CHAPTER 18 – THE DARK LORD

The journey that morning was rather quiet, which was to be expected after what had happened at breakfast. The quartet walked in silence, trudging through the forest. There were sidelong glances between them but the only time anyone spoke was to give a warning about something in their path, or for Harry to give directions.

He felt really bad about what he did to Hermione that morning, though he was sure they had finally gotten the point of what he'd been saying for months. He spent most of his thoughts on a way to apologize without detracting from that point but his mind drew a blank.

Noticing the glances among his friends he decided that lunch would be a good time to bring up the topic. He was going to stop them early for lunch since nobody ate breakfast that morning.

The day before they had run through the last of Tom's provisions and he sent Hermione and Ginny into a muggle grocery store for supplies. Harry decided that Hermione could handle all the transactions and it would be safer if they stayed in pairs. Ron wanted to go but Harry assured him that since he and Ron could eat basically anything deemed edible that the girls should be the ones to pick out the food. Ron had to concede the point and, while the girls were buying food, he wondered aloud what type of food they would bring back. Harry smiled through this enjoying the fact that, considering their mission, there were still mundane issues to deal with.

It was through this action that Ron discovered what he called the third greatest cook (behind his mother and Hogwart's house-elves) in the entire world: Chef Boyardee. The canned food seemed to satisfy everyone's taste needs and they had a great time cooking it in there tent's kitchen.

For lunch, however, they cooked it over an open fire. It saved the trouble of having to unpack the tent and the result was the same anyway. It was here that Harry decided to settle the issue that had been on his mind all morning. As the fire crackled underneath a pot filled with Ravioli with meatballs, he sat across from Hermione but addressed the whole group.

"Guys," he started, deciding that the ground was very interesting at the moment, "I'm sorry for this morning. Hermione," he brought his head up to look at her, "I would never want to hurt you and I didn't want to scare everyone but... well… I thought that that would be the most blunt and direct way I could make my point."

There was a large moment of silence when even the forest animals were afraid to make noise. That was until Ron let out a rather large belch which echoed through the woods and caused the flock of birds above them to scatter out of their trees. Ron immediately covered his mouth as his faced burned bright red and his eyes looked like they were trying to jump out of his head.

Everyone turned to look at him with shock on their face. He tried to say excuse me behind his hands but it came out more like "exoothem". Harry turned to look at Hermione who must have been just as shocked as he was. He saw the corners of her mouth start to curl upwards and that was all it took. Soon, all four teenagers were howling on the ground laughing to the point where they had trouble breathing.

"Way to keep a low profile," Harry snorted in between laughs, although his breathing had come back under his control.

"Yeah," Ginny said, "I bet you'll do real well in concealment for Auror training."

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked, still clutching her sides. "You haven't even eaten anything today."

After several more pokes at Ron's manners, the group settled themselves. Harry found the mood around the campfire a little less hostile and it was easier for him to reintroduce his apology.

"Seriously, I'm sorry," he said.

"Harry," Hermione started, "there's no reason to be sorry. I know you didn't want to hurt me and we all understand what you're trying to say. I thought you were angry about me not looking." Her voice trailed off and she, too, must have found something interesting on the ground at her feet.

"Yeah mate, nobody really wants to see that," Ron said. "It must've hurt like hell." Which got a quiet shhh from Hermione.

"Yeah, it did hurt," Harry said.

"I don't know if I would be able to take it," Ron's voice was quiet. Harry could tell that it wasn't something Ron particularly felt like sharing but, in his comfortableness, he let it slip out.

"Sure you could Ron," Harry tried to boost his confidence. "All of you could. We all got put into Gryffindor for a reason."

"We were Harry, but you're different," Ginny spoke up at his side. "I mean, you've proved over and over how you can fight through circumstances. I don't think I could do it either."

"Harry," Hermione said timidly, "I was wondering… I mean you don't have to if you don't want to… it's just… well… I thought you might be able to tell us what he's like. What it's like to be with him. You know, in his presence or whatever."

"You mean Voldemort," Harry replied. It wasn't a question but more of a clarification statement.

"Yes," she answered, "it's obvious that, since we're on this journey with you, that at some point we will probably be there with him. I guess I thought if you explained it we may be a little more prepared for it."

"You can't prepare for it," Harry said quickly. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but shut it quickly. Harry gazed out to the woods to find words to describe the most feared wizard ever.

"The first time you stand in front of him you can't do anything. You're body won't respond. You get this feeling like something's grabbing your heart and trying to pull it down into your stomach. Cold and dark surrounds him. I see now how the Dementors follow him so." His friends were staring at him trying to soak up every word but Harry's sight remained glued to the forest, at nothing in particular.

"When he moves, his cloak swirls around him and swishes as if its been enchanted to do so. His skin is pure white and almost reptilian. The most commanding feature is his eyes. Blood red. They're magical, his eyes. They glow and when he looks at you, it pierces anything resembling strength you have left. Don't ever look at his eyes though. They'll bring out every memory you have; every piece of information you've ever read; every thought you've ever possessed.

"As soon as you see him all you can think is that you're dead. There's no hope left. You've all met Lucius Malfoy, think about what could put fear in him.

"And then he talks. He has a high, cold voice that pricks your skin as soon as you hear it. He speaks so eloquently it forces you to listen. I can remember, pretty much word for word, everything I've ever heard him say.

"He likes to talk though. As soon as you sift through all the rubbish you realize that he doesn't ever say anything important. No for people like us, who don't buy into his crap.

"Even as a teenager, and a child before that, he found a way to gather people around him. Before he became what he is now he was handsome, charming, intelligent, driven; everything needed to fool every teacher at Hogwart's. Not Dumbledore though. Never him. He saw right through that.

"He's very deliberate in his conversation as well as his relationships. He doesn't tell anyone too much and never makes them feel that they were important. He let something slip in front of Dumbledore once, but never again.

"He's never had a friend and he doesn't want one. He'd rather lead and use people. Like his entire family tree he lies and manipulates. He's a master manipulator."

Harry paused for several seconds when he realized the forest around him was silent. The woods leaned in as if to join in for the storytelling session. Harry turned his gaze at the fire, watching it roar.

"And then he raises his wand. He casts the unforgivables like we cast lumos. There's no thought before or after. The only emotion is the delight from other's pain. You know it's going to happen. You'll see the green light and then blackness. You can't move. You can't breathe. You can't think. You're just dead."

There was silence. No wind blew, no animal made a sound. Even the fire was quiet. Harry never found out how long they sat like that. It must have been for minutes. Hermione was the first one to regain her voice.

"Does… what are his weaknesses?"

"He has none. He is the most knowledgeable and powerful wizard in the history of wizards. Not even Dumbledore could match his power."

"Then how do we win?" Hermione asked.

"Voldemort's problem is that he doesn't think of," Harry was trying to decide on the right word, "…intangibles. He despises and misunderstands love. There's determination, inner strength, courage, morality. He can't get that there's more than the physical. There's a reason he uses torture and pain as his main weapon. He hopes to weaken people by hurting them, physically and emotionally.

"That's how people like us, Yes us, can fight him. We don't care. When he hurts us it gives us determination. The more he hurts us, the more we want to fight. The harder we struggle. That's how we fight. That's why my parents fought. Why Sirius and Dumbledore fought. The Order; that's why they volunteered for it. As long as he knows there are people who fight him it keeps hope alive.

"I can't think the people in the Order possibly believe they can personally defeat Voldemort. But that's not the point. He tries to force his will, his way on the world. If we rise up against him, even for a second, and push back, it will show that he hasn't won. As long as we keep doing that he can't win."

Harry tore his gaze away from the woods and looked at each of their friends. After a while, they began to move. Harry stirred the food in the pot and, determining that it was ready, poured a bowl for each of the group. They ate quickly and quietly. Packing up their things, they dowsed the fire with water and returned to their journey.

"Thanks Harry," Hermione said as she walked to stand beside Harry. "It helped us out a lot." He smiled at them as they continued to walk.

"How long do you think we got left?" Ron asked.

"Three days," Harry replied. "Maybe three and a half."

It was indeed three days before they reached Hogwart's. They stalked by the village of Hogsmeade staying on the edge of town but still concealed in the forest. The final three days of the journey went by quicker than they expected. They shared laughs and spoke little of what to expect. Harry was glad that his friends had accompanied him and felt that if they didn't, he surely would have lost his mind by now.

Ginny let out a small gasp at his side and Harry, who was snapped violently out of his thoughts by the sound, whipped his wand out of his robes.

"What's wrong? What do you see?" He asked quickly.

She grabbed his arm with one hand and pointed with the other. They had broken into a clearing in front of a grassy field. There on the hill stood the castle, highlighted by the brilliant blue sky above it. A feeling of warmth rose up in Harry's chest as he looked at his castle. On the morning of their sixth day together, Harry Potter had come home.