Disclaimer: me no own Harry Potter or anything else the goddess J.K.
Rowling has created. Though I wish I own Draco Malfoy.
The action picks up after the first ten or so paragraphs, so please be patient!
Chapter One
"The sun is shining, the sky is a nice blue, the birds are singing and the world rejoices, for it's a Hogsmeade day!" cheered Ronald Weasley, his freckled face stretched wide with a grin, clear blue eyes gleaming with anticipation, and bright red hair waving happily in the breeze, reflecting its owner's cheerful mood. His slightly faded Hogwarts robes were rumpled and carelessly thrown on, and a bit too short for his long, gangly frame. He walked with a bounce in his step, often throwing impatient glances at his two companions who walked at a more leisurely pace, forcing him to keep stopping to wait for them to catch up.
"Ron, slow down! The place isn't going to run away, you know." protested the only female in the trio, her lilting voice admonishing. Hermione Granger was a slim teenager with once-bushy, now softly curling brown hair, gentle puppy-dog brown eyes that shone with intelligence, and a sweet, caring smile. The way she carried herself, walking in a stately manner with her back comfortably straight, together with her neatly arranged school robes, belayed her mature, responsible personality
"He just wants to get to Zonko's and see if Fred and George managed to sell their inventions like they threatened to," smiled the last person in their group in his rich, light tenor voice. Harry Potter grinned back at Ron, brilliant green eyes glittering with amusement, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. His jet black hair flopped every which way, giving him an adorably irresistible come-and-get-me look, what with his lean, Quidditch-toned body. With his recent growth spurt, he was one of the most popular guys in Hogwarts, sharing the number one spot on the "Boys to die for" list done by the courtesy of the Hogwarts girls.
"Well, yeah, that's true," admitted Ron, grinning. "They wouldn't tell me if they really did sell anything, though. They just told me to 'haul my lazy ass off to Zonko's and look'."
"Very good advice, I might add," Hermione cut in. "It's nice to see you boys do some exercise that doesn't involve Quidditch."
"How can you say that?" demanded Ron in mock horror. "Quidditch is the best exercise anyone can have!"
Laughing, the trio continued their walk down the wide path, feeling the breeze ruffle their hair and the sun shining benevolently down on them. Sounds of bustling town life could be heard from the near distance, but other than the crunch of their footsteps and the rustling of the animals, there was no other sound to spoil the quiet, peaceful scene.
"It's so nice, so calm..." Hermione observed placidly. "That's the nice thing about the wizarding world, no noisy clanking machines to pollute the air."
"Yeah, that's the good bit," Harry said darkly. "You just forgot to mention the evil wizard who wants to take over the world." He looked away, lost in thought. "It's too peaceful. Like the calm before the storm. Voldemort's been lying low ever since the end of fourth year, and it's now in the middle of fifth year. He's going to do something soon, I know it."
"Harry, don't say the name," hissed Ron, exchanging nervous looks with Hermione.
"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," intoned Harry. "I'm not trying to be pessimistic, Ron, just practical. Fudge refuses to admit Voldemort's return, all the more reason why we should be alert, since no one else is." He fell back into the moody silence that Ron and Hermione had become so familiar with now, ever since Cedric's death.
Hermione cast a concerned glance at the famous Boy-Who-Lived, trudging next to her, eyes downcast, head slightly bowed. Ever since fifth year started, Hermione noticed that Harry had been withdrawn, quieter, with an air of weariness around him, unlike the awkward adolescent she had come to love like the brother she never had. Without looking, she knew that his green eyes were veiled with sadness and grief, and deeper down inside, with guilt. Sometimes, he seemed so lost, so hopeless, and it hurt Hermione, and she knew it hurt Ron, too, that they couldn't help him, no matter how they tried to reach out to him time and again.
All they could do was show in as many ways as they could how much they loved him, how much they cared, and hope he would open up to them. They pleaded with him to share his troubles with them, to trust them, for they would accept him and still support him regardless. It seemed that they were succeeding at the times when he would laugh and joke with them, but then he would revert back to his moody self, and it was at these times when Hermione and Ron felt most helpless of all. Harry would look at them with heavy sorrow in his eyes, like he was trying to protect them by distancing himself, trying to keep them safe from the danger that seemed to find him anywhere he went. He seemed to think that pushing himself away from everyone was the best way to show his concern for them, and nothing anyone said changed his opinion. But Ron and Hermione never gave up trying, and never would until they had got the old Harry back.
"Look, there's Hogsmeade!" exclaimed Ron in an effort to break the oppressive silence. Hermione shook herself from her thoughts and looked up. The quaint wizarding settlement was in front of them, filled with all sorts of people hurrying or strolling from place to place. Harry looked up as well, and flinched a little, seeing so many unknown people. He was used to the students at Hogwarts, who he was used to and who basically respected his wishes and left him alone, but here were a whole lot of strangers who would whisper and point when they saw his scar. A lasting reminder of how he had failed Cedric.
"Harry, come on," urged Hermione, a comforting hand on his arm. Harry smiled weakly at her, then at Ron, who had settled himself at Harry's other side. The warm smiles his friends gave him encouraged Harry, and gave him the determination to see this day through, the first day he had ventured outside of Hogwarts or the Muggle world into the Wizarding world.
Together, flanked by his faithful friends Hermione and Ron, Harry walked into Hogsmeade. This isn't as bad as I thought it would be, Harry admitted to himself, waving at Dean and Seamus chatting animatedly with some Ravenclaws. The boys waved back. No buildings are collapsing, nobody staring at me -
Then the fountain in the center of the newly-erected Hogsmeade Square exploded.
There was a stunned silence... then the screaming began, as black hooded figures appeared where the fountain had once been, blasting everything within range, the water creating a dramatic background for their sudden appearance. Chaos erupted as people poured out of buildings, screaming, pushing, shoving, anything to get out of the way, anything to escape. They were all out of their minds with terror, they weren't expecting this, You-Know-Who was supposed to be dead, he was supposed to be dead! Terrified witches and wizards had only one thing on their minds, escape, and to survive. The uglier side of human nature showed itself as they trampled over anything and everything and anybody, not caring as long as they were able to stay alive.
Harry stood stunned, watching with a shocked detachment as the Death Eaters began a systematic destruction of buildings, not caring if people were inside... and then, their circle expanded, as they marched outwards, and green jets of light filled the air...
They were using the Avada curse.
"No." whispered Harry, "No, no, no..."
"NO!!!"
The Boy-Who-Lived charged forward, wand drawn and held ready in front of him, his friends a step behind. He cast spell after spell, not even thinking about it as he dueled with the Death Eaters who had just noticed him and were concentrating on capturing - or killing - the hated enemy of their Lord. Harry sent spells straight back, felling more than a few. Following Harry's example, witches and wizards started to attack the Death Eaters, gathering into clumps for safety in numbers, and the black hooded wizards were forced to break up to deal with them.
But then... there was a blue glow and somehow, somehow none of the spells cast could hit the Death Eaters, instead, they rebounded and hit the innocent witches and wizards instead, and no one dared to cast another spell at them, for fear of hitting the wrong people... and there was an Avada curse headed straight for Harry, and he couldn't dodge it, he couldn't, he was frozen to the spot, seeing the green light lance straight towards him, hearing his mother's screams, seeing her body collapse to the ground, surrounded by a cackling green light -
And he was tumbling on the ground, being roughly yanked along, his friends lost in the crowd. The sounds suddenly lessened, and he was dropped unceremoniously on the dusty ground. Blinking to clear his head, he looked around. He was in the remains of a room, covered in dust from the destroyed building, and hidden from the battle going on outside.
And there was a black shadowy figure looming over him.
Harry yelled and thrust himself away from the mysterious person, scrabbling for his wand, before realizing that that piece of wood the person was twirling was the exact thing he was looking for. *I'll be damned if I'm going to go down lying in the dirt*, Harry thought furiously, and pushed himself up to a standing position, swaying dangerously before righting himself. As an afterthought, he put up his fists. A little silly, considering that he could be knocked out with a simple Stupefy spell, but what the hell. He would go down fighting.
"Fight me like a man, Voldemort's dog," he spat, fury boiling in him, the memories from Cedric's death still fresh in his mind.
"I'd like to, but sadly, I can't, even though I'm more of a man than you are, because one, I'm not working for Voldemort, two, I'm certainly not a dog, and three, there are much more important things to do right now than engage in some pointless fight with the heroic Boy-Who-Lived, like, oh, I don't know, saving the world?" said the person, his smooth tenor voice sarcastic. He then tossed the wand back to Harry and stepped out into a better-lighted part of the room.
"Malfoy?!" Harry accused disbelievingly, taking a good look at the person who just saved his life.
"Ten points to the boy for finally using his brain," drawled Malfoy. His silvery hair caught even the faint sunlight trickling in, shimmering like silky threads of woven silver, and his silvery-gray eyes were cold as usual. His finely sculptured, perfect face was emotionless, with only a faint sneer on his mouth; his tall frame radiated arrogant strength. The pose he stuck, folding his arms into his black Hogwarts robes, gave him an air of superiority and impatience, like he had much better things to do than stand there and watch Harry make a fool of himself.
"Malfoy?!"
"Yes, I think we have long established that fact already, Potter."
"MALFOY?!"
"Shh! Shut up and don't make so much noise or we'll be found in an instant! For the hero of the wizarding world, Potter, you sure are dumb."
Harry decided to ignore the prat and strained to hear what was going on outside. He had more important things to do than beat the Slytherin to a pulp.
"Harry Potter! Come out and surrender or we'll kill your friends and everybody here one by one, every minute, like this! Avada Kedavra!" shouted an emotionless voice from outside the room, sounding muffled through the wall. Harry's eyes widened. "No! They have my friends! And they're killing them!" he said disbelievingly.
"Yes, so come up with a plan to free them," sighed Malfoy with annoyance. "No, forget it, what am I saying? You can't think. If we have to rely on you to get us out alive, I'd rather jump off a cliff first."
"Then why don't you? I don't need your help, thanks," snapped Harry.
"Oh, but might I remind you that I wasn't the one who was standing straight in the path of an Avada Kedavra like a brainless statue? Honestly, Potter! A simple ducking action would have sufficed. But no, you had to act like an idiot and make me ruin my robes! Look, dust all over me, and it's all your pathetic doing."
Harry opened his mouth to insult Malfoy straight back, but then closed it again. Malfoy was right, what had he been doing, frozen to the spot like that? And Harry *was* indebted to him, after all. Maybe Malfoy wasn't as bad as he seemed, if he actually did something as noble as saving someone. Harry had always thought him the Death Eater type, what with his father and all, killing and torturing mercilessly.
Malfoy looked faintly surprised that Harry had not replied, but then shrugged it off. He beckoned to the green-eyed boy, pulling him down to a crouch in front of a half-collapse wall of rubble. "Look," he hissed to Harry, shoving his face into the wall.
Harry looked. He could see all that was happening outside, through the cracks in the wall, and what he saw made him go cold. The death eaters had the Hogwarts students Stupefied, kept in a glowing blue barrier - the one that repelled all magic. There were bodies all over the square, unmoving, and Harry prayed fervently that they were just unconscious, not dead. The death eaters themselves were inside the barrier, facing outwards in a circle, so that not a single movement would escape their notice.
Malfoy pulled Harry back. "See, no one can cast a spell past the barrier, but the barrier itself is physically non-existent. So what you have to do is to get inside that barrier and cast a spell to get rid of them. I'll distract them for you, but you have to be quick," he whispered, voice barely audible even though he was centimeters away from Harry.
Harry nodded, the spells he was going to use already in his mind. The Dilato spell was a very complicated one, which, when used with another spell, expanded that spell's influence so that it affected all within the caster's range, which could range from 5 metres to 10 metres. Harry had practiced this spell, together with other advanced-level curses and defense/attack spells, in secret, and was currently studying more of them. Now he planned to use the Dilato spell together with Stupefy to knock out all the death eaters within his range, which was 10 metres, the furthest the Dilato spell could go.
Harry watched as Malfoy melded with the shadows and slipped away. Precious second ticked past as Harry waited, cold sweat beading on his forehead and palms. His friends' lives were in danger out there, because of him, and if they died - Harry didn't even want to think about that.
He watched with horror as a Death Eater levitated a third-year Hufflepuff and another one aim his wand at the student. "Harry Potter! We will kill this boy now, if you don't come out!" one of them yelled.
*Come on, Malfoy, where are you?!* Harry thought frantically, scanning the grounds for any sign of movement. Then, *Wait, what am I doing? I'm trusting a Slytherin! The idol of the Slytherins at that! Should I just make a run for it and pray for the best - *
He never got to finish his sentence, for the next moment, he had to duck to avoid his head being sliced off by a piece of flying metal. Harry immediately straightened and stared out at the Square. It appeared that yet another building had exploded, but not from the Death Eaters' doing; the aforementioned Death Eaters were in fact pointing their wands in that direction, yelling out curses - and most importantly, *facing away from Harry*.
Harry dashed out from the wall he was crouching behind, and with lightning speed was inside the barrier before he knew it. As if in slow motion, he saw the Death Eaters turn around, even as he yelled in a clear commanding tone, "Dilato Stupefy!" The effect was immediate - all the Death Eaters were knocked unconscious. Those who were outside Harry's range whipped around to aim curses at Harry, but were promptly knocked out with a few well-aimed spells by Draco. The barrier dissolved into the air and disappeared.
Harry looked around him and blinked a few times. It was *over*? Just like that? It seemed too... simple, somehow. Too easy. Surely Voldemort wouldn't let his precious few Death Eaters fall into the hands of the enemy in a matter of minutes. But it looked like it. He had won. But he kept his wand out - just in case.
"Mention I helped you, Potter, and I will chop you into itty bitty ingredients for my potions," intoned a voice behind him. Harry whirled around and stared at Malfoy. His sleek black robes, which were never out of place and always perfectly creased, were torn and dusty and the edges were tattered in rags. The slicked back silvery hair was caked with dust, too, making him look much older, and the gel that usually held it in place was gone, leaving his hair to ripple softly in the tiny breeze. He had kept his wand in his hand, like Harry had; showing that he also felt the danger was not over yet.
"If you don't want people knowing you helped me then why did you?" challenged Harry, too tired to be subtle.
Something in Malfoy's eyes flickered, before the wall of impenetrable silvery-gray glass was back up in his eyes. "I just felt like it, other than that, it's None. Of. Your. Business. It was not done for you, it was not done out of kindness, it wasn't a change of heart; it was a rash impulse that I'm starting to regret. So don't think I've changed and become a soft cuddly teddy bear that you can befriend. I'm as likely to kill you now as I was before. Understand, Potter?
Harry remained silent, disagreement in his eyes.
"Potter. I don't want to argue with you and waste time. I'm dead tired from all that running and I need to get out of here before anyone sees me in this horrible state. If you don't swear you will shut that mouth of yours, I will Obliviate you."
"I didn't think the great Malfoy would use the word teddy," remarked Harry at last.
Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Potter," he hissed, "You have five seconds. Five. Four. Three. Two. One - "
"I swear I won't tell anyone about you helping me," Harry said coolly, fingers discreetly crossed behind his back. It wasn't very nice to lie, really, but this was *Malfoy*. He had to tell Ron and Hermione, it was just too big news. Other than that, he was determined to keep this secret. It wasn't any day that an enemy saved you, and it had to mean something. He was determined to find out what it was, and to do so he had to make Malfoy trust him - or at least, have a semblance of trust in him.
Malfoy sneered at Harry before turning on his heel in a dramatic swirl of black robe (sort of like Snape, Harry noted amusedly), his brisk stride taking him out of sight in an instance. Harry stared blankly into air for a few seconds. Was he forgetting something?
"SHIT!" he suddenly yelled. He had forgotten about his friends! What kind of person was he, to think about his enemy and forget his friends? Hurriedly he dashed towards the huddled figures surrounded by a ring of fallen death eaters. But, halfway there, he crashed into someone that materialized out of thin air.
"Ow! Dammit, watch where you Apparate! I'm trying to save lives here!" groused Harry as he pushed himself from the ground - only to stare open-mouthed at the Headmaster of Hogwarts, who was trying to hide a smile behind his bushy white beard.
"Pro - Professor - Professor Dumbledore!" Harry squeaked, going red. "I - I was just - "
"Did you hear anything?" the Professor asked innocently.
"Er - no, sir. But I do apologise for what we both didn't hear."
"That's all right then. I apologise too, for not being here sooner. Unfortunately, we were held up by another attack by Death Eaters on a location near Hogwarts, and we did not find out about this simultaneous attack until just now, when we hurried here as quickly as possible," Dumbledore informed Harry gravely. "I am sorry for the delay."
Harry looked around him. The Hogwarts teachers, it seemed, had also Apparated along with Dumbledore, and were now in the process of Ennervating all the unconscious victims. Madame Pomfrey was there, busy checking patients with her medical supplies in a big white box next to her; Professor Sprout was putting plant-made medicine on some wounds; Professor Snape was doing the same with his potions, and many other teachers were helping in their own way. "It's okay, Professor Dumbledore. You came just in time."
People were coming back to the Square, looking for loved ones and friends, and to some people's relief, they found them safe and unharmed. But others... Harry could see people cradling unmoving bodies in their arms, sobbing, and he grieved, for he should have saved these people, but they died because of him, and he didn't do anything. He was suffocating under the immense guilt, seeing all those cold, frozen faces around him, dying while the Boy-Who-Lived had lived once again, just like Cedric, dying for him, for no good reason, a boy, a friend with such a bright future in front of him, who excelled in everything, while Harry was just a boy with a stupid scar...
"Harry." Dumbledore's firm voice made him look up. "You're hyperventilating, Harry. Calm down, you did very well. In a war, there are always casualties; we cannot save every single person." Seeing that Harry still wasn't convinced, the Headmaster sighed. "Think about what I said, Harry. It's not your fault that people died. Don't blame yourself. Now, you had better go and check on your friends. I will have a talk with you later to find out what happened."
Harry nodded, and dashed off towards Ron and Hermione who had just stood up, looking disoriented, and he hugged them tightly, relief in every line of his body. Ron and Hermione were equally emotional, and the three remained in a group hug for a few moments, before reluctantly letting go. Hermione wiped a few tears from her eyes. "Harry, I was so worried! The curse was aimed right at you, and then someone came flying out of nowhere and *tackled* you and you disappeared somewhere and I thought you were *dead*! Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're okay!"
Ron was not as articulate, but he managed to put in as much emotion into his one sentence as Hermione did in her tearful speech. He punched Harry weakly in the arm and grinned, "Good job you did there, mate."
Harry smiled back at the two of them, fighting tears. "I'm so glad you both are fine," he told them, voice shaking, a world of relief and gratefulness in his words.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, when there was a loud POP and shocked yells filled the air. Harry whipped around, fear returning in full force, a bad feeling in his gut. And sure enough...
"What? Where did all the Death Eaters go?" he gasped, scanning the 'battlefield'. There was not a single black-robed body amongst all the figures. Adult wizards, with their wands out at the ready, looked bewildered and baffled. Harry chanced a glance at Dumbledore and stared. Livid fury was radiating from the Headmaster, just like it had at the end of fourth year when he had blasted the door to Moody's office into fragments, except that this time, Dumbledore was keeping his rage suppressed, though that only served to make him look even more forbidding.
Harry averted his gaze and instead looked around him, leaving the adults, who were already gathering around Dumbledore, to argue and debate. It was no use thinking about it, since Harry wasn't very good at magical theories, anyway. Looking around, he saw a majority of people hurt, and other people hard at work levitating the larger pieces of rubble to search for any trapped victims. Mediwitches and Mediwizards were Apparating in all over the place, checking wounds and prone bodies. Harry's heart clenched when he saw one of them shake her head after feeling for an unmoving witch's heartbeat, and the wizard holding the certified dead body cradled it all the tighter and cried, his body shaking.
Harry turned away, he himself shaking a little. People were bound to talk after this, asking why hadn't the Boy-Who-Lived done more, why he was still alive when their loved ones were dead. And he'd be scorned, and hated, and there would be no one to grieve his death like the wizard had grieved for his lover, who was dead because Harry hadn't done anything to save her, because Harry had allowed Wormtail to escape and live to help Voldemort live again...
"Herm? Herm!" Ron's panicked voice brought him back to reality. Harry caught Hermione just in time, when she slumped, unconscious. He staggered under the sudden weight, then gently lowered her to the ground, kneeling beside her. Checking her pulse, he breathed a sigh of relief. "She's okay, just over-stretched her nerves, I guess," he told Ron, who was hovering anxiously over them both. "Shock, you know?"
"Yeah," smiled Ron with relief. "That's great. Glad it's nothing more."
"Yeah, it's great..." Harry trailed off, looking past Ron, then stood abruptly. Pushing past a bewildered Ron, he strode toward the only prone Hogwarts figure that was not waking up amongst the other groaning students. Dropping down next to the figure, he rolled the body over, and his blood turned cold.
Dean Thomas's face, frozen in a look of surprise, stared unseeingly up at Harry.
"Dean?" Harry whispered shakily, disbelievingly. He pointed his wand at Dean and choked out, "Ennervate!" But Dean didn't move. Harry stared, tears blinding him, at his dorm-mate. Quiet but so reliable, gentle and helpful, yet fun and energetic at times, Dean couldn't be dead. He couldn't! Harry wouldn't allow it. Not Dean, too. Not after Cedric.
A detached part of Harry noted realized he was shaking Dean harshly, yelling at him to wake up; that his friends were surrounding him, some crying into shoulders, others just gaping in shock; that the teachers were pushing their way into the circle and stopping dead at the sight that greeted them; that his tears were splashing onto Dean's face, his cold, dead face. Harry felt his emotions ball themselves up, locking themselves away into a deep corner of his heart, as his body shuddered with sobs and anguish.
Finally he quieted. He stayed unmoving for a long while, taking in the reality before him, before gently closing Dean's staring eyes and placing his hands on his chest. Standing abruptly, the people around him shrinking away from him, he turned to face Dumbledore, whose face was solemn and grave, his eyes filled with worry for Harry. Before Dumbledore could say anything about how it wasn't Harry's fault, Harry spoke, his voice low and forceful.
"I don't want to hear anything about how deaths are inevitable in war. One of my good friends is dead and I need some time to think, some time to be alone, as does everyone else. So don't follow me where I'm going and don't disturb me if you find me." He shouldered his way out of the crowd, murmuring "Accio Firebolt" as he went. Once outside the press of people, none of whom made to stop him, he waited for his broomstick. In no time at all, the Firebolt sped into his hands and he gracefully got on before soaring into the sky and out of sight of the people on the ground.
Harry tilted his head to the sky, closing his eyes, just feeling the wind buffet him full-force. He urged his broomstick faster, feeling it respond eagerly under his hands. "I'm sorry for that outburst," Harry whispered to his friends somewhere down on the earth below him. "I'll go back to being the Boy-Who-Lived... after I've made sure that I haven't died." But something inside him told Harry that the moment he had seen Dean's dead face, the second person he knew and had failed to protect, the true Harry inside him had surrendered, willingly being locked up in chains of death and darkness.
Who would be the one to bring him back into the light?
+++++
please review, but no flames! My first attempt at a fanfic, so I hope you all will be nice! ^___^ I'm a very insecure person... yeah rite. 'newayz, hope you like this chap!
The action picks up after the first ten or so paragraphs, so please be patient!
Chapter One
"The sun is shining, the sky is a nice blue, the birds are singing and the world rejoices, for it's a Hogsmeade day!" cheered Ronald Weasley, his freckled face stretched wide with a grin, clear blue eyes gleaming with anticipation, and bright red hair waving happily in the breeze, reflecting its owner's cheerful mood. His slightly faded Hogwarts robes were rumpled and carelessly thrown on, and a bit too short for his long, gangly frame. He walked with a bounce in his step, often throwing impatient glances at his two companions who walked at a more leisurely pace, forcing him to keep stopping to wait for them to catch up.
"Ron, slow down! The place isn't going to run away, you know." protested the only female in the trio, her lilting voice admonishing. Hermione Granger was a slim teenager with once-bushy, now softly curling brown hair, gentle puppy-dog brown eyes that shone with intelligence, and a sweet, caring smile. The way she carried herself, walking in a stately manner with her back comfortably straight, together with her neatly arranged school robes, belayed her mature, responsible personality
"He just wants to get to Zonko's and see if Fred and George managed to sell their inventions like they threatened to," smiled the last person in their group in his rich, light tenor voice. Harry Potter grinned back at Ron, brilliant green eyes glittering with amusement, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. His jet black hair flopped every which way, giving him an adorably irresistible come-and-get-me look, what with his lean, Quidditch-toned body. With his recent growth spurt, he was one of the most popular guys in Hogwarts, sharing the number one spot on the "Boys to die for" list done by the courtesy of the Hogwarts girls.
"Well, yeah, that's true," admitted Ron, grinning. "They wouldn't tell me if they really did sell anything, though. They just told me to 'haul my lazy ass off to Zonko's and look'."
"Very good advice, I might add," Hermione cut in. "It's nice to see you boys do some exercise that doesn't involve Quidditch."
"How can you say that?" demanded Ron in mock horror. "Quidditch is the best exercise anyone can have!"
Laughing, the trio continued their walk down the wide path, feeling the breeze ruffle their hair and the sun shining benevolently down on them. Sounds of bustling town life could be heard from the near distance, but other than the crunch of their footsteps and the rustling of the animals, there was no other sound to spoil the quiet, peaceful scene.
"It's so nice, so calm..." Hermione observed placidly. "That's the nice thing about the wizarding world, no noisy clanking machines to pollute the air."
"Yeah, that's the good bit," Harry said darkly. "You just forgot to mention the evil wizard who wants to take over the world." He looked away, lost in thought. "It's too peaceful. Like the calm before the storm. Voldemort's been lying low ever since the end of fourth year, and it's now in the middle of fifth year. He's going to do something soon, I know it."
"Harry, don't say the name," hissed Ron, exchanging nervous looks with Hermione.
"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," intoned Harry. "I'm not trying to be pessimistic, Ron, just practical. Fudge refuses to admit Voldemort's return, all the more reason why we should be alert, since no one else is." He fell back into the moody silence that Ron and Hermione had become so familiar with now, ever since Cedric's death.
Hermione cast a concerned glance at the famous Boy-Who-Lived, trudging next to her, eyes downcast, head slightly bowed. Ever since fifth year started, Hermione noticed that Harry had been withdrawn, quieter, with an air of weariness around him, unlike the awkward adolescent she had come to love like the brother she never had. Without looking, she knew that his green eyes were veiled with sadness and grief, and deeper down inside, with guilt. Sometimes, he seemed so lost, so hopeless, and it hurt Hermione, and she knew it hurt Ron, too, that they couldn't help him, no matter how they tried to reach out to him time and again.
All they could do was show in as many ways as they could how much they loved him, how much they cared, and hope he would open up to them. They pleaded with him to share his troubles with them, to trust them, for they would accept him and still support him regardless. It seemed that they were succeeding at the times when he would laugh and joke with them, but then he would revert back to his moody self, and it was at these times when Hermione and Ron felt most helpless of all. Harry would look at them with heavy sorrow in his eyes, like he was trying to protect them by distancing himself, trying to keep them safe from the danger that seemed to find him anywhere he went. He seemed to think that pushing himself away from everyone was the best way to show his concern for them, and nothing anyone said changed his opinion. But Ron and Hermione never gave up trying, and never would until they had got the old Harry back.
"Look, there's Hogsmeade!" exclaimed Ron in an effort to break the oppressive silence. Hermione shook herself from her thoughts and looked up. The quaint wizarding settlement was in front of them, filled with all sorts of people hurrying or strolling from place to place. Harry looked up as well, and flinched a little, seeing so many unknown people. He was used to the students at Hogwarts, who he was used to and who basically respected his wishes and left him alone, but here were a whole lot of strangers who would whisper and point when they saw his scar. A lasting reminder of how he had failed Cedric.
"Harry, come on," urged Hermione, a comforting hand on his arm. Harry smiled weakly at her, then at Ron, who had settled himself at Harry's other side. The warm smiles his friends gave him encouraged Harry, and gave him the determination to see this day through, the first day he had ventured outside of Hogwarts or the Muggle world into the Wizarding world.
Together, flanked by his faithful friends Hermione and Ron, Harry walked into Hogsmeade. This isn't as bad as I thought it would be, Harry admitted to himself, waving at Dean and Seamus chatting animatedly with some Ravenclaws. The boys waved back. No buildings are collapsing, nobody staring at me -
Then the fountain in the center of the newly-erected Hogsmeade Square exploded.
There was a stunned silence... then the screaming began, as black hooded figures appeared where the fountain had once been, blasting everything within range, the water creating a dramatic background for their sudden appearance. Chaos erupted as people poured out of buildings, screaming, pushing, shoving, anything to get out of the way, anything to escape. They were all out of their minds with terror, they weren't expecting this, You-Know-Who was supposed to be dead, he was supposed to be dead! Terrified witches and wizards had only one thing on their minds, escape, and to survive. The uglier side of human nature showed itself as they trampled over anything and everything and anybody, not caring as long as they were able to stay alive.
Harry stood stunned, watching with a shocked detachment as the Death Eaters began a systematic destruction of buildings, not caring if people were inside... and then, their circle expanded, as they marched outwards, and green jets of light filled the air...
They were using the Avada curse.
"No." whispered Harry, "No, no, no..."
"NO!!!"
The Boy-Who-Lived charged forward, wand drawn and held ready in front of him, his friends a step behind. He cast spell after spell, not even thinking about it as he dueled with the Death Eaters who had just noticed him and were concentrating on capturing - or killing - the hated enemy of their Lord. Harry sent spells straight back, felling more than a few. Following Harry's example, witches and wizards started to attack the Death Eaters, gathering into clumps for safety in numbers, and the black hooded wizards were forced to break up to deal with them.
But then... there was a blue glow and somehow, somehow none of the spells cast could hit the Death Eaters, instead, they rebounded and hit the innocent witches and wizards instead, and no one dared to cast another spell at them, for fear of hitting the wrong people... and there was an Avada curse headed straight for Harry, and he couldn't dodge it, he couldn't, he was frozen to the spot, seeing the green light lance straight towards him, hearing his mother's screams, seeing her body collapse to the ground, surrounded by a cackling green light -
And he was tumbling on the ground, being roughly yanked along, his friends lost in the crowd. The sounds suddenly lessened, and he was dropped unceremoniously on the dusty ground. Blinking to clear his head, he looked around. He was in the remains of a room, covered in dust from the destroyed building, and hidden from the battle going on outside.
And there was a black shadowy figure looming over him.
Harry yelled and thrust himself away from the mysterious person, scrabbling for his wand, before realizing that that piece of wood the person was twirling was the exact thing he was looking for. *I'll be damned if I'm going to go down lying in the dirt*, Harry thought furiously, and pushed himself up to a standing position, swaying dangerously before righting himself. As an afterthought, he put up his fists. A little silly, considering that he could be knocked out with a simple Stupefy spell, but what the hell. He would go down fighting.
"Fight me like a man, Voldemort's dog," he spat, fury boiling in him, the memories from Cedric's death still fresh in his mind.
"I'd like to, but sadly, I can't, even though I'm more of a man than you are, because one, I'm not working for Voldemort, two, I'm certainly not a dog, and three, there are much more important things to do right now than engage in some pointless fight with the heroic Boy-Who-Lived, like, oh, I don't know, saving the world?" said the person, his smooth tenor voice sarcastic. He then tossed the wand back to Harry and stepped out into a better-lighted part of the room.
"Malfoy?!" Harry accused disbelievingly, taking a good look at the person who just saved his life.
"Ten points to the boy for finally using his brain," drawled Malfoy. His silvery hair caught even the faint sunlight trickling in, shimmering like silky threads of woven silver, and his silvery-gray eyes were cold as usual. His finely sculptured, perfect face was emotionless, with only a faint sneer on his mouth; his tall frame radiated arrogant strength. The pose he stuck, folding his arms into his black Hogwarts robes, gave him an air of superiority and impatience, like he had much better things to do than stand there and watch Harry make a fool of himself.
"Malfoy?!"
"Yes, I think we have long established that fact already, Potter."
"MALFOY?!"
"Shh! Shut up and don't make so much noise or we'll be found in an instant! For the hero of the wizarding world, Potter, you sure are dumb."
Harry decided to ignore the prat and strained to hear what was going on outside. He had more important things to do than beat the Slytherin to a pulp.
"Harry Potter! Come out and surrender or we'll kill your friends and everybody here one by one, every minute, like this! Avada Kedavra!" shouted an emotionless voice from outside the room, sounding muffled through the wall. Harry's eyes widened. "No! They have my friends! And they're killing them!" he said disbelievingly.
"Yes, so come up with a plan to free them," sighed Malfoy with annoyance. "No, forget it, what am I saying? You can't think. If we have to rely on you to get us out alive, I'd rather jump off a cliff first."
"Then why don't you? I don't need your help, thanks," snapped Harry.
"Oh, but might I remind you that I wasn't the one who was standing straight in the path of an Avada Kedavra like a brainless statue? Honestly, Potter! A simple ducking action would have sufficed. But no, you had to act like an idiot and make me ruin my robes! Look, dust all over me, and it's all your pathetic doing."
Harry opened his mouth to insult Malfoy straight back, but then closed it again. Malfoy was right, what had he been doing, frozen to the spot like that? And Harry *was* indebted to him, after all. Maybe Malfoy wasn't as bad as he seemed, if he actually did something as noble as saving someone. Harry had always thought him the Death Eater type, what with his father and all, killing and torturing mercilessly.
Malfoy looked faintly surprised that Harry had not replied, but then shrugged it off. He beckoned to the green-eyed boy, pulling him down to a crouch in front of a half-collapse wall of rubble. "Look," he hissed to Harry, shoving his face into the wall.
Harry looked. He could see all that was happening outside, through the cracks in the wall, and what he saw made him go cold. The death eaters had the Hogwarts students Stupefied, kept in a glowing blue barrier - the one that repelled all magic. There were bodies all over the square, unmoving, and Harry prayed fervently that they were just unconscious, not dead. The death eaters themselves were inside the barrier, facing outwards in a circle, so that not a single movement would escape their notice.
Malfoy pulled Harry back. "See, no one can cast a spell past the barrier, but the barrier itself is physically non-existent. So what you have to do is to get inside that barrier and cast a spell to get rid of them. I'll distract them for you, but you have to be quick," he whispered, voice barely audible even though he was centimeters away from Harry.
Harry nodded, the spells he was going to use already in his mind. The Dilato spell was a very complicated one, which, when used with another spell, expanded that spell's influence so that it affected all within the caster's range, which could range from 5 metres to 10 metres. Harry had practiced this spell, together with other advanced-level curses and defense/attack spells, in secret, and was currently studying more of them. Now he planned to use the Dilato spell together with Stupefy to knock out all the death eaters within his range, which was 10 metres, the furthest the Dilato spell could go.
Harry watched as Malfoy melded with the shadows and slipped away. Precious second ticked past as Harry waited, cold sweat beading on his forehead and palms. His friends' lives were in danger out there, because of him, and if they died - Harry didn't even want to think about that.
He watched with horror as a Death Eater levitated a third-year Hufflepuff and another one aim his wand at the student. "Harry Potter! We will kill this boy now, if you don't come out!" one of them yelled.
*Come on, Malfoy, where are you?!* Harry thought frantically, scanning the grounds for any sign of movement. Then, *Wait, what am I doing? I'm trusting a Slytherin! The idol of the Slytherins at that! Should I just make a run for it and pray for the best - *
He never got to finish his sentence, for the next moment, he had to duck to avoid his head being sliced off by a piece of flying metal. Harry immediately straightened and stared out at the Square. It appeared that yet another building had exploded, but not from the Death Eaters' doing; the aforementioned Death Eaters were in fact pointing their wands in that direction, yelling out curses - and most importantly, *facing away from Harry*.
Harry dashed out from the wall he was crouching behind, and with lightning speed was inside the barrier before he knew it. As if in slow motion, he saw the Death Eaters turn around, even as he yelled in a clear commanding tone, "Dilato Stupefy!" The effect was immediate - all the Death Eaters were knocked unconscious. Those who were outside Harry's range whipped around to aim curses at Harry, but were promptly knocked out with a few well-aimed spells by Draco. The barrier dissolved into the air and disappeared.
Harry looked around him and blinked a few times. It was *over*? Just like that? It seemed too... simple, somehow. Too easy. Surely Voldemort wouldn't let his precious few Death Eaters fall into the hands of the enemy in a matter of minutes. But it looked like it. He had won. But he kept his wand out - just in case.
"Mention I helped you, Potter, and I will chop you into itty bitty ingredients for my potions," intoned a voice behind him. Harry whirled around and stared at Malfoy. His sleek black robes, which were never out of place and always perfectly creased, were torn and dusty and the edges were tattered in rags. The slicked back silvery hair was caked with dust, too, making him look much older, and the gel that usually held it in place was gone, leaving his hair to ripple softly in the tiny breeze. He had kept his wand in his hand, like Harry had; showing that he also felt the danger was not over yet.
"If you don't want people knowing you helped me then why did you?" challenged Harry, too tired to be subtle.
Something in Malfoy's eyes flickered, before the wall of impenetrable silvery-gray glass was back up in his eyes. "I just felt like it, other than that, it's None. Of. Your. Business. It was not done for you, it was not done out of kindness, it wasn't a change of heart; it was a rash impulse that I'm starting to regret. So don't think I've changed and become a soft cuddly teddy bear that you can befriend. I'm as likely to kill you now as I was before. Understand, Potter?
Harry remained silent, disagreement in his eyes.
"Potter. I don't want to argue with you and waste time. I'm dead tired from all that running and I need to get out of here before anyone sees me in this horrible state. If you don't swear you will shut that mouth of yours, I will Obliviate you."
"I didn't think the great Malfoy would use the word teddy," remarked Harry at last.
Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Potter," he hissed, "You have five seconds. Five. Four. Three. Two. One - "
"I swear I won't tell anyone about you helping me," Harry said coolly, fingers discreetly crossed behind his back. It wasn't very nice to lie, really, but this was *Malfoy*. He had to tell Ron and Hermione, it was just too big news. Other than that, he was determined to keep this secret. It wasn't any day that an enemy saved you, and it had to mean something. He was determined to find out what it was, and to do so he had to make Malfoy trust him - or at least, have a semblance of trust in him.
Malfoy sneered at Harry before turning on his heel in a dramatic swirl of black robe (sort of like Snape, Harry noted amusedly), his brisk stride taking him out of sight in an instance. Harry stared blankly into air for a few seconds. Was he forgetting something?
"SHIT!" he suddenly yelled. He had forgotten about his friends! What kind of person was he, to think about his enemy and forget his friends? Hurriedly he dashed towards the huddled figures surrounded by a ring of fallen death eaters. But, halfway there, he crashed into someone that materialized out of thin air.
"Ow! Dammit, watch where you Apparate! I'm trying to save lives here!" groused Harry as he pushed himself from the ground - only to stare open-mouthed at the Headmaster of Hogwarts, who was trying to hide a smile behind his bushy white beard.
"Pro - Professor - Professor Dumbledore!" Harry squeaked, going red. "I - I was just - "
"Did you hear anything?" the Professor asked innocently.
"Er - no, sir. But I do apologise for what we both didn't hear."
"That's all right then. I apologise too, for not being here sooner. Unfortunately, we were held up by another attack by Death Eaters on a location near Hogwarts, and we did not find out about this simultaneous attack until just now, when we hurried here as quickly as possible," Dumbledore informed Harry gravely. "I am sorry for the delay."
Harry looked around him. The Hogwarts teachers, it seemed, had also Apparated along with Dumbledore, and were now in the process of Ennervating all the unconscious victims. Madame Pomfrey was there, busy checking patients with her medical supplies in a big white box next to her; Professor Sprout was putting plant-made medicine on some wounds; Professor Snape was doing the same with his potions, and many other teachers were helping in their own way. "It's okay, Professor Dumbledore. You came just in time."
People were coming back to the Square, looking for loved ones and friends, and to some people's relief, they found them safe and unharmed. But others... Harry could see people cradling unmoving bodies in their arms, sobbing, and he grieved, for he should have saved these people, but they died because of him, and he didn't do anything. He was suffocating under the immense guilt, seeing all those cold, frozen faces around him, dying while the Boy-Who-Lived had lived once again, just like Cedric, dying for him, for no good reason, a boy, a friend with such a bright future in front of him, who excelled in everything, while Harry was just a boy with a stupid scar...
"Harry." Dumbledore's firm voice made him look up. "You're hyperventilating, Harry. Calm down, you did very well. In a war, there are always casualties; we cannot save every single person." Seeing that Harry still wasn't convinced, the Headmaster sighed. "Think about what I said, Harry. It's not your fault that people died. Don't blame yourself. Now, you had better go and check on your friends. I will have a talk with you later to find out what happened."
Harry nodded, and dashed off towards Ron and Hermione who had just stood up, looking disoriented, and he hugged them tightly, relief in every line of his body. Ron and Hermione were equally emotional, and the three remained in a group hug for a few moments, before reluctantly letting go. Hermione wiped a few tears from her eyes. "Harry, I was so worried! The curse was aimed right at you, and then someone came flying out of nowhere and *tackled* you and you disappeared somewhere and I thought you were *dead*! Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're okay!"
Ron was not as articulate, but he managed to put in as much emotion into his one sentence as Hermione did in her tearful speech. He punched Harry weakly in the arm and grinned, "Good job you did there, mate."
Harry smiled back at the two of them, fighting tears. "I'm so glad you both are fine," he told them, voice shaking, a world of relief and gratefulness in his words.
Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, when there was a loud POP and shocked yells filled the air. Harry whipped around, fear returning in full force, a bad feeling in his gut. And sure enough...
"What? Where did all the Death Eaters go?" he gasped, scanning the 'battlefield'. There was not a single black-robed body amongst all the figures. Adult wizards, with their wands out at the ready, looked bewildered and baffled. Harry chanced a glance at Dumbledore and stared. Livid fury was radiating from the Headmaster, just like it had at the end of fourth year when he had blasted the door to Moody's office into fragments, except that this time, Dumbledore was keeping his rage suppressed, though that only served to make him look even more forbidding.
Harry averted his gaze and instead looked around him, leaving the adults, who were already gathering around Dumbledore, to argue and debate. It was no use thinking about it, since Harry wasn't very good at magical theories, anyway. Looking around, he saw a majority of people hurt, and other people hard at work levitating the larger pieces of rubble to search for any trapped victims. Mediwitches and Mediwizards were Apparating in all over the place, checking wounds and prone bodies. Harry's heart clenched when he saw one of them shake her head after feeling for an unmoving witch's heartbeat, and the wizard holding the certified dead body cradled it all the tighter and cried, his body shaking.
Harry turned away, he himself shaking a little. People were bound to talk after this, asking why hadn't the Boy-Who-Lived done more, why he was still alive when their loved ones were dead. And he'd be scorned, and hated, and there would be no one to grieve his death like the wizard had grieved for his lover, who was dead because Harry hadn't done anything to save her, because Harry had allowed Wormtail to escape and live to help Voldemort live again...
"Herm? Herm!" Ron's panicked voice brought him back to reality. Harry caught Hermione just in time, when she slumped, unconscious. He staggered under the sudden weight, then gently lowered her to the ground, kneeling beside her. Checking her pulse, he breathed a sigh of relief. "She's okay, just over-stretched her nerves, I guess," he told Ron, who was hovering anxiously over them both. "Shock, you know?"
"Yeah," smiled Ron with relief. "That's great. Glad it's nothing more."
"Yeah, it's great..." Harry trailed off, looking past Ron, then stood abruptly. Pushing past a bewildered Ron, he strode toward the only prone Hogwarts figure that was not waking up amongst the other groaning students. Dropping down next to the figure, he rolled the body over, and his blood turned cold.
Dean Thomas's face, frozen in a look of surprise, stared unseeingly up at Harry.
"Dean?" Harry whispered shakily, disbelievingly. He pointed his wand at Dean and choked out, "Ennervate!" But Dean didn't move. Harry stared, tears blinding him, at his dorm-mate. Quiet but so reliable, gentle and helpful, yet fun and energetic at times, Dean couldn't be dead. He couldn't! Harry wouldn't allow it. Not Dean, too. Not after Cedric.
A detached part of Harry noted realized he was shaking Dean harshly, yelling at him to wake up; that his friends were surrounding him, some crying into shoulders, others just gaping in shock; that the teachers were pushing their way into the circle and stopping dead at the sight that greeted them; that his tears were splashing onto Dean's face, his cold, dead face. Harry felt his emotions ball themselves up, locking themselves away into a deep corner of his heart, as his body shuddered with sobs and anguish.
Finally he quieted. He stayed unmoving for a long while, taking in the reality before him, before gently closing Dean's staring eyes and placing his hands on his chest. Standing abruptly, the people around him shrinking away from him, he turned to face Dumbledore, whose face was solemn and grave, his eyes filled with worry for Harry. Before Dumbledore could say anything about how it wasn't Harry's fault, Harry spoke, his voice low and forceful.
"I don't want to hear anything about how deaths are inevitable in war. One of my good friends is dead and I need some time to think, some time to be alone, as does everyone else. So don't follow me where I'm going and don't disturb me if you find me." He shouldered his way out of the crowd, murmuring "Accio Firebolt" as he went. Once outside the press of people, none of whom made to stop him, he waited for his broomstick. In no time at all, the Firebolt sped into his hands and he gracefully got on before soaring into the sky and out of sight of the people on the ground.
Harry tilted his head to the sky, closing his eyes, just feeling the wind buffet him full-force. He urged his broomstick faster, feeling it respond eagerly under his hands. "I'm sorry for that outburst," Harry whispered to his friends somewhere down on the earth below him. "I'll go back to being the Boy-Who-Lived... after I've made sure that I haven't died." But something inside him told Harry that the moment he had seen Dean's dead face, the second person he knew and had failed to protect, the true Harry inside him had surrendered, willingly being locked up in chains of death and darkness.
Who would be the one to bring him back into the light?
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please review, but no flames! My first attempt at a fanfic, so I hope you all will be nice! ^___^ I'm a very insecure person... yeah rite. 'newayz, hope you like this chap!