Chapter 8

You're Not as Dumb as You Look

Harry did not wake up. Not that morning, that evening, nor that day after. Ron's initial explanation worked for a few hours, but soon Mrs. Weasley sensed that there was more to the story. She eyed Ron suspiciously when at two in the afternoon Harry still had not awakened, and Ron helplessly followed behind her as she climbed the stairs.

Though not a healer, Molly Weasley was a mother of seven children. After feeling Harry's forehead, she waved her wand over him performing some basic diagnostic spells, and then glared angrily at her son.

"What happened, Ron?"

Ron knew he could not tell her the truth, but he also knew that he could never come up with a story to cover for them. Finally he gathered his courage.

"I can't tell you."

"What do you mean you can't tell me," shouted his enraged mother, hands on her hips, "Something is very wrong with Harry, and you can't tell me what happened? I want to know right now." In the past, a Mrs. Weasley explosion of this nature would have forced Ron to tell her anything, but Ron had anticipated the arrival of this moment.

"I'm sorry, mum, but I can't tell you. All I can say is that Harry has to do some extremely important things that Dumbledore left for him. I can't say any more than that."

"Oh yes you can and yes you will!" hissed his mother, "Come with me."

Over the next hour Mrs. Weasley, and after she had summoned him, Mr. Weasley, alternately threatened and cajoled Ron in an attempt to learn what had happened, but for the first time ever, Ron would not budge under the pressure.

They did learn of Hermione's involvement - no surprise there - and were relieved that Ginny was not. Ron sent Hedwig to Hermione to have her come to the Burrow so that she could be interrogated as well. Mr. Weasley also summoned Remus Lupin on behalf of the Order of the Phoenix.

When Hermione arrived, she knew problems must have arisen, so she made no pretense at ignorance or manners.

Stepping through the door, she immediately informed the parties present, "I'm going to check on Harry. We can talk later." Five minutes later, Hermione descended the stairs to the silent sitting room of the Burrow to face the dour expressions of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Remus Lupin, as well as the sympathetic face of Ron.

Taking control of the situation, Hermione quickly moved to a threadbare chair and stated, "The most important thing right now is Harry's well-being. He is unconscious but seems to be breathing easily. He would very much not like to be taken to St. Mungo's, but we should have him examined. I think we should contact Madam Pomfrey. She can come and tell us how serious it is, and then if necessary we can either take him to St. Mungo's or to Hogwarts." She took a deep breath as her audience absorbed her words. Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to speak, but Hermione raised her hand in warning.

"I know that you want to know what Harry, Ron and I did last night, but as I am sure Ron has been explaining, we cannot tell you," she explained evenly but stressing the word "cannot." "I can only tell you the following," she continued, "Last year, Professor Dumbledore from time to time gave Harry 'special lessons.' In these lessons, Professor Dumbledore provided Harry with very important information, and Dumbledore strictly instructed Harry to keep the information secret, except that he was allowed to inform Ron and me of some of it."

"But Dumbledore is dead," argued Remus, "Everything is different now."

"Dumbledore wrote a letter shortly before his death which was given to Harry by Professor McGonagall about two weeks ago." Hermione clearly had prepared for the argument. "Dumbledore again charged Harry with the task. The information is extremely sensitive, and Dumbledore stressed to Harry that nobody else should know. Harry made us promise that we would not reveal that information. We will NOT break that promise." There was finality to Hermione's words.

"But look at Harry," pleaded Mrs. Weasley, "Look where your escapade got him. He could die."

"What Harry has to do, as Professor Dumbledore knew better than anyone, will be dangerous," countered Hermione, "but it has to be done. Ron and I know the danger. Harry would prefer that we not help him, but we won't let him, and he knows that he needs us."

"He needs us too," responded Mr. Weasley, "the Order has resources that the three of you know nothing about. If you tell us, we can cooperate and make greater progress against You Know Who. We defeat ourselves if we each act independently."

This was a strong argument, and Hermione knew it. While she considered her counter argument, Ron surprised her by jumping in.

"The Order cannot help with what Harry has to do. That is why Dumbledore never consulted the Order about it. The Order needs to keep doing what it's doing, and we need to keep doing what we are doing. It's like a two-pronged attack in chess. You can defend a single attack easily, but if you can be defeated from two different directions, or more, it becomes much harder."

You're not as dumb as you look, Hermione thought to herself with a smile, for she had never heard Ron say anything so intelligent.

Instantly the smile left her face, and she pleaded with a sense of urgency, "Look, we're just wasting time. Harry needs to be checked by Madam Pomfrey right away. Someone needs to go to Hogwarts to fetch her here."

The validity of these words could not be challenged, and Remus arose from his seat, saying, "I'll do it. We can't floo there, so I'll apparate to the front gate and then find her. We should be back in thirty or forty minutes if I can find her right away." He strode quickly out the door, and they heard a crack.

"We'll talk about this later," concluded Mrs. Weasley dejectedly. Ron and Hermione climbed back up the stairs before she might change her mind. Opening the door, they saw Ginny standing impassively by Harry's bed, gazing at his face. She was not touching him or tending to him, just watching him while deep in thought. After a moment she emerged from her stupor and greeted Hermione with the briefest of hugs; then she left the room without a word.

"What's up with her?" asked Ron reasonably.

"Don't even try to understand, Ronald." snapped Hermione, not in the best of moods, "Can't you see that this has been an extremely difficult time for Ginny."

"Sure, I know. I'm the one who's had to deal with her all summer." Ron retorted indignantly, "but she looked so strange just now. Like she didn't care. Weird!"

"It was a little odd," admitted Hermione, but she promptly pushed the matter out of her mind, as she sat next to Harry and felt his forehead.

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"Other than the fact that he is unconscious," declared Madam Pomfrey in frustration, "he appears to be just fine. His breathing is regular, his pulse is strong, I can detect no internal injuries, brain activity is normal. Without any information as to how he came into this condition, I don't know what more I can do. All attempts to revive him were unsuccessful. Obviously there is something powerful involved here."

Madam Pomfrey remained upset that Ron and Hermione would not inform her of the cause of Harry's injury, even when she promised on her oath as a healer never to divulge the information.

"Does he need to be moved, Madam Pomfrey," asked Hermione, ignoring the implicit request for additional data.

"No, that does not appear necessary. He can rest here just as well as at St. Mungo's or Hogwarts." concluded the healer. "I'll send some nutritional potions to give to him if he fails to wake by tomorrow. Molly knows how to administer them."

Molly Weasley nodded her head and left the room to show Madam Pomfrey out, leaving Hermione, Ron and Ginny alone with Harry. Again, Ginny had said nothing and revealed no emotion.

"Are you alright, Ginny?" asked Hermione with concern.

"This is the way it's going to be, isn't it." Ginny accused them, "Harry and you two are going to go around doing Merlin knows what, and then Harry comes back like this." Her face remained impassive, but her voice quavered with emotion.

"I'm really sorry, Ginny," pleaded Hermione. She liked Ginny tremendously and wanted to stay on good terms with her. "But please understand. Harry doesn't WANT to do this, he HAS to do it."

"Right, it always has to be Harry, doesn't it," Ginny spat derisively, "Just do whatever you have to do." And with that she stormed out of Ron's bedroom.

"You're right, Hermione, I'm not even going to try to understand that one." Ron opined, "Looks like she's gone off the deep end."

Hermione did not say anything, but sat down and wondered.

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Three days passed with no change in Harry's condition. He appeared to be perfectly healthy except for the small detail of his lack of consciousness. Mrs. Weasley, Ron and Hermione, who came by every day for a few hours, tended to him, making sure the necessary potions were injected into him. Beyond that, they waited. Ginny checked on Harry occasionally, but only for brief visits.

On the third day, Ron sat on his bed reading the Daily Prophet when Hermione arrived just after lunch.

"No change," Ron informed her, anticipating her question.

"What do you think happened to him, Ron?" asked Hermione pensively, "I really thought he would have come out of it by now. I mean, he's fine except he won't wake up."

"I dunno," replied Ron, "How does anyone know what happens when you kill a horcrux. Not like it happens every day."

"He was in so much pain when he first drank the water. I think that was the horcrux's way of weakening him." guessed Hermione.

"You saw that better than I did, but it was scary. I thought we might lose him right there."

"He thinks he's going to die, you know," Hermione whispered painfully, "We've got to do everything we can to keep him alive." She moved closer to Ron and spoke so softly that Ron could hardly hear, "I think he's almost suicidal."

"No, he's not suicidal," responded Ron after considering it for a moment, "but he's single-minded, completely focused. He's not even interested in Ginny anymore."

"I know. I wonder what happened between them. Ginny hasn't been herself," murmured Hermione.

Hermione had seated herself next to Ron on his bed, her back leaning against the wall and her left arm leaning against Ron's right. Ron felt nervous at the touch of Hermione's skin and finally worked up the nerve to ask her what he had been wanting to ask for weeks.

"Hermione, what do you think about what we talked about after Dumbledore's funeral."

After the funeral, Harry and Ginny had left to be alone together, and Ron and Hermione stayed seated, Ron's arm wrapped around Hermione in an act of comfort, her head on his shoulder.

They watched Harry and Ginny when Ron asked, "Do you think we should be a couple, Hermione? You know that I like you, even though I act like a prat half the time." The emotion of the funeral allowed Ron to say things that he had never been able before.

"I've been stupid, too, Ron. Maybe we will be. I'm not sure now is the time. We're going home for the summer. We're not going to see each other for a while. And we're all in shock because of Dumbledore." Despite the words, Hermione snuggled closer to Ron.

"You're right, but maybe in seventh year. Maybe we could try." Ron managed to suggest, his heart beating loudly.

"We have to think about Harry too. I think he's breaking up with Ginny right now." Hermione flicked a finger in their direction. "He's going to go after the horcruxes and then after Voldemort. We have to help him. That has to be our priority."

"Right! We'll do whatever we have to do," avowed Ron with finality.

Back on Ron's bed, Hermione considered Ron's question while gazing at her fallen friend.

"I don't know, Ron. There's really no way we could be together now, not in that way. If we were normal seventh years at Hogwarts, only worried about tomorrow's exam and the next Hogsmeade visit, maybe we could. But we have to focus on Harry now. If he dies. . . ." Hermione couldn't finish the sentence, choking back tears.

Her display of emotion awaken a latent fear inside of Ron, and before he could stop himself, he asked, "Do you love him, Hermione."

"Of course I love him, Ron, but I'm not sure how. I could say the same about you," Hermione responded deep in thought. "He's a great wizard, you know. If he can survive this ordeal, he'll be as great as Dumbledore in his own way. Somehow I knew it the first time I saw him on the Hogwart's Express."

There was nothing more to say, and the two friends leaned against each other for support.

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Harry's final attack on the horcrux succeeded. He could sense the anguish of the partial soul as his magic surrounded and crushed it. The horcrux vanished; somehow Harry knew it, though he could not identify a single moment of triumph, no knife to the heart where the enemy staggers in shock, falls to his knees, and then crumbles dead to the ground. Harry felt no triumph; he was beyond exhaustion and felt nothing, except a vague feeling that something was different. Not better or worse, just different. With that thought he lapsed into a coma.

Later, though Harry had no idea how much time had elapsed, he regained a level of awareness inside his coma. He felt no sense of panic or worry. Eventually he would awake, he was positive, but he felt in no hurry. His soul needed to repair itself, for it had been severely damaged by the horcrux.

"How do you repair a soul?" Harry wondered, deciding that all he could do was to wait. Certainly no potion or spell could do the job.

Though his caretakers could not know it, after the first day or two, he was able to sense their presence and hear their conversations. He heard Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis, Ginny's sharp words, and Ron and Hermione's intimate conversation. But none of it mattered to him at the moment, though he was aware that it would when he awakened. Instead, Harry's semiconscious thoughts focused entirely on himself, his strengths, his weaknesses, his failings. He focused on the mistakes he had made in his life - thinking Snape was trying to kill him in first year; too late to the Chamber of Secrets; letting Wormtail escape; Cedric; Sirius, Dumbledore.

Yet his internal musings did not depress him as he seemed completely detached from his emotions. He sought an answer, but he did not yet know the question. In a sense, Harry almost enjoyed himself, as if on a vacation of sorts with no hurry to return home.

Six days passed since the destruction of the horcrux, and Harry's thoughts focused, as he became aware that he would regain consciousness soon. His soul had been repaired, though whether it would be stronger or weaker than before perplexed him. Of one thing he was sure: Destroying the horcrux changed him. He felt he understood himself better, accepted his shortcomings more easily, and had acquired an inner peace that he had never enjoyed. But the answer to the question did not come, nor did he even determine the question. Something was still missing, but he could delay no longer.

"Time to wake up, Harry."

With that thought he fell into a deep sleep for several hours, after which he awoke refreshed, as if from an especially fine night of sleep in a particularly comfortable bed. His body did not ache, his thoughts were clear, and his spirit high. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing, only darkness.

"Am I blind," he wondered, but in a moment his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room. Obviously he awoke in the middle of the night, and Harry could hear Ron's quieter than normal snoring across the room. Harry took inventory of himself and determined his most important need - food! He was famished and felt he could eat a hippogriff. Not wanting to wake Ron, he slipped out of bed and down the stairs to the kitchen, where he found some ham, bread and cheese. He ate three huge sandwiches in the next hour and a half, which finally eased his hunger.

Not wanting to return to the bed he had occupied for nearly a week, Harry quietly stepped to the sitting room and grabbed a Daily Prophet from the scratched coffee table. He sunk into the most comfortable chair in the room holding the daily, but he did not open it. Suddenly everything came back to him. The battle with the horcrux and his philosophical musings while in the coma. It all seemed so strange. While in the coma his thoughts make sense, but now awake, he was not sure what to make of them.

Remembering the conversations he sensed while in the coma, he thought about Ginny, and worry reentered his mind. Ginny was mad at him, he realized, not just on the surface, but deep down. Was this something that could be repaired? Was it something he wanted to repair? Did it really make any difference if he was going to be killed in the end anyway?

With that last morbid thought, Harry heard the sound of footsteps treading lightly on the stairs, and in the early morning light he caught a glimpse of the garish purple robe of Mrs. Weasley descending to start breakfast. Harry prepared himself.

Molly Weasley had not slept well for months now, and Harry's condition contributed to her insomnia. In the past she had been a sound sleeper, but waking at five in the morning was routine for her now. Upon reaching the landing at the bottom of the stairs, she turned right towards the kitchen when something to her left caught her eye.

"HARRY!" she screamed as she saw him sitting in Arthur's favorite chair. Harry stood for the inevitable bone crushing, and he was not disappointed, as Molly broke into loud sobs as she embraced him for what seemed to be a full minute. Harry could not make out the words Molly managed to utter between sobs, but he understood "so worried," "beside myself," and "are you OK?"

When Molly Weasley screams, everyone wakes up, and sure enough within the next minutes Ginny, Ron and Arthur all rushed down the stairs and smiled broadly. Even Ginny seemed pleased at his recovery, though Harry could not help but notice the perfunctory embrace he received from her. Mrs. Weasley assumed Harry must be hungry and moved to rush to the kitchen when Harry informed her of his consumption of three large sandwiches.

Ron ran upstairs to find Hedwig and scribbled a note to Hermione. She would arrive soon he was sure. Downstairs, nobody dared ask Harry yet about what happened. For the moment they would all be satisfied to feel elation and relief at his recovery.

Within an hour, Hermione rushed through the door. She was quite a sight, for Hedwig must have awakened her. Apparently she had thrown on some muggle clothes and not even bothered to brush her hair, which reminded Harry of a female Albert Einstein.

"Harry," she yelled and rushed to him. Their embrace lasted a full minute, to Harry's estimation, though he was not complaining. He could not help but notice the narrowed eyes of Ginny and Ron watching him, and finally he gently placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders to move her a foot away, giving her a broad smile.

"It's good to be back!" he declared to nobody in particular.

Madam Pomfrey had been summoned to examine Harry and pronounced him fit. Later in the day, Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks arrived at the Burrow, and Harry realized that the expected interrogation was about to begin. After what he had been through, however, he did not feel nervous.

Everyone congregated in the sitting room, which was filled to overflowing. At the last minute, Fred arrived too, leaving George to run the store. Fred greeted Harry with an impish smile, as if saying that whatever mischief Harry had performed, the twin approved. Harry, Ron and Hermione were directed to the faded couch against the wall next to the stairs, and the others found chairs, or in Lupin's case conjured one with a flick of his wand.

Molly looked at Ginny and was about to tell her to go upstairs when Harry intervened, "She can stay. I want her to hear what I have to say." Molly was taken aback, but Arthur nodded his head. Ginny gave one nod of appreciation to Harry and squeezed into a chair between the sofa and the stairwell.

Kingsley began, "We need to know what. . ."

"No you do not!" interrupted Harry with a certain anger in his voice, surprising himself and the others in the room. "I cannot and will not explain myself. There are a few matters that you do need to know, however." All eyes stared at him and no one thought to interrupt, much as if Dumbledore had been speaking. "What I have to do, with Ron and Hermione's help, has been explained to me in great detail by Professor Dumbledore. He gave me a number of special lessons last term which included a great deal of secret information. Dumbledore made extremely clear to me the importance of keeping this information secret, for that reason he did not tell anyone in the Order of the Phoenix. I know that this will be hard to accept, but what we are doing has nothing to do with the Order."

Harry paused briefly to choose his next words, and he saw a gamut of expressions. Mrs. Weasley showed worried anger while Mr. Weasley's face creased in deep thought. Remus' face remained inscrutable, but Kingsley clearly displayed irritation. Tonks and Fred both showed a touch of smugness, as if enjoying Harry's performance. Ginny and Hermione could not hide expressions of admiration of Harry's control of the situation. Ron's face expressed grim support for his friend.

"Before last year, we wanted to be a part of the Order to fight against Voldemort, but I now know that joining the Order would be the worst decision we could make. The Order must regroup and continue the fight, but we will not be a part of it. We must follow the path that has been set for us. The Order can be of tremendous assistance to us by taking the fight to Voldemort, making him deal with losses of death eaters and such. What we have to do must remain as secret as possible. At the moment Voldemort has no idea what Dumbledore started and what we are continuing, and he doesn't know of some of our successes. It must remain that way or everything that we are fighting for will be lost!" Harry finished with a passion in his voice he rarely displayed.

The members of the Order were momentarily speechless, until Remus spoke for them, "OK, Harry, I for one am willing to trust you. I cannot say that I agree with your course of action, but I will do nothing to stop you. Just promise me one thing," Remus raised the index finger of his right hand, "Don't be afraid to include the Order if it would be helpful to you. Don't exclude us just because you can."

Harry's maintained enormous respect for his father's last living friend, and he quickly nodded his head.

"All right, Remus, I'll promise you that." The members of the Order seemed slightly mollified, though Kingsley still appeared to be unconvinced, but they all knew that there was no hope in convincing Harry to clue them in on his activities. The Order would have to go its own way.

"There is one more thing I need to tell you," added Harry, whose face suddenly bore an icy expression, "Dumbledore wrote a letter to me before he died. Most of the letter must remain between him and me, but there one very important matter. I'm still not sure I believe it," Harry continued shaking his head in disgust, "but Dumbledore stated as strongly as he could that Snape is not a traitor."

Remus jumped to his feet. Kingsley looked like he wanted to punch Harry. Molly and Arthur looked confused, as if they were sure they did not hear Harry correctly. Even Fred's naturally mischievous smile turned to a sneer.

"You can't be serious!" Remus finally snorted.

"I told you I'm not sure I believe it, but that is what Dumbledore wrote. He said that no matter how it appears, no matter how Snape may be involved in his death, Snape is not a death eater." Harry could not blame the others for their looks of disbelief. "Look," he continued, "I'm only telling you this so that if you happen to capture Snape you don't kill him on the spot."

The others grudgingly accepted Harry's reasoning, but the news about Snape put a damper on what had started as a wonderful day. The Order members agreed that a new meeting must be arranged before going their separate ways. Ginny, who had been overtly supportive of Harry during his monologue, returned to her standoffish attitude and left the sitting room without a word.

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"Dobby," Harry called, "please come here." Two seconds later the tell-tale pop announced Dobby's presence. Harry would never learn how house elves could come whenever and wherever requested.

"Harry Potter, sir. Dobby heard you call. How can Dobby help Harry Potter?"

Ron and Hermione both displayed their surprise at hearing Harry call for Dobby, for Harry had not mentioned anything about his house elf friend. They both greeted Dobby warmly who returned their kindness with a typically goofy elfish smile.

"Thank you for coming, Dobby," Harry said, as he hopped on his bed in Ron's room, where they had sought refuge after the attempted interrogation. He turned to his friends and informed them, "I haven't had a chance to tell you, but I made Dobby the secret keeper to my house."

The two comrades stood stunned for a moment until Hermione grinned and opined, "That's a brilliant idea, Harry. I didn't know a house elf could be a secret keeper. Nobody will ever think that you would name Dobby."

"Exactly what I thought, plus the fact that I trust Dobby as much as I trust you two." Dobby's face flushed with embarrassment at the kind words. Harry continued, "Dobby, please give my address to Ron and Hermione. I authorize you to do so."

Dobby threw out his minuscule chest with pride as he was about to perform his duty as secret keeper. He wrote down the address on two scraps of parchment (he had practiced writing it to make sure he had it right) and handed one to each.

"You must burn the papers when you are done," Dobby instructed them, as Harry had previously instructed him. Harry smiled at Dobby and thanked him, and Dobby returned to Grimmauld Place.

"I'm going to my house now," Harry informed them as he started placing his few belonging in his travel bag. "Right now, only Remus and you two are able to go there, and for the time being I'm going to keep it that way. We need to have another meeting, but I'd rather have it there than here."

Hermione needed to return to her parents as well, so they agreed that they would meet for lunch the next day. Over Mrs. Weasley's protests and Ginny's irritated stare, Harry left the Burrow for No. 17 Grimmauld Place. He had no intention of returning to the Burrow anytime soon.