"Bittersweet"
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or the original Harry Potter series. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and other companies. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: I had to get this chapter out of my, since it has such a sad ending. Also, I have an annoyingly full week coming up, and I wanted to say on track. So, I'm a chapter ahead, yay!
Chapter 16: Tracing the Lines
"Ginny is a Magnolia."
Hermione gasped, Harry looked utterly lost, Ginny's draw dropped, the adults already knew so didn't react, and Ron said "Bloody-"
You get a nice view of birds flying, chattering loudly as to cover up the rather lewd words Ron just said.
"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded. "Wow, that's great! Ginny's really a Magnolia?"
Dumbledore smiled and nodded.
Harry was still lost. "What's a Magnolia?"
Hermione answered, sounding, as usual, like she had swallowed a book on the subject. "A Magnolia is a human that can talk to animals through telepathy. The reason why it hurt you two when you kissed-" Harry and Ginny both flushed- "-is because while Ginny's powers are adjusting, she's very open to all auras. Because you two are so close, Ginny can feel all your bad experiences, and they are very painful to her."
Harry looked rather dumbfounded.
"So, does this mean I can talk to animals?" Ginny asked quietly.
Minerva nodded. "Yes, Ginny, like Harry's mother before you."
Harry's look became one of shock. "My mother could talk to animals?"
"Yes, Harry, she could. Another of remarkable similarities between your mother and Ginny." Arabella confirmed.
"Remarkable similarities?" asked Ron.
"Yes," started Sirius, "not only does Ginny look like Lily, she has the same nickname as Lily, the same overall attitude, the same powers, the same core in her wand, and also the same weakness for dark hair." Harry shot a look at Sirius, though you could tell that he was more worried about other information.
"But," Harry had to get this question out, "I mean, just how much is history repeating itself?"
Remus and Arabella shared a glance. "Not in a bad way, Harry."
"Alright, everyone out! It's been explained, and this boy needs rest, OUT!" Madam Pomfrey screeched, though the talk was far from complete. Calling goodnights and don't worries over their shoulders, everyone but Dumbledore left the room.
"Well, that's a lot of information to take in during thirty seconds." Harry said lightly, although his tone did not cover up the troubled undertow.
"Don't worry, my dear boy. Have a good night's rest."
Harry bit his lip, before making a quick decision. "Professor, I know."
Dumbledore nodded. "I know you know, Harry. But how long have you known that you are the Heir?"
"A month now."
Dumbledore gave a swift nod, and walked out of the room.
~*~
Harry curled up in a ball, trying to stay warm. Earlier, Dumbledore had told the school that another Yule Ball was to be had here, two days before Christmas vacation started so everyone, third year and up, could attend. The Yule Ball unlocked bad memories for Harry, and being in the hospital wing did not help.
Harry tossed and turned, squeezing his eyes shut. Eventually he gave in, letting a nightmare overtake his mind.
~*~
Harry's nightmare
He ran, dark hair whipping in his face. His glasses almost fell off. Reaching the edge of the cliff, Harry turned to face him.
Voldemort.
Voldemort laughed evilly. "That's right, Harry. You know I'm not truly gone. You know I'm not!"
Cedric crept up on Harry's side. His skin hung off his face, blood dripped down his sides, and his complexion was pure, unabashed white. "Harry, why didn't you just take the cup yourself? Why? I wouldn't be dead now!"
Harry turned to his other side, and almost fell off the cliff. Arthur Weasley stood there. His wand lay limp in his hand, his outline blurred.
"Harry, you didn't kill Lucius, so Lucius killed me!"
The three men crept slowly towards Harry. Harry took a step back to find- nothing.
He fell off the cliff, screaming.
~*~
Harry slid into his seat, all too aware of the whispers that filled the Great Hall when he walked in. Giving the Gryffindors his best fake smile, Harry pretended to be fine. After all, who was better at pretending then Harry? He pretended to be fine over last year, fine over the Magnolia thing. He pretended to be fine, and, damn, was he good at it.
Harry hadn't told anyone about his much too vivid nightmare, worried that it would cause a panic, or that Madam Pomfrey would make him go back to the Hospital Wing, having reluctantly released him early that morning. Harry munched on his bacon, mentally promising himself to tell Dumbledore about it after class. Or perhaps Aunt Minerva, after Transfiguration?
Harry knew that Minerva McGonagall was his great aunt. He didn't know how he knew, he just did, like he knew that he was the Founder's heir, and how he knew that Voldemort was not truly gone, but, like before, biding his time, gathering what he needed for a new resurrection, more powerful than the last.
Harry knew. But he said nothing.
~*~
Dumbledore abruptly stood up. An open letter, with an owl sitting next to it, lay next to his plate. A hush immediately blanketed the Great Hall, just before he began to speak. "May I see Mr. Potter, The Weasley family, Miss Granger, and Professors McGonagall, Black, and Lupin, please? If you would follow me, this way, please."
Harry stood up along with the rest and nervously led them to the staff table. Dumbledore motioned for them to follow, and walked to the door behind the long table. Harry cut around the table, and the group followed him to the door. Harry swallowed hard before entering the room, the people he called family filtering in behind him.
Dumbledore nodded, and closed the door. Harry looked around him, shivering slightly. His eyes fell on the fireplace that the three other champions had stood around. He couldn't help but give a rather bitter smile. This time, there wouldn't be a misunderstanding as to why he was in this room. Sirius laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, knowing just why Harry looked so sour.
"I'm afraid I bring you bad news." the wise old headmaster whispered. "There is no way to put this gently, no way to cushion the blow. Then again, isn't saying what must be said, and not dancing around it, the way it should be done? But, alas, I do just that."
Dumbledore looked into each of their faces. "Arthur Weasley, father to some of you, friend to others, was killed. He was being tortured to find out how Harry had sent the Death Eaters away from Hogwarts. Arrangements will be made so that you may attend his funeral, a week from today."
Ron looked at the floor and put an arm around a weeping Hermione. Fred and George looked at each other, for once having no idea what to do. Remus laid a hand on Harry's other shoulder, and gave Sirius a brotherly pat on the back. Ginny's eyes filled with tears, though they did not overspill. Minerva stared at the wall.
Harry looked down. His shoulders slumped as if he had the weight of the world on them, though they held nothing but a hand on each. His foot scuffed at the floor. His eyes were filled with grief, guilt, and anger, anger at himself for not being able to kill Lucius, and anger at the world.
~*~
Author's Note: I do believe this is my most in-character chapter ever, besides the first one. I hope I got the 'Harry's fine' act in their good. I hope to have the next chapter up by Wednesday- hope to.
~Merusa
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or the original Harry Potter series. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and other companies. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: I had to get this chapter out of my, since it has such a sad ending. Also, I have an annoyingly full week coming up, and I wanted to say on track. So, I'm a chapter ahead, yay!
Chapter 16: Tracing the Lines
"Ginny is a Magnolia."
Hermione gasped, Harry looked utterly lost, Ginny's draw dropped, the adults already knew so didn't react, and Ron said "Bloody-"
You get a nice view of birds flying, chattering loudly as to cover up the rather lewd words Ron just said.
"Ron!" Hermione reprimanded. "Wow, that's great! Ginny's really a Magnolia?"
Dumbledore smiled and nodded.
Harry was still lost. "What's a Magnolia?"
Hermione answered, sounding, as usual, like she had swallowed a book on the subject. "A Magnolia is a human that can talk to animals through telepathy. The reason why it hurt you two when you kissed-" Harry and Ginny both flushed- "-is because while Ginny's powers are adjusting, she's very open to all auras. Because you two are so close, Ginny can feel all your bad experiences, and they are very painful to her."
Harry looked rather dumbfounded.
"So, does this mean I can talk to animals?" Ginny asked quietly.
Minerva nodded. "Yes, Ginny, like Harry's mother before you."
Harry's look became one of shock. "My mother could talk to animals?"
"Yes, Harry, she could. Another of remarkable similarities between your mother and Ginny." Arabella confirmed.
"Remarkable similarities?" asked Ron.
"Yes," started Sirius, "not only does Ginny look like Lily, she has the same nickname as Lily, the same overall attitude, the same powers, the same core in her wand, and also the same weakness for dark hair." Harry shot a look at Sirius, though you could tell that he was more worried about other information.
"But," Harry had to get this question out, "I mean, just how much is history repeating itself?"
Remus and Arabella shared a glance. "Not in a bad way, Harry."
"Alright, everyone out! It's been explained, and this boy needs rest, OUT!" Madam Pomfrey screeched, though the talk was far from complete. Calling goodnights and don't worries over their shoulders, everyone but Dumbledore left the room.
"Well, that's a lot of information to take in during thirty seconds." Harry said lightly, although his tone did not cover up the troubled undertow.
"Don't worry, my dear boy. Have a good night's rest."
Harry bit his lip, before making a quick decision. "Professor, I know."
Dumbledore nodded. "I know you know, Harry. But how long have you known that you are the Heir?"
"A month now."
Dumbledore gave a swift nod, and walked out of the room.
~*~
Harry curled up in a ball, trying to stay warm. Earlier, Dumbledore had told the school that another Yule Ball was to be had here, two days before Christmas vacation started so everyone, third year and up, could attend. The Yule Ball unlocked bad memories for Harry, and being in the hospital wing did not help.
Harry tossed and turned, squeezing his eyes shut. Eventually he gave in, letting a nightmare overtake his mind.
~*~
Harry's nightmare
He ran, dark hair whipping in his face. His glasses almost fell off. Reaching the edge of the cliff, Harry turned to face him.
Voldemort.
Voldemort laughed evilly. "That's right, Harry. You know I'm not truly gone. You know I'm not!"
Cedric crept up on Harry's side. His skin hung off his face, blood dripped down his sides, and his complexion was pure, unabashed white. "Harry, why didn't you just take the cup yourself? Why? I wouldn't be dead now!"
Harry turned to his other side, and almost fell off the cliff. Arthur Weasley stood there. His wand lay limp in his hand, his outline blurred.
"Harry, you didn't kill Lucius, so Lucius killed me!"
The three men crept slowly towards Harry. Harry took a step back to find- nothing.
He fell off the cliff, screaming.
~*~
Harry slid into his seat, all too aware of the whispers that filled the Great Hall when he walked in. Giving the Gryffindors his best fake smile, Harry pretended to be fine. After all, who was better at pretending then Harry? He pretended to be fine over last year, fine over the Magnolia thing. He pretended to be fine, and, damn, was he good at it.
Harry hadn't told anyone about his much too vivid nightmare, worried that it would cause a panic, or that Madam Pomfrey would make him go back to the Hospital Wing, having reluctantly released him early that morning. Harry munched on his bacon, mentally promising himself to tell Dumbledore about it after class. Or perhaps Aunt Minerva, after Transfiguration?
Harry knew that Minerva McGonagall was his great aunt. He didn't know how he knew, he just did, like he knew that he was the Founder's heir, and how he knew that Voldemort was not truly gone, but, like before, biding his time, gathering what he needed for a new resurrection, more powerful than the last.
Harry knew. But he said nothing.
~*~
Dumbledore abruptly stood up. An open letter, with an owl sitting next to it, lay next to his plate. A hush immediately blanketed the Great Hall, just before he began to speak. "May I see Mr. Potter, The Weasley family, Miss Granger, and Professors McGonagall, Black, and Lupin, please? If you would follow me, this way, please."
Harry stood up along with the rest and nervously led them to the staff table. Dumbledore motioned for them to follow, and walked to the door behind the long table. Harry cut around the table, and the group followed him to the door. Harry swallowed hard before entering the room, the people he called family filtering in behind him.
Dumbledore nodded, and closed the door. Harry looked around him, shivering slightly. His eyes fell on the fireplace that the three other champions had stood around. He couldn't help but give a rather bitter smile. This time, there wouldn't be a misunderstanding as to why he was in this room. Sirius laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, knowing just why Harry looked so sour.
"I'm afraid I bring you bad news." the wise old headmaster whispered. "There is no way to put this gently, no way to cushion the blow. Then again, isn't saying what must be said, and not dancing around it, the way it should be done? But, alas, I do just that."
Dumbledore looked into each of their faces. "Arthur Weasley, father to some of you, friend to others, was killed. He was being tortured to find out how Harry had sent the Death Eaters away from Hogwarts. Arrangements will be made so that you may attend his funeral, a week from today."
Ron looked at the floor and put an arm around a weeping Hermione. Fred and George looked at each other, for once having no idea what to do. Remus laid a hand on Harry's other shoulder, and gave Sirius a brotherly pat on the back. Ginny's eyes filled with tears, though they did not overspill. Minerva stared at the wall.
Harry looked down. His shoulders slumped as if he had the weight of the world on them, though they held nothing but a hand on each. His foot scuffed at the floor. His eyes were filled with grief, guilt, and anger, anger at himself for not being able to kill Lucius, and anger at the world.
~*~
Author's Note: I do believe this is my most in-character chapter ever, besides the first one. I hope I got the 'Harry's fine' act in their good. I hope to have the next chapter up by Wednesday- hope to.
~Merusa