Author's Notes: Whew, sorry bout the wait, guys. It's been, what, a month? School, job, a boyfriend… actually, two, but you don't want to hear that. Suffice it to say that this has been a very odd, very trying time, and I sincerely apologize for the extreme wait. HOWEVER, there is something you can do to encourage me to write faster. Remember that cute little button at the bottom of the page, the one right next to the thing that says "Submit Review"? Uh-huh. As soon as you finish reading this chapter, I want you to press that and drop me a line, even if it's just "hey, cool!" or "hey, crap!". I really hoped I wouldn't have to stoop to this, but… here's the ultimatum. Unless I get five reviews on this chapter, you don't get the next one. And I don't think you'll like me for that…
Disclaimer: ::beep:: We're sorry, but the author was to lazy to come up with a witty disclaimer for this chapter. This is her answering machine. AND REFRIGERATOR! Yes, and the refrigerator. We're supposed to tell you that Nikki does not own Harry Potter or any related paraphernalia--YES SHE DOES YES SHE DOES SHE BOUGHT IT WITH HER BIRTHDAY MONEY--No, she didn't, ice-cream-for-brains. Nor does she claim any responsibility for the impending destruction of said refrigerator and subsequent large amounts of food on the kitchen floor. For that, I claim all responsibility. Thank you. G'BYE!!! SEE YOU LATER!!! I'LL MIS--::long, ululating beep not unlike a war cry, followed by many loud crashes and electrical shorts, and finally, silence.::
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Chapter 3
Their footsteps echoed strangely in the empty halls of Hogwarts. Everyone was still in Hogsmeade, the memorial service still on. Much of the southwest portion of the castle was destroyed, where repeated Crushing Hexes had broken through the castle's defenses and opened the way for invading Death Eaters. The horrific sound the stone walls had made as they fell still echoed in Harry's ears, and the screams of those behind the walls haunted his dreams. He shuddered as he looked away from the mounds of rubble.
Silently, they made their way to Dumbledore's office. They waved at Nearly Headless Nick as he floated by; he nodded absently in response, preoccupied in his search for the Gray Lady. She'd been missing since the battle.
The gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office sat where it always had, barring the way to the Headmaster's private office unless one had the password. "Paix," whispered Harry, not to keep it from his friends, but because it didn't feel right to make much noise in this empty temple of learning. The gargoyle leapt aside, allowing the quartet entry into the moving stair. Harry half-smiled as he remembered his first trip up these stairs, so many years before. The stairs came to an abrupt halt, however, and whatever fond memories he had been about to relive were pushed aside to make room for his current task.
Dumbledore's office was furnished much like it always was, esoteric whosits and whatsits scattered randomly about, magical paraphernalia lining the shelves, and portraits of slumbering previous headmasters on the walls. The Sword of Gryffindor, cleaned and freshly honed, was mounted on a plaque above the Headmaster's desk. Harry couldn't look at it. "Sit," he offered his friends, his mouth dry. He rubbed his sweaty palms together, though it was quite cool in the office. "There's something you all have to know… about Voldemort." Absently, he turned the ring on his middle finger.
"You see…" he paused, and looked at each of them in turn. "Ron, Hermione, Gin, I really don't know how to say this. You're not going to like it at all."
"Well, just—"
"Ron." Three voices cut him off, and Hermione placed a quieting hand on his arm.
"Right," Harry continued. "See… during the battle, I hit him with the Killing Curse. Only he had the same protection I have, because he used my blood to resurrect himself. So the Curse couldn't kill him, only incapacitate him for a while, like it did me. I don't know what they did, but…. I guess they must've extracted his essence, or something… and put it in here." He took off the ring and held it out to them. They didn't take it, just stared at it.
"He's… not dead, then." Ron gulped, shrinking away from the proffered band.
"No," Harry answered shortly.
"But he's trapped, right?" asked Ginny, eyes wide with fear.
"Of course he is," answered Hermione. "I recognize those marks from Ancient Runes. That's about the most powerful trapping charm there is, and it's carved into… mythril, right?" She looked up at Harry for confirmation.
"I don't know. Dumbledore didn't tell me much beyond the fact that he's trapped here, and we have to find a way to kill him for good."
"Harry, the prophecy…" Ginny trailed off.
"It only means that the war isn't over. We've still got work to do."
Ron sputtered. "I don't—I mean, why'd they go through all the trouble to trap him? Couldn't they just kill him?"
"I'm the only one who can. They had to figure out a way to keep him out of trouble while we found a way to kill him. I suppose this is the best they could come up with on such short notice."
"So… we don't actually know what to do with him, then, do we?"
Harry sighed. "No."
"Oh." An oppressive silence settled over the group, as each began to explore the implications and possible ramifications of Harry's statement. No one looked at anyone else; Harry spun his ring fiercely, hoping Voldemort could feel it and was getting very dizzy, Ginny stared blankly out the window, Hermione examined her hands, and Ron traced the grain of the wood on his armrest. Abruptly, Ron's head snapped up. "The veil!—"
—Sirius had only just fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second…. But Sirius did not reappear. "SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"
"It's too late, Harry—"
"We can still reach him—"
"There's nothing you can do, Harry… nothing…. He's gone."
"We can throw it through the veil in the Department of Mysteries!"
A part of Harry was sickened by the idea; trap his godfather and his archenemy in the same place for all eternity? How could he even think it? The rest of him was forced to realize that the suggestion was quite a good one. They didn't understand the mechanics of the veil, but they knew that whatever passed it died instantly. "Great idea, Ron. I'll ask Dumbledore about it when he gets back."
Almost instantly, the air in the Headmaster's office relaxed. Ginny and Hermione fell to talking about Ancient Runes, and Harry didn't bother even trying to listen in as he sat comfortably in the Headmaster's chair. Ron wandered around the room, examining all the knickknacks Dumbledore had collected over the years. Harry couldn't help but cringe with guilt at the destruction he'd caused two years before. He had smashed countless irreplaceable items, and yet Dumbledore never tried to stop him. He hoped that someday he might be as caring and understanding as the aged Headmaster.
"Yeowch!" Ron exclaimed.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"That thing bit me!" He pointed at a normal-looking quill. The feather split into what was unmistakably a grin.
"Well, you should know better than to go touching things that don't belong to you," she admonished patiently.
"Well, they should know better than to bite me when I'm just looking!" He glared at the quill, which grinned even wider.
Harry watched it all with amusement, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Voldemort was as good as gone, finally. Hermione stood up to join Ron, and he wrapped an arm around her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Harry truly smiled for the first time in what felt like ages. He met Ginny's eyes and found a grin on her face, too. He nodded in the direction of Ron and Hermione, and rolled his eyes. Ginny nodded vigorously.
Harry stood to stretch—his muscles were still tight from the Avada Kedavra curse—but instead of sitting back down, he made his way to Ginny Weasley. He sat in the seat recently vacated by Ron and leaned over to her. "So how long d'you think it'll take them?"
"To what, get married or have kids?"
"Both."
"Oh, I'd say about a year to get married. Eight months later is the first kid."
"Eight?"
Ginny shot him a look that clearly expressed what she meant. "Yes. Eight."
"What's all this about eight?" Ron asked from the other side of the room.
Harry and Ginny snickered. "Nothing, Ron," Harry answered in the most innocent voice he could muster—not that convincing, really, but already Ron wasn't paying them any attention.
For another hour, they stayed in Dumbledore's office, secure in the belief that nothing could touch them. For another hour, they were four teens finally released from the pressures of a heartless world that thrived on ironies. For another hour, they were wrong.
"No."
Harry's disbelief was evident on his face. "What do you mean, 'no'?"
"I mean no, Harry, the veil will not solve our problem." Dumbledore looked away, almost as if he were ashamed to answer.
"But Headmaster, it… I mean, anything that crosses it dies, doesn't it?" Harry was growing desperate.
"Anything alive dies instantly, yes. But Voldemort is neither alive nor dead, now. His soul is so twisted, so foul, that nothing short of divine intervention could destroy him right now. Alas, the gods abandoned us millennia ago. The Killing Curse could have killed him—"
"No it couldn't." Harry's voice shook. He'd tried it, it hadn't worked.
"Yes, Harry, it could have, if you believed it would. It's just like the Cruciatus—you must truly want it to work, you must want him dead, if the curse is to kill."
"But I did, I—"
"No, Harry. You believed he was protected, by the blood he took from you. He was not; the protection your mother gave you has nothing to do with blood, and everything to do with whom the spell was meant for. Unfortunately, you believed Voldemort could not be killed by the Killing Curse. Therefore, you could not kill him."
"I don't understand, Professor," pleaded Hermione, looking as if she really did but didn't want to believe it.
"We must first bring him back into the world of the living, before he can be killed."
"But that would make him immortal!" shouted Ron.
"No, Ron. Quite the opposite, in fact. You see, right now, he is neither living nor dead. Thus, he cannot be killed. A living thing can be killed. A dead thing can be sent back. Voldemort, as neither, is about as immortal as he is going to get. However, if we bring him back, give him a body, a curse, poison, or a simple blade can kill him quite easily. The trick is containing him until such a thing is possible, and controlling him once he is alive. And, of course, keeping it secret."
"Why secret, Professor? Shouldn't everyone know there's a chance he might come back?"
"Ms. Weasley, do you remember your fifth year?" he asked, his voice cracking with age.
"Ye-es," she answered hesitantly.
"So you remember the panic everyone felt?" She nodded, and he continued. "We are trying to prevent that, if at all possible. We certainly have not caught all of Voldemort's Death Eaters. If word were to get out that he were still 'alive', I sincerely doubt we would ever get any rest. They would be coming at us from all sides, and I, for one, don't think we could handle much more of this outright war."
"But… so what you're saying is, we're no closer to beating him than we were sixteen years ago."
"I'm leaving," Harry announced, standing.
"Harry—" Ginny started, but he was already halfway out the door.
"No, Mr. Weasley, we are much closer to beating him than we were the first time. He is trapped—"
"But for how long?"
"Ron," Hermione admonished, laying a quieting hand on his shoulder.
"He really is leaving, you know!" Ginny announced, perturbed, as she watched Harry's retreating form.
"Quite alright, Ms. Granger, it's a valid question."
"Right." Ginny stood and jogged after him. The moving stair with Harry on it was already halfway down, so she waited impatiently at the top. When it returned, she hopped on it immediately, and wished it could move faster. She jumped the last few feet and hardly waited for the gargoyle to move before rushing out into the hall. "Harry!" she called, not seeing him anywhere in the hallway. "Damn it, Harry, come—"
"—back!"
Harry ignored her, continued determinedly to the hill that overlooked Hogsmeade. He was afraid to look back at her, she was afraid to chase him. That instantaneous lack of concentration cost her dearly. "CRUCIO!" shouted a Death Eater. She screamed.
"Ginny!"
"Harry? Where are you?" Worry tinged her voice—something in his cry frightened her.
He shook his head angrily; he hadn't meant to call attention to himself, but the memories were painful, and so realistic sometimes. "In here." He opened the door to the empty classroom he had sought refuge in, willing his voice back to normal. She examined him closely as she entered; he limped away to lean on a desk.
"What was that all about?"
He shrugged. "Leg seized up. Side effect from the curse, I guess."
"Not that. The screaming."
"Oh. That." He sighed. "Flashbacks."
"You get them, too?"
Harry nodded, his black hair flopping over his forehead. They stood in silence, Ginny at the door, Harry resting most of his weight on the dusty school desk "You know," he said after a moment, "for a while there, I thought we were done. I was… ecstatic. And then good old Dumbledore… 'No.' I can always count on him, no matter how bad it seems, to make things worse."
"Harry, you can't blame him—"
"I don't. I don't blame him for any of this. I blame myself for believing it could be so easy. It's never that easy. Never." His fists clenched, and the nearest five desks shook. "I just want to be done, Gin."
"Harry, it's alright—"
"It's not alright, Ginny! It won't be alright until he's gone and I don't know if I can kill him again!"
"Harry, you won't have to," she replied, in what she hoped was a reassuring tone. She walked to him, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Dumbledore can do it, he said Tom could be killed easily. Let him take care of it, he knows what he's doing. He defeated Grindlewald, he's got experience in this sort of thing."
"Experience." Harry spat the word, as if it left a vile taste in his mouth. "I hate experience. It's just another word for pain."
"Then go! Australia, America, China, anywhere! We can disappear, hide so no one will ever find us. We can just go."
"I CAN'T!" he roared, throwing off her hand. Her eyes widened in surprise; in all the years she'd known him, Harry had never shouted at her like that. "I can't," he repeated, almost whispering. "That stupid prophecy…. If he ever escaped, if Dumbledore couldn't do it… it would be my fault."
"Don't you dare think this is your fault," she snapped, Weasley temper flaring suddenly into life.
"How is it not?" he shot back, angry. "Everything! It's all my fault! My parents, Cedric, Sirius, Moody, Gus, Dean, Padma, Pavarti, every single person that died, ALL ON MY SOUL!"
"Harry James Potter!" Ginny shouted. "If you think for one moment that any of that is your fault, you are so severely mistaken it's a wonder you managed to pass first year!" He started to speak, but she cast a silencing charm on him. "No. You will listen to me, and you will look at me while I am speaking to you!" A small, detached part of herself marveled at how much she sounded like her mother as Harry's unchecked power pushed the surrounding desks away. "You saved me when we were twelve years old. You risked your life for a girl you hardly knew, for a little girl who was stupid enough to trust an enchanted diary. And I know, Harry, because I know you, if there was any way you could've saved them from dying, you would've. You would've given your life a thousand times over. But Voldemort took them away. Blame him.
"And before you say anything about it being your fault he's back, remember it's because of you that he was gone in the first place! If it wasn't for you, Cedric, Sirius, and Pavarti would still be dead because Tom would've killed them. I would be dead. Ron would be dead. Hermione would be dead. So many thousands more would be dead, but they're not, because you lived! And… Merlin, Harry, if you hadn't… where would I be without my best friend?" Ginny didn't like to think of that; it made her stomach churn and her heart hurt.
Harry must have seen something in her eyes, because he straightened abruptly and pulled her into a reassuring hug. "Finite Incantem. I'm sorry, Harry," she mumbled into his chest. "I didn't mean to yell. It's just… sometimes I don't think you remember how much you mean to me." That WASN'T what I meant to--!
"Ginny," he whispered huskily, "I'm not going anywhere. You're my rock, Gin, you keep me sane." Almost absently, he traced her jaw with a callused finger. "I couldn't—"
The door burst open. "Hey Gi—oh." Rachel stopped, stunned, and Harry and Ginny sprang apart. "Ron said you'd gone after him, but I didn't think he meant you went after him."
"RACHEL!"
"Hello, Rach. I'm guessing Ron sent you to find us?"
"Yes, actually. He said, 'If my little sister is quite done knocking some sense into my best friend, we've still got some things to talk about with Dumbledore.' What things?"
"Nothing important, really, just some guardianship business and arranging to stay at the Weasley's this summer," Harry lied smoothly. "Bunches of legal stuff and signing papers. You're welcome to come if you like."
"No, thanks, that's alright," Rachel declined hurriedly. "But why would you have to knock sense into him, Ginny?"
"He refused to take his godfather's house, that's all. It's settled, now."
"Godfather as in Sirius Black?"
Ginny couldn't help but catch the way Harry's eyes dropped when his godfather was mentioned. "The same."
Rachel nodded, and Ginny interjected briskly, "Well, I suppose we ought to get back there. Don't want to make Ron sit through too much more of that."
"Right. See you later, Rachel," Harry said, gliding to the door and gently pulling Ginny with him.
Rachel nodded in agreement, and watched amusedly as the pair disappeared up the Headmaster's stairs. She meandered in the opposite direction, towards the tower she had re-named Gryffindor Sunroom, in no particular hurry to get anywhere. Classes were cancelled due to the amazingly large hole in most of the classrooms, so there was no homework to do--not that she would have, anyway, but it would have given her a reason to do nothing. At any rate, she was entirely unprepared for the forceful blow to the back of her head that sent her unconscious form to the floor.
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A Rush Of Blood To The Head
Coldplay
He said I'm gonna buy this place and burn it down
I'm gonna put it six feet underground
He said "I'm gonna buy this place and watch it fall
Stand here beside me baby in the crumbling walls
Oh I'm gonna buy this place and start a fire
Stand here until I fill all your heart's desires
Because I'm gonna buy this place and see it burn
Do back the things it did to you in return
Ah ah ah, ah ah ah...
He said I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
Oh and I'm gonna buy this place that's what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head
Honey
All the movements you're starting to make
See me crumble and fall on my face
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without a trace.
And they call as they beckon you on
They said start as you mean to go on
Start as you mean to go on
He said "I'm gonna buy this place and see it go
Stand here beside my baby, watch the orange glow
Some will laugh and some just sit and cry
But you just sit down there and you wonder why
So I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
And I'm gonna buy this place that's what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head
Oh to the head
Honey
All the movements you're starting to make
See me crumble and fall on my face
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without a trace.
And they call as they beckon you on
They said start as you mean to go on
As you mean to go on, as you mean to go on
So meet me by the bridge,
Oh meet me by the lane
When am I going to see
That pretty face again
Meet me on the road
Meet me where I said
Blame it all upon
A rush of blood to the head
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Thanks again to Punkin, AKA Leslie, my beta, and crazy-manga-girl, my one and only reviewer for Chapter 2. I'm glad you enjoyed it, that's what I'm here for. Don't forget, everyone else… 5 reviews or no Chapter 4. Oh, and that little bit in there you recognized can be found on page 806 of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by the wonderful J.K. Rowling.