Chapter 15 - Old Wounds & Broken Dreams

Harry woke up in the infirmary and immediately began breathe erratically. He looked around frantically, shock etched on his face. How had he ended up here?He did not have fond memories of this place. After all, the last time he was here, he was being pursued by a murderous Lucius Malfoy backed by a corrupt Ministry. His breathing relaxed once he realized he wasn't in immediate danger. Then it all came back to him.

The first task.

The Ottaral Dragon.

Whose idea had it been to use a bloody magic-negating Elder Dragon in a competition held on Britain's largest school of magic! To think about it, why would someone have gone to all the lengths to get Harry in the tournament when they could've gotten the Boy-Who-Lived instead?

Harry pressed a hand to his head. Sinister things were afoot once more, and with the presence of the Elder Dragon and her prophetic words, Harry felt out of depth and more than a little scared. He could have died yesterday, if Korabas had so wished. He had been moments away from utter annihilation, but the Dragon had spared him. Was it truly because he had been kind to her? Or would she ask something from him later? A favour? For that matter, what could he do for such an elder being anyway?

Questions upon questions, with no answers in sight. He sighed and shook his head. That was when he was pulled out of his reverie as a brown-haired rocket shot at him and he suddenly found his hands full of a softly sobbing girl who was squeezing him for all he was worth.

"Hermione," he whispered in the crook of her neck. She drew back at his words, offered him a teary smile, slapped him a couple of times on his chest, before hugging him with all her might once again. For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger was speechless. So, she let her actions do the talking, and convey all that mere words could not.

Harry smiled against her hair and muttered, "I've missed you too, Hermione."

Before she could reciprocate his sentiments, or say her piece, the others arrived, and Harry reluctantly pulled away from her and gazed coolly at the newcomers.

X—X—X

Albus Dumbledore stared at Harry with an unreadable expression on his face. James Potter stood beside him, his face a mixture of shock and guilt. Iris and Daniel Potter stood behind him, the former gazing at him with a rueful smile on her face, while the latter was simply awestruck – and was that fear in his eyes? Ronald Weasley stood by the Boy-Who-Lived, unsure of what to make of the situation, while Neville flanked Iris, as confused as the rest of them.

Finally, it was Albus Dumbledore who broke the silence. "Harry…Potter…Welcome back."

Harry schooled his expression and replied blankly. "Thank you, sir, but the name is Black. Harry Black."

There was a sharp intake of breath from James Potter at Harry's words, while everyone else had varying levels of shock on their faces – except for Hermione, who clutched Harry's hand tightly and held it close. She knew how torturous a topic this was for Harry, and how tough it was for him to speak in such a cold manner. But he was not a person who trusted easily, and after all that he had experienced, she couldn't blame him, even though she knew the Potter family heavily regretted their actions and had been trying to undo them for years and years.

"Come now, Harry, you're family has been searching for you for years. Your father has heavily regretted his actions. Do you not see the toll it has taken on them? Can't you forgive a heartbroken husband and father his actions? One who has been trying to make amends for over a decade?" Dumbledore spoke genially, his eyes tinted with sorrow. "Can you not give them the peace they so deserve?"

Harry barked a harsh laugh at that. "Peace? What about my peace, Professor Dumbledore? What about peace for a boy who was routinely beaten by his uncle and aunt for being a 'freak' until he was taken away? What about peace for a boy who had no one to call his own, who was forced to live in the cupboard under the stairs? What about peace for a boy who lost his mother and then was thrown out by the very family who was supposed to be there for him? What does he get?"

James Potter choked at Harry's words, unable to deny them. He still did not know why he had done what he had done, it was as if someone else had been in control of his body and mind, and it had only been years later that he had realized his mistake, seen through the haze surrounding his mind, and remembered his other son. But how could he tell that to the boy? How could he explain it to the boy who had lost it all due to his weakness? He could not even ask for forgiveness, because a part of him knew, he did not deserve it. And so, he kept quiet, letting his old Headmaster do the talking.

"Are you willing to carry such spite in your heart, Harry? Such hatred? It could lead you down a dark path, one from which you would be unable to recover." Before Harry could retort, Albus continued. "No, I do not mean you will turn dark. Nor do I mean you will seek revenge. No, I only mean will you be able to live with yourself if you know you could have had it all back – the family you always wanted, the life which was supposed to be yours – and yet you threw it away due to hatred, due to righteous anger, no matter how justified you thought it was?"

Harry could feel Dumbledore's eyes penetrate his very soul as he spoke, and he knew the truth of those words. Even now, a part of Harry, the part which had cried for his mother in the darkness of the cupboard, the part which had cried for his father whenever his uncle and aunt hit him, a part which cried for his siblings whenever Dudley had played the game of Harry Hunting yearned for the peace of family. To have someone whom he could unconditionally call his own. But there was too much bad blood between them, a rift of darkness and despair and broken dreams which could not mend easily – if it ever could – and Harry was sure Dumbledore knew his answer even before he uttered it.

"No, headmaster. I cannot go back to pretending everything is all right," Harry said, a part of him wistful, and another part of him angry with himself for sounding so hapless, for the yearning obvious in his words. He steeled himself and continued. "Not after all that has happened. No. After all, Daniel and his friends were willing to believe I was dark and evil just because I carried the name of Black and was sorted into Slytherin."

"That was because I thought you were related to Bellatrix. She was the only Black alive," Daniel yelled suddenly, but Harry ignored his words.

Hermione held Harry's hand tightly, showing him she was there for him as he emptied his heart, as he let his feelings out for the first time in years. All the suppressed rage, anger, despair and hopelessness visible in his cracking voice, in his broken expression as he spoke.

"Perhaps I can forgive you, if that is what you want," Harry said, his expression passing all over them, regal like a king bestowing a gift upon his subjects, even though it pained him gratefully. "However, I cannot forget. The memories of all that I suffered after I was thrown out remain vivid in my mind, they haunt my past, and they have moulded me into what I am today. They are as much as part of Harry Black, as he is a part of them. So I forgive you, for your sake, so you may stop regretting your actions. But I cannot – will not – forget. I will not be hurt again," he said the last part in an icy tone, as he softly removed his hand from Hermione's grip.

"I am only here for the tournament, Headmaster Dumbledore, to find out who placed me in it, and for what reasons. It seems nefarious forces are at work to bring me down," Harry said in those same tones. "I would be much obliged if I would be allowed to sit the classes here at Hogwarts until the tournament ends, much like you have allowed the other schools to do. After all, the Goblet's magicks have forced me here, and it seems I will have to do my best to compete. But do not worry, I won't overstay my welcome."

"Nonsense, dear boy," said Dumbledore, taking the peace offering Harry was offering him by staying in the vicinity of his family. "You are welcome to complete all your remaining years of schooling here. The Ministry has dropped the case against Harry Black long ago, and now that word is out about you being Harry Potter, I am sure Lucius Malfoy won't be so heavyhanded in his schemes against you, knowing the repercussions he will have to face if he does."

Harry gave Dumbledore a curious glance and nodded. Just how much did the Supreme Mugwump know about Lucius and his assassins? And had he played any role in distracting them and helping Harry over the years since his escape? Harry couldn't help but wonder.

"What do you mean by Lucius Malfoy and schemes, Albus? Is he trying to harm my son? I demand answers!" yelled a white-faced James Potter. Albus calmly patted his hand and said in that reasonable voice of his, "Let us move to my office, James. I will explain whatever I know." He turned to leave. "Take care of yourself, Harry. I believe Madame Pomfrey has your Golden Egg. It holds the clue to the next task. Open it when you are ready." With a small nod at Hermione and the others, Albus Dumbledore left the infirmary, a reluctant James Potter trailing in his wake. "Be safe, Harry," he whispered in the distance. Then, he spoke under his breath, not knowing that the treacherous wind had carried his words to Harry and the others. "I hope someday you can truly forgive me and let go of your hate, even if I never forgive myself."

As the two left, Daniel Potter was about to say something, but Harry fell back on his bed. He was still exhausted from his battle – nay, annihilation – at the hands of Korabas, and sleep was already pulling at him, and he couldn't deal with any more emotions today, so he walked into the welcome arms of the sandman once again, far from the world, into the safety and warmth of happy dreams. Into a world of dreams, where his mother smiled at him with those green eyes and told him bedtime stories as she tucked him into bed, where his father pranked him and his sibling. Into a world of dreams, where Moony helped him study, where Peter wasn't a traitor, and where his godfather was still alive.

Into dreams, where a bushy-haired witch snuggled into his side, always there for him. Into dreams, where he was loved.

X—X—X

AN: So, a lot of people thought Harry was overpowered in the previous chapter, but the only reason he survived was because Korabas let him. He was annihilated by her, and all he could do was completely let loose with his magic and ingenuity – all of which though put on a strong fight against her, was ultimately nothing to the Elder Dragon. His kindness and decency in the face of death though gave her pause, and she let him live – as well as the vision of the future she saw, which showed Harry's importance in the times that were to come.

As for those expecting bashing and an easy win for Harry, this isn't that kind of fic. Here, we will explore emotions and feelings and their complicated nature, much as in real life, and how they take a toll on people. We will have a Voldemort who is truly the greatest Dark Lord of his time, with an army of dark creatures and equally malicious cohorts. It isn't going to be easy to win, and Harry and the gang are going to be at their very best, and keep improving, if they are to have a strong chance. The enemy has manipulated the Ministry and brought an Ottaral Dragon into the fray, and Harry and Hogwarts would have been dead, if it hadn't been for the Elder Dragons whims, her vision, and Harry's decency. The enemy who can fool the Ministry into doing its bidding as mere vapour and shadow is one which is to be feared. Dark times lie ahead, dear reader, and I hope we will be able to explore them together, with Harry and the gang. Oh, and though he's dead, we haven't seen the last of Sirius yet, so Padfoot fans, don't look away yet!

Hope you all had as good a time reading this as I had writing it.

As always, reviews and goodness help me write.

Until next time.

Pip pip.