Harry Potter and the Path of War

Harry Potter and the path of war

Chapter 2: Acceptance

Harry did not sleep that night. Instead he cried, shutting himself in his room, collapsing on his bed and crying, having no shields or barriers to put up to stop the tears fighting their way out.

Why me? He thought, as he sobbed. Why me? Why does all this have to happen to me? Why did my parents have to die, why did Cedric have to die, why did Sirius have to die, who's next? Who's death am I going to be responsible for next? Why did I have to be in that prophecy, why couldn't Neville be the one who has to kill Voldemort? I can't do it, no matter what Professor Dumbledore says, I could never fight like he did at the Ministry, I'm just a useless little kid who can't do anything right. Well, apart from get people killed. . . .

He once again saw Sirius in his mind, laughing and smiling. He looked so happy. . .

I'm so sorry Sirius, I didn't mean for it to happen, I didn't do it on purpose, I'm so sorry, so sorry. . .

He saw Cedric, grinning at him as they prepared to touch the Triwizard cup. As Cedric prepared for his death. . . .

I'm sorry Cedric, I killed you, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry for killing you, I should have been the one to die, it was me he wanted to kill, not you. . . .

He saw his parents, as fifteen year olds in Snape's Pensieve, but then they spoke with older voices; his dad was telling his mum to run while he held Voldemort off, and then his mum was pleading with Voldemort for his, Harry's, life, his mum dying to protect him. . . .

I'm sorry Mum, I'm sorry Dad, you'd still be here if it wasn't for me, if I'd never existed you'd still be alive, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for being a disappointment to you, I'm sorry for being the reason why you died, I'm sorry for everything, so sorry. . . .

He fell to the floor, holding his head in his hands and crying, sobs forcing their way out of him, sounding like they came from the depths of his soul itself. All he could think of was how sorry he was, and all he could see were images of the people whose deaths he was responsible for; his parents, Cedric, Sirius. . . .

More sobs escaped him, stronger this time, making his whole body shake. The images flashed faster as the words of apology continued to invade his thoughts, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. . . .

Images merged together, a green light sped towards Cedric as Sirius fell backwards through the veil, while his parents in their fifteen year old forms waited for death, knowing they were about to die, because of him, Harry. . . .

I'm sorry Cedric, I'm sorry Mum, I'm sorry Dad, I'm sorry Sirius, I'm so, so sorry. . . .

His mind continued to repeat these words as he sunk further and further into blackness, and Harry Potter eventually collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

* * * * * * * *

White. He could see white above him. He reached out to touch it, but his hand touched nothing but air. He tried again, swinging his arm in front of him; nothing. He then swung it behind his head, and felt a sharp pain as his hand collided with something solid. The pain startling him from his half-awake state, Harry opened his eyes wide, sat up slowly and looked around.

He was in his bedroom in Privet Drive. The white he had seen he now saw had been the the white ceiling of his room, and the thing his hand had collided with had been a wooden legpost of his bed. Harry rubbed his eyes, looking around at the window, and was surprised to see it was already pitch black outside. The last time he had looked, it had been sunset. How long had he been asleep? He wondered. And why had he been sleeping on the floor?

Harry shakily stood up and made his way to his bed, where he sat down heavily. He could not remember what had happened. The last thing he remembered was that he had been on his bed, upset after he had run off from Lupin, because Lupin had. . .said something, yes, something upsetting, but what was it?

Sirius is dead.

Harry's memory suddenly came back to him, and his head spun momentarily as he remembered everything that had happened. He lay down, his heart going a mile a minute as he remembered the ordeal. He had been overcome by grief, and had seemingly passed out because of it. Probably because of the strong emotions, he reasoned to himself.

He suddenly felt trapped, and without thinking about it he stood up, wrenched open his bedroom door and ran down the stairs, needing to be out of the house to escape the sudden feeling of imprisonment. As he entered the front hall, Harry stopped dead. Looking at the clock on the wall, he saw it was one o'clock in the morning.

I can't just walk out like that, there could be Death Eaters spying on my house, I could get myself killed, he thought rationally, recalling something Lupin had said earlier in the day, when he had been lecturing him for having a one-way screaming contest with an invisible person.

But he needed to get out. He needed to think, think things through, and he couldn't do that in the house. Instead Harry quickly raced upstairs and into his room, heedless of the noise he made, and dived at his trunk. Five minutes later, he emerged triumphantly with his Invisibility Cloak, half the contents of his trunk strewn all over the floor. Harry raced back downstairs, grabbed a key and went out the back door, thinking that if Death Eaters were spying on him, it was probably safer to use the back door. Harry scrambled over the garden fence and dropped down into the small alleyway separating number five's garden from the Dursley's, walked out of the alleyway and onto the open front of Privet Drive, and began to walk up the road.

It was a clear, cool night, with a light breeze blowing. Harry looked up as he passed number eight and saw the stars and moon shining down, looking very bright in the clearness of the summers night. They calmed him a bit, and he carried on walking up Privet Drive.

Before he knew it, he had turned a corner and entered Magnolia Crescent. As he walked he saw the narrow alleyway down the side of the garage where the Dementors had attacked him and Dudley last summer, and where he had first seen Sirius. He had been disguised as Snuffles that night. . . . Harry quickly strode past it.

Harry turned into Magnolia Road and headed to the park, as he had done so many times last summer, frustrated at being trapped in Little Whinging with no news. He had more important things on his mind this summer though, rather than being jealous his friends were together without him.

Not feeling confident enough to vault the park fence while wearing the Invisibility Cloak (which was still quite big on him), Harry instead pushed open the rusty gate to the park, which protested loudly as he did so. He glanced around at the park, lit only by a couple of lamposts that must have been installed while he was away at Hogwarts for his fifth year, as they hadn't been there last summer, when he had frequently come here. The only swing that Dudley's gang had not broke last summer had now been successfully broke, along with the slide, which had the remains of a small bonfire at the bottom, with what looked like a few blown-up cans of deodorant littered around it.

Harry sighed to himself and walked further into the park, away from the children's area and over to an isolated bench a fair distance away from the path, but which was still well lit enough for Harry to not be sitting completely in the dark. Harry lay down on the bench and looked up at the clear, night sky, littered with bright stars. He let his thoughts go as he stared up at them, feeling somewhat calmed by the peacefulness of the night, and the emptiness of the park around him.

He stayed like this for several minutes, until he shook his head and reminded himself that he had come out here to think, not forget. Taking a deep breath and summoning up all his courage, Harry said the words that he had been trying to deny the truth of since the beginning of the summer.

"Sirius is dead."

Harry breathed again, feeling a strange sort of relief now that he had admitted it out loud. He was surprised that he did not feel any anger anymore, or self-loathing. All he felt for Sirius now was loss, for both Sirius and himself. His life had been such a waste, Harry thought sadly. He had spent thirteen years in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit, to escape only to become a prisoner in his own home, a home he hated. At least he must have died feeling free, Harry thought bitterly.

But Sirius was dead, and Harry realised that now. He had to get on with his life, he had to get ready to defeat Voldemort, and he couldn't do that with the shadow of Sirius's death hanging over him. He knew that he would never forget Sirius, and that he would always feel partly responsible for his death, but Harry felt like he could at least get on with his life now, even if it would still be a while before he fully came to the terms with the loss he felt by Sirius's death.

That's what Sirius would have wanted, Harry thought to himself. He would have wanted me to move on, to go on and make him proud.

And that's what he would do, Harry vowed to himself. He would make Sirius proud, make his Mum and Dad proud, and he would get revenge for them. Yes, he would make them proud by avenging their deaths, by killing the bastard who was responsible for their deaths. He wouldn't let them down.

Harry took one last look at the beautiful night sky before sitting up and swinging his legs off the bench. He felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders by accepting Sirius's death, and he now had yet another motivation to defeat Voldemort and his forces; to avenge his godfather's murder.

Harry walked silently through the empty streets and back to Privet Drive, feeling calmer and more in control of himself and his life than he had all summer, his only companions the night and the stars, as he accepted Sirius Black's death.

* * * * * * * *

Harry awoke at his usual time the next day, determined to uphold the vows he had made to himself, his parents and Sirius the night before. He quickly dressed in his running clothes, tucked his wand in the waistband of his shorts and ran down the stairs and out the front door, intending to wait for Lupin before stretching out. Despite everything that had happened the day before, Harry had a feeling that Lupin would still be there, ready to accompany Harry on his morning run. It would be like him, Harry thought to himself.

He sat on the doorstep, straining his ears for any sound of movement, but none came. After ten minutes of waiting, Harry had begun to doubt his belief that Lupin was coming, and so he jumped and reached for his wand when he heard a voice speak from the path in front of him.

"Good morning Harry, ready for your morning run?" Lupin's voice to Harry sounded tired, as if he hadn't slept all night. Harry nodded to the path, in the general direction the voice seemed to be coming from.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Harry stood up quickly and stretched out, exchanging small talk with Lupin as he did so, then ran out of the garden and down the road, on the road to the shops that he used for his morning run. He could hear Lupin's feet pounding along behind him, and smiled at the familiarity of it all.

On the run, Lupin did not mention Sirius, or say anything about Harry's outburst the day before; nor did he say anything about it after the run, at breakfast, or on the way to Mrs Figg's house. Lupin seemed to understand that Harry did not want to talk about it, and did not press him. Harry was grateful for this; he did not feel like giving an explanation of what had happened last night to anyone.

When Harry and Lupin arrived at Mrs Figg's house, they were greeted at the door by a tall woman with short orange hair and bright pink robes. She looked like she wouldn't look out of place at one of the raves that Harry had heard Dudley and his mates talking about, and Aunt Petunia complaining about.

"Wotcher Harry!" Tonks said happily, as Harry and Lupin moved into the house. "I'm your teacher today, as I hope old Remy already told you. We're doing Concealment and Disguise, and who better to teach you that then a Metamorphmagus such as myself?" Tonks sounded very happy and excited, as she babbled on while locking the numerous locks on Mrs Figg's front door. In fact, she was so excited that she kept on dropping the keys that she needed to lock the door, making frustrated noises every time she did so.

"Er, Tonks, why are you so happy about teaching me?" Harry said uncertainly. Tonks looked up at him from her position on the floor, where she had been picking the keys up for the fourth time, and smiled at him.

"Because it gets me out of cleaning up Grimmauld Place!" She declared happily, as if cleaning up Grimmauld Place was one of the worst forms of torture ever. "See, there's not much going on at the moment, if you know what I mean, so Dumbledore reckons we should make HQ more, what did he say, 'a more pleasant place to combat the darkness?' Something like that."

Tonks shrugged her shoulders, finally locking the last lock and standing up straight. "Don't see what the point is really, I reckon it's a waste of time. And it's so boring. Besides, they'll never get that picture of that mad old bat down. Ah well. See, all I've got to do at the moment is Order work, seeing as I'm suspended from work and all, so that's why..."

"You're suspended? Why? What for?" Harry was shocked; what could Tonks have done to get herself suspended from being an Auror? Tonks shrugged again.

"Because of what happened at the Ministry in June. You know, when we saved your arses? Well, apparently, when I realized that there were Death Eaters in the Ministry, I should have notified a Ministry security guard and called for reinforcements before charging in after you. Idiots! It's my job to go charging in, and there were no security guards there, we all got down to where you were without seeing anyone. Ministry security guards my arse. Kingsley's suspended as well, and he nearly got demoted. Don't worry about it though!" Tonks said, seeing the guilty look on Harry's face. "It's not your fault, I'd have done exactly the same thing if I were you. You behaved exactly like anyone else would have done, so don't beat yourself up about it."

Harry smiled at Tonks, the guilt lessening slightly. Nobody had said that to him before, and it felt good to know that he wasn't a total idiot. However, he still felt responsible for the fiasco at the Ministry, for Sirius's death, and for the injuries that his friends, not to mention Tonks, had received. It had been a miracle that no-one else had been killed, Harry reflected.

Lupin put his hand on Harry's shoulder, effectively breaking Harry out of his melancholy thoughts. He nodded at Harry, then turned to Tonks.

"Well then Tonks, I'll leave you to it shall I? Harry, I'll be back at six o'clock to walk you back to Privet Drive, okay? Good, I'll see you then, and Tonks, try and keep him in one piece will you?" Tonks grinned at Lupin.

"Don't worry Remy, Harry'll be fine with his new teacher." Remus frowned at her.

"Will you stop calling me Remy?" He said irritably. Tonks smiled at him.

"Nope. Anyway, Remy, how many sessions do you reckon it'll take for Harry to get all this? I reckon he can do it in eleven or twelve, with some hard work." Remus looked like he had had a sudden brainwave, and he turned to Harry.

"Harry, you did read that timetable I gave you yesterday didn't you? Did you dispose of it afterwards?" Remus asked, looking worried.

In all truth, Harry had completely forgotten about the timetable, what with everything that had happened last night. He quickly checked his trouser pockets (he was wearing the same pair of trousers he had been wearing yesterday), and was relieved when he found the timetable folded in his back pocket. He took it out of his pocket and showed it to Remus.

"You looked like you had lost it there for a moment Harry," Remus said, clearly relieved as well. "Could you read it through now quickly, before I go? That way I can take it with me and ensure it gets destroyed. Try not to stop reading it once you start, the information will flow into your mind easier that way."

Harry nodded and unfolded the parchment, quickly reading it through, trying not to stop when he read his name. When he had finished reading it, he handed the parchment to Remus, who folded it up again and placed it in the inside pocket of his trenchcoat. Harry then asked Remus a question that he already knew the answer to, but did not want to admit.

"Why do I have to do Occlumency with Snape?"

Remus sighed, looking like he had been expecting this question. "You know why, Harry. Surely you must understand how important it is that you learn Occlumency, after what happened in June? We cannot afford for something like that to happen again." Harry nodded glumly, but then another thought came to his mind.

"But why does Snape have to teach me? He hardly taught me anything last time. Why can't someone else who knows Occlumency do it?"

Remus looked at Harry, a slight frown crossing his features. "Although you may find it hard to believe Harry, Severus is one of the most excellent Occlumens in Europe. He has been practicing Occlumency since before he finished his studies at Hogwarts, and is thus immensely trained and experienced in the art of blocking his mind. The only other wizard who could train you at the same level Severus will be teaching you is Professor Dumbledore, and you know the dangers of what could happen if he taught you. I'm sorry Harry, but there is no other alternative. Besides; maybe these lessons will help the two of you settle your differences."

Harry snorted, thinking that there was no way he and Snape could 'settle their differences'. There was too much history between the two; Snape had treated Harry like a disease from the moment he had arrived at Hogwarts, he had nearly got both Sirius and Remus kissed by Dementors in Harry's third year, had weakened Harry's mind for Voldemort last year, and played a large part in Sirius's death, taunting him and calling him a coward, which had probably helped lead to his decision to go to the Department of Mysteries to rescue Harry. There was also the memories in Snape's Pensieve that Snape knew that Harry had seen, and the fact that Snape had hated his father, James Potter, and that Harry was a living reminder of him; even if Harry somehow did overcome his hatred of Snape, Harry doubted that he could do the same to Harry. Harry turned to Remus.

"I sincerely doubt it." Remus frowned at Harry.

"Nevertheless, the lessons will still commence. When is your first one?"

"This Friday."

"Severus has given me some instructions for what you should do prior to your first lesson. Firstly, he says to tell you that you must clear your mind every night before you go to sleep, something he says he told you last year. Secondly, he says that you must select six or seven of your most painful memories and have them clear in your mind by the start of your first lesson. Thirdly, he says that you should relive and go over your experiences with the Imperius curse, and write down how you felt each time you were under it, and how you overcame it. I know this will be a lot of hard work for you, but it is essential that you learn Occlumency, preferably by the end of the summer. But I am realistic, and I believe you won't be fully functional in blocking Voldemort completely from your mind until October at the earliest. Still, I may be wrong and you may achieve it before you return to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded, accepting his fate. Remus said goodbye again, promising to be back at six, and left. Tonks turned to Harry with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"Tough break Harry, being stuck with Snape, and in the summer, too. I don't like him either, the slimy git. Dumbledore trusts him though, and I suppose he's useful, but it doesn't mean we have to like him. Ah well," she said, a resigned expression her face.

"Right then!" Tonks said suddenly, clapping her hands her together, "let's get started on the old Concealment and Disguise then shall we?" Tonks said excitedly, moving into the living room. Harry followed. "We've got the house to ourselves today, Figgy's gone off to some pet show or something, which will make this easier, won't have to put up with her nagging us about frightening her cats, thank god."

Tonks sat down in an armchair, while Harry sat on the sofa. She leant back in the chair and steepled her hands in front of her face, looking uncharacteristically serious.

"Right then Harry, first things first. With me, you will be learning how to disguise any part of you that you wish. You'll learn spells that will disguise your real eye colour, your real hair colour, even your real skin colour. You'll also learn how to make potions along the same lines, and ways of concealing and disguising yourself that can only be achieved through potions. And, if all goes to plan, you should be able to disguise that scar by the end of the summer. Dumbledore suspects that it may be a bit of a problem though, seeing as it's a magical scar, a highly magical one at that, but I reckon we can do it, if we work hard enough.

"Now, I need to find out if you have any Metamorphmagus capabilities at all. Have you ever changed your body in any way, without meaning to? Say, made your arm ten feet long, or grown your hair to your ankles overnight?"

Harry thought about this, searching through his mind. Then something Tonks had said jogged him.

"Did you say that growing your hair very quickly counts?" He said. Tonks smiled at him.

"Go on."

"Well, when I was young, before I found out I was a wizard, every time I got my hair cut, it always grew back straight away. You know; as soon as I got back from the barber's, it was exactly the same as it had been before. Once, my aunt cut my hair really short, and I hated it. She used kitchen scissors, and cut it really short but left the fringe, to hide my scar. I looked like an idiot, and was dreading being laughed at at school the next day. Anyway, when I got up in the morning, it was exactly the same as it had been before my aunt had cut it. Does that mean I can be a Metamorphmagus as well?" Harry said, looking hopefully over at Tonks.

Tonks appeared to be in deep thought. "Well," she said, after a (for Harry) agonizing minute's silence, "you may have some ability, but I'm not certain you are a complete Metamorphmagus. Apart from your hair, have you ever changed any other part of you, like a part of your face, or any major limbs, like an arm or a leg?"

Harry racked his mind, trying to think of a time that he had done this. However, he could not find one, and shook his head glumly at Tonks. She was looking at him interestedly.

"Harry, I reckon you're a natural-born level one Metamorphmagus. If you were a fully-fledged one, like me, your abilities would have shown by now. What this means is that with practice, you'll be able to alter your body with your mind in some minor ways, such as growing your hair, and your toe and fingernails. Not much really. You'll probably be able to shave using it as well. For the rest though, you'll have to learn the spells and use the potions like everyone else. Still, it's a one-up on a lot of people," Tonks said consolingly, seeing the disappointment in Harry's face. Harry grimaced.

"Suppose so." Tonks smiled at him.

"Forget about it. Now, have you ever had any experience with any type of disguising or concealing magic in the past? Anything at all."

"Umm, a few things in Potions, like the Shrinking potion, but nothing that ever got used on me. Except. . . " Harry trailed off. Could he tell Tonks about the Polyjuice Potion? He wondered. After all, she was an Auror, and did work for the Ministry. . .

Tonks was looking at him expectantly. "Well?" She said, clearly looking forward to hearing something juicy. Harry squirmed, but then reasoned with himself that Tonks was in the Order, and was trustworthy. He looked her in the eye and said clearly, "in my second year, I used Polyjuice Potion."

Tonks sat there for a while, staring stupidly at Harry. After a while she shook herself, and grinned broadly at Harry.

"No way! Polyjuice Potion? Really? Wow! Why, what for? You made that in your second year? That's really hard to make, are you lying to me? You're having me on, aren't you? You're not? Oh that's so cool, you have to tell me how you did it, and why you did it, oh go on Harry, you have to tell me! I'm your teacher, you have to do what I say, go on. . ."

Harry laughed, greatly relieved that Tonks was more impressed by his confession, rather than thinking he was stupid for doing something so dangerous. He told her the story of how and why they had made it, having to stop several times while she made awed noises. Ten minutes later, he had finished, and Tonks had shook her head, telling him how amazing his story was. Harry then asked her what they were going to be doing today.

"Well," Tonks said slowly, I'm supposed to talk you through the dangers of changing your appearance with potions and spells, and what can happen if you botch the job. You don't need to know any of that rubbish, all you need to know is that you should be very careful with these spells and potions. We can talk it through if you want though, if you actually want to go over the scientific side of concealing spells and potions?" Tonks said, grinning.

Harry quickly shook his head. "It's allright." Tonks continued to grin.

"Didn't think so. Nah, we won't be doing that. Instead, we can work on your Metamorphmagus abilities, now we know you've got some. Right, first I'm going to show you how to grow your nails really quickly. . . ."

* * * * * * * *

"Well, that wasn't so bad was it?" Tonks said eight hours later, looking at Harry across the kitchen table with a mischievous glint in her eye. Harry scowled at her. She knew full well he was absolutely exhausted.

He and Tonks had spent all day experimenting with Harry's Metamorphmagus abilities, and Harry had found it much more tiring than he had liked. So far, he had been able to grow his hair down to just past his shoulders, but had not managed to get it any further. He also had succeeded in growing his fingernails, but could not control it yet, and had had a brief scare when he had grown one of them to four feet and one of Mrs Figg's cats had started trying to jump up onto it. Tonks had banished the cat out of the room, making Harry thank god that Mrs Figg was not at home to see that; he doubted she would ever let Tonks in her house again.

Surprisingly, the hair and fingernail growing had been much harder than he had expected. Harry had assumed that it was a simple case of learning the proper technique of how to do it, seeing as he had been able to grow his hair out before, but it had required a great deal of concentration and will power that he had not anticipated. It had sapped a lot of his energy, even more so than the curses he had performed with Remus the day before, and had given him a throbbing headache that was bothering him now. Tonks had announced that he had had enough for one day, and now they were both enjoying a late lunch (at four o'clock) of spaghetti and toast.

"Bo den, Harry," Tonks said, her mouth full of spaghetti. With a great gulp she swallowed it, and carried on. "How do you think you did today? Reckon you did allright?"

Harry did not have the energy to talk, so he merely nodded his head slightly. Tonks laughed.

"It'll get easier the more you practice, trust me. We should have most of this down by the end of the third lesson, and then you can start learning the potions used to conceal and disguise. We'll go on to the spells last, as they're going to take the longest. I've got a feeling that scar of yours is going to be a bit of a problem though. Who've you got tomorrow then?" Tonks said curiously, taking a bite of toast.

Harry thought about it, and remembered quickly. "I've got Physical Combat, with someone called Thomas Anderson." Harry racked his mind, but could not remember ever hearing the name before. There were a few names on his timetable that he had not heard before; as well as Physical Combat with Thomas Anderson, he had Duelling Techniques with someone called Nate Gonzales, and a lesson on Wednesday with someone called Flynn Booth, but the timetable had not said what the lesson with him actually was.

Tonks looked puzzled for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders. "Probably just some blokes Dumbledore hired to train you. Hopefully they'll be cute." She nearly choked on her toast at Harry's scandalized expression.

"Gods Harry, lighten up will you, you're nearly sixteen for Merlin's sake! That shouldn't embarrass you, I'm sure the girls are crawling all over you at Hogwarts." This time Tonks did choke on her toast at Harry's expression, bending down and coughing uncontrollably as Harry blushed crimson. Just as Harry started to panic, she swallowed in what looked to Harry like a painful move, and straightened up.

They sat and talked in the kitchen for a while, until Mrs Figg returned at half past five from her pet show, proudly showing off her black and white cat Tufty, who had apparently come first in some competition or other. Indeed, Mrs Figg was so proud of her "little Tufty-wufty" that for the next half hour, she proceeded to tell Harry and Tonks exactly how, when, and why he had won the contest. Needless to say, both Harry and Tonks were praying for mercy after five minutes.

Their prayers were answered when at five to six Remus knocked on the front door, which caused a ten minute scramble for Harry and Tonks to open the locks on the front door. When they finally did get it open, there was nobody on the other side. Harry and Tonks looked at each other uncertainly.

"What do you think. . ." Harry began, but then stopped short when he heard familiar laughter in the kitchen. Turning around and looking into the kitchen, he saw Remus laughing at him, a cup of tea nestled in his hands. In between laughing, he managed to gasp, "there is a back door you know."

Harry and Tonks glared at him, but Harry was still too exhausted to hex him, even though he knew he could in Mrs Figg's house. Tonks did not hex him either, but seemed to have come up with a better punishment.

"Fair enough, you can go lock back up for being such an inconvenience." Remus continued to laugh, putting his tea down on the table and simply waving his wand at the door from the kitchen, causing the locks on the door to lock themselves. Harry and Tonks glared at him again.

A few seconds later though, being annoyed at Remus was the last thing on Harry's mind. An intense pain had suddenly shot through his scar, and an image had flashed through his mind quickly, too quickly for Harry to see what it was. Before he knew it, he was on the floor, with Remus, Tonks and Mrs Figg looking down at him with varying states of alarm.

"Harry, are you okay? What happened?" Remus asked frantically. He seemed to Harry to be panicking a great deal. Harry sat up slowly.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's nothing, I. . .Aaah!"

The intense pain ripped through his scar again, but this time it did not subside. Harry fell to the floor, though he was unaware of doing so. The image he had seen came unbidden again to his mind, and this time he saw what was happening, as the image slowly came into focus through the pain. . .

There was a tall, thin and black-hooded man with a white snakelike face and glowing red eyes, standing in a dark room lightened only by some green torches perched highly on the walls around him. His pitiless red eyes were focused on something on the floor in front of him, and he was pointing a strange stick of wood at it. There were people surrounding him, hooded in black and masked in white, presumably waiting for the man to do something. He did.

Lord Voldemort pointed his wand at the object in front of him, and in a high, ringing voice that echoed in the dark room, screamed,"Crucio!"

The object on the floor screamed in pain, writhing on the floor, and as it shrieked in pain, Harry realised the object was a girl, a girl who looked strangely familiar, a girl with big, bushy hair. . .

The girl turned on the floor as she writhed in pain, and her body twisted to face Harry. It was Hermione.

Harry tried to run towards her, but his feet would not move. Feeling helpless, he looked around frantically, and saw Voldemort looking right at him. His bright red eyes seemed to bore right through Harry.

"Look Potter, look at what you have done. Do you see what is happening? Your mudblood friend is being tortured, and will soon be killed, and it's all because of you! This is only happening because she is your friend!"

Harry watched Hermione, crying in pain on the floor in front of him. He tried calling out to her, but his mouth wouldn't move. He once again tried to move towards her, but again found he couldn't. He shut his eyes tightly, but it did not help, her screams seemed to be filling his mind, it was too much, too much. . .

Abruptly, the screams stopped. Harry opened his eyes and looked at her still body, but as he looked, her broken body changed, it stretched, the curves disappeared, and the bushy hair was replaced with fiery red hair. . .

Voldemort pronounced the Cruciatus Curse again, and Ron Weasley screamed in pain, crying out and writhing uncontrollably on the ground. His screams were much louder than Hermione's had been, making the whole room echo his pain. Harry looked up at Voldemort, who was laughing a high, evil laugh. His Death Eaters were laughing loudly as well. Harry was filled with a overpowering anger, and he began to shake.

"You see, Potter?" Voldemort screamed over Ron's agonized yells. "You see what the price of being your friend is? The price of being close to Harry Potter? This is what will happen, and I assure you Potter, this will happen, I will kill everyone you care about, one by one, until you have no-one left, and then I will kill you. Yes Potter, you will die, consumed with guilt, knowing that it is your fault that everyone you ever knew, everyone you ever cared about, everyone who was ever your friend, died because of you.

"Is that what you want Potter? Because that is what will happen if you continue to live. So why carry on? Why not give up? Why not just end it all? You will save lives if you do, and we all know you enjoy that." He stopped talking, taking the curse off Ron, and waited for a reaction. He got it; the Death Eaters began to laugh, and he continued.

"So why bother? I shall do you a deal, Potter. End your life. Kill yourself, and I will spare your friends, in your honour. Your continued existence will only get them killed, but your death will save their lives. I promise you Potter; I will not kill them, if you do what I want. I am a man of my word, Potter, though I may be many other things. Remember, you were born to be a hero, their hero, that is your destiny, and I am now giving you the chance to fulfill that destiny. Do you turn away from fate? Do we have a deal?"

Voldemort stared at Harry, watching him very closely. Harry merely stood there, looking down at Ron's tortured body, then at Voldemort. He repeated this motion many times. Voldemort smiled, sensing that he was near his goal, especially when Harry fell to his knees and began to shake, with what looked to Voldemort like tears. He was certainly not prepared when Harry began to laugh loudly.

"Kill myself, Voldemort?" Harry began, rising up from the floor. "Do you seriously believe that you can convince me to do that? Why can't you do it yourself? I thought you would like to kill me, you know, seeing as I've "Irked you too often", thought you'd take pleasure in it, but looks like I was wrong.".

"Do you actually expect me to believe that you will not harm my friends, if I kill myself? No Voldemort, I know you, know you more than you realise. You can't manipulate me like this, I know that it doesn't matter if I'm alive or dead, you will still kill them, unless you are stopped. And I promise you, Voldemort, you will be stopped, maybe not by me, maybe not by Dumbledore, but someone will stop you, and I will give my life to ensure that you are stopped, and killed."

Voldemort stared at him, the anger and fury in his red eyes making Harry cower backwards, despite his previous brave words. Voldemort sneered at him, keeping his anger in check long enough to hiss in a cold, hate-filled voice:

"Last mistake you'll ever make, Potter."

Voldemort raised his wand, and screamed the killing curse. Harry watched the curse come closer, telling himself that this wasn't real; it was only a vision, it was just Voldemort messing with him, it was all in his mind.. . .

The curse made contact, and Harry Potter's mind exploded. All he could see was the bright green light of the killing curse, it was filling his thoughts, his senses, it was everywhere. And then he could hear high pitched laughter, it was getting louder and louder, the green light getting brighter and brighter, he couldn't breathe, couldn't take it anymore, it was too much, too much. . . .

Harry Potter's world exploded, and his body lay still in Arabella Figg's house in Little Whinging, Surrey.