Harry Potter and the Golden Labyrinth

Book Seven Fanfic

Disclaimer – Anything that you recognise belongs to J K Rowling.

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers, you really encouraged me to write more.

Chapter Two – Temper

Harry was standing completely still; frozen and immobile. He felt his invisibility cloak flutter against his face, disturbed by his shallow breath. He watched in horror as a group of Death Eaters burst through the door. They looked around, bemused, then noticed Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was leaning heavily on the wall, his face pale grey. He tried to hide his pain, and talked bravely to the Death Eaters. Then Snape burst through the door. He took in the situation at a glance. Dumbledore suddenly noticed the man that he alone trusted to be good. Looking into Snape's eyes he pleaded for his life.

'Severus…'

Snape strode over and looked down at Dumbledore, the deepest loathing on his face. He raised his wand and spoke without hesitation.

'Avada Kedavara.'

A jet of green light shot out of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore in the chest. The old man crumpled around it, then flopped backwards and fell over the battlements. As the Death Eaters turned to go, Harry felt the spell break. He ripped off his invisibility cloak and screamed.

Harry woke, completely tensed up, caught in the emotion of that fatal moment. He was tangled in his sheets, breathing hard and sweating. Slowly, as he realised where he was, he forced himself to relax. Judging by the small amounts of light creeping around the curtains it was sill very early. Harry untangled himself and lay on his back, trying to get to sleep. But it was no use; all he could see was Dumbledore being hit again and again by that green light while Snape sneered at him.

Eventually Harry gave up with trying to sleep. He got up and dressed as quietly as he could, trying not to wake up Fred, George and Ron, and then crept out of the room. As he made his was down the stairs he could hear the snores of numerous people in alcohol-induced sleep. He smiled silently to himself as he imagined the fate that awaited them when they all woke up.

Downstairs in the kitchen Harry found that it was five o'clock in the morning. No one was awake due to the time they had stayed up until the night before. After grabbing a roll from the bread-bin, Harry headed outside.

The sun had already risen, and it promised to be another hot summer's day. The Weasley's garden was littered with chairs, tables, food, plates and bottles. It was a real mess and would surely take ages to sort out. As he walked around, Harry noticed movement on one of the buffet tables. Finishing his roll he headed over in time to see a short gnome run off with an armful of food.

Harry laughed as he watched the odd, ugly little creature run, startling several other gnomes who were also on the table. Most jumped off and started running away from him, but Harry managed to grab one. He hoisted it in the air by its feet and started swinging it in circles around his head. Once he thought the creature was sufficiently dizzy he lobbed it over the fence in the opposite direction of the tents. He watched as the creature staggered away in a wobbly line.

Harry spent the next hour de-gnoming the garden. It was satisfying work, and catching the gnomes was taxing enough to take his mind off his nightmare. At last he straightened up from searching the bushes for any signs of the little creatures. He stretched, unable to see anymore of them. Then he looked around for something else to do.

By the time Ron came outside at ten o'clock, the garden was much tidier then it had been the night before. The tables had been straightened and the litter had been picked up and shoved into numerous bin-bags. Dirty plates were stacked up on the kitchen table along with an army of glass bottles. Harry was just moving the last pile of stacked chairs over to the side of the garden.

Ron looked around, him mouth hanging open. Harry noticed him and walked over. 'D'you do all this?' Ron mumbled, obviously not fully awake yet.

'Yep.' Harry answered, purposefully over-cheerful and making Ron wince and hold his head.

'How long you bin up?'

'About five hours.'

At this comment Ron shook his head and clouted Harry around the ears. Then he turned and walked into the house, muttering something about painfully happy idiots making him look bad by doing all the work.

Harry followed Ron inside, laughing. No one else seemed to be up yet, although Harry had seen some movement over by the tents. Ron was sitting at the table, sipping a large mug of coffee and holding his head.

'Drink too much last night?' Harry asked brightly, making Ron groan in pain.

Slowly people started waking up and heading downstairs. Many of the adults were severely hung-over, and there was little conversation as they wandered around making tea and coffee. Harry was glad when Hermione came down and he could at last talk to someone who didn't wince at his every word. They headed outside to see several witches and wizards sitting outside he tents looking sorry for themselves. The pair offered to take tea and coffee over, and roped Ron into helping them.

As they approached, with several large pots of tea and coffee and a tray full of mugs, they were attacked by hoards of exhausted people. Hermione started pouring as quickly as she could, while the boys handed out cups. Once the pots were empty they headed back to the Burrow.

The rest of the day passed slowly, with people packing up, cleaning up and leaving. The garden was slowly returned to its original state and Hermione charmed the flattened grass in the dancing area to bring it back to normal, and the chairs and tables were removed. The tents were dismantled and the temporary residents Apparated or flew away.

By the evening it was just the Weasley's and Fleur's close family left, along with the best man Sam. Fleur and Bill were there as well. They were unable to have a honeymoon due to the war, but had promised each other that they would go on holiday as soon as they had the chance. Everyone was sat around the table eating a light dinner, now mostly recovered from the previous day's celebrating.

'One week until your birthday, Harry.' Hermione commented as she helped herself to potatoes.

Ron looked up, surprised. 'Is that all? I haven't got you a present yet.'

Harry just laughed as Hermione hit Ron on the arm, lecturing him about thinking in advance. 'You're not going to have a chance to get him anything now…'

'Its alright.' Said Harry, still laughing. 'It can be an I Owe You.'

Ron winked thankfully at Harry from behind Hermione.

'Anyway, what I was actually going to say is we haven't worked out what we are going to do on your birthday.' Hermione continued.

It was Harry's turn to look surprised. 'What do you mean by that?'

Hermione shook her head despairingly. 'It's your birthday Harry. Normal people celebrate their birthdays.'

Harry felt his insides freeze. His face turned to stone. He knew that she hadn't meant it that way, knew that he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't help it. 'But I'm not normal, am I?'

There was an uncomfortable silence between the three of them, although the rest of the table carried on chatting obliviously. The teasing smile on Hermione's face faded as she realised what she had said. 'Harry, I'm really sorry. I, it wasn't, I didn't…'

She trailed off as Harry stood up. 'I'm full.' He muttered, before turning and heading upstairs.

Ron looked at the untouched food on Harry's plate, then raised his eyes and met Hermione's worried gaze.

Harry threw himself on Ron's bed, pounding the pillow in frustration. He bit back angry tears, knowing that he was getting worked up about nothing at all. Hermione had only been joking, as any friend might. The problem was the joke had struck too close to home.

Harry wasn't normal, even for a wizard. At the age of one, he had survived a killing curse from the most powerful, evil wizard alive: Lord Voldemort. It was the same curse that had killed numerous skilled witches and wizards, including Harry's own parents, but it failed to kill the little boy. Instead it had rebounded on the wizard, stripping him from his body and causing him to flee.

Harry was given to his non-magical aunt and uncle to look after, to bring him up in safety away from the wizarding world. They were supposed to care for him as their own, and to tell him what had really happened when he was old enough. However, they hated wizards, and lied to and mistreated him. Harry had never been loved, never praised, never celebrated his birthday, until he had been rescued on his eleventh year.

A half-giant had handed Harry a letter offering him a place at Hogwarts, a wizard's school. Now, six years later, Harry had faced Voldemort in person four more times. Since then he had learned that it was his fate to kill, or be killed by, that same wizard. The lightning scar on his head, a result of the failed curse, marked him out as the Chosen One.

Harry sat up and sighed, his mind turning once more to the task he had been set. Last year he had discovered that Voldemort had split his soul into seven pieces, creating six Horcruxes, an evil so great that most books refused to even mention them. If he was to have any hope of defeating Voldemort then he must first find and destroy all of the Horcruxes. Even though he already had many clues, it seemed an impossible task. If only Dumbledore were here to help them.

Harry felt his annoyance start to subside slightly. He didn't return to the meal, not yet ready to face everyone's curious or pitying stares. Wanting to do something productive, he made his way over to Ron's cluttered desk and sat down. He picked up a page of notes in Hermione's handwriting, which were tattered from the continuous reading and scanned through it:

Horcruxes:

1. Riddle's Diary – Harry destroyed 1st year

2. Riddle's Ring – Dumbledore destroyed

3. Slytherin's locket – RAB(?) has it

4. Hufflepuff's Cup – Place unknown

5. A possession belonging to Ravenclaw/Gryffindor – Place unknown

6. Nagini – Wherever Voldemort is

7. Voldemort

Places to visit for information:

- Morfin's house

- Riddle's house

- Borgin and Burkes

- Riddle's Orphanage

Harry dropped it on the table. It didn't look very different from when Hermione had first written it a month ago. He looked at the other papers strewn across the desk. There were lists of spells for attacking and defending themselves, list of spells that there was a possibility of coming across, notes and notes trying to decipher who or what RAB was.

Harry picked up the one of the telephone directories that lay on the table. They had arrived from Hermione's parents, on her request, two days ago, but they had been far too busy to use them. There was a possibility that RAB could have had a telephone, although the note inside the locket suggested that he was dead now. Still, that was why they had got a few books from different years. Harry opened the one in his hands to 'B' and started searching through the names.

A bit later there was a tentative knock at the door. 'Come in.' Said Harry, not looking up from the list of names. Bachell C, Back C, Back D, Back J A, Backhouse A J,

The door opened and Ron followed Hermione into the room. They hovered nervously at the door, as if expecting Harry to snap at them. He carried on scanning the list, ignoring then. Backhurst A J, Backhurst E B, Backinsell A, Bacon A K,

'Harry?' Hermione asked in a quiet, apprehensive voice. 'Are you alright?'

Harry shrugged and carried on looking at the book, although his eyes no longer moved. He knew that he should apologise, he did feel ashamed of his reaction, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words. What did they expect him to act like when the fate of the wizarding world sat on his shoulders? The unjustness of the situation was threatening to overwhelm him again. Harry focussed on the page, forcing himself not to think about it.

He heard the bed creak as someone sat down on it. The other walked up and looked over his shoulder at the book. Bending down, Ron spoke quietly in Harry's ear. 'She's really upset.'

He straightened up and headed over to Pigwidgeon's cage, watching the little bird with his back to the room. Harry took a deep breath and counted to three, then turned around on his chair. Hermione was sitting on the bed watching her hands, which were fidgeting nervously in her lap. Although her hair was covering most of her face, Harry thought she looked like she had been crying.

Guilt washed over him that he had upset her so much, but it was soon followed by a wave of anger. How dare she cry when it was him that the comment had hurt? How dare she make him feel such guilt when he already had more then enough on his plate? How could they even consider making him apologise when he had done nothing wrong?

Harry turned back to the desk and started scanning the columns of names angrily. He had far more important things to worry about then some over-emotional girl. He had to find RAB. It was his responsibility, his duty, to kill Voldemort. He had no time to waste.

After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence only broken by the angry turning of pages, Harry heard Hermione get up and leave. He thought he heard sobbing as she ran down the stairs, but he close his mind to it. Ron turned around from watching the cage.

'It wouldn't have taken much Harry. We're your friends, but if you don't stop treating us like your enemies we won't stay this way much longer.'

He spoke calmly, in a controlled voice, but Harry could sense the anger emanating from him. When Harry made no move except to turn the next page so violently it ripped, Ron turned and left the room, leaving Harry all alone to fume.

A/N: Thank you to all reviewers.

Aiel Rouin – How can you be fluent in so many languages? I have been learning French since I was tiny, and I'm not even fluent in that. Thank you for your review, I am glad you liked it.

Pippin Witch - Thank you for pointing out about my repeating words. I know that I do it. I think of a word relevant to a couple of paragraphs that I really like, and it gets stuck in my head. I'll try and avoid it in future ;-)