All the Reasons. All For You.
Frantic? Distraught? Hysterical? None of these words seemed to encapsulate Hermione Granger at the moment. Sobbing, pacing ever quicker back and forth amongst the stands, pausing every now and then to grip the wooden railing, which would crack and splinter under the strength of her grip. She was thinking, but still Hermione didn't know what to do. It had been well over an hour since Harry and Krum disappeared, just as they both reached the Tri-Wizard Cup. It had to have been some sort of Portkey, she pondered, but how? The wards would have to be down for something like that, and it takes at the very least two wizards to take down a ward here at Hogwarts, which means there was more than one trying to get at Harry in this tournament. Oh Harry, where are you? Please come back to me…please…
The professors and judges all crowed around what was the spot of the Cup just an hour before, the maze having been removed after the disappearance of the two champions. Cedric and Fleur were both found unconscious within, and upon their recovery, claimed they were both attacked by Krum from behind. As Dumbledore began to ask them questions about their attacker, a bright flash of white light illuminated the stands. There, not more than fifteen feet away were Harry Potter and Viktor Krum. Instantly the new arrivals jumped back from each other with wands in hand, beginning to duel. The whole crowd watched stunned as the Boy-Who-Lived battled the international Quidditch sensation. Gathering his wits from the shock, the Headmaster cast a shield charm over both Harry and Krum, putting a halt to their scuffle, but even as he did so, a jet of green light sailed from the stands, impacting Viktor square in the back. He toppled over, dead before he even hit the ground.
Immediately, the onlookers screamed and darted in every direction, eager to relieve themselves of the trouble that was taking place not a hundred yards from them. Having enough of the hectic audience, Dumbledore's booming voice spoke out over the masses,
"SIIIIILENCE! EVERYONE, PLEASE, REMAIN IN YOUR SEATS. WE SHALL BRING ORDER ACCORDINGLY. IF YOU CAN STAY CALM FOR JUST A FEW MINUTES, ALL WILL BE SORTED. THANK YOU."
With his speech finished, Dumbledore looked directly at Harry, watching the boy fall to his knees and cry. Upon looking, he noticed the teenager's left side was…broken. Every bit of exposed skin was bruised or scarred in some way, and his robes had melted to his flesh in most areas. Burn marks were scorched up and down his torso. A deep, six inch long gash ran along the underside of the boy's right forearm, stained with dark dried blood, oozing with fresh, red liquid. His face, beaten and torn, would have been in okay shape, at least compared to the rest of his mangled body, if it weren't for the crimson and black blood that was seeping out of his tell-tale lightning bolt shaped scar. Dumbledore gave out orders to Moody to check the area to find out who cast the killing curse, and to Flitwick to tell Fudge to bring in as many aurors as possible to seal off the castle and grounds. As the aged wizard began to pick up his pace towards the boy, a rather bushy mass of hair darted past him at a speed he thought wasn't possible, and tackled into Harry. He was about to remove Miss Granger from her embrace, so as not to cause the poor boy any more damage, when he noticed Harry's face. Within seconds Harry's tear stained, dirty, garbled disposition brightened exponentially. Dumbledore couldn't help but grin at the pair.
Smiling at his friend's rather hardened grip, Harry wrapped his good arm around Hermione, nestling his face in her untamed hair. Tears pouring down her face, Hermione choked out,
"O-oh, oh H-H-Harr-y, wha-what happen-pened to you? I-I was s-s-so, so w-w-worried! You c-can't l-leave me Harry. You just can't!"
Harry tried to reassure her, but couldn't find his voice, so he instead rubbed small circles into her back with his hand. The pain of his body was still excruciating, but it seemed to dissipate slightly in Hermione's bear-like hug. Finally, after a few moments, Harry managed to croak out,
"Please Hermione. I'm okay, now. You think I would ever think of departing this world without you? I'd never hear the end of it from you."
With that statement, Harry collapsed, falling asleep onto Hermione's shoulder as she held him. Merlin. She thought. What happened to him? Who would do this to my Harry?
Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Madam Pomfrey all rushed to the two teenagers. The Headmaster levitated Harry while Snape and Pomfrey began to cast diagnostic spells on him, determining the damage. McGonagall was consoling the distressed young witch, telling her to follow everyone up to the hospital wing. The group rushed through the crowd and up to the castle, stopping only once they reached their destination. Dumbledore floated the unconscious Harry onto a bed and the Potion's Master and resident Healer began their work. They were impeded by an extremely determined young witch who was holding on to Harry's hand for dear life. Forcing her life onto his, making sure that as long as she was around, so would he. As the two tried to tell her to move out of their way so they could help Harry, Hermione shot them a look that could have scorned the Gods themselves, and they were both silenced. Not even Snape felt this was a possible argument that he would win. Know-it-all Hermione would not be dissuaded. After a few moments of wand-waving from the wizard and witch, Dumbledore spoke,
"Poppy, Severus, how is he? Will he be alright?" A note of concern edged into his voice.
Poppy spoke up first, "I don't know how he got into this state Albus, but he is severely damaged. By my count he has over forty broken bones, numerous burns and scratches, some bruised and bleeding organs, and his scar…I'm not sure what to make of that. All of this would be an easy fix except that…" She trailed off, not able to finish her diagnosis to the Headmaster, so Snape took up the mantle.
"It would seem, Headmaster, that Potter has been subjected to some extremely Dark magic, as well as prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus. As for the scar, I may be able to provide some information. I wouldn't be able to say for certain, however, until Potter-"
Snape was cut off as Harry gasped awake, bolting up and grabbing the Headmaster's robes. In a voice no more than a whisper, but somehow bellowed throughout the hospital wing, Harry said,
"He's back! Voldemort's back, sir! He-he…he wanted me. He said he needed my blood for his resurrection. He's come back, sir. I fought him, he's…he's…" Hermione squeezed his hand to soothe his aches and pains, as Dumbledore told him to settle down and that he was safe. Slowly, Harry began to tell the story of what happened after he and Krum touched the cup. It was indeed a portkey, and it transported him and the other champion to a graveyard, where Voldemort and Pettigrew were waiting. He described the ritual and being tied up by Krum, and how Pettigrew used his blood to revive Voldemort to full strength. How he dueled with the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, about the connection between the wands, and how Krum latched on at the last moment as Harry dove for the portkey to bring him to safety. With the last of his story told, he passed back out, the worry still etched in the lines of his battered face.
Everyone was stunned. Harry fought a reincarnated Voldemort? And lived? Snape gave Dumbledore a knowing nod of the head, confirming his suspicions. At once, a plan began to form in the mind of Albus Dumbledore.
"Severus, I must ask you, once again, to do what is necessary. Poppy, fix Harry up as best as you can, and then send him to my office. No buts, Poppy, this is of vital importance. Minerva, you and I shall inform the other teachers and minister what has happened. We need to act quickly. As for you, Miss Granger…" Dumbledore looked down upon the youthful 4th year. As indomitable as Hermione's will was, the old wizard was aware of the fear and unease behind her eyes, as if at any moment she would break down and lose herself in that worry and apprehension for her friend. But she wouldn't. She would not let anyone see that alarm, that anxiety. She would hold true for the boy next to her. She would stand firm, never letting him down. Smiling, Dumbledore placed one hand upon her shoulder,
"As for you, Miss Granger…don't you dare let anyone near him apart from Ms. Pomfrey. Hold on to him, child. He needs you more than you know."
The smallest of smirks appeared on Hermione's face at Dumbledore's words. For a moment she feared that she would be forced out of the room, and as resolute as she was in her mind, she didn't think she'd be able to ward off the Headmaster if it came down to it. She would, however, not part from Harry. Not now. Not when he was so injured and weak. He needed her, and she wasn't going anywhere.
She watched as the three professors left the wing. At the door, Professor Snape gave a long look back at Harry. She noticed something in his eyes. It wasn't quite concern, but…curiosity? Maybe? She couldn't tell, and before she could decide he whipped his cloak around, billowing itself behind him as he marched away down the corridor, hot on Dumbledore's and Minerva's heels. Deciding to file the look away for later, Hermione turned back to Harry. He was a right mess, but at least she knew he would be okay. Sitting down in the chair next to his bed, with her hand still entwined with Harry's, she began to let the full focus of what happened sink in on her. Harry had once again faced off against Voldemort, and once again managed to escape his wrath. He was battered and aching, true, but he was alive, that was the important part. How much more will you have to go through Harry? How many times will you have to face this sort of terror? First when you were a child, Voldemort ripped you away from your family. Then all the years you had to endure at the Dursley's, only to have to fight Quirrell in your first year ever at Hogwarts, only to go back to those horrid relatives. Second year you had to endure the scorn of the entire school as the Heir of Slytherin, all because you could hear the Basilisk in the walls, only to have to fight a young Tom Riddle and his giant pet snake by yourself. Last year all the worry about Sirius Black and finding out who truly betrayed your parents. And this year…this blasted tournament, all those tasks and now…and now this…How? How do you do it Harry? How have you gone through so much horror and strain in your life and still have turned out to be such a loving, caring person? You're not alone Harry in this anymore Harry…All your friends are here for you…I'm here for you…
After an hour so of Pomfrey working on her patient, she declared that he was more than stable, and that it would just take a bit of time for his injuries to heal. Soon after her work was finished, the doors to the wing burst open, revealing Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Professor's Dumbledore and McGonagall, and most of the Weasley family. Luna, Neville, Ron and the Twins rushed to Harry's bedside, steering clear of a very visibly upset Hermione Granger. Dumbledore spoke,
"It's okay, my dear. They're only here to check to see that Harry's alright. They'll be leaving here immediately, as will Harry. Poppy, seeing as I'm already here, I'll take Mr. Potter up to my office. There are certain things he and I need to discuss." Waving his wand, Dumbledore began to float Harry from the bed and levitate him out to the hall. Hermione still clutched Harry's hand in hers all the way to the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's Office. The current leader of the school muttered Ice Mice and led the two up the staircase. Once inside, Dumbledore conjured a bed to lay Harry upon, and a chair for Hermione to sit in. As he finished, Dumbledore spoke to Hermione in his very grandfatherly voice,
"Miss Granger, you may stay in here until Harry awakens, which should be a few hours yet. However, once he does I must ask that you leave for a short while. I have something to discuss with young Mr. Potter and it is for his ears only." Hermione began to retort only to be cut off by an endearing look from the old man. "Don't fret, my dear. You will be able to wait just outside my office, and I'm more than certain that Harry will wish to relay everything I tell him. I don't fool myself for a moment into thinking that Harry will keep quiet about it, but I'm afraid that it must be his decision, not mine. You understand?"
Hermione just nodded as she looked up into Dumbledore's face. She knew the Headmaster wouldn't let any harm come to her Harry in here directly under his nose. With that, Dumbledore swept towards his desk, settling down and popping a lemon drop in his mouth, as if nothing were wrong with the world.
Hours passed, the silence only interrupted by the arrivals of Severus to report on his dealings with the Dark Lord, and by Mad-Eye Moody and McGonagall, stating that although they hadn't been able to apprehend the culprit responsible for murdering Viktor Krum, Karkaroff was nowhere to be found, and finally by the arrival of the Minister of Magic, accompanied by four aurors at his flank. Fudge took no notice of the boy sleeping in the bed next to Dumbledore's desk, and instead began to irately pester the man behind it.
"How can you possibly cause this disturbance Albus?!" The minister raged. "Claiming that You-Know-Who is back can only cause an uproar! What will the masses think?! We cannot allow this continue, Albus. There's no proof that the Dark Lord has returned, and I for one will not deal with the ramblings of an old fool!"
Dumbledore began to banter back and forth with the Minister, their voices rising steadily. Everyone in the room began to watch as the two men began to argue, shouting back and forth. Seemingly out of nowhere, a small voice said,
"You're quite the fool, Minister, to not take head of Professor Dumbledore's warning."
"HARRY!" Hermione jumped him, squeezing him with her embrace.
Harry laughed, "Thanks Hermione, I needed that."
She beamed, "I'm so glad you're okay Harry. You really worried me, everyone really."
"If you're quite finished, may I inquire as to why you think you can call me a fool, boy?" The minister's tone was like ice, dislike layered into every word he spoke.
When Harry tore his eyes from Hermione, she saw a flash of something in them, something she had never seen before. It was hate. Pure loathing. He never even looked at Professor Snape with such a malice before.
"I have nothing to say to you. I was awake for most of your conversation with the Headmaster, and came to the conclusion, Cornelius, that you're even more ignorant than half the first years at this school." Harry spoke with an authority Hermione had never heard before. It almost frightened her, to her Harry talk to someone like that. "If you don't believe someone as great as Dumbledore, you're surely not going to listen to a witness as to what happened. You're a very arrogant man if you think you can just whisk the idea of Voldemort returning under the table. He's back. You're either going to accept it or you're not, but I will make no attempt to convince you. Oh, and leave my winnings. Seeing as I won the tournament, I believe I'm entitled to the thousand galleon prize money."
"You egotistical little brat! Do you honestly think you can speak to me in such a manner and get away with it?! I'll have you locked up in Azkaban for this!"
"No, minister, you won't. I did nothing illegal, just merely stated your incompetence, which is not against the law, although I'm sure you'll try to make it so upon your return to the ministry. And even if you do, you think you can take on the Boy-Who-Lived minister? I've stood next to Voldemort four times in my life, and each time came out the victor. How do you think you'll fair when the most powerful dark wizard of all time couldn't defeat me?"
Hermione, Fudge, and the four aurors looked at Harry with completely dumbfounded expressions. Only Dumbledore seemed to have the glimmer of a chuckle about his features. Fudge dropped the sack of gold coins onto Dumbledore's desk. He motioned for his guard to follow him out. As he stood at the exit of office, he looked back at Harry,
"Don't think you've heard the last of this, boy. I have more money and power than you could possibly imagine. Your life is about to become a hell of lot worse for wear."
"Please, minister. I've lost both my parents and lived in an abusive household for fourteen years. Not to mention there's a certain Dark Lord that has an unhealthy interest in me. I'm not afraid of you." Harry smirked, then continued his rant, "Oh, and Minister? . . . Voldemort!"
Harry laughed as Fudge and the aurors once again shuddered at the mention of the Dark Lord's name before promptly excusing themselves.
"Harry I must say, not many people could have handled that situation with such…fervor. Most cower at the type of political power Cornelius yields." Dumbledore seemed quite amused with Harry's choice of words.
"Well, sir, I've done a lot of growing up in the past few hours. Now that Voldemort's back, and he seems to have a unique interest in me, I fear I'll have to do even more maturing much more quickly than I would like. I'm not going to let someone like Fudge run my life, the Dursley's tried to do that to me for far too long. I won't let someone else control me."
"Hear hear, my boy! Your parents would be quite proud of the man you're becoming Harry, if I may say so. But, alas, I have some discomforting news for you. You may be angry with me when I tell you, Harry, but I assure you I say it to you now with a heavy heart. This is not something any man should have to deal with, let alone a fourteen year old. But, your actions recently have certainly warranted the truth, which I will more than gladly inform you of." Although he began his speech with a cheerful tone, by the end of it, Dumbledore looked to be a bit…worn. As if he was every bit of his age that he looked.
Hermione began to get up, but was held still by Harry. She smiled and said,
"Harry, I'll be just outside the door. Professor Dumbledore says you need to be alone for this. It's for your ears only. If you feel the need to tell me afterwards, please know that you can." She clenched his hand tightly for a moment, showing him her support, and quietly left the room. Harry stared after her as she walked away, turning to the Professor as she closed the door.
"Harry, what I'm about to tell you, is the reason that Voldemort attacked you and your parents on Halloween all those years ago." He began with a very somber expression. "Please understand that I have only kept this from you because I did not want you to grow up with this burden upon you. You had, and have, every right to know, which is why I tell you now. I know you've been through quite an ordeal tonight, and I'm afraid I must ask you to bear one more encumbrance before it is through."
Sighing heavily, he continued. "Fifteen years ago, I was interviewing a candidate for the position for the Divinations Professor. Our very own Professor Sybil Trelawney. Most of the meeting was, shall I say, tedious? Regardless, as I was wrapping up the conference, she spoke of a prophecy, much like the one you heard your third year. Only this one was about none other than Lord Voldemort himself, and contained information regarding the one who could defeat him once and for all."
* "'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches . . . Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies . . . And the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not . . . And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.'" *
A long silence descended upon the study. Harry showing almost no emotion. Dumbledore decided to continue.
"This is the reason Voldemort murdered your parents Harry. He came to learn about a portion of the prophecy, and so he set out to kill you before you could grow to fulfill it. He marked you as his equal by giving you that scar. I have many theories about what happened that night, Harry, which I will more than gladly share with you, if you'd like to know."
Harry sat in the chair across from Dumbledore's desk. His face one of…indifference. When he spoke, it was with a calm he didn't know he possessed.
"I see. I…understand, sir. I feel I'm right…angry about it, but I know if I had to tell someone what you just told me, it wouldn't be an easy thing to say."
"Quite true, Harry. But I feel as if you're about to let me off the hook, something I don't think I've rightly earned."
"It's not your fault, professor," Harry began, "It's Voldemort's. He's the one to blame. If not for him, none of this would have happened. My parents, the prophecy, everyone who lost a loved one. It's him. I had a feeling something like this would happen. Why else would he have such a bizarre curiosity in me? I'm upset, sir, but I'm more than willing to put that aside for what comes next. As I understand it, I have a power than can defeat Voldemort, but I'm not sure what it is. I will, however, be doing everything I can from this point onward to train. To better myself. I will be the one to stop him, sir. Maybe I can't do it now, but I will. I promise you that."
Dumbledore looked upon the boy, tears beginning to well up behind half-moon spectacles. Part of him was relieved that Harry had taken the news so well, heaven knows he didn't deserve it. And part of him was glad to see the man Harry was becoming. Willing to sacrifice, to endure, to train, to fight, all for the sake of defeating a monster. And lastly a part of him was sad. He had a feeling he was watching the last of Harry's childhood walk out the door, and he felt horribly guilty that he was the cause of such a heinous crime.
"Harry, your parents…no, I, I could not be more proud of you than I am at this moment. But I daresay in the times to come, you'll no doubt prove me even more wrong in stating that." Dumbledore stood and bowed slightly. "You truly are an amazing young man Harry, and it is my privilege to have known you as I have." Dumbledore straightened up, with an infectious smile plastered about his face. He asked, "Now Harry, I have many things to discuss with you. Most of them concern Lord Voldemort. Would you like to hear them now? Or would you rather wait for a more…appropriate time?"
Harry thought for a moment. "Now, sir. Let's get it all out of the way. I wish to begin training as soon as I am able."
And with that, the Headmaster began to recant his tales and knowledge of the Dark Lord. Explaining his theories about what happened the night Voldemort died, along with his conjectures about Horcruxes and what they might be. Harry listened to the stories with rapt attention, slightly awed by the amount of research and work Dumbledore had put into his suppositions. Then again, nothing with the Headmaster could truly be considered mere guesswork.
By the end of the conversation, which consisted of a revelation, a small argument, and the beginnings of a master plan, Harry was exhausted. He bade the Headmaster goodnight, telling him he was going back to the hospital wing for some dreamless sleep potions and pain killers. At the door, Harry stopped to say one final thing to his mentor, "and don't worry sir, I'm not worried about my loss of innocence. In truth I've never really had much to begin with. But by the time we're through, I will make sure that no one ever has to lose their childhood to Voldemort again. I'll finish this, one way or another. I have all the reason in the world to stop him, and I'll be damned if anything gets in my way."
Harry finished his parting words to Dumbledore, and walked down the spiral staircase, ready for a long, restful sleep. Out of the shadows of the nearly deserted office, Severus Snape came into view.
"Can you really hate the boy, Severus? After everything you just heard, how is it possible to have any sort of hate for that man?" Dumbledore spoke, his voice barely a whisper above the metal instruments clanking away in front of him, as if speaking only to himself. To which Severus replied,
"He certainly has the arrogance of his father if he thinks he can get away with such an arrangement. She is, after, the brightest witch of the generation." He began to walk towards the door before he sighed, "but, then again, Lily was also the brightest of us…and the boy that just left this office was every bit as determined as she used to be. . . He may look like his father, but he has more of his mother in him than I would ever care to admit . . ." Snape strode from the room, heading down towards the dungeons. If anyone ever asked, no one would ever know that a single tear fell down his face as he left the Headmaster's quarters. And certainly no one would ever know that tear was shed for Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived.
End Chapter 3.