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Author: Robert Owen Story: Invictus Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 0 Words: 146,488
As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the windows of Professor Dumbledore’s office, each occupant silently looked up and tried to find hope in the light of a new day. No one had slept the night before. Molly and Arthur had been summoned to the castle, where they had joined Dumbledore, Lupin, Ron, Ginny, McGonagall, and Snape in the Headmaster’s office to await developments. Close to midnight, Snape had been summoned by Voldemort to attend a meeting. The Dark Mark had burned with such intensity that the former Death Eater had barely been able to stand to leave. Now, in the dawn’s light, Snape walked back into the office with a look that betrayed nothing. Ginny pounced on him. “Professor Snape? Did you find out something? Is Harry all right? Are they alive? Please, you’ve got to tell me!” Snape looked down at Ginny with something akin to pity. “It would appear that Mr. Potter and Miss Granger were taken by the Dark Lord for a purpose I know nothing of. What I can tell you is that whatever he had planned, Potter somehow managed to thwart it. The Dark Lord was furious beyond anything I’ve ever seen. He killed three Death Eaters simply because he felt they were too slow in responding to his summons. When I left, he had both Pettigrew and Lucius Malfoy under the Cruciatus curse and I do not think he plans to release them anytime soon.” Snape paused and took a sip of the tea offered by McGonagall. He then continued. “The only other bit of information I could gleam from the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters was that Potter and Granger may, and I stress this, may be dead.” Ginny’s moan of despair filled the room as her shoulders slumped in defeat. “No! He can’t be dead! I don’t believe you! I won’t believe you!” Snape lips curled back in a sneer. “Potter challenged the might of the Dark Lord and paid the price! I always knew that he…” SLAP! The imprint of Ginny’s hand showed clearly on the Potion master’s sallow skin. “DON”T YOU EVER SAY THAT! You’ve hated Harry from the very beginning! I’ve heard it’s because of Harry’s father and a prank gone wrong, but I think there’s another reason. I think you hate him because Harry has something you don’t. Harry understands love. He loves me and I love him! You, for all your skills, can’t understand that, and you hate everyone who does!” The fire in Ginny’s eyes shown with such emotion that Lupin actually feared for Snape’s safety. “Tell me, Professor, has there ever been someone special in your life?” Snape started to open his mouth in reply, but then caught the murderous look on Ron’s face, as well as the matching one in Molly’s eyes, as she looked on from the spot where Ginny had collapsed following her tirade, and snapped it shut. With a curt nod to Dumbledore, he turned and retreated from the room with as much dignity as he could muster. Lupin sighed openly in relief and turned to look out the window. What he saw caused him to blink and look again. Then he shouted, “LOOK!” and pointed at a distant speck slowly approaching Hogwarts from the west. The others crowded around the window and then, as one, bolted for the exit! The crowd thundered down the corridor and raced down the stairs, forcing Snape to do a quick one-legged pirouette to avoid being run over. As Remus charged past, he yelled, “Come on!” and Snape, realizing something had occurred, regained his balance and followed. *********** In her seventeen years, Hermione had never been so glad to see a dawn as she was now. She had flown all night, stopping only periodically to check Harry’s condition and to confirm her direction. By morning, however, the frigid night air had taken its toll and she found it harder and harder to stay awake and focused. Indeed, three times in the last two hours, she had dozed off; only to jerk awake minutes later as the makeshift flying stretcher had drifted off course and almost crashed into trees. Finally, as the first rays of the sun peeked over the hills to her front, she saw silhouetted against the skyline, the lofty spire of Gryffindor Tower! Turning to Harry, she shouted, “Harry! We made it! I can see Hogwarts!” Getting no response, she glanced down and, in the dim morning light, saw his pale unconscious form lying deathly still under the layers of robes. Hermione turned again to look at Hogwarts, repeating in her mind, “Please, let me make it in time. Please, God, don’t let him die.” A half-hour later, she slowly circled into the central courtyard of the castle. Exhausted and frozen from the all night flight, Hermione’s legs gave out as soon as she touched down. However, to her surprise, she didn’t hit the ground, but instead found herself wrapped protectively in Ron’s arms. It had been close, but Dumbledore, and the others, had reached the courtyard just as Hermione landed. Even as she started to collapse, Ron, with a speed that astonished the others, threw himself across the intervening space to catch her before she hit the ground. Hermione stared up into Ron’s face in disbelief and then sobbed in relief as all the fear she’d kept buried finally found release. Ron, feeling somewhat helpless, held Hermione even tighter as she whispered through her tears, “C…C…Cold! So…v...v…very cold! Hold me, Ron. Please hold me!” to which he simply replied, over and over again, ‘I’m here, Hermione. You’re safe now.” Then, ever so slightly, Ron felt her body begin to relax as Hermione slowly calmed down. At first, she seemed to be asleep, then, with a jerk, she sat bolt upright and, clutching at Ron’s robes, she managed to gasp out through chattering teeth, “Help Harry!” and pointed to the stretcher. Ron glanced over and saw that Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall were already busy casting spells and charms to stabilize Harry, even as they made ready to carry him to the Hospital Wing. He also saw that his parents were physically restraining Ginny so that the professors could do their work. Struggling against the hands holding her, Ginny cried uncontrollably as she looked at Harry’s pale and still form. Finally, collapsing into Molly’s arms, Ginny looked up into her mother’s face, with eyes full of tears, and voiced the question on everyone’s mind. “Will he be all right?” Molly pulled her tight against her chest and whispered the only answer she could, “I don’t know, dear. I don’t know.” Ginny sobbed into her mother’s robes and whispered, “I love him, Mum. I can’t lose him now. I can’t.” *********** Harry awoke to the familiar sight of the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts and Madam Pomfrey tending to his wounds. As he took in his surroundings, he noticed that only Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey were present. Glancing to his left, he saw a bed with rumpled sheets which, given Pomfrey’s penchant for neat beds, told him that somebody had just left. He wondered if it had been Hermione and if she was now back in Gryffindor Tower. Then, it hit him. Hermione…Son Tey…Voldemort…and…Beth. He closed his eyes again and groaned as the memories of what he’d endured came rushing back. Madam Pomfrey stopped wrapping a bandage around his right shoulder and asked solicitously, “Are you all right, Mr. Potter? Is there any pain?” Harry shook his head. “No.” then added softly, “Is Hermione all right?” The nurse paused in her ministrations and regarded Harry with eyes that spoke of understanding his need to know the answer. “Yes, she returned to Gryffindor Tower a short time ago. I had her stay here for observation and to give her some privacy while the Headmaster has sought to make sense of what happened to the two of you.” Pomfrey finished wrapping the bandage around his shoulder and smiled. “There, all done. You suffered a great deal of physical abuse and injury, but fortunately, I was able to fix the majority of it over the past two days while you’ve slept. I’m afraid, however, that your shoulder will require some more time.” Pointing to the bandage she’d just completed wrapping, Pomfrey continued, “Now, I’ve soaked the bandage in a potion, which will help regenerate your skin. By tomorrow night, you’ll just have a scar and in two days, the damage will be all healed, and your shoulder will be as good as new.” Harry looked down at the bandage, but said nothing as the nurse gathered her things, remade Hermione’s bed with a flick of her wand, and left the room. Dumbledore stood and silently regarded Harry, saying nothing. The silence stretched on until finally, Harry broke first. “Would you please leave, sir? I don’t want to talk right now.” Dumbledore shook his head with evident regret. “I sincerely wish that were an option, Harry. Unfortunately, we must know what happened if we are to be ready for Voldemort’s next move.” Harry gave a short bitter laugh. “What next move? He tried to gain immortality and failed!” “So I gathered from what Miss Granger could tell me. However, her knowledge of what you endured is rather limited. I was hoping you could shed some further light on the events of the past few days.” The words came softly, “I can’t.” “Can’t or won’t, Harry?” Harry exploded at Dumbledore! “I DON”T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!” Then, more quietly, “You don’t understand. You can’t understand, sir.” Dumbledore nodded gravely. “You are correct, Harry, but I wish to try and understand because I want to help you.” The scream of rage tore itself from Harry’s throat. “YOU CAN”T! NO ONE CAN!” Dumbledore regarded Harry with quiet intensity, his blue eyes reflecting sympathy and comprehension. Then, he sat down next to Harry’s bed and asked, “I would ask you to reconsider, Harry, not for myself, but for all those less fortunate than you, and Miss Granger.” Harry said nothing, simply staring a point on the far wall for several minutes. Then, in a soft, monotone, voice, he began to speak. And as Harry spoke, and the story unfolded, Professor Albus Dumbledore: Supreme Mugwump, Headmaster of Hogwarts, the man who’d defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald, and one of the most powerful wizards alive, silently cried in his heart for what Harry had lost, and might never regain. *********** Finally, several hours later, Harry fell silent, his gaze dropping from the spot on the far wall to his own lap. Dumbledore waited as the silence stretched on, and then stood to go. “I will leave you to rest now, Harry. You’ve had a most trying ordeal and, I fear, a longer one ahead of you.” Walking towards the door, the Headmaster stopped and added, “I also want you to know that I have already sent a copy of Miss Granger’s statement of the events, along with a pensieve recording of her memories, to the Minister. I have recommended that Sirius Black finally be cleared of the false charges against him. In light of recent events, I expect the recommendation to be acted upon favorably. Thus, with a little luck, your godfather will be a free man within a few days. I trust that will help.” Harry glanced up from his lap and said, in a whisper, “Thank you, sir.” Nodding gravely, Dumbledore replied, “You are most welcome, Harry.” Then, as he made to leave, Dumbledore paused at the door and looked back at Harry lying in his bed. “Miss Weasley has been asking about you most incessantly. Would you like me to send for her?” “No.” Dumbledore’s eyebrows went up in mild shock at the flat monotone of Harry’s answer. After a moment’s silence, he asked, “May I inquire as to why?” Harry refused to look at Dumbledore as he replied, “I failed her.” Dumbledore walked back over to Harry’s bed and gently laid a hand on his uninjured shoulder. “Unless I’m mistaken, Harry, she loves you very much. Miss Weasley deserves to see you. I believe that she’s earned at least that much with her sacrifices on your behalf.” Harry said nothing, but the slump in his shoulders told Dumbledore that his point had been made. The Headmaster continued, “We are all human, Harry. None of us, I included, are so infallible as to be perfect. Love is the one thing that Voldemort does not truly comprehend. Miss Weasley loves you, Harry. Let her help you find your way home.” Still refusing to look his Headmaster in the eye, Harry spoke softly, as if speaking not to Dumbledore, but to himself. “She doesn’t deserve me, sir.” Dumbledore sighed as he turned to leave. Speaking softly, he asked, “Don’t you think that should be her choice to make?” Then, he closed the door, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. *********** The next morning, Harry awoke to the gentle warmth of a sunbeam lying on his face. Finding himself alone in the Hospital wing, he arose, made use of the facilities, and took a long hot shower in the bathroom, careful not to let his bandaged right shoulder get wet. Leaving the bathroom, he slowly walked back to his bed and proceeded to get dressed. Leaving his shoes for later, Harry returned to the window and watched the morning post owls enter and depart the Great Hall. A part of him wished he could fly away with them, and thus escape what he knew would inevitably occur. He again wondered why the Sorting Hat had placed him in Gryffindor. A Gryffindor was supposed to have courage, strength of character, heart. Yet, he’d displayed none of these. In the end, he’d chosen to let Voldemort simply kill him rather than try and find a way to hold on one more day, and in doing so, he’d betrayed Ginny’s trust. He was supposed to love her, to want to be with her, to be willing to die for her. Instead, when he’d lost hope, he’d wanted to die for himself. How could he face her again after this betrayal? How could he tell her he loved her, when he’d given up so easily? How could he even begin to consider a life with her, when he’d been unable to justify living for her? Behind him, Harry heard the door open and several sets of soft footsteps approached his bed. He knew, without looking, who one of the footsteps belonged to. He felt a slim set of arms wrap around his waist as a small body pressed itself against his back. Even through his clothes, he imagined he could feel the beat of Ginny’s heart, so tightly did she hold him. Yet, in spite of her presence, Harry did nothing, instead, choosing to continue to stare out the window, seemingly oblivious to Ginny’s murmurings into the back of his shirt. Soon, he felt the back of his shirt grow damp as the steady stream of her tears soaked the cotton material. Still, he didn’t turn, didn’t respond, didn’t react. Finally, Ginny loosed her grip slightly and whispered, “Harry, thank Merlin you’re alive! I’d thought I’d lost you!” Physically turning his body, Ginny laid her head against his chest and said the three words Harry didn’t want to hear. “I love you.” When Harry made no effort to respond, Ginny reached up and pulled his face down to look at her. What she saw caused her to step back in shock. Ginny had grown used to looking into Harry’s emerald green eyes and seeing the love he had for her reflected back. In that look, instead, Ginny saw eyes that were listless, dull, and unresponsive. However, for one brief instant, there had been a flash of recognition, pain, and something more. Shame. She took a deep breath, to try and steady her already shaken nerves, and asked the only question she could articulate. “Harry? Why won’t you look at me?” Harry said nothing, just turning back to stare out the window again. Molly and Arthur, who’d accompanied their daughter to the Hospital Wing, remained silent, watching the scene unfold, knowing in their hearts that something had changed within Harry, and quietly praying that Ginny could help him find his way back. Ginny slowly walked over and gently laid a hand on Harry’s arm. The flinch that went through Harry’s body might as well have been a slap to her face. Recoiling in surprise, Ginny managed to sputter, “H…H…Harry, please talk…” A new voice sounded in the room. “I’m afraid, Miss Weasley, that your conversation with Harry will have to wait until later.” Ginny whirled to find Professor Dumbledore standing behind her. A/N: My thanks to Sherry, Bart and Imogen for the wonderful beta work. Regarding the cliffy, ain’t I a stinker? Please remember to direct all howlers to Bart.
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