Chapter Twenty Two: Voldemort Strikes Again

Harry couldn't believe it was happening, that it had happened. He was shocked beyond belief when he saw the Daily Prophet that morning. And the press! It was on and on about it, like about another sensation of Harry Potter, even a reporter was sent to take an interview from him. How could they do that! Just play with his sorrow like this? He couldn't find a place in such an enormous castle like Hogwarts to stay alone only for a second, just for a moment to face the truth, to get rid of those faces on every corner, pitying him. He couldn't even hear Ron or Hermione, who were always there for him to help or advice, but not now. Now he wanted to be alone, alone from the world both ordinary and magical.

His feet took him on their own accord to the Dueling Room. Harry was surprised himself by such a choice, but decided that that was the only place where nobody would pick on him with their meaningless words of sympathy and pity. He'll find there the unity he was seeking. Marko won't come any time soon because there were several hours before their lesson.

Harry fell on the stool and tears began to stream in cascades down his cheeks. 'He stroke again and I did nothing, absolutely nothing! Why play in these 'learning for the Great Battle' games, when innocent people die every day! And nobody does anything to prevent it!' Harry put his head on his knees because of exhaustion from crying and simply from the heaviness of his suffering.

His 'peace' was disturbed an hour later when Draco firmly stepped into the room ready for a good training session. He stopped on his tracks when he saw a sobbing ball in the center of the room. 'Crying Potter. What other surprises has Fate for me?' Draco thought in frustration. He walked towards Harry and asked, looking at his crown, "What the Hell are you doing, Potter?"

"Get out of here!" came Harry's muffled answer, but venom was undoubtfully heard in it.

"How impolite of you. I have all the right to be here, as you do," Draco said impatiently. No answer from Harry. "What happened to you now, Potter? You look like crap!" Draco said with contempt.

"They are…all dead…blown up," Harry stammered.

"What! Who is dead?" Draco asked slightly panicked. 'Don't make it be the Weasleys, please. Not the Weasleys. I can't let her to be hurt, not now, not ever. Please, God, if you are there, don't make it be the Weasleys.'

"The house of the Dursleys was blown up yesterday with a pretty Dark Mark above it," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"Thank God," said Draco with relief, looking at the ceiling.

"I thought so too, when I first read the news," Harry said shakily without tilting his head up, "But then… Why am I telling you this? You won't understand a thing," Harry stood up and began to drag his feet out of the room.

"And what are you going to do now? Crawl into your bed and stay there in your self-pity and misery till the end of an eternity!" Draco yelled at Harry's back, but he didn't react. When Harry was already at the door, Draco said with reproach, "And I thought better of you! How could I?" Draco shook his head. "You are and will always be just a little boy who takes cover behind the backs of teachers and friends!"

Draco was openly insulting him, trying to bring Harry from his helpless and hopeless trance. I am sure you can imagine the effect of such words, especially on Harry. He again saw in Draco his archenemy that mustn't get easily out of this.

"Oh yeah!" Harry turned and looked straight at Draco with red puffy eyes. "And what would you do if your family had been murdered!" he shouted back at him.

"I would take revenge," Draco hissed with steel shine in his eyes. Harry was taken aback by such sudden cold rage, but still didn't give up.

"And how would you do it? Just go to Voldemort and give him a lecture which you give me every time, about what a naughty boy he is!"

"I am taking my revenge right now, by standing in front of you," Draco said with his usual calmness and dignity.

"So that's why you're teaching me? To take revenge on Voldemort? For what? For not taking you under his warm wing?"

Draco closed his eyes to gain back as much composure as he could, he didn't want his rage to burst out – it was neither the time nor the place. He himself provoked Potter on such insinuations, but he was going out of control. Draco needed to do something to calm him down just a little bit.

"No, you are wrong, Potter," he began in a soft voice. "I want to take revenge on Voldemort for every innocent soul he tortured for fun and then threw away like rubbish, for people whose lives he broke, for ones who lost their relatives, beloved and friends after Voldemort put his filthy hands on them. Do you find such reason of my teaching you a worth one?"

There was a long pause. "Bullshit. You don't believe in stuff like that! And you are trying to persuade me that you have no personal interest in the whole ordeal?" Harry asked skeptically, but without hysterical notes.

"I've never said I don't," Draco answered with bitterness.

"You mean I need to torture you again to get the clear answer to my question?" Harry was back to his self again: kind and funny fellow, the only traces of his outburst were red eyes and ears.

"That's my student! Speaking of which," he glanced at his chain watch, "It's time for your lesson, Potter. Another, so favorite of yours, lecture is coming."

'Strange, he is acting like nothing happened. And still his answers bring even more questions, he always hides something. Maybe it is a habit already?'

Draco casually took his usual position before Harry's desk and waited for Harry to take his. With stuffed groans he did it. Harry hated lectures, and at times like these he felt like a real student, the awkwardness of the situation was that his teacher was not older than him.

Draco suddenly became very serious. "Let's forget about the previous encounter, like about a little, ummm…mistake and return to your first words to me today."

"You mean, "get out of here"?" Harry asked confused.

"No, you dolt, I mean your unfinished phrase about the change of your thoughts," Draco answered with slight irritation.

"Oh, that one," Harry breathed out.

"Yes, Potter, that one! I don't have God's patience, you know! I am not your consultant psychologist, but this event is directly connected with your training, so spit it out!" Draco took a few rapid breaths before settling his glance on Harry again.

"I just don't understand how," Harry said still confused.

"I'll tell you in due time, but your task for now is to sort your feelings and thoughts out. I am listening." Draco looked around the room trying to find a place to sit, but finding none, repeated Harry's experience by sitting on the floor.

"Errr, I…well, I was sitting at lunch with Ron and Hermione and owl post arrived, nothing unusual," Harry began reluctantly. "Hermione got the Daily Prophet and the front page was covered with a large picture of a house burnt to the ground. Hermione read the article out loud as she always does while Ron and I stuff out faces with food," Harry added with a small smile. Draco grunted.

"When she finished, my first feeling was of satisfaction. I thought, "Those idiots are gone for good. I am free to live wherever I like. No slavery from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, no teasing and insulting from Dudley. Just a free, simple life with people I like and who like me. No connection with the muggle world." But then it struck me! What the hell am I thinking! They were my relatives, the only family I got for Merlin's sake! I lived under their roof and shared their food for eighteen years! And they were just blown up; nothing was left of them or the house, not a piece." Tears again started coming to the surface. Harry sniffed a few times and then cleaned the tears with his sleeve.

Draco gracefully stood up from the floor and sighed. "Now, Potter, I'll try to explain to you how all this is connected. But still we need to start at the far end.

During our very first lesson I mentioned that everyone has his weak point, but you must have none. Unfortunately, you aren't God; thank the Founders for that. That's why you have your own weaknesses.

But you are a very lucky one, because your weaknesses are sources of your strength. You have friends, professors and other people who care for you and will help whenever you ask. You have a very thick connection, it isn't visible or has any materiality about it, but it is there nevertheless.

Do you know what Voldemort is famous for?" Harry only shook his head. "His methods of work, so to say. He can have any bad characteristic you want, but with one thing everybody agrees – he is not a fool." Draco said with conspiracy. "He promises to his followers to give them power, power to rule other people, or in other words to know others' weak spots. But at the same time Voldemort himself knows such spots of his every follower, especially future followers who aren't that willing to come into his ranks. Blackmail, cheating, lying, threatening, he'll do anything to accomplish his goal. That's why Dark Magic is restricted, because it isn't fair. It ruins the balance of magic in the wizarding world. In simple words, Dark Magic is when you get what you want without thinking about the consequences or about what you must first do to have the right to possess anything.

Voldemort made his move yesterday. He began to get rid of your weaknesses, people you care about, your family, the Dursleys, but he kills two birds with one stone: he also destroys a very powerful energy source of yours."

"How did you find out about that?"

"No big deal. Dumbledore told me."

"He trusts you with such information? Nobody but he and I know about it."

"He trusts me with his favorite student," Draco said matter-of-factly. "Back to the topic. How do you feel now, Potter? But don't hide anything."

"Well, I don't know exactly how to put it, there are so many emotions: empty, disordered, confused, hopeless, lonely, I don't know what else," Harry answered, squeezing every word out of him.

Surprisingly to him, Draco laughed. Loudly, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Merlin, Potter, what a fool you are!"

"And what is so foolish about my feelings? Every one in my place would've felt exactly the same way!" Harry shouted with a feeling of unfairness and rudeness of prying into his life.

"And that's the point, Potter! You play exactly into Voldemort's hands. He made his first strike and then another and another. They will die one by one and you won't be able to do anything. He'll do it again and again until he'll crush you into tiny pieces without even touching you. He'll give you the most horrible death: being alive with dead bodies around you. Do you really want this, Potter?"

Harry couldn't answer. All this was too hard for him. He can be the reason of people's death. Again. He knew he couldn't let anyone be near him or they will be in danger. The whole fifth year came back with its terrible events and deaths. One death in particular. The death of his Godfather. And he was the cause of that. How stupid he felt now!

"They weren't the first, Sirius was," Harry whispered.

"I don't think so," Draco said mysteriously.

"What!" Harry even stood up. "You can't even understand what I've lived through, when none other than your Aunt Bellatrix killed him!"

"She used the Killing Curse on him?"

"Well, no, but…"

"He fell behind the Veil, that's all," Draco finished casually.

Draco was quite near Harry now, but even if he wasn't, nothing could stop Harry from grabbing Draco's collar and shaking him several times.

"Are you telling me that he can be alive! You are not just joking or tormenting me?" Harry's eyes were wide, with hope, joy and fear at the same time.

"Precisely. And stop shaking me like a fruit tree!" Draco said with irritation, taking his hands rudely from his collar.

"Holy Gryffindor! How could such an awful day turn into the happiest day of my life!" Harry took head in his head and cried even harder.

"What is it with you?" Draco asked frowning. "You've gone mad or something?"

"I am happy!" screamed Harry, practically dancing around the room. "How can you not see it?" Harry turned his face to Draco, it was glowing with happiness.

"I am not blind. You like the feeling, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Harry agreed smiling. "Everybody does."

"I don't want to bring you back to Earth from your seventh Heaven, but listen to me closely," Draco began strictly. "If you want to save your happiness, save people who bring it to you. Take care of them, keep them close to you and make them happy too. Don't think that they'll be better off without you; this is the worst for you and for them. That especially concerns the new founded Seer and the Weasleys; they are the most appetizing piece for Voldemort. Always keep an eye on them."

"You know, it is really strange to hear such words from you."

"From a heartless bastard?" Draco asked bitterly.

"I didn't mean to say it in such words." Draco gave him an I-know-you-wanted-to look. "Well, maybe I did, but it is still strange."

"Life is a strange thing, Potter. You'll never know what waits for you around the corner. Even when you look around the corner, it is still invisible. Only when you fully rounded it, it falls on you with all its heaviness.

You can lie there and do nothing, wait until the weight of your problems smash you to a pulp and then into nothingness, but you can't do that!" Draco yelled, hitting the desk with his fist. "You must fight! Bare that weight along with you, struggling under it. It could be unbearable and push you down, but you can't give up! Crawl, but move! Move to the next corner, maybe improvement waits there for you. You must have hope, maybe just tiny, but hope. That everything will be all right and this is worth fighting for. Do you understand me, Potter? You have people who can help you to carry your weight; don't waste such opportunity." Draco finished quietly. "Don't waste it." Draco turned and began to pick up some objects from the floor.

Harry was dumbstruck. He'd never heard such words. Even from Dumbledore, who tried to encourage him in every way, sometimes even replacing a father for him. Still, one small thought wasn't leaving his mind. As he listened to Marko, it seemed to him that he was saying all that not only to Harry, but to himself.

"When did you become a philosopher, Marko?" Harry asked Draco's back.

"When I met you, the real you," Draco whispered.

"There are more Harry Potters?" Harry asked, but at once understood how stupid he must sound.

"It is quite a long story. I don't want to bother you with it."

"Has it any connection with our subject?"

"You can say so."

"Then go ahead. Our lesson isn't finished yet."

"Yes, definitely my student," Draco said with a smirk. "Ok. I'll tell you the most embarrassing moment of my life."

"It even exists?" Harry asked with raised eyebrows.

"Unfortunately, yes," Draco said taking a seat on the floor. Harry followed his example. From aside it looked like they were having a picnic.

"It happened at the beginning of the sixth year. I learned all the theory and was eager to use it in a real life. And Hogwarts was the greatest field for practice. You can easily guess what three people I was mostly interested in. Weasley was the first to become my guinea pig, but I didn't find anything very important. Then I saw the closed Inner Eye of Grander. I was a little startled by that discovery, but thought that it was quite useful to possess such information even if I shared it alone. After that, when I thought that nothing could surprise me more, I collided with your magical aura." Draco turned his head to make intent eye to eye contact with Harry. "I almost fell on the floor, but leaned on the wall in time. I was thrown by some powerful force which I couldn't quite place at that time. Only after a few days of observation I understood that it was coming from you and you alone."

"Me?" Harry asked with perplexity.

"Yes, you the Boy-Who-Lived. When I acknowledged that fact, I thought, "He can throw me aside while chatting with his sidekick and without even looking at me. Still he doesn't know a thing about it!" That was bad news to me; to found out that tales about your strength and power aren't just some flannelettes. Knowing such fact gave me an uncomfortable feeling."

"The fact that there is someone more powerful than you?" Harry asked smiling knowingly.

"If you put it this way," Draco said slowly. "But yes," Draco said moving his glance on the floor to the spot on the floor beside his right knee.

"That's why you were so quiet during the sixth year? I thought you'd lost your tongue or something," Harry said trying not to laugh.

"It sounds so easy to you, Potter. But at that time the thought that disturbed me mostly is that not everything is as it seems or must be, especially must be to me. I was waited to be the strongest, the toughest, the best, but…it wasn't so anymore and never will be. It was not a pleasant realization, Potter, especially nobody except me wanted to submit with it," Draco finished tiredly.

Then he looked at his chain watch again. "The lesson is up, Potter. Do you remember the words that Snape told you in our first potions' class?" Harry gave him an are-you-crazy-of-course-not look. "His words were; 'you can't be only a celebrity to have good grades.' Referring to our case; you can't just have powers for the victory, but you must be able to rule and control them." Harry nodded firmly, showing his agreement. "What was Granger's prediction then?" Draco asked conversationally, standing up from the floor.

"Dragon fang can cut the world comprehensive darkness, but only with sharpening."

"Hm, sharpening…Well, we'll sharpen it all right. Prepare for the next time, Potter. You won't have any lectures you dread so much. There will be a small practice," Draco said with a spark of evil mischief in his eyes.

Seeing it, Harry decided to really prepare, because only Merlin knows what can Malfoy made up for this practice.