12. Mother's Blood
The class sat in horror at the sight they had just witnessed. No one moved nor dared to take in a breath. Mouths gaped and eyes bulged. Was Snape dead? Another odor was added to the room due to Snape's ordeal. It was the stomach churning smell of a rotting citrus fruit decaying in the blistering sun. As the shock of the situation sunk in, the room started to become alive with students again. Malfoy, sitting in the front near Snape's desk, ran out of the room with his hand clamped over his mouth. A girl shrieked and broke down crying.
"That's two deaths this year," Harry heard someone whisper. "From now on I'm going to be home schooled." This comment, which had absolutely no reaction to what had just happened, upset Harry.
"Someone get Madam Pomfrey!" he yelled. Bodies slowly revolved in their chairs and forced their terrified faces to stare up at him. No one moved at his command. Hermione shivered, but did not move and Ron just gripped the bottom of his seat. "Fine," Harry growled, "I'll go." He ran out of the room to the now familiar path to the hospital wing.
He reached the hospital in a matter of seconds and barged in. His eyes grew terribly dry and his throat used that as a cue to form a gagging lump of phlegm right below his Adam's apple at the sight of the hospital wing. Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout were sprawled out in hospital beds. At their sides were silver and battered buckets filled almost to the brim with something that resembled molasses. The only three professors that were not present were Umbridge, Binns, and Trelawney. Harry spotted a frantic Pomfrey carrying a tray out of an undisclosed back room. She dropped the tray with a clatter at the sight of Harry.
"YOU!" she yelled in a shrill, high pitched tone. "LEAVE! NOW! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT THIS PLACE! I CAN'T DO IT ALL!"
"Madam Pom—"
"I can't do it all," she began to weep into her shaking hands. "Leave Potter! I guarantee that you are fine. LEAVE!" She picked up the tray and walked over to Professor McGonagall and began to dab her forehead with a cold wash cloth, wiping her own tears away with the back of her hand.
"Listen. I'm not here because of me. Snape became violently ill just now and passed out," Harry calmly said. "We're not sure if he's dead or not." He cautiously approached Madam Pomfrey, whose weeps had subsided into whimpers, and overlooked the condition of Professor McGonagall. As soon as he had reached her bedside, Madam Pomfrey's hand had frozen in mid air. Her jaw moved slightly up and down in an attempt to form words of disbelief and denial.
"Oh no. Tell me this is not happening," she managed to mumble in a barely audible voice.
"What's wrong with them?" Harry pointed to the ill professors.
"They've been poisoned. And they were poisoned by the most potent substance. Without a potions master. . . " she trailed off. "We have to save Snape first."
"What's this stuff in these pails here? Is this medication? Can't we use this?" Harry asked. Madam Pomfrey let out a nervous laugh.
"That's their stomach contents Potter. I like to call it a chuck bucket. Come on, we don't have much time." She walked hurriedly towards the hospital wing door. Harry took off after her. They made their way up the corridor (which seemed especially long because they were trying to get there in a hurry) and were just about to step into Snape's dungeon when the worst person possible to show up at a time like this, stepped in front of Harry and Madam Pomfrey.
"What's wrong Poppy?" The rage in Harry had created a beast that gave off the notion of a rabid dog in a cage. Umbridge had been poking the beast with a stick repeatedly and the dog ached to get out and demolish her. Now the cage door had been left ajar.... Don't do anything rash, his conscience told him, only it wasn't his voice. It was Sirius's. Who better to know about raging, captivated dogs than Sirius? But Sirius isn't here anymore, the other half of Harry's conscience taunted. Don't listen to him! He's dead!
"Severus and the other Professors have been poisoned," Madam Pomfrey said impatiently as she tried to push past her.
"Oh that's horrible!" Umbridge gasped, but for a split second, Harry could have sworn he saw her smile. "Children such as Potter shouldn't be witnessing this sort of thing! I'll escort him to my office."
"I've seen much worse. You know I've seen worse," Harry snarled through gritted teeth, shaking with fury. Before he could defend himself, Umbridge's stubby, fat fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist so tight that the "I will not tell lies" phrase embedded in his skin glowed. She gripped him so tightly that he could actually feel his own pulse thumping against her finger tips. The tighter her grip, the wider her malicious smile. Madam Pomfrey didn't take notice and instead pushed herself between the Umbridge barrier and into Snape's dungeon.
"Come Potter," Umbridge hissed. She yanked him down the hallway to the door he dreaded and with much protest, finally got him inside. "Sit," she commanded, smile gone.
"I prefer to stand thanks," he said coolly. She watched him like a vulture watching its prey take its final breath of life. He suddenly had no fear facing Umbridge. Despite the fact that she had caused him excruciating pain the day before, he was ready for her. Harry's fingertips grasped his wand lightly in his robe's pocket.
"I told you to sit."
"No!" Harry yelled and then the smile came back to Umbridge. So disgustingly sweet, it burned into your mind. To Harry, facial expressions had never been able to reveal so much about a person. But Umbridge's did. It gave the impression that she would cackle at a funeral as the relatives of the deceased placed a rose on the casket. Then Harry thought of his parents dying. If she had been there, she probably would have laughed, he though furiously. And this thought, brought on by his raging conscience, had forced that rabid dog out of its cage. He overturned a desk and sent miscellaneous items crashing to the floor. He then kicked over a chair and sent it flying across the room. She smiled as Dumbledore had when Harry destroyed his possessions at the end of last year.
"Poor boy. Snape being poisoned really upset you huh? You must really like the guy."
"I don't like Snape!" Harry huffed. "I never did and I never will!" He sent another chair careening across the room. Umbridge didn't flinch as it crashed into a wooden cabinet that wobbled back and forth due to the impact.
"If you'll stop wrecking my room for a second, I'd like to give you some tea to calm your nerves," she said in a voice that reminded Harry of Trelawney's. She slithered over to Harry, smiling, and placed a cup on a saucer on the desk he hadn't managed to destroy. "Bottoms up Potter!" He clutched his wand close to him as he peered over the edge of the cup. Inside looked like one of Trelawney's tea leaves had rotted and liquefied. The tea emitted a familiar smell; the smell of Snape's dungeon before he had vomited. Umbridge's eyes bulged as he picked up the cup. He brought it to his lips and froze. She was bearing her teeth in a grin that looked like a grimace. He then flung the cup down onto the floor and watched it shatter into oblivion. The liquid sizzled on the floor.
"Did you honestly think I would fall for your 'tea act' again? I don't have any information that you need. Why are you trying to use Veritaserum on me?" he spat. A single bead of sweat trickled down her cheek and dropped slowly from her chin as she stared at the broken ceramic cup and black goo, which was supposedly tea.
"IT WASN'T VERITASERUM!" she screamed in his face. Her eyes flashed red and green and Harry's scar felt like it was trying to be sawed in half. She closed her eyes and his scar stopped throbbing. He grabbed the table for support and tried to fight his rising gorge. As his eyes came into focus again, he stared down at the bubbling black liquid. It's their stomach contents Potter, Madam Pomfrey's nervous laugh rang in his mind and his stomach lurched as he realized what Umbridge had tried to serve him.
"You," he mumbled. "It was you. You despicable woman! You poisoned them! YOU POISONED THEM ALL!" Umbridge threw her head back and cackled. Her laugh sounded like thunder and lightening and all hated noise. Her devilish chuckle rose from the depths of hell and echoed off the walls. Harry made his hand into a fist. Umbridge brought her head forward and narrowed her eyes into snake like slits. She placed her hands on her hips and leaned in towards Harry.
"Where's your proof?" she snorted.
"Right there! How will you explain that?" he yelled, pointing to the broken cup and poisoned tea. Umbridge gently slapped her cheek in mock surprise.
"Right where Potter? I don't see anything." She drew her wand and gave it a tiny flick. The poison, cup, and saucer all vanished into a wisp of smoke. Her cackle began to rise. Harry snarled and took a step closer to her, raising his clenched fist.
"Now, now Potter. Don't do anything rash," she laughed even harder. His body became paralyzed from the neck down. His breath was caught in his throat and his face grew hot, terribly hot. She had mimicked Sirius. She smiled at Harry, smiled at Sirius's death.
"Don't you ever," Harry started to say, but couldn't force it out of him. His brain was too focused on hurting Umbridge than finishing sentences. He drew his wand and aimed it at her heart. Her smile died instantly.
"You wouldn't," she breathed.
"You killed them! Killed Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and," he stammered, "and—and my uncle! You deserve—"
"HARRY NO!" Dumbledore stepped into the doorway and pulled out his own wand. "Accio wand!" Harry's wand was torn from him and into Dumbledore's free hand. Fawkes then soared into the classroom and snatched Umbridge's wand from her trembling hand. He did not issue and explanation.
"Albus I demand my wand back! Potter threatened to kill—"
"You will address me as Professor Dumbledore. Understood?" he said in a booming, stern voice. "And I know what he tried to do Dolores."
"But Professor, she poisoned all of the other teachers except for Trelawney and Binns!"
"I know!" Dumbledore shouted. "I know what is going on! Do not mistake me for a fool who does not know about any of the mishaps that occur while he is gone," his usually soft blue eyes turned to that of cold, wet marble. He placed the confiscated wands into his robes and took a deep breath, "Professor Trelawney sent me Fawkes with a letter explaining what had happened. Where is Poppy?"
"In Snape's dungeon," Umbridge answered. "I didn't think that Potter needed to witness such a horrid event so I took him to my classroom."
"And the other students?"
"Well if Poppy Pomfrey was in the right state of mind she would have sent them out," Umbridge answered, slightly abashed. Harry saw her look at him from the corner of her eye. Her famous smile appeared as Dumbledore began to stroke his beard in thought. "Can I interest you in some tea Professor?"
"No. I'm fine thank you," he glared down at Harry as he said this. He then turned on his heel, cloak billowing at his ankles and retreated in the direction of Snape's dungeon. From down the hall he called, "Come you two." Harry dashed out of the room as soon as Dumbledore had hollered back. Umbridge puffed at his heels.
They followed Dumbledore down into Snape's dungeon. To Harry's surprise (and to Umbridge's satisfaction) the students had been removed from the classroom. Dumbledore made his way silently through the eaves- dropping crowd and closed the dungeon door. Harry spotted Ron and Hermione in a corner, whispering rapidly to each other. Both had expressions of a heart broken toddler witnessing his dead fish being flushed down the toilet. It pained Harry the slightest bit to see them traumatized. As he walked over to them, he saw Ron reach for Hermione's hand slowly, probably to comfort her. Burning with anxiousness to tell them that Umbridge poisoned them all, but not wanting to ruin the moment, he halted and searched for someone else to talk with. Seamus Finnigan came into view, whispering amongst a few other Gryffindors. Harry started to join Seamus's posse of listeners, but Hermione spotted him.
"Harry! Over here!" she called to him. He watched as Ron spun around, jerked his arm back, and redden. With a faint sense of guilt in the pit of his stomach, her hurried over towards them. "Snape's been poisoned!" Hermione half-whispered, half-shouted. "We heard Madam Pomfrey!"
"I know," Harry whispered as he lowered into a huddle with Ron and Hermione in an effort to blend out of the crowd. "And so have Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, McGonagall, and the rest except for Umbridge, Binns, and Trelawney."
"How do you know?" asked Ron as his eyes grew larger.
"Because I saw them in the hospital wing. All of them. They were all sweating and gaunt looking with what Madam Pomfrey likes to call a 'chuck bucket' filled to the brim with their vomit."
"That's disgusting!" Hermione cried and cupped her hands over her mouth.
"Well poison has gotta leave your system somehow Hermione," Ron explained. "It doesn't just disappear like. . .like magic."
"Yeah and I know who did it," Harry glanced over at Umbridge to whom Malfoy was talking—sucking up to. "It was Umbridge. I know because she tried to poison me when she dragged me down to her classroom."
"That's great!" Ron sprang up.
"What?" yelled Harry, offended. "Ron, she tried to poison me! Poison me! What could possibly be terrific about the fact that I could have been throwing up everything I've ever digested and half a lung?"
"And most likely could have died," Hermione added. Ron started shaking his and smiling at Harry and Hermione's defensive reactions.
"You know it's not that guys. You have to have a more in-depth grasp on the situation. Through suffering comes greatness," he stated in a matter of fact tone. Harry and Hermione blinked simultaneously. "I read it somewhere. Anyway, now Umbridge can be fired! That's more than a death threat! That's an attempted homicide! You suffered with her long enough to the point that she tried to kill you and now she can be fired and out of your life forever! Pain equals good!" Ron exclaimed. Harry sighed and straightened up out of their huddle.
"That's not going to happen. I have no proof. She destroyed it all. If only I would have—" He was cut off by the clatter of the dungeon door being slammed open and the appearance of Dumbledore carrying Snape in his arms. Snape's eyelids were half closed, showing the white part of his eyes. His jaw slacked to one side and the tip of his tongue peeped out of the corners of his chapped-lipped mouth. A blood diluted drool string trickled down the drying blood and regurgitation on his chin.
"Listen up all of you," Dumbledore commanded without the slightest hint of struggle in his voice. "Due to the poor health and lack of Professors, Hogwarts will have to be closed until further notice. Go to your dormitories and pack your things. I will meet you all in the Great Hall with further instructions. Go." The students, whose eyes had taken the shape of Luna's, looked at one another and sped off to their common rooms. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned to leave with the fleeting crowd, but Dumbledore called Harry back. "I need to speak with Harry alone," he told Ron and Hermione. Once again leaving Harry, they smiled reassuringly and walked off. Harry saw Ron reach for Hermione's hand again, but a frightened Slytherin had run between them.
Dumbledore stood straight up unblinkingly outside Snape's dungeon. Harry sensed a vibe that Dumbledore did not want to be questioned about holding him back and so silently stood at his side. The door opened and Madam Pomfrey slid out with a hand full of herbs and spices, bottles filled with multi colored substances, and a rather large book in her mouth.
"Do you have everything needed Poppy?" a now soft-spoken Dumbledore asked. Madam Pomfrey, unable to talk due to the book, nodded vigorously and caught a slipping bottle with her arm pit. "Okay, let's drop Severus off then." He strode down towards the hospital wing being careful not to accidentally whack Snape's head on a statue and opened the door for Madam Pomfrey. She shuffled in, placed her items down on an already cluttered desk, and started to set up a bed.
"Okay," she panted, "here's a bed for him Professor. I'll try and make that antidote to the best of my ability, but I didn't do so well in potions when I took my O.W.Ls."
"That's fine Poppy. Whatever will keep them breathing. I'll be back to check on the status of all the professors in about half an hour." The hospital bed creaked as he cautiously lowered Snape's limp body onto it. Dumbledore straightened up and stared down upon Harry. He did not smile and his eyes did not indicate warmth. "You'll be coming with me to my office. Good luck Poppy," he said. Harry and Dumbledore walked briskly out of the room and to the stone statue that disguised Dumbledore's stone staircase. He gave the password and without waiting for Harry, immediately began to ascend up the spiraling stairs.
They entered his room. All the things Harry had smashed and destroyed were replaced, unscathed on top of Dumbledore's shelves. The portraits wore grim expressions and did not smile nor talk amongst themselves when Harry entered. He waited until Dumbledore had sat down in his high-backed arm chair to sit down in a wooden chair opposite. Dumbledore placed his fingertips together and rocked his connected hands back and forth. Harry felt uncomfortable in the seat he sat in. Memories of last year came flooding back to him.
"I'm sorry I have been so cross with you," Dumbledore sighed, interrupting his flowing memories. "You'd feel the same way if you could understand where I'm coming from."
"I accept your apology," Harry croaked. "But why am I here?"
"You will be going back to the Dursleys."
"What?" Harry exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.
"Go ahead and smash my things. As you can see, they are replaceable," Dumbledore told him hurtfully. Harry lost the urge to destroy Dumbledore's possessions. What good did it do him to break everything in his sight?
"I won't go!" he yelled instead of throwing something at the wall. "I hate it there! Why can't I go with Ron or at least back to Grimmauld Place?"
"You would be putting the Order of the Phoenix and the Weasleys in danger while residing with them in our wizarding world. Voldemort is now able to fight old men like me without much help. You saw that in the ministry last year. He's stronger Harry. His Death Eaters have gotten stronger and the fear of him has gotten to the point where Cornelius Fudge is starting to break down. You simply must go back to the Dursleys."
"The Order can fight off Voldemort!"
"But what if someone else you hold most dear to your heart dies? Then what Harry? Then what? Then you won't have the will, or motivation to fulfill the Prophecy," Dumbledore fired back, starting to rise from his chair also.
"The Prophecy," Harry muttered. "That damned Prophecy! It's only a prediction! If you were the only one Voldemort ever feared, why couldn't you just—"
"Let's not get into that right now Harry. You are going to the Dursleys and that is an order. I'm not doing it to punish you. I am doing it to protect you."
"You're doing it to protect the stupid Prophecy!"
"I'm doing it because I love you!" Dumbledore roared. "I knew how you feel because I was an orphan too. My parents died when I was only a few months old. I don't know how, but they did. That's why family is so important Harry. Family and your mother's blood will keep you safe. I had to live with my mother's brother. Her blood coursed through him and I felt more than protection. I felt loved."
"You obviously didn't have an aunt and uncle like mine. Mine are forced to keep me. You are forcing them to love me," Harry spat. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the door.
"I love you like a grandson Harry. I'd do anything to keep you alive. But I can't force anyone to do anything. Wizard or not," Dumbledore stopped him. "I can only influence them to do it on their own free will." Harry looked down at the doorknob that glistened in his hand. Dumbledore's words had branded themselves into Harry's mind. He was drowning in a sea of mixed emotions. Frozen by the door in Dumbledore's office, unsure of how he felt at the moment, Harry realized why Cho had broken down so much. As simple minded and roseate as she seemed to Harry, she was confused and needed a shoulder to cry on. She didn't cry because she thought he was a bad kisser, and she didn't cry for attention. She cried because she needed someone that could understand what she was feeling.
Now he needed someone that could understand. The only person that really did was gone, and Cho, who did feel mixed emotions, did not feel the same emotions Harry felt. She didn't lose a family member; she lost a trophy to show off to her friends. As much platonic love Harry had for Ron and Hermione, they would only pretend to comprehend and say everything was okay. It wasn't okay. Harry's heart leaped into his throat and the twisted, forlorn image of no one being there for him burned his eyes.
"Whatever," he muttered and quickly led himself out of the room. Coming down the staircase, he wiped away what little tears had started to form and slouched into the Great Hall. The atmosphere was decorated in tension. He went to find a place at the Gryffindor table. As usual, he found Ron and Hermione and squeezed in between them. The other houses, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, had joined the Great Hall in a matter of minutes with suitcases and packages that they had obviously packed to take home with them. All those who had entered wore frightened, splenetic faces as they took their seats. Because of the mood the Gryffindors and Slytherins had set, no one spoke. And no one moved until Dumbledore joined the fearful crowd, his presence installing hope in some. He faced the students and began to speak with a saturnine tint in his voice.
"My fellow Hogwarts students, unbeknownst to some of you, tragedy has stricken the school. All but three professors have been poisoned. Madam Pomfrey is using her best efforts to create a most difficult antidote. Until we either employ enough back up professors, or until our regular ones are in perfect health, the school must be closed," someone let out a small whoop. Dumbledore immediately spotted the culprit and stared an unmerciful stare at the student. "This is not something to celebrate," he spat dourly. "These professors are in such horrible condition that I'm afraid that there is a chance they may die." Harry saw someone shrink into their chair and blush a bright red. Tell them it was Umbridge, he thought desperately. Tell the whole school it was that poor excuse for a human being! "You all must proceed to Hogsmeade in order to catch the train home. Your parents have been notified." Dumbledore opened the Great Hall doors and ushered them out. He grasped Harry's arm.
"What?" Harry demanded, trying to pull free.
"You will go to the Dursleys Harry. That is an order," and with that said, Dumbledore let go and hurried two first years along the current of frantic students. Harry sighed deeply and then tugged his trunk along Ron and Hermione. The three of them were silent as they made their way to the train station. Both Hermione and Ron had overheard what Dumbledore had told Harry at the Great Hall doors, but kept their mouths shut. Harry focused his eyes on his feet, too angry to look at anything else. They heard someone retch as they passed the hospital wing.
Finally the train station came into view. The ruby Hogwarts Express awaited their arrival with its humming engine echoing off the walls. The conductor, or so Harry assumed, was directing and helping people board the freight.
"C'mon, come on," he snarled. "Don't got all day 'ere! 'Urry up and seat yo'selves!" The trio pushed themselves past a crowd of arguing students, fighting over who sat next to who and finally made it on to the train. There was a major noise difference than inside the castle. Here, people were gossiping and ranting loudly at what had happened. Disgusted at their concern for none of the professors' conditions, Harry found an unoccupied compartment and settled in.
"This is a nightmare," he breathed as he flumped down on a seat. "Torture, plain torture."
"Well," Hermione said as she sat down next to him, "who would you rather be with? Umbridge or the Dursleys?"
"Neither."
"I hear ya," Ron contributed ruefully. "I don't see why you can't just stay with us Harry."
"I know why and I guess it's a good reason to be with the Dursleys now that I truly think of it," he started rubbing his neck unconsciously as he spoke. Apologetically he said, "It's so I don't put you two and the rest of the Order in danger." Ron snorted.
"What a load of," he paused at the warning look on Hermione's face, "they don't think we can handle it? We could fight off whoever would be trying to get you."
"Voldemort you mean?" Harry asked grumpily. "He's gotten a lot stronger since our second year Ron. He's not just a memory anymore. You didn't see him in our fourth or last year. He's a lot more powerful than I would have hoped for." No one had a response to this comment and instead looked down at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact with Harry. The train jerked slightly forward and began its journey back to King's Cross. Harry could picture it in his mind: He'd say a sorrow filled goodbye to Hermione and Ron. Then after Uncle Vernon would have hollered at him for taking to long, he would shuffle away from the last bit of happiness he would have for a while. The car ride would be silent, except for the guttural snarls being produced from an upset Uncle Vernon. He would get home and be sent to his room, only to leave for food and water. Most students appreciated an unexpected vacation. Harry hated any type of vacation at all. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Hermione said cheerfully. Her cheerfulness flickered out when Luna popped her head into the compartment. "Oh," she huffed. "Can we help you Luna?" Luna smiled quickly and then stared at Ron with her enormous eyes.
"Er—what?" he asked testily as he somewhat cowered away from her.
"I wish to speak to Harry," she answered in her usual dreamy, optimistic voice. "But it's private. Could you two leave for a moment?"
"Why?" Hermione jumped up, obviously offended. "Why do you want us to leave? What can't we hear that he can?"
"I'm not going to murder him or anything. No need to get your knickers in a bunch," she fired back. Hermione sat down, her upper lip suspended in a disgusted manner.
"Why can't we hear it then?" she interrogated stiffly, crossing her arms.
"Why don't I just step outside instead?" Harry suggested, getting up quickly and walking to the door. "Be back in a moment." He shut the door behind him and rolled his eyes. Luna looked up at him and smiled. He looked away from her. After what he had gone through with Umbridge, he didn't want to see anyone smile for that day.
"Want to visit me sometime over this lovely vacation we've been granted?" she asked insouciantly.
"What? Lovely vaca—it's not lovely! Practically all the professors are an inch from death!"
"Okay," she replied. Harry gaped in disbelief. How could someone be so nonchalant? He began to shake his head. "As I was saying, well rather asking, want to visit me?"
"I can't," he replied rapidly. "Dumbledore forbade me to go anywhere. I have to stay at—"
"Home?"
"If you can call it that." There was a pause in the conversation as Luna frowned and grabbed her chin pensively.
"So you can't leave at all?" Harry nodded his head yes. "Well that put a stopper on my plans. I was wondering if you would like to visit so we could plan our visit to the Ministry of Magic. You know, to go to the veil and talk to Sirius." Harry suddenly forgave her for her disinterest in the professors.
"Thanks a bunch Dumbledore," he mumbled under his breath. "This would have been the perfect time to go and do that! Perhaps I could sneak out."
"No I wouldn't want you to do that," she told him in a matter-of- factly tone. "If you were caught then we definitely wouldn't be able to go at all. Best to play it safe. We'll do it when we go back."
"During school? When would we have the time?"
"During our Christmas break silly," she laughed. He himself grinned as Luna started to crack up at her non-hilarious comment. The thought of the opportunity to be able to talk to Sirius again made him feel delighted. Then something strange happened to him. Time seemed to be going in slow motion as he watched Luna laugh. He began to think about all the times they had talked. Every conversation he had with her had always left him with a warm feeling. A feeling that when times grew cold and dark, always raining, that there was light; an opening in the barricade. His stomach fluttered and he fell out of his sudden trance. Harry's grin turned into a smile. He cast a glance into his compartment and felt a wee bit guilty for deserting Ron and Hermione (although he was certain that Ron wasn't too bothered by the fact that he had Hermione to himself). Luna's rapturous chuckles had simmered down to the point where she was able to breathe again and she wiped the tears out of her orb like eyes.
"Whoo," she hooted, "that was a good one Harry."
"Um—thanks?"
"We'll have to keep in touch during this break. Maybe we could discuss our plans through owl mail," she suggested, her eyes twinkling. Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets to try and keep himself from blushing the slightest bit. Why am I blushing? he asked himself.
"Yeah okay, if my uncle will let me that is." They stood facing each other in an awkward silence. Luna just smiled and stared at him. Doesn't she ever blink? Harry thought nervously. "Well I better be getting back now. Don't want them to get suspicious," he said finally. Harry slipped his hand behind his back and slowly started to open the door. He waved goodbye to Luna who waved vigorously and then slipped back inside the compartment.
"Done snogging already?" Ron teased as he looked down at his nonexistent watch.
"No," Harry answered, a menacing smile creeping across his face. "I was waiting for you two to finish." Ron's face turned the color of his hair as Hermione began to laugh. "How rude," Harry joined in on the laughter, "laughing at Ron like that." Due to his conversation with Luna, Harry was in a good mood even Malfoy couldn't discourage. Hermione wasn't called in for Head Girl duty and neither Ron for prefect. The trio had a joyous ride home.
"WHEN I SAY TO LEAVE NOW I MEAN IT POTTER!" Uncle Vernon hollered impatiently over to Harry. Uncle Vernon's face was so purple with rage even his mustache looked red.
"Just a minute! I have to say goodbye!" Harry yelled back. "Have a nice holiday Ron," he said, shaking Ron's hand. "I expect numerous amounts of letters telling me all that's going on."
"Don't worry Harry. I'll send you a letter a day for as long as this holiday is," Ron smiled back, then lowering his voice so that only Harry could hear he said, "If they give you trouble lemme know. I'll get Fred and George to put them back in line."
"You can count on it," he chuckled patting Ron on the back.
"Oh there's my mum! I'll be right back guys just let me put my trunk away," Ron said as he dashed away as best as he could with a heavy trunk. Harry and Hermione watched him go before turning towards each other.
"'Bye Hermione," Harry started to say to the floor rather than her face. There was silence. Harry could hear Ron greeting his mum and shoving his trunk into the car. He finally lifted his head to meet her eyes. "I'll miss—"
"NOW BOY! YOU BETTER COME NOW!" Uncle Vernon roared. "I'M GOING TO DRIVE OFF WITHOUT YOU!"
"Just one moment! I'm almost done!" he shouted back, holding up his index finger to indicate one more minute. As he turned back to Hermione, she pulled him into a hug and rested her chin on his shoulder. "I'll—um—miss you," he finished in a surprised manner.
"I'll miss you too and Harry," her quivering voice began, "don't worry so much. You've been too stressed out about everything."
"I can't help but be stressed out!" he said fiercely, beginning to pull away. "Sirius is gone, Umbridge is back, and the fact that my life must include murder is—"
"About that," Hermione interrupted him, pulling him back into the hug, "what will come, will come—" she stopped. Harry heard her take in short stabs of breath to prevent herself from crying, but it was helpless. "And—and," she began to sniffle.
"And we'll meet it when it does," Harry finished softly for her. Hermione stopped her hyperventilating and pulled away to look at him. Her tear filled eyes, which was so cliché to Harry by this point, gazed into his and he felt a painful twinge in his heart.
He looked away.
"How'd you know?" she asked, awestruck. Harry shrugged and pulled away completely from her now that Ron was running back towards them. Hermione turned her back to him, wiped her eyes dry, and then did an about face, smiling at Ron.
"Everything alright between you two?" Ron asked, sensing the tension.
"Yep!" Hermione answered quite bubbly. "Just exchanging our last farewells. I hope you have a nice holiday Harry. Write if you need anything."
"Yeah. . .okay. . .thanks. I will," he forced a smile. What Hermione had told him had really sunk in. Hagrid had told him the same thing at the end of term, but he couldn't help thinking of it. Murder was such a major part of his future and no one seemed to understand how big of a role it played. The desire to have someone understand him was stronger than in Dumbledore's office. He inhaled deeply and looked at his two best friends. Ron and Hermione had always been by his side, had always been there for him.
But now he felt more isolated than ever. It wasn't the company; it was the comprehension that lacked in their relationship. He exhaled.
"You two have a fantastic holiday," he hugged the two of them one last time and then retreated to an irritated Uncle Vernon. He dragged his trunk, but over the scraping sound it caused, he could hear Ron and Hermione's fleeting footsteps.
The silent car ride he had imagined on the train was the only difference in his prediction. Uncle Vernon complained about the reason for sending Harry home. He argued that the professors were probably faking sick to gain a little time off of their own. He yelled at Harry for having to leave work when an unexpected, large order of drills had just come in. Just when Harry thought his ranting and raving was over, Uncle Vernon started up again.
"And another thing, now we won't be able to take our vacation! In just three days, Dudley would have been on holiday for two weeks! I planned a fabulous vacation to for THREE to the Bahamas! Now I'm going to have to cancel that trip!"
"SORRY THAT ME LIVING IS SUCH AN INCONVENIENCE TO YOU!" Harry roared, finally unable to put up with it any longer.
"DON'T YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME BOY! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH OF A LET DOWN IT IS TO CANCEL THIS TRIP!"
"Don't you talk to me about let downs!"
"DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO ME THAT W—"
"YOU, AUNT PETUNIA, AND THAT FILTHY PIG YOU CALL A SON, KNOW NOTHING OF LET DOWNS!" Harry screamed, releasing somewhat of all the blind rage he had built up in him. Uncle Vernon slammed on the breaks and stared at him in shock. His eyes looked like that of a mad cow and his nostrils flared.
"I—cannot—believe—the way—you—just—spoke to me," Uncle Vernon hissed.
"If canceling your stupid trip is the biggest let down you've experienced than you know nothing of disappointment!"
"Oh I know of disappointment boy," Uncle Vernon growled dangerously. "The biggest let down, the event that made me the most depressed I had ever been in my life, was having you show up on our doorstep!" Harry felt his heart pounding in his chest, dying at the very moment Uncle Vernon said those words. His throat immediately felt clogged and foggy. He felt like throwing up. Dumbledore really couldn't force anyone to love anyone. All he could do was influence, and Vernon Dursley was not convinced. Harry now understood what Dumbledore had meant about the word hate in the hospital wing. It seemed so bland on the surface, but it was much deeper, much more capable of tearing your flesh and ripping your heart to pieces than any other word. Harry was crushed. He had known it all along, but never really occurred to him how much the Dursleys hated him.
They pulled into the driveway. A question came so quickly to Harry that he didn't have time to reword it and just blurted it out.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
"Because you are a freak," Uncle Vernon spat coldly. He started to unbuckle.
"That's your best reason? Because I'm different? You are pathetic Dursley. I can't even believe we are related."
"What did you say?"
"I mean, most families would be proud to have a son or daughter that possessed the ability I have. But you are not like other families who are muggle parents, but have a unique son or daughter. You're not like them, which in some ways, makes you a freak. For that, I hate you. Dudley is a freak, but you love him!" Harry fired back, fury burning his throat.
"HOW DARE YOU! MY SON IS NOT A FREAK!"
"Oh yeah? Anything that fat and still able to have a beating heart and unclogged arteries is freak! But you know what I don't understand? You two are freaks, but not once have I ever regretted showing up on your doorstep! Thank you for helping me realize that at least I have a place to go!" With hot tears in his eyes, Harry ripped the seatbelt off his chest and got out of the car. He found Dudley's baseball bat lying in the grass and picked it up. Slowly, he retreated to the passenger's side of the car. Uncle Vernon's eyes grew big as Harry aimed the bat at the window. Harry swung the bat with all his might. The window cracked in various places. He swung again and it all came shattering down. The glass exploded from the frame and littered the passenger seat, the car floor, and the ground. Harry poked his head into the broken frame, chest rising up and down in furious attempts to catch a decent breath.
"Freak!" he cried. "You freak." Uncle Vernon's mouth was gaping. His eyes searched Harry's face for an apology, but Harry was not remorseful for his actions. Instead, he pulled his face out of the window frame and threw the baseball bat into the street where it landed with a clang. He stormed inside.
Feeling somewhat better now that he had gotten that off his chest, he grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and drank big, lung gulps. Aunt Petunia ran into the kitchen and came to a halt at his appearance.
"What was that noise?" she demanded, but before Harry could answer, Uncle Vernon had burst throw the door with shards of glass on his sports jacket. Aunt Petunia gasped and nearly fainted at Vernon's entrance. This is really my best protection? Harry thought, sickly amusing himself with the question. Uncle Vernon's temples pulsated.
"YOU—ROOM," was all he could force out. He pointed towards the stairs, keeping his protuberant, crazed eyes fixed upon Harry's neck. "NOW!" he roared. Harry dashed up the stairs, taking them in threes, but froze by his door. There was smoke coming out of it. He burst inside.
There was music blaring. Three boys, whom Harry did not know, where singing loudly along with the song. Another five where sitting on his bed smoking, and Dudley was in the center of the room, telling jokes over the noise. There were empty beer bottles and stains scattered all over his floor. Hedwig's cage had been overturned and the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year was torn in half. The anger he had let go by smashing the car window had swelled in the pit of his stomach.
"GET OUT OF HERE!" he yelled. No one noticed his presence. He was surprised that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia hadn't come up and request that the music be turned down a bit. Harry decided to do them a favor.
He walked around the cigarette butts and beer bottles to where the stereo sat blasting a song about anarchy in England. He could just turn the music off, or simply turn it down to the point that they would hear him, but Harry was known for smashing things when he was upset. He lifted the stereo above his head and slammed it onto the hard wood floor. The music died with the sound of a fly buzzing. All conversation stopped abruptly. Harry smirked devilishly and knowing there was going to be a discrepancy, stealthily slid his wand from his robes and into a drawer so he wouldn't be tempted. Dudley's massive figure revolved slowly to meet Harry's somewhat skinny one.
"What do you think your doing?" Dudley yelled. Harry's smile widened.
"I'm not doing anything," he shrugged. "It's already been done." He watched in an amused manner as Dudley's face managed to pull his lips and double chins into a threatening look. Dudley punched a fist into his open hand and began to advance on Harry. His posse of what looked like a bunch of Crabbe and Goyles formed a crescent shape around Dudley like a pack of wolves around their leader.
"That stereo cost my parents a lot of money. Oh you're going to pay, but not with your money, with your life! Let's get 'im boys!" Dudley snarled.
"Ha!" Harry laughed in his face. "Can't take me yourself eh Ickle Diddykins?" Instead of an offended reaction, Harry received guffaws from Dudley and his gang.
"I can take you anytime I please. I mean, look at you," he chuckled, punching one of his cronies in the arm in a friendly sort of way. "But, I just want to make sure you get beaten to a bloody pulp. Kill 'im." Someone slugged Harry from the right and sent his glasses flying. Harry stumbled backwards and tripped over Hedwig's fallen cage.
"Heh heh heh. Look at him. He's like a new born deer. Can't even stand on his own two legs," the gang member who punched him laughed. Harry began to pull himself up, but the throb of his injured jaw made it extra difficult. The boys took a step closer and stared down at him, all smiling. Harry pulled himself up and looked back at them. Then with the swiftness he had developed due to Quidditch, he knocked Dudley back with a powerful uppercut. Someone tried to catch Harry off his guard by attacking from the far left, but seeing him out of the corner of his eye, Harry ducked. As soon as he had squatted down to avoid the blow, he felt someone's knee come in contact with his nose.
Harry fell backwards and smacked his head on the ground. His nose started gushing blood from both nostrils. It trickled down onto his lips and seeped onto his tongue. His taste buds found the taste of blood pleasant, and he regained strength and motivation to taste more. With cat like grace, he flung himself on a gang member with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth and brought him to the ground. He slugged the guy's chin so hard that his cigarette went flying and his knuckles started to bleed. The other members rushed to his aide. They pulled Harry off him and began to kick him everywhere. Someone kicked his shins, another kicked his hip. Dudley stomped on his chest, crushing his ribs.
Harry's breathing became shallow as the pain Umbridge had installed fluttered back to life. His fingers started twitching, and he winced to try and make it stop, but it grew and grew, pounding throughout him like a hammer on a rail road spike. One of the members wearing what looked like a black army beret saw Harry's hand flailing. He waltzed over to it and smiled down upon Harry. He raised his foot over his hand, and froze it, evil tinting his eyes.
"Do it Gordon!" the gang member Harry had flung himself on cheered. "Crush his lil fingers into dust!" The gang member smiled a bloody smile at Gordon. Harry had apparently knocked out a tooth.
"I dunno Piers," Gordon laughed. "'Sup to Dud. Whaddya say Dud? Should I break his hands?" Dudley smiled maliciously and then turned to Gordon.
"Nah," he growled, punching Gordon playfully in the arm. "I'll take it from here. Help me stand him up though." Gordon and Piers hooked theirs arms under Harry's arm pits. He felt too weak to struggle as they set him up for Dudley. Harry had suffered much more pain than a beating from Dudley. He had suffered much worse emotional pain as well. A bloody nose and a few broken ribs weren't going to stop him. Dudley had him pinned against the wall. He wrapped his chubby fingers around Harry's throat.
"Can we let go now?" Piers asked. Dudley nodded slowly. His tongue hung out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he brought his fist behind his ear. Thinking fast, Harry pulled the stunt Malfoy had when they fought on the train. He grabbed Dudley's forearm and swung his foot into his lower midriff. Dudley crumbled to the floor in pain, gasping for breath. Harry did the same now that he had regained possession of his windpipe.
"You hit below the belt!" one of the members yelled.
"Thought—you—said you—could take me," Harry panted, scrambling to get up and wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve. "I was out—numbered—nine—to one—and still," he paused to catch his breath, looking around at all the surprised and angry expressions, "you couldn't beat me." Gordon picked up a beer bottle and smashed it on the desk. With the sharp, jagged ends towards Harry, he charged him, but Dudley grabbed his pants leg.
"Don't," he breathed. "I can beat my own cousin." Dudley slowly rose to his full height. He swaggered over to Harry and breathed in his face. Harry smelt alcohol on his breath and turned his head away from the foul odor. Dudley clutched Harry's jaw and directed it straight forward again. More quickly and with much more force than he had ever used, Dudley threw a punch. Harry ducked in time. Dudley struck the wall and caused part of it to cave in. He yelled in frustration and pain and looked down at his bruised and bloody knuckles. The gang members swelled around to see if they were broken or not.
Harry smiled and began to pick himself up. His ribs were hammering his chest, his jaw throbbed, and practically every inch on his body ached, but that couldn't take away the satisfaction of beating Dudley. The only thing that could was Uncle Vernon who happened to walk in at the racket the impact of Dudley's fist on the dry wall had made. Harry's heart sunk into his stomach. Here it comes, he thought nervously.
"WHAT THE DEVIL—LOOK AT MY WALL! LOOK AT MY WALL!" Harry groaned under his breath and gave up trying to stand. "HAVEN'T YOU BROKEN ENOUGH THINGS FOR ONE DAY?" Uncle Vernon roared so mightily, the house shook. "D'YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS IS GOING TO COST TO REPAIR? I DON'T HINK YOU HAVE THE MONEY TO DO SO DO YOU?" Harry looked up at Uncle Vernon and shook his head apologetically.
"No I don't have the money," he mumbled gravely. Uncle Vernon began pulling at his hair and grunting inaudible words.
"He made me smash the wall Dad! He ducked when I was gonna deck him for smashing my stereo!" Dudley whined. "Look at it! That can't be fixed! It's a total wreck!"
"YOU BROKE HIS STEREO TOO? D'YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT COST? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU BOY? WHAT—AM—I—GOING—TO—DO?" He marched over to Harry and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He picked him up and flung him against the wall. Harry's head whip lashed into the caved in part of the wall and broke it in. He felt his head hit something cold and metallic. Wiggling himself free from Uncle Vernon's grip, Harry turned his head and saw that it was a small refrigerator buried in the wall. Uncle Vernon let go of Harry due to the utterly perplexing idea of a refrigerator in a wall.
"You are pathetic," Harry said shaking his head in disbelief. "You can't stuff your face enough so you buried a miniature 'fridge in my wall! That was pretty stupid Dud, how were you gonna get to it?" Harry noticed that Uncle Vernon wondered the same thing because he turned to face Dudley with his mouth hanging open.
"I. .I don't know what you—you're talking about!" Dudley stammered. "I wasn't born when this house was built. I couldn't have poss. .possibly buried a refrigerator in a wall."
"Everyone go home," Uncle Vernon ordered. Ecstasy filled the gang members' eyes, being able to escape trouble so easily. They grumbled goodbyes to Dudley as they ran past and out the front door. Harry turned back to the refrigerator and pulled open the door. Chunks of ice tumbled out as the door became ajar. The whole refrigerator was filled to the top with ice. Harry started to pull some of the chunks out to find anything else that could have been hidden. He removed one rather large chunk on the second rack and found a vial. The vial was closed with an opal stopper and came to a point at the end. Out of curiosity, Harry touched the point on the end of the vial. It pricked his finger and added to his bloody appearance.
Inside the vial was a brick-red substance that bubbled slightly as Harry turned it right side up again. He felt a papery label on the other side and slowly turned it so he could read it. His eyes read the words, but he reread them to make sure he was reading right. After the fifth time he read the label, his breath caught in his throat and he almost dropped the vial. He clutched it in his hand so hard that his bloody knuckles turned white and the glass almost exploded in his hand. The label read Lily's Blood.
"How twisted can you get?" Harry panted through gritted teeth. "Why would you do something like this? COULDN'T YOU LET HER REST IN PEACE?" he yelled at them, trembling with rage.
"What are you talking about?" Uncle Vernon asked sternly. Harry shuffled around and shoved the vial in his face.
"What is this all about?" he asked calmly, eyes darting from Uncle Vernon to Dudley. His lip quivered and he clenched and unclenched his injured jaw. "What kind of twisted people are you?"
"MUM!" Dudley yelled. "MUMMY! C'MERE! C'MERE QUICK! HARRY'S GONE MAD!" A few minutes later they heard Aunt Petunia dashing up the stairs. She ran into Harry's room and placed her arms around Dudley. She looked frantic and disturbed by Dudley's broken knuckles and the state Harry's room was in.
"What is it Duddsters? What is—?" Harry thrust the vial in her face also. She cowered away from it and shielded her eyes. "TAKE IT AWAY! GO AWAY!"
"Why is this here? Why would you do this to my mum?" he asked her, rage growing up from his stomach, burning his throat, and shimmering out his eyes. "Why did you steal her blood?" They all stared unblinkingly at Harry who grew so angry with them; he bit his lip to keep from destroying something else. A heartsick feeling washed over him. "Answer me!" he demanded.
Aunt Petunia looked at Uncle Vernon. Her mouth moved up and down trying to form words, but she was unsuccessful. She flopped down to the floor and started sobbing. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed big sobs, gulping down air before another set of tears flooded down her face. No one knelt down to comfort her.
"It was to protect us from Voldemort! We had to do it ever since you came here!" she sobbed, pounding the ground with her fist in a lugubrious way. "Dumbledore—Dumbledore said that home is where ever the mother's blood is!" Harry began pacing back and forth and grabbed his hair by the roots.
"You took it literally?" he screamed. "You're more stupid than he is!" Harry cried out, jerking a thumb in Dudley's direction.
"Dumbledore said—"
"What Dumbledore meant was that you had Lily's blood in you because you are her sister! That's why I had to go home to you each summer because you are blood related!" he scolded, running his fingers through his hair. Petunia looked up at Harry and began to shake her head, weeping dry weeps. She had no more tears to cry.
"We're not blood related. I was adopted!" Harry froze. He stopped in mid comb through his already matted hair. "I was adopted!" she sobbed.
"Adopted?" Uncle Vernon asked incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me you were adopted?"
"I didn't," she cried into her hands, "I didn't want anyone to find out about the blood!"
"Yeah. . .well you blew your cover you filth," Harry spat heading towards the door and tucking the vial in his robes pocket.
"Where do you think you're going?" Uncle Vernon asked. "You're not going anywhere until this is sorted out!"
"What's left to sort out Dursley?" Harry shouted. "I don't need you guys anymore! I have been lied to all my life by people I'm not even related too! You even fooled Dumbledore! I have my protection right here in my pocket! Where ever I go, she'll be there! I'm leaving and never coming back!" He narrowed his eyes at Aunt Petunia whose sobs had turned to sniffles. "YOU CALLED MY MUM A FREAK! WHO'S THE FREAK NOW?"
Harry slammed the door shut. He slammed it shut for the last time in his life. He went back to the glass of water he had poured before being sent upstairs and finished it in one gigantic gulp. The vial was cool against his leg. He pulled it out and brought it clutched in his fist to his forehead. He was disgusted at the thought that Aunt Petunia had drawn blood from his mother's dead body. Didn't she go through enough? his mind screamed at Petunia.
"Oh Mum," he sighed, "I'm sorry." A single tear fell onto the vial and plopped off from the tip of it and onto the linoleum counter. Why am I crying? I should be crying with joy. I don't have to live with the Dursleys anymore and I'll always have my mother's blood to protect me! Stop crying, he ordered himself. He kissed the cold, glass vial, grabbed his trunk, and set out the door. "Voldemort," Harry snarled heroically, "come and get me!"
The class sat in horror at the sight they had just witnessed. No one moved nor dared to take in a breath. Mouths gaped and eyes bulged. Was Snape dead? Another odor was added to the room due to Snape's ordeal. It was the stomach churning smell of a rotting citrus fruit decaying in the blistering sun. As the shock of the situation sunk in, the room started to become alive with students again. Malfoy, sitting in the front near Snape's desk, ran out of the room with his hand clamped over his mouth. A girl shrieked and broke down crying.
"That's two deaths this year," Harry heard someone whisper. "From now on I'm going to be home schooled." This comment, which had absolutely no reaction to what had just happened, upset Harry.
"Someone get Madam Pomfrey!" he yelled. Bodies slowly revolved in their chairs and forced their terrified faces to stare up at him. No one moved at his command. Hermione shivered, but did not move and Ron just gripped the bottom of his seat. "Fine," Harry growled, "I'll go." He ran out of the room to the now familiar path to the hospital wing.
He reached the hospital in a matter of seconds and barged in. His eyes grew terribly dry and his throat used that as a cue to form a gagging lump of phlegm right below his Adam's apple at the sight of the hospital wing. Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout were sprawled out in hospital beds. At their sides were silver and battered buckets filled almost to the brim with something that resembled molasses. The only three professors that were not present were Umbridge, Binns, and Trelawney. Harry spotted a frantic Pomfrey carrying a tray out of an undisclosed back room. She dropped the tray with a clatter at the sight of Harry.
"YOU!" she yelled in a shrill, high pitched tone. "LEAVE! NOW! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT THIS PLACE! I CAN'T DO IT ALL!"
"Madam Pom—"
"I can't do it all," she began to weep into her shaking hands. "Leave Potter! I guarantee that you are fine. LEAVE!" She picked up the tray and walked over to Professor McGonagall and began to dab her forehead with a cold wash cloth, wiping her own tears away with the back of her hand.
"Listen. I'm not here because of me. Snape became violently ill just now and passed out," Harry calmly said. "We're not sure if he's dead or not." He cautiously approached Madam Pomfrey, whose weeps had subsided into whimpers, and overlooked the condition of Professor McGonagall. As soon as he had reached her bedside, Madam Pomfrey's hand had frozen in mid air. Her jaw moved slightly up and down in an attempt to form words of disbelief and denial.
"Oh no. Tell me this is not happening," she managed to mumble in a barely audible voice.
"What's wrong with them?" Harry pointed to the ill professors.
"They've been poisoned. And they were poisoned by the most potent substance. Without a potions master. . . " she trailed off. "We have to save Snape first."
"What's this stuff in these pails here? Is this medication? Can't we use this?" Harry asked. Madam Pomfrey let out a nervous laugh.
"That's their stomach contents Potter. I like to call it a chuck bucket. Come on, we don't have much time." She walked hurriedly towards the hospital wing door. Harry took off after her. They made their way up the corridor (which seemed especially long because they were trying to get there in a hurry) and were just about to step into Snape's dungeon when the worst person possible to show up at a time like this, stepped in front of Harry and Madam Pomfrey.
"What's wrong Poppy?" The rage in Harry had created a beast that gave off the notion of a rabid dog in a cage. Umbridge had been poking the beast with a stick repeatedly and the dog ached to get out and demolish her. Now the cage door had been left ajar.... Don't do anything rash, his conscience told him, only it wasn't his voice. It was Sirius's. Who better to know about raging, captivated dogs than Sirius? But Sirius isn't here anymore, the other half of Harry's conscience taunted. Don't listen to him! He's dead!
"Severus and the other Professors have been poisoned," Madam Pomfrey said impatiently as she tried to push past her.
"Oh that's horrible!" Umbridge gasped, but for a split second, Harry could have sworn he saw her smile. "Children such as Potter shouldn't be witnessing this sort of thing! I'll escort him to my office."
"I've seen much worse. You know I've seen worse," Harry snarled through gritted teeth, shaking with fury. Before he could defend himself, Umbridge's stubby, fat fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist so tight that the "I will not tell lies" phrase embedded in his skin glowed. She gripped him so tightly that he could actually feel his own pulse thumping against her finger tips. The tighter her grip, the wider her malicious smile. Madam Pomfrey didn't take notice and instead pushed herself between the Umbridge barrier and into Snape's dungeon.
"Come Potter," Umbridge hissed. She yanked him down the hallway to the door he dreaded and with much protest, finally got him inside. "Sit," she commanded, smile gone.
"I prefer to stand thanks," he said coolly. She watched him like a vulture watching its prey take its final breath of life. He suddenly had no fear facing Umbridge. Despite the fact that she had caused him excruciating pain the day before, he was ready for her. Harry's fingertips grasped his wand lightly in his robe's pocket.
"I told you to sit."
"No!" Harry yelled and then the smile came back to Umbridge. So disgustingly sweet, it burned into your mind. To Harry, facial expressions had never been able to reveal so much about a person. But Umbridge's did. It gave the impression that she would cackle at a funeral as the relatives of the deceased placed a rose on the casket. Then Harry thought of his parents dying. If she had been there, she probably would have laughed, he though furiously. And this thought, brought on by his raging conscience, had forced that rabid dog out of its cage. He overturned a desk and sent miscellaneous items crashing to the floor. He then kicked over a chair and sent it flying across the room. She smiled as Dumbledore had when Harry destroyed his possessions at the end of last year.
"Poor boy. Snape being poisoned really upset you huh? You must really like the guy."
"I don't like Snape!" Harry huffed. "I never did and I never will!" He sent another chair careening across the room. Umbridge didn't flinch as it crashed into a wooden cabinet that wobbled back and forth due to the impact.
"If you'll stop wrecking my room for a second, I'd like to give you some tea to calm your nerves," she said in a voice that reminded Harry of Trelawney's. She slithered over to Harry, smiling, and placed a cup on a saucer on the desk he hadn't managed to destroy. "Bottoms up Potter!" He clutched his wand close to him as he peered over the edge of the cup. Inside looked like one of Trelawney's tea leaves had rotted and liquefied. The tea emitted a familiar smell; the smell of Snape's dungeon before he had vomited. Umbridge's eyes bulged as he picked up the cup. He brought it to his lips and froze. She was bearing her teeth in a grin that looked like a grimace. He then flung the cup down onto the floor and watched it shatter into oblivion. The liquid sizzled on the floor.
"Did you honestly think I would fall for your 'tea act' again? I don't have any information that you need. Why are you trying to use Veritaserum on me?" he spat. A single bead of sweat trickled down her cheek and dropped slowly from her chin as she stared at the broken ceramic cup and black goo, which was supposedly tea.
"IT WASN'T VERITASERUM!" she screamed in his face. Her eyes flashed red and green and Harry's scar felt like it was trying to be sawed in half. She closed her eyes and his scar stopped throbbing. He grabbed the table for support and tried to fight his rising gorge. As his eyes came into focus again, he stared down at the bubbling black liquid. It's their stomach contents Potter, Madam Pomfrey's nervous laugh rang in his mind and his stomach lurched as he realized what Umbridge had tried to serve him.
"You," he mumbled. "It was you. You despicable woman! You poisoned them! YOU POISONED THEM ALL!" Umbridge threw her head back and cackled. Her laugh sounded like thunder and lightening and all hated noise. Her devilish chuckle rose from the depths of hell and echoed off the walls. Harry made his hand into a fist. Umbridge brought her head forward and narrowed her eyes into snake like slits. She placed her hands on her hips and leaned in towards Harry.
"Where's your proof?" she snorted.
"Right there! How will you explain that?" he yelled, pointing to the broken cup and poisoned tea. Umbridge gently slapped her cheek in mock surprise.
"Right where Potter? I don't see anything." She drew her wand and gave it a tiny flick. The poison, cup, and saucer all vanished into a wisp of smoke. Her cackle began to rise. Harry snarled and took a step closer to her, raising his clenched fist.
"Now, now Potter. Don't do anything rash," she laughed even harder. His body became paralyzed from the neck down. His breath was caught in his throat and his face grew hot, terribly hot. She had mimicked Sirius. She smiled at Harry, smiled at Sirius's death.
"Don't you ever," Harry started to say, but couldn't force it out of him. His brain was too focused on hurting Umbridge than finishing sentences. He drew his wand and aimed it at her heart. Her smile died instantly.
"You wouldn't," she breathed.
"You killed them! Killed Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and," he stammered, "and—and my uncle! You deserve—"
"HARRY NO!" Dumbledore stepped into the doorway and pulled out his own wand. "Accio wand!" Harry's wand was torn from him and into Dumbledore's free hand. Fawkes then soared into the classroom and snatched Umbridge's wand from her trembling hand. He did not issue and explanation.
"Albus I demand my wand back! Potter threatened to kill—"
"You will address me as Professor Dumbledore. Understood?" he said in a booming, stern voice. "And I know what he tried to do Dolores."
"But Professor, she poisoned all of the other teachers except for Trelawney and Binns!"
"I know!" Dumbledore shouted. "I know what is going on! Do not mistake me for a fool who does not know about any of the mishaps that occur while he is gone," his usually soft blue eyes turned to that of cold, wet marble. He placed the confiscated wands into his robes and took a deep breath, "Professor Trelawney sent me Fawkes with a letter explaining what had happened. Where is Poppy?"
"In Snape's dungeon," Umbridge answered. "I didn't think that Potter needed to witness such a horrid event so I took him to my classroom."
"And the other students?"
"Well if Poppy Pomfrey was in the right state of mind she would have sent them out," Umbridge answered, slightly abashed. Harry saw her look at him from the corner of her eye. Her famous smile appeared as Dumbledore began to stroke his beard in thought. "Can I interest you in some tea Professor?"
"No. I'm fine thank you," he glared down at Harry as he said this. He then turned on his heel, cloak billowing at his ankles and retreated in the direction of Snape's dungeon. From down the hall he called, "Come you two." Harry dashed out of the room as soon as Dumbledore had hollered back. Umbridge puffed at his heels.
They followed Dumbledore down into Snape's dungeon. To Harry's surprise (and to Umbridge's satisfaction) the students had been removed from the classroom. Dumbledore made his way silently through the eaves- dropping crowd and closed the dungeon door. Harry spotted Ron and Hermione in a corner, whispering rapidly to each other. Both had expressions of a heart broken toddler witnessing his dead fish being flushed down the toilet. It pained Harry the slightest bit to see them traumatized. As he walked over to them, he saw Ron reach for Hermione's hand slowly, probably to comfort her. Burning with anxiousness to tell them that Umbridge poisoned them all, but not wanting to ruin the moment, he halted and searched for someone else to talk with. Seamus Finnigan came into view, whispering amongst a few other Gryffindors. Harry started to join Seamus's posse of listeners, but Hermione spotted him.
"Harry! Over here!" she called to him. He watched as Ron spun around, jerked his arm back, and redden. With a faint sense of guilt in the pit of his stomach, her hurried over towards them. "Snape's been poisoned!" Hermione half-whispered, half-shouted. "We heard Madam Pomfrey!"
"I know," Harry whispered as he lowered into a huddle with Ron and Hermione in an effort to blend out of the crowd. "And so have Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, McGonagall, and the rest except for Umbridge, Binns, and Trelawney."
"How do you know?" asked Ron as his eyes grew larger.
"Because I saw them in the hospital wing. All of them. They were all sweating and gaunt looking with what Madam Pomfrey likes to call a 'chuck bucket' filled to the brim with their vomit."
"That's disgusting!" Hermione cried and cupped her hands over her mouth.
"Well poison has gotta leave your system somehow Hermione," Ron explained. "It doesn't just disappear like. . .like magic."
"Yeah and I know who did it," Harry glanced over at Umbridge to whom Malfoy was talking—sucking up to. "It was Umbridge. I know because she tried to poison me when she dragged me down to her classroom."
"That's great!" Ron sprang up.
"What?" yelled Harry, offended. "Ron, she tried to poison me! Poison me! What could possibly be terrific about the fact that I could have been throwing up everything I've ever digested and half a lung?"
"And most likely could have died," Hermione added. Ron started shaking his and smiling at Harry and Hermione's defensive reactions.
"You know it's not that guys. You have to have a more in-depth grasp on the situation. Through suffering comes greatness," he stated in a matter of fact tone. Harry and Hermione blinked simultaneously. "I read it somewhere. Anyway, now Umbridge can be fired! That's more than a death threat! That's an attempted homicide! You suffered with her long enough to the point that she tried to kill you and now she can be fired and out of your life forever! Pain equals good!" Ron exclaimed. Harry sighed and straightened up out of their huddle.
"That's not going to happen. I have no proof. She destroyed it all. If only I would have—" He was cut off by the clatter of the dungeon door being slammed open and the appearance of Dumbledore carrying Snape in his arms. Snape's eyelids were half closed, showing the white part of his eyes. His jaw slacked to one side and the tip of his tongue peeped out of the corners of his chapped-lipped mouth. A blood diluted drool string trickled down the drying blood and regurgitation on his chin.
"Listen up all of you," Dumbledore commanded without the slightest hint of struggle in his voice. "Due to the poor health and lack of Professors, Hogwarts will have to be closed until further notice. Go to your dormitories and pack your things. I will meet you all in the Great Hall with further instructions. Go." The students, whose eyes had taken the shape of Luna's, looked at one another and sped off to their common rooms. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned to leave with the fleeting crowd, but Dumbledore called Harry back. "I need to speak with Harry alone," he told Ron and Hermione. Once again leaving Harry, they smiled reassuringly and walked off. Harry saw Ron reach for Hermione's hand again, but a frightened Slytherin had run between them.
Dumbledore stood straight up unblinkingly outside Snape's dungeon. Harry sensed a vibe that Dumbledore did not want to be questioned about holding him back and so silently stood at his side. The door opened and Madam Pomfrey slid out with a hand full of herbs and spices, bottles filled with multi colored substances, and a rather large book in her mouth.
"Do you have everything needed Poppy?" a now soft-spoken Dumbledore asked. Madam Pomfrey, unable to talk due to the book, nodded vigorously and caught a slipping bottle with her arm pit. "Okay, let's drop Severus off then." He strode down towards the hospital wing being careful not to accidentally whack Snape's head on a statue and opened the door for Madam Pomfrey. She shuffled in, placed her items down on an already cluttered desk, and started to set up a bed.
"Okay," she panted, "here's a bed for him Professor. I'll try and make that antidote to the best of my ability, but I didn't do so well in potions when I took my O.W.Ls."
"That's fine Poppy. Whatever will keep them breathing. I'll be back to check on the status of all the professors in about half an hour." The hospital bed creaked as he cautiously lowered Snape's limp body onto it. Dumbledore straightened up and stared down upon Harry. He did not smile and his eyes did not indicate warmth. "You'll be coming with me to my office. Good luck Poppy," he said. Harry and Dumbledore walked briskly out of the room and to the stone statue that disguised Dumbledore's stone staircase. He gave the password and without waiting for Harry, immediately began to ascend up the spiraling stairs.
They entered his room. All the things Harry had smashed and destroyed were replaced, unscathed on top of Dumbledore's shelves. The portraits wore grim expressions and did not smile nor talk amongst themselves when Harry entered. He waited until Dumbledore had sat down in his high-backed arm chair to sit down in a wooden chair opposite. Dumbledore placed his fingertips together and rocked his connected hands back and forth. Harry felt uncomfortable in the seat he sat in. Memories of last year came flooding back to him.
"I'm sorry I have been so cross with you," Dumbledore sighed, interrupting his flowing memories. "You'd feel the same way if you could understand where I'm coming from."
"I accept your apology," Harry croaked. "But why am I here?"
"You will be going back to the Dursleys."
"What?" Harry exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.
"Go ahead and smash my things. As you can see, they are replaceable," Dumbledore told him hurtfully. Harry lost the urge to destroy Dumbledore's possessions. What good did it do him to break everything in his sight?
"I won't go!" he yelled instead of throwing something at the wall. "I hate it there! Why can't I go with Ron or at least back to Grimmauld Place?"
"You would be putting the Order of the Phoenix and the Weasleys in danger while residing with them in our wizarding world. Voldemort is now able to fight old men like me without much help. You saw that in the ministry last year. He's stronger Harry. His Death Eaters have gotten stronger and the fear of him has gotten to the point where Cornelius Fudge is starting to break down. You simply must go back to the Dursleys."
"The Order can fight off Voldemort!"
"But what if someone else you hold most dear to your heart dies? Then what Harry? Then what? Then you won't have the will, or motivation to fulfill the Prophecy," Dumbledore fired back, starting to rise from his chair also.
"The Prophecy," Harry muttered. "That damned Prophecy! It's only a prediction! If you were the only one Voldemort ever feared, why couldn't you just—"
"Let's not get into that right now Harry. You are going to the Dursleys and that is an order. I'm not doing it to punish you. I am doing it to protect you."
"You're doing it to protect the stupid Prophecy!"
"I'm doing it because I love you!" Dumbledore roared. "I knew how you feel because I was an orphan too. My parents died when I was only a few months old. I don't know how, but they did. That's why family is so important Harry. Family and your mother's blood will keep you safe. I had to live with my mother's brother. Her blood coursed through him and I felt more than protection. I felt loved."
"You obviously didn't have an aunt and uncle like mine. Mine are forced to keep me. You are forcing them to love me," Harry spat. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the door.
"I love you like a grandson Harry. I'd do anything to keep you alive. But I can't force anyone to do anything. Wizard or not," Dumbledore stopped him. "I can only influence them to do it on their own free will." Harry looked down at the doorknob that glistened in his hand. Dumbledore's words had branded themselves into Harry's mind. He was drowning in a sea of mixed emotions. Frozen by the door in Dumbledore's office, unsure of how he felt at the moment, Harry realized why Cho had broken down so much. As simple minded and roseate as she seemed to Harry, she was confused and needed a shoulder to cry on. She didn't cry because she thought he was a bad kisser, and she didn't cry for attention. She cried because she needed someone that could understand what she was feeling.
Now he needed someone that could understand. The only person that really did was gone, and Cho, who did feel mixed emotions, did not feel the same emotions Harry felt. She didn't lose a family member; she lost a trophy to show off to her friends. As much platonic love Harry had for Ron and Hermione, they would only pretend to comprehend and say everything was okay. It wasn't okay. Harry's heart leaped into his throat and the twisted, forlorn image of no one being there for him burned his eyes.
"Whatever," he muttered and quickly led himself out of the room. Coming down the staircase, he wiped away what little tears had started to form and slouched into the Great Hall. The atmosphere was decorated in tension. He went to find a place at the Gryffindor table. As usual, he found Ron and Hermione and squeezed in between them. The other houses, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, had joined the Great Hall in a matter of minutes with suitcases and packages that they had obviously packed to take home with them. All those who had entered wore frightened, splenetic faces as they took their seats. Because of the mood the Gryffindors and Slytherins had set, no one spoke. And no one moved until Dumbledore joined the fearful crowd, his presence installing hope in some. He faced the students and began to speak with a saturnine tint in his voice.
"My fellow Hogwarts students, unbeknownst to some of you, tragedy has stricken the school. All but three professors have been poisoned. Madam Pomfrey is using her best efforts to create a most difficult antidote. Until we either employ enough back up professors, or until our regular ones are in perfect health, the school must be closed," someone let out a small whoop. Dumbledore immediately spotted the culprit and stared an unmerciful stare at the student. "This is not something to celebrate," he spat dourly. "These professors are in such horrible condition that I'm afraid that there is a chance they may die." Harry saw someone shrink into their chair and blush a bright red. Tell them it was Umbridge, he thought desperately. Tell the whole school it was that poor excuse for a human being! "You all must proceed to Hogsmeade in order to catch the train home. Your parents have been notified." Dumbledore opened the Great Hall doors and ushered them out. He grasped Harry's arm.
"What?" Harry demanded, trying to pull free.
"You will go to the Dursleys Harry. That is an order," and with that said, Dumbledore let go and hurried two first years along the current of frantic students. Harry sighed deeply and then tugged his trunk along Ron and Hermione. The three of them were silent as they made their way to the train station. Both Hermione and Ron had overheard what Dumbledore had told Harry at the Great Hall doors, but kept their mouths shut. Harry focused his eyes on his feet, too angry to look at anything else. They heard someone retch as they passed the hospital wing.
Finally the train station came into view. The ruby Hogwarts Express awaited their arrival with its humming engine echoing off the walls. The conductor, or so Harry assumed, was directing and helping people board the freight.
"C'mon, come on," he snarled. "Don't got all day 'ere! 'Urry up and seat yo'selves!" The trio pushed themselves past a crowd of arguing students, fighting over who sat next to who and finally made it on to the train. There was a major noise difference than inside the castle. Here, people were gossiping and ranting loudly at what had happened. Disgusted at their concern for none of the professors' conditions, Harry found an unoccupied compartment and settled in.
"This is a nightmare," he breathed as he flumped down on a seat. "Torture, plain torture."
"Well," Hermione said as she sat down next to him, "who would you rather be with? Umbridge or the Dursleys?"
"Neither."
"I hear ya," Ron contributed ruefully. "I don't see why you can't just stay with us Harry."
"I know why and I guess it's a good reason to be with the Dursleys now that I truly think of it," he started rubbing his neck unconsciously as he spoke. Apologetically he said, "It's so I don't put you two and the rest of the Order in danger." Ron snorted.
"What a load of," he paused at the warning look on Hermione's face, "they don't think we can handle it? We could fight off whoever would be trying to get you."
"Voldemort you mean?" Harry asked grumpily. "He's gotten a lot stronger since our second year Ron. He's not just a memory anymore. You didn't see him in our fourth or last year. He's a lot more powerful than I would have hoped for." No one had a response to this comment and instead looked down at the floor, trying to avoid eye contact with Harry. The train jerked slightly forward and began its journey back to King's Cross. Harry could picture it in his mind: He'd say a sorrow filled goodbye to Hermione and Ron. Then after Uncle Vernon would have hollered at him for taking to long, he would shuffle away from the last bit of happiness he would have for a while. The car ride would be silent, except for the guttural snarls being produced from an upset Uncle Vernon. He would get home and be sent to his room, only to leave for food and water. Most students appreciated an unexpected vacation. Harry hated any type of vacation at all. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Hermione said cheerfully. Her cheerfulness flickered out when Luna popped her head into the compartment. "Oh," she huffed. "Can we help you Luna?" Luna smiled quickly and then stared at Ron with her enormous eyes.
"Er—what?" he asked testily as he somewhat cowered away from her.
"I wish to speak to Harry," she answered in her usual dreamy, optimistic voice. "But it's private. Could you two leave for a moment?"
"Why?" Hermione jumped up, obviously offended. "Why do you want us to leave? What can't we hear that he can?"
"I'm not going to murder him or anything. No need to get your knickers in a bunch," she fired back. Hermione sat down, her upper lip suspended in a disgusted manner.
"Why can't we hear it then?" she interrogated stiffly, crossing her arms.
"Why don't I just step outside instead?" Harry suggested, getting up quickly and walking to the door. "Be back in a moment." He shut the door behind him and rolled his eyes. Luna looked up at him and smiled. He looked away from her. After what he had gone through with Umbridge, he didn't want to see anyone smile for that day.
"Want to visit me sometime over this lovely vacation we've been granted?" she asked insouciantly.
"What? Lovely vaca—it's not lovely! Practically all the professors are an inch from death!"
"Okay," she replied. Harry gaped in disbelief. How could someone be so nonchalant? He began to shake his head. "As I was saying, well rather asking, want to visit me?"
"I can't," he replied rapidly. "Dumbledore forbade me to go anywhere. I have to stay at—"
"Home?"
"If you can call it that." There was a pause in the conversation as Luna frowned and grabbed her chin pensively.
"So you can't leave at all?" Harry nodded his head yes. "Well that put a stopper on my plans. I was wondering if you would like to visit so we could plan our visit to the Ministry of Magic. You know, to go to the veil and talk to Sirius." Harry suddenly forgave her for her disinterest in the professors.
"Thanks a bunch Dumbledore," he mumbled under his breath. "This would have been the perfect time to go and do that! Perhaps I could sneak out."
"No I wouldn't want you to do that," she told him in a matter-of- factly tone. "If you were caught then we definitely wouldn't be able to go at all. Best to play it safe. We'll do it when we go back."
"During school? When would we have the time?"
"During our Christmas break silly," she laughed. He himself grinned as Luna started to crack up at her non-hilarious comment. The thought of the opportunity to be able to talk to Sirius again made him feel delighted. Then something strange happened to him. Time seemed to be going in slow motion as he watched Luna laugh. He began to think about all the times they had talked. Every conversation he had with her had always left him with a warm feeling. A feeling that when times grew cold and dark, always raining, that there was light; an opening in the barricade. His stomach fluttered and he fell out of his sudden trance. Harry's grin turned into a smile. He cast a glance into his compartment and felt a wee bit guilty for deserting Ron and Hermione (although he was certain that Ron wasn't too bothered by the fact that he had Hermione to himself). Luna's rapturous chuckles had simmered down to the point where she was able to breathe again and she wiped the tears out of her orb like eyes.
"Whoo," she hooted, "that was a good one Harry."
"Um—thanks?"
"We'll have to keep in touch during this break. Maybe we could discuss our plans through owl mail," she suggested, her eyes twinkling. Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets to try and keep himself from blushing the slightest bit. Why am I blushing? he asked himself.
"Yeah okay, if my uncle will let me that is." They stood facing each other in an awkward silence. Luna just smiled and stared at him. Doesn't she ever blink? Harry thought nervously. "Well I better be getting back now. Don't want them to get suspicious," he said finally. Harry slipped his hand behind his back and slowly started to open the door. He waved goodbye to Luna who waved vigorously and then slipped back inside the compartment.
"Done snogging already?" Ron teased as he looked down at his nonexistent watch.
"No," Harry answered, a menacing smile creeping across his face. "I was waiting for you two to finish." Ron's face turned the color of his hair as Hermione began to laugh. "How rude," Harry joined in on the laughter, "laughing at Ron like that." Due to his conversation with Luna, Harry was in a good mood even Malfoy couldn't discourage. Hermione wasn't called in for Head Girl duty and neither Ron for prefect. The trio had a joyous ride home.
"WHEN I SAY TO LEAVE NOW I MEAN IT POTTER!" Uncle Vernon hollered impatiently over to Harry. Uncle Vernon's face was so purple with rage even his mustache looked red.
"Just a minute! I have to say goodbye!" Harry yelled back. "Have a nice holiday Ron," he said, shaking Ron's hand. "I expect numerous amounts of letters telling me all that's going on."
"Don't worry Harry. I'll send you a letter a day for as long as this holiday is," Ron smiled back, then lowering his voice so that only Harry could hear he said, "If they give you trouble lemme know. I'll get Fred and George to put them back in line."
"You can count on it," he chuckled patting Ron on the back.
"Oh there's my mum! I'll be right back guys just let me put my trunk away," Ron said as he dashed away as best as he could with a heavy trunk. Harry and Hermione watched him go before turning towards each other.
"'Bye Hermione," Harry started to say to the floor rather than her face. There was silence. Harry could hear Ron greeting his mum and shoving his trunk into the car. He finally lifted his head to meet her eyes. "I'll miss—"
"NOW BOY! YOU BETTER COME NOW!" Uncle Vernon roared. "I'M GOING TO DRIVE OFF WITHOUT YOU!"
"Just one moment! I'm almost done!" he shouted back, holding up his index finger to indicate one more minute. As he turned back to Hermione, she pulled him into a hug and rested her chin on his shoulder. "I'll—um—miss you," he finished in a surprised manner.
"I'll miss you too and Harry," her quivering voice began, "don't worry so much. You've been too stressed out about everything."
"I can't help but be stressed out!" he said fiercely, beginning to pull away. "Sirius is gone, Umbridge is back, and the fact that my life must include murder is—"
"About that," Hermione interrupted him, pulling him back into the hug, "what will come, will come—" she stopped. Harry heard her take in short stabs of breath to prevent herself from crying, but it was helpless. "And—and," she began to sniffle.
"And we'll meet it when it does," Harry finished softly for her. Hermione stopped her hyperventilating and pulled away to look at him. Her tear filled eyes, which was so cliché to Harry by this point, gazed into his and he felt a painful twinge in his heart.
He looked away.
"How'd you know?" she asked, awestruck. Harry shrugged and pulled away completely from her now that Ron was running back towards them. Hermione turned her back to him, wiped her eyes dry, and then did an about face, smiling at Ron.
"Everything alright between you two?" Ron asked, sensing the tension.
"Yep!" Hermione answered quite bubbly. "Just exchanging our last farewells. I hope you have a nice holiday Harry. Write if you need anything."
"Yeah. . .okay. . .thanks. I will," he forced a smile. What Hermione had told him had really sunk in. Hagrid had told him the same thing at the end of term, but he couldn't help thinking of it. Murder was such a major part of his future and no one seemed to understand how big of a role it played. The desire to have someone understand him was stronger than in Dumbledore's office. He inhaled deeply and looked at his two best friends. Ron and Hermione had always been by his side, had always been there for him.
But now he felt more isolated than ever. It wasn't the company; it was the comprehension that lacked in their relationship. He exhaled.
"You two have a fantastic holiday," he hugged the two of them one last time and then retreated to an irritated Uncle Vernon. He dragged his trunk, but over the scraping sound it caused, he could hear Ron and Hermione's fleeting footsteps.
The silent car ride he had imagined on the train was the only difference in his prediction. Uncle Vernon complained about the reason for sending Harry home. He argued that the professors were probably faking sick to gain a little time off of their own. He yelled at Harry for having to leave work when an unexpected, large order of drills had just come in. Just when Harry thought his ranting and raving was over, Uncle Vernon started up again.
"And another thing, now we won't be able to take our vacation! In just three days, Dudley would have been on holiday for two weeks! I planned a fabulous vacation to for THREE to the Bahamas! Now I'm going to have to cancel that trip!"
"SORRY THAT ME LIVING IS SUCH AN INCONVENIENCE TO YOU!" Harry roared, finally unable to put up with it any longer.
"DON'T YOU RAISE YOUR VOICE TO ME BOY! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH OF A LET DOWN IT IS TO CANCEL THIS TRIP!"
"Don't you talk to me about let downs!"
"DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO ME THAT W—"
"YOU, AUNT PETUNIA, AND THAT FILTHY PIG YOU CALL A SON, KNOW NOTHING OF LET DOWNS!" Harry screamed, releasing somewhat of all the blind rage he had built up in him. Uncle Vernon slammed on the breaks and stared at him in shock. His eyes looked like that of a mad cow and his nostrils flared.
"I—cannot—believe—the way—you—just—spoke to me," Uncle Vernon hissed.
"If canceling your stupid trip is the biggest let down you've experienced than you know nothing of disappointment!"
"Oh I know of disappointment boy," Uncle Vernon growled dangerously. "The biggest let down, the event that made me the most depressed I had ever been in my life, was having you show up on our doorstep!" Harry felt his heart pounding in his chest, dying at the very moment Uncle Vernon said those words. His throat immediately felt clogged and foggy. He felt like throwing up. Dumbledore really couldn't force anyone to love anyone. All he could do was influence, and Vernon Dursley was not convinced. Harry now understood what Dumbledore had meant about the word hate in the hospital wing. It seemed so bland on the surface, but it was much deeper, much more capable of tearing your flesh and ripping your heart to pieces than any other word. Harry was crushed. He had known it all along, but never really occurred to him how much the Dursleys hated him.
They pulled into the driveway. A question came so quickly to Harry that he didn't have time to reword it and just blurted it out.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
"Because you are a freak," Uncle Vernon spat coldly. He started to unbuckle.
"That's your best reason? Because I'm different? You are pathetic Dursley. I can't even believe we are related."
"What did you say?"
"I mean, most families would be proud to have a son or daughter that possessed the ability I have. But you are not like other families who are muggle parents, but have a unique son or daughter. You're not like them, which in some ways, makes you a freak. For that, I hate you. Dudley is a freak, but you love him!" Harry fired back, fury burning his throat.
"HOW DARE YOU! MY SON IS NOT A FREAK!"
"Oh yeah? Anything that fat and still able to have a beating heart and unclogged arteries is freak! But you know what I don't understand? You two are freaks, but not once have I ever regretted showing up on your doorstep! Thank you for helping me realize that at least I have a place to go!" With hot tears in his eyes, Harry ripped the seatbelt off his chest and got out of the car. He found Dudley's baseball bat lying in the grass and picked it up. Slowly, he retreated to the passenger's side of the car. Uncle Vernon's eyes grew big as Harry aimed the bat at the window. Harry swung the bat with all his might. The window cracked in various places. He swung again and it all came shattering down. The glass exploded from the frame and littered the passenger seat, the car floor, and the ground. Harry poked his head into the broken frame, chest rising up and down in furious attempts to catch a decent breath.
"Freak!" he cried. "You freak." Uncle Vernon's mouth was gaping. His eyes searched Harry's face for an apology, but Harry was not remorseful for his actions. Instead, he pulled his face out of the window frame and threw the baseball bat into the street where it landed with a clang. He stormed inside.
Feeling somewhat better now that he had gotten that off his chest, he grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and drank big, lung gulps. Aunt Petunia ran into the kitchen and came to a halt at his appearance.
"What was that noise?" she demanded, but before Harry could answer, Uncle Vernon had burst throw the door with shards of glass on his sports jacket. Aunt Petunia gasped and nearly fainted at Vernon's entrance. This is really my best protection? Harry thought, sickly amusing himself with the question. Uncle Vernon's temples pulsated.
"YOU—ROOM," was all he could force out. He pointed towards the stairs, keeping his protuberant, crazed eyes fixed upon Harry's neck. "NOW!" he roared. Harry dashed up the stairs, taking them in threes, but froze by his door. There was smoke coming out of it. He burst inside.
There was music blaring. Three boys, whom Harry did not know, where singing loudly along with the song. Another five where sitting on his bed smoking, and Dudley was in the center of the room, telling jokes over the noise. There were empty beer bottles and stains scattered all over his floor. Hedwig's cage had been overturned and the photo album Hagrid had given him at the end of his first year was torn in half. The anger he had let go by smashing the car window had swelled in the pit of his stomach.
"GET OUT OF HERE!" he yelled. No one noticed his presence. He was surprised that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia hadn't come up and request that the music be turned down a bit. Harry decided to do them a favor.
He walked around the cigarette butts and beer bottles to where the stereo sat blasting a song about anarchy in England. He could just turn the music off, or simply turn it down to the point that they would hear him, but Harry was known for smashing things when he was upset. He lifted the stereo above his head and slammed it onto the hard wood floor. The music died with the sound of a fly buzzing. All conversation stopped abruptly. Harry smirked devilishly and knowing there was going to be a discrepancy, stealthily slid his wand from his robes and into a drawer so he wouldn't be tempted. Dudley's massive figure revolved slowly to meet Harry's somewhat skinny one.
"What do you think your doing?" Dudley yelled. Harry's smile widened.
"I'm not doing anything," he shrugged. "It's already been done." He watched in an amused manner as Dudley's face managed to pull his lips and double chins into a threatening look. Dudley punched a fist into his open hand and began to advance on Harry. His posse of what looked like a bunch of Crabbe and Goyles formed a crescent shape around Dudley like a pack of wolves around their leader.
"That stereo cost my parents a lot of money. Oh you're going to pay, but not with your money, with your life! Let's get 'im boys!" Dudley snarled.
"Ha!" Harry laughed in his face. "Can't take me yourself eh Ickle Diddykins?" Instead of an offended reaction, Harry received guffaws from Dudley and his gang.
"I can take you anytime I please. I mean, look at you," he chuckled, punching one of his cronies in the arm in a friendly sort of way. "But, I just want to make sure you get beaten to a bloody pulp. Kill 'im." Someone slugged Harry from the right and sent his glasses flying. Harry stumbled backwards and tripped over Hedwig's fallen cage.
"Heh heh heh. Look at him. He's like a new born deer. Can't even stand on his own two legs," the gang member who punched him laughed. Harry began to pull himself up, but the throb of his injured jaw made it extra difficult. The boys took a step closer and stared down at him, all smiling. Harry pulled himself up and looked back at them. Then with the swiftness he had developed due to Quidditch, he knocked Dudley back with a powerful uppercut. Someone tried to catch Harry off his guard by attacking from the far left, but seeing him out of the corner of his eye, Harry ducked. As soon as he had squatted down to avoid the blow, he felt someone's knee come in contact with his nose.
Harry fell backwards and smacked his head on the ground. His nose started gushing blood from both nostrils. It trickled down onto his lips and seeped onto his tongue. His taste buds found the taste of blood pleasant, and he regained strength and motivation to taste more. With cat like grace, he flung himself on a gang member with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth and brought him to the ground. He slugged the guy's chin so hard that his cigarette went flying and his knuckles started to bleed. The other members rushed to his aide. They pulled Harry off him and began to kick him everywhere. Someone kicked his shins, another kicked his hip. Dudley stomped on his chest, crushing his ribs.
Harry's breathing became shallow as the pain Umbridge had installed fluttered back to life. His fingers started twitching, and he winced to try and make it stop, but it grew and grew, pounding throughout him like a hammer on a rail road spike. One of the members wearing what looked like a black army beret saw Harry's hand flailing. He waltzed over to it and smiled down upon Harry. He raised his foot over his hand, and froze it, evil tinting his eyes.
"Do it Gordon!" the gang member Harry had flung himself on cheered. "Crush his lil fingers into dust!" The gang member smiled a bloody smile at Gordon. Harry had apparently knocked out a tooth.
"I dunno Piers," Gordon laughed. "'Sup to Dud. Whaddya say Dud? Should I break his hands?" Dudley smiled maliciously and then turned to Gordon.
"Nah," he growled, punching Gordon playfully in the arm. "I'll take it from here. Help me stand him up though." Gordon and Piers hooked theirs arms under Harry's arm pits. He felt too weak to struggle as they set him up for Dudley. Harry had suffered much more pain than a beating from Dudley. He had suffered much worse emotional pain as well. A bloody nose and a few broken ribs weren't going to stop him. Dudley had him pinned against the wall. He wrapped his chubby fingers around Harry's throat.
"Can we let go now?" Piers asked. Dudley nodded slowly. His tongue hung out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he brought his fist behind his ear. Thinking fast, Harry pulled the stunt Malfoy had when they fought on the train. He grabbed Dudley's forearm and swung his foot into his lower midriff. Dudley crumbled to the floor in pain, gasping for breath. Harry did the same now that he had regained possession of his windpipe.
"You hit below the belt!" one of the members yelled.
"Thought—you—said you—could take me," Harry panted, scrambling to get up and wiping his bloody nose on his sleeve. "I was out—numbered—nine—to one—and still," he paused to catch his breath, looking around at all the surprised and angry expressions, "you couldn't beat me." Gordon picked up a beer bottle and smashed it on the desk. With the sharp, jagged ends towards Harry, he charged him, but Dudley grabbed his pants leg.
"Don't," he breathed. "I can beat my own cousin." Dudley slowly rose to his full height. He swaggered over to Harry and breathed in his face. Harry smelt alcohol on his breath and turned his head away from the foul odor. Dudley clutched Harry's jaw and directed it straight forward again. More quickly and with much more force than he had ever used, Dudley threw a punch. Harry ducked in time. Dudley struck the wall and caused part of it to cave in. He yelled in frustration and pain and looked down at his bruised and bloody knuckles. The gang members swelled around to see if they were broken or not.
Harry smiled and began to pick himself up. His ribs were hammering his chest, his jaw throbbed, and practically every inch on his body ached, but that couldn't take away the satisfaction of beating Dudley. The only thing that could was Uncle Vernon who happened to walk in at the racket the impact of Dudley's fist on the dry wall had made. Harry's heart sunk into his stomach. Here it comes, he thought nervously.
"WHAT THE DEVIL—LOOK AT MY WALL! LOOK AT MY WALL!" Harry groaned under his breath and gave up trying to stand. "HAVEN'T YOU BROKEN ENOUGH THINGS FOR ONE DAY?" Uncle Vernon roared so mightily, the house shook. "D'YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THIS IS GOING TO COST TO REPAIR? I DON'T HINK YOU HAVE THE MONEY TO DO SO DO YOU?" Harry looked up at Uncle Vernon and shook his head apologetically.
"No I don't have the money," he mumbled gravely. Uncle Vernon began pulling at his hair and grunting inaudible words.
"He made me smash the wall Dad! He ducked when I was gonna deck him for smashing my stereo!" Dudley whined. "Look at it! That can't be fixed! It's a total wreck!"
"YOU BROKE HIS STEREO TOO? D'YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT COST? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU BOY? WHAT—AM—I—GOING—TO—DO?" He marched over to Harry and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He picked him up and flung him against the wall. Harry's head whip lashed into the caved in part of the wall and broke it in. He felt his head hit something cold and metallic. Wiggling himself free from Uncle Vernon's grip, Harry turned his head and saw that it was a small refrigerator buried in the wall. Uncle Vernon let go of Harry due to the utterly perplexing idea of a refrigerator in a wall.
"You are pathetic," Harry said shaking his head in disbelief. "You can't stuff your face enough so you buried a miniature 'fridge in my wall! That was pretty stupid Dud, how were you gonna get to it?" Harry noticed that Uncle Vernon wondered the same thing because he turned to face Dudley with his mouth hanging open.
"I. .I don't know what you—you're talking about!" Dudley stammered. "I wasn't born when this house was built. I couldn't have poss. .possibly buried a refrigerator in a wall."
"Everyone go home," Uncle Vernon ordered. Ecstasy filled the gang members' eyes, being able to escape trouble so easily. They grumbled goodbyes to Dudley as they ran past and out the front door. Harry turned back to the refrigerator and pulled open the door. Chunks of ice tumbled out as the door became ajar. The whole refrigerator was filled to the top with ice. Harry started to pull some of the chunks out to find anything else that could have been hidden. He removed one rather large chunk on the second rack and found a vial. The vial was closed with an opal stopper and came to a point at the end. Out of curiosity, Harry touched the point on the end of the vial. It pricked his finger and added to his bloody appearance.
Inside the vial was a brick-red substance that bubbled slightly as Harry turned it right side up again. He felt a papery label on the other side and slowly turned it so he could read it. His eyes read the words, but he reread them to make sure he was reading right. After the fifth time he read the label, his breath caught in his throat and he almost dropped the vial. He clutched it in his hand so hard that his bloody knuckles turned white and the glass almost exploded in his hand. The label read Lily's Blood.
"How twisted can you get?" Harry panted through gritted teeth. "Why would you do something like this? COULDN'T YOU LET HER REST IN PEACE?" he yelled at them, trembling with rage.
"What are you talking about?" Uncle Vernon asked sternly. Harry shuffled around and shoved the vial in his face.
"What is this all about?" he asked calmly, eyes darting from Uncle Vernon to Dudley. His lip quivered and he clenched and unclenched his injured jaw. "What kind of twisted people are you?"
"MUM!" Dudley yelled. "MUMMY! C'MERE! C'MERE QUICK! HARRY'S GONE MAD!" A few minutes later they heard Aunt Petunia dashing up the stairs. She ran into Harry's room and placed her arms around Dudley. She looked frantic and disturbed by Dudley's broken knuckles and the state Harry's room was in.
"What is it Duddsters? What is—?" Harry thrust the vial in her face also. She cowered away from it and shielded her eyes. "TAKE IT AWAY! GO AWAY!"
"Why is this here? Why would you do this to my mum?" he asked her, rage growing up from his stomach, burning his throat, and shimmering out his eyes. "Why did you steal her blood?" They all stared unblinkingly at Harry who grew so angry with them; he bit his lip to keep from destroying something else. A heartsick feeling washed over him. "Answer me!" he demanded.
Aunt Petunia looked at Uncle Vernon. Her mouth moved up and down trying to form words, but she was unsuccessful. She flopped down to the floor and started sobbing. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed big sobs, gulping down air before another set of tears flooded down her face. No one knelt down to comfort her.
"It was to protect us from Voldemort! We had to do it ever since you came here!" she sobbed, pounding the ground with her fist in a lugubrious way. "Dumbledore—Dumbledore said that home is where ever the mother's blood is!" Harry began pacing back and forth and grabbed his hair by the roots.
"You took it literally?" he screamed. "You're more stupid than he is!" Harry cried out, jerking a thumb in Dudley's direction.
"Dumbledore said—"
"What Dumbledore meant was that you had Lily's blood in you because you are her sister! That's why I had to go home to you each summer because you are blood related!" he scolded, running his fingers through his hair. Petunia looked up at Harry and began to shake her head, weeping dry weeps. She had no more tears to cry.
"We're not blood related. I was adopted!" Harry froze. He stopped in mid comb through his already matted hair. "I was adopted!" she sobbed.
"Adopted?" Uncle Vernon asked incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me you were adopted?"
"I didn't," she cried into her hands, "I didn't want anyone to find out about the blood!"
"Yeah. . .well you blew your cover you filth," Harry spat heading towards the door and tucking the vial in his robes pocket.
"Where do you think you're going?" Uncle Vernon asked. "You're not going anywhere until this is sorted out!"
"What's left to sort out Dursley?" Harry shouted. "I don't need you guys anymore! I have been lied to all my life by people I'm not even related too! You even fooled Dumbledore! I have my protection right here in my pocket! Where ever I go, she'll be there! I'm leaving and never coming back!" He narrowed his eyes at Aunt Petunia whose sobs had turned to sniffles. "YOU CALLED MY MUM A FREAK! WHO'S THE FREAK NOW?"
Harry slammed the door shut. He slammed it shut for the last time in his life. He went back to the glass of water he had poured before being sent upstairs and finished it in one gigantic gulp. The vial was cool against his leg. He pulled it out and brought it clutched in his fist to his forehead. He was disgusted at the thought that Aunt Petunia had drawn blood from his mother's dead body. Didn't she go through enough? his mind screamed at Petunia.
"Oh Mum," he sighed, "I'm sorry." A single tear fell onto the vial and plopped off from the tip of it and onto the linoleum counter. Why am I crying? I should be crying with joy. I don't have to live with the Dursleys anymore and I'll always have my mother's blood to protect me! Stop crying, he ordered himself. He kissed the cold, glass vial, grabbed his trunk, and set out the door. "Voldemort," Harry snarled heroically, "come and get me!"