Chapter 8 - Seventh Year
How to summarize seventh year, by Harry Potter.
Boy fights incredibly bad wizard. Boy dies. Incredibly bad wizard gloats. Boy appears behind incredibly bad wizard. Incredibly bad wizard dies. Boy turns out to be different boy drinking Polyjuice potion. Boy collapses, and is carted off to hospital. Boy takes tests. Boy passes and is recruited into Auror program. Boy pines for girl who needs to go to school for another year.
Ok, that was badly done.
But it's accurate. On October 31st, 1998 exactly seventeen years after my parents died, I was awoken by someone in my dorm room that did not belong there, and at least to me, was not welcome.
Dumbledore sat in a chair by my bedside and asked me a question. "Are you ready?"
Thoughts of sleep evaporated. I thought about this for a minute, and answered "Yes."
He stood then. "Meet me in the Common Room. Bring what you think you might need."
He left, and closed the door behind him. I thought about it long and hard. What would I need after all? My wand of course, my broom would be silly, clothes would be a good thing, shoes, socks, all thrown into the bag I found on my trunk.
I dressed; at some point Neville woke up. "Harry? What's going on mate?"
"I'm going now Neville. It's time." Really I didn't need to expound on it. We all knew what I was going to do. It wasn't a secret.
What shocked the hell out of me was Neville standing up. "I'm coming Harry."
I didn't know what to say. "Neville, stay here mate, you'll be safer."
"I don't want to be safe Harry. I'm your friend. I want to help." He looked at me imploringly. Oh, he was a good friend, not like Ron and Hermione, and god nothing like Ginny. But Neville was something else.
"Ok, I guess." It was then I noticed a second pack on my trunk. I remember thinking 'god damn him, he knew all along.' And tossing the spare rucksack to Neville. "Pack what you think you need mate. Meet us in the common room."
I went to the bathroom. Hey, you would too. By the time I managed to make my way downstairs Neville was there with Dumbledore.
He looked at me a second. "Are you sure you have everything Harry?"
I looked at Neville and smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure."
We took one of those horrible port keys out into a field. It looked like a war had been going on for several days. With a shock I realized that's exactly what it was. We made our way to a tent; the Aurors there let us in without a word. Behind the desk sat an old grizzled wizard.
"This is our secret weapon? Two boys hardly old enough to wipe their own arses Albus?" He looked at us in contempt.
"They are the ones the prophesy alludes to." He said simply.
The older man sighed. "Fine. They are holed up here." His finger jabbed a spot on the map. "Voldemort is with them."
Albus looked at the map. "Harry, you will accompany one Auror, Neville the other." The two Aurors from the doorway were apparently standing behind us.
Suddenly I felt something hit me on the head. "Sorry." The Auror behind me said uncomfortably. I rubbed my head not realizing what they had just done.
See, this whole thing was staged. They knew all along. The only people left in the dark were Neville and I. That's right; when the Auror 'accidentally' bumped me it was so I wouldn't feel them taking a few strands of hair.
Bravo, you tricked two seventeen year old kids. We separated, can't have too many Harry Potters now, can we? Neville went one way with an Auror and Dumbledore, and I went the other with just an Auror.
By the time I got there, Neville was falling to the ground dead.
I understand he actually fought hard. He held Voldemort at bay for ten minutes, dodging and cursing right along with the best of them. Tonight however, the odds were stacked against my friend.
I killed Voldemort right then. There was no flash of light, boom of thunder or signing of the heavenly host. It was a single spell fired into Voldemort's back. I don't believe he even knew who killed him. Two simple words and he fell. Avada Kedavra.
It doesn't take much to hate a person enough to kill them. At that moment, I did. Suddenly bereft of hate, I found myself falling into the arms of the last person in the world I wanted to see. Dumbledore.
I passed out. Though I have vague memories of leaving the battlefield. It would take several more days of fighting for us to 'win' the war.
I returned to Hogwarts, I can only assume it was by Portkey, and woke up on November eighth. Ginny, Ron and Hermione were there waiting for me to wake up.
Ron was brassed off because I left without him, Hermione's knickers were in a twist because I didn't let them know. Ginny was thoroughly upset that I hadn't even said good bye.
Two days later I was allowed to leave the hospital wing, and did so under the watchful stare of Albus Dumbledore. I stopped in front of him. "I hate you." And walked on.
Three months later you couldn't tell we had had a row. Ginny was snuggled up to me like normal, and Ron and Hermione were bickering over something stupid. Ron said it was so he could get in some prime snogging later on as he 'made it up to her.' He is so pathetic.
The common room hushed as the portrait opened, and Dumbledore walked in. "Mr. Potter, I wish to speak with you."
"I don't." I stood and began walking to my room.
"Don't make this any harder than it has to be Harry."
I turned on him. It was unfair as hell, and I knew it then. "Really, is that what you told Neville you lying, murderous bastard?"
His head drooped. "I do not wish to have this discussion here Harry."
"That's just too bloody fucking bad Albus because I am not going anywhere." To their credit no one moved. Not even flinched when I said that and called him by his first name. No one does that.
"Mr. Potter!" I heard McGonagall say. "I'll not have you."
Honestly, I'm not sure what she would not have me do, I didn't really care either. "What tell the truth? That bastard KILLED Neville Longbottom and he damn well knows it." Oh yes, the Harry Potter Finger of Shame was pointing solidly at Dumbledore.
"Mr. Potter!"
"Now, Minerva." Albus said his hand on her arm.
"No! Don't you dare! You are either a heartless bastard or you care, you fucking well can't do both!" I was trembling by this point. Glasses on tables were beginning to quiver. "You have no bloody damn right to be in here! You are no Gryffindor, you are a god damned Slytherin! No one else could be that fucking heartless to let a seventeen year old kid get killed!"
"Eighteen." Dumbledore said.
"What?" I had deflated quite a bit at this point.
"I admit Harry, we had every intention on using the polyjuice potion to create a diversion. Neville asked to take it. He knew the risks, but did it anyway. He was an adult. He could make his own choices."
The argument lasted another fifteen minutes of me alternately screaming insults at him and sobbing over what we had both done.
Of course, Albus never did tell me how old Neville was. I just knew his birthday was near mine and I had assumed Neville was eleven when he came to Hogwarts. But no, his gran had held him back a year, hoping he'd be more powerful, like his dad.
I told Neville's grandmother. I told her that her grandson died fighting Voldemort, and that his parents would have been damn proud. I knew I was.
After that the year was actually quite disappointingly boring. Studying for N.E.W.T.s and Ginny occupied my non Quidditch time.
N.E.W.T.s then? The score was I received 7, Ron got 9, and well. Hermione's in Hogwart's a History as 'Highest Score on N.E.W.T. exam in one hundred years."
Ron and Hermione married that summer. It was a, ah, rush wedding. Apparently Hermione isn't perfect at everything. Thank god Ginny is.
How to summarize seventh year, by Harry Potter.
Boy fights incredibly bad wizard. Boy dies. Incredibly bad wizard gloats. Boy appears behind incredibly bad wizard. Incredibly bad wizard dies. Boy turns out to be different boy drinking Polyjuice potion. Boy collapses, and is carted off to hospital. Boy takes tests. Boy passes and is recruited into Auror program. Boy pines for girl who needs to go to school for another year.
Ok, that was badly done.
But it's accurate. On October 31st, 1998 exactly seventeen years after my parents died, I was awoken by someone in my dorm room that did not belong there, and at least to me, was not welcome.
Dumbledore sat in a chair by my bedside and asked me a question. "Are you ready?"
Thoughts of sleep evaporated. I thought about this for a minute, and answered "Yes."
He stood then. "Meet me in the Common Room. Bring what you think you might need."
He left, and closed the door behind him. I thought about it long and hard. What would I need after all? My wand of course, my broom would be silly, clothes would be a good thing, shoes, socks, all thrown into the bag I found on my trunk.
I dressed; at some point Neville woke up. "Harry? What's going on mate?"
"I'm going now Neville. It's time." Really I didn't need to expound on it. We all knew what I was going to do. It wasn't a secret.
What shocked the hell out of me was Neville standing up. "I'm coming Harry."
I didn't know what to say. "Neville, stay here mate, you'll be safer."
"I don't want to be safe Harry. I'm your friend. I want to help." He looked at me imploringly. Oh, he was a good friend, not like Ron and Hermione, and god nothing like Ginny. But Neville was something else.
"Ok, I guess." It was then I noticed a second pack on my trunk. I remember thinking 'god damn him, he knew all along.' And tossing the spare rucksack to Neville. "Pack what you think you need mate. Meet us in the common room."
I went to the bathroom. Hey, you would too. By the time I managed to make my way downstairs Neville was there with Dumbledore.
He looked at me a second. "Are you sure you have everything Harry?"
I looked at Neville and smiled. "Yeah, I'm sure."
We took one of those horrible port keys out into a field. It looked like a war had been going on for several days. With a shock I realized that's exactly what it was. We made our way to a tent; the Aurors there let us in without a word. Behind the desk sat an old grizzled wizard.
"This is our secret weapon? Two boys hardly old enough to wipe their own arses Albus?" He looked at us in contempt.
"They are the ones the prophesy alludes to." He said simply.
The older man sighed. "Fine. They are holed up here." His finger jabbed a spot on the map. "Voldemort is with them."
Albus looked at the map. "Harry, you will accompany one Auror, Neville the other." The two Aurors from the doorway were apparently standing behind us.
Suddenly I felt something hit me on the head. "Sorry." The Auror behind me said uncomfortably. I rubbed my head not realizing what they had just done.
See, this whole thing was staged. They knew all along. The only people left in the dark were Neville and I. That's right; when the Auror 'accidentally' bumped me it was so I wouldn't feel them taking a few strands of hair.
Bravo, you tricked two seventeen year old kids. We separated, can't have too many Harry Potters now, can we? Neville went one way with an Auror and Dumbledore, and I went the other with just an Auror.
By the time I got there, Neville was falling to the ground dead.
I understand he actually fought hard. He held Voldemort at bay for ten minutes, dodging and cursing right along with the best of them. Tonight however, the odds were stacked against my friend.
I killed Voldemort right then. There was no flash of light, boom of thunder or signing of the heavenly host. It was a single spell fired into Voldemort's back. I don't believe he even knew who killed him. Two simple words and he fell. Avada Kedavra.
It doesn't take much to hate a person enough to kill them. At that moment, I did. Suddenly bereft of hate, I found myself falling into the arms of the last person in the world I wanted to see. Dumbledore.
I passed out. Though I have vague memories of leaving the battlefield. It would take several more days of fighting for us to 'win' the war.
I returned to Hogwarts, I can only assume it was by Portkey, and woke up on November eighth. Ginny, Ron and Hermione were there waiting for me to wake up.
Ron was brassed off because I left without him, Hermione's knickers were in a twist because I didn't let them know. Ginny was thoroughly upset that I hadn't even said good bye.
Two days later I was allowed to leave the hospital wing, and did so under the watchful stare of Albus Dumbledore. I stopped in front of him. "I hate you." And walked on.
Three months later you couldn't tell we had had a row. Ginny was snuggled up to me like normal, and Ron and Hermione were bickering over something stupid. Ron said it was so he could get in some prime snogging later on as he 'made it up to her.' He is so pathetic.
The common room hushed as the portrait opened, and Dumbledore walked in. "Mr. Potter, I wish to speak with you."
"I don't." I stood and began walking to my room.
"Don't make this any harder than it has to be Harry."
I turned on him. It was unfair as hell, and I knew it then. "Really, is that what you told Neville you lying, murderous bastard?"
His head drooped. "I do not wish to have this discussion here Harry."
"That's just too bloody fucking bad Albus because I am not going anywhere." To their credit no one moved. Not even flinched when I said that and called him by his first name. No one does that.
"Mr. Potter!" I heard McGonagall say. "I'll not have you."
Honestly, I'm not sure what she would not have me do, I didn't really care either. "What tell the truth? That bastard KILLED Neville Longbottom and he damn well knows it." Oh yes, the Harry Potter Finger of Shame was pointing solidly at Dumbledore.
"Mr. Potter!"
"Now, Minerva." Albus said his hand on her arm.
"No! Don't you dare! You are either a heartless bastard or you care, you fucking well can't do both!" I was trembling by this point. Glasses on tables were beginning to quiver. "You have no bloody damn right to be in here! You are no Gryffindor, you are a god damned Slytherin! No one else could be that fucking heartless to let a seventeen year old kid get killed!"
"Eighteen." Dumbledore said.
"What?" I had deflated quite a bit at this point.
"I admit Harry, we had every intention on using the polyjuice potion to create a diversion. Neville asked to take it. He knew the risks, but did it anyway. He was an adult. He could make his own choices."
The argument lasted another fifteen minutes of me alternately screaming insults at him and sobbing over what we had both done.
Of course, Albus never did tell me how old Neville was. I just knew his birthday was near mine and I had assumed Neville was eleven when he came to Hogwarts. But no, his gran had held him back a year, hoping he'd be more powerful, like his dad.
I told Neville's grandmother. I told her that her grandson died fighting Voldemort, and that his parents would have been damn proud. I knew I was.
After that the year was actually quite disappointingly boring. Studying for N.E.W.T.s and Ginny occupied my non Quidditch time.
N.E.W.T.s then? The score was I received 7, Ron got 9, and well. Hermione's in Hogwart's a History as 'Highest Score on N.E.W.T. exam in one hundred years."
Ron and Hermione married that summer. It was a, ah, rush wedding. Apparently Hermione isn't perfect at everything. Thank god Ginny is.