Disclaimer: Nope.
Author's Note: Hey guys, and thank you so, so much to those who were able to review. Email notifications are down again, but some people still were able to know that I updated the last chapter. I'm guessing it's all the people who have the actual Fanfiction app who knew right away, although I know by one review that they actually checked manually, and I'm extremely appreciative of that. I swear to Merlin, this website is so finicky. I wish there was another way to let people know that I've updated. I'm really hoping that they get notifications up again soon.
In any case, I'll keep going, because I love this too much to stop. And you guys are awesome, and I'm super happy you enjoyed the chapter!
I'm really glad that you're enjoying how I'm incorporating the Hallway of Humanity into this story. As I've said, the idea was sparked by my own struggles with anxiety and the different techniques that can be used to combat it. Creating a magical construct that's all about mindset was something I really enjoyed doing, and I'm so glad it worked for the story! At the end of April, I had my own absolutely amazing experience in Philadelphia that created the same feelings in me that my Hallway of Humanity does for the story. It's actually because of that event that I created the hallway in the first place - it was an extremely recent addition to the plot. "Remember Philadelphia" has actually become my own mantra these days.
I'm glad you liked the world-building in the last chapter, and that I made it less overwhelming. I admit that there was a heck of a lot of info packed into chapter 87, and I'm glad that you enjoyed how I did it in chapter 88. I'm loving exploring how the American wizarding world operates.
I'm glad you enjoyed Sirius's admission about his ignorance of the Muggle world. I think that many witches and wizards are just like him - well-meaning, but not knowing an awful lot. Sirius will definitely learn a lot more by the end of this.
Yes, Harry would definitely be one to go against Dementors. Not only did he have his own struggles with them, but he sees the effects they had on Sirius. Plus, they certainly wouldn't do anything to rehabilitate any of the guilty prisoners. I also agree that the Ministry would want to postpone the issue until after the war.
Anyway, here's the next chapter. I ended the last one on a cliffhanger, so I'm hoping you enjoy how the story continues.
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Lord Voldemort was consumed by rage as he stared at the headline of the Daily Prophet that Marcus Flint, Jr. had handed him. The boy was shaking as he knelt before the wizard, his Death Eater mask covering his face. But his eyes showed the fear he was feeling.
How dare they! How could they? How dare ... it was absolutely preposterous. How dare they come to this decision! How dare ... how dare they decide to allow filthy Muggles to ... to ... to ...
The rage blinded him, scalding every inch of his body. His red eyes burned with an endless fury, his slits for nostrils flaring. His lips pulled back in a snarl of complete and utter hatred at the incompetent fools that made up the school governors and the Ministry.
He had been positive that their fear of him would stop this from going forward. He was absolutely sure that his reign of terror would sow the seeds of doubt in many minds. Why put the ignorant masses in danger? Why get ... them ... involved in wizarding affairs? And all of this, so that some ignorant, worthless parents could discuss insignificant drivel with the Hogwarts teachers?
How had it come to this? How? It was insanity. It was ... it was ... it was ...
"Get out of my sight, Flint." Voldemort spat the words, and his cowardly servant scurried out of the room. It was just as well, because Voldemort was in such a rage that if Flint had stayed in the room any longer, the Dark Lord would have been sorely tempted to ...
He stared fixedly at the words, still unable to fathom the depths that certain individuals had sunk to. These were the governors who were so terrified of what their children might face when in the same school as Harry Potter that they had banned him from returning. These were the same governors who had folded when Lucius Malfoy threatened to hurt their families if Dumbledore wasn't removed from Hogwarts. Voldemort had been in exile then - but he'd certainly heard the story after the fact.
But maybe, it wasn't so surprising after all, since these were the same governors who had listened to childish pleas from a few brats about letting Potter return to Hogwarts, and they had buckled. Maybe it hadn't taken much convincing for them to agree to allow filthy Muggles to infest the hallways of Hogwarts, tainting it, ruining the sanctity of the ancient castle. It was truly disgusting.
And so, Lord Voldemort knew the time had come to make some big plans. Those people would rue the day they ever decided to be like those revolting Americans, who thought themselves so progressive and so accepting, even though there were areas in the country where magic wasn't to be used at all. It was laughable.
"Incendio," Voldemort hissed, pointing his wand at the newspaper. The entire thing burst into flames in less than a blink.
The article was no more, but the words would forever remain in his memory:
SCHOOL GOVERNORS AND MINISTRY OF MAGIC CLEAR THE WAY FOR MUGGLE PARENTS TO ATTEND HOGWARTS' PARENT-TEACHER CONFERENCES
Lord Voldemort would put a stop to this madness, and he would never let the wizarding world forget.
xxx
The pain was incredible. If Harry hadn't been sitting down already, he would have collapsed on the spot. His scar was on fire, and the heat was so intense that he felt like he was being cooked in an oven.
He couldn't help the scream that ripped out of him. He completely forgot where he was as waves of anger rolled over him - pure hatred suffused every atom of his being. It pounded through him like an electric current, sizzling and crackling within him, saturating his entire soul.
The anger and hatred was not his own, and Harry struggled to fight through it, trying to remind himself that he was separate from the terrible emotions. He would not let himself sink into them - he had to remember who he was. He had to remember.
He heard voices around him, but the pain was so intense that he was having trouble breaking through it to figure out who was speaking to him. He couldn't respond even if he wanted to.
Finally, a sensation broke through the cacophony of pain and anger and hate. It was grounding, and helped to center him. He felt a hand within his own, squeezing it with a desperate intensity.
Then, he finally made out Sirius's voice. "Harry. Harry, breathe. Breathe and occlude. I'm right here, kiddo."
Sirius's voice was shaking, but it was obvious that he was trying to stay calm. But Harry heard the fear in his voice. The boy couldn't blame him, though - it was obvious the amount of effort he was putting into it. A surge of love that he knew came from no one but himself rolled over him, but the anger and hatred attempted to overpower it.
No, Harry thought. No, Voldemort. Whatever's happened that you're enraged about - you're not doing this. You're not taking away who I am.
"That's it, Harry. Breathe, and occlude. You are feeling his emotions, not your own. He can't destroy you if you don't let him."
Dixon's voice was very calm, as if he dealt with teenage boys experiencing the emotions of dark wizards on a regular basis.
Sirius continued to hold tightly onto Harry's hand, whispering two words to him that gave him the strength to endure.
"Remember Philadelphia."
Harry closed his eyes, still fighting the waves of pain and anger that swept over him, but Sirius's words brought up the feelings that last night had produced. There, in the wizarding district of Philadelphia, he had felt incredible. He had felt whole in a way he never had before. It felt like that hallway was where miracles were born.
In his mind's eye, it sprang into being, and the magic of it rose up around him. Harry kept the image in his mind as the seconds passed, remembering what it had given him. He remembered holding tightly to Sirius's hand and bringing him out of the depressed state he was in. Now, Sirius was giving back to him, attempting to do the same.
The pain began to diminish, and the foreign feelings of anger and hate grew less severe the longer he let himself sink into the image. He let no other thoughts enter his mind, focusing on what Moody had taught him in his Occlumency lessons. He had told Harry to find his center, to find an image that he could summon at any moment. And, last night, Dixon had handed him something that he could employ.
He had tried other images in the past, such as the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, the Burrow's living room, and, his most successful to date, the couch in Grimmauld Place's drawing room where he and Sirius spent so much time. The memories associated with it would be cherished for the rest of eternity.
But the immense power that was contained in the Hallway of Humanity - Harry latched onto it like a lifeline. He saw the joy on Sirius's face, and the utter peace on Dixon's. He saw the lights glittering and glimmering, the newspaper with the current date, and the rubbish clear from the floor.
And, eventually, the foreign hate and anger drained out of him, leaving him feeling exhausted. He wanted to keep his eyes closed, but with an effort, he pried them open.
"Thank you," he said quietly, looking into Sirius's eyes. "It's gone. He's gone."
Sirius instantly embraced him, and Harry could feel his body trembling. "Oh, kiddo," he whispered, carting a gentle hand through Harry's hair. He obviously didn't care that Healers Dixon, Frampton, and Fields were in the room.
But they didn't seem to care, either. Dixon was looking at Harry with pride, while both Frampton and Fields were gazing at him with compassion and empathy.
Finally, Harry left the security of Sirius's arms to look at the Healers. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he whispered.
Still, none of the Healers looked disconcerted or afraid. Instead, they just looked sad.
"Don't be." Healer Fields's voice was exceedingly gentle. "We're sorry that you have to endure what you just did."
Sirius looked equal parts stricken and proud. "You fought him off, kiddo," he whispered emotionally.
"Because you helped. I remembered Philadelphia," Harry answered quietly. Addressing the two American Mind Healers, he asked, "Have you heard of the Hallway of Humanity?"
"Of course we have," said Healer Frampton, while Healer Fields nodded. "It's one of the most revered places in this country, although many have never gotten a chance to see it."
"Healer Dixon took us there last night," Sirius said, still sounding overwhelmed.
"Ah." Frampton nodded knowingly. "A most excellent idea, to venture there," he said to Dixon.
"Did you ..." Sirius was still looking stricken, and Harry's eyes returned to him. "Did you ... see anything? Did Voldemort ..."
The fear in Sirius's voice made Harry's heart ache. His mind began to work again, and he felt a sudden tremor move through his body.
Why had Voldemort been so angry? What had happened? Did he somehow know that he and Sirius were here?
Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. If he knew about that, then ...
"No," Harry said in a tiny voice. "I ... I didn't see anything. Voldemort ... he's absolutely enraged over something."
Sirius's face went white. Had someone in the Order who knew about this outing ... had they been captured? Had they been forced to tell Voldemort what was going on?
But ... no. No. No. It couldn't be. Sturgis, McGonagall, Bill, and Moody had taken precautions so that they could be in control of their own minds. They wouldn't let Voldemort glean the information from them ... they'd die first.
But the knowledge of what they were willing to do filled Harry with even more terror. The lengths Voldemort and his Death Eaters were willing to go to to pry information from their prisoners was ... Merlin, it didn't bear thinking about. And Harry cared so much for all of them - oh Merlin.
Sirius burst into action. Retrieving the book that he and Sturgis used to contact one another, he addressed the Healers. "I need to let one of my contacts in Britain know what happened," he said in a rush. "These books are password protected. Can I ..."
All three Healers nodded without question. They understood that it wasn't that Sirius mistrusted them. It was more the fact that the less people who knew the password to get into this book, the better.
"I'd give you a lecture if you opened that book in front of us, Sirius." Healer Fields spoke with a very serious demeanor. In light of what she and Frampton had just been witness to, her manner had completely changed from the woman who had joked with Dixon not to take all of her cookies.
"Mr. Potter's security is highly important." Frampton nodded.
"I'll be right back," Sirius said to Harry, his heart in his eyes as he rushed towards the toilet, closing the door behind him.
"Harry?" Dixon spoke gently. "Are you all right?"
"We are very impressed by your success in pushing the pain and those foreign emotions out of your mind." Frampton stated candidly, the sincerity of his voice very clear.
"Yes," Healer Fields agreed. "It's obvious you have a very good Occlumency instructor."
"I do," Harry said simply, trying to control his shaking. What did Voldemort know? Was everyone okay back in Britain? The worry was giving him the jitters.
"Would you like a calming potion, Harry?" asked Healer Fields gently. "I can retrieve one for you."
It was so easy for Harry to return to the feelings of weakness and cowardice that always accompanied questions such as those. Without his consent, his mind flashed back to the memory of Aunt Petunia refusing to allow him any rest when he was ill with a nasty virus. This was the second time he'd been ill that particular year - the first time had been six months ago. He felt nauseous, his head hurt, and it was clear that he was running a high temperature, but Aunt Petunia sneered down at him. "Get to your chores, brat," she said viciously. "You've already caused enough damage - you've infected my poor Diddydumkins with your illness, and I need to tend to him. If the floor is not completely vacuumed in ten minutes, you'll have hell to pay!" She pushed him out of the cupboard door, and Harry was so wobbly on his feet that he almost fell.
Why should he accept what the Healers were providing for him? He should be strong enough to endure it on his own. He didn't need medication. After all, he'd gotten those chores done, hadn't he? He'd persevered, even though he'd felt truly horrible? And wasn't it his fault Dudley had become ill? He'd been the one to bring that virus home from school, hadn't he? He hadn't meant to, of course, but precious Dudley was now ill and Aunt Petunia couldn't do any of the things she wanted to do because Dudley's worthless freak of a cousin had given him that virus. Never mind the fact that Dudley had been the one to give a virus to Harry six months ago - that didn't mean anything to Aunt Petunia. Then, her diatribe had been about how Harry was such a selfish brat that he didn't know to stay away from her darling when he was ill.
But then, his mind returned to the present. He remembered the summer. He remembered Sirius's anger towards the Dursleys. He remembered every conversation, every affectionate gesture, every warm smile, every kind word. He remembered being told he never had to go back to the Dursleys, and now, even Dumbledore had agreed to never send him back there. Dumbledore, who had given him to them in the first place. Dumbledore, who had finally admitted how wrong that decision had been.
Therefore, he realized that it wasn't a terrible thing, to accept the help the Healers were offering. His nerves felt like they had been stretched past endurance, and the terror for all those he cared about in Britain was continuing its march through his mind.
And so, he smiled shakily at Healer Fields. "Yes, please," he said quietly.
He received a look of gentle approval from Healer Dixon as Healer Fields instantly walked to a cabinet and retrieved a vial. Moments later, she returned with it and handed it to Harry, who drank it gratefully.
The feelings of worry and anxiety, although not gone completely, receded to a dull throb as the potion worked its way through his system. "Thank you," he whispered.
"Of course." Healer Frampton nodded. Sitting down next to Harry, he asked, "Are you up for some more discussion? Healer Fields and I were going to talk to you about the spells that will be involved in removing that demon from your mind permanently."
"It is truly vile, what he has done to himself," Healer Fields added. "Making a Horcrux is one of the most sinister forms of magic ever known. The fact that he would ..." She shook her head, obviously revolted and appalled.
"We do think it prudent that your godfather be in the room for this discussion, if you still wish to go through with it," Healer Frampton said.
"I do." Harry nodded resolutely, although the exhaustion that was hitting him now was excruciating. It had taken a lot of effort to battle through the pain, the anger, and the hate that Voldemort had made him feel.
All three Healers in the room looked at the boy with a deep respect. "In that case, you can just relax while we wait for Sirius to return," Healer Fields said.
Though his fear was certainly blunted by the effects of the calming potion, Harry still had the ability to wonder, again, why Voldemort was so angry. Surely, it must be for some other reason than ...
Harry and the three Healers were silent for the next several minutes as he did his best to relax. He breathed deeply, picturing the Hallway of Humanity again. Occlumency exercises, though not currently needed, were still helping him. Harry found that his training was assisting him through other aspects of his life, and he was putting it to good use now.
Several minutes later, Sirius returned from the toilet. Although he looked worried, he didn't look as terrified as Harry would expect if Voldemort had indeed found out that he and Sirius were in America. Sure enough, he squeezed Harry's hand as he sat on his other side.
"Sturgis knows exactly what has Voldemort's knickers in a twist today," he said. "Thankfully, it's got nothing to do with our situation here. To Sturgis's knowledge, none of our number have been captured and forced to tell him anything."
It was like an immense bucket of relief was poured over Harry, warming him from the inside. Right now, everyone was safe. He and Sirius hadn't been found out. "Thank Merlin," he breathed.
"Indeed." Sirius smiled tremulously. "Sturgis is sure that what has the monster so enraged was an article in the Daily Prophet this morning."
"Can it be discussed later?" Dixon asked as he looked back and forth between the Healers, Harry, and Sirius.
Harry looked at Sirius questioningly, and his godfather nodded. "Yes, it can. Though it is of great importance, we can talk about it at a later time."
At Harry's nod, Sirius studied him critically. "Are you still okay to talk about ..." he started.
"Yes." Harry felt just as prepared for this as when the Healers had asked him, only a few minutes before. "This is what we came for - I need to know."
Sirius gazed at Harry with an intensely soft expression as he put an arm around him. He turned to the Healers, and they immediately straightened, ready to explain their strategy.
"There are several spells that have been invented over the years to remove a foreign influence from a person's mind," Healer Frampton divulged. "There are objects, consisting of very dark magic, that can have a deep effect on people. If they're dark enough, they can completely influence a person's personality."
"Don't I know it," Sirius muttered. Haltingly, he spoke of the family he had grown up in.
Fields nodded sadly. "That shows great strength and courage, that you were able to break away from their influence," she said, meaning every word.
Frampton nodded. "If an object's influence gets embedded in your mind strongly enough, a spell is needed to counteract the control it has over you," he said softly.
Harry thought back to the terrible diary, the Horcrux that had forced Ginny Weasley to do unspeakable things. In that case, he had destroyed it with a basilisk fang, and once the diary was destroyed, it no longer held sway over Ginny. There must be objects that had similar effects, he thought, feeling sick to his stomach at the realization. Why did some human beings feel the need to use their abilities to hurt others? Magic was a gift - it should not be employed as a weapon.
"Alexandra and I have been studying Horcruxes," Healer Frampton continued. "It is not an area of magic we particularly wanted to look into." His facial expression showed that this was indeed true.
"Exactly," Fields agreed. "However, we know how important such an area of study is. Before we started on this particular project, we were studying what happens if a human comes into contact with a Horcrux for too long."
Harry shuddered, because a horrible thought had just entered his mind. He, technically, was a Horcrux. There weren't any negative effects felt by the people who interacted with him, were there?
"No, Harry." Sirius, as always, was very perceptive, and knew instantly where Harry's mind had gone. "Your situation is very different. You were made into a Horcrux accidentally - it was not something Voldemort meant to do, the way I understand it."
Dixon nodded. "The sacrifice your mother made for you was also very powerful," he said, and Harry felt a wave of sadness wash over him as he thought about the beautiful woman with red hair and the emerald eyes that he himself possessed. "That magic saved your life that night. Even I do not completely understand the full effects of what that sacrifice accomplished."
Harry looked back and forth between them. "Do you think Mum's sacrifice is what stopped me from being like ... like him?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
"I do think that her magic has interacted with Voldemort's, and stopped it from negatively impacting your personality." Dixon spoke bluntly.
Harry felt so cold just then. A shiver racked up his spine as he flashed back to that fake memory of himself and Cedric in the Forbidden Forest, with Harry forcing the older champion to his knees and ending his life with a flick of his wand. Cedric's glassy, lifeless eyes stared accusingly at him ...
He felt Sirius's arm tighten around him, shielding him, reminding him that he was not that person. "No Horcrux can take away who you are, Harry." He spoke the words forcefully, with sheer conviction. "I want you never to forget that."
There was a moment of profound silence as Harry digested the words. His parents entered his mind again, and at that moment, a feeling of fierce love surged up inside him. He remembered the times when he used to be so angry with them as he lay in the darkness of his cupboard, convinced that they were lazy drunks who had died in a car accident because they didn't want him. Now, he knew the truth, and his feelings about them had pivoted 180 degrees. He knew he would never stop feeling guilty for his old emotions towards them - but that night, as Harry faced Voldemort in the graveyard and they had looked at him, their gazes held no condemnation or judgment, only acceptance and love, and Harry knew they understood. All they had ever done was love him enough to do anything to keep him alive, and he knew what a beautiful gift that truly was.
Finally, Harry patted Sirius's shoulder in thanks, and looked back up at the Healers. "So because of your research, you think these spells will remove the Horcrux from me?" he asked quietly.
"Yes." Frampton nodded. "As we have said, there are still a few steps we need to take to ensure that it can be done."
"It's not going to be easy, though." As Fields said the words, her eyes darkened, and Harry felt his skin prickle.
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, instantly on heightened alert.
"We will put you into a magically induced sleep during the procedure," Frampton explained, looking meaningfully at Harry. "We do not want you to be awake to experience the effects of the spells."
"And we also know that the part of Voldemort's soul that is contained within your scar will almost certainly give us a fight," Fields added softly.
A dagger of fear plunged itself into Harry's consciousness. "Oh Merlin," he breathed, having not thought about that. "What if ... what if he ..."
"Harry." Both Healers were now looking at Harry with an intensity that stopped his speech short. "Nothing is more important than ridding you of this Horcrux," Fields said staunchly, her eyes relaying the finality of her statement. "This is the most important research we have ever done, and we wish to see it through."
"But ... why?" Harry choked, visions of everything that could go wrong filtering through his mind. "Why do you ..."
Fields nodded in understanding. "It is true that we are not in Britain. Dixon is the only person we know from that country, other than you two," she said quietly.
"But that does not mean we don't care about what goes on in your country. We have been following your story, Harry, and what you have been through in your short life ... it has been so cruel and unfair, especially what you have endured within the last year. Your Daily Prophet leaves ... much to be desired," Frampton said sardonically.
"We are Healers, and our mission in this world is to improve lives, and do what we must to achieve that goal," Fields informed Harry, her eyes deadly calm.
"Even if it means ... he kills you?" Harry closed his eyes, unable to look at these people he barely knew, who hadn't known him at all when they agreed to do whatever they could for him, even if it meant giving up their lives. "He ... he's so powerful. You have no idea what he's capable of."
The expressions on both Healers' faces were very grave. "We do know what he's capable of." Frampton spoke calmly. "And we have agreed to combat it. You cannot talk us out of this, Harry."
"You deserve to live a life free of him." Fields gently laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, causing him to open his eyes and look up at her. She held his gaze, the complete honesty in her face letting him know that she wasn't about to give up on her goal.
"We will be ready for him, whenever he starts to fight us." Frampton truly did sound as though he was ready for anything.
Dixon spoke up then. "As you know, we suspect that Voldemort is not aware of when a Horcrux is destroyed," he stated. "Logic dictates that he does not, as he has not, to our knowledge, heightened security on his other ones."
Harry realized that Dixon must trust these Healers implicitly in order to have told them about the others. But it made sense - in order to believe the story of why Voldemort's soul had been so unstable that it latched onto him when he was severed from his body, it stood to reason that they found out about the others. Though Voldemort was not currently interested in America, Harry knew that they were also at enormous risk by knowing about them. But in order to treat Harry, they needed to know all the facts.
"However, we do not know whether Voldemort will figure us out, once Healers Frampton and Fields destroy the one inside you." He spoke with confidence, secure in the knowledge that they would be able to do it successfully. "Therefore, they must wait until the other Horcruxes are gone before this is attempted."
"Our understanding is that once all his current Horcruxes are destroyed, he will be unable to make more," Fields said quietly. "For one thing, his soul is already very unstable. For another, seven is a very powerful magical number. All research points to him being unsuccessful if he attempts to make another one."
Harry hadn't expected to hear that, but he was exceedingly relieved by it. "So once they're gone, there's no fear of him replacing them?" he asked for clarification.
"No. That would be beyond capacity for any witch or wizard, even one as powerful as Voldemort," Frampton said.
Harry nodded. Though he wished for nothing more than for the Horcrux lodged inside him to be removed as soon as possible, he understood. Things would be very, very bad indeed if the monster had any inkling of what they were doing. Harry recalled with crystal clarity the fear from only minutes earlier, when he was terrified that the evil demon had indeed found out that Harry was in America, and exactly why he was there.
And Harry knew that if he had to have this thing inside of him for a little while yet, he could use it. He had, after all, been able to save lives due to the connection he and Voldemort shared.
"Harry." Sirius looked at him with the utmost love and sadness shining in his gray eyes. Once again, he seemed to know what the boy was thinking - was he truly that readable?
"You are not a weapon to be used against him." His voice was firm and strong. "No matter what you have spent the last few years believing, it is not true."
"I know," Harry whispered, unable to hide the vulnerability in his voice. "But until it's gone - if I can save lives, I will."
Harry felt exceedingly uncomfortable at the thoughts that were going through his head then - he had tried not to dwell on it, because he knew that Sirius would react the way he had just done. Once the Horcrux was gone, he wouldn't be able to know what Voldemort was doing anymore. He would no longer be able to stop any attacks.
"Harry." Dixon seemed to understand as well. "Yes, it is true that right now, you have been able to save lives using the connection you share. But there are ... situations that are not beyond the realm of possibility. It is very likely that Voldemort could find a way to manipulate the connection."
Harry's heart flipped in his chest at that statement. "What do you mean?" he whispered.
"I mean that he could show you something that isn't actually true. You could act upon it, thinking you were saving lives," Dixon said bluntly.
Harry's eyes widened in horror. "It would be a trap," he breathed, and he realized that this could very well be the case. What those Healers had tried to do to Dumbledore ... it was clear that creating a false memory was something that could be done with magic. And as much as Harry despised Voldemort, he knew how intelligent he was. He, after all, had created a diary that manipulated Ginny into trusting it, so much so that it began possessing her and controlling her actions.
He shuddered, and looked at Dixon with an understanding that someone his age shouldn't possess. He nodded simply, and said no more on the subject.
It was Healer Frampton who laid a hand on Harry's shoulder this time. He gazed at him with an infinitely reassuring expression upon his face.
"I do not make promises lightly," he said quietly. "But I will make one to you, now. Whatever it takes, Alexandra and I will rid you of the Horcrux that is housed inside of you. No matter what happens, you will be free."
"And you will survive." Healer Fields's eyes were blazing now. "We'll make sure of it."
Harry's emotions were so mixed up; they struggled inside of him - fear, anxiety, worry, terror, and sadness.
But at that moment, looking into the eyes of two Healers who weren't about to break their promises, Harry felt something else being added to all of them.
Hope.