Chapter 13 - Keeping Secrets

Being immobilized by females Harry knew seemed to be happening to him frequently as of late. First Brooklyn did it so she could yell at him without interruption, then Ginny at the funeral as he tried to run past the Great Hall, now Tonks seemed to be utilizing this time much like Brooklyn had.

"Whoops, hit your head again." Tonks said nonchalantly as she levitated Harry down the hallway.

That was the fourth time she had accidentally run him into something.

She finally set him down in a bedroom that was not his own. In fact, the house was not his own. She had taken him back to her place. Still unable to move, Tonks paced in front of him a few times before she spoke, her hair now a vivacious shade of red.

"What the bloody hell were you thinking!" Tonks said reproachfully. "Do you have any idea what you have just done!"

Harry was ready with a witty remark, but was still unable to respond.

"Oh this is not good. How am I supposed to explain this to the Order! Oh, well you see Harry got himself drunk and then went on about this prophecy that we didn't even know about, but now we do and so does everyone else. Oh yes, that should go over spectacularly!"

Tonks kept rambling, but he wasn't paying attention. He was more interested in how he was still standing since everything in his line of vision was completely unsteady. He would catch words every now and again. Daft. Belligerent. Irresponsible…he heard that one quite a few times.

Suddenly he fell to the ground. He was now free to move and, more importantly, respond.

Harry wasn't even going to attempt to get up, so he spoke from his sitting position. "Who do, who you think you lecturin me, my mother!"
Tonks looked taken back by the severity of his voice. "Harry, don't you even think of trying to make me feel guilty."

He would have loved to have responded to that, but he was unable to. Instead he scrambled over to the adjoining bathroom where he remained until his body was too exhausted to allow him to be sick anymore.

When he finally awoke, he found himself tucked securely in bed. Much to his surprise he wasn't suffering from a headache, though he still didn't feel the best. He sat up to observe his surroundings and found he was alone in the room. The sun also appeared to be setting. Or was it rising? He had no idea how long he had been out for.

He quickly realized he had not accomplished his goal of forgetting the events that had taken place.

Trying his best not to think about the prior events, he placed his hand on the end table to help himself out of bed, only to hear something fall to the floor. He didn't pay any mind and swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand. It was when he took his first step forward that he knew he should have picked up whatever had fallen to the floor first. He picked up the bottle that was now right next to his shoulder.

Hangover potion.

Tonks must have forced him to take it at some point. He was definitely not going to complain about that.

Just as he was about to pull himself off of the ground, he heard the sound of numerous pairs of feet coming towards the door. Staying where he was on the ground, hidden from the entrance to the room, seemed to be a good option for the time being.

"Where is he!" A voice that could only belong to Mad-Eye Moody himself came. "Where is that rotten, secret-keeping bastard!"

Harry sat up enough to be able to see the doorway. He could see shadows on the wall in the hallway now.

"Don't say such things about him!" Tonks snapped back.

Harry's eyes widened a bit when Moody appeared in the doorway, both of his eyes focused on him.

"Well, well, well…there's the bastard himself!" Moody taunted while stepping into the room.
Harry sighed as he stood up. He'd be damned if he had this all pinned on him. "Bet you wouldn't be saying that to Dumbledore, would you Moody?"
"Course not!" Moody almost laughed. "He wasn't a rotten secret-keeping bastard like yourself!"

Tonks, McGonagoll and Shacklebot were now also present in the room, all looking at him expectantly. Moody was merely five feet away from him now. He had a feeling he was about to grab him and start shaking him for an answer.

Harry however, was not about to give him that satisfaction. Instead, he picked up the fallen bottle of potion and placed it back on the end table, then proceeded to make the bed that he had slept in.

"Damn you boy, answer me!" Moody yelled.
Harry abruptly turned to face him. "For your information, Dumbledore was keeping this little secret from everyone and only told me about it last year. He also made me promise to not tell a soul." He turned his back to him and went back to tending to the sheets. "So, who's the bastard now?"

Harry was about to grab the top blanket when he felt a very strong, suffocating grip come around his neck.

"Anything else you'd like to say about Albus Dumbledore you minging smart arse?"
"Let him go, Moody." Shacklebot said with natural authority.

Moody let him go. Well, he pushed him fiercely and he ended up face first on the bed. He had a feeling Moody had meant for him to fall on the floor. Harry lifted himself up off the bed, but decided to remain sitting this time.

"How long did Dumbledore know about this prophecy?" Shacklebot asked.
"Since Professor Trelawney first made it at her interview for the Divination position." Harry stated simply.
"What about You-Know-Who?" Tonks said.
"Probably knows by now, but what the hell does it matter, he is going to try and kill me anyway." Harry said, trying to mask the anger he felt rising inside of him.
"Don't…" Tonks said preemptively to Moody.
"This changes a lot." Shacklebot said thoughtfully and exited the room after, quickly followed by Moody.
"It would probably be best if you kept a low profile for the next few days." McGonagall said, giving Harry a reassuring pat on the back. "Not everyone is against you, Harry. Remember that."

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Dear Harry,

Before I even begin, I cannot tell you where I received this information, for I will lose this channel if I reveal it. Just know that it is from a very reliable source. With that said, I know where you can find whatever it is that you are looking for. You're not going to like this, but you are going to have to go back to the graveyard where Tom Riddle is buried. I would offer my help, but I'm not even going to bother because I know you'd find a way to get rid of me anyway.
About the funeral…I don't know what really happened when Hermione died and I've heard so many different stories about it …I guess I just want to say that I can't and don't believe that you would have purposefully hurt her in any way.
I hope you are doing better. When I last saw you, you were pretty drunk and yelling at everyone, not to mention the whole prophecy thing (which EVERYONE is still talking about). Well, I hope things have gotten better for you. Hogwarts really isn't the same without you.

Best,
Ginny

Oh wonderful. Back to that God forsaken graveyard. Just brilliantly spectacular. Of all of the places he would have to go, why did it have to be back there? He immediately found himself thinking of Cedric. How he had taken his lifeless body back to his father. Anytime Cedric had entered his mind, he immediately wished it was only him that had been transported to the graveyard.

It would be only him this time. He wasn't about to have another Cedric incident happen.

But the truth of the matter was…he didn't want to go alone.

Maybe Ginny was wrong. After all, he had no idea where she had gotten this information from. He had nothing else to go on though. He hadn't been able to think straight since the funeral. The same cycle of thoughts would keep breaking his concentration when he would try to focus.

Everything was going so horribly wrong, especially after Dumbledore's death. He pushed away the only girl that ever loved him, accidentally got Mundungus killed, got his very own Dark Mark while destroying a Horcrux and everyone found out about it, Voldemort succeeded in possessing him, Hermione died trying to help destroy another Horcrux, Ron now hates him, the only person he had left to relate to and was starting to care for left him, he blabbed about the prophecy, and he's been drunk on one too many occasions afterward.

Harry Potter officially hated his life.

He threw Ginny's letter into the fire. There was no way he would forget what it said. He sighed as he looked at the half-empty highball glass. Tonks was going to yell at him again when she got back. He didn't really understand why, he always replenished what he took.

He was beginning to wonder where Tonks went everyday. She left and came back at the same time and he knew it wasn't Order business she was doing. What he really wanted to know was why she insisted that he stay with her instead of at Grimmauld Place. Whatever the reason, he was content that he didn't have to be alone most of the time, even though the majority of the times they spoke she was acting like she was his mother.

Besides, Tonks was much better company than Kreacher ever would be.

Like clockwork, Tonks walked through the door at nearly 3 p.m. Harry had already disposed of, and properly replaced, anything that would earn him another lecture from her. As usual she glanced around for any obvious signs of his, as she put it, self-destructive behavior. When she found nothing, she sat next to him on the couch and flicked her wand towards the fireplace so the fire grew larger.

"It's getting cold outside." She said.
"I wouldn't know, seeing as I'm stuck in here all day." He said grudgingly. "And it's November, what do you expect?"
"You're irritated enough as it is now, if you go out there it would only get worse." She tossed him The Daily Prophet. "It's almost been three weeks now. Trust me when I say you don't want to put yourself out there."

He apprehensively opened the paper to find himself yet again to be front page news. Without reading anything beyond the headline, he tossed the paper into the fire just as he had done with Ginny's letter.

"Fine, so maybe I don't want to go out and deal with that. I'll just venture into the Muggle world instead." Harry was quite pleased with his idea.
Tonks appeared to be in thought, but she finally responded. "Fine. We'll go tomorrow."
"What! Why not now? Why can't I just go by myself?" Harry whined.
"Because you were in my liquor cabinet again, that's why." The scent must still be on his breath. "How you managed to get through all of those spells I put on it is beyond me."
"Well, they aren't that complex…"
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

Without another word, Harry got up and went into the kitchen. He leaned over the counter and stared out the window. He soon heard Tonks behind him.

"I haven't been pushing you to tell me anything, but I think talking might help." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Last time I tried that, the person ended up leaving." He said dejectedly.
"I think she was very vulnerable at that time and didn't know how to handle it."
He sighed, his gaze still fixated on the empty street outside of the window. "Why would she want to deal with me anyway? She did what any sane person would have…got away from me before they ended up dead."
"You make it sound like she didn't care at all."
"She didn't. She made that quite clear."
"You're wrong."
Harry turned around abruptly. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I just…think you're wrong."
He eyed her suspiciously. "I received one too many 'you mean nothing to me' speeches from her and that last 'have a nice life' one really makes me think otherwise."
"She was just confused and didn't know what else to do."
"And when did you become such an expert on her?"
"I'm not."
"And you lecture me for lying!"
"Harry, this is completely off topic. I really think you need to talk about everything that's been happening."
"You know, maybe you're right, maybe I do need to talk about everything." Tonks' features looked hopeful. "But why would I talk to someone who lies to me about all of that?"

Before she could respond he shoved past her and retreated to the bedroom he was staying in. He quickly cast a complex locking charm on the door before he sprawled out on the bed, focusing on the barely noticeable crack forming in the ceiling. Of all people Tonks had to know a lot about, why did it have to be Brooklyn? He had had a hard enough time before he finally had gotten that girl out of his head, but now…

"Damnit Tonks!" His sudden realization led to his outburst and he quickly unlocked himself out of the room. He found Tonks sitting on the couch, staring into the fire. He stood in front of the fireplace, blocking the flames from her view. "You've been seeing her, haven't you!" Her stare was impassive. "Answer me!"
"What I do on my own time is none of your concern." She responded.
His mouth opened, dumbfounded. "None of my…none of my concern! You have got to be joking…"
"I am not joking."
"Well it is my concern! You knew damn well how I felt about her! I can't believe you've been keeping this from me!"
"It was not my choice to do so."
"Oh? Well, who's brilliant idea was it then?"
"It was hers. I tried to convince her otherwise, but she insisted."

He was taken off guard for a moment. Not only did she probably know everything that was going on with him and supposedly cared, but she was refusing to let him know any of this.

"Where is she?" He demanded.
"Harry, I don't think that-"
"I said where is she!"
Tonks remained silent.
"Fine! I'll find her myself!" He began walking towards the front door.

Harry now had a new person to be angry with…and that person was Brooklyn Fletcher.