A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers, especially to ears91 and onkel!  I have about a bunch of chapters already but was planning on waiting to post them every other day or so.  But I hate to keep you two waiting, so here's the next chapter.  It's another long one, and it sets up the whole New Identity thing.

Enjoy!

10. Aftermath

Ron and Hermione were summoned to Dumbledore's office the next morning where he explained what he knew of Harry's condition.  He assured them that Harry would recover fully, at least physically.  With a great weariness in his eyes, Dumbledore carefully and gently described the marks left by his torturers.  Dumbledore knew that Harry would most likely want to keep what happened a secret, but he also knew that it was in Harry's best interest if he talked about it.

Hermione and Ron walked away from that meeting with Dumbledore angry and horrified at what Harry had to endure.  Ron, in his typical style, had been furious with himself for his jealousy.  It was so easy for him to focus on the good things in Harry's life, the fame and the fortune.  But, unlike the rest of the wizarding world at large, Ron knew the other side to being Harry Potter, and it was a side he often forgot.  As they walked towards Gryffindor tower, Ron kept saying how he would make it up to Harry.

Hermione's heart had broke when Dumbledore told them about the things Harry suffered through.  She let her tears fall without trying to stem them, for she knew she had to cry.  But she wouldn't cry later; she knew she had to be strong for Harry.  She wasn't there for him before, but she would be there for him now, whether he wanted her or not.  Hermione was also furious with the school and with her professors.  How could Dumbledore let this happen?  Hadn't Harry gone through enough already?  And damn the students here.  They didn't know Harry.  Rooming with Lavender and Pavarti did have some benefits; through them, she always knew what the rest of the school was thinking.  And she knew that the school only saw Harry as a protector, a hero as she once did when she was ten.  But Harry wasn't the stoic hero everyone thought he was.  He was a real person, facing horrible things every day of his life.  Everyone expected Harry to be there to save the day, even the teachers, and they sat back and let Harry endure it all.  And, worst of all, Harry did save the day; he always was the hero.  Even ignoring some of their more mysterious adventures (such as the Sorcerer's stone and saving Sirius), everyone knew Harry still saved the school by killing the basilisk; they knew he was the school's Tri-Wizard champion; and they knew he was there when Voldemort's existence was exposed at the Ministry last year.  And she knew that everyone knew what he did last night, if they hadn't seen it first hand.

Hermione had been tossing and turning from worry that night.  All of a sudden a voice echoed through the castle.

"Professor Dumbledore! Professor McGonnagal!  Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest!"

There was no mistaking that voice, for Hermione knew it like she knew her own.  Harry!  Harry was alive!  She immediately ran from her room, grabbing her robe as she went.  She ran to the common room, unsure where to go, of where she could best help her friend.  Soon the common room filled as more students arrived, awoken by Harry's cries.  Hermione needed to figure out where Harry was, so she ran from through the portrait hole towards the corridor that faced outside, where she would be able to look through the windows.  Students began to follow her instinctively, assuming that as a prefect and Harry's friend, she would know where to go.

When she arrived at the windows facing outside, she gasped in shock.  She saw someone running towards the castle; she knew it had to be Harry.  Someone next to her screamed and pointed.  Hermione looked and saw what looked like dozens of forms emerge from the Forbidden Forest.  Death Eaters!  She silently sent up a prayer of thanks that she had remembered to bring her wand with her when she left her dorm room.  She pulled it from her robe and pointed it at the charging Death Eaters. 

"Stupefy!" she cried out, and then watched in horror as her spell seemed to be absorbed by a barrier five meters from the window.  She looked around and saw that other students who had the forethought to bring their wands also met with similar results.  She cursed the wards that protected Hogwarts, for they also kept her from helping Harry.  She watched as Harry ran, and cried out when he tumbled to the ground after a curse struck him.  She panicked, unable to leave her place at the window and pleading for Harry to get up.  To her immense relief, Harry struggled to his feet, but her relief was short-lived when she realized he couldn't run anymore, his leg injured by the curse.  She watched as Harry turned to face the coming Death Eaters, firing spell after spell at them until he was surrounded.  She watched as the Death Eaters fired curse after curse at Harry, who could only cast a shield spell for defense, unable to spare a second to fire back, and unable to run.  She cried out again when a spell broke through his shield and Harry was sent flying across the school grounds.  She helplessly wondered where the professors were, why Dumbledore hadn't appeared to save Harry.  She closed her eyes; she couldn't bear to watch as the Death Eaters approached Harry's unmoving body.  She snapped her eyes open when a cheer erupted from the students around her.  She looked back at Harry, and saw that the professors had finally arrived, Dumbledore and the forefront firing spells at the retreating Death Eaters.  And she watched as a stretcher was conjured to bring Harry into the castle.

Immediately, Hermione rushed to the hospital ward, knowing that Harry would be brought there.  She was refused entrance, as she expected, but she waited.  She waited outside the infirmiary with Ron all night until summoned to Dumbledore's office.

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Harry Potter opened his eyes, seeing only a blurry white.  He groaned inwardly; even without his glasses, Harry knew exactly where he was.  Most students have a particular spot in the Great Hall where they take their meals, or a certain seat in class where they always sit.  Harry Potter had his own bed in Hogwarts' infirmary, which he often visited throughout the year.  Everything was familiar, too familiar.  The sterile smell of the infirmary and the feel of the mattress he lay upon, including that lump in the mattress right below his left knee.  Harry hated this place.

Accustomed to waking up in the infirmary, Harry went over his usual post-awakening ritual.  He tested each body part for pain, one after the other.  The circuit completed, he felt aches almost everywhere and a bit of stiffness in his right leg, where he remembered that a curse had hit him.  His chest also ached, presumable from the other curse.  Harry reached over to the bedside table, retrieved his glasses, and looked around.  What Harry feared did not come to pass - the infirmary was empty except for him.  Harry had envisioned beds full of hurt staff and students.  He had already figured out that the attack had been repelled; otherwise he wouldn't be waking up at all.  He was thankful that there were no other apparent injuries.  Looking out the window, Harry guessed it was mid-morning, with classes underway.

Looking over at the end of the table, Harry was heartened to see a massive amount of flowers, candy, and get-well cards, easily surpassing the collection he received at the end of his first year after saving the Sorcerer's Stone.  Harry felt a great sense of relief at the sight of his trusty wand, which was lying on his bedside table, next to where his glasses had been.  Harry knew he owed Colin a new wand.  He gave a small smile as he reached for a Chocolate Frog.  As he was unwrapping the chocolate, Madam Pomfrey entered.

"Oh good, your awake!" she cried.  Harry was expecting to see her typical look of disapproval on her face, and he was surprised to see a look of happiness and admiration on her face.  "We were so worried about you.  I'll alert the headmaster immediately," she said, bustling out of the room.

Harry took the time to look himself over.  Looking down at his chest, he cringed at the marks that were there; scars and reminders of the torture he endured.  Harry examined his arms and legs and winced at the sight; he was afraid to see what his back looked like.  While Harry was examining himself, poking at the scars that lined his ribs, Professor Dumbledore walked into the room. 

As soon as Harry saw Dumbledore, it all came back.  From the time he awoke to just before Dumbledore walked in the room, the past two days seemed like a bad dream he had just awoken from.  Even the scars he viewed in a clinical fashion, determining how they were caused and whether they could be covered.  It was almost like everything happened to someone else, but seeing Dumbledore made it all real.  Everything; the fight outside the school, the orb he smashed, the torture, and worst of all, the murder of Hagrid.  Harry felt a strong hitch in his chest when he thought of Hagrid, but he fought it down.  He refused to show any weakness in front of Dumbledore.

"Ah, Mr. Potter!  I'm so glad you're awake," Dumbledore greeted him.  "It seems you're a bit ahead of schedule to be visiting the hospital ward," he joked.

Harry sat impassively.  "I assume the Death Eater attack was repelled?"

Dumbledore nodded, unfazed by Harry's lack of reaction to his joke. "Indeed.  After your rather persistent wake-up call, I gathered the teachers and headed outside.  The Death Eaters retreated when we exited the castle; we were able to capture four of them, not including the ones you had already stunned."

Harry only nodded.

"And now, I'm afraid, I must hear the whole story.  Do you feel up to telling me what happened?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Harry nodded again.  He told Dumbledore almost everything, from the time he had his first dream of the forest clearing, but neglecting to mention his fight with Hermione.  Although Harry glossed over his torture, he was certain Dumbledore was aware of the extent of what was done to him, for surely he has seen the marks that remained.  Harry described the night in the Forbidden Forest, how he escaped from the Death Eaters and interrupted the ceremony by destroying the orb, and how he fled to the castle.  Dumbledore nodded often and asked for clarification a few times during Harry's recital.  At end, Dumbledore looked every year of his advanced age.

"I will admit, Mr. Potter, that much of what you have told me fills me with alarm.  The orb you described sounds very much like the Orb of Tomsduval, and I wonder by what means Voldemort has acquired it," Dumbledore said.  "It is a very powerful device, who's main attribute is to magnify the power of the bearer, allowing him to cast complex incantations.  It does not, however, usually act like a wand would; Voldemort cannot use it to cast a more powerful Cruciatus curse, but it does give him the power to cast other spells like the one you interrupted, the one to breech Hogwarts' protective wards."

Harry paled.  "But, but it's destroyed now, right?  Voldemort can't use it anymore?"

"Perhaps, perhaps," Dumbledore said.  "It does sound like you were able to destroy the orb, but ancient artifacts such as the Orb of Tomsduval are very sturdy.  It may be possible that Voldemort can re-assemble the orb if he finds the pieces, and if he has enough time.  I shall ask the Order to investigate the properties of the Orb and conduct another search of the Forbidden Forest for any pieces of the Orb."

Dumbledore looked uncomfortable for a moment.  "Harry, I am sorry for everything you've been through, not only for the past few days but over your lifetime as well," he said sadly.  "And I would very much like to ask about this," he said, holding up Harry's letter, "but that can wait for another day.  I only wish you had told us of your plans; after you came to me with your dream, the Order began investigating, and we were formulating a plan of action-"

"If only I had told you!?" Harry exploded.   "If only I had told you!?  Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Easy Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began, "take a deep breath and relax."

But Harry ignored him.  "How could I tell you, when you didn't even let me finish explaining my dream and just dismissed me, saying I've failed in occlumency?  If you had only told me that you were going to do something about it, I could've helped!  Instead, you made it perfectly clear that you were willing to sacrifice Hagrid for me."

"Mr. Potter, I chose not to tell you for your own protection.  I didn't want you placed in harm's way-" Dumbledore began.

"My own protection!?" Harry yelled.  He lifted his shirt and pointed to his scars.  "Here, look at this!  This is the result of your protection!"

For once, Dumbledore was at a loss for words.  He could only look at Harry's wounds.  After a moment, Harry spoke.  "I'm getting tired Professor.  Would you mind leaving so I can get my rest?" Harry asked evenly.

Dumbledore quickly recovered.  "Of course Harry.  We can continue our conversation at a later point.  Rest well."

Harry watched as Dumbledore left, then motioned over Madam Pomfrey.

"Madam Pomfrey," Harry asked, in his weakest voice.  "I'm still feeling rather weak.  I don't think I'm up to any visitors after what happened…" Harry paused, a pained look crossing his face. 

Madam Pomfrey nodded.  "I understand Mr. Potter.  I shall make certain you have your privacy. If you need someone to talk to about your, er, ordeal, I can have someone brought by."

Harry nodded his thanks then turned over, settling into bed.  For a while, Harry's thoughts were in turmoil.  But they eventually settled onto one thing: Hagrid.  Hagrid was dead because of him.  Another life wasted because of that bloody prophecy.  It was only a few months ago that Sirius died, and now Hagrid was gone.  Harry knew he could go insane with guilt if he kept think about it.  He made a promise to himself that he would fulfill that prophecy, that not another life would be lost because of Harry Potter.  He felt that his emotional ties to Sirius, Hagrid, and his parents were a weakness that Voldemort could exploit, so Harry spent his time in the hospital wing building a wall around his heart to block out his feelings, and to plan his future.

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When Harry made his triumphant return to the Great Hall at breakfast two days later, everyone was aware of what he had done the night of the attack.  In fact, Ravenclaw's common room faced the front of the castle, and the entire house was able to watch, as the Gryffindor's who followed Hermione had watched from the balcony.  Several Hufflepuffs and Slytherins also witnessed what happened.  The stories grew with each telling, Hermione having heard one Hufflepuff tell another that Harry had single-handedly defeated fifty Death Eaters.  Hermione was initially overjoyed to see Harry, until she saw his eyes.  To everyone else, Harry seemed to be in good spirits, accepting accolades with grace and participating in friendly conversations.  But there were probably only two people who knew Harry well enough to see through the mask he often wears.  And since Ron, who wasn't known for his sensitivity, wouldn't notice unless it was pointed out, only Hermione was there to see it.  And she saw it in his eyes - nothing.  The smile on his face did not reach his eyes.  There was no emotion there, not the expected embarrassment or irritation at all the attention, no joy at being alive.  There was no life in his eyes, and this scared Hermione as much as anything else had.

Over the next days, Ron and Hermione tried to find a moment alone with Harry, following him around.  Her behavior annoyed Eddie greatly, but she was past caring.  They had to talk to Harry, to make up for what she had said and for Ron's behavior.  But they quickly realized that finding a moment alone with him to impossible.  People were always around Harry, trying to get a piece of their hero, their friend.  Hermione would even risk a loss of Gryffindor points if she could speak to him in class, but he never showed up.

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Harry knew that Dumbledore had expected him to return to classes and catch up with his homework, but Harry would have none of that.  In fact, the time when everyone else was in class was the only time during the day Harry had to himself.  Rather than go to class, Harry would spend his time in the library researching facts about the wizarding world, and he would send and receive countless letters.  Harry was amazed at the things that could be accomplished via owl post and was pleased that everything would work out as he hoped.  Meanwhile at night, under the cover of his invisibility cloak, Harry venture into the restricted section of the library to continue his research.

His absences in his classes did not go unnoticed.  In fact, it all came to a head one night in the library.  Harry was sitting at his now familiar table, books piled around him.   His admirers were scattered throughout, stealing glances at him as he worked.  Professor Snape strode into the room, paused, and then made his way towards Harry when he spotted him.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said with his usual look of contempt.  "I see fame has gone to your head again; you seem to think yourself above taking classes and have missed yet another one without excuse.  That will be one week of detention and thirty points from Gryffindor."

Harry continued writing for a moment, clearly irritating Snape, before setting his quill down and meeting his eyes.  "No," Harry said.

"No?" Snape repeated incredulously.  Then he said, sneering, "Mr. Potter, if you continue to fail to show up for any of my classes or do not take detention as ordered, I will be forced to do everything in my power to get you expelled!"

Harry chuckled, then laughed.  "Expel me? Expel Harry Potter? Ha!" he cried, rising to his feet to face Snape.  "Dumbledore would never expel his secret weapon, his only hope against Voldemort!"  Students in the library, all of who could not help but to watch the spectacle unfold, emitted gasps and shrieks at the sound of Voldemort's name.

"Mr. Potter, your level arrogance sometimes surprises even me.  You think because you benefited from incredible luck that you are above the rules?  You're just like you father," Snape spat, "always thinking you're better than the rest of us!"

Harry slammed his fist on the table.  "That's it! I'm sick and tired of you blaming and hating me for being the son of James Potter.  You are nothing but a pathetic, little man who cannot get over a twenty-year old grudge with a dead man!  You obviously don't know anything about me or the life I've led, so I suggest you bugger off and stick to teaching Potions…Snivellus!"

Snape's face turned white with anger.  Never before had a student addressed him like that, and he would certainly not allow it now, least of all from James Potter's spawn!  Without thinking, simply reacting to his hate and feelings of humiliation, Snape reached into his robe and drew his wand.  But Harry was faster, his training showing through once again.

"Expelliarmus!" he cried, he force of his spell sending Snape flying across the room before landing in a heap by the doorway, unconscious.  The library erupted into chaos, as students stood and scrambled around, unsure what to do.  Madam Pince, who had been watching the exchange, rushed to Snape's side to make sure he was not seriously hurt.  Harry simply sat down and resumed his research, a very satisfied grin on his face.

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After the incident with Snape, Harry knew his time was limited.  While he thoroughly enjoyed knocking Snape out, he knew it would only cause trouble.  Minutes after the incident occurred, Professor Dumbledore appeared and pulled Harry aside.  Based on witnesses, he quickly decided that it was a regrettable act, made in self-defense.  Professor Snape would face sanctions, and Harry had to endure another lecture about self-control and responsibility.  He absences from his classes were not mentioned, but Harry had a feeling it would only be a matter of time before that lecture came up, and he knew there would be consequences if he failed to attend classes after winter break.

Two days later, Harry finally felt everything was ready.  Waiting until everyone had gone to sleep, he cast a silencing charm on his things as he packed them away, and then cast a shrinking spell on his trunk to reduce it to the size of a Quaffle.  Tying the trunk to his Firebolt, Harry dressed in his warmest cloak and grabbed his gloves and scarf.  Leaving another letter on his bed, Harry descended the stairs to the common room and out the portrait hole, under the cover of his invisibility cloak

Harry walked along the empty corridors, heading towards the Astronomy tower.  As he started to climb the stairs of the tower, he heard someone approach.  Standing perfectly still, he waited.

"Harry?  Are you here?" Harry recognized Hermione's voice calling out.  "Listen Harry, I know you're here somewhere, hiding under your invisibility cloak.  I have the Maruader's Map," she said, as she came into view at the bottom the stairs.

Harry cursed.  The map!  He had assumed it was at the bottom of his trunk.  Harry reluctantly removed his cloak, eliciting a small gasp of surprise from Hermione.  "Hermione," Harry said while folding the invisibility cloak and placing inside his robes.  "What are you doing here?" he asked coldly.

Hermione looked as if she wanted to embrace him in a hug, but stopped herself upon hearing Harry's cold voice.  "Harry," she said uncertainly.  "I, er.  I just wanted to make sure you're OK."

For a second, Harry paused in his resolve.  He remembered how Hermione had always been there.  He thought of how nice it would be to have her by his side again, to have everything return as they were before.  But then he remembered what happened in the Department of Mysteries, how Hermione almost died because of him.  He couldn't put her through that again; she deserved better than a life being friends with Harry Potter, her life always in danger.  Harry forced a laugh.  "Yeah, I'm OK Hermione.  Thanks for your concern," he said as he turned and continued up the stairs. 

Hermione followed him.  "Listen Harry, I want to say I'm sor…" she cut herself off when she noticed that Harry was carrying his broom.  With a small trunk tied to it.  Wearing his winter cloak and carrying his gloves and scarf.  In no time, Hermione was able to figure out what Harry was doing.

"You're….you're leaving Hogwarts, aren't you Harry?" she asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer but knowing full well what it would be.

Harry gave her a small smirk.  "You're not the cleverest witch at Hogwarts for nothing," he said.  "Yes, I'm leaving Hogwarts."

Hermione stared at him for a moment.  Then she grew angry.  "What are you thinking?!  You can't leave Hogwarts!"

"And why not?"

At this, Hermione's analytical brain shot into gear.  Surely there were plenty of reasons to stay, and all she had to do was convince him of every one.  "You have to stay Harry," she said, ticking off the reasons on her fingers.  "For one, Hogwarts is the only other place besides the Dursley's where you'll be safe.  For another, you have to learn how to be a fully trained wizard to defeat V-Voldemort, and you can only do that here.  Another reason is that Professor Dumbledore is here and … "

Harry's bark of laughter cut her off.  Then he grew serious.  "Safe?" he asked, in a low voice.  "You call this safe?" he asked, as he opened his robe and exposed his stomach to Hermione, pointing at the torture scars.  Hermione gave a gasp of horror, as she felt tears beginning to form in her eyes.  Hearing about his scars was one thing; seeing them was another.  She wiped her eyes away.  She had to be strong.  Harry just looked at her.  "You think this is bad, you should look at the rest of me.  This is just a taste of what they did to me.  You honestly think I'm safe here?" Harry continued.  "You know better then that Hermione.  Name one year when someone or something wasn't trying to kill me.  I've faced Voldemort four times, five if you count his diary, all while under the safety of Hogwarts."

"And a fully trained wizard?" Harry rambled on.  "Do you honestly think Herbology is going to help me defeat Voldemort?  Or that my knowledge of magical creatures will impress Voldemort into submission?  Or perhaps if I recite enough of what I learned in History of Magic, Voldemort will become so bored he'll fall asleep, and I can subdue him?  No, what I need to learn won't be taught at Hogwarts."

Hermione grabbed the side of her head in frustration.  Things were not going like they should.  She had to stop him from leaving!  "But Professor Dumbledore-," she began.

"Dumbledore?!" Harry exploded.  "You expect Dumbledore to help me?  After he's kept so much from me, kept the truth, what I have the right to know, hidden from me?  After he treats me like a child yet expects me to save the world?  How he sent me to live with the Dursley's for ten years, and how he sends me to go back there every summer?" Harry practically shouted.  "No Hermione," Harry said a low voice.  "I owe absolutely nothing to Dumbledore.  To Dumbledore, I'm nothing but a tool to use against Voldemort."

Hermione stood shell-shocked.  She frantically searched her mind for the words to make him stay, but nothing came.  Harry only looked at her for a moment, daring her to speak.  Then he turned to mount his broom.

That propelled her to act.  "You're not leaving!" she screamed hysterically.  Panicking, Hermione drew her wand and did the only thing that came to her; it was an old spell that served her well in the past.  "Petrificus Totalus!"

Harry's arms and legs immediately shot together as his body became as rigid as a board.  But before he could fall to the ground, he began twitching.  As Hermione watched, Harry slowly began to free himself of the curse, eventually regaining full use of his body.  He turned to Hermione.  "For being such a clever witch, that was a stupid thing to do," he said menacingly.  Harry pointed his wand at her, as Hermione took a fearful step backwards.

"Accio!" Harry muttered under his breath, as Hermione's wand shot out of her grasp and into Harry's open hand.  Tossing Hermione's wand aside, Harry once again turned and mounted his broom.

"Harry, don't leave me!  We need you!  I need you!" Hermione cried out desperately, running to him and clutching his arm as tears ran freely down her face.  "Please don't leave me!" she said, sobbing uncontrollably.

Harry turned to look at her.  He hated to see her cry, and felt the wall he so diligently built around his emotions begin to crumble.  But he had to go through with his plans, for her sake.  "You don't need me Hermione," he said gently, as he released her grip on his arm.  "Knowing me will only get you killed.  You're a great witch Hermione, you have a wonderful future head of you.  Me?  I probably won't last another two years.  You need normalcy, as you said so." he said, then mounted his broom.  He hovered above the tower for a moment, and for second full of hope, Hermione thought he had changed his mind.

"Take care of your self, Hermione," she heard through her sniffles, and then watched as Harry took off into the night and over the Forbidden Forest.  As soon as he was out of sight, she sank to the ground and cried.