The boy smiled as the comforting presence wrapped itself around him, making him feel truly peaceful for the first time in his life. He snuggled into it even as it took leave. The boy frowned as it departed and took him back to the not-so-smooth path called life once more. No, he didn't want to go back, to face the pain and agony; he must find a way out...
Bright emerald eyes opened in confusion as a raven haired little boy regained consciousness. Dimly, he was aware of the voices speaking around him. "...we can't tell until he wakes up...suffering from a near soul ripping...memory damage...magic..." The voice was somehow familiar, but he couldn't really make out the meaning of what was being spoke. He stole the speaker a look; she was a stout woman with a kind face. Right now, she was talking to a very, very old man with snow-white beards and half-moon glasses. The blue eyes of the old man met Harry's emerald ones then, and the man gave him a smile, "Ah, Mr. Potter, welcome back."
Back...the boy's tired brain tried to catch up. "P-Professor Dumbledore?" he asked uncertainly, the name falling out of nowhere, but it felt right.
Dumbledore smiled again, "Yes, Harry. How are you feeling?"
"I…I guess fine…what happened? I can't seem to quite…" Harry let his voice fell as bang of panic hit him. Did he remember anything? Somehow he knew Dumbledore was talking to him when he said "Harry," but everything else was a blur.
"Can you remember anything?" Dumbledore asked as levelly as possible, a slight twinkle in his eyes.
Harry tilted his head, "Yes, a little. I mean, I know I'm Harry, Harry Potter actually. And…" he frowned and the information suddenly came to him, "I'm a wizard! This is Hogwarts…my school."
Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, that is quite correct, Harry. You just suffered from a near-death ordeal for something very brave you did..."
"Albus! Is it wise to..." the stout woman cut in. The old man nodded reassuringly and spoke, "I'll make it short, Poppy; and I'm sure young Harry has a right to know what happened to him." Harry nodded eagerly at that, and the woman left them, muttering angrily under her breath.
Turning back to Harry, Dumbledore continued in a slightly more grave tone, "Harry, do you remember Sirius, or Remus?" The names struck something; they felt safe. Harry nodded.
"Good," Dumbledore looked slightly more cheerful, "As you know, they're your guardians. This is your first year at Hogwarts, the end of the first year, more precisely. And I dare say you are quite a brilliant student here. Near the end of term, you came to the knowledge that the Philosopher's Stone was being guarded at Hogwarts, and that Voldemort was after it."
"Voldemort?" The name sounded...familiar. All sorts of emotions clogged up in his chest at the mention of it.
"Yes, Voldemort. He is the Dark Lord, murderer of your parents and many other innocents, the darkest of wizards. He was defeated three years ago, deprived of a body; and he was trying to return to power through the Stone."
Somehow Harry felt uncomfortable as Dumbledore spoke of the other wizard; he supposed that it shouldn't be surprising, since it was his parents' murderer they were talking about. "W-what happened next, sir?" he croaked a question.
"You tried to stop him and got the stone through your bravery and trueness. But Voldemort sent a lethal curse at you before I could stop him."
"You were there?"
"Thanks to you, Professor Snape informed me of the danger after you left, and I came just in time."
"What about the stone then?"
"Alas, I'm afraid the Stone had been destroyed due to the force of that curse. It was really a wonder that you survived it; for a fearful moment I thought you might not make it."
Harry looked thoughtful, then, in a small voice, he asked, "What was the curse that he sent me?"
"A soul-ripping curse. I believe that he was trying to claim your body. But your mother's love saved you, thus his tainted soul couldn't stay in your body."
"My mother?"
"Yes, you see, she died at the hands of that man. And her blessing to you prevented him from robbing you of what she borne. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love." the man half-closed his eyes sagely.
Harry winced; he somehow...wanted to refute the other man's words. Silly, he told himself, he was the revered Albus Dumbledore – yes, now that he remembered more, Dumbledore was a highly respected man! And why would Dumbledore lie to him? Everything the old man said so far sounded logical, what position was he in to doubt his words?
"What happened to Voldemort then? Is he..."
"Sadly, no. Being not fully human also makes it almost impossible to kill him. However, I do believe he is severely weakened and that we shall not hear from him soon."
The boy nodded, letting the information sink in. Dumbledore spoke up again after he was done brooding, "Harry, what you did was a very brave thing; things could turn out quite...differently if you had not interfered." That was true. He didn't quite expect the boy to go this far, challenging his former master personally. Although Harry took the Stone and unwittingly saved the Dark Lord, Tom did leave Quirrell's body and go for the boy. Probably too blinded byhis desire to return to power to notice the curse at force...what exactly happened after that deluded even he himself. By all means they should both be...gone, worse than dead, erased from existence. He had told the boy it was because of his mother's love; but yet even love could not have been strong enough to withstand that curse, alone. Perhaps Tom did retain more powers than he'd previously thought? Dumbledore had his own suspicions. Thechild in front of him was undoubtedly a very important piece; he had learned of the boy's er, interesting past with the Dark Lord. He knewHarry must be of something when he discovered that Tom had kept him as his little slave. The Dark Lord's desperate attempts to kill the boy once he fell out of control also confirmed Harry's importance. Luckily, as far as he could tell, Harry's principles were that of light, even if he used to harbor some kind thought towards the Dark Lord. And the present situation should help him stand more firmly on the light side. The boy's injuries were caused by Voldemort in a way; a little twisting of truth was for his best. Now thatHarry would only connect Voldemort with hatred, he was surely to be a valuable supporter for the right cause(he would suffer some setbacks in his magic due to this incident, but as far ashewas concerned,Harry would recover well enough to become the powerful wizard the Headmaster expected him to be).
For the first time a glint of triumph flashed through his eyes. He replaced it with benevolence as soon as it came, although it was more of a reflex than concern; even grown men could not quite detect his emotions, not to mention a confused, near-sighted child without his glasses.
"I shall assure your friends of your well-being, Harry. And you probably should go back to rest, or Poppy will have me thrown out. Before you do that, however, you have two visitors." Winking, he gave Harry his glasses and left the room.
Harry stared down at the glasses, confused. His vision was perfectly fine, so why did he need glasses? Yet somehow he could recall memories of himself with glasses; in fact, he seemed to be always with his glasses. Shrugging, he put them on and the world swirled around him. Quickly putting them down again he decided to worry about this later. Soft footsteps told him of others' presence; he raised his head to find two men approaching him. Instantly he knew it was Sirius and Remus. He gulped as he saw Sirius' face; he didn't need his full-memory to know what was coming.
Sirius began, his voice dangerously low, "Let's see, you strode into the Forbidden Forest, stunned a troll, figured out that the Philosopher's Stone was being guarded in Hogwarts, went after the Dark Lord single-handedly, and almost got you self killed...is that it?"
Harry nodded sheepishly, "I..."
"Your parents and we can't be more proud of you."
Harry stared...did he just say... "But...aren't you going to tell me off for putting myself in danger and all?"
Sirius beamed, "You really gave us a fright. And if you scare us like this a second time…" He let his voice sank dangerously; then, satisfied with its effects, he continued, "But we are proud of you. What you did was a very brave thing, Harry. Although I must say that it is a rather Gryffindor trait; are you sure Ravenclaw was right for you?"
Harry smiled back too; it felt very good, to hear that his parents and guardians were proud of him. And it would be even better if he was proud of him, too. Uh…he? Where did that come from? Harry blinked, confused. As far as he could remember, there's no other family figure in his life…perhaps he meant Dumbledore then? Somehow that answer didn't seem right.
"Harry," Remus spoke up, "We'll leave you to rest now. Poppy wouldn't let you leave the hospital wing until tomorrow, so we'll be going home then."
"Home? Has school ended already?" Harry asked as he suddenly remembered.
"Yes, Harry. It ended three days ago. I must say that your friends were terribly upset having to leave before they were assured that you were okay. So I'd advice you start writing to them soon."
Harry winced; his friends were sure to be mad at him for not asking them to go with him. Why didn't he though? He sounded pretty close to them and all…maybe he didn't want to endanger them? That would be a plausible answer for now. Still, somehow Harry just didn't feel like he would be the kind of person to charge after dangerous Dark Lords all alone and unprepared. Sighing, he decided to give his sore head a break; he would have the summer to recover. He nodded and reassured the men that he were alright before they left the hospital wing. A small smile crept on his mouth as he heard the door close softly. Home, he would be home soon.
Silently, a shadow gild over the forest floor. After some hesitation, it settled for a relatively comfortable corner, on top of some dry, fallen leaves. Every second of existence was suffering and pain; yet it held on, a mere step away from death. Any beings with a lesser will would have given up, dissolved into the nothingness. But then, he never lacked will. He had forced himself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist…
After all, despite the bitter failure of his plan, he did manage to evade death – for a second time. But it had been close, very close. Dumbledore must have been desperate to rid the world of him, risking his own friend, Flamel's, life and the Philosopher's stone. He growled in distaste (it being one of the few things he was currently able to do) as he thought of the meddling old fool.
Life had not been kind to him last year, but then when had it ever been? Quirrell had cowered and begged for mercy as he sent seething pain through that useless man's body in his rage when he found out that Black and Lupin had been the ones to raise Harry for the last four years. And, when he was finally near Harry again, the boy had changed – not that he hadn't expected it, considering the kind of corrupting influences Harry had to put up with. How it frustrated him that their connection through Harry's scar had been so weak, and that the stupid boy never even attempted to properly use the ring he gave him! (Yes, he could feel the boy's pathetic attempts near the end of term; but he was absorbed in his plan and anticipation to return to full power then.)
Not that he ever worried about Harry being part of the Light, though. Harry was his and his alone, and the boy would realize that too, in due time. The Light would not do for Harry, that he was sure. Any misunderstanding would be easy to clean up in a later time, he mused. Yet it could have saved him so much trouble had Harry… How in Merlin's name did Harry fall into the hands of Black anyway? He knew his protégé; he should have followed his instructions when he failed to return. What went wrong four years ago, Harry? He asked softly. Well, everything had gone wrong four years ago, an annoying voice in his mind spoke up.
Harry had still puzzled him, though. On the rare occasions when he was able to sense the other's emotions, they usually came in confused knots. He supposed their rather violent encounters contributed to the fact as well. Nagini shall be punished accordingly once he returned power, although he'd probably spare her life in light of her long years of servitude – not that killing snakes brought him much satisfaction anyways. The troll incident had purely been an – accident. It was served to be a diversion and a test to see how well-guarded the Stone was. Yet, what kind of cheek did Harry have to even think that he would want to murder the boy ( that is – apart from his first try eleven years ago), or let any harm befall him for that matter?
Then, Harry surprised him yet again by confronting him in front of the Mirror. It was not like Harry to put himself in such danger foolishly, and the message he was trying to convey was rather odd. Then it dawned on him that the other was actually trying to warn him! The thought had him amused then, and it did show that Harry still cared for him despite the boy's vehement claims of undying repulsion and hatred, how intriguing.
Not that he was unaware of the trap; he had, in fact, expected curses of some kind to be placed upon the Stone. And that was where Quirrell came into play; he had planned on using that pathetic excuse of a wizard as the bait for the curse, and then let whatever fate was to befall him take care of that man, all while he himself would regain power.
Yet he did not expect the Soul-Shattering Curse.
It seemed that the old Headmaster was not that high and noble after all; as he was sure the other man was aware that once activated, the force of the curse would destroy the stone, and eventually kill its maker, Flamel, as well. And that was definitely not a curse of the Light. It was like the Unforgivables, yet far more powerful. However it was not outlawed as few people knew of it, and even fewer were powerful enough to cast it.
And he did not expect Harry to take the curse for him.
Realization came to him as their eyes met, and he had felt true fear such as he hadn't felt in a long, long time. (No, not even when that blasted Avada Kedavra hit him did he experience such fear.) For a split second, he thought of the worst. Even as he left the safety of Quirrell's body and joined Harry's soul in his desperate attempt to hold it together, he knew in his weakened state he was not strong enough to withstand the force of the curse; it was going to consume them both. And then something wondrous happened; Harry's power awoke. While he may have saved Harry at the beginning, in the end, it was Harry's power that held them together.
Ah…such power…Lord Voldemort thought appreciatively. Dumbledore, you had no idea what you now held in your hands, and I would make sure that you do not keep it for long. For only him would be able to help the boy grow into his own power, only he would help the boy to come to appreciate it. Harry would be in a very dangerous situation indeed if any other wizard learned of this; the weak had always had an irrational fear for those who were more powerful.
The thought of Harry definitely put him in a better mood; sweet promises of the future had always helped him through the most trying and forlorn moments. For now though… the shadow stirred, pushing thoughts of the boy aside as it rose noiselessly; he could hear soft sounds of pawns, and he had small animals to capture and possess.
When Harry awoke, he could tell it was late in the morning, possibly even near noon. Last night was the first time he had slept in his own, comfortable bed of Black Manor since the start of term. He was grateful that Remus and Sirius had let him sleep in; he hadn't had such peaceful sleep for a long time.
He rubbed his eyes and felt decidedly better. The memories and pieces of life were slowly coming together; it seemed that his fear of losing memories permanently was ill-funded. The hint of the cool presence he experienced days before greatly improved his mood as well. He had thought it was gone then; now it seemed that the presence, whatever it was, left a faint trace of itself in Harry. It was very faint, thus making it almost impossible to feel it; yet Harry knew it was there, and the knowledge calmed him a great deal for some strange reason.
Sitting up, he regarded his glasses. Well he surely did not need them now, although he was too tired to explaine the previous day. He supposed he could just throw them out and inform his gudians of that, but something in him called for disguising his new-found good sight. Harry really couldn't think of any situation that would require him to "surprise his enemy" so to speak as his inner voice has said, but he decided to heed the advise anyway. Knocking out the glasses, he put the spectacles on; he would have to find out how to make one that wouldn't affect his visions later on.
He skipped down the stairs, suddenly very aware of his hunger. Of course he could just call a house-elf up for some food, but he wanted to be with Remus when he ate; Sirius probably had already gone to work.
Surely, the other man was standing near the door, probably having already anticipated Harry's presence. However, in his hands he held an official-looking letter, and his brows were furrowed.
"Remus?" The werewolf looked up at the sound, he gave Harry a gentle smile, "Finally up, Sleepyhead?"
Harry snorted, "What is the letter about, Remus?"
Remus waved his hand, "It's nothing…some Ministry business… I'm sure you must be hungry by now, so why don't we start eating?"
All thoughts of questions were pushed away from Harry's mind at the mention of food; besides, if it were anything serious, surely Remus would have told him. "I'm surprised that you haven't had your breakfast yet, either," he remarked as he helped himself with some sausages.
"It's lunch for me," Lupin explained. "How are you feeling, Harry?" he asked in a more serious tone, "Albus and Poppy said that the curse might have some lingering effects..."
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just my memories were all fuzz at first, but it's better now. It is nothing long-term; I think I was just in a shock or something. Being home definitely has helped me to remember, but I still feel as if there are big chunks missing, though. Maybe you could help me after we eat?"
A while later found them settled comfortably on the big couch in the living room, with Harry's books, other possessions, and albums around them. Harry stared at the smiling face of his parents, "Remus, tell me about my parents again."
"Harry?"
"I know I wouldn't have remembered them anyway…since they were killed when I was one. But I want to hear things about them, anything; I want to get to know them. I wonder what stopped me before this, but you must tell me some of their stories."
Clearing his throat, Lupin started uncertainly, "Well…As you know, you father, Sirius, Peter, (his voice quivered a little at his dead friend's name; Peter's brutal death was enough to chill anyone's bones) and I were best friends…" he then proceeded on to tell Harry some of their silly pranks and more gloomy adventures after Hogwarts. Harry had listened eagerly, capturing every of his word. Those were fascinating tales for him, and he couldn't wait for more. "What about my mother, then?"
Remus' eyes shone with a strange light, he hesitated before he spoke, "Well, your mother was a very remarkable witch…she always saw the good in people, no matter what…such a gentle being…You might look like a carbon copy of James, but you surely act more like Lily. She was no big bookworm, but she made sure that she excelled at her studies."
Harry found his mouth curl into a smile as he listened; again he wondered why he seemed to be purposefully avoiding getting to know his parents before now. Yet in all his happiness and contentedness, the hollow feeling in his chest still refused to go away. Sighing, he asked the dreaded question, "Remus, what happened to me before I was eight? How come everything is blank whenever I tried to remember anything before that?" He didn't mention that attempts to regain his memory from that time period also gave him a sense of dread, as if he was almost reluctant to remember. Whatever happened, it mustn't be good. Yet he supposed he would have to face his past, if he wanted to ever get rid of that irrational fear.
Remus paled considerably at the question, he stroke Harry's hair comfortingly. "Well, Harry…it, it was bad. You were kept by Voldemort –"
"What? But I thought he killed my parents and tried to kill me…"
"Ahem...that is true, Harry. But apparently Voldemort kept the truth from you and kept you as a slave of his. Albus and we had been pondering over the fact ever since we discovered you; and for now it seems that Voldemort wanted to use your power to his advantage…you do have great potentials, Harry." He squeezed the little boy's hands reassuringly, remembering the withdrawn little thing he had been when he first came to them. He was suddenly very worried; he had thought it would be best for Harry to know his own past, yet perhaps shielding the boy from that part would have been wiser? What if Harry turned back to what he was like four years ago? He had made so much progress...
"I see." Harry's voice was surprisingly calm. He knew Remus had left out more unpleasant things from the way the older man talked. Yet it wasn't what he was dreading; somehow he had been expecting…something else, and whatever happened was long over, after all. Now that he knew all there was to know about his past, surely he could go on living contentedly, and leaving the past behind. "I'm fine, Remus," he added when the other man continued to look at him worriedly, "Well, why don't you tell me more about..."
Review Responses:
Shadowface: Thanks! I don't usually like light Harry's all that much, either.
Lady Phasma: Thank you! And I agree with that.
Aleclovemax: Thanks! Here we go!
NatalieJ: Oh I really appreciate your pointing out all those little mistakes for me! It frustrates me so that no matter how hard I look over my fic, I still leave lots of mistakes in there. Argghhh…English grammar is very complex, lol. And yeah there was supposed to be a line before that paragraph, indicating a change in time frame.
Darkdragonlover2000: Heehee, thank you I think this is more of a "gray" Harry for now.
Darkmark33LV: Thank you! Yes, real life can really get in the way sometimes.
Aryth: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. Here is the update.
Borne-shadow-childe: Thank you! Hmm…my second year is quite different from the cannon; and I'm not sure as of yet whether to include the dueling club or not. I like the idea of Harry having a snake, though….we shall see.
HoshiHikari4ever: Thanks! And sorry if you wanted Voldie to return…well, I guess fate just doesn't like him and he'll have to wait a little longer. Besides, Harry needs to grow up a bit!
Evil Enchantress: Thanks, and sorry for the little cliffy You'll see some of Voldie's thoughts in here, as I dedicated a part of a chapter to him alone for the first time.
Crissy Potter: Thank you! I'll try my best to keep it up.
Shea Loner: Thanks for reviewing.