Chapter 2 – Judgement

When Harry woke he was nearly blinded by a terribly bright light that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. He tried to find the source of the light but he couldn't move. He was frozen in place.

He tried to focus his eyes but it was no use. He couldn't blink nor could he open his mouth to speak. His head seemed frozen in place and he couldn't feel his arms or his legs.

Thankfully, two blokes wearing sparkling white robes stepped into the light and his eyes were given a rest. The robes sparkled in the light as one of the wise looking figures studied him as if judging him. Each had long flowing white beards and caring blue eyes. Harry desperately tried to get their attention but he was still frozen in place. One spoke as he stroked his beards but all the young wizard heard was silence. Whatever had been said must have been important. The other one moved out of Harry's line of sight and the light again bore into his eyes.

The mightier of the two bearded figures pulled out his wand and Harry was quickly banished back into the blackness.

Harry could feel himself fall into the darkness. He fell and fell. He expected that eventually he would find ground with a 'thud!' but as he blinked he found himself standing in a huge chamber that resembled the Wizengamut, only larger. The room was filled with faceless witches and wizards waiting in their seats. His legs felt rubbery but he managed to stand.

A hiss silenced the crowd, "Today, before us, we have one Harold James Potter. He is accused of the death of one Tom Marvolo Riddle. How plead ye, Mr. Potter?"

The young wizard searched for the voice. It was no use in the dimly lit chambers. He called out, "Who are you?"

"You may call me Oroborus. We have met once before. How plead ye?" hissed the unseen accuser venomously.

"Show yourself!" Harry shouted. His head swivelled from left to right with the hope his captor would come forward.

"That would not be wise. Do you not remember?"

Harry continued to look to the left and the right. Out of the corner of his eye Harry found Dumbledore standing just over his shoulder. "Professor, are you here to defend me?"

"I'd be happy to," lamented Dumbledore, "but I can't understand a thing being said. I'm afraid you are on your own. What are the charges?"

"The death of Riddle. I'm accused of murdering him."

"Oh Harry, this is no place that I have ever been. Something is very wrong. Be careful. I'm afraid you may stand at brink of the abyss." Dumbledore looked very serious. "Harry, you must stay positive. You must hold to your convictions."

"What is the abyss?" Harry was growing ever more worried.

"How plead ye?" hissed the serpent.

"Innocent!" Harry finally shouted. "Voldemort killed himself!" The image of Harry and Riddle circling the Great Hall, each waiting to strike, was displayed like a cinema flick for all to see. The duel played out and Harry pointed when Riddle struck with the killing curse, "See, I merely disarmed him. I am innocent!"

A sweet voice breathed in his ear. The voice was young and she toyed with his hair as she spoke, "Wake Up. You can't remember where it was. Has this dream stopped? The snake was pale gold...glazed and drunken. We were afraid to touch it. The sheets were hot dead prisons. And she was beside me. Young. Her dark red hair. The white soft skin. Now run to the mirror in the bathroom...She's coming in here. I can remember each Slow Century of her Moving..."

Harry was hypnotized by the sweet voice. He felt soft fingers glide down the back of his neck, "I let my cheek slide down the cool smooth tile. Feel the good cold stinging blood. The smooth hissing snakes of rain..."

She was interrupted by Voldemort. He stood shouting before all of them as he rallied his Death Eaters, "Children of the Night! Who among You will Run with the Hunt? Children of the Night! Who among You will Run with the Hunt?"

Harry, confused, asked Dumbledore, "What is happening? Is this a dream or am I dead?"

Dumbledore stared frozen into the nothingness. Sirius stepped out of the shadows and threw his hands into the air:

"Wake Up!"

Harry's very soul and all of his senses were nearly stretched from his body as he was ripped from the chamber by some invisible force. It reminded him of when the Dementer had attacked him on the train years before. He felt as if he was being sucked through a very small tube. He landed hard on a bed. His eyes shot open and he felt as if his insides we being pulled out bit by bit. He felt himself scream but he could hear nothing. It seemed like hours before his eyes began to focus.

Before him stood the same great magnificent figure he'd seen in the bright lights before with his glorious sparkling white robes and his long white beards. He held a twisted white wand just above Harry's scar. The majestic being looked him in the eye and with a smile and a flourish of his wand he made Harry's pain simply disappear. The young wizard tried to signal thanks to the Great Figure but he still couldn't move. Actually, now his eyes could move - they darted left and right as he tried to take in the room. Harry was as petrified as the basilisk had promised. He decided this must be his last presentation before this great being before final judgement.

But then a door opened and both Madam Pomfrey and Molly Weasley stormed in. They were asking questions but Harry couldn't hear what was being asked. The Great Figure answered but sill Harry only heard silence. Lips moved. The man pointed to Harry and smiled. Molly charged the man as if to tackle him. No. She hugged the bloke and he blushed as he walked out of the room.

Madam Pomfrey had a small cup which she brought to what Harry imagined were his lips but he couldn't tell from the angle. She was smiling and nodding and talking as she raised the cup and the liquid poured out. He wished he could tell her he couldn't hear her. He couldn't even feel the liquid...it disappeared just below his nose into what he had to assume was his throat.

The pain was beginning to grow again in his abdomen but it was not as sharp as it had been when he first woke. His body loosened up and he noticed he was now able to hear sounds. He blinked for the first time in what seemed like days. His mouth moved. "Wah. Wah. Wah. Ter."

He was parched.

"Just ice for now Harry. I'll send Molly for some." Madam Pomfrey turned to ask Mrs. Weasley for the ice but Molly had already gone. The door creaked as it began to open. Harry could now move his head to the side a little and he could see Ginny standing in the doorway with her hand over her mouth with such a look of horror that it scared him. Madam Pomfrey followed Harry's eyes, "Dear, you really shouldn't be here now. He still has a ways..."

Before she could finish her sentence Ginny ran up the stairs sobbing. Madam Pomfrey returned to Harry, "Oh Dear. We tried so hard to keep her away from here. I imagine this must be too much for her to handle."

"Wh. Wh. Wh..y.?"

Molly returned with the ice and gave it to Madam Pomfrey. The initial excitement gone, she now seemed to look everywhere but directly at Harry. Her lower lip seemed to quiver but she was resolved not to move. Madam Pomfrey placed a piece of ice on his tongue and explained. "Harry, by all accounts you should be dead. When you arrived here you were bits of flesh and a lot of bone. I don't know what curse you stepped in front of but it nearly shredded you in half. You were lucky because the curse hit you full in the abdomen and missed your major organs. It did damage a kidney and tore away many of the intestines and muscles but somehow they were able to repair it. This specialist by the name of Heinrich Speersbotten was brought in from Austria and he worked a miracle. He was the one whom you saw when you came to."

Madam Pomfrey was so excited that Harry was awake that she couldn't stop talking, "The greater miracle was that you were not severed in two. I saw you Harry and the only thing holding your top to your bottom was your spine and a couple of muscles in your back. The first time in years I was physically sick when I saw a patient I'm ashamed to admit. Your second miracle was Kingsley's quick thinking. He used a very dark magic spell he'd learned as an Auror to petrify you much like Hermione was her second year. You were in a perfect stasis for nearly a week as they figured out what to do. If not for the Minister you would have bled out in a manner of seconds. As it was he was covered in your blood when the Healers arrived."

Molly tried to glance at Harry seconds at a time. After a few moments she couldn't take it any more. She cried out "I'm sorry Harry!" and she ran out of the room.

"Wh. Wha. What?" Harry could feel greater control of himself but his mouth was still stiff.

"Harry, you don't look so good. It'll be a good two weeks before you are able to get out of bed. You are still regrowing skin on your chest and abdomen and your stomach muscles are just beginning to grow back. That curse wouldn't allow magic to heal you so Speersbotten was forced to use Muggle surgery. That's why he was called. He's one of the few healers in the world that has experience with both arts."

Madam Pomfrey sighed, "You don't look like you. Even the healthy parts of you are gaunt."

She must have seen the concern in his eyes, "Don't worry. Speersbotten has healed your most severe injuries. Now I just need time to do all the tedious work and to make sure you take the time to rehabilitate properly. I'll have you looking good as new soon with the exception of some very unique scars."

Harry felt helpless. At least he was alive. He wondered what had been real and what had been a dream. The creature in his first vision looked much like the healer he had seen just after he woke up. He must have woke when they pulled him out of petrification and been delirious.

If that was true what was the vision with the...What was it? He remembered a snake. A girl. Dumbledore? What did he see? He was being tried for murder? Or was it for being a snake? The whole memory disappeared like quicksilver right before him. All he could remember was a strange eery organ song and the hypnotizing voice of some young girl, "Young. The dark red hair. The white socks..."

"What dear? I can't understand. You're moaning." Madam Pomfrey was sponging over his body but the sponge was soaked in something warm and oily. His skin began to warm to the touch and he began to feel happy. Seeing what must have been a smile she explained, "Oh, yes, this is meant to rejuvenate your skin as it regrows and renews. Most of you is all leathery right now. You're skin'll be soft and young again with a few weeks of this."

Her face darkened, "A good sight better than the blokes at the Malfoy's if I should say so. Why, as I hear it, the Aurors heard an explosion and returned to the room thinking you and Kingsley might have been killed. Everyone in the room was burnt to a crisp save you and the Minister. They claim the explosion shook the whole house but when they asked what happened he shouted that it didn't matter and to get the best healer available. The Aurors claimed Kingsley looked rabid... like Death himself.'"

"Minutes later they had a healer there who arranged to send you to St. Mungo's. Kingsley refused and he somehow had you transported here. He had Ginny's room here cleaned out in minutes and the healers were ordered to make the room sterile for a patient. Within half an hour the room was transformed into a twin of any room at St. Mungo's. Rumour has it he sent the invoice to Lucius Malfoy with a note saying that he'd end up looking like the bodies in his Sitting Room if he even considered arguing. I'm not sure of that...it's just talk."

Harry must have shown surprise at the mention of Lucius.

"That's right, you wouldn't know. They found Lucius in his own dungeon in the basement. They had pictures in the Prophet of him being led out by the Aurors along with his wife and son."

Madam Pomfrey scowled, "Lucius is being held at the Ministry and Draco and Mrs. Malfoy were allowed back at the Manor once it was cleaned up. Not right if you ask me but a fortune will buy you many favours I suppose." She grew quiet and almost conspiratorial, "I heard that the Ministry offered to let Draco and Mrs. Malfoy off if Mr. Malfoy confessed to being a Death Eater and said he made his family join with him. The ruddy coward refused. Some gentleman he is. If I was married, I'd wager you a year's wage my husband'd fall on his sword to protect me and my children."

Harry couldn't remember Madam Pomfrey ever talking this much, "Harry, Kingsley isn't well. Mr. Weasley says he hopes when you come to it will take the Minister out of his funk. Mr. Weasley thinks the Kingsley blames himself for your condition. He's been here once a day to look in on you and I don't think he's eating."

"The Aurors have taken over the search for the remaining Death Eaters. They cleared out the Ministry and slowly they've let the staff back to work. The Wizengamut voted that all returning Ministry employees are required to take Veratuserum. It's the first time I've ever seen Veratuserum used on such a large scale. I've heard they've run out and Slughorn and several Potion Masters are feverishly making as much as they can. The problem is that because of the time the potion takes to brew the Ministry is working on a skeleton staff."

"Oh, and last of all. The Prophet announced you were dead. They gave eyewitness accounts from 'unnamed Aurors' who proclaimed that your flame ravaged body was pulled out of the Malfoy Manor. You can imagine the chaos throughout London when the Prophet wrote Chosen One Dead: Prophecy Complete. If they only knew!"

Harry was trying to keep up but his eyes were beginning to feel heavy, "Oh, I've bent your ear enough for one night. I must apologize. I hear a lot but I don't get many opportunities to speak. Now it's back to sleep for you. I'll just be sitting here watching. For now I'm staying at the Weasley's and you are my only patient." Madam Pomfrey brought a potion to Harry's lips. He'd tried to take everything she said in. Now he was feeling so very...

"It's just like old times Harry," she said to herself as his eyes closed. "I sit and I watch while you sleep and wonder to myself how we managed to put Humptity Dippety back together yet again."

ZZZZZZZ

Harry woke the next morning to a familiar snore. It wasn't loud, in fact if he hadn't been sleeping right next to the girl then he wouldn't heard a sound. In this case, her head was just inches away as it rested on his shoulder. He didn't bother to open his eyes but instead enjoyed a brief moment of comfortable familiarity. As if the girl next to him realised he was no longer asleep, she too woke up, "Oh, good morning," yawned Hermione underneath her bushy hair. "I must have fallen asleep." She leaned back stretching in the chair. Harry thought he heard her neck crack as she turned her head left and then right.

"Wh. What.?" was all Harry could force out.

"What? Oh. What am I doing in here?" Harry moved his head just enough to nod.

"I hope you don't mind. I couldn't sleep. Ginny spent the evening bawling and nothing I could say would console her. When I tried to speak to Mrs. Weasley about it she began to cry as well. They are both so worried about you and when Ginny saw you...well, they warned her not to come in but you know how stubborn she is. She thought they were exaggerating. Harry, I love you as much as anyone but you look simply dreadful. I can only imagine what you looked like the day they brought you in." His face must have given away his feelings, "Oh, Harry, I didn't mean...but...well Harry, I've never lied to you..."

Hermione fought back tears, "I promised myself I wouldn't cry." She pulled out a cloth and wiped her eyes, "You don't know how worried I've been. As soon as Percy told me the Aurors were beginning the assault on Malfoy Manor I tried to bring the place up on the map. Percy gave me the address and I was finally able to see it. He showed me how to expand the map so I could see individual towns and even properties. I noticed right away that you and Shacklebolt were in the lead. When..." a tear broke free but she wiped it away, "...your dot glowed red I screamed. Percy had to take me out to the Hall and calm me down. He assured me that you'd been through so much and you'd make it out just fine. I let him calm me down but in my heart I knew something was really wrong. For the rest of the evening I helped move the patrols around and coordinate the Aurors but I always had an eye following you."

"The moment I was excused I raced to the Burrow to find you. I was sure if they brought you here it couldn't be all that bad. When I arrived a bloke was standing outside Ginny's room and he told me that under no circumstances was anyone to go in but Shacklebolt or the healers. I sat at the kitchen table waiting for news...any news...with Ginny and Molly...and my worst suspicions were realized when hours later Madam Pomfrey walked out. She walked right up to me and and hugged me and began crying right on my shoulder. Harry, I've never seen her shed so much as a tear since I've known her."

"But I'm just blathering." Hermione blushed, "It feels so much better being able to see you. The healer seemed to be happy when he left last night. Do you need anything?"

Harry croaked, "Wah...Wah—Teh.."

"I'm sorry Harry. I don't understand. What?" She craned her ear closer to him.

"He wants water, Hermione, and you are not to give it to him," Madam Pomfrey instructed from behind her. Hermione jumped. "Will you be an angel and get him a cup of ice chips while I give him his potion?" Hermione nodded and rushed out the door.

"It seems you have a talent for loosening the lips of the ladies, Harry. It must be those hypnotizing green eyes." Madam Pomfrey raised the potion up to his lips and this time he could feel the liquid pass down his throat, "Yes, I'd heard there were more than a few witches who'd brewed up love potions your sixth year in hopes of snaring you. This, of course, would never be mistaken for a love potion." She winked, "If I didn't know any better I'd think that young lady had some pent up feelings for you as well. She's the only one to come in to visit you that didn't flinch or get sick or run out crying the first time she saw you. She sat down immediately and watched you sleep while running her hands through your hair and repeating 'Poor Harry, you didn't deserve this' over and over again. She's some witch Harry."

How could Harry explain to Madam Pomfrey that he and Hermione had been through so much together that they were now as much family as mates?

There was a rap on the door, "Come on in, Hermione." Madam Pomfrey gestured to the table next to the bed, "If you'd be a dear, please set the cup on the table and help him with a few pieces of ice while I take a few moments to freshen up. Do you mind? I've been in here all night." Madam Pomfrey slipped out as soon as she got the nod from Hermione.

"The Minister should be here soon," Hermione said as she placed a piece of ice in Harry's mouth. "He comes early every morning. The Prophet has treated him dreadfully of late. They blame him for your death." Harry must have made a face, "Oh yes, your death. The Prophet blasted him for taking you into a house full of 'dozens' of Death Eaters. They then blasted him further for killing a dozen Death Eaters without trial in what they called 'a fit of rage.'"

"All considering, he's done an admirable job. He cleaned the Death Eaters and their sympathisers out of the Ministry. The Aurors removed all manner of evil devices from the Ministry building. The Aurors also found mounds of records they've been sorting through that document the 'cleansing' of Muggle Borns and their families." Hermione leaned forward in her chair and placed another piece of ice on Harry's tongue. The cold of the ice felt terrific in his mouth. "There is a rumour that the former regime left the Ministry without a knut. The Ministry had been on the verge of not being able to pay its employees. Whatever talents the Death Eaters had it was not finance."

Hermione hesitated. Her voice became more careful but she sputtered out the words, "On a more personal note, Ron and I are now an item. I know you'll find this hard to believe but I was in Ron's bed at Hogwarts the night..." Harry choked on his piece of ice and made his best effort to cough it back up. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I thought you would be ok with..." Harry kept coughing until the ice finally cleared his throat.

"Nu..Nu..No!"

Hermione was bright red with embarrassment, "I'm so sorry Harry, I didn't realize that you'd have a problem with us together. You seemed ok with it when I kissed him. I thought you knew how we felt..." She stopped as he shook his head as fiercely as he could.

"No! Lis...Listen." Now he'd had some ice it was easier to speak. It was almost a whisper though. "I knew." He grinned, "I saw you in his..." Harry paused to catch his breath "...his bed at...at Hogwarts." His gaunt face made his grin look all the more mischievous.

"You evil little rogue. You had him so worried. He said you asked about me a dozen times that night." She playfully smacked him on the arm then immediately apologized, "Oh, I'm so sorry...I just."

"It's...it's fine." he was still ginning.

Hermione was all smiles now. It had been more than two weeks but Harry was again Harry. And he looked genuinely happy for the first time...since when? Maybe since before Dumbledore's death? Maybe it was the night of the Quidditch match their sixth year when he and Ginny were together?

The door clicked open and both Harry and Hermione were all grins for Shacklebolt and Pomfrey. Harry had raised his hand to fight back her mock blows, "Harry, you aren't over-exerting yourself are you? I will ban Hermione from this room if I so much as see you try to sit up." Madam Pomfrey turned to Shacklebolt, "As you can see he's made a tremendous amount of progress overnight. I've always said if you want to get a sick boy out of bed or get a healthy one in one you need only to introduce him to a pretty lass."

Harry and Hermione shared a look. They had never in their lives heard Madam Pomfrey speak so...plainly? "Get used to it," boomed Shacklebolt. He placed his huge hand on Madam Pomfrey's shoulder, "Madam Pomfrey is a true lady in front of the students but when surrounded by wizards and witches she is the life of any party. She keeps the Professor's in stitches. In fact, it is rumoured, is legend in fact, that she was once able to produce a full corporeal Laugh out of Professor Snape. Would you care to tell the story Madam?"

"Nay," giggled Madam Pomfrey as she gave the Minister a mock push, "And neither will you if you know what's good for you. I am not above hexing our 'dignified' Minister."

"Well then, if we will not be sharing stories, might I speak with our honoured guest in private?" asked the Minister hopefully. The ladies made their way out as Shacklebolt sat in Hermione's seat. The last words Harry heard were those of Madam Pomfrey, "I'm happy to see the Minister finally in good spirits..." before the door close behind them with a "click."

"Well Harry," the Minister looked extremely pleased. "I've been so worried about getting you healthy I haven't thought about what I'd actually say when I got you back. I'm afraid I've fallen behind on my 'Thank yous.' I now owe you an 'I'm sorry' as well."

"What..What for sir?" Harry paused for breath. "Sorry, I...I get winded."

"Harry, I never thanked you for chasing down all of those Horcruxes. Or for defeating Voldemort. Or. Or for saving my life, Harry. It seems I owe you my life." The Minister looked troubled, "Harry, Hermione and Ron told me the whole story of what you went through the months following Dumbledore's death. They told me how you had to endure so many secrets and how you had to go on the hunt on your own - hiding cold and hungry much of the winter in the woods. Dumbledore's portrait filled in parts they didn't know...such as the fact that you willingly walked in to the forest the night of the final battle expecting to walk to your death. He informed me that the last Horcrux was in you, Harry."

Shacklebolt sighed, "But you certainly are a resilient bloke if nothing else. Struck down by a second killing curse at point blank range and you are here to live to tell about it." Shacklebolt could only shake his head, "And now you are here. Alive."

Harry nodded and took a deep breath, "I remember a green flash. You were so...angry. I. I though..you killed me."

"No!" Shacklebolt quickly regained his composure. Harry could see the night replay through the Minister's eyes, "Green? Oh, yes, the spell I cast. It was a very old dark magic spell. It is called 'The Touch of Medusa.' It completely seizes up your body. I'm surprised you saw the spell cast because I knocked you out first. You see, the spell allows a person to be placed in complete stasis but they remain fully conscious. In medieval times it was cast as an act of vengeance and then the person would be left for years to go insane in their own bodies. It is a complicated spell and it is considered dark magic, even though, as you can see, it can have other uses."

The Minister shook his head as he relived the night, "I am so sorry Harry. I knew you wanted to go with Ron and I should have let you. I have replayed the events in my head over and over since it happened. I had no business taking you in with me. And then when I should have been protecting you I became negligent and let you get struck."

"Sir..with all due respect. If I was an Auror...my job would be to protect..you." Harry was winded but he had a triumphant look on his face, "How many Aurors have been able..to stand in front of a spell..for a Minister? Ice..."

"Ice?" Shacklebolt was confused.

Harry pointed to the ice on the table as well as he could.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Shacklebolt took the cup and bent it over so that two pieces of ice and a little of the melted water drained itself into Harry's mouth. Harry hungrily lapped up the water. "You shouldn't of had to, Harry. To step in front of that spell."

The ice soothed Harry's aching throat and he was quickly feeling better and better. "Then who would have? Sir, I am glad I was there. You are the first Minister I've met worth fighting for."

Shacklebolt beamed. He took the compliment seriously. "And sir. I was the one that made the mistake. I was busy watching you instead of behind you. If I'd paid attention.. I'd have seen him and disarmed him..before he hurt either of us.. Even so, if I hadn't blocked the spell you'd have died..and they'd have killed all of us.. every one of us in the Manor."

Shacklebolt hadn't thought about what happened in that manner. He realized what Harry said was true.

"If you made any mistake..you shouldn't have been inside. You are too important." Harry remembered what he'd wanted to ask since Madam Pomfrey told him the story the night before, "What happened after I..?"

Shacklebolt placed his head in his hands, "I killed them all. Even the boy that struck you. Every single one of them. I let loose a spell so powerful I nearly killed all of us. I petrified you and out of anger I cast the spell without taking the time to think or look. It was purely out of vengeance."

The room was silent. This was obviously the first time he'd spoken about it. Harry just left Shacklebolt to his thoughts for a moment. He waited until the Minister looked up before he finally spoke, "Dumbledore once said to me that the only thing that would save Voldemort was if he were to feel remorse. He said Voldemort would never allow that to happen because it was too painful."

"Sir," Harry's voice went cold, "I'm happy that you feel remorse. But you had to do it. They would have killed us at first chance and one of them nearly killed me." Shacklebolt felt strangely vindicated.

Harry changed the subject, "So when do I get to appear in front of the world again?"

These words took Shacklebolt out of his brood and a twinkle returned to his eyes, "Harry, I know how you hate publicity but I really would like to make this big."

"Oh, no, I agree. Hermione told me how the Prophet acted, if it will cause them heartache then I will do whatever you like. I have a few ideas of my own. But first...more ice..and water."

A/N: Not all of the story is so abstract. You probably figured out that the dream sequence was a hallucination brought on by the drugs used during his surgery. The words the girl speaks into Harry's ear are from a poem called "Wake Up" by Jim Morrison. You will find a few interesting similarities between Jim Morrison and Tom Riddle if you read about them. I sometimes wonder if Rowling used the former Doors front man as an inspiration for Voldemort.