Chapter 42

Night before Battle

In, and About, the Darkness

Harry had sat there for about 20 minutes staring into the darkness. The soft murmur of voices from the bedroom was very calming and despite himself, he felt like he might possibly drift off. But then Cassie moved on the sofa and he was instantly awake again.

"I'm cold, Harry." He was surprised. He had given her a fairly warm blanket and she had all her clothes on, but maybe she just slept cold. He thought about giving her the one he was using but that would leave him without one. Not that the house was that cold, but he needed something over him as he slept.

"I'll go get you another one from the bedroom closet. They aren't asleep yet."

There was a long moment of silence. "I don't think that would help."

"What about that hot water bottle we used earlier for Hermione?"

She didn't answer for a few seconds. "Yeah, that might help a little. But it's a lot of work."

"That's all right. I wasn't sleeping anyway. Where did we put the stupid thing?" He got up from the chair. "I guess I better turn on the light. I think it just got put down on the . . . floor." When he turned on the light, he looked at Cassie first. She was very pale. He went over and knelt down by her, taking her hand in his. It was like ice. "Are you all right?" She shook her head rather decisively. "Are you sick?" She shook her head again. Suddenly, a thought crossed Harry's mind. "You're frightened, aren't you?" She didn't move for a minute but then her eyes met his and he saw the terror in them. He wasn't really surprised that she was frightened. He was scared, and he knew what was going on. "I don't blame you. I'm frightened for you, too. This chair is abysmally uncomfortable anyway. I'll come lay on the floor next to you, okay?" She nodded a little.

He retrieved the blanket and a rather small flat throw pillow from the chair. He turned off the light and a few minutes later was stretched out on the floor next to the couch. He realized rather quickly that uncomfortable as the chair was, it was better than the floor, but now he wasn't sure what to do. She was still wide awake, he could tell by how stiff she was holding herself, and he didn't want to get up and leave her. "Do you feel better?"

"Not really." Oh, great. He really didn't know what to do now. Maybe she would eventually settle down and go to sleep anyway, even if she was frightened so maybe if he just stayed there and held her hand she would . . . then he heard the soft sob. He sat up and reached for her shoulder but she had turned her head into the pillow and he found her back instead. He rubbed her back gently, feeling each tremor as she sobbed into the pillow. After a few minutes, she stopped and rolled onto her side again. Harry moved his hand off her and brought it back down to his side. They spoke very quietly, not wanting to wake Ron and Hermione.

"Try to get a little sleep, at least, Cassie. And don't be frightened. I'll make sure you get home tomorrow before we leave."

"That's not what's scaring me."

"Oh. What is, then?" He hated to sound stupid, but he honestly couldn't think of what else could be bothering her.

"Everything, I guess. I mean, you three seem to really believe in this magic stuff." Harry bit back a retort. "But, Ron was saying something about fighting this Voldemort guy, but he didn't mention using m . . .m . .magic on him (another soft sob) and I don't understand why you would get involved in some war if you're trying not to get killed. I'm scared you'll get hurt and I'll never see you again." She ended the sentence on a breathless half sob.

Harry knelt there next to her for a long minute and then he felt as much as saw her start shivering. It was obvious she was really upset and it wasn't because of the cold. "Cassie, would it be all right if I . . .sat with you tonight?"

"What?" Her voice was soft but Harry thought he heard a note of hope in her response.

"If I just sat on the couch and you sat by me and we talked?"

"I'd like that." He stood up and grabbed the blanket. Forget the stupid little pillow. She sat up to make room for him. He thought about just sitting with his feet on the floor and having her sit next to him but she was still shivering and he decided that she really needed him to hold her. He remembered how they sat when they watched movies (it seemed like years ago rather than hours) and he swung his feet up onto the couch. She quickly scooted back over to him and snuggled into his arms. She was cool and still shaking slightly, but he quickly arranged both blankets around her and settled down into the corner of the couch. He stroked her hair softly with his right hand. His left hand found hers under the blanket, and he entwined their fingers. Her shivering stopped a few moments later, and Harry thought that he might actually be able to sleep tonight as well, after she finally drifted off. "Thanks, Harry. This is much better." It was definitely better. He was just glad that her mother was nowhere in the country. Otherwise, he'd have worse things to fear than the Dark Lord.

Neither of them said anything for quite a few minutes and he could feel her relax as her breathing slowed. He thought that she might actually be asleep, but then she spoke. "I've been thinking, Harry."

"Mm?"

"When you told me about Voldemort trying to kill you and about how his gang of followers is trying to kill you, too, I think you left out some major parts of the story."

"Well, I tried to get the important parts." He laughed softly into her hair.

"Now that you've sort of spilled the beans about your being a . . . wizard, um, . . . and all, maybe you could tell me the rest because I still don't understand some things about it. I heard everything Ron and Hermione told you earlier but a lot of it didn't make sense to me. I kept thinking that if I just kept listening, maybe I would understand it, but I still don't."

"I don't blame you. It's sort of . . . . well, complicated." She laughed this time and her fingers tightened in his. "Plus you're coming in to the middle of a very long story."

"Ron said I was brilliant so I'd like to try to understand." Harry sighed. It was so difficult to explain. Where did one start trying to explain the very tricky tale of his relationship with Voldemort? Especially to someone with no knowledge of magic or the Wizarding world. He took another deep breath. "Is it that difficult?"

"Actually, yes. I still don't understand parts of it and there are some things that no one understands. I don't even think Voldemort understands it and he's the . . . Well, I'll try to explain but if you don't understand something, just ask." She nodded and Harry started.

"Voldemort is, as you've probably already guessed, a wizard. He is very powerful and also very evil. Many years ago, I'd say about 20 or so, he was well on his way to taking over complete power of the entire world. And I don't just mean the wizards and witches. I think he also was terrorizing Muggles - just average people, you know?"

"Why?"

"I don't really know. I guess like any dictator he craved power. I do know that he wanted everyone to be afraid of him. And he was pretty well on the way to accomplishing that. He made people afraid to oppose him by using, uh, torture and fear and death. He killed people that tried to stop him. Basically these were the same tactics used by bad guys everywhere. The only difference is that he wasn't using guns and prisons and things. He was using magic . . . ."

"There was nothing that could stop him from using magic?"

"He was using pretty strong magic. Dark magic. Not too many people could fight him."

"I don't understand that."

"Yeah. Well, let me explain it this way. If you have a gun and I have a gun and we both are pretty decent shots and we take aim at each other and shoot, well, the bullets have a pretty good chance of killing both of us. Because the gun is a mechanical device that just shoots where it is pointed. But magic isn't like that. It's the power behind the spell that makes the difference. So, if a really powerful wizard and a not-so-powerful wizard were to, uh, cast the same curses on each other, well, one might kill but the other one just wouldn't be effective. Uh, I've cast spells on people that just haven't done anything because I didn't have the 'strength' behind it."

"Oh. I guess I can understand that."

"Anyway, so he was pretty much the most powerful wizard in the whole world at that time and there wasn't much that anyone could do to stop him. People were trying. There was a small group of people . . . . that were fighting him, trying to learn his weaknesses, tricking him, killing his, uh, Death Eaters, etc. But they weren't making much progress. At least, that's what I think. This was about the time I was born so I only know what I've been told by other people."

"They were really brave, then?"

"Very brave. My parents . . . . were part of it. After I was born, they went into hiding. I'm not really sure why. I think they were trying to protect me."

"Oh, they were hiding in an invisible house like this one. That's what you were saying earlier."

"Yeah. But the protection didn't work because . . . .because someone, someone . . ." Harry heard his voice catch. He wasn't sure he could keep going. This was harder than he thought it was going to be. Cassie didn't say anything but just waited for him to compose himself. " . . . .someone who was supposed to be their friend sold them out to Voldemort. And he came to their house. I was one year old. And he came to their house and he killed my dad first." Harry was speaking mechanically now, trying to get it all out before he couldn't speak anymore, "My dad was trying to protect my mom and me. He tried to fight Voldemort all by himself but he couldn't. . . . and Voldemort killed him. Then he found my mum and me." Harry could still, three years later, hear the voices as they had replayed in his head when the Dementors were near. Voldemort had told him mother to leave, to get out of the way, but she . . .she hadn't. "Anyway, he just wanted to kill me and told her to move but she wouldn't and so he killed her, too. And then he tried to kill me." He took a deep breath. "But when the spell hit me, I didn't die." Her breath caught and Harry knew she was waiting for more. "I didn't die. I got this, uh, scar instead. And somehow the spell bounced back on him and he almost died."

"What!?"

"No, it's true. I know it sounds strange. No one else can really explain it either. But everyone thought he died instead of me. They called me, well, they still call me The Boy Who Lived."

"That's incredible! So your scar . . ."

"Yeah. It's easily recognized, needless to say. I'm probably one of the most famous people in the world to wizards."

"Oh. That explains a lot of things, doesn't it?" Harry thought that was a very profound statement. "But he wasn't dead, obviously."



"No. He wasn't dead. He had been trying to become immortal, you see, and I think that he had done enough of that sort of magic that he was almost impossible to kill. Anyway, for 10 years almost everyone thought he was dead and then . . . . he figured out to come back, how to get a body again."

"You're kidding? He'd been . . . a ghost?"

"Not really a ghost. I'm not really sure how to explain what he was. He was like a . . . force. An evil force, but he had to live in other bodies."

"That's not possible, Harry."

"Yeah. That's what most wizards think, too. But whatever you think, that's what he did. He lived in animals for a while, hiding in the dark places of the world. Then he finally, uh, possessed the body of a, um, professor at my school, at Hogwarts and . . . that's when he started trying to figure out how to kill me." She didn't interrupt here, although he could feel her shaking her head against his chest. "Anyway, two years ago, he managed it. He got another body." Somehow that simple sentence did not convey the absolute horror of that night. The terror, the fear, the certainty that death was coming for him like it had for Cedric, the rush of wind as the green flash of light, Oh, God! He swallowed hard. "And now he's got his old group back together and he's trying to get back to where he was before in strength and power. And he's also trying to get rid of me."

"For revenge?"

"Well, I imagine that's part of it. But also . . . Well, this is where it gets sort of . . ."

"Don't say complicated, please."

"No, I was going to say . . . . um, tricky?"

"Tricky?"

"Well, yeah. No one is quite sure about this part."

"I'm not quite sure about any of it."

"I can understand that. You probably think I'm insane and I don't blame you. I really wish I was. Then they could lock me in a nice padded cell and I could eat Jell-o and applesauce for the rest of my life." Oh, where had that come from? He swallowed the bitterness in his mouth and forced a smile. She wouldn't be able to see it, but maybe she could hear it in his voice. "Anyway, somehow, we're, uh, linked."

"Linked! You and Voldemort?"

"Yeah. When he cast the, uh, killing curse on me, he put part of his power into me. Somehow, he, uh, . . . made me like him. We're connected. I feel his thoughts a lot of the time and when he's near me the scar hurts and he can sometimes feel me and he's used me sometimes to . . . ." Oh, God! He was not sure he could continue with this. Trying to explain the depth of this connection was much harder than he thought it was going to be. He floundered around in his brain desperately for some way he could hurry this up. This was terrible. He felt the tears, then, building up in the back of his throat. Oh, Sirius! Voldemort had used him and Sirius had been killed! It was all his fault! His stupidity had killed his godfather! The wound was suddenly opened again and Harry thought he just might die from the agony. Finally, he couldn't hold it back anymore and he felt the hot tears gathering in his eyes and they started down his face. He tried to keep from sobbing openly, but he knew that she felt it anyway. She didn't say anything, just turned around his arms, laid her head against his chest, and let her arms slip around his waist. She just held him as he cried and he thought that it had been a long time since anyone had done anything as nice for him. He had no idea how long he cried he just knew that when he was done he felt a lot better, despite the embarrassment and the sticky face and the fact that his shirt was damp. She kept her arms around him for a long time afterwards and finally he was able to speak again.

"Sorry about that."

"Don't be. I'm not."

"I don't usually . . ."

"Yeah. I bet."

He cleared his throat. "Anyway. Somehow, to make this just as basic as possible, I am, I guess, the only one who can fight him because somehow my power and his are . . . equal."

"Say that again, Harry."

"Well, I don't know. I'm not that powerful of a wizard, really, I don't think. But there's something about me that he has to get rid of. He has to, if he wants to survive."

"Oh."

"Like I said it's kind of tricky."

"So, you have to fight him. You're the only one that even has a chance to kill him."

"Yeah." The prophecy Dumbledore had told him about last year flashed through his head as it always did when any discussion of Voldemort was happening and he briefly considered talking to her about it, but he dismissed the idea. He had never even told Ron or Hermione. He didn't like to talk about it all.

"You're still pretty young."

"Yeah, but at least I'm almost 17 now. I fought him the first time, uh, the second time when I was 11."

"11?"

"Uh-huh. He's tried a lot of times since then. I"m always sure that this time I . . .won't make it. But somehow - I think mainly through luck, I guess, but somehow - I've always managed to survive but then he's always gotten away, too, madder than ever, and more determined to kill me the next time." She made no comment but Harry was sure that she understood everything he was not telling her. "Now, the wizarding world is trying to get rid of him and we've been having this . . . war for the last year or so."

"Mm."

"Dumbledore, the main opposition guy I guess you could call him, hoped that if everyone thought I was dead that Voldemort would initiate another battle and then he could suddenly bring me out and I could kill him in a big surprise attack." That was a pretty clinical explanation of what was bound to be several hours of pure hell. He had seen enough wizarding battles in this war to convince him that they fit basically anyone's perception of the fiery pits of Hades. The curses flashing around, the screams of the curse casting as well as the screams of those on the receiving end of Crucio, the wands flashing, the heat from fires that started from deflected spells, the presence of the devil himself . . . . It was all pretty horrific. And that was even disregarding the fact that Harry himself would undoubtedly be in head-splitting agony from being so close to Voldemort . Oh, yeah. And the fact that he was going to be expected to kill someone. It was going to be just a whole lot of chuckles.

"And that's what is supposed to happen tomorrow at . . . the Ministry."

"Yeah. That about sums it up."

"Do you think it will work?"

That was the question, wasn't it? The plan was good, Harry was sure, but something usually went wrong even with their best plans. And he had a strange feeling about things. It didn't feel right, somehow. He was quite sure that he wasn't seeing some aspect of things and that he was in danger if he didn't figure it out. "I don't know. I hope so. I just don't think this can go on much longer."

"How are you supposed to actually . . .kill him, if he's that strong?"

"Oh, Jeesh. You certainly know how to ask the hard questions, don't you?" He lay his head back against the couch. "It is morning yet?" She laughed along with him softly. "I don't want to try to explain this. It's just too . . . ." He wanted to say 'complicated' but didn't dare. The whole thing about their wands not working against each other and the fact that he had been forced to develop an entire new way to do battle with him etc., he just didn't have the strength to go into it tonight.

"Awful." She finished his sentence, but he didn't understand her.

"What?"

"You said it's just too . . . . I thought you were going to say awful. I don't think I could kill someone."

"Oh, no, that's not it. I think I actually will . . . ." No. Oh, had he told himself that lie so often that he actually believed it? He knew he wouldn't enjoy it. He just knew he wouldn't. Everyone else assumed he would love to get rid of the terrible monster that had killed so many good wizards and his friends and his parents. But she knew, didn't she? She knew that it still meant killing someone, no matter how worthless they were, and it was still going to be him that had to do it! Him! And he was going to have to live with it afterward. But still. "He's a really bad wizard, Cassie."

"I know. But you're a really, um, good person, Harry. The one fact doesn't stop the other from being true. Good people shouldn't have to kill, Harry. Not if there was any justice in the world."

"Then there's no justice. Because it takes good people to fight against evil. Or evil always wins."

"I agree completely. Completely. History has taught us that. But that doesn't make the fighting any easier." And Harry said nothing in response, because there was nothing he could say.