Chapter 51 Defeat

Harry and Ginny rushed by foot toward the castle. They left their bags in the Entry Hall and ran to the hospital wing. There were hundreds still being treated there, and they later found a similar number in the goblin clinic, which had been magically expanded to accommodate the need. Harry went around to each one, apologizing for not finding the solution yet, and promising to spare no effort to do so. Where an unhexing that Harry knew would help, he performed it.

Everyone was in remarkably good spirits: to hear them this was nothing more serious than a seven-year-old discussing the loss of a baby tooth. After visiting everyone, he sat by Hermione's bed with Ginny and Ron, who was one of the few needing no more than an unhexing.

"The race is on," said Harry grimly.

"What race, mate?" asked Ron.

"Voldemort has seen this and called in the Death Eaters. He is even now threatening them most severely if they do not have their forces ready to attack before we have dispersed for the summer. He is not even allowing them to stand behind the curtain. Instead they are keeping their eyes closed so he cannot accidentally reveal their preparations to me. He knows that giants and dementors take some effort to move distances and they require great effort to manage, but he is leaving his people no doubt as to how severe the punishment will be if they do not trap all of us here. And my part of the race is to find a solution that will allow us to work together before they're ready to attack."

"I'll help any way I can, Harry," said Hermione.

"I appreciate that, Hermione, and normally there's no one I'd want in a library more than you. But I'm afraid that the part of the curse that clouds your mind to the extent of the problem will also make you unable to recognize the solution. I can't take that chance. The help I do want from you and Ron – and, of course, you, Ginny - is to be with me when I search Voldemort's knowledge. I have avoided doing that extensively because there is so much that is repugnant there, but he knows things that aren't in the library even, and he may know the solution, even if he doesn't realize it. I need my friends with me when I delve into something that foul. I need those I care most about to help draw me back into my own mind."

Ron reached over and rubbed Harry's shoulder. "We'll be there for you, mate."

The sessions searching through Voldemort's mind were grueling. No mind is a perfectly organized filing system, but a hate-filled mind is more twisted than most. On the way to searching out some bit of magic or lore, Harry would find connections to various incidents. He found the occasions where his parents had defied Voldemort: he thought they must be the bravest people he had ever known of. Then he found the same for the Longbottoms and several others, and realized that there were others just as remarkably brave – or perhaps it was on occasion desperation.

He found Moaning Myrtle's death as well as those of literally hundreds, perhaps thousands as he lost count, of others. In addition to murders, there were untold numbers of tortures, inflicting such excruciating agony that the victims were left contorting like a spider tossed into flames. He didn't just find the murders and tortures as one finds war casualties catalogued in a book: Harry experienced them, with all the sadistic glee Voldemort experienced in exercising such power over others' lives and deaths.

He found Peter Pettigrew betraying the Order and specifically Harry's parents and he could not pull himself back as he watched through Voldemort's eyes as first his father fought and died, then his mother begged for Harry's life and was killed as she threw herself in front of the crib, and then he saw the attempt to kill baby Harry; he felt the excruciating pain Voldemort had felt in being ripped from his body and the immense powerlessness of the years without a body.

These and thousands of other experiences Harry forced himself to live through in the hope that he might find a solution. It was not at all unusual to find Harry in the Gryffindor common room shaking like a leaf, with a distant haunted look in his eyes, on a few occasions even crying quietly, as he recovered from reliving Voldemort's horrid, ghastly life, sometimes with his head cradled on a dear friend's shoulder or lap, sometimes just staring into the fire or out the window, sometimes laying his head on the table as friends took turns rubbing his back and reassuring him.

Harry was implacable in his search. He began missing classes and meals and even quidditch practice. He would have given up the morning run and workouts, but Ginny made him go for exercise, reminding him that they helped to keep his mind sharp. She also made sure that he ate, and when he missed meals in the Great Hall, she brought him food. Sometimes, she even sneaked the food into the library, and both Harry and Ginny suspected that Madam Pince was aware of the contraband but turned a blind eye.

Harry would have missed the final quidditch game of the year, but he was waylaid by the team and Hermione and physically forced to the pitch. As soon as the whistle blew, he searched frantically for the snitch. He ignored all of Malfoy's taunting. Within fifteen minutes he had found the snitch and grabbed it, securing the House Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor. He didn't even land, but handed the snitch to Ron, said "Congratulations, Captain," flew to Ginny for a hug and a kiss, and set off for the castle on his broom.

He would have even skipped NEWTS, but Professor McGonagall intervened to get him to each of the sessions. He was even required to retake his Defense against the Dark Arts NEWT, even though he had already taken it and passed two years earlier. It took longer than ever as the examiner tried to find something Harry didn't know or couldn't do. Finally Harry deliberately missed a trivial question about billywigs just so he could get back to the library.

On June 19, all the NEWTs and OWLs were over. The next day was scheduled for the last exams for the other years. The Final Feast was to be on Saturday. The night of the nineteenth Harry's sleep was highly disturbed. Once again he had the dream which had perplexed him all year. He had images of Voldemort directing hundreds of followers to fan out first over Britain and then the world, exterminating all resistance. Then his dream wandered to the basilisk they had bred as a weapon. Again there was the image of him and his friends in their Hogwarts' robes riding basilisks the size of the one he had killed in the Chamber of Secrets, as if they were so many fremen riding sandworms in Dune. They led their basilisks against Voldemort's forces and petrified them all. Harry and his friends laughed and celebrated over the destruction of Voldemort's forces. Then the tails of the basilisks whipped around and shattered the petrified bodies into tiny shards which scattered across the land. From each shard grew a new Death Eater, just like the soldiers arising from dragon teeth in Greek mythology. No matter how many times they tried to destroy the Death Eaters, more and more arose from the battlefield. And through it all the Dark Mark became larger and brighter in the sky. Harry tossed and turned in his sleep all night, alternately elated at the destruction and horrified at the resurrection of Voldemort and his followers. Harry knew something was missing, that somehow he had failed. His mind turned to the curse and realized that with whatever skills or weapons they had, he had failed, he just wasn't good enough to solve what needed to be solved. He had let his friends down, and the Death Eaters could not be ultimately put down, because he – Harry – was unworthy of the task.

Harry was awakened by the other boys of his dorm room, joyfully rising for their early morning run. They had a whole day at Hogwarts to enjoy, as they had completed all their studies and tests. They were ebullient, and they pulled Harry along with them, even though his instincts told him he ought to return to the library. After the run, Ginny dragged Harry to breakfast and made him take at least a sausage and some porridge. His mood was actually starting to brighten as he realized that it looked like the Death Eaters had failed to assemble for the attack.

Suddenly Harry went extremely tense and held his scar. He stood up and used his wand to make several small explosions to quiet the Hall.

"I am so sorry," he announced, "I have failed to solve the curse, and now the attack is on. The Death Eaters have just reported to Voldemort that they are ready to apparate to positions and launch the attack on Hogwarts. Those of you who can apparate away, I would recommend it. The Floo network may still be usable, but they may have boobytrapped it – be careful. As for me, I will fight even if I am the last person here left standing."

Hermione stood and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Are you certain of this, Harry?"

"Absolutely – they would not lie to him."

"Where are they assembling? How are they attacking?"

"Why do you ask? The curse will have you fighting yourselves rather than defending!"

"Just tell us – we'll do what we can!"

"The giants have been hidden in the great ravine on the north end of the lake – they are coming around through the forest to attack from the north. The dark sorcerers are apparating to join with the dementors hidden at the south end of the lake and are coming through the forest on that side to attack."

The entire Hall erupted first into a cacophonous panic, then arguments, and finally outright fighting. Tables were overturned, teachers screamed for students to return to their dorms, and tapestries were torn. Harry buried his face in his hands.

The last thing Harry heard was Ron's voice shouting above the din: "STUPEFY!" Harry felt sudden pain and his body wrenched, and everything went blank.