A/N: So much has happened in the last five chapters that I feel rather spent, so don't be surprised if the next update isn't here tomorrow. I never take a break from writing for very long, though; usually it only takes a day or two before I move forward again. I did start another "story" and I have posted the first installment. It's basically scenes from this story that Harry didn't witness. I thought it might be fun to write some of those, and so far it has been. It's therapy for when I'm feeling stuck on a particular section of the main tale. If I sound a little subdued in my responses below, well, I'm feeling a bit tired and down, but it's not because of you guys. It's just been a long, hard day.
Thorfinna: You are very kind. Reading the story through in one sitting must have really been something. I hope it flows okay.
PhoenixTearsp322: If you're starting to come up with lines of your own, maybe it's a sign that it's time to write a story of your own. :-) In Phoenix Fudge saw the light before it was too late. Of course, he could have gone the other way... I think it's a possibility worth exploring.
Danae: Fudge has surrounded himself with yes men and people with evil intentions (Malfoy). As a result, he is slowly being corrupted. Thank you so much for the review!
jesse: Nice to meet you! Thanks for the great feedback!
Huskerinexile: I'm going to take a shot in the dark and guess that you're from Nebraska, but you don't live there anymore. When I read your review I got this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, because I realized exactly what you were talking about. It's been YEARS since I saw The Little Mermaid, but you're right – that scene seemed way too much like the movie. It's been bothering me ever since. I've been subtly reworking those several lines ever since so the comparison isn't so obvious, because that's not what I was going for at all. I also did not mean to imply that Malfoy kept the box, but rather that it ended up in Ministry keeping. Fudge certainly won't let anyone near it who isn't a close supporter of his, though.
totallystellar: Hmm, maybe you're right about the story genre. Yeah, it would be fun to write a chapter where Harry busts Professor Thornby out... but don't hold your breath. That would be a little bit too "Superhero Harry" for this story. ;-)
Kaye: Glad you're feeling better! Bellaton was the only thing that kept Harry from trying to take everybody on at once. Blame him, but he had good reasons. :-)
Claudia: Another newcomer who read the story in one go! I'm really glad you liked it, and welcome, welcome, welcome!
captuniv: I guess I am starting to lean toward the dark side just a little, but Harry's more mature than he was in Phoenix, so he can handle things better. Whiny Harry was just such a big pain in the butt... I couldn't write him that way. Thank you so much for reviewing!
Jedi Buttercup: Nice to see you, as always! At least one of your questions will get answered in this chapter – why Ron was cursed instead of Harry.
Jemma Blackwell (Penny): Your reviews warmed my heart. Really. Thank you so much for the encouragement. I believe that I am my own harshest critic, so it's absolutely wonderful to know that you thought the story was worth spending your time on. I hope you continue to be entertained!
Chapter 31: Difficult Truths
When Harry opened his eyes the next morning it took him a moment to remember where he was and why. The events of the night before came rushing back into his head, and his heart sank into his feet. He sat up with a groan, feeling as if he hadn't slept at all. Then again, he had been up for half the night.
Harry didn't feel like seeing anyone else, but his stomach was grumbling too loudly to ignore. He staggered down to the breakfast room to find all three adults already there. Each seemed lost in his own world. The circles under Lupin's eyes told Harry that he hadn't gotten any rest. Sirius was picking at his food, and Bellaton was poring over the Daily Prophet.
"Good morning, Harry," Sirius said quietly. "Did you sleep?"
"A little, but not well," Harry admitted.
"You look like I feel – awful," said Sirius.
"Have some breakfast. You'll feel better," said Bellaton, not looking up from his study of the paper.
"Look who's talking," Sirius scoffed. "You've barely touched your food."
Harry refrained from mentioning the fact that Sirius wasn't eating either. "What are they saying?" Harry asked Bellaton.
"Actually, it's not bad," he said, looking up at Harry for the first time. His face was as haggard as Lupin's. "Fudge is taking a hit from the press on the 'secret law' thing, and Grayson was identified by several bystanders. In general, Celeste is coming out as the victim – her and Ron both – even though everyone knows what she is now." He looked at Harry's empty plate. "Eat," he repeated.
Harry took a sausage and some fruit, but everything tasted like ashes in his mouth. I wonder what they serve for breakfast in Azkaban, he thought.
Harry was forcing down a chunk of banana when there came a tapping sound at the window. "Pigwidgeon!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up to let the tiny owl in. Pigwidgeon was normally a hyperactive bird, but at the moment he was very calm – almost subdued. Harry took the attached letter and eagerly tore it open.
Dearest Harry,
We thought you'd like to know that Ron is awake and doing well. His chest seems to be paining him a bit, but Healer Bigelow from St. Mungo's is here to look after him. He says that Ron should make a full recovery. Ron won't be returning to school just yet, of course, but Dumbledore will let you know when he's coming.
I want to thank you for standing by Ron last night. It means the world to me and to all of us. If you ever need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask. You know that we think of you as family here, and you will always be welcome at the Burrow.
With love,
Molly
P.S. I am so sorry about everything.
Harry folded up the letter. He knew exactly whom Mrs. Weasley meant by "everything".
"What's up?" said Sirius.
"Ron's awake," said Harry.
"That's good," said Lupin. It was the first thing Harry had heard him say since leaving the conference the night before.
Pigwidgeon hooted dolefully. Harry stroked the tiny owl with one finger and gave him some bits of a muffin. He had heard it said that owls were affected by the mood of their owners; if Pigwidgeon's odd behavior was any guide, there was plenty of truth to that saying. "Hold on, Pig, and I'll send something back with you," said Harry. He stood up from the table and headed for the writing desk in the next room. Pigwidgeon fluttered after him, hooting the whole way. It was as if he were urging Harry to hurry up.
Harry pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and a quill. He waved Pigwidgeon out of the way, dipped the quill in an inkpot, and began to write.
Dear Molly,
Thanks for letting me know about Ron. I'm really glad that he's awake. Tell him to hurry up and get better, because otherwise class will be really dull, and Snape needs someone to beat up on.
Yours,
Harry
P.S. Thanks for all those nice things you said.
Harry folded up the letter and dripped some candle wax on the flap. He made the little lightning bolt seal he'd invented and reached for the owl. Pigwidgeon was hopping around so much that Harry almost couldn't tie it to his leg, but he managed somehow. Harry carried him back to the window and tossed him out. "Safe journey, Pig," he said. Pigwidgeon wobbled around in the air for a few seconds before catching a breeze and soaring away.
Harry was just shutting the window when the fireplace roared green and Dumbledore stepped out. "Good morning, everyone," he said gravely. "As you see, Ardoc, I received your owl. I have much to do today, so whatever it is, I hope you can discuss it now."
"At least you could have told us that Albus was coming," Sirius grumbled. "We look like we just rolled out of bed."
"We did just roll out of bed," said Bellaton. "My apologies. I sent the owl in the middle of the night."
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Rudeness is not my intention, Ardoc, but I really do not have much time to linger."
"You might want to sit down for this," said Bellaton.
Everyone paused. Harry took his seat at the table again and Lupin looked up. Dumbledore raised one snowy eyebrow. "Very well," he said, pulling up a chair. "You have my full attention."
"I know why Grayson attacked Ron instead of Harry last night," said Bellaton.
Now he really had everyone's attention. "Why?" said Sirius.
"He was sent to assassinate Harry, I'm sure of it, but he changed his mind at the last second," said Bellaton. He paused for a moment and then said, "Ron is a Singer."
Harry felt like the ground had just fallen away beneath him.
"What?" said Lupin in hushed tones.
"Are you certain, absolutely certain?" said Dumbledore anxiously.
"Oh, yes," said Bellaton. "I felt a resonance from him while Celeste was Singing. Celeste must know as well. If I noticed it, then she must have felt it more strongly. She was touching him."
"Why didn't you say anything before?" said Sirius.
"We had enough to deal with last night," said Bellaton. "Besides, I wasn't sure that it should be made common knowledge quite yet."
"So now we know what Ronald's potential is," said Dumbledore softly. "Unfortunately, Voldemort knows as well."
"He should begin training as soon as possible," said Bellaton.
"Hold on there," said Sirius. "Surely you're going to see how Ron feels about this? He doesn't even know yet!"
"Ron will eventually Sing, even without training," said Bellaton. "The problem is, he'll make things happen without meaning to, like setting the house on fire or calling down a thunderstorm. At this point it's just a question of when."
"This isn't like what happened to me, is it?" said Harry. "What I mean is – whatever Professor Thornby did – is it as powerful as Donum Vitae or Avada Kedavra?"
"No and no," said Bellaton. "Ron did not gain the ability to Sing because of what Celeste did, and her spell was not as powerful as that. He must have been born with the talent. Harry, I must confess that I never expected Ron to have this skill – I expected you to have it."
"Why?" said Harry. "Because of Donum Vitae?"
"Yes," said Bellaton. "After I grew the Bristlebark Tree in the garden last summer, Celeste told me that she thought she had felt a resonance. We neither of us gave it much thought until you used Donum Vitae to save Severus' life. Once we realized how you had learned it, we assumed that you had also gained the talent of Singing, and that it had been you that Celeste felt in the garden." He shook his head. "But you, Ron, and Hermione were all listening that day. It was Ron all along."
Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his forehead. "You have not made my task any easier, Ardoc," he said. "Very well. I will go speak to Molly, Arthur, and Ronald before I go to Azkaban. It will be up to them to decide how to handle this and whether or not to tell their other children."
"You're going to Azkaban?" said Lupin, perking up.
"I will never get there if I sit here and answer questions all day," Dumbledore said.
"Will you tell her that… that…"
Dumbledore smiled. "I will. Get some rest, Remus. You will do her no good if you waste away to nothing."
"Thank you," said Lupin, sitting back in his chair. He looked relieved and weary, as if he had been waiting for permission to sleep.
"I take my leave," said Dumbledore. "I will leave it to you, Harry, to inform Hermione. I trust that you will do this discreetly."
"Yes, sir," Harry said proudly.
"Keep your spirits up, all of you," said Dumbledore. "I will return later today." He threw a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and stepped in. "The Burrow!" he said loudly, and he was gone.
"If no one objects, I'm going to bed," said Lupin.
"Same here," said Bellaton.
Sirius and Harry voiced no complaints, and they were soon alone in the breakfast room.
"Sirius," said Harry after a moment, "what is Azkaban like?"
Sirius turned a pair of shadowed eyes on his godson. "I'm not sure you want to know," he said.
"Yes, I do," said Harry.
"Knowing will only make this harder for you."
"I don't care."
Sirius sighed. "I suppose you're old enough to handle it. Ever since you came to Hogwarts you've been handling things that most full-grown wizards would balk at. Where to begin… with the island itself, I suppose. It's in the middle of a vast lake somewhere in Britain."
Harry frowned. "What lake is that?"
Sirius shook his head. "I don't know its proper name or exactly where it is, but Dumbledore probably does. It's a place like Hogwarts; Muggles can't find it. In fact, I'm not sure that wizards can find it unless someone tells them where it is."
"Why don't you know where it is?" said Harry. "You swam the lake and left on foot from the other side."
"I don't remember too much about my arrival beyond the boat ride," said Sirius, "and when I escaped, I simply walked until I found a town. I don't remember the name of the town either. I was desperate to get to you before Peter did you in, and there wasn't room for much else in my head. Besides, I never wanted to go back again. Why would I care where Azkaban was?"
Sirius took a sip from his coffee cup and continued. "A fortress stands on the island. It's tall and black and cold. Believe me, when you're sitting in the boat with the dementors, watching that thing drift closer and closer… you know your life is over." He frowned at Harry's expression. "I told you this wouldn't be easy," he said, "but I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you."
"I don't want you to," Harry said.
"There are cells inside," said Sirius. "That's what most of the fortress is – cells. Hundreds of them. You have to do something pretty terrible to get sent to Azkaban, but you'd be surprised at how many are taken. I explored the fortress as a dog many times before I finally escaped. I had to find the best way out, you see. Harry, there are people in there that have been long forgotten. Their friends and families are dead; their files gather dust in Ministry file cabinets. No one even remembers that they exist."
Harry swallowed hard.
"The dementors are always present. Every day they glide through the halls, feeding off the prisoners' emotions. You know what they're like. Imagine being close to them every day for the rest of your miserable life. I remember one time not too long after I came there; a young man was put in the cell next to mine. For a full day he screamed that he was innocent. The next day he began babbling about how he hadn't meant to do it, and the next he was shouting utter nonsense. Completely mad in less than three days." Sirius gazed sadly into his cup.
"Does it always happen so fast?" Harry asked.
"It depends," said Sirius. "Most take a bit longer than that, though. Eventually they just give up, you see. They lose all hope and there's no reason to live, so they stop doing anything at all, including eating. You can't starve to death, though, even if you aren't aware of what you're doing; the dementors keep you healthy enough to go on living. If you don't eat, they come in and hold your mouth open while they pour stew down your throat.
"Not everyone goes mad, of course. I kept my sanity, but as Remus can tell you, I am not the same person that I once was. Sometimes bits of my old self show through, but he's only a shadow now. A shadow and a memory."
"But you were a special case," said Harry. "You were innocent, so you had a reason to keep on going."
"That's not what kept me sane," said Sirius. "Innocent people can go mad just as easily as the guilty. Dumbledore told the truth when he said that they don't suffer as much as the guilty do, but that doesn't last forever. You have to resist that little voice inside that chips away at you, telling you that you deserve to be where you are. The eventual breaking of an innocent prisoner is one of the sweetest treats for a dementor. When they sense that one is near the brink, they swarm around the cell like locusts, feeding off the downward spiral.
"It was the desire for revenge that kept me whole, Harry. I know it sounds awful, but it's true. I wanted the world to know what Peter had done. Time passed, though, and I began to realize that I would die in Azkaban one day. I was giving in, but then I saw that photograph in Fudge's newspaper, and I found a new reason to live – you. Of course, some of the guilty stay sane, too. I have heard that Bellatrix Lestrange is as much her old self as she ever was." He shivered. "I can't even begin to imagine how black her soul must be to be virtually unaffected by Azkaban."
"What about Professor Thornby?" Harry said softly.
"Dumbledore thinks she'll make it," said Sirius. "She's a strong woman. She knew what might happen if her talent was revealed, and she chose to go ahead and reveal it. She has that knowledge and her duty to you to keep her sane."
"But she didn't really have a choice," said Harry. "It was either Sing or let Ron die!"
"No, Harry. She did have a choice, even if we all knew which one she would make. It was leave you behind or let Ron die. And it wasn't just you she left – it was Albus, Ardoc, and Remus, too. Think about it, Harry. Ron wasn't the person she was assigned to protect – you were. It can't have been easy for her to forsake her duty."
Despite Sirius' reassurances, Harry was worried about his guardian. The loss of her voice had obviously struck her hard. Harry had no doubt that Malfoy had done it to demoralize her as much as to render her talent useless.
"Dumbledore will boost her spirits," Sirius said gently. "He'll remind her that we aren't leaving her alone. I'm sure he'll visit as often as possible."
"Yeah," Harry said bitterly, "until Fudge passes another law banning visits to Azkaban."
"Be careful, Harry," Sirius said gravely. "That jaded attitude won't get you anywhere. Believe me, I know."
"I think Remus was right. There's no way Fudge will let her go, not even if he has to write all kinds of awful laws to keep her there. What good is hoping when what you hope for is impossible?"
"It's only impossible when you stop hoping!" Sirius said sharply. "You give up on Dumbledore's plan and you give up on Celeste at the same time! You let Fudge win before he's barely begun! Dumbledore and Celeste are a greater wizard and witch than Fudge could ever aspire to be. You need to have faith in them. They have great faith in you."
"They do?" said Harry.
Sirius threw up his hands. "Where were you when Dumbledore first let you in on the plans to resist Voldemort, or when Ardoc and Celeste told you who exactly they were? You are practically living in Dumbledore's house! You are being trained to fight! Harry, don't you realize that you're being treated like an adult?"
"Yes," said Harry, "but I guess I thought that it was just because it was necessary."
Sirius chuckled. "You're so modest. You may look like James, but in some ways, you're very different. I can't help but wonder what you'd be like if he had lived to raise you."
"What, was he a show-off or something?"
"No, I wouldn't say that," said Sirius, "but he certainly was not modest." He gave Harry a half-smile. "Just stay positive, okay? We're not beaten yet."
"Okay," said Harry. "It's just that everything looks so bad."
"True," said Sirius, "but don't forget that we've got Dumbledore, the only wizard Voldemort ever feared. And if Voldemort is afraid of him, imagine how Fudge must feel."
Harry grinned. "Terrified, I hope."
"It's no more than he deserves," said Sirius. His face grew solemn again. "Poor Remus," he murmured. "He's head over heels for Celeste, you know."
"I kind of figured," said Harry.
"Well, she seems to like him quite a bit herself."
"Is that something else that will help her keep her sanity?" asked Harry.
"Love? It's hard to say, but I think it will help," said Sirius. "Some people would simply regret what they had lost, but the wise person will remember that love is not something that can be taken away. You always have it with you, whether or not the people you care for are near. And Remus would do well to remember that," he added darkly. "Usually it's Remus who is trying to talk some sense into me. Now that the shoe's on the other foot, I think I must be a real handful." He sighed heavily. "For his sake, I hope this has a happy ending."
**********
Harry tried to take Sirius' advice to heart, but it was hard to do so when there was nothing to do but sit around and brood. He and Bellaton did what they had done when Sirius and Lupin had had their fight, and retreated to the Combat room to practice dueling. Once Harry had worked himself into a good sweat, bathed, and packed up, evening had fallen. Harry skipped supper in favor of a walk around the grounds with Hedwig on his arm. There was something very soothing about stroking her soft, warm feathers. Hedwig sat very still and let herself be pampered, sensing her master's need for comfort.
"Harry!" called Sirius from back at the house.
"What?"
"Dumbledore is here!"
Dusk had fallen, so Harry let Hedwig soar off into the night in search of food. He hurried back inside and found everyone already seated and waiting for him.
"She is doing well, all things considered," Dumbledore was saying to Lupin. "She is quite subdued, but she is in full possession of her sanity."
Lupin's shoulders drooped. "Thank heaven," he murmured. "The way she looked after Malfoy took her voice… I was afraid she would give up." Harry blinked at hearing his exact thoughts being spoken aloud by someone else.
"It was a cruel blow, yes," said Dumbledore. "But she is made from sterner stuff than you perhaps realize. I gave her your message, and it seemed to cheer her a great deal."
Lupin smiled tentatively.
"Here," said the headmaster, holding out a large package. "These are for you."
Lupin frowned and pulled back a layer of brown paper. He pulled out a blue dress, neatly folded, and a smaller box. He dipped his fingers into the box and pulled out a necklace with one blue stone dangling from the end.
"Her wand is under lockdown, but I did not feel they had a right to keep these," said Dumbledore.
Lupin looked up. There was a look of determination on his face now. "Thank you," he said.
"So what now?" said Sirius.
"I work on the Wizengamot," said Dumbledore. "I warn you, the going may be slow. The Minister will be throwing up roadblocks right and left, but be patient and let me work. Now, about Ronald."
"Is he okay?" said Harry.
"Physically, he is much better," said Dumbledore. "Healer Bigelow has been at the Burrow since last night. According to him Ronald's body could attend classes with no problem, but he needs more time to recover mentally."
"So you've told him," said Bellaton.
"The rest of us had the benefit of separation between two shocks," said Dumbledore. "Ronald got all the news in one punch, but he is exceeding everyone's expectations. He is young and resilient."
"Does he want to learn?" asked Bellaton.
"It is too soon for that," said Dumbledore. "Give him time. He must come to realize – by himself – that this is something he cannot change. When he accepts that he will live with it for the rest of his life, then he will be ready to learn."
"So who exactly knows that Ron is a Singer?" asked Sirius.
"All the Weasleys save Percy," said Dumbledore, "and they will not be telling him anytime soon."
"Everyone knows already?" said Bellaton. "It's a bit sooner than I would have expected."
"Molly and Arthur left the decision up to Ronald," said Dumbledore. "The Weasleys are a closely-knit clan, Ardoc. Personally, I believe that he made the right choice. But this business with Percy..."
"What's wrong with that boy?" said Sirius. "He's turning his back on his family to gain favor with a man like Fudge?"
"None of us can know what is going on in Percy's mind," said Dumbledore. "Until we can walk a mile in his shoes, we cannot judge him. Still... he will have to make his choice someday: his family or Fudge, and I believe that he could go either way."
At that moment, Professor McGonagall and Hermione materialized in the middle of the room. "Time to go, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, her voice all business.
Everyone rose from their chairs. Dumbledore pulled his pocketwatch from his robes and glanced at the face. "Indeed you are correct, Professor," he said. "Ardoc and I should be going as well."
Harry collected his belongings and pulled on his cloak. He shook hands with Lupin, and Sirius gave him a quick hug. "Remember what I told you," his godfather said, giving him a very serious look. "It's not over."
"Right," said Harry as Professor McGonagall shepherded him toward the fireplace. Harry and Hermione each took a handful of Floo Powder from the bag she proffered.
"Go to your common room," said Professor McGonagall. "The other students should be at dinner by now. I expect you won't want to face them tonight, so I'll have something sent up for you."
Harry and Hermione murmured their thanks. Hermione threw her powder into the fireplace, stepped in, and said "Gryffindor Tower!" in a clear voice. As soon as she had gone, Harry stepped forward.
"Harry," said Sirius from behind. Harry turned around. "Watch your back," said his godfather. There was a pleading look in his eyes.
Harry gave him what he hoped was a confident smile. "Of course." He threw his powder into the fireplace, and a minute later he was stepping out into the Gryffindor common room. He and Hermione each deposited their belongings in their rooms and returned to a long sofa in front of the roaring fire. Before long a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice appeared in front of them, but neither felt like eating or talking. For a long time they simply sat in silence until Harry remembered that he had something to do. "Bellaton figured out why Ron was attacked," he said abruptly.
Startled, Hermione turned to look at him. "Why?" she breathed.
"He's a Singer," he said, and Hermione gasped. Harry told her everything that he had been told that day, and Hermione absorbed it all with wide eyes.
"What happens now?" she said when he finished.
Harry shrugged. "Ron gets better, comes back to school, and decides whether or not he wants to learn."
Hermione shook her head. "I never saw this coming."
"Why would you?" said Harry.
"I don't know, I... I guess I thought I should have dreamed about it."
Harry smiled sadly. "I'm kind of glad you didn't. I get more sleep that way," he joked, but Hermione didn't smile back. "Look, you probably wouldn't have known what it meant anyway."
"I haven't had any more dreams since the last one," she said. "I don't have anything to tell Miss Flavisham. Not that I enjoyed the dreams, but I can't learn anything if I don't have any at all."
"You'll have more," he replied darkly. "I wouldn't wish for it them I were you. Just enjoy regular sleep while you can get it."
"If I learn how to interpret my dreams, then maybe I can prevent these kinds of things from happening in the future," she said firmly. "I have this terrible feeling that things will only get worse before they get better, and I don't want to go through anything like that again."
"Hermione, you could be the world's greatest Dreamer and things like that would still happen."
"Poor Professor Thornby," she said. "It must be awful in Azkaban."
"It is," said Harry, staring into the fire.
Hermione gave him a funny look.
"Sirius told me."
"Oh."
Neither of them said much after that. They parted ways and headed to their own rooms as the dinner hour drew to a close, not wanting to feel the curious stares of their classmates. When his own roommates returned, they remained silent on the subject of the Gala save to ask how Ron was doing, and Harry was grateful for their discretion. He had enough on his mind without having to dodge unwanted questions. He tried to lose himself in A History of Magical Conflict, but it reminded him of his guardian and he wound up staring at the pages without really seeing them. And though it seemed a trivial matter after all that had happened, he spent the rest of the night wondering who was going to take over in History of Magic.