By DxDevlin
Disclaimer: This fanfic is fully credited to JK Rowling and her fabulous Harry Potter books.
Summary: Voldemort, desperate to recruit Death Eaters and kill Harry Potter, develops a wicked plan that involves a potent potion, an unsuspecting group of students, and the Imperious Curse on a certain person Harry thinks is dead.
A/N: If this is cheesy, SORRY!
Chapter 2:
Promise Me
Night quickly interchanged with day as the glowing sun set beneath the mountains. The always plump and cheerful Mrs. Weasley smiled wearily as she threw open the door of her home to reveal six rumpled people standing in the doorway. After letting out an "ahhhh" and a "come in," she watched as they entered the house and then frowned when she fixed her eyes on a particular dark-haired boy who looked sullen and gloomy.
"Harry, dear," said Mrs. Weasley to the boy sympathetically. "Make yourself at home, as always. My, you've grown over the summer. A haircut should be good for you; you haven't gotten one in a while, have you? Starting to grow like Bill's…"
"Mum, that's enough!" whispered Mrs. Weasley's son, Ron, who was rolling his eyes. "Harry just got here. You don't need to start fussing already!"
Not showing the least bit of dejection, Mrs. Weasley gave a quick smile, patted Harry's shoulder, and muttered an "off you go."
"C'mon, Harry. Let's go up to my room," beckoned Ron eagerly. Their friend, Hermione, followed them as they jogged up the stairs. Harry had not yet spoken more than a few words, which more than caught the attention of both his friends. They knew Harry was depressed. They knew coming back to the Burrow was just another reminder that a new year at Hogwarts was near. Normally, this would have brought excitement and frenzy, but for Harry Potter, it was another year where his life might be in danger, another year where he might face his one nemesis.
"He's happy."
Ron and Hermione both whirled around in the direction that the voice had come from. Harry, now sitting on Ron's bed, was stroking his scar.
"V-Voldemort, you mean?" asked Hermione, still somewhat afraid to use the name.
"Yeah," was all Harry said. But after a pause during which his friends were pondering what they should say, he continued. "I think he has hope. Blimey, I think…he's found something that could help him…"
"Do what?" whispered Ron.
"I dunno," Harry murmured as he snapped out of his trance and slid off the bed. "Anyway, how were your summers?"
Ron glanced in Hermione's direction nervously, as if to ask her whether they should play along with his "casualness" or talk to him about the events from the previous year. Hermione sighed with raised eyebrows.
"Harry," she coaxed. "We know what you're going through and – "
"Do you?" Harry asked. "You don't know what it's like for me to – to have someone that is like a parent die because of me…"
"It's not your fault," stressed Ron. "You-Know-Who played with your mind; he made you believe Sirius was hurt! It's happened before, so naturally you raced to save Sirius. Anyone would have done the same thing, Harry, even Dumbledore, even…"
"Yeah? Well if I hadn't rushed off like a fool because of some bloody dream – " Harry's throat choked as he forced the words through.
"You know you would've no matter what! You would never just sit there and let Sirius be tortured!" shouted Ron. "Just accept the fact that it wasn't your fault! Sirius died trying to save us! Trying to protect the rest of the world from You-Know-Who! Just accept that, Harry. Please. We're worried sick about you."
Harry now sniffed aloud with his head buried in his arms. Hermione walked slowly toward him, taking a hold of his hand.
"Harry," she said. "You know what that prophecy said. One of you will die. I know I'm being harsh, but you can't sit there moping all day long. Sirius died for you. That's how much he and everyone with him loved and cared about you. He doesn't want you to be suffering because of him. He's already so proud of what you've done, but it would make his heart sing if you defeated Voldemort. Please, we're begging you, don't give up. Cheer up, first of all. I know you want to be stubborn and you want to act like you don't care, but you have to. Only you can save us."
"Oh, hell!" yelled Harry as he suddenly lifted his head up, nearly knocking Hermione backwards. "The thing that was supposed to help Voldemort doing something, he's found it and he's really happy. God, this can't be good. I feel his evilness. He's cooked up something now."
The three were silent for what seemed an eternity when Mrs. Weasley, to everyone's relief, broke the tension by calling out "Dinner!" Before Harry reached the stairs, Hermione stopped him.
"Tell me if this is going to be ok," she whispered. "Because our lives are depending on you. This next year, it's going to be hell, but you have to be willing to fight. You've been through so much and true, we don't know what it's like, but just let me know if you're going to fight."
Harry's emerald green eyes closed for a moment as he absorbed these words. Gradually, he looked up into Hermione's eyes and saw that there was true desperation in them.
"I will," he answered.
"Promise me," Hermione pleaded.
"I promise." Harry turned away.
Fred, leaning on the railing, saw in Harry's eyes that this was not the time to kid around. He called them down to dinner but not before showing Harry another gadget from the twins' successful joke shop. For the first time in a long time, Harry laughed aloud.
"Funny, isn't it?" Fred laughed as well, but putting a serious face on, he whispered, "I heard what you two were talking about. I know I joke around all the time, but I'm worried about You-Know-Who. So is George. You've been amazing so far; I'm rooting for you all the way. Kill that git, will ya? He's scared stiff of you, nearly blasting him away and all!"
Harry laughed again. "You always see a bright side, don't you? Yeah, I guess, I guess it's either me or him, huh? And we've got Dumbledore, we've got the whole world, yeah, yeah!"
The two raced down the stairs and sat down at a long, wooden table where the rest of the Weasley family and Hermione were waiting. Mr. Weasley smiled at Harry and gestured him to sit down.
"We have adopted a new custom, Harry," Mr. Weasley explained. "At every meal, we join hands and have a sort of…er, moment of silence. Think about the past, present, and future. Feel connected with everyone sitting at this table and everyone who is not. Reflect." He clasped hands with George and Mrs. Weasley, bowed his head, and closed his eyes.
Harry glanced around and watched the closed eyes of everyone before following suit. At first, he could only ponder what he should reflect on. Sirius. Voldemort. The veil. His scar. His thoughts jumped back and forth between everything that had happened to him since the fateful day his parents had been murdered. The Dursleys. Dudley's bullying. Suddenly, with his eyes still closed, he saw a cracked mirror and in the reflection he saw the enemy.
Who looked back with bloodshot eyes.
………………………………..
[-------End of Chapter 2-------]
It will get more exciting. I'm just building up the suspense, ok?
Review pretty please?
:8-) T/ dXdEvLiN /diZZle