Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret

Author: Japhu

Beta Reader: Nagi

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

A/N: Thank you all for reviewing.

Toki Mirage: You'll have to wait and see. ;)

The Wyrd Sister: I'd say it will be a long story, but as I tend to be wrong it will probably be a loooong story. I'm honestly not sure (not everything is going to plan and plot), but looking at my notes I'd say we have just stepped out of the front door. So yes, safe them if you want to.

Tanaraza: Some runes will certainly need to be drawn, but let's see what Harry finds out first; maybe I'm wrong. If my best friend were scarce more than normal I'd wait a day or two to see if she gets her problem solved on her own (as she obviously wants to when she doesn't come to me for help). Only after that I'd bind her to a chair and tickle out what she's trying to hide, so I don't think they're blind, but hoping he confides in them without being tickled to death first.

Chapter 35 – Chin Up

When Harry crept out of his hiding place he felt like death warmed over, but it had been a success. He was still himself, though he could not possibly say for how long he was going to remain this way if this fight kept going on for much longer. Tom was at least just as stubborn as Harry. Harry did not think for one moment that Tom would just stop now when Harry was barely being able to keep the status quo. The same way Harry knew how much of his magic Tom actually put into an attack Tom would be able to say of Harry. His headache did not diminish either.

Harry was weary of mind and heart when he straightened himself. Then he stepped into the common room, certain that Ron and Hermione were waiting for him anxiously to explain his rush almost an hour ago. And he was right. His friends' eyes followed him searchingly while he made his way over to them. Harry slumped into the armchair with a heavy sigh of relief, overusing it to make it seem as if he was not nearly as drained as he felt. His legs were especially lucky not to have to carry his weight around anymore.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione was the first one break the silence.

"Yes." He scratched his head sheepishly. "It was just another dizzy spell."

"You nearly fell flat on your face!" came the cool objection right back and a frown settled on Hermione's face when Harry simply shrugged her worries away with the grin that he seemed to think opened all the doors for him.

"You did eat the food, didn't you?" Ron sounded as if he already regretted having given it to Harry, though he too could not prevent a bit of worry from showing through.

"Yep, sorry." Harry pulled a face. "I ate it on my way to Dumbledore." Actually Harry had thrown it away. Food was not a thought that agreed with him as of yet. "It helped me think." Harry leaned back and closed his eyes with a moan that was only half for show.

"What did he say?" Hermione again. She was too curious for her own good.

"I wasn't seeing him." Harry returned Hermione's gaze regally. "I stopped on the way and came, after long and difficult thinking, to the conclusion that he would just shove his lemon drops in my face and push me right back out of the door."

"I see." She sounded analytical. "Where have you been all this time?"

"Am I under cross-examination or something?" Harry crossed his arms. "It may come as a surprise to you, but I can hold my temper. I cooled down before I even reached his corridor. You might want to congratulate me, by the way. By the end of this year I'd imagine I'll be rather good at that." His eyes laughed to take the hurtful brunt out of his words, and Hermione smiled tentatively back at him to say the message was received. It would not be good to have another row just after their minds had cooled down somewhat.

"Well, what did Dumbledore want in his letter?" Ron asked rather bluntly.

"Something," Harry said. "Something you don't know."

Ron grimaced. "That's somehow obvious, isn't it?" He was not really in the mood to bear Harry's attitude, still looking at him from the side to see if he would fall on his face anytime soon.

"You don't appreciate it, Ron. It doesn't happen often that I know something that you don't know!" Suddenly Harry grinned. "Ha. Let's play!" he said with obvious delight, but Ron only looked confused.

"Play what?"

"I know something that you don't know!"

"What?" Ron resembled a mooncalf very well with his open mouth and staring eyes. "Can't you talk in a way that ordinary folk can understand you?"

"It's a child's play in the Muggle world." Hermione caught on.

"Huh?"

"I have to think of something we both know," Harry explained playfully, yesterday's anger forgotten. "She has three goes to find out whatever it is, if she doesn't after the third time I can set her a task she's going to have to do. If she does, she gets to tell me what to do. The only difficulty is that I have to pack my hints in rhymes sort of." Harry grinned.

"Okay, let's do a round. Hermione?"

"All right Harry, I just wanted to finish this essay."

"Take a break, girl. Come on." Harry shut her book and smiled charmingly. "Do you want to hear my first hint?"

Sighing, Hermione turned up her nose. "All right, Harry." She set herself properly to listen. "Tell me. Don't forget the rhyme, though."

"My first hint: It's something crazy, not always real, it does as it likes no matter you feel."

Ron blinked stupidly, but Hermione wore a thoughtful frown.

"Time?"

"Wrong answer. Two to go." Harry grinned. Hermione was much too much intelligent. Her thought pattern was too complex. Maybe Ron would have a better chance to riddle it out. "Here's my second: It's twinkling with knowledge, it's starry and bright, but are you to oppose it you'll have to hide."

"That's easy. Stars."

"No, Hermione." Harry frowned. "It is a long time since you played that, isn't it?" At Hermione's questioning gaze he elaborated: "You have forgotten to take the first hint into account."

"I did not! Stars are not always what we see, you know? A lot of them aren't even there anymore, though we still see them or think we do."

"Well, okay. I'll give you that."

"Now tell me your last hint." She seemed eager to get it over with so she could go back to her essay.

Complying her wishes, Harry began. "Sometimes you'd think it, but there is more, that the thing I look at is as dumb as a door."

"Oh that's not fair, Harry!" It took her less than ten seconds to come up with the answer. "That's not giving a hint, that's called telling the answer." For once she was angrier about the fact that Harry had made it that easy, than being angry about badmouthing a teacher – the headmaster even.

"Sorry. The answer?"

"Dumbledore, of course."

Ron scoffed. "Great rhyming, Harry. But I'll stay with chess. It works your mind without having to think of some crazy lines."

"Did you never hear the saying that the way is the goal?"

"No," Ron said bluntly and Harry shrugged.

"Well, then not. Let's go play chess." He drew a deep breath. They could say what they wanted; Harry just did not like Dumbledore anymore. The whisper that warned him to stay on his guard with that old twinkler was not dissipating – far from it; after the talk it only got more urgent. However, this silly game certainly had put their attention to other things. Inwardly, Harry gave himself a pat on the back when Hermione opened her book; though he delayed it as she did not read just then but instead looked over to where Ron and Harry set the figures up.

"Oh, and Harry?" A pawn in his hand, the dark haired boy looked at her from over the rim of his glasses. "Your task is to stop badmouthing the headmaster and to tell us what Professor Dumbledore wanted from you."

Blinking, Harry set the pawn on his rightfully earned field, before looking back to Hermione. "You can give only one task, Hermione."

She was visibly split. "Then tell us what was in the letter." She frowned demandingly and clapped her book shut with an unusual show of aggressiveness. Harry grinned.

"I'm glad you chose this one." His teeth showed at Hermione's confused expression as he fumbled to fish the crumbled parchment out of his pocket.

"You are?" she asked uncertainly.

"Of course. I'd be hard pressed to say something nice about that old man." And he pressed the letter in her hands. "It's not as if he'd tell me a secret or something." He shrugged. "I have simply been given notice to meet with Madam Pomfrey some time today. They want to check if someone put me under curses or some such nonsense." He snorted.

"Because no one knows if something happened. It's only prudent to see if something's wrong." Hermione read over the short note, nodded thoughtfully and gave it back. Harry thought that it would have been much better if they had done that straight away after he had come back from his week's absence, not that he would point that out to Hermione, who seemed to be in total agreement with the headmaster. So Harry shrugged and turned back to Ron, who was waiting impatiently for him to make his next move, rather put out by Hermione that she interrupted the flow of the game.

"It says that Madam Pomfrey's waiting for you to show up for the check up."

"I know." Harry's hand hovered over a bishop, but at Ron's widening grin he pulled his hand back and set a pawn instead. However, there was no way to win this when he was with his full mind on the game, there was no chance to win when Harry did do everything not to fall over, tired from a sleepless night and exhausted from constant pain and an overly magical exertion.

"Why are you not going now?" Hermione watched him expectantly. "Then you have it done."

"Now?" Harry looked from her to Ron and pointed to the chessboard. "I'd rather not. I have to give Ron a scare at first." Ron glanced at him incredulously, but that was not Harry's problem. Tom was still there, gathering himself for a new round in a fight that seemed strangely even balanced. Harry feared what should happen if he did not find the time or possibility to get himself out of other people's sight when the next attack came or what Pomfrey might find when she put him under a scan. However, in some way Hermione was right. Momentarily Tom was rather quiet, though the way this day had gone until now there was no guarantee that it would stay such. So why not now? Harry would not find a way to prevent Pomfrey's scans in the evening.

"All right." Harry shrugged. "After we have finished this game." With an agreeing nod Hermione turned back to her book. She knew as well as Harry that this game of chess would be over in less than five minutes if Ron set his mind to it.

"Hurry, Ron, before Harry thinks of something else he'd rather do."

"Give a man a break, Hermione." Ron glowered at her. "You're taking away all the fun of beating Harry if I'm not even allowed to do it slowly." Harry grinned and two minutes later he was beaten soundly. Feeling Hermione's intent gaze on him, Harry stood up with a sigh. He moved slowly to prevent himself tripping over his feet.

"Well, I guess I'll go then." He still did not want to, but Dumbledore had not asked, he had ordered, so good little Harry did what he was ordered to do.

"I'll go with you." Her book snapped shut. She had just waited for Harry to get a move on. Harry frowned at her.

"Yeah, well, then I'm coming too."

"Don't you have to do your homework? I didn't see you doing the DADA essay."

"Oh, come down, Hermione." Both boys threw her a look that for once managed to shut her up quite well. "You aren't mother of anyone here." Her cheeks tinged pink, but she did not have another objection to Ron coming along. Harry closed his mouth. He guessed that she had wanted to grill him about something or other. Sometimes she really could be a pain in the ass, but had she always been this obvious? He would do well to remember to make Ron his shadow for the days to come when she did not want him within hearing range she would not start with him there.

The walk towards the hospital wing was a quiet affair. Ron and Hermione had taken Harry into the middle, the former talking about Quidditch, and the latter glancing at him searchingly whenever he gave one of his nonchalant comments. Only when Ron asked him if he would try for captain Harry chose to cough out loud to clear his throat rather than starting a new topic that was in for high temper in the hallways about why he still was not allowed to play.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when they entered the corridor to the infirmary. His friends were already too much for his nerves. The headache would be his death and Pomfrey's questions were not going to help either. Still, everything was better than his friends bearing down the strength Tom had not managed to. Harry would have denied it, but he all but ran the last meters to the infirmary. It was high time to take a breath, and foremost to find a place to sit down so his legs would stop trembling.

"Madam Pomfrey." Harry sat down on the bed that should have pinned his nametag above the head post. "Professor Dumbledore said you're waiting for me?"

With narrowed eyes the woman stepped away from her sideboard full of potions and other stuff she needed to heal the minor complaints of the general student body and came down onto him like a bird that had founds its prey. In front of Harry she stopped, watching him intently before she jerked around to his friends.

"You two wait outside." Neither one of his friends moved. "Out, now. I don't need you loitering around. Or do you have a problem? Do you need to take a potion?" Ron grimaced and shook his head. Most potions came from Snape's stores and those should never be swallowed without the real need behind.

"No thanks, Madam Pomfrey." He pulled at Hermione's robe. "We'll wait outside." Ron pulled the hesitant girl behind.

"He nearly lost consciousness, Madam Pomfrey." Hermione told her with calculating eyes and worry shining through.

"Is that so, Potter?"

"I'm just feeling a bit dizzy," he announced with a murderous glare at Hermione. He was glad to see that even Ron pulled her further with much more vigor, his glare at least as dark as Harry's. Then Ron was gone, Hermione still in his grip with a halfway apologizing glance at Harry. There would be no hard feelings between them. Harry knew she had done that because she worried, but even though he would not hold it against her – not openly – he would not forget it either. He nodded to her, smiled and turned back to his inquisitor when the door fell close behind her.

"I missed breakfast and didn't have much for dinner yesterday, either. That's all, Ma'am." Harry did not even attempt his Gryffindor smile. What worked with McGonagall was useless with this old dragon. He grimaced and tried not to let on that his head was splitting open and the dull thud of the blood in his ears was back.

"Are you trying to starve yourself, Potter?" Pomfrey grumbled all the while she waved her wand about him, her eyes keen on the results that floated in the air next to her.

"Er… No?" Harry suppressed a nervous cough. That woman had nearly worse a temper than Ron. She was not a person to cross without later regretting it. Harry had never been easy around her, so she was not too suspicious that something was off – not yet anyway. At her dark look Harry shook his head with more conviction.

"No, Ma'am. Of course not." He shrugged sheepishly. "I had a rather …intense conversation with headmaster Dumbledore, though." He grimaced and held his breath, never leaving her wand out of his sight that still pointed straight at him. "We talked about Voldemort and stuff like that. You know, that's not really encouraging any appetite I might have had." He pulled a face to underline that thought.

"Well, Potter, that's understandable, but be certain to attend lunch and dinner in time today. I can't find any curses you could have caught during summer, so you're nearly ready to leave." Her eyes narrowed even more when Harry's lips twitched maybe with too much relief showing through before he pulled his brows together.

"Nearly?" Harry fidgeted nervously.

"There's this little burn on your shoulder, Potter. I'd like to have a look onto that before you're making yourself rare again."

"Oh, that." Harry shrugged off his robe and T-shirt and glanced at his shoulder. If he concentrated he felt it hurting, but not as much as yesterday. Or maybe his headache was simply lots worse and deadened him to any other pain. It still looked gross, though.

"Whatever did you try to do, Potter?"

"I was trying to make breakfast." Harry shrugged. "I wanted to do it like the cooks in the television shows, you know." He gave a sad sigh. "They throw it up and catch it with the pan after it turned in the air. I guess there's a reason they do it with pancakes and not with bacon, isn't there?" She gazed down at him to make sure he did not try to make fun of her, then she nodded, though her look was still not lightening while she put some burn-healing paste onto the small injury. She waited a moment to see if it took effect, and the blisters vanished so fast you could watch them doing so.

"That would be number one, Potter." She put her hands at her hips and Harry barely refrained from flinching back when she moved suddenly to take his chin into her hand, turning his head to the left, the right and back again. Then she sat down next to him and scrutinized him darkly, worry increased the wrinkles on her forehead. She still did not ask too many questions, but now she seemed to expect Harry to tell her on his own, but what?

"Ma'am?" Harry blinked uncertainly, fast to fish for his T-shirt to feel more on an even level and to get the hell out of her grip, though she still stared at him in that unpleasant way.

"You are aware that everything we talk about here is under medical secrecy? Beyond the fact that I found no curses put upon you by any lord I'm not obliged to tell Professor Dumbledore anything of what is going on as long as a student life is not in danger." Harry swallowed. He did not have to fake his weariness. "You look quite weary around the eyes, Potter. Although I'm certain that's not a curse your exhaustion goes above a simple …loss of appetite."

"Ma'am?" Harry tried to think fast.

"A good night's sleep will bring you back to health soon enough, but your magic is dangerously drained, Potter." Harry gazed at his shoulder. The paste was gone and the burn only a red patch of skin like it had been on the first day. He was aware that the mediwitch was waiting for an answer, but Harry was at a loss. What did she expect him to have done to himself to get into such a state voluntarily?

"Your scans said that?" Harry shrugged into his T-shirt, using the moment when he was buried in the cloth to get his expression under control.

"I understand that you're under high pressure, Potter. Your situation is clearly special and not to be taken lightly, but you mustn't let that mislead you."

Harry clasped his hand, looking guilty and as if he knew what she was talking about. She might think his hands trembling was a sign of this magical exhaustion she was talking about, though Harry really did not feel exhausted, just tense as a steel nib, highly alert and ready to pounce at the slightest hint of danger. To have her all worried and caring was giving him creeps. This must really be serious. If he just knew what she was waiting for him to say. He doubted that she would let him leave anytime soon otherwise. Harry opened his mouth and closed it with a sigh. To confess a mistake he had made was never easy, especially not if he did not know what that mistake could possibly have been.

"You're not the first one to press for early maturity, Potter." She sat down next to him. "During my career I have seen similar cases as yours."

"Oh!" Harry looked up at her curiously. You could actually do that? Then he blinked. "You have?" Harry really doubted that.

"What you're doing with your magic is highly dangerous, Potter." Her gaze was intent to see if Harry was actually aware of the danger.

"It is?" Harry would have to search for some books on early maturity. Maybe he could get his full powers a bit early. At least he would possibly be able to control the magic he had a bit better than he managed currently.

"Mr. Potter!" It did not sit well with her that the boy did take the danger so lightly.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I was doing some …experimenting. I've read something about wizards' maturity and, well …" His shoulders drooped.

"Things like that have to come naturally, Potter." Now as it seemed that Harry actually saw the fault in his doings she was no longer scowling at him.

"I know, Ma'am. I won't try to find out how long it might be until I hit my maturity. I swear." He gazed pleadingly up at her when she scrutinized him doubtfully. "And I won't try to bring it about by force either."

"Yes. We will have some serious talking to do, should that not be the case, Potter."

"I understand, Ma'am." Harry bowed his head.

"I hope so, Potter. A wizard's maturity is no thing to play with, remember that. In older times, when we had not so good a watch over children, it happened that some died if they came too soon or too suddenly into their power." Harry frowned.

"But I thought that it comes naturally." He tilted his head. "Didn't you just say that?" He blinked innocently to prevent an angry retort.

"A shock, something life threatening or any other situation where the child's magic is …open to magic can sometimes lead to a too early release. The growing body is not able to hold the new power. Most of these children never learn to control their magic. If their magic is especially strong they might die. As I said, Potter," she handed him a vial filled with a gooey, mud colored substance, "things like that are nothing you should play with."

Put neatly back into his place, Harry nodded and swallowed in silence. He had a lot to think about. It was a pity that she had not come out and downright told him how you could actually 'press for early maturity'. Maybe he had gone through his maturity already. It had not killed him, so it was all right. Harry would surely get past this control thing. He just hoped it was all, and that it had really been his maturity, released before its time due of that mad man …mad snake. Harry shook his head.

"Can I go now, Madam Pomfrey?" He followed her every movement when she pulled out her wand again.

"A moment, Potter. I'd like to see if that Potion worked correctly."

"Er… what was that, by the way?" Harry grimaced. "It tasted horrible."

"A new invention of Professor Snape. A modification of Pepperup Potion combined with a general Healing draught and the necessary nutrients your body needs to recuperate." Harry frowned darkly. "But I'm sure you're not that interested in potions." The stern woman really looked as if she could barely contain her smile. It must be all around the school – well, at least the staff – that McGonagall tried to get Snape to teach the son of James Potter in Potions.

"That's strange." Another minute later a frown settled onto her face.

"What is?" Harry would rather not try all of his luck at once.

"How are you feeling, Potter?"

"Fine." Harry shrugged.

"In any way better than before you took that potion?"

"Er …" There really was no need to lie. She knew the answer already. "No, Ma'am."

"This potion should have taken effect immediately. Here Potter." She gave him another vial. "That's a Pepperup Potion as you know it. I can't give you anything else right now."

"I don't have a cold, Ma'am," Harry objected.

"It's not only for colds, Potter." She smiled tightly. "Swallow that and you're free to meet your friends. And no more experimenting, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, Ma'am. I won't do that again." Harry did as she wanted under her watchful eyes without protesting once and made as fast as he could to get out of the infirmary. He was still slipping back into his robes when he was already on his way out of the hospital wing, Ron and Hermione hot on his heals.

"I really don't like that place." He shuddered. "I have nothing against Madam Pomfrey, but I'd rather not have to see her again."

When the door closed Madam Pomfrey was still staring at the place where Harry had been. Had Harry not been in such a hurry to get away from her and her scans he would have noticed that there had been no sign of steam coming from his ears, as there should have been after swallowing a whole vial of Pepperup Potion. But then, Harry was not too keen on potions, so maybe he would still not have noticed that this potion did not work any better than the one before.

Harry found it rather interesting that the mediwitch had said nothing about his headache. The pain was also nothing physical, otherwise she would have caught an echo with her scans, at least Harry thought so. Stupid Tom. It felt much too much physical.