Chapter Fourteen: In the Rows of Truth
News filtered into the school the Saturday after Voldemort's attack on London in the manner of terrified letters sent by concerned family members of certain students. Many others watched eagerly for the Daily Prophets to arrive, but they never would. The Daily Prophet had been destroyed that day with a good section of London, as Voldemort rampaged to reach the Ministry of Magic. The students were forced to accept Quibblers to find news of Voldemort's attack. Many others watched in fear as McGonagall began to call names of students that should follow her. Occasionally, students would burst with tears when their names were called. When the Weasleys were called, they remained silent, though Ron's head swiveled until his eyes locked on Harry. Harry instantly saw the threat underlying the death stare.
'He will be coming back.' Harry knew this with certainty.
Harry turned his attention to the Headmaster, who had been eyeing him since his return earlier that morning, and he suddenly felt unsure. The way the aged man looked at him was not normal. The hair on his arm rose on end as he met Dumbledore's icy blue eyes. Harry's mind felt a brief tingle, and he quickly tightened his walls before looking away.
'Bastard,' Harry angrily stormed.
His head jerked to the door of the Great Hall where Ronald Weasley now stood trembling. Behind him, Harry heard Dumbledore rise from his seat at the head table. However, the Headmaster did not react fully, until Ron stood directly in front of Harry and removed his wand.
"My brother is dead." Weasley stated acidly. "He's dead!"
Harry's blank expression only seemed to infuriate Ron further.
"Die, bastard!" The grieving boy shouted, filling the Great Hall which had suddenly became unnaturally silent.
Harry stared idly at the tip of the redhead's wand, which was directed at his face. "Do it." He whispered. "Fall to my level."
"You, bastard!" Tears of rage streaked down Weasley's face, as his wand hand shook with turmoil.
"Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said calmly. "Harry did not kill Percy."
"His 'father' did!" Ron yelled. "Voldemort is his father, and he killed my brother! This piece of shit would have done it, if he had been there."
Dumbledore calmly sought to pacify the adolescent. "You cannot know that, Ronald."
Ron shook his head in fury.
"People die, Weasley." Harry murmured. "You can't bring them back. You're brother is dead. He is beyond your grasp. Feel more sympathy for yourself, you're still alive. The living should envy the dead."
Weasley's face turned a bright scarlet, and his lips began to move to say the words. However, his wand suddenly flew from his hand. He looked startled as he peered at James Potter, who now held his wand. Potter also had his own wand trained on Ron. Ron's face suddenly expressed his confusion.
"Why?" He questioned hysterically. "He deserves to die! How many people has he killed?"
To the astonishment of all, who were watching, Harry walked toward Ron. James's wand changed targets, coming to rest on the black-haired adolescent. Harry stopped when his face was directly in front of Ron's. Quietly, he leaned forward so Ron would be the only one capable of hearing his words.
"You didn't hear," Harry began in a mere whisper. "I envy the dead. No memories, no dreams, just pure nothingness." With those words, he walked out of the hall, leaving everyone in a state of shock.
Dumbledore turned toward James. "I want you to bring him to me tomorrow, James. We have to end this."
James slowly nodded his head, though he suddenly had reservations. "I'll bring him."
Dumbledore then surveyed the startled students, who were staring at him for guidance after Ronald's outburst. "All is well." He said loudly. "Mr. Weasley is distraught at the loss of his brother. Now, Mr. Weasley, I think we should take you to your family." Then to James, Dumbledore said, "Find Harry, and take him outside until the students calm down."
Harry sat besides James Potter, as he, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black idly talk. The three would occasionally stop and watch as Dorian Potter flew his broom through what tricks he knew. The sun was out, along with a slight breeze, making the afternoon very pleasant.
"Can you really blame Ron?" Sirius said loudly. "His brother's head was mutilated beyond recognition by that blast! If we hadn't seen Percy get hit by that curse, there is no way we would have been able to identify him."
"Sirius-." The werewolf began before Harry toned out the group's conversation.
Instead, Harry took to ignoring their conversation and just watched silently with great interest as his biological brother pulled off an impressive dive. His curiosity must have shown, because James Potter seemed to see it.
"Do you fly?"
Harry kept his face neutral. "No."
Draco handed him the broom to try. It was a new Nimbus Two Thousand and One. At twelve years of age, Harry had always dreamed of this moment. Last year should have been his first, but father was always putting it off and with all Harry's missions there just had not been time.
A giddy smile filled his youthful face, as he climbed on to the broom. His eyes widened when he saw his father's gaunt hands suddenly grasp the wooden handle. He raised them from the hands to his father's face, and took in his father's disapproval.
"Why can't I fly a broom?" He asked with innocence. He just could not understand why he had to wait, while Draco did not.
"You could get hurt." His father had replied. "I need you, Harry… besides I do not want you to be harm."
"Why?" James asked in his usual casual manner.
"He doesn't want me to be hurt."
Sirius snorted at this. "So instead he gives you a wand, a few daggers, and an arsenal of spells, telling to go kill people. Like your not going to get hurt doing that."
"Sirius," Lupin hissed, warning his friend.
"Moony-." Sirius began.
"Do you want to fly?" James asked.
Lupin and Black's mouths dropped, while Harry's eyes widened.
"Are you insane?" Black gasped.
James frowned at his friend. "He can't leave the ground even on a broomstick. Everything will be fine, Padfoot." James rose and began to direct Harry to the pitch. Dorian landed when he saw them.
He smiled, as he hopped off his broomstick. "What do you think?"
"Slytherin doesn't stand a chance." James said fondly as he beamed at his son.
Harry's head tilted to the side. 'This is what my life might have been.' Harry thought with little emotion. 'No, this was never meant to be my life.'
"Harry's going to give it a try." James stated. "He's never flown before."
Dorian smiled widely at this. "It's easy! You're a Potter, I'm sure you'll just take to it." Without hesitation, Dorian held his new Firebolt out for Harry to take.
"Are you sure?" Harry asked quietly. Now that he had his first chance, he did not want it. He had always pictured his father being there.
"Take it." Dorian said, giving Harry a friendly pat on the shoulder.
Hesitating slightly, Harry got on the broom. "What now?"
"Just kick up and fly." Dorian stated. "Oh, and don't run into anything."
Harry's face furrowed into deep concentration, as he kicked his feet off the ground. Immediately, he found himself soaring into the air. A glee that he had never felt before filled his body. He felt as if he might burst. Harry pushed the broom through its paces until he found the perfect speed. Once he had reached that velocity, he put the broom into a roll that took his breath away. Below him, the group looked so small. The scenery was also so much different. It was beautiful. He stored it into his memory, wanting to cherish forever. He knew that he would not get to ride anytime soon, especially when he returned to his father.
Gradually, he felt that he should return to the earth. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he was surrounded by the small group. Harry was taken aback by their looks of astonishment. At first he thought, it was because of his flying abilities, until he realized why they were looking at him oddly. He was smiling.
With realization, he quickly deadened his face, resuming his normal unfeeling facial expression. Seeing his son's reaction, James Potter decided to talk nonchalantly to the boy who just wanted to hide.
"Remarkable for the first time, Harry." James said.
Harry shrugged his shoulders, wishing desperately to be somewhere else at this moment.
Dorian smiled as Harry handed him back his broomstick. "Fun isn't it?"
Harry gave a brief nod. He was becoming increasingly self-conscious with all their gawking looks. "I would like to return to my room."
"It's such a nice day." James stated. "Sure you want to waste it inside."
"Yes." With this, Harry began his retreat back to the school, leaving James to race to catch up with him.
Sirius frowned as he watched the pair walk away. "He's just a kid."
Remus nodded his head. "Today, we truly saw him without the mask on. It only makes it harder, Padfoot."
"I think we are really getting through to him." Sirius retorted.
Remus snorted. "Harry is a child, yet he is still a weapon crafted by Voldemort. We would do well to not forget that."
Dorian listened in silence as his uncles conversed with each other. 'Uncle Remus is wrong. He has to be… just this once.'
"What are you going to do, Dumbledore?" James asked quietly.
Dumbledore eyed James casually. "Are you alright, James?
James exhaled quietly, his eyes becoming distant. "Yesterday, he smiled. He has Lily's smile."
The headmaster's eyes twinkled brightly, as he grasped the younger man's shoulder. "I intend to show him the truth."
"Just… I don't know." James stated with frustration evident in his voice.
"All will be well." Dumbledore turned toward his study's door. "I do not know how long this will take, so perhaps you should visit with Remus. You will not be missing anything here."
James nodded. After the headmaster had vanished he continued to stare at the door. 'Sometimes, Albus, I fear you fail to see people as they are, especially when you become too engrossed in your plans.' Reluctantly, James left to find Remus.
Inside Dumbledore's study, Harry waited for the headmaster to arrive. The sense of foreboding that he had felt yesterday morning had suddenly heightened. Harry did not notice the professor's entrance until he saw the aged man in his periphery view. Without a word, Dumbledore seated himself behind his desk. He stared into Harry's eyes. When Harry felt a rapid pull in his mind, he quickly raised his walls.
Dumbledore sighed. "I was afraid we would have to do this the hard way. I am truly sorry, Harry."
The quick assault on Harry's mind took his breath away. He rose to his feet as he struggled against Dumbledore's onslaught.
"Why?" Harry asked aloud.
'I need to see the end of the hallway.' The headmaster's voice echoed through his head, though he had not spoken a word vocally.
'No,' Harry felt his mind scream in pain as the walls he threw up were peeled aside.
'Please, Harry, let them down.' Dumbledore's voice beckoned. 'It will be painless.'
His feet traveled down a hallway. At its end, he could see light emitting from a room. The doors were open, welcoming his entrance.
'No,' Harry screamed answer, as the image distorted before it completely vanished.
Dumbledore pushed harder. Harry felt himself fall to his knees, but this did not stop the pain as more barriers fell.
His diminutive hands clasped the wand, which seemed too big for them, until they hurt. His emerald eyes stared down the long corridor with apprehension rising in his throat. Despite the fear, his legs carried him steadily forward as if they had a mind of there own.
'Stop this!' Harry screamed as his finger dug into the floor of the study.
'I can't do that, Harry.' A solemn voice stated.
"Father," a five year old Harry smiled, as he accepted the wand. "Thank you! I will use it well."
"I have no doubt that you will." His father stated, as he lifted his son's face. "There is something I need you to do for me. It is something that only you can do."
Dumbledore was almost flung from of Harry's mind with this last memory.
'What did he ask you do, Harry?' He asked.
'Get out of my mind!' Harry gave another push, however the headmaster refused to budge. And with that last resistance, Harry's walls fell completely to the old man's attack.
"Blood traitors, father?"
"Yes, Harry, they are pureblooded wizards who have betrayed the Wizarding world like Albus Dumbledore."
Harry cringed inwardly at the name. "They would take me away from you… like Dubledore?" Harry said, stumbling on the wizard's name.
"Yes, Harry, they follow him."
"You're going to protect me for them. Won't you?"
Voldemort looked sadly down upon his son. "This time, Harry, I can't get to them. I need your help. You are going to protect both of us this time."
Harry smiled at the idea of helping his father. "What do I do?"
'Please,' Harry found himself begging the headmaster.
"Don't worry, Harry, you will not be alone in this task. I will be with you." Voldemort raised his wand, pointing it at Harry. With one motion from it, Harry felt his world drifting away and suddenly his mind felt fuzzy. However, he could still hear his father's voice.
'Come with me, Harry.'
On their own accord, his legs followed.
Using his mind against the headmaster, Harry tried to change memories. Now He understood why his father had tried to teach him occlumency. His mind had never seemed capable to grasp it, because of that here he was now on his hands and knees before Albus Dumbledore. The pain was becoming unbearable, causing hot tears to fall from behind his tightly closed eyes.
The door was opened and emitted light into the closed confines of the hallway. His legs carried him forth. The room came into view with its decorated walls, displaying various paintings and some wizarding family photos. One painting in particular caught his interest, as he traveled on. It was a pastoral scene… the very opposite of what would occur here this very night. Harry's youthful mind desperately wished he could disappear into its canvassed world. But his legs would not allow him to do so.
The two people now turned to look at him. Some emotion seemed to flicker in their eyes, but Harry did not understand…
In one vain attempt to stop the memory, Harry screamed. It fell on deaf ears.
"Harry? Harry Potter?" The man asked dumbfounded when he noticed the boy that stood a few feet from him and his wife.
"Harry's out right now." Harry's mouth repeated what his father's voice said.
The man's face froze. "Alice, he's under-."
His voice went forever mute, silenced by a green light that had emitted from Harry's wand.
The woman with a round face screamed in horror as her husband fell back into the wall. Her brown eyes returned to Harry, as he stood his wand resting on her. "Please, Harry, you don't want to do this."
"I think I do woman." The voice of his father whispered.
A cry in the corner caused both their heads to turn.
"Neville!" She cried as she stepped in front of her son.
"It is not my intention for him to die… yet."
Tears sprang from her eyes. "Harry, please, do not let anything happen to my son. I ask only that."
Harry felt his wand hand suddenly quiver as his cloudy head cleared slightly. "I… Avada Kedavra!"
The woman fell to the ground before her son who watched Harry in terror. "Mommy!" He cried.
"It won't do for you to remember exactly what transpired here." Harry's voice paused. His hand moved, erasing the boy's memories and imprinting new ones in their place. Instead of seeing a boy with unruly black hair kill his parent, Neville saw a snake-like man wearing black robes. The boy that looked so much like his mother, collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. With one final flick of the wand, a lighting bolt shaped scar appeared on the boy's forehead.
Harry watched, as Neville slept. The fog cleared in his mind, and he looked at the woman in alarm. She was not breathing. The wand fell from his hand. The man was not breathing either. His hands shook violently as he picked up his wand and fled from the house. He understood now.
The assault suddenly came to an end. Dumbledore looked sadly down at the boy who had his forehead resting on the floor. He watched, as Harry's body shuddered with each sob that left his body.
"I am sorry, Harry, that you had to witness that once more." Dumbledore whispered. "I had to show you how Voldemort used you to achieve his own ends. You had to know."
Harry's body stilled. Slowly, he raised his tear-stained eyes until they met Dumbledore's. "I will kill you." Harry whispered through clenched teeth.
Dumbledore shook his head. "Tom used the Imperius Curse on you, Harry. The Longbottoms' deaths served no purpose. It was senseless. Can't you see that?"
"He used that curse on me, so I wouldn't be the one killing them. He took those memories away so I would be able to sleep at night." Harry wiped his eyes with the balls of his hands. "I agreed to go into that house. My father gave me the choice."
"Harry-."
"Don't pity me!" Harry hissed, his eyes flaring. "You don't understand. After that murder not even a year passed before I was doing my father's bidding once more. Everything that I have done has been my choice."
"You do not enjoy what you do, Harry. Your soul is being broken into so many pieces." Dumbledore paused. "Let me give you another choice… a path away from the destruction that is impending if you stay on this course."
"I am not ignorant. I have seen and still feel your methods." Harry murmured, as he touched his hurting head. "You would only use me for your means just as my father often does. I choose my own path, Dumbledore, even if it leads me to the gates of hell."
The twinkle in the headmaster's eyes had long since died. "I refuse to lose you to that darkness that Tom has allowed to fester in your heart."
"You've already lost." Harry chuckled, as he looked out the window at the Quidditch Pitch. "Yesterday was only a dream… thank you for shattering it. I should have known better then to give into such fantasy. People like me can never be happy; Destiny is always there to destroy what little hopes we have."
"We will discuss this later."
'If I'm here later.' Harry turned his back on the headmaster. "Mark my words, Dumbledore… your murder will be the first that I enjoy."
He received no reply. Harry had not really expected one, so he continued out the door. He had no doubt that the Aurors were watching his every move, but he no longer cared. In the interior of his robe, he tightly grasped Draco's note in his pocket. 'He better have a way out.'
Harry's little lungs hurt as he ran. He did not look where he was going. The buildings of London passed by him as he did so, turning into blurs. Hot tears refused to stop, despite his many attempts to quash them. He stopped running only when he reached a dark alley that turned out to be a dead-end. As he turned ready to leave it, Harry noticed a frail looking black horse standing at the mouth of the alley. His heart seemed to stop as he stared at the creature.
As if in an act of sympathy, the horse bowed its head to him. Harry's panic abated, and he slowly approached the horse. Its white eyes watched Harry's hand as it moved to pet it. As he stroke the horse's nose, the tight knot in his throat loosened. Its ears suddenly perked, and without warning the horse spread its wings and flew away from Harry, leaving him dazed and confused.
Young Master? Harry heard Nagini's voice echo in the enclosed alley.
They weren't breathing, Nagini. Harry hissed quietly.
The large snake wrapped her body comfortingly around the small boy. Ssshh. Your father is very worried.
I killed his parents… he is alone.
Return with me, Harry. Your father will make it go away. The snake soothingly hissed into his ear. It will trouble you no longer. Beside, your father made it so it wasn't you. Your body was just his vessel to get into the house. You helped your father so much.
Harry smiled at the snake, and in a small voice asked, Really?
The snake appeared to smile. Come your father is waiting. He will make this night disappear.
Harry rose to his feet. I don't want to forget the horse, though.
The snake tilted her head looking perplexed. What horse?
The edge of his lips twitched, threatening to turn into a smile. Perhaps, later, Nagini… I want to see father.