August 25, 2003
Disclaimer: I, TiniTinuviel, am in no way associated with Ms. J.K Rowling, Scholastic Books, or Warner Bros. Harry Potter and all of it's characters, etc. belong, in turn, to all of the aforementioned parties and their subsidiaries. I claim nothing save for the particular plot of this piece of fan fiction and selected characters.
*Authors Note: Hi all! Whoo hoo! I got this one out faster than the others! And it's all because of you guys! (And especially for you, Tayce!) You do not know how happy I was when I was reading the reviews for Chapter 3! I think I got as many for just that chapter as I had total before I posted it! (If that makes any sense…) Anywhoo! I don't really have anything to say before we start, other than I hope you enjoy it, and review reviews are at the bottom! So without any further ado, I give you Chapter Four of Tell it to My Face!
~*~
Harry woke up in the very early hours of the morning, feeling hazy and horrible. He kept his eyes closed, unsure of where he was. It didn't feel like his bed, any of them for that matter. His bed at the Dursley's was too small and lumpy with springs that continuously poked him in the spine. His bed at 12 Grimmauld Place was the perfect combination of soft and firm, but his room there still smelled a bit musty and this place was definitely clean. It couldn't have been his bed at Hogwarts; that bed was his favorite. High from the floor and you sunk right into it, the four posters towering above you and the constant reminder from the snores around the room that you were surrounded by friends. This bed had none of those qualities. It was comfortable, yes, but still felt a bit stiff, as if it wasn't being used for long periods of time.
He could hear people speaking from a distance, but he couldn't make anything out; his ears were still cloudy. Something was making his hands throb and deep down he daren't move; something told him it wouldn't feel very good. And when something cool touched his arm, he started and instinctively tried to move away.
"Oh, Harry!" a woman's voice said, "You startled me! I didn't think you were awake…"
Where had he heard that voice from? It wasn't one of those clearly recognizable voices like Mrs. Weasley's, and it wasn't young like Hermione. In fact, looking up, this woman looked nothing like either of them. She seemed as if she'd be taller than him when standing and she had dark brown hair with eyes to match. A kind face and a fair complexion, with her eyebrows currently knitted as she continued to speak. She had a beautifully plain appearance and reached to his forehead with one of her soft hands, sitting lightly on the edge of his bed.
"…and it seems as if your fever is coming down. We were a bit nervous about that. Are you hungry?" she asked spontaneously, totally throwing Harry into almost a state of shock.
"Sorry?" he croaked.
"Oh, that's good. How's your throat feeling?" she continued.
"Where am I?" he managed to rasp out, suddenly understanding the throat question. He could hear beeps now, location of origin unknown, and he couldn't see much beyond the woman that remained at his side; he wished he knew where his glasses were.
"You're in the hospital, love. St. Mungo's, in London. Your glasses are right here on the table if you want them," but she made no move to give them to him. "You gave us quite a fright last night. Do you remember what happened?" He thought as hard as his tired mind would, but not much was coming to him. He went to shake his head no, but stopped when he felt a sharp pain run through his spine. "Oh, yes, don't do that," she quickly stated, "It'd be better to talk if you can; you haven't finished healing yet. I don't think I've seen that much Dark Magic on one person before…"
Dark Magic.
Dark.
It was black inside the room. The only light came from a fireplace in the far wall that was blocked from his view. He looked up from where he lay heaped on the floor to stare into a white mask.
"Harry?" He snapped back into the present, more awake now that he had something to tell. This couldn't be good. He couldn't remember very much, but that image alone convinced him that something was seriously wrong.
"Sorry?" he croaked again.
"I asked how you were feeling. Do you have a headache? Does anything hurt?"
"What time is it?" he asked instead, feeling a strong urge to talk to somebody he knew.
"It's about 3:30 in the morning, why?"
He sighed. Everybody would be sleeping right now.
"Harry?"
"I'm tired," he admitted quietly, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep himself.
"Well there's no wonder why," she said to herself. "I just came in to check you over real quick and then I'll be out of your way."
He nodded soundlessly, wondering to himself what this inspection was going to entail and who he should tell about the flash of memory that resounded in his head.
"Your professor and your godfather were here earlier," she started as she peeled back his bandages slowly, peering at the wounds beneath. Checking on his scar, she noticed it had scabbed well. They had been unsure if they should heal it entirely or leave it be; they had decided on the latter, hoping it was the better choice. "Do you remember talking to them?"
He didn't, but abruptly felt ashamed. He cheeks flushed a deep scarlet and his chest burned with feeling.
"What is it?" she inquired quickly, not missing his change in demeanor or color. He didn't answer. "They were fine, just concerned." He flushed an even deeper red. Now she understood. "Harry, it's not your fault; you've done nothing wrong." but he wasn't listening. "Harry, all they wanted to do was protect you. It's their job. They wouldn't have stood outside your door for over three hours if they didn't seriously care about you. And they wouldn't be much of a family either."
'Maybe,' he thought distantly, but felt more than anything else that they shouldn't have to chase him around and protect him. 'They should be able to live normal lives; I'm only making things worse for them. If only Voldemort had succeeded then they wouldn't have to worry anymore.' But these thoughts didn't feel right for more reasons than one and that random memory told him something really bad had happened to him. He had a feeling that he needed to talk to somebody, somebody specific and important, but couldn't recall who or why. He closed his eyes with thought as she continued to check him over.
Gladly, she noted that his neck wound had also scabbed entirely, although it was wide and horrible looking. They would finish healing that later in the day. No scar would show from that particular injury. The green tinge in his cheek was fading and she touched it lightly; he flinched in return. She quietly cast a spell on it, taking most of its tenderness away in an instant.
"Is that better?" she asked.
"Mmm hmm," he replied with his eyes still closed, still feeling the sting she had inflicted.
Unconvinced, but knowing the pain wouldn't last, she pulled down his blankets and lifted his shirt up, exposing his back. He shivered with the cool blast of air that struck him as she used her eyes and her fingers to guide her along his spine. It was littered with scratches and yellow discoloration. Large, scabbed gashes ran from side to side, purpled on the edges and uneven. It was a spell she'd seen before and one she wanted outlawed. A whipping curse, and apparently it had been applied by someone with a great amount of power. It had caused so much damage, yet his capture had kept him alive. It was a very strange occurrence. Why would they do that?
She shook her head to clear her thoughts and moved to lift his shirt to look at his chest. Her cool fingers searched along again, chilling and making him feel rather uncomfortable.
"My name is Eleanor," she said suddenly, seeing his discomfort at having a strange women feeling his chest. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself when you first woke up. How rude of me," she berated herself.
"It's okay," he replied. "Um, how old are you?" he asked, trying to keep her talking so he could distract himself.
"Well who wants to know?" she teased with a smile, lowering his shirt again after checking a scrap on his hip. "I'm 36. I suppose I'm freaking you out with all of my poking and prodding. Do you want me to keep talking?" and a thankful nod confirmed her suspicions. She nodded with understanding, continuing her inspection. "I've been a nurse for twelve years, even though they like us to refer to ourselves as 'Healer Assistants.' A ridiculous title if you ask me," she continued with a nonchalant air as she looked over his arms. "It's such a mouthful and 'Nurse' sounds more dignified anyway," she finished with a smile and a wink. He smiled in turn. "Your other nurses are Kyren and Larna. Do you remember them?"
"I don't think so," he said cautiously as she stripped him entirely of his covers, raising the legs of his hospital trousers.
"Well that's alright. They'll be in later to check on you. I'm sure you'll meet them in no time. Your knees look much better now, by the way. How do they feel?"
"Good, I suppose," he answered, testing them out, swallowing hard and closing his eyes again.
"That's good. Inspection passed this time around, sir," she said, glancing at his forearm guard and covering him back up. "Do you have a headache?" she asked again.
"Yeah," he said slowly, bringing a hand to his face.
"Here," she said quietly, reaching for the water-like potion and placing the straw against his lips. "Drink this; it will make some of the pain go away, headaches included."
"Good," he replied sipping it slowly, being careful not to spit it back out. Now that he was a bit more conscious, he realized it tasted like something unpleasantly familiar, but he couldn't place it.
"Now just try and get some rest. Wounds heal better when backed by sleep. Is there anything I can get for you before I go?" she asked.
He shook his head no, having had his fill of the potion, but then stopped.
"I think I need to talk to somebody," he said, unsure of how it sounded.
"Anybody in particular?" she inquired.
"I don't know…" She could see how troubled he looked and his uncertainty that lay beneath it, so she made his decision for him:
"Well, just get some sleep and maybe you'll remember when you wake up."
"Okay," he replied, and she stood up to go. After dimming the lights and closing the door, he slowly fell into what he thought would be another bout of dreamless rest.
~*~
It took Sirius a good hour once he and Remus got home before he could bring himself to get cleaned up. Remus had sat with him in the living room when they arrived but he had left some time ago. When exactly, or where to, he wasn't sure. He slowly rose from his somber seat, almost mechanically walking through the archway, glimpsing Remus sitting at the kitchen table reading papers, resting his head on one of his hands, before he headed up the stairs on his left.
'Up the stairs. Turn right. First door on the right,' he told himself as he went. Without looking up, he made the few steps to the sink, refusing to look himself in the eye in the mirror. He knew it would unleash more of the tears that he held back and he couldn't do it. He had to be strong.
Looking down, he decided to start with his hands. Picking up the soap that lay untainted on the rim of the sink, he scrubbed at his godson's blood that stained his knuckles, his palms, his fingers and the backs of his hands. It wasn't coming off. The harder he scrubbed, the more he scratched at it with his fingernails, the more there seemed to be. It refused to come off. He scoured his hands with all his might, desperately trying to hold back his sobs, yet the innocence of Harry's life refused to allow his hands to return to their natural color. It was almost as if they were scorning him.
"If only you had gotten there sooner none of this would have happened!"
"Good job, Sirius. You could've killed the last of the Potters tonight!"
"What would James and Lily have said?"
"He was counting on you to protect him and you blew it!"
The bar of soap slipped from his grasp and splashed into the sink full of water and he braced himself as a fresh wave of tears overcame him and he sank to his knees, sobbing into his blood stained hands.
"I d-didn't mean to… I got there as… s-s-soon as I could… I'd never let anything h-happen to him… I l-love him… I'm sorry…" he let out in broken gasps to the wind.
Suddenly he felt an arm drop around his shoulders. Remus had heard him from downstairs where he was hiding his own misery amidst his students' homework and he now wrapped his arms around his old friend, embracing him as only a brother can and together they cried on the white tile floor, salty tears being absorbed and dispersed into the shoulders of each others robes until they held no more tears to cry.
And after what seemed like ages, the two men began to regain their composure and they uncertainly released each other, drifting apart to lean on opposite sides of the bathroom, embarrassed by the feelings they let show. When they finally got the courage to look each other in the eyes, they laughed. Their faces were red, eyes puffy, they looked like bright pink bunnies; they couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry," Sirius whispered somberly when the laughter had ceased as Remus easily flicked a scourging charm towards his hands.
"For what? What are you talking about?" Remus prompted through a sniffle, a wipe of his eye, and a small remnant of a smile.
"For acting like this; for crying all the time," he sighed, gazing at his unjustly spotless hands. "I know I'm supposed to be strong…"
"Sirius stop," Remus cut in. "We're all worried about Harry. There is nothing wrong with the way that you're acting. So many people cry, Sirius-"
"You don't-"
"Where have you been for the last twenty minutes?" he cut in incredulously. "Were we not both sitting here crying? I mean look at us! Two grown men, Marauders nonetheless, sitting in corners on a bathroom floor both crying!" he said through a ragged breath with a smile. "If only James could see us now, huh? 'Look at you two little pussies, the original prankster and the werewolf, crying like babies with stubbed toes!'" he said in his best James impression and Sirius laughed into his chest, his back rubbing against the rill of the bathtub, but Remus grew serious again. "Honestly, James was the bravest person I've ever known next to you, and he would have cried if he'd seen his son like we have. We all would have sat in here and cried, you and me and James and Lily. We wouldn't have gone down and sat on the couch to do it, oh no! We'd have sat up here in the bathroom because we wouldn't be bright enough to do it somewhere more comfortable or appropriate!" he added, just for the satisfaction of hearing Sirius laugh one more time.
"Do you think the Weasleys have been dry-eyed all this time?" he continued. "Harry's like a son to them too, just like he is to us! Probably more so since they've known him longer. And Ron and Hermione? They almost lost their best friend again tonight! Again! How often does this happen to them? They don't deserve it any more than he does! You can't blame yourself for this happening… no one can."
"I could have been there with him. I could have protected him!"
"Sirius, no one could have stopped those Death Eaters on the platform even if we had known about it. No one could have predicted it; no one could have prevented it. You couldn't expect three people to stop them and I'm sorry Sirius but even if you were there it probably wouldn't have done any good. You couldn't expect that they'd be after him, not after all of the recent attacks."
"But I could have protected him!"
"But you could have died!"
"Harry could have died!" he shouted, which was much louder than he had intended. Subconsciously his fingers were in his hair, pulling at it and he rocked himself the bathroom floor, tears threatening to rain onto his already soiled clothes. 'Where are they all coming from?' he thought. 'I have nothing left to give!'
Remus fell silent. There was nothing to say. Sirius was right. Harry could have died. 'He still could,' his conscience told him, 'just because he's in the hospital doesn't mean that he's perfectly well again.' And the tired professor sat silently against the door frame; the wind making the old house moan was the only sound.
'Was there more we could have done? Could we have known they would be after him? Well of course we knew they were after him, but we didn't know when or where… We did what we could and we did a good job of it,' he told himself and spoke out to Sirius to confirm his own feelings.
"No one saw it coming, Sirius. There was nothing we could do but chase after him and hope to find him before it was too late. And we did that. You did that."
And deep down, while neither wanted to believe they had done everything in their power, bits of what had been said and unsaid hit home with both men and Sirius nodded, sniffing against the back of his hand and wiping his eyes with his shirtsleeve.
Remus checked his watch, sighed, and turned to his long time companion. "Are you going to be okay? I have to get to Hogwarts before classes start. They'll need their Defense teacher and Lord knows they've had enough. If I don't show up on time it might cause a panic," he added with a grin.
"Yeah," Sirius replied with a smile as they both stood up from the corners they had fallen to.
"Just let me know if anything happens, alright?"
"You'll be the first to know," he replied as he walked his friend to his room so he could change clothes. But something starting gnawing at him as he sat in the hallway and continued to bother him as they trudged down the stairs minutes later to the front door. It had been bothering him for awhile now. "No one saw it coming…" It just didn't seem right. If Voldemort was out to kill Harry, wouldn't Snape have known? 'No, if he knew he'd have told us a long time ago,' the man thought. 'He may not like us, but he would have told us about something like this. 'There's something missing. Something's not right about this.' But after a moments pondering and a good-bye to his old friend, he forced the thoughts aside and went to work at wiping Harry's dried blood off of his face and out of his hair. The task proved easier than his hands, most likely due to the fact that much of the stress he had been feeling had been released in the last hour. Plus, he had a feeling that Remus had cast another cleaning charm at him so that it would come off easier.
He went to his room and changed his stained clothes feeling more drained than he had ever felt in his life and slowly, he crawled into bed where he tried to fall asleep to the crackling of a warm, winter fire.
But that horrible thought. "No one could have predicted it. No one could have prevented it." Still it lingered and refused to give him rest.
~*~
No more than an hour had passed after Harry had fallen asleep in his bed than the visions began.
Harry found himself in a room he'd seen before; the tall chair in the center, the fireplace on one wall and the snake that slithered around the room, unchecked by anyone. But this time, it wasn't a quiet malevolence that filled the room, but an overpowering force that washed over him from where he watched the scene before him in a quiet corner of the room, unseen by any.
"How could they have found us?! That location was secure! And how can I trust you to help me take down that blasted fortress if I can't even trust you to be a lookout for the Aurors?! PATHETIC!" Voldemort roared at two of his followers, their faces unseen, shadowed by their hoods and the fireplace behind them.
"We're sorry, Master. We beg your forgiveness…" they said pitifully. And their shadows flickered and shuddered against the opposing wall.
"Of all of the followers that I've lost in fourteen years I don't see how you two bumbling idiots managed to escape Azkaban, or to survive at all! LUCIUS!" he bellowed to the door, his voice still cold and full of malice.
"Yes, Master?" a voice said as the door clicked open.
"Take these two downstairs. Get them out of my sight."
"NO!!" the men cried. "Please, Master! We're sorry! It won't happen again! We swear!" but already Lucius was dragging them out the door, physically and magically, as they kicked and screamed down the stairs of the old house. "NO!!"
But Voldemort shut out their pathetic cries and began stalking his room.
"Idiotic little rodents," he cursed under his breath, twirling his wand in his fingers, rather like a baton. "They can't do anything right! I should just kill them and be done with it! Arg! I could have HAD the Potter boy tonight, dead within arms reach instead of having to sit around and wait for the morning Prophet's headline but NO! Those two morons had to screw everything up!" and he ruthlessly stabbed his wand towards the ground and instantly there was a flash of icy blue light and the blood-curdling screams of the two men rose through the floorboards to Voldemort's expecting ears.
He continued his rant, pacing his circle, Nagini watching on expectantly. He never failed to add an occasional jab of his wand to the floor, always emitting the most horrible, painful screams that ever reached Harry's ears. But in the midst of his favorite pacifying exercise, he stopped.
A new figured had mysteriously and soundlessly appeared in the room and wasted no time in approaching the Dark Lord. He was shroud in mystery; his clothing was unrecognizable and his face remained hidden. He stopped only when their faces were inches from each others, neither backing down, not until a voice shattered the electrified silence.
"He is not dead."
"That's impossible. There is physically no way that he could have survived," Voldemort passed off with ease, pacing calmly away from the newcomer.
"Yes, well, he's managed it," the deep voice said, full of hostility and controlled anger, turning to follow him with his words. "Now what do you have to say for yourself? And don't even try to blame this on your idiotic little followers; you should have them within your power by now."
Voldemort turned back to him. "Well how about the fact that you arrived twenty minutes early?" he hissed with just as much venom.
"You're point being?"
"I had twenty minutes to do with him what I pleased!" he argued.
"And what were you trying to do? Let him catch hypothermia before you killed him?" the voice asked incredulously, sitting in the chair before the fire.
"I was trying to make him scared! I wanted to hear the little rat beg for mercy like his parents did before I killed them!"
"You and your need for revenge!" he spat. "You can scare that child all you want but he will never beg for your mercy. He's too headstrong for an action like that."
"He will beg my mercy by the time this war is out!"
"He will be dead by the time this war is out!" he raged, "He should have been dead hours ago but because of your stupidity he has escaped your grasp again! I tire of that boy slipping through your fingers! Just kill the little rodent and be done with it! You can touch him now so just do it!" he shouted, not holding back the obvious force of his power.
"But now that I have the ability to touch him, that his mother's blood flows through my veins as well, I think I'd like to have a bit more fun with him," his snake-like voice slithered forth.
"Fun? When we made this arrangement we agreed that I would have the final say in all matters, and this is my final word: You. Will. Kill. Him. The. Next. Time. He. Is. Handed. To. You."
"No."
He was taken aback. "Excuse me?" 'How dare he assume to defy me?'
"No. I've got the power now and there is nothing you can do to stop me."
"That's what you think. I gave you your power and I have the ability to take it all back. You weren't the one to find the potion that brought you back to life and you must know that there is a counter potion for it. Don't think that I won't use it against you."
"Ha! I doubt that. And even if a counter existed, you wouldn't dare use it," he stated arrogantly, but the beginnings of his nerves were starting to show.
"I would, and I will." There was no jest in the mysterious voice. It was solid and hard.
He laughed mirthlessly. "You need me too much to do something as foolhardy as that."
"Foolhardy? Such strong words from an insolent little snake. Tell me, do you try hard to defy me or are you just unwise enough to not hold your tongue? Especially when I hold your undoing in the pocket of my robes?"
The Dark Lord stopped. Usually he never held for idle threats, but this stranger was a different matter entirely. While true, the Dark Lord never knew his identity, this stranger had been key in his uprising. But this stranger was also very smart. He was always on top of things; he was a most helpful backer and spy. Lord Voldemort didn't doubt that this stranger could be posing as one of his very own followers, watching to be certain that his investment of time, information and aid wasn't going to waste. After a pause of thought, the Dark Lord stopped, stooping to one knee and bending low in a bow of respect and recognition.
The stranger stood and began to circle him. "You have caused more problems for me than you've been worth, Lord Voldemort," he said with a sneer, "and now that you've told him that you can navigate perfectly through Hogwarts we have another problem on our hands. We'll never be able to secure the hidden passageways once that blasted headmaster is told."
'That was it!'
The voice fell silent for awhile, taking up Voldemort's pacing as the once formidable Dark Lord stayed kneeling on the hardwood floor, visibly shaken, but his anger was still as evident as ever.
"But I'll give you one more chance, Riddle," the voice said after a long, weighted pause. "Just one. If you can't rid me of that mindless little pain in the ass the next time I help you out, then I will be forced to rid myself of you."
And with a snap of his fingers and a flinch from the now checked Dark Lord, the mysterious voice was gone.
As the Dark Lord roared in anger Harry was forced awake, cold sweat dripping from his face, his pillows damp.
"Harry? Harry what is it?" Eleanor asked, striding quickly into his room where he was sitting up in bed.
"Dumbledore," he gasped, "I need to speak to Professor Dumbledore."
~*~
So whatcha think? I'm sorry if some of it was choppy. I really wanted to get this out before school starts ~ahem~ today. So if something about it was absolutely wretched, let me know so I can fix it! Lol!
Review Reviews!
NightSpear: Whoo hoo!! You still like it! (You don't know how excited it makes me to know people like this! Lol!) I'm glad that my descriptions were groovey and I'm sorry about all my fragments. I'm probably driving you nuts by now! I don't really know about Harry having a girlfriend. It was just something I thought Wood would do, grab a spare ticket for the youngest and joke about it… so I put it in. (Or maybe I just wanted to hear him say the word "Snogging." Hmm…) And "Awesomely" is now officially a word in my book… right there next to "Groovitudiness!" A word all my own! :D
Sylphide: All right! Another new reader! Yay! I'm sorry I confused you, but I hope that this chapter cleared up the Evil Dumbledore thought! Glad you like it and I hope to see you again!
Tayce: This totally got out faster because of you! *gives you BIG, HUGE hug!* I totally know the 'checking the fanfic every day to see if it's updated thing' but I didn't really think anybody cared about this one that much so that's part of why I was going slow! But now I have INSPIRATION!! It is you! Lol! And I'm sooo glad that I haven't lost you with my circular writing style! (You're the only one that replied to that, by the way!) I don't know when the next chapter will be up since school starts tomorrow (well, now it's today), but if you want me to e-mail you when I update, just drop me a line at amimegan@sailormoon.com.
ParanoiaIn2005: Thanks! It's good to hear that you think I've written emotions well! (I have been worried about it at times!) And you're a lucky one! Getting a new chapter this early! Glad to have you reading!
And of course!
USAGICHAN!! Yes, this was a chapter you have already read, but it had a LOT more detail and new additions to it! (Your old memory hasn't failed you yet! *wink*) And same with this one! Lots of new stuff! But I don't know if I'm going to continue with the stuff you've already seen… this fic is sort of coming alive, in a sense, and straying from the original thoughts! Wha oh! Lol! So, we'll have to see if things stay the same or not! And I was so psyched for more of "The One!" Keep those coming too!
And for everyone else out there in fandom: Thanks again for reading! We're all out looking for stories that entertain us, or move us, or just flat out give us something to do, and I'm glad that this one may have helped to fulfill that need! Drop me a line if the inspiration should strike you, and hopefully there will be more story soon!
With love forever and always,
~TiniTinuviel :D