Harry Potter & the Dark Lord

Harry Potter & the Dark Lord – Chapter 21

Disclaimer: They belong to J.K. Rowling (as if you didn't know).

A/N: Thanks for the sweet reviews. Really. I mean it. Here's the chapter quote (It really should've gone with the Christmas chapter. Oh well.)

"Will you look at this? I've got some presents!"

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ron…

J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (or Philosopher's Stone, depending on where you are)

Cho's sobs echoed in the headmaster's office. Harry sat frozen in his seat, staring into the older girl's trembling face. No one spoke for a few minutes, giving Cho a chance to calm herself and regain her composure.

"I'm, I'm sorry," Cho began, vainly trying to wipe the tears from her eyes. She reached for her teacup, which Dumbledore had quietly refilled with the soothing liquid. Whatever magic was in the tea did its job, gradually pacifying Cho's wrecked nerves. She took a deep, rattling breath, staring at the twisted handkerchief in her hand.

Dumbledore eyed her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "How long have you been hearing Cedric's voice, Miss Chang?"

Cho's head shot up in shock, and she stared at the headmaster for a moment.

"How…" she began, her eyes questioning. A hint of a smile played at the corner of Dumbledore's lips, and he simply nodded at Cho encouragingly, urging her to continue.

"I've been dreaming of Cedric since he died," Cho said quietly, her dark eyes looking through Dumbledore. "Just about us…the things we used to do. But, ever since the," Cho paused, searching for the word, "trance…well, my dreams have changed."

"How so?" Dumbledore asked.

"They're not about Cedric anymore," Cho said. "But he's still there. I feel him beside me. It's like I'm a spectator, and Cedric is leading me through my dreams, showing me what's happening."

Harry felt himself tense as he heard Cedric's name. He clenched his fists at his side, trying to squelch the feelings of guilt that were rising in his chest. He struggled to bury the thoughts that were rushing to the front of his mind, as an icy coldness crawled through his veins, making his stomach twist and squirm. The coldness was suddenly replaced by warmth, and Harry sat dumbfounded, not comprehending. His mind cleared as he realized what had caused the change – Ginny had taken his hand into hers; her eyes were now trained on his face, watching him intently. Harry met her gaze briefly, but the rush of heat he felt forced him to turn away. He returned his attention to Cho.

"I see a group of people – Death Eaters, but they're not doing anything. Just talking, planning. I can feel Cedric by my side as I watch."

"Cedric has never spoken to you before?" Dumbledore asked.

Cho shook her head. "No, not exactly. I could almost hear him in my mind, but he never spoke. Until today."

"And he told you to warn Harry," Ginny spoke, her voice flat.

Cho looked in Ginny's direction, and nodded slowly. "I haven't dreamt of You-Know-Who, since the trance, I guess. I remember trying to wake up – I didn't want to see it. But Cedric kept me there. He said I had to see it. When I finally woke up, I ran right into you. And I heard Cedric - he wanted me to tell you what I saw, to warn you."

"I'm very glad you came to me, Miss Chang," Dumbledore said. "You needn't face this alone."

"But sir," Cho asked beseechingly. "I don't understand. Cedric is – well, he's gone. He's not a ghost, is he? How can I hear him?"

Dumbledore sat silently stroking his beard, his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. "No, I think it's safe to say Mr. Diggory is not a ghost. We would have known long ago if he was. But just because someone has died does not mean they have completely left our world. Sometimes, if the need is urgent enough, and if there is a strong enough connection, the paths of our worlds will meet."

The headmaster looked kindly upon Cho's confused face. "My best guess is that Cedric has a strong connection with Voldemort, through his death. That's why Voldemort has appeared in your dreams. Cedric appears to be using the strong bond the two of you shared to send you a message. His death was a terrible, senseless thing. By trying to prevent any further tragedy, he will bring a sense of purpose to the loss of his life."

Cho's lip had begun trembling, and tears threatened to overflow once again. "So, it was Cedric," she whispered.

"Some form of him, yes. Come back to right a wrong. He will likely reappear until he has accomplished what he has come to do. Are you prepared for that, Miss Chang?"

Cho nodded hesitantly. "Yes, I think so."

"You need only ask, and any of the staff, myself included, will be here to help you through this in any way we can," Dumbledore offered, watching Cho closely. Seeing her nod, his gaze relaxed and he continued, "Now, might I suggest you go see Madam Pomfrey? She can give you something to help you sleep."

"Yes, sir. Thank you," Cho answered, smiling slightly for the first time since Harry had seen her that day.

Harry rose to follow Cho out of the office, but he paused as the headmaster called to him.

"Harry, if you'll sit a moment. Ginny can escort Miss Chang to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling as he watched Ginny give Harry's hand one last squeeze before finally letting go. Harry watched silently as Ginny followed Cho out of Dumbledore's office.

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as Dumbledore's steady gaze fell upon him. "Harry," Dumbledore started quietly. "Do you want to talk about anything you heard here? Any questions I can answer for you?"

Harry felt almost as if Dumbledore could see what he was thinking. His mind was racing, full of unanswered questions. Why would Cedric want to warn him, when he was the one responsible for his death? Why would he want to help him? The only reason Cedric had died was because he was with Harry. And now, now – Harry's thoughts turned panicky – now Ginny would be put in harm's way, all because of him. He wouldn't let it happen again. He couldn't.

"Sir, what Cho saw – it can be changed, can't it? I mean, it doesn't have to happen that way, does it?"

Dumbledore eyed him keenly, choosing his words carefully. "The future is never set in stone Harry. We all have free will. Our choices determine not only the person we become, but also what will becomes of us."

Harry nodded, understanding. No one else had to die, or get hurt, just because of him. He could stop it.

"Harry! Are you all right?" Ginny rushed up to him as he climbed through the portrait hole, looking anxiously at his drawn face, with Ron and Hermione right behind her.

"Ginny told us what happened, Harry," Hermione explained, following Harry as he made his way to the common room fire. He didn't acknowledge any of them as he sat in the overstuffed armchair, removing his glasses so he could rub his eyes.

"Who would've thought? Cho of all people," Ron said, shaking his head in disbelief as he fell into the chair next to Harry. "I guess she's not as brainless as I thought."

"Well, of course she's not brainless, Ron," Hermione replied, clearly annoyed. She sat next to Ron, Crookshanks jumping onto her lap and making himself comfortable. "She is in Ravenclaw after all. Honestly, just because she fancied Lockhart when she was young and naïve – it doesn't make her any less intelligent."

Ron snorted. "Oh, is that what's bothering you?" he asked in mock surprise, feigning innocence. "And here I thought it was because you were proven wrong about Divination."

Hermione did not take kindly to Ron's teasing. "I have not been proven wrong."

"Come on, Hermione," Ron grinned, reaching over to put his arm around her. "You know I'm right. Just admit it – it won't hurt a bit. I told you there was something to it. Even Dumbledore agrees."

Hermione pushed Ron's arm off, her cheeks glowing as she gaped at him, momentarily lost for words. Crookshanks stood on Hermione's knees, bearing his sharp teeth at Ron. "You are not right," she sputtered. "What happened had everything to do with Cho missing Cedric and nothing to do with fuzzy divination! There's no proof any of what she said has or will happen! Ginny, maybe you had better explain what Dumbledore said to Ron again. Obviously he wasn't paying attention." Hermione sniffed, crossing her arms and turning her back on her boyfriend.

"Ron, will you drop it just this once?" Ginny pleaded. "I'm sure Harry doesn't need to hear this right now."

Harry glanced up at the mention of his name. He had only been half listening to the argument; instead he was going over the conversation he had had with Dumbledore. He gave Ginny a weak smile. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I was just thinking."

"Don't worry, Harry," Ginny said softly. "You don't have to face it alone. We're in this together."

Harry's head shot up. "We're not doing anything. Voldemort wants me – I'm not letting you get hurt."

Ginny stared at him as if he had three heads. "But…" she began.

"No buts. You're going to stop researching anything having to do with Voldemort. I don't want you involved. I'll handle it on my own," Harry stated, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Harry, don't be thick. Of course we're gonna help you," Ron said irritably, running his fingers through his uncombed red hair restlessly.

Harry stared at his friend incredulously. "Ron, you knocked Neville out cos you thought he hurt Ginny's feelings, and now you're willing to just let her walk to her death? Great time to give up your overprotective big brother act," he finished crossly.

"What are you on about? What death?" Ron looked at his little sister in confusion, but she avoided his gaze. "Ginny said Cho dreamt about Death Eaters plotting to hurt you…what does any of it have to do with her?

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all trained their eyes on Ginny now, who was looking around the room uneasily. Crookshanks deftly leapt to the floor, walking over to Ginny and climbing protectively into her lap. He fixed his eyes on the humans, daring them to approach.

"Ginny?" Hermione said softly, reaching over to pat her friend's arm comfortingly. "Is there, er, something you haven't told us?"

Ginny just shook her head, her brown eyes pleading with Harry to keep silent as she continued to avoid Ron's penetrating gaze. But Harry wasn't going to play along.

"Fine," Harry said stoutly. "If you won't tell them, I will."

"Harry, no!" Ginny pleaded, watching her brother fearfully from the corner of her eye. She pressed Crookshanks to her chest, looking at the others over the cat's ginger fur. "There's no point in getting everyone upset. We don't know that it'll happen that way."

"What don't we know?" Ron shouted. "What will happen what way? And why should I be upset? If my sister's life is in some kind of danger, than don't you think she and my best friend ought to tell me?"

"Ron, keep your voice down," Hermione hissed. "People are watching." Sure enough, the few Gryffindor students in the common room were beginning to stare. The group sat quietly for a minute, until everyone eventually lost interest and went back to their own conversations. Hermione turned to Harry and Ginny, her voice low, yet determined. "Now one of you tell us what's going on. As much as I hate to admit it, Ron's right – if someone's in trouble, you shouldn't keep it from us!"

Seeing Harry's determined face, Ginny gave in and relayed what they had heard in Dumbledore's office, glossing over the bits that involved her. Harry, though, jumped in with all the details she left out, emphasizing that Cedric had purposely come back to warn them. Once they had finished, a very pale Ron looked at Ginny as if there were a giant spider sneaking up behind her, ready to attack. Ginny was staring furiously at Harry, her eyes narrowed. Her grip around Crookshanks tightened until the cat growled in protest, escaping to the safety of Hermione's lap.

Hermione had been listening in silence. "I don't know Harry," she began hesitantly, her tone dubious. "I mean, Divination is a very imprecise branch of magic. It's not very likely that any of that will happen. We should be cautious, of course, but there's no need for undue alarm. I'm sure Ginny'll be just fine."

"You. Weren't. There," Harry said each word slowly, his voice getting higher. "Dumbledore believes Cho! It's just like the vision Professor Trelawney had, and that came true, didn't it? Wormtail brought Voldemort back, just like she saw!"

"Pure coincidence," Hermione sniffed. Harry looked at her in disbelief. She had to see how dangerous it was for Ginny to get involved – he had to keep her safe. If someone else got hurt because of him, especially Ginny…

"Harry's right," Ron said, his voice deadly calm and his face drained of blood. "This doesn't involve you, so don't go taking stupid chances."

"This doesn't involve me?" Ginny's tone was very cold, and she stood up in front of her seated brother so their eyes were nearly level. "You may have forgotten what happened during my first year, but I haven't. You have no idea what's it's like to have him in your mind, controlling everything you do. He's not a normal wizard. He, he doesn't think like a regular person – he has no pity, no soul. If he takes over, it'll be…it'll be worse than you could imagine. I just can't let that happen!"

Ron stared his only sister, dumbfounded for a moment. "I may not know exactly what happened, but I do know what I felt when I thought you were dead. It's rather selfish of you to want to put us through that again. And getting yourself killed is a great way to repay Harry for risking his life to save you."

Harry froze. He had heard something very similar coming from Professor Lupin, when he was caught sneaking to Hogsmeade. He had felt guilty at the time, but only now did he fully realize what Lupin was trying to say. Here he was doing everything in his power to protect his friends, and yet they insisted on putting themselves in danger.

Harry and Ron sat motionless, staring at Ginny, whose cheeks were glowing in anger. Hermione shifted uncomfortably next to Ron, stroking her cat and biting her lip.

"You know," Hermione suddenly said, brightening. "We don't really need to worry about this at all. I mean, none of us are allowed out of the castle without a professor."

Ron gave a sarcastic laugh. "Since when has that ever been a problem for the invisible boy?"

"Harry, you wouldn't!" Hermione exclaimed. "Dumbledore'll be sure to find out if you try to sneak out!"

"Yeah, well, I'll do what I have to do," Harry said seriously. He glanced up at Ginny, a small smile threatening to escape. "Of course, you won't be able to follow me then, will you?"

"Don't get snippy with me, Harry. If you try to go after him by yourself, I'll – I'll tell Professor McGonagall!" Ginny squeaked, looking as if she were about to cry.

"Hey, since when did you become a snitch, Ginny?" George grinned at his little sister. He and Fred had just come down from their dormitory, carrying an armload of what looked like dead rats.

"What's going on?" Fred asked, pulling on Ginny's ponytail affectionately as he dropped the rats on the table.

A tear clung threateningly on Ginny's eyelashes, but she kept her gaze fixed on Harry and Ron. "Ask them," she said tonelessly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to head up to bed. I don't want to stay where I'm treated like a child." With that, Ginny turned and headed quickly towards the staircase.

"Ginny, wait," Harry sighed; he jumped up from his seat and turned just in time to see a flash of red hair disappear up the stairwell. "Great," he mumbled.

"Let her go," Ron advised. He added quietly, "Don't worry, just let her get a good night's sleep. She'll come around."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but shut it quickly when she saw Harry's anguished expression. Fred and George exchanged curious glances.

"What was that about?" George asked nonchalantly, sitting down and arranging the dead rats into neat piles.

"I'll tell you later," Ron said shortly. "What's with the dead rats?" Crookshanks jumped from Hermione's lap onto the table and sniffed the still creatures suspiciously. After a moment, he turned his nose up at the twins and walked away, his tail swaying indignantly

"Oh, just breakfast," Fred answered, a mischievous grin on his face. Hermione leaned over Ron to get a closer look at what the twins had brought down. She gingerly picked up one of the rats by its tail, and held it up close to her face.

"These aren't real!" Hermione laughed throwing the fake rat at Ron.

"Yeah," George agreed, his eyes glinting. "But they sure look real, don't they?"

"And just what do you plan to do with a bunch of fake rats? Make more wands?" Ron asked, lifting the rat from his lap disdainfully and tossing it back on the pile.

"We told you," Fred said innocently. "It's breakfast."

George's grin widened. "For a certain slimy house, at least."

Hermione frowned. "Your mother will be furious if she finds out! And think of the points you can lose for Gryffindor! How are you going to manage this without getting caught?"

"I'm sure they've got an airtight plan," Harry added, his mood finally lightening. "Care to share it?"

"Now, Harry, you know a master must never reveal his secrets," George scolded.

Fred grinned. "Let's just say that when the Slytherins go down for breakfast tomorrow morning, instead of their usual bacon and eggs they'll get a special treat – Scabbers á la Weasley. It helps to have friends in low places."

"Such as the kitchens?" Harry asked, laughing. Hermione scowled at him.

"You catch on quick," George complemented Harry. "What do you think, Fred? Is he nearly worthy of becoming an honorary Weasley?"

"I don't know," Fred rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He looked up grinning, "He has been hanging around Ron an awful lot; the Weasley magic just might be rubbing off."

The pandemonium over the unexpected breakfast treat was nearly forgotten by the time of the Gryffindor Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. Fred and George had avoided detention since there was no proof that they were responsible, although Professor Snape eyed them with malice. However, everyone's attention wasn't focused on Quidditch alone – Voldemort had not remained silent for long. A series of attacks in both the wizard and Muggle communities had left everyone quiet and tense. Harry heard very little from Sirius or Remus during this time, any correspondence brief and containing no information in case it fell into the wrong hands. Harry's scar had began to hurt slightly more than usual, so he knew Voldemort was growing stronger – Dumbledore had confirmed this when Harry spoke to him. Most of the school was very jumpy, any laughter sounding unnatural and forced. In Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom in particular was subdued – Hannah Abbot's father was among the casualties.

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table attempting to eat breakfast the day of the Quidditch match. There was nothing wrong with his appetite, but he was constantly being interrupted by Neville, who was torn between cheering for Gryffindor and staying behind out of loyalty to Hannah.

"What should I do?" Neville whined. "I really want to see the match, but it would be wrong, wouldn't it?"

"Honestly, Neville," Ron said, swallowing the last bit of his toast. "Hannah's not even at Hogwarts right now, is she?"

"No," Neville conceded, "she went home for the funeral. I would've gone too, but my grandmother didn't want me leaving Hogwarts."

"I don't see what the problem is then," said Harry. "You should go."

Hermione shook her head at the boys' ignorance. "He obviously feels he would be disloyal to Hannah if he roots against her house. I think it's rather romantic."

"You would find something like that romantic," Ron sniggered.

"Well, maybe you should take some notes from Neville," Hermione said quickly, looking slightly annoyed. "It wouldn't hurt you to be a little more romantic."

Harry rolled his eyes, trying to finish his breakfast while Ron and Hermione argued. He sat up straight when he saw Ginny enter the Great Hall. She had given him the silent treatment after the Cho incident, but had resumed speaking to him after just a couple of days. However, she was oddly polite, her words almost perfunctory. This bothered Harry to no end, but they had reached a sort of truce, wordlessly agreeing not to mention Cho's dream or Voldemort in front of the other. Ginny did, however, keep a close eye on Harry – he felt her watching him whenever he and Ron spoke, no doubt to make sure they weren't plotting any scheme. Harry had been discussing any news of Voldemort he heard with Ron; he kept silent in front of Hermione, though, suspecting she would tell Ginny.

"Good morning," Ginny said, appearing to be in somewhat of a good mood. She sat next to Neville, giving him a sympathetic smile and briefly squeezing his hand. "How's Hannah holding up?"

"As well as can be expected. I got an owl from her last night," Neville said, eager to talk about his girlfriend. "She's been really brave, you know. I reckon the Sorting Hat must've had a hard time choosing between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff for her."

"Of course she's brave, Neville," Ginny said. "And it's very sweet of you to want to protect her, but she's a big girl. She can take care of herself." Ginny looked at Harry pointedly as she said this.

Neville took the opportunity to ask for Ginny's advice. "Ginny, what do you think I should do? Is it wrong for me to go to the match? I mean, since it's against Hufflepuff."

Ginny bit her lip for a minute before responding. "What if you go to the match but don't cheer for anyone? You know, just a casual observer. You can write everything down so you can owl Hannah with all the details. I'm sure she could use a little distraction."

Neville smiled broadly, "You really think that'll be all right?"

"Of course," Ginny smiled. "Don't you think so, Hermione?"

"That's a great idea," Hermione answered. "Neville, I'll help you describe the match if you like when it's through."

Just then, Neville stiffened, his face growing angry as he looked towards the entrance. Harry followed his gaze and saw Draco Malfoy walking in, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle.

"I'll bet his father was involved," Neville said fiercely. "If I could just get my hands on him…"

"Neville!" Hermione whispered, her eyes wide in shock.

Malfoy noticed the evil look he was getting from Neville and sauntered over to the Gryffindor table. Harry pulled his wand out and laid it beside his plate, just in case. He noticed Ron doing the same thing.

"Longbottom, what a surprise to see you here. I'd've assumed you'd be off crying with your girlfriend. It seems her father can take care of himself about as well as you can." Malfoy smirked at his goons, and they grunted appreciatively.

"You'd just better stay out of my way, Malfoy," Neville spat. "You shouldn't talk about other people's fathers – look at what yours is."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "What exactly would that be?"

"Come off it, Malfoy," Harry responded. "Everyone knows your dad is practically Voldemort's right hand."

Malfoy flinched slightly, but his eyes gleamed dangerously. "You should watch what you say, if you know what's good for you. You're living on borrowed time as it is."

"Don't talk to Harry that way!" Neville shouted, jumping from his seat so he could face the pale blonde boy. "Harry's a million times braver than you or your father will ever be! You're just jealous because his father was good – he gave up his life for him! And your father is nothing but a murderer!"

Ron and Harry clenched their wands tightly, watching carefully for Malfoy's reaction. The Slytherin stood silently for a moment, his sidekicks waiting for a signal from him as to what they should do. Draco ignored Neville and turned towards Harry, his face venomous.

"If you really want to know about murderers, Potter here is the one to ask. His father was quite good at killing from what I've heard."

"Liar!" Harry shouted, jumping up beside Neville. Ron sprang forward, shaking Hermione's hand off of him, standing protectively at Harry's side.

"Stop telling lies, Malfoy," Ron hissed. "Everyone knows the Potters were good people. Go spread your rumors where someone actually gives a damn what you say."

Malfoy just smiled, his lips stretched tight. "Believe what you want. It won't change the truth. Why don't you do a little digging around? You're rather good at that, already, aren't you? Or better, yet, just ask Snape. He knows the truth."

Before anyone could respond, Malfoy had turned back towards his table, Crabbe and Goyle following mindlessly. Harry stood, unable to move.

"Harry, I hope you're not taking any of what he said seriously," Ron said, snapping Harry out of his daze. "Come on, we have to change for the match."

"Ron's right, Harry, don't listen to anything he has to say," Hermione said, her eyes shining in anger. "Just put it out of your mind."

"He's probably just trying to distract you so we'll lose the Quidditch match," Ginny added earnestly. "Don't pay attention to any of it."

It was the warmest Ginny had been towards him in days, but still Harry couldn't shake the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Malfoy's words echoed in his mind as he made his way to get his Quidditch robes with Ron. They faded as they walked back down, dressed in scarlet robes, and had completely disappeared by the time he had his Firebolt back in his hand, ready to begin flying.

A/N: What was Draco talking about? He's not a very nice boy, is he? Well, Quidditch match next time! Read, review, whatever makes you happy. Thank you!