to it if I have to hunt you until my dying day,

and curse you with my last breath.

You will pay.

Harry James Potter

Bellow his name was a lightning bolt, and it glowed. It glowed a scarlet red. She gestured for the others to come over. It's glowing didn't fade, and Ginny wondered if it ever would.

The others came up behind her. Even Malfoy was silent. Snape read the words quickly and then stared at the lightning bolt. Hermione turned and cried on Ron's chest.

"Two, Ron! The one was only two years old! She was a baby, and she's dead."

Ginny fell to her knees, and prayed. She begged with whatever was out there, that everything would turn out alright. She didn't realize it was dark now. She didn't notice most people left, others came out, wanting to see what everybody was talking about, and then left too. Soon it was only her and one other person.

"It will turn out alright." A voice said awkwardly behind her.

Ginny recognized the voice and was too upset to be surprised. "Nothing will bring these children back from the dead, Professor Snape," Ginny said quietly.

"Potter will get him. He always does. This time won't be different. It will be alright in the end."

"Will it end, Professor? Will Harry ever really kill him? Will we spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders? Not knowing who to trust, not knowing who is watching, what their motives are, will it be like that forever?"

"No." She felt his hand on her shoulder. "It won't."

"I wish I could believe you, Professor, I really do. I'm losing my hope."

"No," he said sternly. "That is your greatest weapon against him. Lose it, and you've lost."

Ginny stood and faced him, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Thank you."

"Miss. Weasley, if you ever say-"

"Don't worry," she interrupted him with a sad smile. "I won't tell anybody that you aren't a heartless bastard. Keep up your act. But beating other people away, won't bring her back." She turned and started to walk away, then stopped and turned.

"Look where you're standing."

Snape looked down at the Phoenix Flower in the moonlight. "How... Never mind, I don't want to know how."

"I'm observant, Professor. Every potion that uses it, we use a substitute, and if there is no substitute, we skip the potion. I figured out anything that meant that much to you would have to do with her." She turned again, and didn't stop this time.

Nobody spoke to Harry the next morning. All laughter in the halls was absent, and when he was around people hushed their voice. As he walked into Divination, he didn't thing anything that happened would make him feel any worse.

Professor Trelawney emerged from the depths of her room, bringing with her the smell of the perfume that thankfully wasn't burning quite yet. It wasn't cold enough for a fire.

She sat by her crystal ball, gazing into it. "Your arrival to my class room seems to have brought a number of images. I see, a boy, no a man. He holds a sword. There are more figures behind him, smaller, younger. Children. He is protecting them. He is bleeding. I think he is dying. Ahh, the image is gone."

Her large eyes turned up to Harry. "That man was you, dear."

Harry stood up, and the class watched with held breath. Not even the girls looked eager to hear Professor Trelawney continue. "Those children," he said in a voice that made her eyes go wider yet, "are dead. No matter how I protect them, they are dead. And I can't protect the ones that are alive, because if I leave here, then the students may start disappearing."

He shut his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, trying to put a hold on the anger. The class gasped as the air before him glowed suddenly scarlet and the sword appeared floating in the air. Harry opened his eyes and looked at it.

"You," he said to the sword "are just full of surprises. Are you going to start appearing every time I get angry?"

Something spoke in the minds of every person present. There was no sound, because there was no voice, only words.

'Anger leads to hate. You, Harry Potter, are not capable of hating. That anger will destroy you, if it is not let out.'

Harry looked at the sword. He reached out and grabbed it, swinging it into place on his back. He opened the window beside him and climbed up on the sill.

"Harry don't!" Ron cried, but Harry jumped. Ron rushed to the window to see him only a few feet below. The rest of the class, including the Professor, crowded around the window.

"I don't think I'll be attending this class anymore." With that he dropped to the edge of the tower roof, hanging by one arm. Swinging, he jumped over to a section of roof that had a ledge across it which was about four inches thick. He stood on that ledge and unsheathed the sword.

"He isn't," Dean said beside Ron.

"He is," Ron answered. Harry began stabbing and slashing at the air. Beating at it as though it had done something wrong. They gasped as he jumped for a turn, and as he backed up to the very edge. Then he did a running charge with a flip, and landed with only one foot, hanging half off the building.

Ron let out a sigh as he set down the other foot and sheathed the sword. Harry sat down cross legged on the ledge, staring out at the forest, lost in his own thoughts.

(A/N: Okay, my new Full Moon rule is in effect, though this is coming a few hours early because I may not get a chance to post tomorrow, and better early then late. I hope you all forgive me for the deaths in here. Please do. The I'll be able to forgive myself. Review, give me advice. Oh, and a special not to "Samanthe Que ()" THIS IS THE FORTH YEAR!!! Nothing that happens in the real forth book applies here!!!!!!!! I AM SO TIRED OF REMINDING PEOPLE! I started this BEFORE THE FORTH BOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry.)