Authors Note: The Plot is mine but everything else belongs to J.K. Rowlings. Enjoy!
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Fear Me Not
The train arrived at Hogwarts just as night was settling in, shrouding everything in darkness and shadows. The gleam of the Hogsmeade Station lights could be seen from almost two miles away. Students who saw the lights quickly passed the words on. Soon the news had traveled around and almost all of the first years whose anxiety had flooded their compartments began to spill into the hallways. Older students, who had been missing Hogwarts, broke into excited chatter about what they were looking forward to the most this coming year and wondering who the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher might be. When a weedy looking third year poked his head in to inform Cho and Harry about the Hogsmeade lights, it was all Harry could do to keep from sighing with relief. The third year left and Cho looked at Harry glumly.
"Oh, Harry, I wish we had more time to talk. You've barely said a word." Cho said, still drying her eyes from the fountain of fresh tears that had erupted over the past few hours.
"It's ok; I don't really have anything to say." Harry said aloud, and then thought to himself, 'Not that it would have mattered if I did because there was no way I could get a word in with you prattling on.' Immediately after thinking this, he mentally scolded himself for being cruel. However, he was slightly irritated with Cho now because she had not stopped talking the entire train ride. She had even talked about what a great dancer Cedric was and how he had made the Yule Ball a night she would never forget. She told Harry all the intimate details about her relationship with Diggory nonstop. She had even continued to talk while their changed into their school robes (eyes shut tightly on both parties). He forced another smile while he stood up so Cho could wrap her arms around his neck in a friendly embrace.
"You're such a good friend for listening to me prattle on," she started, emotion welling up in her voice, "it's just that you're the only person who could possibly understand what I'm going through. After all, you watched him- him, oh Harry!" She burst into tears again and kissed Harry on the cheek before quickly leaving the compartment. Harry blushed, but purely out of frustration. Glad to finally be alone, Harry sat back down by the window and waited silently for the train to completely stop. Once it did, Harry reluctantly stood up and eased open the compartment door. Surprisingly, there was no one there.
It was quiet and eerie, immediately filling Harry with unease. He quickly drew out his wand and began slowly walking towards then end of the train. He tried to peak through the windows of the sliding doors but they were all covered, and after trying some of the door, realized that they were all locked. Suddenly feeling as though he should not be out in the hall, he turned around to go back to his compartment when his scar began to tingle, then to throb, and as he neared his empty compartment, it seared with pain.
"Potter," a voice hissed from behind him, "Crucio!" It reverberated off of the walls and Harry was struck in the back with what felt like a red hot knife that continued to stab him repeated all over his body. He could feel his body begin to spasm and his eyes roll up into his head as the curse continued to terrorize his body. When finally the pain receded, Harry's body was to numb and sore to move.
"Get up, boy." The voice commanded and Harry slowly got to his feet and saw before him a figure he had never wanted to see. Lord Voldemort stood at the end of the Hall, his slatted eyes narrowed with hatred and amusement. Harry felt his strength come back to him as he stood and defiantly stared right back at the Dark Lord, fearless. "I've played too many games with you, Potter, when I should have just killed you. I will play no more. This is the end." Voldemort raised his wand but before he could shout the killing curse, Harry jumped forward and screamed, "Expelliarmus!"
Out of pure shock, Voldemort was thrown back and Harry dashed forwards and grabbed the other wand. Just as he laid his hand on the wand, he felt a cold hand grab the back of his neck and heard the words, "Legilimens," and the hall fell together into a blur of colors, leaving Harry practically blind. He could see flashes of last year's events. He saw Professor Umbridge 'coughing' to get Professor McGonagalls attention, and McGonagall snapping at her. He saw Draco stifling a laugh and mouthing the words 'remedial potions' and looking as though it were the happiest day of his life, after interrupting one of Harry and Professors Snapes Occulumency lessons.
Harry was trying to struggle and fight the intrusion, but his mind felt too weak to resist. He saw Kreacher telling him that Black was gone. He saw himself in the Department of Mysteries, he saw himself fighting the Death Eaters. He saw Sirius Black, looking stiff and lifeless, as he fell through the black curtain and vanished. Harry saw himself in the forest, not remembering this, he stopped fighting Voldemort and became curious and on where he was headed in the forest.
"Yes, yes, just a little closer now." Harry heard, as though the voice was whispering into his ear. It was at that moment that Harry realized he had an opportunity to break free and attack. Fighting his desire to see what lay in the woods, Harry gripped his wand tightly and in one swift movement turned, knocked Voldemorts hand away and shouted "Crucio!" Concentrating all of his hate and anger to flow through his wand at the Dark Lord. The bright imagine of the hall came back to Harry as though someone had turned a switch on. He watched as Voldemort stumbled back and silently bared the attack but Harry could only hold on for a short time. As Voldemort got slowly to his feet, Harry grabbed his wand and ran towards the door at the end of the train.
Harry broke through the door and fell forward, bracing himself with the palms of his hand. He saw his wand slide from out of his grip and quickly scrambled to his feet, ignoring the blood dripping from his fingertips. He gripped his wand tightly and started to run.
"Get him; do not let him reach the gates!" Harry heard Voldemort cry and as he glanced over his shoulder, he saw four Death Eaters chasing after him. Harry heard a loud crackle and jumped to the side, thinking it was a curse but then realizing that it was lightening. He looked upwards and saw that angry gray clouds had covered the night sky and looked ready to burst. When they did, moments later, the downpour was so thick that Harry could not see two feet in front of him. He felt the water soak through his robes and chill his skin. His teeth began to chatter and his glasses fogged up. He kept running, not really knowing what direction he was headed and too scared to stop and check. Harry thought he heard angry shouts crying from behind him, so he forced himself to run harder even though he could no longer breathe. His lungs were straining for air and it came in rare gulps and gasps, but he was determined not to stop. He was determined to live. He could see something dark in front of him and he raced towards it, praying that it might be some form of shelter. As he neared it he recognized it as the Forbidden Forest.
With a second wind, Harry took off with a new burst of strength only to trip over a root that he had not seen. Harry stumbled forwards again but this time, he hit his forehead on a rock, sending a blinding pain through is head and blinding his slightly. As the fuzzy images started to come back to Harry he looked down at the rock that was completely crimson, stained with blood. Harry reached up and touched his forehead and felt a nasty gash that was continually spewing forth fresh blood. With his last ounce of strength he got to his feet and moved into the shelter of the forest.
The rain was much lighter in the forest because the tall tree branches above him created a sort of roof. Harrys robes were tore and covered in dirt and blood, but he was hardly aware of it. He felt weak and dizzy, from exhaustion and blood loss. He still didn't know here he was going but he knew that it wasn't far. He walked for what felt like an hour when he felt a nudge from behind. Harry's dull sense perked slightly and he reached for his wand as he turned around. With a mixture of relief and anxiety, he saw what had nudged him. It was a thestral.
A pair of blank white, shining eyes were visible through the gloom as was the dragonish face, neck, and the skeletal body of a great, black winged horse. Harry wondered why the thestral seemed so interested in him and then realized that he was bleeding uncontrollably. Harry fell to his knees out of weakness, as the thestral paused in front of him. The magnificent animal bet its head forward and, to Harry; it felt as though the creature was kissing his wound. Almost instantly Harry felt his body recover some of its lost energy. He reached up to his forehead and found that his injury had been healed. Harry racked his brain for any kind of mention that thestrals had the ability to heal but when he could remember nothing he thought to himself, 'I suppose Hagrid forgot to mention that one, or maybe he didn't know.'
'He doesn't know,' said a voice that was deep and warm, and spoke directly in Harry's ear. 'There are a great many things that Hagrid does not know about us. That no one knows about us.' Harry heard the voice as if the speaker had been sitting right next to him but as he looked around his saw nothing except the thestral who looked amused.
"You, but, I don't," Harry said aloud, unwilling to believe that the thestral was the voice inside his head. The thestral moved gracefully forward but Harry moved away, not knowing what to think. There was a crackle of lightening one again, and the rain pounded harder at the forests leafy roof.
'Do not fear me, Young One,' Harry heard the voice again as the thestral sat patiently before him. 'You have a great many enemies but I am not one of them. Of all the things you must fear in the world, I am not among them. So fear me not, and listen to what I say.' Harry suddenly felt soothed by the voice and moved to rest up against a tree. He squinted in the darkness, looking past the thestral for any signs of movement but saw none. 'There is nothing in this forest as of now that would attack you in my presence.' The voice said again and Harry couldn't help but wonder whose voice it was exactly.
'I suppose, if it is a name you seek, I am named Beren.' Harry looked at Beren and saw that while Beren did seem very intimidating, there was also something very calm about him. Harry felt his eyes beginning to close but then snapped them back open, looking around suspiciously. Beren walked over to Harry and lay beside him. 'Rest Young One, there is no danger near. Friends approach but not for a time. Sleep for now until they arrive, you are in no condition to find them.'
Harry longed to argue with Beren when he decided against it. The whole situation seemed surreal to him; as if it were all a dream. However, the blood and the pain told Harry that this was much more than a dream, but a nightmare. With a final look into the darkness, Harry closed his eyes and shifted slightly against Beren. He could feel Berens body move as he breathe but there was no pulse and no warmth, only cold scales. After a few moments, Harry was fast asleep as Beren kept watch for enemies and friends of Harry Potter.
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"Harry," a voice whispered. He could hear it, but he couldn't recognize it. Something about it was familiar but there was something different about it. Harry felt a cold hand on his forehead and his body began to ache all over, as if he was reliving the whole nights events in a single moment. The hand withdrew and the voice spoke again. "Harry, open your eyes. Listen to me, follow my voice Harry, and open your eyes."
Harry tried to open them but he felt so far away from his body. He was surrounded by darkness, hands outstretched and was clutching in the darkness. He once again felt the cold hand but this time it was on the back of his neck. He felt the warm steel of a goblet being put to his lips, and the hand propping his head up. Then the burning began. The liquid was cool in his mouth but then turned scolding hot as it traveled down his throat. Harry tried to close his mouth or raise his hand to push the goblet away but he felt the hand that gripped his neck tighten and Harry stopped resisting. The burning sensation in is throat quickly left him and again he felt tugged into the darkness. He heard the man put the goblet down on a surface nearby, but the other hand was still on his neck.
"Sleep now, Harry," the voice spoke softly, "you are safe." Harry was comforted by the words and the voice of a stranger. He slipped back into heavy slumber; a sleep without dreams or intruders.
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This time when Harry woke up he could see a sort of glow penetrating his eye lids and realized that he was feeling very rested. Harry opened his eyes and was nearly blinded by the light. Brilliant sunlight poured in from all around him and burned his exposed eyes. Harry quickly covered his face with his hands and shut his eyes tightly. He heard a man mutter something close by and then he heard the heavy whooshes of long curtains being drawn. The man made a complete circle around the room and came back over to Harry. In turn, he opened his eyes slowly in his hands first and then dared to look around him. The room he recognized as the hospital wing was now dark and lighted only by flickering candlelight. Harry reached for his glasses and they were handed to him gently. He put them on and the world came back into focus.
Harry looked around the room and saw that he was the only one occupying a bed, and that Poppy, the head nurse, was not in the room. He suddenly remembered that the stranger was still there. He turned quickly and his mouth dropped down in shock.
"Severus? What's this all about? Do you expect me to cure people in the dark?" Poppy shouted from the doorway. Harry tore his gaze away from Severus Snape, the Potions Master who had hated him since his first day at Hogwarts and turned to look at Poppy who was fuming with anger. "Honestly, you may like all this cold dreary nonsense but I'm having none of it!" She stormed over to the curtains and made to open them but Severus walked swiftly over and stopped her.
"Poppy, would you be so kind as to alert the Headmaster of Potters condition, I would be much obliged." His spoke sternly but kindly and Poppy looked befuddled.
"Since when are you diagnosing my patients? Potter is still in my care!" Poppy was not a tall woman but she was fierce. She was right up in Snapes face and he looked down at her carefully. He did not glare or rolls his eyes; he just stood there silently looking down at her. He took a step back and looked in the direction of Harry.
"I only meant to ask if you would tell the Headmaster that Potter is awake. I have no doubt he will be interested in Harry's side of the story. I apologize if you thought me rude, Poppy." He spoke evenly and emotionless. His voice did not carry its familiar 'I told you so' tone that it did when he knew he was right. Harry was shocked by Snape's apparent calmness and control.
"Yes-yes, of course. I stepped out for a moment… I didn't realize…my apologies Severus." She said quietly before coming over to Harry and feeling his forehead, and tucking him back into the blankets while Snape sat down beside Harrys bed. Poppy ignored him and spoke to Harry. "Lie still while I fetch the Headmaster, understand Harry?"
"Yes ma'am." Harry said quietly, but he spoke in a voice he hardly recognizes as his own. He reached up to his throat but Severus caught his hand, and brought it back down to the bed.
"Your throat is still swollen from the potion I gave you earlier. It will be sensitive to the touch for a day or two but the tenderness should just fade away, understand?" Snape shook his sleek black hair from his face and picked up a book that was lying on the wooden bedside table. He flipped it open and began to read to himself. Harry wasn't sure what to make of it all. Was Snape the man who had spoken to him earlier? He wasn't sure if that had even been real, but it must have been if his throat was sore. He was also taken aback by Snapes attitude towards him. He kept expecting to hear Snape saying something rude or insulting such as, "Can't seem to stay out of trouble, can you Potter?" or even "Honestly Potter, you're the most irresponsible student alive. Running into the forest like that." But nothing ever came. Snape continued to read and Harry continued to stare, open mouthed.
"Something bothering you Potter?" His voice was even and collected. His eyes never left the pages of the book but he raised his eye brows to show that he was waiting for an answer. Harry shook himself out of the daze he had fallen into, and tried to answer.
"Well, sir-" but he was cut off the opening of the hospital wing door and the quick unmistakable footsteps of Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore reached Harry's beside in a split second and in wasted no time in checking Harry over for himself. He finally smiled to himself and sighed in relief and withdrew his wand from his robes. At first Harry was sure that he was going to cast some spell in him but instead Dumbledore simply waved his wand and conjured a chair which he seated himself comfortably in. He gave Harry a wise smile and his eyes twinkled reassuringly.
"Tea, Harry?" Harry was still in a state of shock from having woken up next to Professor Snape and was at a loss for words. Dumbledore took his silence as a "yes" and poured three cups of tea; one for himself, one for Harry and one and Snape. "So, you seem to be healing quite nicely. How do you feel?"
"Well-" Harry started and then stopped. He took a few deep breaths before continuing. "I suppose I feel much better than before. I woke up earlier and I drank something that burned my throat." As Harry spoke his voice began to clear up and the raspy-ness that had intruded earlier began to dissolve.
"My apologies for the high temperature but there was no time to let it cool. You were still bleeding and the potion helped to slow down your blood loss and allow Poppy and I to close most of your wounds." Snape had closed his book and placed it on the bedside table. Harry was still unsure of what to think about it all.
"Drink your tea Harry, before it gets cold. It will help to heal your throat." Dumbledore said as he sat back in his rather large armchair. Harry sipped his tea at first and then began to gulp it down after realizing that he was suddenly very thirsty. "Harry, I'd like to hear your version of what happened the other night." Harry unconsciously coughed on his last bit of tea. The idea of reliving that night was almost unbearable.
"Sir, I mean, Headmaster, I would rather n-" he started but Dumbledore raised his hand to silence him.
"Harry, I know that asking you to relive that night is a terrible thing to ask but we must know how you escaped from Voldemort once again, and perhaps find a reason as to why he risked his own life to attack you so close to the school." Dumbledore gave him a look of encouragement but Harry was no encouraged. He looked over at Snape who was no looking at him but instead was looking at one of the portraits across the room. A portrait of a woman who looked very much like younger Poppy. The woman was sitting next to a sickly looking boy and reading him a story book. Harry watched Snape for a second and then without knowing why, suddenly felt embarrassed. As if he was intruding on one of Snapes personal moments. Harry looked at his bed sheets and then took a deep breath.
"I was in a compartment, with Cho, and then some kid came in and told us that we were getting close to school and so Cho left me and went back to her own compartment." Harry went on to tell Dumbledore and Snape everything from the time he had entered the hall to the time he had begun running towards the forest. He told them that he had fallen and hit his head on a rock and then continued through the forest. He was about to talk about the thestral, Beren when he suddenly heard a familiar voice in his ear.
"Do not mention me." Harry froze mid-sentence and listened. Beren continued, "Harry, you must not mention me. I took a great risk by talking to you, as it is against our code. Do not mention me."
"Well, then what am I suppose to say?" Harry said aloud and then immediately regretted his words. Dumbledore and Snape both stared at Harry rather bemused.
"Harry, are you alright?" Dumbledore was leaning over his knees towards Harry and studying his face intently. Harry was at a complete loss for words. He didn't know whether to do as Beren asked and keep his identity a secret or tell Dumbledore everything. Harry bit his lips and decided to take a chance.
"I- I just lost my train of thought is all. My head is still sore from when I fell, and I guess I just forgot what I was saying." Dumbledore seemed almost satisfied but Snape looked at him with quiet curiosity. "That's all I remember, Professor. I ran into the forest as far as I could run and then I just passed out."
"Are you sure that is all that you remember?" Dumbledore was once again trying to read Harry's face as if the word 'liar' would flash across his forehead if he looked hard enough. The flash never came.
"Yes, that's about it." Harry looked down at his sheets again and considered the matter closed. He wasn't sure what was going on at the moment. Why had Voldemort risked attacking Harry when he was so close to the school? What was hidden in the forest? Could Beren be trusted?
"Well, you had better get some rest if you are to join your classmates in your lessons as soon as possible." Dumbledore stood and the chair behind him vanished. He smiled at Harry, nodded at Poppy and with a swish of his robes was gone. Harry looked after him for a moment until Snape spoke and drew his attention back to him.
"It's a little strange, isn't it?" Snape said staring directly into Harry's eyes.
"What's strange?" Harry asked, staring right back without fear.
"Well, you seem adamant about the fact that you fell and hit your head on a rock and yet," Snape paused for his usual dramatic affect, "and yet there is no cut, nor bruise, not even a scar to show for it. That to me is strange." This stumped Harry indeed.
"Yes, that is strange." Harry said, trying to sound mysterious but ended up sounds childish. He finally broke eye contact and looked, once again, at the damn sheets that had not changed in the slightest from when he had last looked at them.
"Well, in case you were wondering, you're going to live Potter." Harry tore his eyes away from the amazingly entertaining bed sheets and looked at Snape inquisitively. "You might want to pass that information on to your bratty friends seeing as they have yet to leave the hospital wing since your arrival." With that said, Snape turned to go.
"Wait, sir." Harry called out, and Snape slowly, almost painfully, turned around and looked at Harry. "Thank you. I mean, for staying by my bedside. Thank you." Snape looked almost startled for a split second and then quickly recovered.
"You Gryffindors and your sentiments." And with that, Snape turned in his melodramatic fashion and left the wing. Harry took that to mean 'you're welcome' and left it at that. As soon as the door has closed Poppy rushed over and began smothering him with her care.
"You lay back and sleep, alright? There's a Dreamless Draught next to in the purple goblet but don't drink too much, Harry, otherwise you'll wake up in a couple of years." Harry tried to fight her but he gave in without much of a fight because he was physically tired. Before he completely blacked out he drank some of the Dreamless Draught and was about to close his eyes when he realized that Ron and Hermione were still waiting outside the wing.
"Could you tell my friends, could you tell them," The draught was working quickly and he was trying to fight the losing battle. "Just tell'em I'm alright, please? Please?" And with that Harry slipped away from the hospital wing and into a dark world where no one could touch him, not even Voldemort.
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A/N: I really need a beta-reader… thanks!
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Fear Me Not
The train arrived at Hogwarts just as night was settling in, shrouding everything in darkness and shadows. The gleam of the Hogsmeade Station lights could be seen from almost two miles away. Students who saw the lights quickly passed the words on. Soon the news had traveled around and almost all of the first years whose anxiety had flooded their compartments began to spill into the hallways. Older students, who had been missing Hogwarts, broke into excited chatter about what they were looking forward to the most this coming year and wondering who the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher might be. When a weedy looking third year poked his head in to inform Cho and Harry about the Hogsmeade lights, it was all Harry could do to keep from sighing with relief. The third year left and Cho looked at Harry glumly.
"Oh, Harry, I wish we had more time to talk. You've barely said a word." Cho said, still drying her eyes from the fountain of fresh tears that had erupted over the past few hours.
"It's ok; I don't really have anything to say." Harry said aloud, and then thought to himself, 'Not that it would have mattered if I did because there was no way I could get a word in with you prattling on.' Immediately after thinking this, he mentally scolded himself for being cruel. However, he was slightly irritated with Cho now because she had not stopped talking the entire train ride. She had even talked about what a great dancer Cedric was and how he had made the Yule Ball a night she would never forget. She told Harry all the intimate details about her relationship with Diggory nonstop. She had even continued to talk while their changed into their school robes (eyes shut tightly on both parties). He forced another smile while he stood up so Cho could wrap her arms around his neck in a friendly embrace.
"You're such a good friend for listening to me prattle on," she started, emotion welling up in her voice, "it's just that you're the only person who could possibly understand what I'm going through. After all, you watched him- him, oh Harry!" She burst into tears again and kissed Harry on the cheek before quickly leaving the compartment. Harry blushed, but purely out of frustration. Glad to finally be alone, Harry sat back down by the window and waited silently for the train to completely stop. Once it did, Harry reluctantly stood up and eased open the compartment door. Surprisingly, there was no one there.
It was quiet and eerie, immediately filling Harry with unease. He quickly drew out his wand and began slowly walking towards then end of the train. He tried to peak through the windows of the sliding doors but they were all covered, and after trying some of the door, realized that they were all locked. Suddenly feeling as though he should not be out in the hall, he turned around to go back to his compartment when his scar began to tingle, then to throb, and as he neared his empty compartment, it seared with pain.
"Potter," a voice hissed from behind him, "Crucio!" It reverberated off of the walls and Harry was struck in the back with what felt like a red hot knife that continued to stab him repeated all over his body. He could feel his body begin to spasm and his eyes roll up into his head as the curse continued to terrorize his body. When finally the pain receded, Harry's body was to numb and sore to move.
"Get up, boy." The voice commanded and Harry slowly got to his feet and saw before him a figure he had never wanted to see. Lord Voldemort stood at the end of the Hall, his slatted eyes narrowed with hatred and amusement. Harry felt his strength come back to him as he stood and defiantly stared right back at the Dark Lord, fearless. "I've played too many games with you, Potter, when I should have just killed you. I will play no more. This is the end." Voldemort raised his wand but before he could shout the killing curse, Harry jumped forward and screamed, "Expelliarmus!"
Out of pure shock, Voldemort was thrown back and Harry dashed forwards and grabbed the other wand. Just as he laid his hand on the wand, he felt a cold hand grab the back of his neck and heard the words, "Legilimens," and the hall fell together into a blur of colors, leaving Harry practically blind. He could see flashes of last year's events. He saw Professor Umbridge 'coughing' to get Professor McGonagalls attention, and McGonagall snapping at her. He saw Draco stifling a laugh and mouthing the words 'remedial potions' and looking as though it were the happiest day of his life, after interrupting one of Harry and Professors Snapes Occulumency lessons.
Harry was trying to struggle and fight the intrusion, but his mind felt too weak to resist. He saw Kreacher telling him that Black was gone. He saw himself in the Department of Mysteries, he saw himself fighting the Death Eaters. He saw Sirius Black, looking stiff and lifeless, as he fell through the black curtain and vanished. Harry saw himself in the forest, not remembering this, he stopped fighting Voldemort and became curious and on where he was headed in the forest.
"Yes, yes, just a little closer now." Harry heard, as though the voice was whispering into his ear. It was at that moment that Harry realized he had an opportunity to break free and attack. Fighting his desire to see what lay in the woods, Harry gripped his wand tightly and in one swift movement turned, knocked Voldemorts hand away and shouted "Crucio!" Concentrating all of his hate and anger to flow through his wand at the Dark Lord. The bright imagine of the hall came back to Harry as though someone had turned a switch on. He watched as Voldemort stumbled back and silently bared the attack but Harry could only hold on for a short time. As Voldemort got slowly to his feet, Harry grabbed his wand and ran towards the door at the end of the train.
Harry broke through the door and fell forward, bracing himself with the palms of his hand. He saw his wand slide from out of his grip and quickly scrambled to his feet, ignoring the blood dripping from his fingertips. He gripped his wand tightly and started to run.
"Get him; do not let him reach the gates!" Harry heard Voldemort cry and as he glanced over his shoulder, he saw four Death Eaters chasing after him. Harry heard a loud crackle and jumped to the side, thinking it was a curse but then realizing that it was lightening. He looked upwards and saw that angry gray clouds had covered the night sky and looked ready to burst. When they did, moments later, the downpour was so thick that Harry could not see two feet in front of him. He felt the water soak through his robes and chill his skin. His teeth began to chatter and his glasses fogged up. He kept running, not really knowing what direction he was headed and too scared to stop and check. Harry thought he heard angry shouts crying from behind him, so he forced himself to run harder even though he could no longer breathe. His lungs were straining for air and it came in rare gulps and gasps, but he was determined not to stop. He was determined to live. He could see something dark in front of him and he raced towards it, praying that it might be some form of shelter. As he neared it he recognized it as the Forbidden Forest.
With a second wind, Harry took off with a new burst of strength only to trip over a root that he had not seen. Harry stumbled forwards again but this time, he hit his forehead on a rock, sending a blinding pain through is head and blinding his slightly. As the fuzzy images started to come back to Harry he looked down at the rock that was completely crimson, stained with blood. Harry reached up and touched his forehead and felt a nasty gash that was continually spewing forth fresh blood. With his last ounce of strength he got to his feet and moved into the shelter of the forest.
The rain was much lighter in the forest because the tall tree branches above him created a sort of roof. Harrys robes were tore and covered in dirt and blood, but he was hardly aware of it. He felt weak and dizzy, from exhaustion and blood loss. He still didn't know here he was going but he knew that it wasn't far. He walked for what felt like an hour when he felt a nudge from behind. Harry's dull sense perked slightly and he reached for his wand as he turned around. With a mixture of relief and anxiety, he saw what had nudged him. It was a thestral.
A pair of blank white, shining eyes were visible through the gloom as was the dragonish face, neck, and the skeletal body of a great, black winged horse. Harry wondered why the thestral seemed so interested in him and then realized that he was bleeding uncontrollably. Harry fell to his knees out of weakness, as the thestral paused in front of him. The magnificent animal bet its head forward and, to Harry; it felt as though the creature was kissing his wound. Almost instantly Harry felt his body recover some of its lost energy. He reached up to his forehead and found that his injury had been healed. Harry racked his brain for any kind of mention that thestrals had the ability to heal but when he could remember nothing he thought to himself, 'I suppose Hagrid forgot to mention that one, or maybe he didn't know.'
'He doesn't know,' said a voice that was deep and warm, and spoke directly in Harry's ear. 'There are a great many things that Hagrid does not know about us. That no one knows about us.' Harry heard the voice as if the speaker had been sitting right next to him but as he looked around his saw nothing except the thestral who looked amused.
"You, but, I don't," Harry said aloud, unwilling to believe that the thestral was the voice inside his head. The thestral moved gracefully forward but Harry moved away, not knowing what to think. There was a crackle of lightening one again, and the rain pounded harder at the forests leafy roof.
'Do not fear me, Young One,' Harry heard the voice again as the thestral sat patiently before him. 'You have a great many enemies but I am not one of them. Of all the things you must fear in the world, I am not among them. So fear me not, and listen to what I say.' Harry suddenly felt soothed by the voice and moved to rest up against a tree. He squinted in the darkness, looking past the thestral for any signs of movement but saw none. 'There is nothing in this forest as of now that would attack you in my presence.' The voice said again and Harry couldn't help but wonder whose voice it was exactly.
'I suppose, if it is a name you seek, I am named Beren.' Harry looked at Beren and saw that while Beren did seem very intimidating, there was also something very calm about him. Harry felt his eyes beginning to close but then snapped them back open, looking around suspiciously. Beren walked over to Harry and lay beside him. 'Rest Young One, there is no danger near. Friends approach but not for a time. Sleep for now until they arrive, you are in no condition to find them.'
Harry longed to argue with Beren when he decided against it. The whole situation seemed surreal to him; as if it were all a dream. However, the blood and the pain told Harry that this was much more than a dream, but a nightmare. With a final look into the darkness, Harry closed his eyes and shifted slightly against Beren. He could feel Berens body move as he breathe but there was no pulse and no warmth, only cold scales. After a few moments, Harry was fast asleep as Beren kept watch for enemies and friends of Harry Potter.
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"Harry," a voice whispered. He could hear it, but he couldn't recognize it. Something about it was familiar but there was something different about it. Harry felt a cold hand on his forehead and his body began to ache all over, as if he was reliving the whole nights events in a single moment. The hand withdrew and the voice spoke again. "Harry, open your eyes. Listen to me, follow my voice Harry, and open your eyes."
Harry tried to open them but he felt so far away from his body. He was surrounded by darkness, hands outstretched and was clutching in the darkness. He once again felt the cold hand but this time it was on the back of his neck. He felt the warm steel of a goblet being put to his lips, and the hand propping his head up. Then the burning began. The liquid was cool in his mouth but then turned scolding hot as it traveled down his throat. Harry tried to close his mouth or raise his hand to push the goblet away but he felt the hand that gripped his neck tighten and Harry stopped resisting. The burning sensation in is throat quickly left him and again he felt tugged into the darkness. He heard the man put the goblet down on a surface nearby, but the other hand was still on his neck.
"Sleep now, Harry," the voice spoke softly, "you are safe." Harry was comforted by the words and the voice of a stranger. He slipped back into heavy slumber; a sleep without dreams or intruders.
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This time when Harry woke up he could see a sort of glow penetrating his eye lids and realized that he was feeling very rested. Harry opened his eyes and was nearly blinded by the light. Brilliant sunlight poured in from all around him and burned his exposed eyes. Harry quickly covered his face with his hands and shut his eyes tightly. He heard a man mutter something close by and then he heard the heavy whooshes of long curtains being drawn. The man made a complete circle around the room and came back over to Harry. In turn, he opened his eyes slowly in his hands first and then dared to look around him. The room he recognized as the hospital wing was now dark and lighted only by flickering candlelight. Harry reached for his glasses and they were handed to him gently. He put them on and the world came back into focus.
Harry looked around the room and saw that he was the only one occupying a bed, and that Poppy, the head nurse, was not in the room. He suddenly remembered that the stranger was still there. He turned quickly and his mouth dropped down in shock.
"Severus? What's this all about? Do you expect me to cure people in the dark?" Poppy shouted from the doorway. Harry tore his gaze away from Severus Snape, the Potions Master who had hated him since his first day at Hogwarts and turned to look at Poppy who was fuming with anger. "Honestly, you may like all this cold dreary nonsense but I'm having none of it!" She stormed over to the curtains and made to open them but Severus walked swiftly over and stopped her.
"Poppy, would you be so kind as to alert the Headmaster of Potters condition, I would be much obliged." His spoke sternly but kindly and Poppy looked befuddled.
"Since when are you diagnosing my patients? Potter is still in my care!" Poppy was not a tall woman but she was fierce. She was right up in Snapes face and he looked down at her carefully. He did not glare or rolls his eyes; he just stood there silently looking down at her. He took a step back and looked in the direction of Harry.
"I only meant to ask if you would tell the Headmaster that Potter is awake. I have no doubt he will be interested in Harry's side of the story. I apologize if you thought me rude, Poppy." He spoke evenly and emotionless. His voice did not carry its familiar 'I told you so' tone that it did when he knew he was right. Harry was shocked by Snape's apparent calmness and control.
"Yes-yes, of course. I stepped out for a moment… I didn't realize…my apologies Severus." She said quietly before coming over to Harry and feeling his forehead, and tucking him back into the blankets while Snape sat down beside Harrys bed. Poppy ignored him and spoke to Harry. "Lie still while I fetch the Headmaster, understand Harry?"
"Yes ma'am." Harry said quietly, but he spoke in a voice he hardly recognizes as his own. He reached up to his throat but Severus caught his hand, and brought it back down to the bed.
"Your throat is still swollen from the potion I gave you earlier. It will be sensitive to the touch for a day or two but the tenderness should just fade away, understand?" Snape shook his sleek black hair from his face and picked up a book that was lying on the wooden bedside table. He flipped it open and began to read to himself. Harry wasn't sure what to make of it all. Was Snape the man who had spoken to him earlier? He wasn't sure if that had even been real, but it must have been if his throat was sore. He was also taken aback by Snapes attitude towards him. He kept expecting to hear Snape saying something rude or insulting such as, "Can't seem to stay out of trouble, can you Potter?" or even "Honestly Potter, you're the most irresponsible student alive. Running into the forest like that." But nothing ever came. Snape continued to read and Harry continued to stare, open mouthed.
"Something bothering you Potter?" His voice was even and collected. His eyes never left the pages of the book but he raised his eye brows to show that he was waiting for an answer. Harry shook himself out of the daze he had fallen into, and tried to answer.
"Well, sir-" but he was cut off the opening of the hospital wing door and the quick unmistakable footsteps of Albus Dumbledore.
Dumbledore reached Harry's beside in a split second and in wasted no time in checking Harry over for himself. He finally smiled to himself and sighed in relief and withdrew his wand from his robes. At first Harry was sure that he was going to cast some spell in him but instead Dumbledore simply waved his wand and conjured a chair which he seated himself comfortably in. He gave Harry a wise smile and his eyes twinkled reassuringly.
"Tea, Harry?" Harry was still in a state of shock from having woken up next to Professor Snape and was at a loss for words. Dumbledore took his silence as a "yes" and poured three cups of tea; one for himself, one for Harry and one and Snape. "So, you seem to be healing quite nicely. How do you feel?"
"Well-" Harry started and then stopped. He took a few deep breaths before continuing. "I suppose I feel much better than before. I woke up earlier and I drank something that burned my throat." As Harry spoke his voice began to clear up and the raspy-ness that had intruded earlier began to dissolve.
"My apologies for the high temperature but there was no time to let it cool. You were still bleeding and the potion helped to slow down your blood loss and allow Poppy and I to close most of your wounds." Snape had closed his book and placed it on the bedside table. Harry was still unsure of what to think about it all.
"Drink your tea Harry, before it gets cold. It will help to heal your throat." Dumbledore said as he sat back in his rather large armchair. Harry sipped his tea at first and then began to gulp it down after realizing that he was suddenly very thirsty. "Harry, I'd like to hear your version of what happened the other night." Harry unconsciously coughed on his last bit of tea. The idea of reliving that night was almost unbearable.
"Sir, I mean, Headmaster, I would rather n-" he started but Dumbledore raised his hand to silence him.
"Harry, I know that asking you to relive that night is a terrible thing to ask but we must know how you escaped from Voldemort once again, and perhaps find a reason as to why he risked his own life to attack you so close to the school." Dumbledore gave him a look of encouragement but Harry was no encouraged. He looked over at Snape who was no looking at him but instead was looking at one of the portraits across the room. A portrait of a woman who looked very much like younger Poppy. The woman was sitting next to a sickly looking boy and reading him a story book. Harry watched Snape for a second and then without knowing why, suddenly felt embarrassed. As if he was intruding on one of Snapes personal moments. Harry looked at his bed sheets and then took a deep breath.
"I was in a compartment, with Cho, and then some kid came in and told us that we were getting close to school and so Cho left me and went back to her own compartment." Harry went on to tell Dumbledore and Snape everything from the time he had entered the hall to the time he had begun running towards the forest. He told them that he had fallen and hit his head on a rock and then continued through the forest. He was about to talk about the thestral, Beren when he suddenly heard a familiar voice in his ear.
"Do not mention me." Harry froze mid-sentence and listened. Beren continued, "Harry, you must not mention me. I took a great risk by talking to you, as it is against our code. Do not mention me."
"Well, then what am I suppose to say?" Harry said aloud and then immediately regretted his words. Dumbledore and Snape both stared at Harry rather bemused.
"Harry, are you alright?" Dumbledore was leaning over his knees towards Harry and studying his face intently. Harry was at a complete loss for words. He didn't know whether to do as Beren asked and keep his identity a secret or tell Dumbledore everything. Harry bit his lips and decided to take a chance.
"I- I just lost my train of thought is all. My head is still sore from when I fell, and I guess I just forgot what I was saying." Dumbledore seemed almost satisfied but Snape looked at him with quiet curiosity. "That's all I remember, Professor. I ran into the forest as far as I could run and then I just passed out."
"Are you sure that is all that you remember?" Dumbledore was once again trying to read Harry's face as if the word 'liar' would flash across his forehead if he looked hard enough. The flash never came.
"Yes, that's about it." Harry looked down at his sheets again and considered the matter closed. He wasn't sure what was going on at the moment. Why had Voldemort risked attacking Harry when he was so close to the school? What was hidden in the forest? Could Beren be trusted?
"Well, you had better get some rest if you are to join your classmates in your lessons as soon as possible." Dumbledore stood and the chair behind him vanished. He smiled at Harry, nodded at Poppy and with a swish of his robes was gone. Harry looked after him for a moment until Snape spoke and drew his attention back to him.
"It's a little strange, isn't it?" Snape said staring directly into Harry's eyes.
"What's strange?" Harry asked, staring right back without fear.
"Well, you seem adamant about the fact that you fell and hit your head on a rock and yet," Snape paused for his usual dramatic affect, "and yet there is no cut, nor bruise, not even a scar to show for it. That to me is strange." This stumped Harry indeed.
"Yes, that is strange." Harry said, trying to sound mysterious but ended up sounds childish. He finally broke eye contact and looked, once again, at the damn sheets that had not changed in the slightest from when he had last looked at them.
"Well, in case you were wondering, you're going to live Potter." Harry tore his eyes away from the amazingly entertaining bed sheets and looked at Snape inquisitively. "You might want to pass that information on to your bratty friends seeing as they have yet to leave the hospital wing since your arrival." With that said, Snape turned to go.
"Wait, sir." Harry called out, and Snape slowly, almost painfully, turned around and looked at Harry. "Thank you. I mean, for staying by my bedside. Thank you." Snape looked almost startled for a split second and then quickly recovered.
"You Gryffindors and your sentiments." And with that, Snape turned in his melodramatic fashion and left the wing. Harry took that to mean 'you're welcome' and left it at that. As soon as the door has closed Poppy rushed over and began smothering him with her care.
"You lay back and sleep, alright? There's a Dreamless Draught next to in the purple goblet but don't drink too much, Harry, otherwise you'll wake up in a couple of years." Harry tried to fight her but he gave in without much of a fight because he was physically tired. Before he completely blacked out he drank some of the Dreamless Draught and was about to close his eyes when he realized that Ron and Hermione were still waiting outside the wing.
"Could you tell my friends, could you tell them," The draught was working quickly and he was trying to fight the losing battle. "Just tell'em I'm alright, please? Please?" And with that Harry slipped away from the hospital wing and into a dark world where no one could touch him, not even Voldemort.
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A/N: I really need a beta-reader… thanks!
