Chapter 12 - The Way to Break a Hero
Harry spent most of the day in a fog, moping around from one room to the next, annoying Moody and worrying Remus.
Remus had tried to get Harry to work, just to keep his mind occupied, but he hadn't been able to concentrate.
By the evening, Harry escaped from both Remus and Moody and sought solitude upstairs. Remus found him around midnight sitting on the floor in a room on the second floor with his head against the back wall.
"Harry?" Remus ventured into the room.
Harry was staring at the ceiling. "Why can't I feel him anymore?"
"What?"
"Voldemort. Why can't I feel him anymore?"
Remus stepped further into the room and sat next to Harry. "I'm not sure."
"Guess then."
"He must be blocking his connection with you."
"That's what I thought," said Harry simply. "He must be weak then."
"Why do say that," asked Remus.
"Well, he's blocking me and simultaneously reaching out to Hermione. I thought it was weird at first that I couldn't feel it, when he was reaching her."
"And now?"
Harry shrugged. "I think he's planning something and it makes me nervous that I can't feel him."
Remus massaged his temples, not sure how to respond. Harry stood up abruptly. "I think I'm going to go to bed." He strode quickly from the room.
"Night," Remus called softly after the door closed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry stared at the ceiling of his room. A quick glance at his watch confirmed that only five minutes had passed since he last checked it. It was 4 a.m. and he hadn't been able to sleep all night.
He missed feeling Hermione next to him, missed the soft sound of her rhythmic breathing. Harry turned over roughly, beating his pillow, trying to will himself to sleep. He wondered, vaguely, if she was having as much trouble getting to sleep.
Finally, he gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed. He made his way silently to the kitchen and poured himself a tall glass of juice. He took the juice and padded his way around the empty silent house.
As soon as they graduated, he was going to ask Ron and Hermione to stay in the house with him. He didn't want to live alone in the house with just Remus; it would get too lonely. Besides the house was big enough to house the entire Weasley family three or four times over. He smiled to himself, thinking of the freedom having their own place would mean. Of course, the house would always be the Order's headquarters. He wouldn't have had it any other way.
Before he realized it, he found himself in the library. He couldn't help laughing at himself, unconsciously seeking out Hermione's favorite spot in the house.
He crossed the room to the large desk and set his glass down. Sitting, he fingered the drawer where he knew Sirius's diary was. He had left it there after the day Hermione had shown it to him, not ready at the time to see what was in it.
He pulled it out now and opened it slowly.
I've never seen him so detached before. He's pushing away everyone and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. He broods just like James use to. It's almost too hard to watch.
Harry closed the book, not sure if he wanted to continue. His wounds over his godfather had taken a long time to heal, he wasn't really sure if they were completely closed, but he knew reading this book would be a sure way to re-open them.
He was about to put the book away, but his curiosity got the better of him and he opened it again.
I've talked to Dumbledore today about the future of the Noble and Glorious House of Black. I thought it most fitting to make sure my wishes concerning its disposition were clear and I knew Dumbledore would understand.
I can feel time running short for all of us. No matter what precautions we've put in place, no one is safe, no one except Harry. Dumbledore is convinced of the accuracy of the first prophecy and that means we still have time. There are still two names that need to be placed on that damn prophecy. The problem, of course, is the list of candidates is a short one. I worry most about Ron and Hermione. The two of them know no fear when it comes to protecting him. I just don't think he could take their loss.
Harry flipped through the remaining pages of the diary, but there was nothing more. His heart was pounding wildly. What had Sirius meant by the first prophecy? Did that mean there was another prophecy out there concerning him? And what did he mean he couldn't take the loss of Ron and Hermione?
He knew, from experience, that the adults in his life were all too happy to keep him in the dark about things concerning him. He grabbed the book roughly and stalked from the room, determined to confront Remus with the book. If anyone could tell him what his godfather had meant it had to be Remus.
Not caring if he was asleep, Harry opened the door to Remus's bedroom, but no one was in it. Harry glanced at his watch again. It was only 4:30, too early to be up by anyone's standards.
He headed for the kitchen and halfway there he heard noises. It sounded like three or four people talking in loud whispers. The door was open a crack and Harry leaned slightly against it straining to here the frenzied conversation.
"But are we sure?" Came the voice of Remus. "This could all be a trick, misinformation."
"No," said another voice and Harry was sure it was Arthur Weasley. "The news came from Shacklebolt and he ought to know."
"We can't sit around debating, we need to move," growled the unmistakable voice of Moody. "Someone will need to alert Dumbledore at the school and the rest of the Order members and someone will need to stay behind here with Potter."
There was a pause and then... "Son-of-a... Potter, get in here," raged Moody.
'Damn that eye," thought Harry. He pushed the door open and entered to see a very annoyed Moody and a rather shocked Arthur and Remus.
"How long have you been standing there?" Asked Remus.
"Long enough to know something's happened you don't want me to know about. Is it Voldemort? Has there been another Death Eater attack?" Harry searched the faces of the three men. Moody's was alive with barely controlled energy, but Remus and Arthur's faces were pale and creased with worry.
Harry felt swoop of something deep in his stomach and then for the first time in over a month, his scar was ablaze with fire. He dropped to his knees overcome by the almost forgotten sensation.
"Harry," cried Remus rushing forward and grabbing his shoulders. "What is it?"
Harry gritted his teeth and groaned against the sudden onset of pain that was already beginning to ebb away. "Oh God," he whispered. "No, please."
"What? What happened?" Asked Remus almost frantically.
"He's got her," he said looking up. His eyes were wide with fright and anger and grief. Then the overwhelming feelings of guilt and fright overtook him and he doubled over in Remus's arms. "No please God... Oh God. Oh God, no."
Remus shook him firmly. "Harry, we don't know anything yet. "Nothing's been confirmed."
Harry wrenched free of Remus's hold and staggered across the room, just to be out of physical contact with him. "I felt it," he shouted. "He's happy. He let me feel his happiness. He wants me to know that he's got her."
"Enough," said Moody sharply. "This is accomplishing nothing. Remus, take the floo and go to Dumbledore immediately. Arthur and I will head out to the house. Potter, you stay here."
"Like hell," yelled Harry. "If you don't think I'm going with you, you've just about lost the little mind you have left."
Moody stared at him incredulously. "We'll have to apparate and you don't know how, so you'll stay here."
"Then set up a portkey, because I'm coming."
"No," said Moody simply turning away.
"If you don't, I'll stand in the middle of the damn street and scream my bloody head off for every Ministry official and Death Eater to hear."
"Harry," pleaded Arthur.
"You're being a petulant child, Potter," glared Moody.
"Enough," shouted Remus. "I'll do the portkey." He began searching the room for something small to charm.
"Lupin," began Moody.
"Mad-eye, he's seventeen and he loves her. He has the right to go with us."
Moody opened his mouth to protest, but Remus cut him off. "I'll take responsibility for anything that happens to him."
"Fine," said Moody throwing up his hands.
Remus grabbed an empty salt shaker off the table and pulled out his wand. When he was done, he handed it to Harry. "That should go in about a minute. Harry, you do exactly what Moody and Arthur tell you to. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Harry nodded too grateful for words. He waited holding the salt shaker firmly in his hand and before he knew it, he felt the familiar tug around his navel.
Almost instantly he was in a dark woods. He looked up, the thick trees were barely allowing any moonlight to seep in and it was still too early for there to be any hint of sunlight. Two loud pops rang through the night air and instantly Arthur was strolling up to him. "Come on, Harry. This way," he said gently.
Harry walked fast to maintain his pace with Moody, who was surprisingly quick considering he only had the one good leg. He seemed in his element and that gave him the extra boost of energy.
They had only been walking about three minutes when Harry saw it. The house seemed unnatural sitting alone in the thick trees. Harry moved toward it and instantly saw that the front door had been shattered as well as some of the windows. Over the house, like a giant specter hung the Dark Mark.
"Hermione," he whispered and took off.
"Harry wait," Arthur called after him trying to grab the back of his pajamas.
Harry was too quick and he reached the house and stepped through the broken doorframe without hesitation. "Hermione," he called out tearing through the rooms one by one. "I'm here, just let me know where you are."
He listened, but there was nothing but a cold silence that greeted his ears. In no time whatsoever he made it through the house, but there wasn't a trace of her or Snape.
"Harry," Arthur said, having followed him into the house. "She's not here."
Harry nodded and slowly turned. "Where's Snape," he said through barely controlled anger. "He was supposed to be protecting her."
Arthur stared at him.
"I should have never told her to go," choked out Harry. "She didn't want to. She wanted to stay with me." The anger suddenly returned full force to Harry. "Where the hell is Snape. He was supposed to protect her, to die protecting her, like I would have."
Arthur stepped forward and gripped Harry's shoulders. "He did," he said quietly.
"What?" Breathed Harry.
Arthur gently turned him around and led him out of the cabin to the side of the house. Outside, Moody was standing over a dark bundle of robes. As Harry stepped closer he could see one thin pale arm sticking out of the robes.
Harry turned away when he saw Snape's pale vacant face, completely devoid of life.
Harry spent most of the day in a fog, moping around from one room to the next, annoying Moody and worrying Remus.
Remus had tried to get Harry to work, just to keep his mind occupied, but he hadn't been able to concentrate.
By the evening, Harry escaped from both Remus and Moody and sought solitude upstairs. Remus found him around midnight sitting on the floor in a room on the second floor with his head against the back wall.
"Harry?" Remus ventured into the room.
Harry was staring at the ceiling. "Why can't I feel him anymore?"
"What?"
"Voldemort. Why can't I feel him anymore?"
Remus stepped further into the room and sat next to Harry. "I'm not sure."
"Guess then."
"He must be blocking his connection with you."
"That's what I thought," said Harry simply. "He must be weak then."
"Why do say that," asked Remus.
"Well, he's blocking me and simultaneously reaching out to Hermione. I thought it was weird at first that I couldn't feel it, when he was reaching her."
"And now?"
Harry shrugged. "I think he's planning something and it makes me nervous that I can't feel him."
Remus massaged his temples, not sure how to respond. Harry stood up abruptly. "I think I'm going to go to bed." He strode quickly from the room.
"Night," Remus called softly after the door closed.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harry stared at the ceiling of his room. A quick glance at his watch confirmed that only five minutes had passed since he last checked it. It was 4 a.m. and he hadn't been able to sleep all night.
He missed feeling Hermione next to him, missed the soft sound of her rhythmic breathing. Harry turned over roughly, beating his pillow, trying to will himself to sleep. He wondered, vaguely, if she was having as much trouble getting to sleep.
Finally, he gave up trying to sleep and got out of bed. He made his way silently to the kitchen and poured himself a tall glass of juice. He took the juice and padded his way around the empty silent house.
As soon as they graduated, he was going to ask Ron and Hermione to stay in the house with him. He didn't want to live alone in the house with just Remus; it would get too lonely. Besides the house was big enough to house the entire Weasley family three or four times over. He smiled to himself, thinking of the freedom having their own place would mean. Of course, the house would always be the Order's headquarters. He wouldn't have had it any other way.
Before he realized it, he found himself in the library. He couldn't help laughing at himself, unconsciously seeking out Hermione's favorite spot in the house.
He crossed the room to the large desk and set his glass down. Sitting, he fingered the drawer where he knew Sirius's diary was. He had left it there after the day Hermione had shown it to him, not ready at the time to see what was in it.
He pulled it out now and opened it slowly.
I've never seen him so detached before. He's pushing away everyone and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. He broods just like James use to. It's almost too hard to watch.
Harry closed the book, not sure if he wanted to continue. His wounds over his godfather had taken a long time to heal, he wasn't really sure if they were completely closed, but he knew reading this book would be a sure way to re-open them.
He was about to put the book away, but his curiosity got the better of him and he opened it again.
I've talked to Dumbledore today about the future of the Noble and Glorious House of Black. I thought it most fitting to make sure my wishes concerning its disposition were clear and I knew Dumbledore would understand.
I can feel time running short for all of us. No matter what precautions we've put in place, no one is safe, no one except Harry. Dumbledore is convinced of the accuracy of the first prophecy and that means we still have time. There are still two names that need to be placed on that damn prophecy. The problem, of course, is the list of candidates is a short one. I worry most about Ron and Hermione. The two of them know no fear when it comes to protecting him. I just don't think he could take their loss.
Harry flipped through the remaining pages of the diary, but there was nothing more. His heart was pounding wildly. What had Sirius meant by the first prophecy? Did that mean there was another prophecy out there concerning him? And what did he mean he couldn't take the loss of Ron and Hermione?
He knew, from experience, that the adults in his life were all too happy to keep him in the dark about things concerning him. He grabbed the book roughly and stalked from the room, determined to confront Remus with the book. If anyone could tell him what his godfather had meant it had to be Remus.
Not caring if he was asleep, Harry opened the door to Remus's bedroom, but no one was in it. Harry glanced at his watch again. It was only 4:30, too early to be up by anyone's standards.
He headed for the kitchen and halfway there he heard noises. It sounded like three or four people talking in loud whispers. The door was open a crack and Harry leaned slightly against it straining to here the frenzied conversation.
"But are we sure?" Came the voice of Remus. "This could all be a trick, misinformation."
"No," said another voice and Harry was sure it was Arthur Weasley. "The news came from Shacklebolt and he ought to know."
"We can't sit around debating, we need to move," growled the unmistakable voice of Moody. "Someone will need to alert Dumbledore at the school and the rest of the Order members and someone will need to stay behind here with Potter."
There was a pause and then... "Son-of-a... Potter, get in here," raged Moody.
'Damn that eye," thought Harry. He pushed the door open and entered to see a very annoyed Moody and a rather shocked Arthur and Remus.
"How long have you been standing there?" Asked Remus.
"Long enough to know something's happened you don't want me to know about. Is it Voldemort? Has there been another Death Eater attack?" Harry searched the faces of the three men. Moody's was alive with barely controlled energy, but Remus and Arthur's faces were pale and creased with worry.
Harry felt swoop of something deep in his stomach and then for the first time in over a month, his scar was ablaze with fire. He dropped to his knees overcome by the almost forgotten sensation.
"Harry," cried Remus rushing forward and grabbing his shoulders. "What is it?"
Harry gritted his teeth and groaned against the sudden onset of pain that was already beginning to ebb away. "Oh God," he whispered. "No, please."
"What? What happened?" Asked Remus almost frantically.
"He's got her," he said looking up. His eyes were wide with fright and anger and grief. Then the overwhelming feelings of guilt and fright overtook him and he doubled over in Remus's arms. "No please God... Oh God. Oh God, no."
Remus shook him firmly. "Harry, we don't know anything yet. "Nothing's been confirmed."
Harry wrenched free of Remus's hold and staggered across the room, just to be out of physical contact with him. "I felt it," he shouted. "He's happy. He let me feel his happiness. He wants me to know that he's got her."
"Enough," said Moody sharply. "This is accomplishing nothing. Remus, take the floo and go to Dumbledore immediately. Arthur and I will head out to the house. Potter, you stay here."
"Like hell," yelled Harry. "If you don't think I'm going with you, you've just about lost the little mind you have left."
Moody stared at him incredulously. "We'll have to apparate and you don't know how, so you'll stay here."
"Then set up a portkey, because I'm coming."
"No," said Moody simply turning away.
"If you don't, I'll stand in the middle of the damn street and scream my bloody head off for every Ministry official and Death Eater to hear."
"Harry," pleaded Arthur.
"You're being a petulant child, Potter," glared Moody.
"Enough," shouted Remus. "I'll do the portkey." He began searching the room for something small to charm.
"Lupin," began Moody.
"Mad-eye, he's seventeen and he loves her. He has the right to go with us."
Moody opened his mouth to protest, but Remus cut him off. "I'll take responsibility for anything that happens to him."
"Fine," said Moody throwing up his hands.
Remus grabbed an empty salt shaker off the table and pulled out his wand. When he was done, he handed it to Harry. "That should go in about a minute. Harry, you do exactly what Moody and Arthur tell you to. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Harry nodded too grateful for words. He waited holding the salt shaker firmly in his hand and before he knew it, he felt the familiar tug around his navel.
Almost instantly he was in a dark woods. He looked up, the thick trees were barely allowing any moonlight to seep in and it was still too early for there to be any hint of sunlight. Two loud pops rang through the night air and instantly Arthur was strolling up to him. "Come on, Harry. This way," he said gently.
Harry walked fast to maintain his pace with Moody, who was surprisingly quick considering he only had the one good leg. He seemed in his element and that gave him the extra boost of energy.
They had only been walking about three minutes when Harry saw it. The house seemed unnatural sitting alone in the thick trees. Harry moved toward it and instantly saw that the front door had been shattered as well as some of the windows. Over the house, like a giant specter hung the Dark Mark.
"Hermione," he whispered and took off.
"Harry wait," Arthur called after him trying to grab the back of his pajamas.
Harry was too quick and he reached the house and stepped through the broken doorframe without hesitation. "Hermione," he called out tearing through the rooms one by one. "I'm here, just let me know where you are."
He listened, but there was nothing but a cold silence that greeted his ears. In no time whatsoever he made it through the house, but there wasn't a trace of her or Snape.
"Harry," Arthur said, having followed him into the house. "She's not here."
Harry nodded and slowly turned. "Where's Snape," he said through barely controlled anger. "He was supposed to be protecting her."
Arthur stared at him.
"I should have never told her to go," choked out Harry. "She didn't want to. She wanted to stay with me." The anger suddenly returned full force to Harry. "Where the hell is Snape. He was supposed to protect her, to die protecting her, like I would have."
Arthur stepped forward and gripped Harry's shoulders. "He did," he said quietly.
"What?" Breathed Harry.
Arthur gently turned him around and led him out of the cabin to the side of the house. Outside, Moody was standing over a dark bundle of robes. As Harry stepped closer he could see one thin pale arm sticking out of the robes.
Harry turned away when he saw Snape's pale vacant face, completely devoid of life.
