This is in memory of Maggie Smith. She probably would have hated us writing fanfics about Harry Potter, but I don't really care. She was a great woman, and will always be Professor McGonagall.
Please don't kill me for this chapter, K? I promise you, things won't always be as bad as they look in this chapter. I'm actually really nervous for this now... I'm really sorry for this.
If I get enough comments I might post the next one quicker... We'll see though.
The bright rays of sunshine poured in through the entrance to the tent the following day. Harry sat up and quickly checked to make sure Draco was still in his bed. He found him fast asleep, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
His dreams had not been filled with horrors, as he had thought they might be. Instead, they were filled with memories, which he watched as if from an outsiders perspective.
First both he and Draco were flying around the yard of Slytherin Manor, not a care in the world. A young Harry dove towards the ground as a young Draco yelled for him to stop being an idiot.
He pulled up just before he would have made contact and barely had time to recover before Draco came zooming towards him, hands raised, a huge smile spreading reluctantly over his face as he looked at his beaming best friend.
The memories had then changed, and now both boys were huddled under the covers in Harry's old bedroom. Harry had a small light glowing from the end of his fingertip. He lit up a book as Draco read aloud.
The door suddenly opened, and Harry turned off the light as Bellatrix peaked a head inside and smiled, shaking her head before closing the door and leaving the boys to their sleepover.
Suddenly, they were in Malfoy Manor, both older and more muscular than they had been. Harry watched as Draco sent spell after spell, flying at targets, hitting each one directly in the center.
Harry's smile couldn't have gotten any wider.
And the memories changed again; this time, Harry's chest was bleeding profusely. He was wearing his Death Eater robes, and had obviously just returned from a dangerous mission.
He was hardly conscious, and Draco cleaned up the mess of blood with a worried expression on his face.
Soon, though, it was clean, and Draco's face broke into an expression of relief as Harry opened his eyes and laughed as Draco lightly cuffed him and yelled at him for worrying him.
After that the memories had sped up, faster and faster until they were an endless blur of nothing and everything all at once.
Harry put on his glasses and stretched, running a hand through his messy raven hair. He got out of bed and walked over to the entrance.
It was a bright, cool morning, the sun already well-established in the sky. It had to be at least 10 or 11!
"Draco, wake up," Harry said, entering the tent again. "We have to get going."
"I'm up," Draco said sleepily. "Are you ready to go see Dumbledore today?"
"Sure, I can't wait," Harry replied sarcastically, opening up the backpack and picking out two pieces of fruit and the last of their bread.
"Heads up," He said, and he tossed an orange to Draco. Draco caught it and started to peel off the outside.
"Come on now, don't have that sort of attitude." Draco scolded.
"I know," Harry sighed, walking over and handing him half of the bread. "It's just I really don't want to go back to the Order."
"We aren't going back to the Order." Draco said, "We are going to Dumbledore because he has something we need; that's it."
Harry nodded and bit into his apple. "Yes, I guess you're right." He conceded.
"Of course I am," Draco said, grinning.
"If we are going to see Dumbledore, we are going to need a way to get into the castle." Harry pointed out. Draco thought about it for a moment.
"We will have to get in through that village, Hogsmeade, I think it is. That would be our best chance."
"Yes, that's a good idea," Harry agreed, "If we can't get in there, then we will have to go back to the Burrow and use the Floo network, though I would rather not use it because the Ministry will surely be watching it."
"I would like it better if we found a way through Hogsmeade." Draco agreed.
"We have to get a move on." Harry said as Draco got to his feet, "Voldemort will be starting to check on the Horcruxes, and once he realizes they are gone, he will go after us. I'm sure he will want to check the school, too, which means there will most likely be a fight very soon. The quicker we find the last Horcrux, the better."
"Okay, let's go," Draco said, shoving the last of his orange into his mouth and grabbing the backpack from the table.
Harry quickly scanned the room to make sure they weren't forgetting anything. His eyes fell on both of their wands lying next to their beds. They were about to walk into Hogwarts without their only weapons.
Harry picked up both wands and tucked his own into his holster, where he knew he could get it quickly.
"Here," Harry said. He gave Draco his wand and took the backpack from him, stringing it over his shoulders. They left the tent, and Harry deconstructed it, happy to see his magic was back to a near normal level. He still felt rather tired, but that was to be expected.
Draco had not mentioned any of last night's events, and Harry was grateful for this. He didn't want to think about them too much.
"Okay, are you ready for this?" Harry asked Draco when the last enchantment had been lifted, and the tent had been safely stored.
"Always," Draco said without the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice.
Harry smiled as Draco grabbed hold of his wrist, and they both turned on the spot and vanished. They appeared moments later in the crowded streets of Hogsmeade. At least, they hoped it was Hogsmeade. Neither of them had ever been there to know for sure.
"Any idea how we get to the castle from here?" Draco asked, looking around the crowded street.
"Nope," Harry said, "We should ask someone." He pulled Draco over to a pub labeled The Leaky Cauldron.
"In here," Harry said, and the boys entered the packed pub. Harry was surprised to find that most of the tables were occupied by Hogwarts students.
"What's going on?" He wondered aloud.
"It must be a visit to the village day; Hermione was telling me about them. All of the students' parents sign a permission slip, and they are able to come to the village."
"Oh, good." Harry said, "That might actually be useful."
He glanced around and spotted a group of seventh years in the corner booth. They were all wearing the same scarlet robes, so Harry assumed they belonged to Gryffindor house. He approached them and cleared his throat.
When they looked up, he asked, "Could you tell me how to get to the castle from here?"
"Uh, why?" A girl asked. Harry got the impression that she did most of the talking in this group.
"I need to get there, obviously. Could you point me in the right direction?"
"Shouldn't you know how to get there, though?" She questioned.
"I would if I had been a student of Hogwarts, which I was not. Can you tell me which way to go?"
"No." She said firmly, "You are probably Death Eaters trying to sneak into the castle."
"You know what, you're right!" Harry said, starting to become impatient. "I am a Death Eater trying to sneak into the castle by using the front gates, and I am currently getting directions from some students on how to find said gates. Boy, Dumbledore should be glad he has someone like you to protect the school from people like me."
Much to Harry's pleasure, the girl blushed a violent shade of red and then said, "Go out and make a left. Just follow the path from there, and you'll find it."
"Thanks." Harry said shortly, and he returned to Draco."These Hogwarts kids are idiots."
"I know. Did you get directions?"
"Yes, this way." Harry exited the pub with Draco following close behind.
They stuck to the buildings, trying to blend in with the Hogwarts students as much as possible. They kept their heads down, but their eyes were always scanning the crowd, ensuring they didn't meet anyone they didn't want to meet.
Suddenly, something grabbed Harry and Draco's arms and pulled them both down a forgotten ally. Harry didn't pause to think. He turned around and punched whoever had grabbed him in the face.
"Ow," A familiar voice said, "Oi, come on, stop it!" The sound of that voice only made Harry want to fight harder.
"Let me go!" Harry growled, throwing off his captor and bringing back his fist again.
"Harry, wait." Draco said. Harry paused and looked at him. "It's just them."
Harry looked and saw Ginny, Ron, and Hermione.
"Hi, Harry," Hermione said brightly.
"What the heck were you thinking!" Harry said to them angrily as Ron, who had been the one to grab him, touched his nose. Harry could see that it was starting to go red, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"I could have killed you! One more second and I would have! You absolute idiots!"
"Harry, relax." Ginny said, "I know you are mad at us, though I'm not sure why, but we knew you would have to come to see Dumbledore at some point. We want to help you guys!"
A multitude of comebacks rose to Harry's mind, and he was just about to voice them when Draco said, "Great, we have to get into the castle."
"We can take you to the gate, but I don't know if there is a way in." Ron said, still touching his nose gingerly, "We can see, though."
"Great," Draco said calmly. "Let's go." He let the other three take the lead, hanging back with Harry for a moment.
"I know you don't like it, and I don't either, but they are the best chance we have of finding Dumbledore before Voldemort finds out about them." Draco muttered in an undertone.
Harry nodded but didn't say anything. Draco was right, and as much as he hated it, they would need help. They followed Ron, Hermione, and Ginny down the road in the direction they had been heading.
"Potter!"
Harry whipped around, his hand flying towards his wand. He saw, on the other side of the street, Yaxley and Mulciber. Death Eaters.
Harry barely had time to push Draco down as a spell came flying towards them. He shot a spell back, narrowly missing Yaxley.
"That the best you got, Potter?" He taunted as he shot another spell at Harry.
Draco, too, had pulled out his wand and shot a spell at Yaxley at the exact same moment Harry did. Both spells hit the man, knocking him out completely and sending him tumbling to the ground.
Draco turned to Harry with a smile on his face. However, before the boys could celebrate, Draco's face changed to one of concern.
Just as Harry turned to see what was wrong, Draco pushed him out of the way. A burst of light hit Draco directly in the chest.
He fell to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut, his expression frozen in time.
"No!" Harry roared. He wheeled around and hit Mulciber with a stunning spell.
It was so powerful, fueled by Harry's furry, that it blasted him ten feet into the air. Harry didn't bother to watch where he landed.
He looked around at the street, where everyone was staring at him, looking terrified. Even Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were wide-eyed. Harry couldn't care less about them, though.
He quickly bent down and felt for a pulse. He found the pulse was weak at best, but he didn't let himself worry yet.
It had to be a fluke. His own heart was pounding so quickly in his chest that he must have just missed how strong Draco's was.
Harry looked up quickly at the others, all of whom were just standing there. "He needs help. Do you have a healer?"
"Madam Pomfrey," Ginny said.
"Let's go." Harry used his wand to levitate Draco and hurried after the others, leaving a shocked street in his wake.
The walk to the front gate was relatively short, but to Harry, it felt like hours. Draco would be fine after he saw the healer.
Hehadto be fine.
"The gate is enchanted. I don't think you will be able to get in." Ron pointed to the tall metallic fence, which Harry was sure surrounded the whole castle.
"I can undo this." Harry said confidently.
"Harry," Hermione said, "Dumbledore himself built this fence. Do you really think you can break it without any help?"
"Yes, I do," Harry replied simply. He started to examine the gate closely, knowing he should take his time but also knowing that there was no time to waste.
"There," He said finally, pointing to a seemingly random spot a few feet above him. "That's where I'll aim. You should stand back; this might end up being a disaster."
Everyone pushed back and stood watching Harry. He turned and faced the spot he had marked. Which spell would he use? Crucio would make it a glitch, but would that be enough? He doubted it.
He thought back to his lessons with Bella, and the answer came to him. He took aim at the fence and said calmly, "Expelliarmus."
A burst of brilliant bright light shot out of the wand and connected with the gate. The force almost knocked him off his feet, but he regained his footing and held the wand steady.
It was almost as if the gate was reflecting the force of his spell, but Harry held his ground. His wand started to heat up, warmer and warmer, almost burning, but he held it steady. His hands were starting to blister from the heat, and he knew he would have to do something soon.
He had to get through this gate. There was no other option.
And then, even though it was risky and probably stupid, he did the first thing that came to mind. He gathered up as much power as he could muster and, in one last attempt, pushed it out of him towards the gate.
The gate burst into a million tiny pieces, and with it, all of the enchantments surrounding the castle. Harry dropped his scorching wand to the ground.
Everyone was staring at him once again, completely stunned by what he had just done.
"How did you—" Ginny started to say.
"There is no time." Harry interrupted, "Take me the school healer, now!"
"This way," Ron said.
Harry stooped to pick up his wand. It was still burning hot, but he did not care in the slightest at the moment.
Harry followed Ron as they all ran towards the castle, Draco still floating with them, surely just unconscious.
Madam Pomfrey would be able to help.
Shehadto be able to help.
They reached the castle, and Harry flicked his hands and opened the heavy wood front doors without a second glance. They raced through halls, down flights of stairs, and past many pictures, all of which looked the same to Harry, until they finally came to a door.
"In here," Ginny said, and she threw it open for Harry. Harry didn't say anything but put Draco down on the closest bed.
"Hello?" Ginny called. An older lady with graying hair came bustling out of a room.
"What is the issue?" she asked urgently.
"He was hit with a spell. His pulse was weak, he needs help." Harry said, backing away from Draco so she would be able to take a look.
She approached his bed and reached out her hand, quickly feeling for a pulse. Then she looked into Draco's eyes, into his face, which was still frozen. She turned back to Harry, a very grave expression on her face.
"I'm sorry, but…" Madam Pomfrey started, but Harry interrupted.
"No, you can help him. You can heal him, right?"
"I'm sorry," She said sadly, "I can't do anything to help him."
"But you have to, please." Harry begged, refusing to let the tears forming in his eyes escape.
"I can't help him."
"No!" Harry said, denying what had to be a lie. How could it be true? "Please, you have to do something. Please just help him. I'll do anything. I have money; I'll payanything."
"I'm sorry," Madam Pomfrey said, "But no amount of money will make me any more able to do anything. He is dead."
With those three words, the world came crashing down around Harry.
"No," He whispered. "No."
He looked at his best friend, and he couldn't take it. He turned and ran away from the room where Draco lay, away from all of those people he hated.
"Harry!" he heard someone call him, but he ran faster, not knowing or caring where he was going as long as it was somewhere far away from there.
He couldn't breathe, could barely think. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be, not now. Harry's heart felt like it had been ripped apart.
Surely, he must die now, too. No one could feel this much pain and live.
This was worse than any of the times his scar had burned and taken him into Voldemort's head. It was so much worse.
He must die now. He had to; he could never live with this kind of pain.
Harry was still running. It was as though he could outrun all of the pain if he could only run a bit faster. Eventually, though, it overcame him, and he stopped halfway up a flight of stairs.
He sank to the floor, out of breath, his heart aching with a sickening pain unlike anything he had experienced before. He didn't want to accept it; every part of his body wanted to reject this news, this awful, painful, horrible news.
Because Draco, his best friend, could not be dead.
Harry felt like his world had been torn apart, the very essence of his being destroyed. Nevertheless, he didn't cry, and he didn't scream; he just sat there in complete silence.
Sometimes, the loudest cries are the ones that no one hears.
Harry sat there bent over his legs with his hands laced around the back of his neck. It was as though he could keep in the pain if he stayed curled over himself.
The bright sun beat cruelly on the back of his neck as he shook violently from the weight of hisunshedtears.
He was feeling too much, yet feeling nothing at had to let something out, but he couldn't. Feelings were a sign of weakness, and he could not afford to be weak, not right now.
So he sat there, the sun beating down on him from through a window, shaking, unable to do anything but sit there and try to keep in the pain.
The pain was overwhelming, far worse then any spell Voldemort had ever cast on him.
After some time, Harry heard footsteps approaching him. He didn't move, though. He wasn't even sure if he could. He felt a hand on his shaking shoulder and lifted his head. Dumbledore was standing there, majestic as ever, in grand maroon robes.
He was too pleasant, too calm.
"Come with me." He said in a calm voice, which demanded respect.
Harry didn't argue. He didn't have the strength to.
Instead, he just followed Dumbledore blindly, past the endless maze of portraits, down never-ending hallways, until they finally stopped. They had reached Dumbledore's office. He gave the statues the password, and he and Harry ascended the spiral staircase.
"Sit down. I will be back in a few minutes." Dumbledore said, but it wasn't an order; it was a request. Harry sat and watched Dumbledore go from what felt like the far end of a tunnel.
He couldn't just sit here, though.
As soon as the door closed, Harry got up and walked over to the window. The sun was still shining sickeningly bright in the sky. He paced around the office, trying not to think. But, he had to think, there would be no escape.
It was his fault Draco had died, all his fault. If he had not allowed Draco to come with him in the first place, or if he had taken down Mulciber quicker, none of this would have happened.
Draco sacrificed himself for Harry. How could he have let that happen? Harry was the one who was supposed to be protecting Draco. He had promised he would.
He had failed. It was unbearable to think about.
The pain of it was suffocating, all-consuming, ever-present. There was a terrible hollow, empty part of him, where Draco had always been, where Draco had now gone from. He did not want to be alone with that part; he didn't want to feel it.
He couldn't stand it.
He quickly walked over to the door. He tried the knob and found it was locked. He looked around the room, trying to find something, anything, which would distract him, but nothing presented itself.
Guilt was filling Harry's chest like some heavily weighted parasite. Harry couldn't do this anymore; he couldn't stand being Harry anymore. He had never felt more trapped, never wished more intensely he could be somebody, anybody, else.
The door opened a moment later, and Dumbledore reentered the room. He didn't say anything as he sat down at his desk and looked at Harry with his piercing blue eyes.
"I know how you are feeling, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly after a moment.
"No, you don't," said Harry, and his voice was quiet but laced with murder. White-hot anger erupted inside of him, but he kept it inside of him. What did Dumbledore know about his feelings?
Harry turned his back on him and stared determinedly out of the window again. He scanned the wide grounds, searching for some sort of distraction, but none presented itself.
"There is no shame in what you are feeling," Dumbledore's voice said calmly. "On the contrary, the fact you can feel pain as great as this is one of your greatest strengths."
Harry felt the anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words.
"My greatest strength, is it?" Harry said sharply, struggling to keep his voice from shaking as he stared out at the grounds, no longer seeing them. "You haven't got a clue…. You don't know…."
"What don't I know?" asked Dumbledore, much too calmly once again.
It was too much for him to take. Harry whipped around, shaking with rage and pain.
"I don't want to talk about how I feel, all right?" He growled. His eyes were dangerous. His hands were shaking, and he clenched them hard into fists.
"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human, part of being alive…"
"Then I would be perfectly happy to die." Harry spat. He needed to do something with his anger. He couldn't hold all of it inside. A delicate silver instrument on the table next to him exploded.
"You see, Dumbledore! You see! I don't care anymore!" Harry's outrage was evident in his magic alone. "I've had enough,seenenough! I want out now; I want it to end! I don't care anymore!"
Around him, several more objects exploded, sending shards of glass cascading around the room. Harry's knuckles were white from the effort of restraining himself. He couldn't let this go further, though he supposed he now had nothing to lose.
"You do care," Dumbledore said, taking advantage of his momentary silence.
He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry from demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. It fueled Harry's anger more than anything else.
"You care so much that you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."
"I don't!" Harry growled at once. Something else shattered to his left. For a second, he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him too; break the calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside Harry.
"Oh yes, you do," said Dumbledore, still more calmly. "You have now lost your mother, your father, and someone who you viewed as a brother. Of course you care."
"You have," Harry whispered, "absolutely no clue how I feel right now. Not even an idea of the absolute PAIN that I feel! The world took everything from me, except for my life! It left me that and that alone to torture me further, to drive me mad from the pain of continuing to live in a world where everything I have ever loved is GONE! And it is never coming back, Dumbledore! So tell me, how could you possibly understand how I am feeling!?"
Words were no longer enough for Harry. Making things explode was no longer a good enough outlet. None of these things did anything to stop the pain that was consuming him.
He wanted a way out, a way out of everything. He wanted to run and keep running. He wanted to go somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes piercing into him.
He needed to escape again.
