CHAPTER 10: No Rest for the Wicked
Draco Malfoy was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. His hands were clasped behind his head and deep inside, he felt a grim satisfaction. Today's session was the best he'd had, considering his tutor was beginning to lose confidence in him and declared that if he did not make any headway by today, he would stop instructing him in the Powerful Arts of Elemency. Few wizards or witches had this special ability, and it was only recently that his father told him that there might be a slim chance that Draco inherited it from his great grandfather, after whom he was named. He saw a picture of Nikolai Draco Malfoy when he was about sixteen, it was remarkable how much he resembled Nikolai.
Today was a glorious day. He finally managed to ignite a living plant, one of the first steps in the long road of revenge. Draco smiled in remembrance; setting ablaze the bush with only a glare and an incantation was invigorating. The power his grandfather specialized in was the Infernus: the ability to summon, control and manipulate fire. His tutor said nothing, which was as good as praise in the old bastard's eyes. Angelo Dorius Ash was unflinching in his ways and standards, and did not hesitate to use the Cruciatus curse to get results.
Right now, Draco felt as if he had just been bestowed the greatest gift. At the more advanced levels, Nikolai Draco Malfoy was rumoured to be able to summon demons of fire and make them do his bidding. And that was not all- the true masters who have completed all Ten Tiers of Elemency had the ability to summon the deadly Reign of Fire, the most feared Dark Spell known to wizardkind. It was far more potent than a pathetic killing spell. The Ultimate Cataclysmic Summon, the Reign of Fire was capable destroying everything in a five mile radius- or even bigger.
Draco grinned.
He was ambitious, and realizing now that he had the ability, his dreams of glory could materialize in ways far more then he had hoped. Since his father had been taken captive and detained at the dungeons at the Ministry of Magic, Draco vowed that Potter would pay. The last time he saw his father, it was a few days after he and the Dark Lord's faithful servants were arrested. All he was allowed was one visit, and he and his mother went to see him. When his father was brought before them, Draco averted his eyes. It was a humiliating to see this once proud man so humbled. Clad in a dingy prisoner's robe, his arms and legs manacled, he appearance was so disgraceful that just the sight of his father's defeat made Draco hate Potter even more, if that was possible. Father and son stood there for a whole minute looking at each other, face to face, man to man.
For even though his son was only recently sixteen, Lucius Malfoy knew.
This boy was indeed special, and would one day be hailed as a great wizard.
He was a Malfoy, and he came from the seed of his loins.
The Malfoy family would not be forgotten when he inevitably rotted away in Azkaban. The fire and drive in Lucius Malfoy's eyes told Draco all he needed to know. Draco nodded solemnly, and after a few seconds of deliberation, Lucius Malfoy slowly tipped his head, looking down the length of his aristocratic nose at his only son. Instinctively, Draco knew that this was a sign of recognition, and the figurative passing down of the torch. Without another word, the prisoner turned on his heel and left them, going back through the door whence he came. When the Guard slammed the door behind him and bolted it shut, his mother broke down in tears. For the entire meeting, no one spoke, but there was no need for words. The unspoken request was loud and clear.
Yes father, I will definitely have revenge.
He trained everyday- the first step was learning the properties of fire, and the behaviour it takes at different circumstances. The theory was the easy part; the actual incantations and force of will were the taxing part, especially when failure was rewarded with a dose of excruciating pain. He worked hard at the back of the manor, avoiding his mother and her pitiful sobbing. She cried ceaselessly it seemed. He couldn't fathom how his mother could be so weak. Tomorrow he would visit his father's attorneys at the Ministry of Magic. Right now, all he wanted to do is get some rest, yet sleep eluded him. Hours later, he managed to fall into a fitful sleep, images of his father in chains haunting him.
Many miles away, another young man was getting trouble sleeping. Harry had taken his Godfather's old bedroom and was sprawled out in the huge king-sized bed. He somehow felt comfortable in this room, yet his head was flooded with strange dreams. Nothing in them were actually strange, it was the third person perspective that had him confused. He was seeing events of his own past in his dreams, yet it was from someone else's viewpoint.
Someone close….
The images got darker and more disturbing, the times when Harry was in the most peril over the years flashing back at him, image after image of his scariest memories. The basilisk- it's huge jaws gaping, and the pain of when it's fang pierced his arm while receiving the fatal blow. His duel with Voldemort, and the pain of torture at his hands- the nightmare creatures rolled on and on until a particular incident came into focus, clear as if it were happening right before his eyes.
He was looking up at himself from the edge of the lake, the night unusually dark. Shapes- dark, hooded phantoms were swarming in, the night getting blacker until it was almost impossible to see. The person tried to scream, but all that came out of their mouth was a faint exhale of breath, a terrifying blast of cold deathly air suffocating any voice- or will- that they possessed. Harry thrashed in his sleep, sweating profusely in the sheets. Death's henchmen crowded around the person, all feelings of love, happiness and hope were slowly being snuffed out under a blanket of despair. When all was apparently lost- and the boy in the distance could not conjure the Patronus, it happened.
Harry could feel magic swirling from deep inside the person he was currently residing in, a strange feeling of being ethereal and bound to the physical at the same time, and a calling upon the hosts to aid the one who would fight - the one who she considered her hero.
And at that moment- Harry somehow was in three people at the same time- his real self, asleep at Grimmauld Place, his past self in the dream, and the one gasping desperately against the cold- completely immersed in an incredible rush of magical power...
There was one who believed in him when he could not believe in himself.
One person who somehow lent him the strength needed to save those that he loved.
With newfound determination- he closed his eyes briefly, and when they reopened, the strength of the one prophesised to have the Power the Dark Lord Knew Not unveiled itself.
He could not die, not here, and not now.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A light shone down from the overhead sky, piercing the unfathomable darkness of the Dementors. It touched down on the far side of the lake- slowly materializing into an animal shape. It was his first Corporal Patronus- and at that moment, when he knew that his friends, Ron, Sirius, Hermione were to be given the kiss- he glanced at the girl laying unconscious there. Something she had done to triggered it. The power of love- when there was nothing more to draw upon, when there was no hope left- she had instilled it in him. The magic used in that spell was something he could never have acquired by his lonesome, but there it was taking shape before his eyes: the great horns were the first, then the head and neck materialized; all the way down to the hooves on sturdy limbs. The majestic stag charged the Dementors down at an incredible speed, and reared on its hind legs in front of them, defending the people who were on the ground. When Harry instinctively reached out the beautiful light, not wanting it to go- the Stag emitted a steadily increasing light- and then disappeared in a blinding flash.
His eyes snapped open in the real world. He was safe, here in his godfather's room; but still he felt the effects of the dementors pulling at him, wanting to take him into the darkness…
Then it clicked-
"Hermione!" he gasped, eyes flashing open. His head was aching, someone was screaming for help over and over again, yet no sound escaped their lips. It was a panic feeling, and the utter despair of no one being able to hear. Harry raced out of his bedroom, the door swinging open for him inexplicably before he was even six feet close, but he didn't even give it a second thought- there was no time to waste! He ran down the corridor at full speed and burst into the bedroom Ginny and Hermione shared. He saw Hermione's head twitching side to side, her brow damp from perspiration. He went to her bedside and shook her gently.
"Hermione! Wake up, you're having a nightmare!" He shook her again, a bit harder this time. She stirred, but did not wake. He put the back of his palm against her forehead; she was burning up with fever. He was getting really worried now. "Hermione!" he said again, desperation evident in his voice.
"…Harry? Is that you..?" Ginny mumbled something from where she slept, her voice sounding quite groggy.
"Ginny, call the Professor, something is wrong her!" he ordered.
"Huh? What did you say?" Ginny asked sleepily, now sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
"Get the professor, we need him in here! Go quickly!" he repeated. "She's burning up!" Ginny crawled out of bed, and half stumbled- half ran out the room.
"What's wrong? Get up, Hermione!" said Harry. At that moment her eyes flew open and she bolted upright; gasping for a breath. "You all right?" Harry said softly.
"Oh my god Harry, I thought I was trapped in those nightmares! I felt as if it were...if it were.. happening again, only this time I couldn't wake up. Tonight was the worst," she shivered.
"It's all right now, I saw. I came as soon as I realized what was happening," Harry comforted her. He put his arms around her and she rest her head on his shoulder. "Everything's okay now..." he murmured, holding her close. Hermione felt safe in his arms, and somehow knew that he would always protect her. It dawned on him that he just told her something that he should never have been able to.
He saw her dreams? And from her perspective? What was going on?
She looked up at him quickly. Their cheeks brushed at the sudden movement, and Harry had to loosen his grip as Hermione tilted her head up to his. For a microsecond their faces were close – so close- all he had to do was inch forward…
"What do you mean by 'you saw'? You saw what I was dreaming?"
Harry did not answer her immediately. He looked into her eyes.
"Don't worry. The point is you're safe now." She frowned at him, and Harry had the sudden urge to smoothen out the slight wrinkle between her eyebrows with his lips. Something about her tonight- something strange was happening, why was he feeling so emotional? Why was it hat all he wanted to do was to kiss her worries away? Why did this- holding her- feel so right?
She was about to scold him when Professor Dumbledore came inside the room, a worried expression on his face.
"Hermione? Ginny told me you were ill?"
"I was, but everything seems to be okay now, Harry woke me up," she answered.
"Interesting. Harry, how did you know that she was not feeling well and needed assistance?" Dumbledore enquired. Harry hesitated, but answered the question.
"I saw the nightmares in my sleep."
With a puzzled frown at Hermione, Dumbledore gave her a piece of chocolate and a potion. "Here you are, drink up, Miss Granger." He turned to Harry. "May I have a word with you?"
Harry got off the bed followed him into the study. As they sat down Harry began to speak first. It was getting a bit familiar now- the way Dumbledore said those words. From past experience, this always revolved around something quite important that he somehow knew nothing about. It was getting old. He was a bit irritated that he was always the last to know.
"You have something you want to let me in on, Professor?" he asked politely, the sarcasm evident to the trained ear.
"I'm sorry once again for keeping it from you, but this time the less you knew was actually beneficial to everyone, and not a case of questioning your ability to handle the truth," he nodded grimly. Harry said nothing, just eyed Dumbledore stonily. "Harry you realize that since the attack in the Ministry of magic that Voldemort is no longer afraid of being detected. His power is slowly rejuvenating, which means that his connection with you will increase as time goes on. The flashes of pain in your scar and the visions would be more frequent and increasingly more intense."
Harry thought about this, he almost forgot the past year he was bombarded by images in Voldemort's perspective and the mood swings that he had. He couldn't remember the last time his scar hurt during the night after that fateful day in the Ministry. He gave Dumbledore a puzzled look.
"Yeah, how come I'm not picking up anything recently? Especially just before he attacked Cho and me? That should have felt like a bullet to the head, giving me some sort of warning…. Something."
"Well I deduced that your Occlumency lessons were not going as well as planned so I decided to get a little help from one of you friends."
"Who?'
"I have been training Miss Granger for a while now-"
"You're kidding, right!"
Dumbledore shook his head. Harry leaned back in his char, blowing out a breath. He glanced at the door, thinking about what he had just witnessed in his own sleep.
"I felt as if it were...if it were.. happening again, only this time I couldn't wake up…"
Which meant that this wasn't the first time. Harry cursed inwardly.
"Miss Granger has taken it upon herself to act as a personal shield for you against his mind probing. She has started Occlumency lessons ever since the attack on Arthur, and has been acting as a firewall against him since you joined her for the summer. I feared that if Voldemort somehow managed to penetrate deep enough, he would be able to obtain the address of your home from your mind, which is why I took you somewhere where you did not know the address- the Granger's. Now that Voldemort has made contact with you; we will have to re-charm her place, and make sure that he doesn't find it. She has kept a mental link with you for a while now and at certain times you are susceptible to her thoughts, just as you were to Voldemort's. That's why she may seem over concerned and emotional these days, some of your raw emotions flood her as well. I believe that without her help you may have gone insane- your loss is very real, Harry, and at this point in time you are even more vulnerable to attacks…" he added grimly.
Harry could not have known, he would have no clue if the Professor did not tell him. How could Hermione been handling all of this stress without telling him?
"That's why I was seeing some her memories before, and now this…" Harry deduced.
"Well, that is not supposed to happen. She is not trying to enter your mind like Voldemort does, she's more like a sentry at the gate to your thoughts. Technically, you aren't supposed to get any feedback from her, however, it seems that nothing is ever cut and dry when it concerns your magical abilities."
"You know what? I won't allow Hermione to suffer – just not happening. I will work very hard at occlumency lessons with Professor Snape from now on; she has enough on her mind, let alone having to deal with mine as well. She does not deserve these nightmares."
"I fear that's impossible at the moment Harry. The antagonism between the two of you caused the training to fail, resulting in the increase in visions instead of putting a stop to them. And open mind contact between you and I would prove far more detrimental than positive, I fear if Voldemort re-entered your mind when it is vulnerable after sessions he may be able to posses you again. And that is a risk we can never take," Dumbledore shook his head slowly. Voldemort as an immense problem by himself, but still there was a chance. With Harry under his influence, there would be nothing to stop him….
Harry nodded reluctantly, got up, and left the study. He needed to talk to someone, and there was only one person who he felt free to talk to anymore: Ron As he walked through the halls of Grimmauld Place, Dumbledore's words were echoing over and over through his head. 'Without her help you may have gone insane…'
What was that about? I'm not some sort of fruitcake. Well- I could be sort of stupid at times, but that's normal, isn't it?
He opened the door of the room where the Weasley brothers slept. Harry smiled, here he was; after Hermione nearly gets trapped in his, well her, er- well their nightmare and there they were; all of them were snoring like drunken giants. He decided against waking Ron, he would have to let it wait till tomorrow. He really wanted to talk to someone though, and Sirius was the first one to come to mind.
Tough luck, Potter. You blew that one big time. Should have just listened to her when you had the chance…but nooo…you had to go and do something stupid- yet again..
Running his hands through his hair as a sign of frustration- he closed the door behind him and went back into his godfather's room. He got into bed, but knew he could not go back to sleep. He stared up at the ceiling until sunrise, thinking of everything and nothing in particular.
The next morning he got up early out of bed and dressed. He wandered around the mansion, haunting the rooms like a ghost, looking for refuge and peace from everything. He reached the dining hall and opened its massive doors. Once again he froze, this time he would have sworn he saw that same scarred reflection of his in the mirror on the opposite end of the room- except this time, flames were raging behind him- his eyes glowing ominously. His scar prickled in trepidation- as if Voldemort sensed something that was never present before. He shut his eyes to block out the foreboding image - but when he opened them again- the mirror was directly in front of him, somehow moving itself within arms reach. At that moment, his reflection was grinning evilly back at him- hands rising, ready to pounce-
"NO!"
He ran back out of the room and did not stop till he had slammed shut his bedroom door behind him. He leant on the ancient wooden door, breathing hard.
"I am imagining things, I am imagining things, my imagination, that's all- " he repeated to himself. He slid downwards against the door, his head in his hands. No more than two minutes later there was a sudden knocking behind him, nearly scaring hi to death. He sprung up and faced it, nerves ready for battle. Who the hell is that?
"Harry? It's me, Cho,"she said tentatively.
"What do you want?" Harry demanded, watching the door handle like a coiled snake.
"Can you let me in? please?" she replied, trying to open the door. It turned a notch in both directions, Cho realising that it was indeed locked. Harry stood there for a minute, was it his imagination- or was the snake unfurling slowly from it's coil- the tongue flicking in an out- sensing prey?
"Alohomora !" There was a little click and Cho came inside, wearing the same outfit she went to bed with. Harry retreated, looking at the face of Bellatrix Lestrange- her eyes cold and unblinking- a mild gleam in her eyes. Cho looked up at him quizzically, the strange glaze in his eyes and peculiar manner.
"What's wrong with you?" Cho asked. "You're acting like we didn't share a great kiss last night, like I must have a reason to come and see you!" Harry tried to block out the hallucinations, but he found it difficult. He was hearing Cho's voice, but Bellatrix was indeed asking him to kiss her- and she was getting mad. He closed his eyes against the half truths he was seeing, and in response to his brain not believing what he was seeing, his eyes began to water as energy pooled behind them- burning him…
"Drop it- Cho, I am really not in the mood..." came the words, but he didn't actually say them- did he?
"Oh ho, so now its I-don't-want-to-talk–to-Cho-about-anything-Harry is it?" she put her fists on her hips and watched him squarely in the face, she meant business. He opened his eyes once again, staring directly at her.
"What do you want from me, Cho?" Harry was getting irritated now.
"Not this attitude for one. You seem to be so volatile sometimes. All I came to do was tell you that the Professor will be ready in a short while to take you to the Ministry of magic. I just wanted to tell you that I'm coming along, and so are Ginny, Ron, and Granger I think. Mrs Weasley sad she has breakfast ready in the kitchen so come on down to eat."
"Thanks, but I'm not hungry…" he said flatly. Cho looked at him in a different light now- why were his eyes no longer that brilliant green- they seemed to be...changing colour?
"Harry, something's wrong and you're not telling me," she approached him. As she got into three feet from him she felt her hairs tingling. She stopped suddenly. " Harry calm down, you're acting up again."
"Oh so that's what it is now? I'm just acting up? Throwing a tantrum? More teen rage and all that?" The charge was starting to affect his hair and Cho began to feel warm.
"No I did not mean to patronize you, just calm down Harry, you need to relax," she implored, anxiety building up inside...this wasn't good.
She glanced at the doorway behind her.
"Relax? Relax! Dumbledore and Hermione go behind my back and interfere inside my head without telling me, Voldemort springs out of the blue to kill me yesterday, I'm seeing strange reflections in the mirror, I have a trial in ten days and Hermione's nightmares are getting in my head! I can't sleep, I can't think, I CAN'T DO ANYTHING!" he hissed.
Free…at last…
There was an ear splitting crash heard all over the house, every single window and mirror had just been reduced to fragments. Cho screamed, the bedroom window had just imploded and she dived to the ground, covering her head with her arms. Harry stood up there, glass flying inside at them, but the shards stopped just inches away from his person, hitting an invisible force and falling in a ring about his feet. He took a deep breath and unclenched his fist. The sound of startled cries and girlish screams could be heard from different rooms. Almost immediately- the front door slammed open and the sound of many thundering footsteps came rushing up the stairs, the incantations of complex shield charms and wards muttered as they approached. Remus and Moody were the first to burst through the large bedroom door, wands ready – their overlapping Shield charms refracting the air in front of them.
"What is it Harry! Did Voldemort infiltrate? What happened, was it any of his followers? Did they disapparate?" Moody barked.
The questions came rushing one after the other. Five more of the order piled in, and Harry could vaguely sense about seven wizards circling the manor on broomsticks. Only when they realized that Cho was whimpering silently on the bedroom floor that they took their eyes off of Harry. Arthur Weasley and Tonks knelt at her side.
"Cho, honey, are you all-right?" Tonks asked.
Watching Potter closely with his magical eye- Moody figured out that it was no attack after all. It was a false alarm, the magical security system had tripped off when all the windows blew out.
"Get Granger up in here," Moody grumbled. He looked at Dumbledore, who still had a toothbrush in his teeth, toothpaste leaking out a corner of his mouth, wand at the ready. Molly nodded and went to get her as she was closest to the door. Harry stood there, glaring at them all, his hair moving fractionally in the wake of that magical outburst. Arthur took in the room. There were little pieces of glass all over the place, except in a three-foot wide radius around Harry. He frowned. There was a slight glow around Harry's pupils, which were now an ice blue. Arthur got up warily, never taking his eyes off of him.
"I'm here, I'm here," Hermione was squeezing past the wizards in the corridor outside Sirius' room to get inside the bedroom. "Harry, you okay?"
Harry stood there stock still, but looked at Hermione, her presence drawing his first respone. His eyes followed hers until she was inside that three-foot radius, looking down at her quizzically.
"..stay..back.." he forced out, but she shushed him.
"Shh..." Hermione whispered, and laid a palm flat against his left cheek. Taking his hand in the next, she looked deeply into his eyes and pressed his hand unto her heart. Locking his eyes with hers, she began her spell.
"Leglimens!"
Hermione closed her eyes slowly- making Harry do the same through her magic. After a tense few seconds of deafening quiet- his hair was dormant once more, the unnatural stillness of the air was gone, and the strange magic flowing through all present dissipated. There was a collective release of pent up breath as everyone sighed in relief. Harry slowly returned to full control, blinking rapidly and taking in the audience he had inside his room. He looked at Hermione- feeling a soothing presence inside his conscious. Her eyes were still closed, but he felt the re-establishment of their mental contact Her eyes were moving rapidly beneath closed eyelids, her mouth slightly parted, pink and flushed from the initial energy burst she received when she came inside. She looked damn kissable. Her eyes flew open as this thought crossed his mind, but she was not finished. Her eyes drooped to slits again and she muttered something beneath her breath and it was done. Harry's scar stopped prickling, and he felt woozy and drained. She released him, and stepped back, both drained from the mental toll of that Occlumens session.
"Amazing," Tonks whispered. McGonagall flushed with pride, and Snape was speechless. He was stuck with the task of training Potter, and even with nearly a whole school year – he had failed to even prevent him from seeing visions- far less infiltrate another's deepest psyche. The headmaster had her for only a few months -but she was already this skilled? Unbelieveable.
"Remarkable progress you have made, Miss Granger," complimented Professor Dumbledore, "I feared something like this may happen when the protection was severed last night, but once again you exceed my expectations in recovering the link at the time when his defences are strongest-" he mused, this bedroom looked like a bomb went through it. She nodded, but did not smile. She felt Harry's pain and frustration while re-establishing the link, the attack yesterday was weighing heavily on him, and the Prophecy always in the back of his mind. Hermione watched Harry, how could he take all of this pressure?
"Well nothing more to see here, lets ship out," Moody ordered, obviously wanting to take everyone's eyes off Potter.