! This chapter is written from Harry's perspective. At some point in this story, his friends and family will witness the scene at the graveyard from his POV, so that is written a little differently than usual. After this chapter, there will mostly be Draco chapters again :) !
- Grimmauld Place, 22nd of July 1995 -
"Look what the kneazle dragged in," Harry joked as his two best friends entered the main sitting area at Grimmauld Place, both of them noticing him at the other end of the room at the same time. "Trying to look especially regal by using a cane like a proper Lord, are you?" the raven-haired boy snickered.
Draco made a face at him and slowly walked closer. Hermione offered her support by holding the blond by the elbow. A stark reminder of how weak Draco still was after his core had been nearly drained. After he'd almost died…
"Watch it, Potter," the young wizard said as he finally was close enough to Harry and whacked him in the back of his knees with his cane, making the Boy Who Lived stumble. "Wouldn't want to offend a fellow Lord, would you?"
Both boys grinned at each other and hugged, clapping each other on the back in greeting.
"You two, honestly," Hermione huffed at their teasing. She let go of Draco's arm as Ginny, Luna, and Daphne waved her over from a corner of the room.
Harry noticed how her fingers lingered on Draco's elbow for just a second longer than usual. The youngest of the silver trio might be oblivious, but he wasn't that dumb.
"So, you and Mione? Getting pretty cosy there, holding on to each other, aren't you? Are you sure you still need a cane to walk, or are you just doing it to get her help?" He wriggled his eyebrows, making his brother in all but blood roll his eyes.
"Let's see how long it would take you to recover after your magic was drained and half of your chest missing. And what about you and Ginny? That sure was some sight to see at the Triwizard Tournament," Draco quipped back, smirking at him.
Harry shrugged nonchalantly, putting his hands in his pockets, when the Weasley twins suddenly popped up behind him.
"Harrykins," George began, as both of them flung an arm over his shoulder.
"Young Lord Malfoy here was not the only one who saw that little display between you and our sister," Fred finished, grinning wickedly.
"But since you helped us out with that wanker Bagman and made sure he gave us our money back-" George winked.
"-We promise to not give you too hard of a time," Fred smiled.
"But if you dare to hurt her, be prepared to have five angry older brothers ready to protect her honour!" they both warned him before heading off to talk to Sirius.
"Five brothers?" Draco inquired urgently. "I thought no one on our side got hurt at the third task?"
Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Percy… He doesn't believe Voldemort is back. He's backing Fudge and thinks me, Dumbledore, and Amelia are insane. Ginny told me how her family had a huge fight at dinner a week or so ago. Mrs. Weasley was inconsolable when Percy took his things and left…"
Draco put his hand on his shoulder, grasping him tightly in support. "There will be many people who won't believe you. The war filled a lot of families' hearts with darkness. Even my own, as you have seen with my father. But no one on the light side wants to go back to those times, Harry. Admitting that the Dark Lord is back, would mean they are headed in the same direction as before. Just, don't let it get to you, alright? Anyone who matters believes you. We all believe in you"
"Thanks, mate," he said, touched by his best friend's words. "Ready for the show?"
"Of course. Do you think I dressed up nicely and ventured out of the Manor for nothing?" he smirked. "If you and Ced are planning on showing us the memory of the night at the graveyard, you better have prepared some popcorn. I can't wait to see snake face's reaction when you manage to escape. Or Dumbledore's when you pull out that pensieve we found last year."
The blond wizard limped away again. It had been nearly a month, but Draco was still extremely tired. Magic might have reconstructed his chest, but only time and patience would be able to heal the damage done to his magical core, no matter how much of their magic Harry and Hermione had poured into him over the past weeks. Andromeda had told them to just give up and wait it out since the magic didn't seem to stick either way. Almost as if he'd become immune to them once he'd had enough magic to wake up in the Hospital Wing.
As soon as everyone was seated around them, and both Kreacher and Dobby had offered them something to drink and nibble on, all eyes were on Harry and Cedric.
Cedric began to tell the tale of the third task and Harry's eyes lingered on all of his friends. Draco and Hermione were sharing a couch with Sirius and Amelia. Draco was leaning his head lazily on his hand, almost as if he was bored. But Harry knew him well enough. His other hand had grasped his cane so tightly, that the raven-haired boy was sure the wood beneath would snap. Mione must have noticed too, because she reached out her hand to Draco's, and wriggled the top of the regal-looking crutch from his hand, instead intertwining her fingers with his after she moved the cane to the side of the couch. Draco smiled gratefully at her, but Harry knew that serious expression. Lord Malfoy was not happy. If anything, he was overanalysing every word they were saying. Starting to scheme already. Even if Harry was Lord Slytherin, Draco was still the prince of Slytherin. His best friend's cunning, scheming, and determination knew no bounds.
Susan, Hannah, Theo, and Neville were enraptured by Cedric's description of what they had met in the maze. When he got to the part where an imperiused Krum attacked them, Daphne visibly winced next to her boyfriend.
The only one who didn't seem to be surprised, and was flicking her feet back and forth as if she was lost in her own little world, was Luna.
When her eyes met Harry's, she winked at him. "It will be alright," she mouthed, encouraging him silently. So she had noticed his inner turmoil then? He shouldn't have been surprised. Luna could see everything, could she not?
"So when we finally reached the cup, Harry stopped me from grabbing it. He said we should cast some detection charms on it first, and well… Would you like to take over from here, mate?" Cedric asked, grabbing the Boy Who Lived's attention.
Harry cleared his throat, all eyes looking at him expectantly. He was unsure where to begin, or how to even tell his story…
Ginny's hand found his and she squeezed it lightly.
"I don't know if I can tell it right," he finally admitted. "So Draco, Mione and I figured it might be better if I show you guys what happened instead. Wrinkle!"
A house elf, dressed in a magenta dress adorned with the Potter Crest apparated in the room, bowing to Harry. "Yes, master?" she inquired.
"We've been over this, Wrinkle," he softly admonished her. "It's Harry. Just Harry. None of that master nonsense. Could you bring me my great-grandfather's pensieve, please? The one that he keeps in the private Potter study?"
"Certainly, my lord."
Before Harry could correct her, the head house elf had popped off again, leaving everyone but his two best friends staring at the Boy Who Lived.
"If you needed a pensieve, I would have gladly offered you mine, Harry," Dumbledore offered, his eyes twinkling. Harry was still displeased that the old geezer was here, but he figured that since he was the most powerful wizard on the light side, it would be for the best if the headmaster had all the information about what happened that night at the graveyard. Even if Dumbledore himself never willingly shared any of his secrets with them.
"Thank you for your generous offer, headmaster," Harry politely said, earning an approving nod from Sirius. He'd long since learned that it was best to be polite to anyone. " Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer ", his godfather had always said. "But my great-grandfather, Henry Potter, used to sit on the Wizengamot at the beginning of the 1900s. He invested in a particular kind of pensieve, you see. He wanted to show the members of the Wizengamot the atrocities that the First World War brought with it. What better way for them to see, than to show all of the other members present what was going on in the muggle world?" Harry took a deep breath, surprised he still had everyone's attention. "What better way than to make sure the wizards and witches of this country would help the muggles than to make them relive the memories?"
Mr. Weasley spluttered in his drink. "I'm sorry, Harry. Did you just say, relive the memories? Through a pensieve? Not just observe them?"
Harry nodded, but before he could elaborate further, Wrinkle had apparated back into the room, carrying with her a dark black cube the size of a tennis ball. She conjured a small coffee table from another room in the house and put the curious device on it.
"Master's blood will unlock it," she said.
"Wrinkle, for the hundredth time-"
The elf smirked at him as she snapped her fingers, apparating away. Dear Merlin she was going to be the death of him. Was this what his mum and dad had to deal with? An elf who would refuse to just call them by their names? Or had they just not minded as much as he did? He would never know… Not like he could ever ask them after all.
"Anyone who doesn't want to see what I've seen should leave the room now," Harry cautiously warned them, taking in everyone's expressions. "If you prefer, I can donate my memory to Professor Dumbledore so it can be viewed and observed in his pensieve instead."
No one moved, until the door opened, a head of auburn curls poking through.
"Mummy, I can't sleep," Polarys yawned. "Daddy said he would read us a story, and I asked Kreacher, but…"
"It's alright, sweetheart," Susan said as she got up, motioning for Amelia to sit back down. She picked up the toddler in her arms and cuddled her closer to her. "I will come and read you a story. Babbitty Rabbitty? Or would you like-"
"The Tale of the Three Brothers!" Polarys shouted enthusiastically, making several of the others in the room chuckle or smile sweetly at her.
"Is that your favourite now?" Susan said as she looked across the room, seeing if anyone else would prefer to join her instead of living through Harry's memories of that fateful night.
"Of course!" the little girl in her arms said. "I have three brothers too! Castor, Harry, and the one in mummy's belly!"
Harry blinked.
Sirius blinked harder. "Amy…" he whispered, looking at his wife in awe. "Are you really-?"
"You, little missy," Amelia scolded her daughter lovingly as a blush spread along her cheeks, "will need to listen to a bedtime story that explains why you should not be telling other people's secrets. Especially not mummy's!"
Polarys merely giggled, bouncing in her cousin's arms, her tiny hands covering her mouth as she tried to stifle her giggles. After Susan, Molly, and Blaise had decided to go upstairs to tuck in Polarys, instead of reliving Harry's memories, a round of congratulations went around the room. Afterwards, everyone focused their attention on Harry again.
"Amy, are you sure that you should be reliving this in your condition?" Sirius asked in concern.
Director Black raised her eyebrow at her husband, a hint of her love for him showing. "I understand that you're concerned, love. But I'm pregnant. Not ill nor made of glass. I was there that night. I am sure I can stand it."
"Everyone ready?" Harry asked.
All heads in the room nodded at him, and he took out his wand, making a small incision on his hand. As he let his blood fall on the cube, it started to change its shape, more reminiscent of the bowl-like structure of a pensieve now. What was unexpected, was that the misty substance in which the memories usually resided, started seeping out of it, filling the whole room.
Harry closed his eyes and gasped when he could feel his limbs move, and words tumble out of his mouth. So it began. Again.
- The Maze, 24th of June 1995, Harry's memory -
This was it. The moment we'd all been waiting for. The only reason I decided to be part of this bloody tournament. All that was standing between me and the Cup, between me and whatever foul plan Voldemort had laid out for me, was Cedric.
"Don't touch it!" I yelled urgently as Cedric approached the Cup.
He turned and quirked an eyebrow at me, clearly confused as to why I was stopping him from becoming the winner of the Triwizard Tournament. "That intent on winning, Harry?" he chuckled. "You might have to duel me for it now that we're so close."
I shook my head at him. "That's not it, Ced. You can be the winner for all I care, I was never a true champion to begin with. I don't want you to touch it, because there's something wrong with it."
The Hufflepuff turned his head now, studying the Cup. If he hadn't been so giddy to take the Cup, he would have noticed it earlier. Just like Sirius and Amelia had taught us, there was magic hanging around the cup. And not just the artefact's own. I couldn't blame him for not noticing, however. We'd already faced so much, that there was no way there could be another trap. But there was.
"A portkey?" Ced asked me, puzzled, as I waved my wand to confirm my suspicions. The red glow around the Cup was enough of an answer.
"They did say the Cup would return us to the entrance," Cedric argued. But then, he frowned as he looked closely at the magic. "There's two red layers, Harry. Someone has tampered with the Cup!"
I nodded. Of course, someone had. "I can warn Amelia and Sirius by sending up a flare with my wand," I said. But when I tried to cast the spell, an unfamiliar magical dome seemed to have spread itself around us, making sure that the only way to leave was by taking the Cup. Well. So much for that plan. Seems Moldypants wanted me there no matter what. Merlin's balls this stank like thestral shite.
"You don't have to take it," I told Cedric. "If I touch it, that should be enough. The dome might disappear and you can warn the others."
Cedric snorted, crossing his arms. "Do you think I would let you face whoever is out there alone? If we come up with a plan, we can survive this. Besides, we have a bunch of portkeys on us. We would get right back."
After trying out the portkeys we had on us, none of them working either, we came to the conclusion that all that was left to do was to follow wherever the Cup would lead us. Cedric put a disillusionment charm on himself, and I put my cloak on, grateful for Hermione's nagging to take it with me. After all, if our enemies didn't see us when we arrived, it should give us a better chance to survive.
"Remember, if anything happens to me, get out immediately. Try and find the edge of the wards if there is an anti-portkey or anti-apparition spell going on. Sirius and Amelia will know where to find me," I reminded Cedric, who just nodded at me seriously.
"On three?" he asked.
"On three," I agreed.
Neither one of us expected the portkey's magic to be so violent. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that two portus spells were put on it, the magic strands fighting each other and shaking us as we finally landed in what seemed to be a graveyard.
I couldn't see Cedric, meaning his disillusionment charm was still working, but somehow my cloak had slipped off my head in all the turmoil, and I stared up into the beady eyes of the man who betrayed my parents. Peter Pettigrew.
Unable to control my anger, I lashed out and cast a spell at him. Instead of ripping a hole through his side, it clashed off a shield, even though he wasn't even holding his wand. The traitor even smirked at me. I would rip his fucking head off if I got the chance. All the people he'd hurt with his betrayal… Mum. Dad. Sirius. Me.
"Wormtail, enough," a voice hissed. "Get the boy."
I shouldn't have been distracted by what I assumed was Voldemort's snakelike voice because a second later Peter had stunned me and levitated me to a statue in the middle of the graveyard.
All I could do was pray that Cedric would not come in between and instead had managed to find the edge of the wards by now so that he could get Sirius and Aunt Amelia. If not, I would be royally fucked.
The rat cut a piece out of my arm, and tossed the flesh and my blood into a cauldron, together with other ingredients he seemingly needed for some sort of ritual. Bones of someone's father. Pettigrew's own hand. What the bloody fuck was wrong with Voldemort and his followers? The dark magic made me sick to my stomach.
Fear paralyzed me as I watched him return from the dead, or at least whatever state he was in now. He looked half man, half snake. Like a polyjuice potion gone wrong. His eyes were red with my blood. The Dark Lord was standing right in front of me, taunting me, torturing me. He didn't need to touch me for me to know that all of the protection charms and spells that were on me were worthless now. He used Potter and Evans blood to resurrect himself. My blood. I was no longer protected. Bloody brilliant.
Eventually, he seemed to be done playing with me, and when I stretched my fingers to get the stiffness out of them before he and I duelled, I noticed something. The ring Sirius gave me… There was still a bit of magic in there. The blood-bond Sirius and my dad had still seemed to be somewhat active, but it was strengthened by Draco's blood magic. My best friend being of both Malfoy and Black descent, ensured that at least some of the protections were still working.
Merlin. Please someone help me.
I prayed for someone to come as Voldemort cast the first unforgivable at me. I couldn't give up. Not now. My friends and family were waiting for me. Ginny was waiting for me. I couldn't give up or let him win. All I could do was hold on and trust that Cedric would be able to get help.
Snake face seemed to be distracted for a second, but I wasn't sure by what. He told Pettigrew to go and check it out, but the death eater didn't seem worried at all. That was something I would need to remember for the future. Death eaters always thought they were superior. That nothing or no one could hurt them. That could definitely be used against them when we inevitably would meet again.
"Master," the filthy rat began. "No one knows where we are. The boy came here on his own, there is no way anyone is attempting to tear down the wards…"
Showing all of his cruelty, the Dark Lord waved his wand and made the traitor's new magical hand tighten around his own neck. So this was how Moldypants kept them in line. By threatening his followers. I wondered if Pettigrew had also peed his pants the night he betrayed my parents. How had a coward like him ever been sorted in Gryffindor?
By the time Sirius, Amelia, Dumbledore, and a bunch of aurors reached us, we were enveloped in a protective shield. Somehow, our wands connected. Mum and Dad's ghostlike shades were floating around us along with several of Voldemort's other recent victims. I noticed Sirius gasp and cry out for them before joining the fight. My parents only had eyes for me, however.
Voldemort's victims haunted him and soon all of the apparitions flew straight at him, weakening him and giving me the time to escape the shield that had formed around us. I hadn't noticed before, but a bunch of death eaters had also shown up.
I took cover behind a gravestone and tried to help as best as I could, shooting stray spells.
They were easily overpowered, and I could feel Voldemort's frustration settle in my bones-.
The memory got distorted, and Harry's words no longer made any sense. Dumbledore and Moody would probably want to know what was up with that, as he clearly had tampered with the memory. But Harry and Sirius had agreed that there would be no use in any of them knowing that he housed a Horcrux inside his mind. That the piece of foul magic was the only reason he could feel Voldemort's feelings as if they were his own.
The memory ended with Harry falling flat on his face at the Hogwarts grounds, high on both adrenaline and the fact that they had managed to capture Pettigrew after all. When he was still none the wiser about the horrific attack on Hogwarts that night.
- Grimmauld Place, 22nd of July 1995 -
"He's back," Professor McGonagall whispered, her face as white as a sheet.
"Kreacher, I think we can all use something a little stronger than a cup of tea," Sirius announced, earning nods from the adults in the room.
A barrage of questions followed. But not from his two best friends. Draco and Hermione were staring into each other's eyes, and for the first time, Harry realised that they needed eye contact to use mind magic on one another. That was new. When had that happened? Was it because Draco was still so weak?
"You two didn't seem as surprised as the others," the Boy Who Lived casually said as he led his friends up the stairs after everyone else had gone home. They were the only two staying since they were planning on going to the pool with Castor and Polarys the next day.
Taking note of the awkward silence, Harry couldn't help but be suspicious when Hermione smiled softly and just shook her head, saying they needed time to process this. What bollocks was that? When did Hermione Granger not have questions? Yeah right. As likely as the Mooncalf dance.
"Are you two hiding something from me?" he inquired later that night, as Draco settled in the bed on the other side of Harry's room.
"Have you been watching too many crime and mystery shows with Sirius again now that you're home?" Draco chuckled, deflecting his question.
Harry turned around in his bed, showing Draco his back after he murmured goodnight. Those two were up to something. He was sure of it. He hated being left in the dark. If only, he knew what…