Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret

Author: Japhu

Beta Reader: Chameleon

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 19 – Alarming Consequences

Harry felt dead to the world. He had never done anything that seemed as hard as this staying put and appearing to listen to his friends. He could barely prevent himself from slumping forward heavily, out cold. At the thought of this… madness he felt his insides squirming, even though the castle's presence was gone completely. A relief though Harry now felt weariness seeping into his bones. It took a moment for him to realize that things had changed. He felt his heart beat increase. He blinked rapidly. It was like waking up in broad daylight unable to see anything at all – blind to the world. He had become accustomed to seeing the universe as it was supposed to be seen, vibrant and wonderful. Now; however, the rainbow of color was mostly gone, and the rest seemed somehow dull and lifeless, berreft of its real being.

Since the moment Harry had been able to see and feel the magic around him, he had thought he'd rather not have it. He was not so certain anymore. He could still see some of the magical aura of every being but not the magic that made the tables and plates glisten in different colors. He could no longer see or feel the magic swirling in air itself. Stones and wood were now nothing more than just that – stones and wood. The rather unearthly (but beautiful) magic that filled everything and changed the whole world to a magnificent ocean of color was gone.

Not knowing what the castle had done, Harry felt rather violated and hurt. He hated not being asked before being pressed into actions he would rather not do. Concentrating hard, Harry sensed something like a shield surrounding his magic. It prevented him from accessing his power – or most of it; though it was not a shield… When he tried to pierce through it, it was gone – but not. With fright, Harry realized that he could not say where this… thing began and his own magic ended. It felt alien but strangely familiar all the same. Breathing heavily, Harry forced himself to gather his wits. Until now, the only advantage he could make out was that he would not bring a sudden explosion upon his friends. Personally, at this moment he would have enjoyed leveling Hogwarts to dust.

Carefully, Harry looked around this strangely silent world. Due to exhaustion, he considerably calmed down. Terrified beyond what his mind was able to process (and a simple inability to do anything about it) helped to subdue him. The people, students and teachers alike, looked… wrong. The brightly gleaming magical auras were gone. A barely visible haze was all that remained surrounding them. It was not healthy to brood about things one could not change; he simply shoved all of it back into a dark corner of his mind. Tom remained there – waiting. Or rather, pacing the confines of his cell.

Harry rigorously directed his gaze at his dull golden plate covered with food. He could not really appreciate that he could recognize it. Lost in his own changed view of the magical world, Harry was not aware of the looks his friends kept sending him even as the minutes ticked by slowly but steadily. He felt restless in this quiet world. It was odd to think that it had been like this forever. Before this summer's events, he had not known what a tremendous view of the world he was missing. Hermione would give anything to see only a bit of it. Harry mused to himself. He rubbed his face. A bit was not enough for him anymore. He wanted it back – all of it.

Listening to his surroundings with the keen awareness that comes with utter tiredness (when one is beginning to feel light and detached from everything real). Harry suddenly knew why it felt so impossibly quiet. The constant whisper of magic, the low humming buzz of pulsing and continuously working energy, that had been a regular sound in the back of his head had fallen silent. Even though Harry listened attentively, silence echoed in his ears. Only a faint glimmer of something remained. Knowing it had to be there but not really hearing it in any way; he felt it deep down within his own being.

He truly had gone deaf and blind according to his magical senses. However, he was left trembling with apprehension not by this loss, but by the knowledge of what Hogwarts was capable of. What would it or could it do to him in the future, if it had taken his power as easily as this? He was suddenly relieved he had chosen to follow a really simple plan. Anything more elaborate would have gone to hell by now since it seemed his priorities had just experienced a sudden, quite unexpected, change. At his first opportunity, he would need to find out what the castle had done and what it was up to now. He would not just sit back and accept this power play. No way!

"Harry!"

"Huh? Yes?" He looked up at Ron from the plate he had been intently staring at. Blinking rapidly at the change of sight, he felt as though he had been ripped from a dream (which he was somehow); though it was more like a nightmare.

"What's going on with you today, Harry? It must be the fiftieth time I had to yell to finally get your attention." Ron snorted, but he looked more worried than he wanted to let on. Harry grimaced.

"I don't see you yelling now," he said dryly looking at both of them.

He still could see his friends' auras, if not as bright and gleaming as before. The colors (especially in Hermione's aura) seemed muddled somehow, less there. It was not as bad as he had thought – or as it could have been. Harry still could think of much worse and he shuddered to think of it. It would not be as easy now to read the colors, but at least he could still see some of each of their aura.

"For once he was trying to be discreet, Harry." Hermione watched him. Suddenly, Hermione had quite the conspiratorial expression on her face as she bent down to him. "You felt it, didn't you?" She spoke quietly and stabbed at her food in nearly the same manner as Harry had done just moments ago.

"Sorry, no." Harry shook his head. As tired and frightened as he was, he still knew when a lie was in order. "I was just nearly asleep, Hermione. Thanks for waking me - by the way." He turned to Ron while furrowing his brows. Everything was just… wrong.

"Are you all right?" Hermione would not let it go, as Harry had hoped. Set her a tracer and she would follow it to the end and beyond.

"Of course I am." Harry nodded vigorously and tried to look as he had told her. "What were you talking about? What did you feel?" It was not easy to ask his questions with the right amount of confused worry, without sounding guilty. Anyway, it was a good opportunity to figure out what exactly had reached her. He bent down to her with the same conspiratorial look. "Was it the same as in the train?"

Now, Ron too seemed to be intrigued, if mostly confused. Still munching on something that looked like a bit of the squid's tentacle covered in that now rather lukewarm pumpkin jelly; he leaned in to join the quiet conversation. Instantly, his stomach churned. Harry had to turn away to avoid a rather unpleasant occurrence. Hermione still seemed at a loss for words. Something in Harry already regretted having asked her. He needed to know if he had to reckon with her. Looking questioningly at her was proving enough to start her talking in a barely audible whisper.

"It was different." She tilted her head, a fingernail deliberately following the pattern of the wood's grain. "It wasn't as overwhelming as before. It seemed… controlled or shadowed by something… as if it wasn't really there." Pulling a face she looked up at him. "Are you sure you're feeling well?"

"Yes, Hermione." Harry blinked and faked a yawn. "I told you. I'm all right – just feeling tired. I need a good night's sleep without teachers poking their heads in and waking me." Hermione stared at him out of thoughtfully narrowed eyes as if doubting his words. He really did feel better – at least magically. Save Tom, Harry did not have anything that could get out of control at any moment – not anymore. Harry knew he physically still looked as pale as the moon, with dark craters under his eyes. Nothing he could do about that. At least he did not look like some hunger stick. He had gotten food all right during this summer – well, save his own carelessness during the last day.

"What are you going to do about it?" Harry brought her back, quite relieved that she did not ramble endlessly. Obviously, it had helped to have a similar experience of high magic's use beforehand. She was able to concentrate on the scientific aspects of it this time.

"What I'll do?" A definite gleam shone in her eyes when she looked around the hall before resting them on Harry again. "I'll look it up of course. It happened twice already," she explained rapidly with, surprisingly, much enthusiasm. "That means there's a strong possibility it is something that occurs regularly… or at least more than one time per century." Her eyes glazed over slightly as if in a fever. "There have to be books about something like that." Her lips pressed together in determination. "Wherever those books are, I'll find them, Harry." The girl blossomed under a challenge like this. Stress (and not to have one moment of free-time) prolonged her life and made her happy.

"I'm sure you will." Harry smiled rather indulgently. She seemed absolutely determined to solve this puzzle. He quite liked her stubborn resoluteness and resourcefulness in these things – mostly. She had more opportunities to find something than he had; and Harry would have to read a lot of information this year. He was glad Hermione could help him, even if she would not know it.

It was rather unfortunate that he could not tell his two best friends. Harry followed this thought rather gloomily even though his decision had been made for some time already. It was quite sensitive information he had to hide. Harry did not trust them to handle the problem the way he wanted to, or rather, as he had planned to solve it. Besides, they would have enough on their minds; and for once they should not have to deal with his problems. Mostly, it was selfish motives that closed his mouth tightly. Harry did not want them to know anything about what had happened out of fear they would try to meddle with things they knew nothing about.

He could already see Ron backing away with an expression of terrified disgust after he told him the Dark Lord was quite literally living in his head. He watched everything Harry did; trying to break out at least once a day to take over the world. Hermione would most likely pull out her notebook and never leave his side again. At least until she had read some clever books about possession that is. At which point, she would deem it to dangerous for Harry – and everyone else – to allow him to roam freely about. Of course, it would only be in his best interest that they lock him up in the deepest dungeon. Inevitably, they would get a professor's help when they noticed Harry's determination to work through this on his own was not going to change anytime soon. Certainly, they would only be trying to help him. It would not really matter to whom they spoke. Dumbledore would know, eventually. Harry could not trust that man to let him do what he knows is the best in this crazy situation.

There was only one way Harry knew to deal with his problem – alone. He did not have a choice. It was his problem, and he would deal with it. It hurt, though, not being able to talk to anyone besides his own reflection; and he had not reckoned on having Hogwarts at his throat too. Harry watched his friends with something like regretful steadfastness. He did not want to think about help he could not ask for or a future he did not have. Directing his attention back to his food, Harry kept one ear to his friends.

For now, Hermione seemed busy planning her thorough research through each one of the library's books. Ron was still shovelling those gross things into his mouth. Once again Harry took a bite of whatever it was his plate held warm for him. He relished more in the quiet than in the taste of the food. Harry knew that this moment of peace could not hold long. He found himself under a scrutinizing gaze again only moments after he had cleared his mind of the worries that loomed over him. He hesitated to risk a look at the headtable, but Harry had to know.

Frowning slightly, Harry saw the headmaster watching him thoughtfully. Harry's eyes narrowed. Stupid castle sending some of its magic right under the old man's nose! By now the old twinkler would have figured out that whatever had happened during the summer had far reaching consequences which were not nearly over. He did not look like he had an inkling of what exactly was going on. Could it be that Dumbledore was blind to the castle's real… being? Still? It did not seem likely that the headmaster would leave be something so powerful without controlling it. After being headmaster for decades, should he not know?

Harry had sworn to himself to stay far away from Dumbledore whenever possible. It would do the manipulative bastard some good to feel firsthand what it means to trust others to know what's best, and to be forced to follow blindly in their paths. Well, he would find out soon enough how long Dumbledore was going to let him off the leash. Certainly the crooked nose man knew something had happened during summer. Most probably he had noticed his absence from Privet Drive – nothing to ponder about after the Order's visit right at the moment he had returned. Let him be suspicious. It did not matter. There was no way anyone could know what had happened during his absence. This stuff nobody but himself would be able to tell; anyone else who had been there was dead. Of course, he could remember those golden robes. None of them had been there when Harry left. Unless Snape…

Harry glanced further down the head table and gulped when he found the Potions Master returning his look with seldom before seen seriousness. No! Snape did not know anything. The entire staff appeared to limit themselves to watching – possibly under Dumbledore's orders – until Harry gave a clue to all these events. Snape was no exception. That man always looked sour. At the moment though, his scornful gaze lacked the loathing it normally radiated rather convincingly. His eyes were so narrow that they appeared to disappear, just like the tightly pressed mouth. Harry thought he could hear him gritting his teeth through the hall.

They had not spoken more than a few words during the whole time at Diagon Alley or King's Cross. Well, mostly they had just exchanged nasty remarks along the way; or better Harry had taken what had been freely given. Perhaps Snape guessed something. There were a lot of theories around, but nothing definite. Harry glanced up at the Professor's table. It could not be! It must not be. Snape would have talked to Dumbledore. Knowing something like that, the old coot would not have waited until Harry finished his meal. He would have been standing right next to the entrance of the castle when Harry arrived.

It was not possible that Snape had been there when… no. Harry blinked, shook himself out of this spiral and shrugged inwardly. He could not do anything. Therefore it was lost time – again – to think about what he would do eventually. He would not wallow in things that simply were out of his ability to control. Had Snape been there, he would be dead now like all the others. Point. Harry shoved his plate away. He was still hungry but his need for food was gone. An apple and a few bites of… Harry looked down. It had an aftertaste of pumpkin, but it did not resemble anything near. Whatever it was, it was not enough to fill his stomach.

Harry would think about Snape only when outer circumstances dictated it. He was not without ammunition if his illustrious Potions Master chose to take their little tête-à-tête to another level. Actually, Harry looked forward to it, if he just had a better hold on his magic. Sighing, Harry moved his observations to the next individual of interest. He could barely prevent a scowl from showing on his face, followed directly by a flustered role of his eyes.

Brado still wore that stupid smile and did not seem to have felt anything. Chatting away happily to Harry's rather glum looking Head of House; Brado appeared not to worry about anything in general. Once again, he winked to some students whose looks he caught. Although Brado's demeanour did not necessarily have to mean anything, his aura had nearly become invisible. Maybe Harry should go forward to tell him that there was no need to hide himself anymore, as Harry would not be able to see anything if it was right in front of his face.

"He's angry that he doesn't have Neville anymore to take points from. He can't do it to Hermione. Everyone knows she doesn't make mistakes she doesn't want to." Harry turned around slowly so as not to make his head spin. He looked from Seamus to Neville and back again, thinking he had missed his cue again.

"You were looking at Snape," Seamus explained evenly; grinning like the imp he was. "He looks like he wants to keel over and isn't doing it because he knows we would applaud him for that feat."

"He does?" Harry had seen nothing special. He had just taken the sallow look for the git's every day appearance. Harry did not give a damn about the git's choice of garb (out of the countless black one's he had) or anything else.

"Maybe he's not feeling well?" Hermione's voice of reasoning made itself known. It was met by a wall of blank looks and uncaring scoffs.

"As I said," Seamus smiled gleefully. "He's going to keel over."

"And if he's seriously ill?" Again scoffs were the only answer. Ron even started to clap his hands with mirth, though only for a moment. He had to put his fork down in order to accomplish a feat like that. He preferred more food though.

Well, what if he was ill? Once again, Harry watched the head table and its occupants. In general, he did not look at the bastard with all that much attention. He intended to keep it that way, at least as long as he was not in danger of getting another one of those unaccountable (and quite unfairly given) detentions Snape seemed to try to hand out two for the price of one when giving them to him. However, they were right. Snape looked like he had swallowed something vile. Harry's eyes widened in recognition.