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 29 – Never Surrender
His brow knitted and his jaw set in an angry line, Harry looked deliberately past the headmaster, watching the storm gathering more and more force, waiting for it to blow the tower apart. It would not be easy to catch a snitch in a storm like that, but Harry would let them chase their snitches, nevertheless; it would give him time enough to catch his own when nobody was looking. Although, at first, he had to let them loose.
Relaxing slightly without making it visible, Harry was not one to let pass a moment of peace. Carefully, Harry used the time to sort his thoughts and – while drawing deep and calming breaths as one gust of wind after the other hit the castle with an angry howl – to enforce the barrier around that small and hidden part within his mind that held the soul and essence of what had once been Voldemort.
Harry constantly needed to draw on his powers to keep Tom's prison intact. He did it almost unconsciously now, but Harry became aware of it again when Tom raged against the magical walls. He felt the energy run through his body; and he knew that he could not hold up his magic working this way forever. It was exhausting and would become even more so. The incessant flow of magic that Harry let run through himself to keep Tom where he was had only one – well, two – advantages. Firstly, the obvious – Tom was safely put away; secondly, Harry knew instantly when Tom got up to something new to try. Harry always knew what Tom was doing. Not that he could really talk to him or read his mind, but whenever Tom became more… determined Harry felt it and knew that Tom tried to better him again. It seemed to work similar to the way the Dark Mark's bond reacted since Hogwarts had taken the better part of Harry's magic. Glancing thoughtfully towards the old man, Harry would have liked to know what he thought the castle was doing, or if he was aware of the castle at all.
"You'll never believe me, will you?" His hands clenched forcefully, Harry waited. With effort his breath came short and ragged. Never leaving the old man out of his angry gaze, he tried to keep in mind – be angry, but not too angry; insolent, but not too insolent; guilty, but not too guilty; curious, but not too curious – a hell of job he had taken upon his shoulders. Only when the old man looked at him expectantly, urging the Gryffindor boy to say something, to explain himself, Harry jumped head first in the abyss, breathing deeply while doing so. He called up the resentment smouldering close under the surface.
"Why am I to tell you everything? Why am I here when you don't believe what I say, anyway?" Harry said what he wanted to say for months now (if slightly different), though never once did he give up control. He still knew what he was doing. It was time to call in another round. "You take what you need and find useful; to everything else you just nod before you throw it away without so much as a glance. I told you I have had no vision, save this one." Harry had the cup in a grip so tight that the tiny porcelain tool shook in his hand.
"You say I may be right and you thank me for telling you, and in the same sentence you doubt everything I told and make it sound as if I'm walking around half mad for saying so; only because you want me to take those stupid Occlumency lesson that did not help me the first time around." Harry forced his hand to loose the grip around the tiny cup. "Honestly, they made everything worse! But did you care? No! Not even now! You nod and say it's all right and then you do what you always do." Harry had a hard time to balance his tea cup without sloshing. He took a deep breath.
"I don't want to – and will not – take Occlumency lessons from some prejudiced, arrogant little… professor, who can't even get his own head out of the gutter long enough to realize that nobody but he cares a shit about what he thinks or does or doesn't do."
On pure instinct Harry pressed his magic forward when the Dark Mark's bond swelled to a liquid fire of wrath. How Harry managed that he did not know, but whatever it was it made the feeling of his skin burning retreat; and it pulled the mental walls he had erected closer together than ever before. Harry felt Tom raging against them as the walls closed in on him. With every heart beat breathing became more taxing.
Harry did not turn around to look at his professor, but a sharp gesture and a meaningful gaze from Dumbledore towards the point where all the fury centred itself right behind him made Harry believe that he would possibly live a moment longer. Maybe he had been a bit too insolent. He should not rile that man up all that much. Time for a change of topic. Harry hoped that now the old man and his… right hand man were open enough to take what he came up with without too much questioning his words.
"I say it again, sir. I hope you listen. I really didn't have another vision." Narrowed eyes flared up angrily with accusation. Dumbledore said nothing. His expression was closed and gave not a thing away, not even a twinkle. When fury did not work then maybe sadness and disappointment might get the message across.
"Why don't you believe anything I say?" With an air of regret, Harry pulled his cup closer to him and watched it for a quiet moment. When he looked up again, there was sorrow and a dim expression of acceptance towards the inevitable visible on his face. "Is all that matters to you Voldemort? Is all that you care about what I have seen in that snake face's mind?" Harry made it sound like a question – but not. The tea in his cup sloshed on his robe and made him hiss in pain when the hot liquid came through his pants.
With as much caution as Harry could come up with in his current state of mind he put the cup safely away on Dumbledore's desk; and as soon as his hands were free he balled his fists until the knuckles stood out white – not to express emotions, but to suppress the pain that split his head open, an inconvenient echo from Tom's newest attempt to get what he wanted now when it truly could not have been more unwelcome; or maybe the former lord was just claustrophobic.
"Can't you take me seriously, for once?" Harry sighed heavily, his gaze brimming with deeply felt betrayal. "Is it too much to ask?" Dumbledore looked silently at him, assessing; and that brought the Gryffindor's anger back full force, now, when the tea cup was out of danger to be accidentally broken.
"It's my life at stake!" Harry glared sharply when the old man finally found words to say and opened his mouth, though Harry was faster. "I haven't forgotten your stupid prophecy! I won't run away! Where should I ran to? Huh?" Harry raised his chin questioningly before making his point. "But it is my life! And I really don't like you playing with it as if it's something you own! It's mine!" Harry rounded on the headmaster in all his fiery Gryffindor glory, not even realizing the mark's bond – pain overrode it expertly.
Harry's attention was evenly divided to keep his mind and mouth with the discussion, and his magic holding Tom; though, the latter was not as hard to achieve as it had been before. Although, it hurt like hell. Either Tom did not try to break out to his full power, or Harry had gotten a better control about the bit of magic he had left to his convenience than he had previously thought. The castle's interference had left him enough magic to do what was necessary (for now), but not enough to get distracted and loose control.
However, maybe it had been enough that Harry had almost waited for Tom to come forward. To be prepared and wait for something to happen was a whole lot different than being trampled down in surprise. Despite his headache, Harry did not feel half as bad as he had in Diagon Alley. The pain was manageable – just so; and he had more important things to handle. Perhaps, this was another reason why he could hold his barriers much more easily than the day before Harry mused when he gathered his breath for the next round; ignoring the pain that rippled through his body, he kept his magic prepared to drop it on Tom like a hammer should it become necessary. Now, he let a hammer drop on the old man.
"I thought you had seen what happened when I have to do things on my own. I thought now you would tell me what was going on." Harry paced in front of the desk with open fury, three steps in one direction and three steps back, all the while muttering to himself. "It's not even as if I don't know what's going on." Harry stopped abruptly right in front of the headmaster, staring into the dimly twinkling eyes with as much hurt and guilt and accusation as he could manage. "If I had known that the vision is important I would have told you. I would have told you right after… last year that Voldemort meant to renew the… the acquaintance to some of his old… friends." Harry grimaced painfully and started pacing, again.
"You never tell me anything of what is important. I thought you knew. I really thought you did." Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Snape's eyes widening; and Dumbledore sat a bit straighter against the high back-rest of his chair. "I thought the Order must know already that Voldemort had planned to lie low for some time, that he wanted to undermine the Ministry from within before the panic in the Wizarding world could grow to new heights and he would start his… war. I thought you all knew already. How was I to know that you didn't?"
"What did you say, Potter!" The bond flared up with utmost fury. It was the Potions Master, totally aghast by what the boy had just revealed in a moment of… anger, who interrupted his constant muttering. Open mouthed the boy stopped amidst what seemed a total loss of control – not of his magic but his mouth; though, Harry was cautious not to get into arm's reach of the Potions Master as the man processed his words.
"Didn't you listen, Professor?" Harry spat the title. He did not bother to hide his feelings. His tone of voice was not nearly as nice as people outside of this office were used to. It had nothing to do with being Gryffindor, but everything with being unable to suppress every emotion he felt. Now, since the moment he had concentrated on Snape the bond was back and Harry could not make it go away again. There was nothing Harry could do about his own reaction to the white, hot burning rage that surged through his mind from two sources at once – Snape and Tom; and everything aimed at him. Harry had never been so near to loose control of… everything at once. Each of them alone Harry could manage alright, but against both at the same time he had to struggle to keep his control. However, under such circumstances it was not hard to be an emotionally unbalanced teenager. Harry tried to see something positive in all what was happening, but somehow it did not quite work.
The stupid castle took most of his powers away but left him to deal with Tom. As if Snape and Dumbledore were not enough to keep him busy. Harry's eyes narrowed with concentration. Keeping his own anger separated from Snape's fury and Tom's rage was what took the most of his energy; all the while his head hurt as if it did not know tomorrow. His field of vision seemed to shrink with every breath he took and the blood roared deafening in his ears, right along with this pulsing bond he could not prevent from sending more and more emotions, now, when Snape did not seem to think of him anymore but of the information and what it meant for the cause. Apprehension was there and unbelief, and something that felt like tightly suppressed astonishment tinged with… knowing respect, though for what Harry could not tell. He was certain, though, the man could mess up everything. Harry glared at the Potions Master full force. He could not let himself be distracted by things that could be.
"I'll gladly repeat everything." Harry bit out with a sneer. "Voldemort had planned to use those wizards. He needs them… and I thought you knew." The bond felt like a hole in his head, and the glare he so defiantly met was like frozen fire. Harry jerked around when Dumbledore cleared his throat.
"And how do you know this, Harry?" Dumbledore's eyes seemed glued to him, his voice suspiciously bare of emotion. The lemon drop was long since bitten into pieces, again.
"From the Department of Mysteries." Harry said, his anger blown away, whispering the last words because it was too painful to say them out loud. Harry kept himself occupied with a loose thread of his robe's sleeve while the men progressed what he had implied. "When… when Voldemort…" Harry took a deep breath and rushed on. "When Voldemort possessed me in the Department of Mysteries…" Harry's voice broke off and he shook his head as if trying to scare off whatever thought had been rolling through his mind.
"I won't sit around all day and tell you of torture sessions and meetings and… these other things I saw in his stupid head when he possessed me. Even now half of the Wizarding world believes I'm on the mad side." His eyes brimming with suppressed emotions, Harry kept on shaking his head forcefully. "If I had known what was relevant I would have told – even last year – what matters, believe me, sir, but I'm not that fond of remembering what goes on in Voldemort's head to go through it again and again for the only sake of doing it. I can't, sir!" Harry sighed, a slight tremor in his voice. "I know you think it might be important, but most of it was just… bloody, sir, really bloody." Harry did not give Dumbledore a choice to voice his own thoughts.
"Whatever you say, these are my memories. I won't have anyone looking into them, and I don't like Pensieves." At that Harry looked directly at his Potions Master, who growled deep in his throat and balled his fists – the first visible sign that the conceited git was feeling anything at all. "I will keep those memories were they are until they're needed." Harry tried to look believable. "I swear I'll tell you whatever is necessary when it's relevant to… to the cause."
It remained unspoken that Dumbledore himself would need to keep Harry informed of everything, otherwise the boy would barely be able to decide that his information might indeed be relevant, and even then Harry could simply say that it was not, and Dumbledore could not say otherwise if he did not want to call Harry Potter a liar to his face. Information for information, that was the game they would play this year, not everything for nothing, not anymore.
Now they were aware that Harry had more information than he had ever told them. They knew that he did not trust either of them or he would have revealed something like that much sooner – and not when he simply lashed out at the peak of his anger. They would think it a step back in their fight against the Dark Lord – to loose the trust of their prophesized saviour was indeed something to worry; but it was right that they should come to Harry Potter, not the other way around. At least, they would start questioning themselves what else he had gotten out of Voldemort's mind when the snake face had possessed him – or what Voldemort had gotten out of Harry's; and it would cover any minor slips that could possibly occur in the future. For the rest, Harry would simply have to make sure that he did not mess up with something major.
Both men seemed occupied to think about the revelation Harry had made. No one was willing to break the silence that had descended upon them so suddenly.
"I'm truly sorry, Harry, that you think I failed you so." Dumbledore nodded sadly and watched the Gryffindor seriously. " It was never my intention to make you doubt my trust in you. I didn't want you to loose hope and the last time for you to be a child. I tried to do what I thought was the best for you." The old man spoke slowly in a bearing voice, as if to make sure that Harry would understand what he said, with the boy bathed in his stirred up emotions.
"My trust in you is implicit, Harry, though I'm not always able to show it the way you hope." It was obvious that the man waited for Harry to react, but the Gryffindor did not say anything. He just stared right back, defiance glinting in his eyes. Dumbledore sighed.
"You are aware that the war is to become fiercer. The opposing forces are gathering even now as we talk and take shape stronger than they did since years. The fate of the whole world will be determined in the following months and perhaps years. That you're to stand in the midst of the battle to bring the peace our people crave is neither your nor my choice, but it's prophesised that you have to be there and I'll see you there, Harry, by all means possible." The twinkle was like a blade as hard as a diamond, and deadly. "But I do trust you to want the best for our world and to do so with all your abilities. Never doubt my faith in you, Harry."
"Yes, sir. Thank you." Swallowing, Harry nodded faintly. He had his doubts and 'by all means possible' did not sound good in his ears. It was nice should he finally have the trust he had always wanted and needed. The only drawback was that Harry had no way to determine that this supposed faith was genuinely given and not just an attempt to lure him into feeling safe. It could very well be a trap. Did they play him out against… what? The old man would not get his trust back so easily, if at all. It was time to get some answers, even if Harry knew most of them already – and did not trust his headmaster to say what he really needed to hear. Was there a better time to test this apparent and implicit faith?
"Sir, I've some questions." Frowning cautiously, Harry gazed up to the old man.
"Ask away, Harry." The man twinkled and sucked on one of his countless lemon drops. "I'm certain we can light the dark hall of yours."
"Er… well, sir." Harry shifted uncomfortably, unsure where he should start. "I've heard students talk about some… weird things happening with their magic during the summer." Harry tilted his head doubtfully. "Can you tell me what that was?" He sounded uncertain if he should believe the headmaster's words and needed to tentatively test the trust he was supposedly getting.
"I believe you mean this magical outburst." Dumbledore said after a moment's consideration and a furtive nod towards his Potions Master. "It was a truly incredible thing, as such occurrences happen rarely and only with a lot of magical power to feed them. I believe," Dumbledore twinkled, "that the Daily Prophet had a whole paper full of… interesting possibilities why and how something like that could happen out of the blue. Every witch and wizard near enough felt it, after all."
"I didn't feel anything." Dumbledore gazed at him assessingly but did not say the obvious 'It happened while you were missing'.
"By the way, sir, what is a… magical outburst? I have never heard something like that mentioned before." Harry met the gaze questioningly, though he did not hide the lingering lack of trust.
"This question is easy to answer, Harry." The old man sent another furtive glance towards his Potions Master; and this time Harry turned far enough to see out of the corner of his eye the raised eyebrow the headmaster received in response. The bond gave not much information at all. Hate was there and apprehension. Harry frowned; not apprehension but rather extreme displeasure; though, Snape did not question whatever Dumbledore asked of him – at least not in front of a student, and never in front of a Potter. Harry turned his attention back toward the headmaster.
"A magical outburst is just what the name implies." Harry rolled his eyes. "It's an eruption of magic that happens when too much power is freed in too short a time. It happens mostly due to ambitious wizards' interference in the natural energy balance, but it can also happen when too much magic gathers itself in places that are especially receptive to magic." Dumbledore smiled grandfatherly when he saw Harry's confused gaze. "It's quite simple, Harry. Take Diagon Alley for example. It's a truly magical place. Every shop is filled with magic, every person walking through the streets is filled with magic. Let's assume all wizards and witches of the world would apparate there at the same time – never mention that they wouldn't fit in there – it would overload the place with too much energy and the magic would… explode quite similar to the one that sent its waves over the land during this summer."
"Then it wasn't the same?" This was really new information for Harry.
"As I said, Harry, most of those outbursts happen when a wizard interferes where he should not."
"Oh. You mean… Voldemort?" Harry frowned wide eyed. "But how did he do something like that?" Gryffindors were naturally curious. He had to be questioning, innocent, when he talked about the very thing they were most interested in – and it was safely away from that vision he never had or from the happenings in the Department of Mysteries. They did not need to suspect that he had to hide even more than they thought he did already.
"We don't know yet, Harry." He looked down hard on Harry as if to decide what to tell him. "It might well be that Voldemort carried out a ritual, certainly one of the darkest. It very well might have been only the backlash we felt when whatever he awoke was called into existence."
Harry looked doubtful. "So there is a… monster of some sort walking around now?" He could feel the sneer Snape pierced his back with. What he got through the mark seemed to indicate that Snape could barely prevent himself from commenting his naïve stupidity. Thank Merlin for grandfatherly headmasters. Harry blinked questioningly.
"Not necessarily a monster, Harry." Dumbledore only smiled indulgently. "Sometimes it's enough to change one thing into something else." Harry wondered what was to come now. Tom had quieted down and the pain in his head retreated to something more bearable. He could finally concentrate on what Dumbledore was trying to say.
"Last year, I think we agreed to… avoid secrets." The old man looked at Harry, waiting for a reaction and Harry smiled proudly and nodded with eagerness. The truth sounded good, but Harry knew that Dumbledore could tell people that the sky was really green with purple stripes – and everyone would believe it was the truth. There was no way to tell what that deceiving mad hat was coming forth with. With an extra twinkle for his spy and professor the headmaster winked the Potions Master forward.
For a moment it seemed as if Snape would rather stay in his corner, watching the conversation but not being part of it. Then he almost seemed to pull a face and Harry got a feeling of resentment and… amusement. Harry frowned. What could possibly be amusing?
Blinking, Harry watched when the man pulled back the robe and rolled up his sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark, which Harry had known to be there. He did not need to fake his astonishment, though. Dimly, he was aware that Snape did not like being openly stared at much more than Harry did, though Harry could not stop staring. Upon that pale, gaunt looking arm the Dark Mark seemed exceptionally ugly; though it was not the Dark Mark anymore. Harry glanced toward the headmaster, who wore a seldom seen expression of seriousness and… uncertainty as he too stared with narrowed eyes down at a dim, violet lightning bolt piercing a skull. Harry had never reckoned that the mark would change its appearance on every single Death Eater. He did not know what it meant.
"That…! It…! Has it…?" His loss of words was obvious. The emotion he caught through the mark held an ounce of satisfaction. It felt as if Snape had just got an affirmation of something. Bastard. Harry narrowed his eyes.
"It's changed!" He exclaimed finally when no one seemed to want to say anything; but his voice seemed unduly loud.
"How did this happen?" Harry asked in a more moderate tone. He really did want to know. Glancing up at Snape's face, Harry could as well have looked at a piece of stone. He did get back nothing at all through the bond. It might as well have been not there.
Harry watched the mark with mixed feelings. Snape must have screamed his throat raw the moment it started to change. Harry certainly had screamed himself raw, though he could not say when he had gotten that stupid tattoo. For hours his whole body had burned excruciatingly. There had been nothing that did not hurt, nothing else but pain. The mark he had only noticed when he was back at the Dursleys, long after Snape must have felt his arm being sliced into pieces.
Swallowing, Harry stopped that train of thought. Randomly, Tom was still testing the barrier for weak points; and it would do no good to remind him of what had happened that day of the ritual. There was no use to make him react even more violently.Harry did not need that, not when he was in the same room as Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts and leader of the Phoenix's Order, and the git.
"We really don't know that, Harry." Dumbledore said after a moment and motioned for Snape to cover his arm. "We know that it happened at the same time as the outburst, so it's very likely that both things are related to each other." Here his gaze grew more piercing when he watched Harry sitting back again; and Harry waited patiently for the other shoe to drop.
"All of it happened when you were missing from Privet Drive." There was the other shoe! Certainly, when that explosion and Snape's mark were linked, his disappearance was too.
Not a breath later Harry tensed reflexively, though he tried hard to keep his body relaxed and his eyes from narrowing accusingly. Just when Dumbledore said the last word Harry felt someone slipping into his mind right where he had left the small opening for one, who thought him unaware and easy to legilimize.