Chapter thirty two. I've been thinking about writing an alternate ending to
this... what do you guys think? Let me know. And once again, sorry about
the late updates, apparently Psychology has more work in it than I
anticipated... I think I'll drop it. The teacher's a pervert anyway.... on
with the chappie.
PG!!!!
Chappie 32. They still Hate Me...
"You'll pay! All of you!!" the woman, whose hair was now turning black,
A green stream shot from her wand, missing Harry and the others by inches. Lupin grabbed Tonks (!) bodily as another spell came towards them, throwing them both out of the way. Ron and Hermione had taken cover behind a statue and Harry was behind one of the great marble pillars that held up the domed ceiling, cursing fame, fortune and Voldemort. It seemed his malice and hatred lived on his followers. He vowed silently that he wouldn't stop until all of the loyal followers were dead, and fingered his wand, and then jumped around the pillar and aimed;
"EXPELIARMUS!!" he yelled, putting as much energy as he could into it. That was a lot, he had not been allowed to do spells in classes and his magic had built up.
"NO!" yelled Dumbledore and Lupin together; their horrified voices mingling with the shouts already echoing around the room. The Death Eaters wand flew from her hand and landed with a clatter near Tonks, whom Lupin was still holding out of the way.
Harry stared at his two elder friends, nonplussed, "What's wrong?"
"Harry, can you levitate that wand to me please?" asked Dumbledore wearily.
Harry frowned, but extended his wand and did as bid. Well, he tried anyway.
"wingardiaum leviosa!"
The wand didn't even twitch. He tried again, a feeling of dread beginning to creep up his spine. The wand didn't move. He turned to Dumbledore, his face a painting of puzzlement.
"What...?"
"Magical burnout Harry."
Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth and Harry frowned. Ron looked between all his friends and wondered what the hell was going on.
Lupin helped Tonks to her feet, made sure she was stable (she was gripping her head somewhat painfully; Harry supposed she must have got hit by a spell, though certainly not Avada). He noticed that Lupin kept and arm around her waist even when she was on her feet, and his hart warmed at the thought of a couple in their midst.
"We didn't tell you that you had drawn on dangerously low reserves when you woke in hospital, but we should have. You've used up all your magic Harry." Said Lupin, his voice almost cracking.
The heat that had just warmed plummeted. The world began to spin. He was no longer a wizard. He could no longer do magic. He wouldn't become an auror. He wouldn't fulfill his vow. He blinked, once, twice, three times. What could he say? What could he do?
Then, through his despair, he felt a twinge of irony. So Lord Voldemort had defeated Harry Potter after all.
*** Three months later (AN; I was going to end it there but I thought that people might get a bit upset with me, especially after the wait!)
***
"Harry Potter!"
Harry woke, stared at the ceiling, praying his uncle wouldn't call again. He didn't want to make their breakfast.
"POTTER!!" the voice shook the house, and Harry sighed and rolled out of bed.
His room held no semblance of what his life had been three months ago, nothing at all, not even a poster of the Cannons. His trunk, wand and robes were packed away downstairs under the stairs. He hadn't found the courage to get rid of it yet.
What he hadn't known three months ago, was that a wizard (or witch) had a limited amount of power, and when that wizard was subject to years, sometimes months of stress and forced to use powerful magic often (as Harry had) they would reach a burnout stage, where the renewable supply would give out, and the wizard (or witch) would become a squib. It was the body's way of protecting itself from death by exhaustion. Looking back, Harry had not felt exhausted, just weary, he had no symptoms of this disease, nothing, but it had happened all the same.
He dressed and went downstairs. In the two months since his return to Privet Drive, he had spent less time in the house than out of it. He would walk, sometimes for hours, sometimes just minutes, thinking, wondering. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Lupin, Neville, even Fred and George wrote to him often (Fred and George sometimes sending jokes to play on Dudley) and he answered, never telling them how much he missed them and wished to be with them, but always cheerfully and calmly. Ron had wanted him to come and stay, and Harry had, and had managed to stick it out for a month before seeing magic everywhere around him had made him almost sick, and he had returned to Privet Drive, he would have really preferred to stay at Grimauld Place, but it was still being used as Head Quarters for the Order and that would make him feel worse, seeing so much trouble and not being able to help.
So he returned to the Dursleys. Not happily, but where else could he go? He worked, he ate, and he slept. He had been on automatic like this for the last two months, and it had frightened his relatives at first, but he no longer cared what they thought. He simply slept and ate under their roof. He even earned his own money these days, mowing lawns for the people up and down the street. Mrs. Figg always had a kind word for him and a cup of tea when his relatives got too much to handle (or Dudley took up too much room, having put on more weight.) Harry knew that she reported regularly to Dumbledore, but he didn't care. What would she say? He's a little paler? He's lost weight? He's not sleeping? All these things Dumbledore would have known would happen anyway.
He made the Dursley's breakfast, ate and walked down the road a block or so to where his job of the day was waiting, a new resident wanted his lawn mowed. H mowed for about half an hour, and then stopped to have a rest, as the sun was beginning to heat up something awful.
He sat on the fence, brooding. E wished for about the millionth time that his friends had told him that he was close to a burnout. Then he would be training to be an Auror now, instead of mowing somebody's bloody lawn. He drank the water he had bought with him in one gulp. He drunk nothing but water these days, and for a moment his mind went back to a feast where pumpkin juice had been served in gold goblets... he shook his head to clear it. That was over now, that part of his life was over, and though he acknowledged its existence what was the point of dredging it up again?
A movement down the street caught his eye. A man walking across the road, shopping and a paper under one arm. Harry watched him go, wishing to be normal. The man disappeared and Harry's mind went backwards again (didn't it always?) to something... he had seen that walk before...where? he watched the corner where the man had disappeared for a minute, it had been a dark night... a while ago... he blinked. Where was it? When was it? Did he trust the man? No. did he follow the man? Yes.
Harry blended in these days. His hair covered his scar, and his clothes fitted properly, the perfect muggle. The man didn't notice him as he strode quickly through the streets, intent on what he was doing, where he was going. Harry racked his brains, ignoring the sense of excitement bubbling inside of him, though he did stop a few times, doubting himself 'am I just so lonely im making this up?'
Then it clicked, a man creeping away from a bridge, stealthily. The one responsible for the Hogwarts Express being attacked.
"So it was you. You'll pay then." Harry muttered, rage building inside him.
The man turned another corner and Harry did too, to meet a fist full I in the face.
"Teach you to follow me you little punk!" snarled the man, his fist clenched. Harry, on the ground blinked and stared. So he had been seen. How embarrassing. He stood, and his fringe moved.
The dark eyes saw the scar, looked fully into thee face and sneered. It was a good thing no one was around or they would wonder what was going on.
"Nothing you can do to me Potter!"
Harry sighed, "I know that, Dickhead."
The man blinked. Harry jerked in surprise.
"I'll teach you some respect squib!"
Harry's face went dark. He reached behind him, and withdrew his wand from the back of his shirt where it had just landed.
"Paramount error." He snarled, aiming, but instead of saying a spell he smacked the man in the face with a closed fist. The man staggered backwards, tripped, dropped his paper.
"Impedi-" Harry began the spell, knowing it was useless.
CRACK!!!
He was gone, leaving Harry standing alone with a scattered newspaper and shopping. He absentmindedly picked up the paper, wondering how his wand came, and knowing that Aunt Petunia would use the paper in her garden, when a flash of red caught his eye. The page he held in his hand was the personal adds. An add was marked with a small red skull, hand drawn, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Friends of the skull a place in history await you!" there was an address below it.
Harry stared at it for a minute. Perhaps his role in the wizarding world wasn't over after all...?
An; I have so many people to thank, so im gonna start now,
Thankyou very very much for putting me on your Fav list. When get around to it you'll all be on mine as well. Anyone who wants me to review their stories, just let me know either through review's or just email me. Id be happy to do it an have been already, when I can (sigh)
Gandalf Lyonn . angelofdragons . Dumbeldave . amberssweetheart2789 . hot-chik . HarryGryffinGirl . Keyblademaster44 . Fantasy101 . PaigeGirl-nee . Dreamforever . Emma Ackroyd . Sam-Riddle . dada-wild . X-MenFanRogue13 . ears91 . Airborne-FireBird . Lilbabygirlie23 . Silvercrystal77 . Sharpuu . padfootjr23 . Songstress131 . Kali Perne . starwander . Arye . Lightmare852 . shorty-girly . JeanieBeanie33 . K-iska-Muggle-Girl-0731 . Linnafan . hgshipper07 . Phoenix'z . ossis
See you in the next chapter of Harry! I know there were some mistakes in this chapter, but I forgot what they were when I fell asleep so I haven't corrected them, tell me and ill do it. Thanks for reading.
PG!!!!
Chappie 32. They still Hate Me...
"You'll pay! All of you!!" the woman, whose hair was now turning black,
A green stream shot from her wand, missing Harry and the others by inches. Lupin grabbed Tonks (!) bodily as another spell came towards them, throwing them both out of the way. Ron and Hermione had taken cover behind a statue and Harry was behind one of the great marble pillars that held up the domed ceiling, cursing fame, fortune and Voldemort. It seemed his malice and hatred lived on his followers. He vowed silently that he wouldn't stop until all of the loyal followers were dead, and fingered his wand, and then jumped around the pillar and aimed;
"EXPELIARMUS!!" he yelled, putting as much energy as he could into it. That was a lot, he had not been allowed to do spells in classes and his magic had built up.
"NO!" yelled Dumbledore and Lupin together; their horrified voices mingling with the shouts already echoing around the room. The Death Eaters wand flew from her hand and landed with a clatter near Tonks, whom Lupin was still holding out of the way.
Harry stared at his two elder friends, nonplussed, "What's wrong?"
"Harry, can you levitate that wand to me please?" asked Dumbledore wearily.
Harry frowned, but extended his wand and did as bid. Well, he tried anyway.
"wingardiaum leviosa!"
The wand didn't even twitch. He tried again, a feeling of dread beginning to creep up his spine. The wand didn't move. He turned to Dumbledore, his face a painting of puzzlement.
"What...?"
"Magical burnout Harry."
Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth and Harry frowned. Ron looked between all his friends and wondered what the hell was going on.
Lupin helped Tonks to her feet, made sure she was stable (she was gripping her head somewhat painfully; Harry supposed she must have got hit by a spell, though certainly not Avada). He noticed that Lupin kept and arm around her waist even when she was on her feet, and his hart warmed at the thought of a couple in their midst.
"We didn't tell you that you had drawn on dangerously low reserves when you woke in hospital, but we should have. You've used up all your magic Harry." Said Lupin, his voice almost cracking.
The heat that had just warmed plummeted. The world began to spin. He was no longer a wizard. He could no longer do magic. He wouldn't become an auror. He wouldn't fulfill his vow. He blinked, once, twice, three times. What could he say? What could he do?
Then, through his despair, he felt a twinge of irony. So Lord Voldemort had defeated Harry Potter after all.
*** Three months later (AN; I was going to end it there but I thought that people might get a bit upset with me, especially after the wait!)
***
"Harry Potter!"
Harry woke, stared at the ceiling, praying his uncle wouldn't call again. He didn't want to make their breakfast.
"POTTER!!" the voice shook the house, and Harry sighed and rolled out of bed.
His room held no semblance of what his life had been three months ago, nothing at all, not even a poster of the Cannons. His trunk, wand and robes were packed away downstairs under the stairs. He hadn't found the courage to get rid of it yet.
What he hadn't known three months ago, was that a wizard (or witch) had a limited amount of power, and when that wizard was subject to years, sometimes months of stress and forced to use powerful magic often (as Harry had) they would reach a burnout stage, where the renewable supply would give out, and the wizard (or witch) would become a squib. It was the body's way of protecting itself from death by exhaustion. Looking back, Harry had not felt exhausted, just weary, he had no symptoms of this disease, nothing, but it had happened all the same.
He dressed and went downstairs. In the two months since his return to Privet Drive, he had spent less time in the house than out of it. He would walk, sometimes for hours, sometimes just minutes, thinking, wondering. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Lupin, Neville, even Fred and George wrote to him often (Fred and George sometimes sending jokes to play on Dudley) and he answered, never telling them how much he missed them and wished to be with them, but always cheerfully and calmly. Ron had wanted him to come and stay, and Harry had, and had managed to stick it out for a month before seeing magic everywhere around him had made him almost sick, and he had returned to Privet Drive, he would have really preferred to stay at Grimauld Place, but it was still being used as Head Quarters for the Order and that would make him feel worse, seeing so much trouble and not being able to help.
So he returned to the Dursleys. Not happily, but where else could he go? He worked, he ate, and he slept. He had been on automatic like this for the last two months, and it had frightened his relatives at first, but he no longer cared what they thought. He simply slept and ate under their roof. He even earned his own money these days, mowing lawns for the people up and down the street. Mrs. Figg always had a kind word for him and a cup of tea when his relatives got too much to handle (or Dudley took up too much room, having put on more weight.) Harry knew that she reported regularly to Dumbledore, but he didn't care. What would she say? He's a little paler? He's lost weight? He's not sleeping? All these things Dumbledore would have known would happen anyway.
He made the Dursley's breakfast, ate and walked down the road a block or so to where his job of the day was waiting, a new resident wanted his lawn mowed. H mowed for about half an hour, and then stopped to have a rest, as the sun was beginning to heat up something awful.
He sat on the fence, brooding. E wished for about the millionth time that his friends had told him that he was close to a burnout. Then he would be training to be an Auror now, instead of mowing somebody's bloody lawn. He drank the water he had bought with him in one gulp. He drunk nothing but water these days, and for a moment his mind went back to a feast where pumpkin juice had been served in gold goblets... he shook his head to clear it. That was over now, that part of his life was over, and though he acknowledged its existence what was the point of dredging it up again?
A movement down the street caught his eye. A man walking across the road, shopping and a paper under one arm. Harry watched him go, wishing to be normal. The man disappeared and Harry's mind went backwards again (didn't it always?) to something... he had seen that walk before...where? he watched the corner where the man had disappeared for a minute, it had been a dark night... a while ago... he blinked. Where was it? When was it? Did he trust the man? No. did he follow the man? Yes.
Harry blended in these days. His hair covered his scar, and his clothes fitted properly, the perfect muggle. The man didn't notice him as he strode quickly through the streets, intent on what he was doing, where he was going. Harry racked his brains, ignoring the sense of excitement bubbling inside of him, though he did stop a few times, doubting himself 'am I just so lonely im making this up?'
Then it clicked, a man creeping away from a bridge, stealthily. The one responsible for the Hogwarts Express being attacked.
"So it was you. You'll pay then." Harry muttered, rage building inside him.
The man turned another corner and Harry did too, to meet a fist full I in the face.
"Teach you to follow me you little punk!" snarled the man, his fist clenched. Harry, on the ground blinked and stared. So he had been seen. How embarrassing. He stood, and his fringe moved.
The dark eyes saw the scar, looked fully into thee face and sneered. It was a good thing no one was around or they would wonder what was going on.
"Nothing you can do to me Potter!"
Harry sighed, "I know that, Dickhead."
The man blinked. Harry jerked in surprise.
"I'll teach you some respect squib!"
Harry's face went dark. He reached behind him, and withdrew his wand from the back of his shirt where it had just landed.
"Paramount error." He snarled, aiming, but instead of saying a spell he smacked the man in the face with a closed fist. The man staggered backwards, tripped, dropped his paper.
"Impedi-" Harry began the spell, knowing it was useless.
CRACK!!!
He was gone, leaving Harry standing alone with a scattered newspaper and shopping. He absentmindedly picked up the paper, wondering how his wand came, and knowing that Aunt Petunia would use the paper in her garden, when a flash of red caught his eye. The page he held in his hand was the personal adds. An add was marked with a small red skull, hand drawn, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Friends of the skull a place in history await you!" there was an address below it.
Harry stared at it for a minute. Perhaps his role in the wizarding world wasn't over after all...?
An; I have so many people to thank, so im gonna start now,
Thankyou very very much for putting me on your Fav list. When get around to it you'll all be on mine as well. Anyone who wants me to review their stories, just let me know either through review's or just email me. Id be happy to do it an have been already, when I can (sigh)
Gandalf Lyonn . angelofdragons . Dumbeldave . amberssweetheart2789 . hot-chik . HarryGryffinGirl . Keyblademaster44 . Fantasy101 . PaigeGirl-nee . Dreamforever . Emma Ackroyd . Sam-Riddle . dada-wild . X-MenFanRogue13 . ears91 . Airborne-FireBird . Lilbabygirlie23 . Silvercrystal77 . Sharpuu . padfootjr23 . Songstress131 . Kali Perne . starwander . Arye . Lightmare852 . shorty-girly . JeanieBeanie33 . K-iska-Muggle-Girl-0731 . Linnafan . hgshipper07 . Phoenix'z . ossis
See you in the next chapter of Harry! I know there were some mistakes in this chapter, but I forgot what they were when I fell asleep so I haven't corrected them, tell me and ill do it. Thanks for reading.