Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret

Author: Japhu

Pairing: HPSS

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and his world and don't make any money with it.

Summary: For one week in summer Harry disappears without trace. When he comes back he claims to have no memory. But something happened and it changed him. It remains to be seen if for the better or the worse. (will be HPSS)

Category: action/adventure/angst

Feedback: highly appreciated

Chapter 12 - Preventing Overload

"In case you did not hear what I said before…" Harry's face had lost all expression of friendliness – or rather the mask of neutrality he had worn before and stepped forward with utmost constraint to a still smirking Malfoy heir. "I'll gladly repeat it just for you." In the cold eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived flashed a vicious glint. "Stay. Far. Away. From me." Harry narrowed his eyes. He knew that Malfoy was too much his father's son to keep the distance for much longer than to the end of the train ride, but that did not really matter. The most important thing at the moment was that Malfoy got lost NOW.

Malfoy would run screaming if he knew how narrowly he escaped a fate much worse than the few bruises that would adorn his chest for the next days when Harry was finished with him. He felt the energy crackling all around him, searching for a weak point – which found it in him – to trigger the spark of destruction. It would bring the whole tense, extraordinarily frail building of magic to explosion – like the sinister grumbling in black towering storm clouds before the thunder rolled and lightning flashed to leave one deaf and awestruck face to face with such an incredible and breathtaking display of power. Harry did not imagine the tiny spark that flashed in front of his eyes when he raised his hand, although he tried to keep the magic to himself with every last one of his abilities. He was not nearly powerful enough to control it, and the magic just would not stopped flowing.

"Go, Malfoy, as long as you still can." he bit out. His voice sounded cool and detached. "And never cross my path again." Nothing of his inner fight and of the fury he felt shone through. Only an infinitesimal glimmer of something revealed that anything was amiss at all. Harry pushed the boy backwards with just a tip of his finger, and Malfoy stumbled against Crabbe or Goyle – Harry couldn't tell amidst the swirling maelstrom of colored but oppressing magical energy – with a surprised grunt. Malfoy would gracelessly have fallen to the ground if not for the oak like boys blocking the door and catching him awkwardly. Thoughtfully and without moving, Harry watched him getting to his feet. It must have felt as if someone had knocked the breath out of him – with a bulldozer. The bruise on his chest would not be a large but a very painful one – no little satisfaction Harry got out of this fact alone, and he smirked at that thought.

Malfoy should call himself lucky that Harry never had drawn his wand, for that would have made it only harder to control the magic. Malfoy had gotten away with the lesser of two evils, because Harry was not able to restrain everything – it just was not possible to hold so much energy so suddenly all at once. Something had to be let out or he would explode. Harry could not say what would have remained from the train and its occupants then, for once already he had loosened his powers and had seen the consequences of that. With a mask of bewilderment Malfoy scowled at him, his look never less contemptful, but now mingled with caution and fear. Harry noticed the narrowing of eyes and the hurt dignity, which was not worth a fart in Harry's thinking. He recognized the exact moment in which Malfoy decided to grow himself a backbone just now of all times.

"Don't!" Harry said with dangerous calm. "You won't like the consequences, Malfoy." Every single word held a promise of pain far beyond a schoolboy's imagination. "Just don't!" Harry watched and waited and hoped for Malfoy's sake that the boy had enough sense to go, because Harry was not entirely sure he could control himself a next time. On that matter he still had to cope with a fiercely scowling, but now fortunately silent Ron, whose violent magic alone was almost enough to break the shaky barrier Harry had set up around himself.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry could see that Ron was still in a staring match with the blond nemesis. Harry tightened his grip and wished that Ron simply would let Malfoy go without a fuss, so that he could sit down and take a deep, shaky breath. It was all the much harder, because Ron did not know what he caused. Harry had not left much strength to get his friend to calm down, so he just steadied his grip and pushed him to his seat. He did not want to use magic, not now, not here, and not when he could not control himself. Harry did not want to hurt his best friend. He just wanted to stop his temper from reigning free.

Harry forced himself to let go of Ron. He could not hold him back without revealing himself, so Harry hoped that Ron would calm down fast on his own when Malfoy was gone. Harry blinked. He did not feel so good. Malfoy was nothing more than a turquoise, somewhat murky silhouette of energy. The whole room was nothing more than a bunch of colors from which Harry could not separate one from the other. It would have been disturbing, if he had not grown accustomed to it by then in some lesser degree. If Harry squinted his eyes he could see Malfoy opening his mouth to say something, his silver eyes flashing to Hermione and to Ron, but never meeting his.

Harry did not care what the boy had to say, not now as he needed to concentrate to read the magic and to hold it back from release. He just looked at Malfoy and growled deep in his throat. With his hand raised to the green clad chest Harry stepped forward again, and he felt himself trembling with suppressed power. He knew that the magic searched for a way out. Harry blinked. Suddenly his aim was not there anymore and the doorway empty. He drew a deep breath and let his hand drop.

Hermione and Ron could not see what had made Malfoy pale that way and led him to take more cautious steps back, shoving past his goons with some difficulty and hurrying out of the compartment. Had they asked Malfoy, he would have said that only an for instant he thought to have seen that Potter's eyes flashed in a vibrant violet color before they turned back into dark green ice, cold and passionless waiting for him to decide on his future. Now that Malfoy had fled and his magical presence diminished to nothing the farther he got away, he felt something shifting within the magic.

Harry wordlessly closed the door. He found it really fortunate that Malfoy was not one of the most courageous people and a Slytherin, who considered his own being more important than anything else, because Malfoy surely would have stayed longer, otherwise. If Malfoy only used the head nature had bestowed him with, for once, and learned something from past experiences, that whole affair could have been prevented. Rasping, Harry watched the closed door. His legs felt wobbly. It would not have required much more and Harry he have lost control.

"Serves him right! Death Eater!" Still with a red face and tightly balled fists Ron grunted and let himself fall onto the seat in front of which Harry had shoved him, completely boneless.

"Eat another frog, Ron, and let us breath." Harry all but fell down in the seat, completely drained and sweating like he just ran a marathon. A second more and he would not have had to worry about anything. He relished in the feeling of receding magic, as he could feel a never satisfied appetite for power awoke, an almost desperate need to have it, to yield it – but he could not.

Harry felt the copper taste of blood in his mouth where he bit his cheek and swallowed heavily. He let himself think farther into the cushions, completely out of breath and ready to drop dead just to get some quiet. Slowly but steadily pain and numbness receded and his sight became clear once more. For the first time since Malfoy had stormed their compartment, Harry looked at Hermione. He could not remember when she had let go of Ron, but now she sat sunken into her corner, pale faced. She desperately wrung her hands, and Harry remembered what she had said. She seemed to feel his look as she glanced guiltily up to him, saying nothing, and simply waited for Harry to tell her that she had blundered on the whole front.

"I'm really sorry, Ron." Harry said without turning his face away from the quivering girl. "I didn't want to push you." He did not listen to Ron's temper ridden answer and wondered what burned in Hermione's mind.

"Why did you do it?" Harry's voice was restrained. He was to exhausted to lay real emotions in his words – and did not really care. No, that was a lie, he did care what his friends did, even if he should not. "You never questioned me in front of Malfoy before," he reminded her cautiously. He did ot want his friend to beat herself up about it, as it seemed to have left her more shaken than Harry thought justified.

"I'm sorry, Harry. It was just…" She looked like death walking. "I… can't…" Tears leaked out of her eyes. "I was overwhelmed. At first your disappearance and than Malfoy saying that you… that you…" She breathed heavily. "I was shocked and so much thought went around and…" She sighed heavily.

"I was thinking about… what Malfoy had said and… suddenly—" An anxious frown formed on her face when she questioningly looked at both boys. "Did you feel it?" She drew a trembling breath, shaken to the core. "There was… I don't know." She shook her head. Harry saw her rainbow colored aura flicker uncertainly in accord with her mood. His eyes grew wide. It can't be!

"I just thought about what I wanted to ask you when we'd have a moment alone, but… I just couldn't, Harry. I don't know what happened. I'm so sorry."

"Everything was disappearing and I thought about what happened and still could happen and then the pressure grew and I wanted to know so much, and I couldn't breath. I couldn't not ask, Harry. I wasn't even there for a moment and I felt…"

"You felt something?" Harry gently interrupted her rambling, inwardly utterly tense. It could have been the magic that set Harry on edge. Maybe the magic had done something similar to Hermione? She must have felt the magic gathering shortly before Ron's outburst. She would not know what was going on. She could not have known, but why should not some people be more perceptive to things like that than others? It was possible, was it not?

"I'm sorry Harry, I just couldn't take it anymore. Did you feel it?" She searchingly looked at him, desperate for someone to understand what had been going on. "It was pressing down my chest, I couldn't breath and I wanted to get out, but I couldn't. I couldn't think straight. I had to do something and I just had to say something. It was the first that came to my mind and I really wanted to know… want to know what happened to you." She looked at him with a shadow of her former appearance, but at his inquisitive stare she looked down again.

"I'm sorry Harry. I do believe you, really. I just want to know why you lost your memories." Harry grimaced. She was working herself in a frenzy, not a thing he had seen before. He caught Ron's eyes, but the redhead looked away, still clearly miffed at Harry's harsh attitude towards him; although, Harry could see him throwing worried glances at the girl.

"Calm down, Hermione." Harry turned back to the frantic girl. "Please. No harm done."

"I was just thinking about everything you had said… and Malfoy and…" Another desperate shake of her head. "I don't know, suddenly I felt this…" Frowning, she looked into the air, reliving the whole occurrence in her mind, searching for some clues to explain what had happened and why she had reacted that way.

What did it mean that Hermione could feel the magic? If one measured pure magical power Hermione was not as strong as Ron by any means, but Harry could not read her aura all that well. The colors were all wrong – too much for one person, even if most had more than one; but she had felt it consciously. His heart clenched painfully as he listened.

"He's right, Hermione. Don't think about it anymore." Ron offered a bit awkwardly. Harry cast him a fleeting glance. When Hermione had felt the energy – and it had been a lot of it, how could Ron not? Harry would like to ask Ron, but the fiery temper was still cursing through his body and Harry honestly did not feel strong enough to handle Ron again just then.

"I just didn't concentrate… I…" she shook her head, unable to find the right words to explain anything at all. Thoughtfully and with hope shining in her eyes, her gaze rested on the boys. "Did anyone of you feel it? It was like… as if someone was here with us in the room. It made me dizzy and I just… couldn't think."

"Well, yeah. Malfoy made me dizzy, too. Bastard!" Ron announced unimpressed, clearly not seeing the impact of Hermione's slip. However, Ron said what he wanted whenever he felt like it – without thinking, mind you. Hermione simply ignored him, as did Harry after a harsh look.

"It was all about the room. I've never felt anything remotely related to this. I just… couldn't think clearly. I didn't now something like that was even possible. Nowhere I have found references to something like…" She was at a loss of words and fell, white as chalk, back in her seat. "God! I can't believe I said that!" Her wand trembled in her hand like a tree in a storm. "In front of Malfoy!"

"Well, at least you didn't blurt out the important bits. It wasn't as if you said something Malfoy didn't know already." Harry tried to loosen up the mood. "Everyone can have a blackout of sorts." He tilted his head. "Even if you didn't have one until now. It's human." He shrugged.

"I was just… thinking aloud." Harry sighed. Slowly Hermione's rambling got on his nerves. He wanted quiet. It was not that he did not feel with her, but as he could not possibly tell her the truth, could she not let go of it? It was not really that bad. Harry suppressed a small, tired grin. At least it looked like he did not need to tell her anything to get her help. Hermione would research everything on her own and let him in on what she learnt under way.

"Well, gather yourself and look it up in the library." he said lightly, giving her the right impulse. For once the girl looked as if she had found the ground under her feet again. It would help Harry immensely as he had still enough things to search for, but she did not need to know that.

"Thanks, Harry. But what Malfoy said—" Harry looked a bit chagrined at herself for questioning him. Then he shrugged, returning her gaze.

"Could be. I don't have any memories. Remember?" It came out laced with sarcasm, but she did not look away.

"Are you sure?" she inquired notwithstanding. Harry bit his lips and nodded.

"Quite. I would know, wouldn't I?"

"Perhaps you just repressed what happened, because of its traumatic impact it had on you." Merlin! Could she not be normal for once. One moment she almost sobbed her heart out, and in the next she called the inquisition back to life.

"Don't try to psychoanalyze me, Hermione." Harry rolled his eyes in good humor. "I wouldn't take for granted anything that Malfoy came up with in a decent conversation, much less in an exchange of niceties like the preceding one. He's just trying to rile us up." Neither of his friends seemed wholly convinced.

"It didn't seem as if you couldn't remember." Hermione mentioned quietly, never wavering in her opinion.

"What?" Harry turned abruptly. He wanted it to stop. "Should I have thanked him for letting me know what was going on? Most probably he was making everything up in that pomade dripping head of his." Harry allowed some annoyance to shine through his exhausted expression.

"What do you think Malfoy would have done, if it seemed as if I couldn't remember one damn thing? Should I have asked him whether he would do me the favor of telling me the whole story?" Harry laughed unhappily. "He would have been gone to the first one wearing a white mask before the train stopped." Hermione looked disturbed and Ron kept his gloomy expression directed to his shoes. Neither of them did seem to want to talk any further and Harry let them wallow in their own worlds, as he took the opportunity to close his eyes for just an instant.

He would have to think of convincing lies to keep them away from the truth. Most things did not even matter should they figure them out, but he had to remind himself to never let them forget that he had no memory. Never let them forget that he was just a Gryffindor, trusting, innocent a heart and not remotely perceptive and devious enough to devise and plot tricky plans and to fool others for longer than two days.

The whole thing was a puzzle. How could Ron be so strong and not know it – or use the inborn magic even unconsciously. He had to feel it. Harry felt every bit of magic he did, even before he had changed. Hermione had felt it, not seen, but certainly felt. It would probably lead to complications when she crammed her head full with knowledge about the working of magic in general. And Malfoy? Harry was not sure if the boy knew facts or was just spouting his usual pureblood nonsense, though, he had not shown a reaction to anything but Harry's push.

Harry suppressed a growl. It would be harder than he had anticipated to hold on to his plan and to keep Tom a secret while he worked to achieve it. He could not have his friends – or his enemies – following him everywhere, second guessing everything he did or did not do. After a few minutes Harry sighed and pried his eyes open when the silence grew oppressing and let the magic crackle anew with anticipation.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't want to shout at you." Harry looked flustered and went on with a slight quiver in his voice for good measure. "I… I just don't know what happened… and it makes me a bit restless that everyone seems to know so much more then I do."

"I'm sorry, too, Harry." Hermione smiled with obvious relieve. "I didn't want to press. I'm sure everything will be sorted out soon. Dumbledore will help you." She meant it for reassurance, Harry was certain, but it only made his innards squirm.

"Yes," he bit out with a friendly grin. "I'm sure the headmaster can help." Harry felt the bile rising in his throat. Dumbledore was a problem he had to get around somehow. The old man was much too ubiquitous and nosy to give him comfort in his presence. Harry watched the landscape passing by, He did not want to loose his calm now when the crisis had come and passed of all things. He shuddered when the last remains of magic sought its way and buzzed around. He could still feel the energy in his fingertip. The spark was there, Harry was sure, he just had to get it to the fire.

"How did you do it?" Ron inquired oddly subdued and Harry spun around.

"What?" He rubbed his eyes, blinking.

"Malfoy. You just looked at him and he went all pale and left."

"Reputation, Ron, and a lot of practice." Harry grinned and he let his eyes close for good. His friends did not know it yet, but there would be real changes, not only according to Malfoy, but between the three of them, too. Later, Harry thought sleepily, when it would not be as suspicious as now. Then he drifted fast into another world of premonition and darkness, and full of signs he could not read.