Regarding Harry
by Tsujton
Disclaimer: Anything recognizable from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling et al. I make no profit (story of my life…).
Summary: Harry destroys the last Horcrux and defeats Voldemort – but in doing so, winds up back where he started the night he got his scar: with the mind of a fifteen month old – big baby!Harry. But the Death Eaters are out for revenge… Slightly slashy. Some abuse and violence, so rated: M
Chapter 5: Reunions
Hermione pulled herself through the open door of Hagrid's hut pressing a hand on the throbbing lump at the back of her head. Ginny lay in a heap in the floor, her eyes closed, her face bloodied. Hermione staggered to her side, still dazed from the heavy blow of her unknown attacker.
"Ginny. Gin?" Hermione lightly patted Ginny's cheek as she called her and Ginny gave a low groan. "Ginny, wake up. What Happened?"
Suddenly, Ginny sat bolt upright. "Harry," she said at once looking around frantically. The sudden movement gave Ginny a wave of dizziness, and her vision started to close in at the edges.
Hermione grabbed the younger girl's shoulder to steady her and looked to Hagrid's bed. It was empty.
"He's gone –" broke Hermione, just as Ginny gasped out:
"Malfoy! Lucius Malfoy was here," her voice grew stronger and rose in pitch as she went on. "I tried to stop him. I tried to – I threw the knife. I missed. He took Harry and – Where were you, Hermione?" Ginny looked up accusingly.
"M-Malfoy must've snuck up on me. Hit me from behind. I didn't hear or see anything." Hermione stood, her face burning in shame, as she helped Ginny up. Ginny blamed her, and she, Hermione, blamed herself, too. But this was no time to dwell on fault. "Come on. We have to find Harry. I don't know how long I was out for, Malfoy may have a fair head start."
As they headed toward the door, there was a sudden, deafening Crack! behind them and the two whipped around to see what it was.
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He felt tight. Too tight everywhere. Alone and dark and tight. Then, abruptly, the feeling was gone. Harry opened his eyes and tried to cry out, but it turned to coughing caused by dust clouds rising around him. He was lying on a hard, uneven surface. It was dim but for a stream of light entering through a broken, partially boarded window. Mum-ma, where? Mum-ma?
The building in Godric's Hollow that had once been home to Lily and James Potter was in shambles. None of the Potters' friends had had the heart to rebuild. The local Muggle children believed it to be haunted, and dared each other to enter the house. No one who took the dares succeeded. Any who approached the front door suddenly found themselves with other pressing matters to attend to, and the jeers of "Coward!" and "Wus!" from their mates did nothing to impede their hasty retreats. So when a frightened teen appeared in the ruins of the living room with a loud bang, it was observed only by a small, grey field mouse, who darted under the remains of a moth-eaten sofa. The mouse stayed there for a very long time, regarding the shaking human. At last, there was another bang, and the mouse was again alone.
Too, too tight. Crack. Harry was back in the room. On the big bed. Away from the bad. Away. His hiccoughing subsided and he sucked on his bottom lip and sniffed several times, shuddering. He lowered his arms, which had remained pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, and curled up in a fetal position, completely bewildered. Harry saw the one who was not-Mum and the other, looking at him. He pulled his hands – still bound together at the wrists – in front of his face protectively, and peeked at the two uneasily through his fingers.
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Hermione and Ginny stood, dumbfounded, gaping at Harry, who had clearly just Apparated. Then they hugged each other and let out half-laugh-half-cries of relief. The embrace was short-lived though, for there was an unexpected shout from outside.
"Move it, you git!"
"Ron?" whispered Hermione in disbelief.
"That's Ron," Ginny reassured her, nodding, and then they both jumped, as someone fell over the threshold and landed hard on the floor.
It was Draco Malfoy. His hands were tied behind him and he wore a blindfold. He looked badly beaten and he stayed exactly were he landed, cheek pressed against the floor and breathing heavily. Ron followed immediately, and stopped dead in his tracks seeing Hermione and Ginny. It was the best sight he'd seen in a long time.
Ron stepped over Draco's bedraggled form to embrace them tightly. The three stood, just clinging to each other in silence. Then, Hermione broke down.
It started with great sniffs and gulping, which Hermione could no longer contain. Soon she was in the throes of a full blown bawling fit, trying to speak, but completely unintelligible.
"Shhh, 'Mione," Ron comforted her and she clung to him more tightly. Ginny disentangled herself from the group hug, enabling Ron to wrap his arms completely around Hermione.
When she'd at last calmed enough to be understood, Hermione stammered, "I th-thought you were dead…"
Ron guided Hermione to sit in one of Hagrid's huge armchairs and knelt before her, taking her hands in his. Ginny saw that Ron, too, had telltale wand burns.
"Me?" He half-snorted. "Not bloody likely." He stood and kissed her on the forehead, turning to haul Draco up roughly by the arm.
"But Greyback…" Hermione began
"Sectumsempra – for enemies." Ron's eyes shone and his voice was low.
"What about Bellatrix?" Ginny asked.
"She's dead too. Greyback –" Ron gulped to avoid gagging at the memory. The werewolf had looked directly into Ron's eyes as he'd died. 'Appalled at what you've done, pup?' he'd taunted Ron. 'No matter. I'll be with Bella.' He actually managed a macabre, burbled laugh, blood flecking over his grinning lips. Ron cringed and tried to thrust the image from his head.
"She's dead," he finished, shaking his head. "Then I came across this…filth." Ron dragged Draco to the back wall and shoved him against it. Draco stumbled blindly and fell back hitting the wall with a grunt and landing inelegantly on his behind.
Harry, dazedly observing all from the bed, lowered his hands a bit, to better see the new arrivals. Boy?
"'Pretty boy', here, didn't have any fight left in'im. No Dark Lord to rally 'round took the piss out of him, I guess," sneered Ron. "Too bad. I would've liked to 'ave been the one to break his face."
"Where's Malfoy senior?" demanded Ginny. "He was here. He attacked us and took Harry away."
"Wha- Harry?" Ron rounded on Draco, grabbing him by the front of his dusty robes and shaking him forcefully. "You bloody bastard! Where are they? Tell me now or I'll –" Draco cringed at the unexpected assault, but then made no move to resist.
"Ron," shouted Ginny, over her brother's threats. "Harry's here. He managed to Apparate back." She pointed to Hagrid's bed where Harry lay on his side, his face quizzical and his bound hands tentatively reaching out.
"Mm, P-P'…ee…Boh…" Harry murmured, raising his head slightly and squinting at Draco. Small though this effort was, it was too much for the worn out youth. His head fell back to the pillow as his eyes slowly closed.
"Harry!" Ron and Hermione said at once. Ron in relief, because he hadn't realized his friend was here and – somehow – alive, and Hermione in horror, because she had forgotten all about the lethal scar wound.
At the same time, Draco uttered, "Potter's alive?" his ragged voice tinged with incredulity and relief.
Hermione ran to Harry's side to check his wound but stopped short, eyes widening. "How –? It's…closed."
Ginny joined her to see the now scabbed over wound. "Thank Merlin," she said. It looked nothing like a lightening bolt now, just a large, dark, indistinct shape, with a few tracks of dried blood leading out from it down the length of Harry's almost tranquil face.
Hermione could hear Harry's steady breathing and could feel it having a calming effect on her. Ginny felt it too and sighed deeply, rubbing Hermione's shoulder.
"No 'kotterize'," was all she said. Hermione looked at her, eyes bright with tears of relief. Ginny's heart welled up with emotion when she thought of what Hermione had been willing to do to save Harry. Her thoughts then jumped back to the danger posed by the as yet unaccounted for senior Malfoy. She approached Draco and hissed at him, "Hold still," before grasping the blindfold and pulling it down. She did not release it, but held it about Draco's neck, noting tearstains in the grime and blood on his face.
"Where is your father?" She said it not really as a question, but more as a statement, that she fully intended would be clarified by Draco in no uncertain terms.
Draco blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. He swallowed hard and averted his eyes, but said nothing.
"Tell me," she said evenly, her hand shaking and knuckles whitening around the blindfold. Draco remained silent, not looking up, his breath hitching slightly. Ginny pulled the blindfold toward her so that the back of the cloth began to dig into Draco's neck.
Hermione watched Ginny for a moment, wondering how far the young Gryffindor would go, and then realized: she just didn't care. When she thought of all the evil things the Malfoy's had collectively done it made Hermione burn with rage. Her throat grew tight and she realized (sharply, because of her blisters) that her hands were clenched in fists and that there was a part of her that wanted, yes, wanted, Ginny to strangle the life out of Draco Malfoy. And worse still, that she felt only a little remorse for harboring such sinister feelings. Then she understood. This is what war does. It takes that which is good and kind and twists it into an ugly, callous thing. The Light side cannot avoid being sullied by that which it wants to eradicate. It cannot 'win' a war using terms set by the Dark. It can survive. She had survived, and in this moment, Hermione could begin to really see what it had cost her. She wondered if she could ever feel good and pure and righteous again. She didn't think so… Turning her back on Ginny and Draco, Hermione shifted her focus to Harry and getting him cleaned up and comfortable. She set to unbinding his hands and stopped again in surprise as she saw his burns were practically gone. There was no charring or blistering on his fingers, just too-pink flesh. She also discovered (less enthusiastically) that Harry must have wet his pants some while ago.
"Damn it, answer me!" Ginny had continued grilling Draco as Hermione ruminated, and was holding the cloth about the Slytherin's neck with both hands now ever tighter, ignoring the pain in her wand hand.
Draco was pulled out of his own dark thoughts by the violent tug that accompanied Ginny's last exclamation. He was thinking if he could just stay very still and very quiet perhaps he'd disappear, or they might kill him. Can you will yourself to die? he wondered.
Ron was ill at ease, to say the least, watching his sister lay into the defenseless Malfoy – even though he had been doing just that himself, prior to arriving at Hagrid's. No. He didn't like seeing Ginny behaving this way at all.
"Stop Gin. Let me," he said firmly. But Ginny just looked up, her eyes fiercely locking with Ron's.
"Lucius won't stop. He will hurt Harry and I am not. going. to let. that. happen – ever again," she ground out, jaw clenched.
Draco looked up at this. "It won't," he said barely audibly. Ginny's hold on him was such that he couldn't swallow the growing lump in his throat. He blinked against the watering in his eyes and saw the two redheads regarding him with venom.
"What did you say, ferret?" snapped Ron.
Draco tried to clear his throat. Ginny released her hold and Draco fell back against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to stifle a whimper.
"He's dead," Draco voiced hoarsely, now looking down at his legs.
Ginny had a glimmer of hope in her tone, "Prove it," she said.
"I – I killed him," was all Draco could manage.
Hermione's hands faltered as she was washing Harry's face and she dropped the wet cloth on his chest. She turned, horrorstruck, to Malfoy. Patricide? Even of a Malfoy, Hermione found it hard to imagine, though she knew Tom Riddle had done it. But Draco, after all, had been unable to kill Dumbledore when he'd had the chance.
"I don't believe him," Ginny said, looking from Ron to Hermione. "This could be a trick."
Draco let out a single hysterical laugh.
"Where's the body, I want to see it," said Ginny coldly. Hermione gave an involuntary shudder and Ron stared, not sure what to think of his sister's single-mindedness. Ginny was not unaware of their reactions. "He wants to hurt Harry," she said, defensively.
"I don't," said Draco, softly. "I'll take you to…him." He struggled to gain his feet but fell back. Ginny and Ron each took an arm and heaved their prisoner up.
"Stay here, Ginny," ordered Ron, holding up a hand.
"No, Ron. You can't protect me. What could possibly be left to protect me from?" She half laughed at the absurdity of her older brother's intent.
"You want to leave Harry and Hermione here alone?" asked Ron soberly. "What if he is lying and Mr. Malfoy comes back? What if there are other Death Eaters out there?"
Ron's tactic worked. Ginny let go her hold on Draco's arm and went to Hagrid's cupboard, retrieving a carving knife. "If this is a trick," she said, steely-eyed, "I won't miss again." And she sat resolutely on the edge of a chair, facing the door.
It was several hours before they returned. The sun was setting as Ron entered Hagrid's abode with Draco in tow. He held the cutting knife Lucius had taken in one hand and guided Draco firmly, but not un-gently, to the back of the hut and lowered him to sit on the floor. Hermione had, after cleaning Harry up as best she could and setting his soiled slacks and underpants to soak, insisted on cleaning Ginny's wounds and at last allowed herself to succumb to exhaustion. She lay sleeping, prone, with her head cradled in her folded arms, across the foot of Hagrid's bed. Ginny had not moved from her position as guard (even while begrudgingly allowing Hermione's ministrations). She watched Ron, silently searching his face for a hint as to what he'd seen.
As Ron crossed the room and put the knife in the wash bucket, Draco inched on his bottom over a bit and let his upper body slide down so that he was lying on his side. He turned his head down to his shoulder as far as it would go.
Tensing, Ginny watched Draco's movements suspiciously and regarded him a few minutes more after he closed his eyes and kept them shut. Then she looked up expectantly to Ron, who just nodded mutely and motioned for Ginny to join him. She followed him to the still-open doorway.
"I need to show you something, Gin." He spoke in hushed tones as they stood in the threshold. Ron pulled a wadded handkerchief from his pocket and unwrapped it carefully, his face twisting in revulsion. Lying in the center of the cloth he held out was a small, blackened object.
"Was it a snake?" asked Ginny, taking Ron's lead and whispering too, as she studied the 'Z'-like shaped object.
Ron shook his head. "It was a lightning bolt." He looked at his little sister meaningfully.
Ginny's jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she looked from the strange object to Harry's sleeping form and back. "What does this mean, Ron?"
"Draco told me –" and here he raised his arm as Ginny opened her mouth to protest, in the hopes of staving off her obvious objection to the source. "Just listen, Gin," he pleaded, and Ginny quieted. "Malfoy told me this was the last Horcrux. He said he found his father pulling it out of Harry's open scar. He said his father wanted to use it to resurrect You-know – bloody Voldemort! Said his dad went mental when he realized it was no good. Tried to strangle Harry."
Ginny's eyes flashed with rage at this and her nostrils flared as she took steadying breaths so that she could hear the rest of the story.
"Draco says he tried to stop him," and it was clear by his tone that Ron did not believe everything from Draco that he was telling Ginny. "Said he hated You-Kn-Voldemort for killing his mum and didn't see why his dad would want him back. Malfoy said his dad tried to kill Harry and when he pulled him off, Harry Disapparated. So his dad turned on him. He says it was self-defense, killing Lucius. He looked pretty ripped about it. I don't know…"
"What about the, erm, proof? Did you see the, uh…"
"He's dead."
In the corner, Draco struggled quietly to shift his body, so that he faced the wall. He could hear most of what Ron and Ginny were saying, and he really didn't want to. It was tearing away the very thin hold he had on his emotions. Then, the hushed conversation faded from his awareness as Draco's mind filled with the events that had led him to this point. He'd killed his father. He felt sickened by what he'd done. Killed his own father, when a year ago, he couldn't even kill the hated Albus Dumbledore. What's more, he'd killed his father to save his nemesis, Harry Potter, 'The Boy Who Just Wouldn't Die'. He hadn't meant to do it. And yet, despite his anguish at what he'd done, Draco couldn't suppress the feeling of deep relief he felt knowing Potter was still alive. He didn't know what to feel. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what would become of him and he didn't care. He just wanted his misery to be over. And then, Draco Malfoy – Pureblood, Slytherin, Death Eater – cried.
Harry could hear sniffling and he could hear distant whispers. But the sad was closer. Someone was sad. On the floor, crying. He remembered Mum-ma had been crying…
Harry slowly rolled over on the bed and lowered his feet to the floor. It was cold and he gave a little shiver, but let himself down the rest of the way so he could crawl to the table. He tripped on his robes when they caught under his knee, but righted himself and kept going, undaunted. Once at the table, he pulled himself up by its edge and reached for the sugar bowl, accidentally knocking the cover off. It landed upside down softly on a serviette. Harry clumsily scrabbled in the bowl, and as his hand came out with a fistful of the treats he lowered himself back to his knees. Harry opened his fist to look at his bounty and all the sugar cubes fell to the floor. He scowled and reached for one. Pushing it inexpertly in his mouth caused the scowl to dissipate, and he sucked on the sweet noisily as it slowly dissolved. Grabbing another sticky and somewhat dirt-ridden cube Harry crawled over to the sniffling, shaking form. "P'ee Bo," he called, earnestly.
Draco started mid-shake, and turned his head, straining to look over his shoulder. His back and neck were stiff and his shoulders and arms ached from having his hands tied behind him for so long. Tears slid across Draco's cheek to his ear. His nose was running and clear mucus streamed over his mouth and chin. He blinked his sodden lashes to clear his vision. It was Potter. Holding out what looked like…a hairy sugar cube.
"P'ee Bo," Harry repeated, and Draco looked at him blankly.
"He's offering you a sugar cube, you twit." It was Ginny, speaking as though she was stating the most obvious thing in the world. She and Ron had stopped their conversation when they saw Harry get up, and had been silently observing his movements with nervous curiosity from the threshold. Ginny still hadn't told Ron about how Harry…was, and she didn't want to, because saying it might make it true.
"Wh- what?" Draco sniffed, swallowing loudly.
"He heard you crying, and for some reason he wants to make you feel better. Tell him 'Thank you', open your damn mouth, and take the sugar cube. And smile at him," ordered Ginny, harshly. Draco was too stunned to argue, and frankly, too ashamed.
"Th-thanks, P-Potter," he said and opened his mouth, though he was unable to hide his look of disgust – the thing was filthy, probably from boarhound hair.
Harry awkwardly stuffed the sugar into Draco's mouth. "Ummm," he sounded, looking expectantly at Draco.
"He's telling you it's delicious. Agree with him," came more steely direction from Ginny.
Draco swallowed the lump whole and forced out in a cracked voice, "Good, thanks."
Harry grinned lopsidedly and laid his head down on the floor, snuggling close to Draco's back. "Nigh-nigh," he said, adding softly, "Pih-ee Bo." Then he pulled a fistful of Draco's robe sleeve close, popped his thumb in his mouth, and sucked contentedly.
No one said a word for a full minute.
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Next up Chapter 6: Why-ever This?
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