Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Harry Potter and the Birth of a New Sun

Chapter 16 - The Burden Calls

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"He was reaching for his wand," said James, pointing at the decapitated Death Eater at Harry's feet. "He was going to kill Harry!"

"He was on his knees," snapped Hermione. "Harry had him firmly in control."

"He didn' have the... that little guy in control," countered Patrick. "I had teh take him down."

"You're just lucky he was as frightened as a molamar in water," said Anthony Goldstein with a rather haughty voice.

"Goldstein?" asked Harry in surprise as the group converged on him.

"Damn, Potter," said Goldstein, "you're a bloody mess. And I do mean bloody. Scourgify!" The splatters covering the front of Harry's face, shirt and pants vanished, though the pool on the pavement remained. "There, that's better."

"Who in Hades told Goldstein?" cried Harry.

"Actually, Potter," replied Goldstein, "I stumbled on this merry troupe as they tried to sneak out. Seemed like a good DA mission.

"Are you kidding?" snapped Harry, gazing at the aura of the man who'd be his son's father. There was a purity about it, but Harry was to inflamed to consider it. "You... you can't be here. It's too dangerous."

"Yes, I see that," said Goldstein with a rather sarcastic tone. "The question is, dangerous for whom?" Gingerly, Harry stepped out of the blood, pooling at his feet. Hermione ran over and hugged him.

"Who were they?" she asked. "Nobody's supposed to know we're here."

"That's what I thought," answered Harry. "I was trying to get an answer when James here decided to play the butcher." Harry turned to the second year. "The next time I need your help Chang, I'll ask for it." Harry sensed at once the anger building within the smaller wizard, but then it subsided almost as quickly as it came.

"I... I was just trying too hard I guess," answered James. "It was scary."

"And why are you two," Harry pointed to both James and Patrick, "here in the first place? Stumble across the troupe as well?" He shot Ron a glance and wished he could convey eyes of death.

"Patrick overheard our plans and said he'd snitch if we didn't bring 'em along," answered Ron. "It was supposed to be quiet; I didn't figure we'd run into Death Eaters."

"If that's what they were," said Harry, still holding his wand at the ready. "They acted more like hired thugs than Death Eaters."

The night air was cold and quiet. He could feel the dampness of a thin mist wrap about his face, sending shivers down his spine. For a moment he thought of Dementors, but the coolness, this chilled clamminess was something else, something more visceral. The whisperers of death were swirling; somehow Harry knew that. And not for the man that had just been slain, they were telling Harry that more would soon join the dead man at his feet. But who?

"Goldstein," Harry said suddenly, "I mean... Anthony, really you... you have to--"

"Well, we're here now," said James. "Dispatchio!" The dead wizard and the pool of blood beneath him vanished. "Let's say we get in, get the cloak and get out before anymore... er, dark wizards show up. Wouldn't want Luci--"

"Where'd you learn that spell?" queried Hermione. "That's fifth year." James shrugged his shoulders.

"My sister I guess," he said. "She's the smart one in the family."

"Yeah... I see," said Harry, noticing James' aura fade from green to red then back from red to green. For the first time, he thought James might not really be an ally. "Ron, maybe you should take--"

"James is right," interrupted Anthony. "Best if we get down into the Ministry before another dozen Death Eaters Apparate in."

"But--"

"Harry," interrupted Hermione, "let's just get downstairs. We can talk then." Harry heaved a sigh and the group squeezed into the phone booth. Ron said the password his father had told him and a silver orb appeared, scanning Ron in a sickly white light. Then, with a jerk, the elevator began to plummet. Harry tried to look at Ron and suggest to the redhead that he should read Harry's mind, but his eyes were blank and Ron didn't recognize the facial expression as he once would have. Harry silently cursed his blindness.

His heart began to quicken. If the two second years were under the Imperious Curse, they were likely in Lucius Malfoy's control. He was feeling strongly like he wanted to wretch onto the polished marble floors just as the doors opened onto the resplendent entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic. The six stepped out, wands drawn.

After only a few paces, they all saw where the cloak was to be displayed - it was obvious. A large glass case had already been erected. On a pole was the torso of a mannequin and next to that a golden statue of Harry with his wand drawn. They all stepped closer. There was no cloak, but there was a plaque. It read, "This site commemorates the defeat of the Dark Wizard Voldemort by the Grand Wizard Harry Potter, Order of Merlin, First Class, who faced his foe wand-to-wand and struck him down."

"Order of Merlin?" asked Goldstein surprised. "I didn't know--"

"Neither did I," cut in Harry.

"They'll probably award it to you during the ceremony tomorrow," said Hermione brightly. Harry turned to her.

"If we do this right, there won't be any ceremony," said Harry shortly. "No Dark cloak, no return of Voldemort, no ceremony. Ron, do you have any idea where--"

There was a resonance coming from down the hall and a faint glow that was growing nearer. It sounded as if someone were humming. The group began to pull back, away from the display case; all, that is, except James. Harry went to grab his sleeve, but the boy wouldn't move.

"Is this it?" he asked, still staring at the re-enactment before him. "Is this how it happened? You struck him down? Nobody could tell me for sure, not even Gabriella." Harry held more tightly to James' robes and began to pull him bodily across the floor.

"James," Harry said, huffing between his teeth, "there are some things you can't believe. First, never believe a word Trelawney says unless she sounds like a goblin on fire whiskey. Second, never believe a word written in the Dailey Prophet, unless it's written by Luna Lovegood. And finally, never... ever believe anything the Ministry says - ever!" He continued dragging James by the back of his collar until they were hidden between two marble columns.

"Bold words, Harry," continued James passively. "But I never believed you could beat Lord Voldemort wand-to-wand. Tell me, is there still a part of the Dark Lord that courses through your veins? That could be useful, if--"

"Shhh."

All was silent, save for the occasional cracking ember from one of the fireplaces that surrounded the grand entrance hall and the humming that was growing louder by the minute. Again Harry tried to gather Ron's attention, but he was busy whispering something in Hermione's ear as they clung together behind a suit of armour opposite the Fountain of Magical Brethren. At another column just behind Harry and James, Patrick and Anthony crouched. The whispers of death were growing louder. So loud, in fact, that Harry turned to see if perhaps a ghost or something more were at his right side. Only James was there, kneeling quietly on the floor.

The light grew brighter and then the witch appeared. Harry could make out her aura, a shimmering gold, but not her features at this distance. In front of her was a cloak levitated some two feet off the ground. She was approaching the display case when James began to wriggle under Harry's hand.

"Hold still," he whispered, but the marble walls took in the sound, echoed them about, amplifying the noise such that it was audible to the witch at the display case. Harry noticed the hesitation. He expected her to turn, but she did not. Instead, she levitated the cloak onto the torso within the display case and closed the glass door. She cast a charm with her wand and then turned as if to leave. In turning, she revealed her face to the others, but Harry was still unable to recognize who the witch was. From the faint gasp from across the hall it was clear that Hermione, for one, knew who it was. The witch stepped toward the fountain and took something out of her pocket, perhaps a coin, Harry couldn't tell. In a motion that was as graceful and as cunning as any Harry had ever seen, she flipped the object into the fountain. It spun high into the air and, just as it crested in its arc, her other hand pointed her wand toward it and cast the spell.

"Immobulus!" Harry recognized the voice at once; it was Molly Weasley, Ron's mother.

Half of the light leaving her wand passed the coin cleanly and struck the witch and wizard by the suit of armour. The other half, however, glinted off the coin, reflecting toward and blasting the two wizards next to the column behind Harry. With one spell she had immobilized Ron, Hermione, Anthony and Patrick. Again, James wriggled under Harry's grasp and again Harry held him fast.

"I know you're there," Mrs. Weasley said with a voice that held no fear. "I'm afraid it's well after hours. If you're lost, I'm sure I can help you find your way. Come out from behind the column and let's see where you belong. Shall we?"

Again James pushed against the weight of Harry who was pressing him hard against the marble floor. Finally, Harry had had enough. He couldn't risk what James might do.

"Incarcerous!" he called. Ropes sprung from his wand and began to wrap themselves about James.

"Sectumsempra!" cried James, slashing the ropes with his wand and pushing Harry away. Then he pointed his wand at Mrs. Weasley. "Avada Ked--!"

"Stupefy!" she called, her spell interrupting the boy's. The red light nearly struck James who deflected it at the last moment, sending the beam into the ceiling above, showering them all with pieces of marble and splinters of walnut. This was no second year wizard.

Harry jumped to his feet and cast his own stunning spell, but again James deflected it. It was then that Molly Weasley noticed who he was.

"Harry?" she called.

"Hide, Mrs. Weasley!" he cried in return. "Hide!"

James cast a jet of red light Harry's way. Harry focused on where he needed to be--out of the beam's path. Suddenly, everything slowed and he found himself running to the right, toward the fountain, just as the bolt of red passed his left elbow. James smiled.

"Impressssive, Harry," James hissed in a much higher, colder voice, a voice that shook Harry to the core. It couldn't be. "You've learned well from the Centaurs. I did as well; although I suspect my methods of extracting the knowledge I required were somewhat different than yours." There was another bolt, green, and again Harry disappeared and reappeared into another part of the grand hall.

"Diffindo!" called Mrs. Weasley. Her spell struck James on the left shoulder, leaving a nasty slash. James spun on the witch.

"Avada Kedavra!"

This time the green light sailed toward Molly Weasley. Harry began to levitate a marble bench into the beam's path, but quickly realized the bench was too heavy and would not travel fast enough. Instead he ran, slowing time and bending the space between them tightly together. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her to the ground just as the blast past the pair, smashing into the wall behind and showering them with dust and rock. Harry landed on his back as Mrs. Weasley landed on top of him, knocking the air out of his chest.

"Harry," she said sternly as only a mother could, "what are you doing here? What's going on?"

"It... it's Voldemort," he gasped trying to find air that wasn't there. "He's... back." He wheezed, sucking in a short breath of air. "In... James." Without questioning further, Mrs. Weasley's back went rigid and she rose to face James, to face Voldemort.

"Nooo," Harry rasped, struggling to sit up, but barely able. She ignored his beckon and faced the small boy now standing only a few feet in front of her.

"Leave the boy, Voldemort," she commanded, brandishing her wand. "He can't possibly be of any use to you, now we know the truth."

"Truth?" queried James as his eyes shot toward the dark cloak still protected behind the sealed glass. Harry rose to his knees, trying to bring air back into his lungs. "The truth is that there are only two things in this room I want... and you're not one of them." His wand rose in unison with Harry's, only Harry was unable to gasp the spell.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Placing himself between Mrs. Weasley and Voldemort, Harry tried to rise up in front of the jet of green but the killing curse would win the race this time; he knew that. For her part, Molly Weasley cast a shield charm about them both, hoping to deflect the spell, but they all knew it wouldn't work. In her last instant of life her hands gripped Harry by the shoulders and she cast a glance down into his blind eyes, a glance that held love and compassion, a glance that was filled with concern not for herself but for the boy before her... a glance he couldn't see. She fell dead to the floor.

"NO!" cried Harry as he spun and cast another slashing spell against James who deflected it with ease. "You're being controlled, James! Fight back!" James only laughed.

"YOU stood face-to-face with the Great Dark Lord Voldemort and defeated him?" James mocked. "What a joke!"

With Mrs. Weasley dead, the spell she cast on the other four wizards began to wear off. Slowly, they were coming to there senses, working to regain control of their motions. James walked over to a groaning Patrick who was still prone on the floor. He grabbed Patrick's hair and pulled his head off the ground.

"This one here," called James, his voice echoing off the walls, "thinks of you as a brother, Potter. He'd sooner die than see you come to harm. Yet he's betrayed you at my every command. Shall I kill him next?"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried, but once again James deflected the spell.

"Haven't you figured it out yet, Potter? Even with the skills of the Centaurs, you're as slow as your dead parents. Nonetheless, you could be useful; the Malfoy boy suggested as much. I heard, perhaps, he's not as dead as everyone thinks." He released Patrick whose head cracked against the stone floor. But instead of striking at Harry, James held his wand to the glass display case. "Diffindo!" The blast of light struck the glass, but held firm as if swallowing the energy of the blast, the glass began to glow. For the first time, the smile on James Chang's face disappeared. "Diffindo!" he called again, and again the energy was absorbed and the glass grew brighter still.

"You've killed your only chance for opening the case," Harry sneered. "But then... I always heard that that was one of your greatest weaknesses... TOM... being stupid!"

Another blast of light shot toward Harry; it was red not green, not a killing curse. Once more, Harry slipped out of its way. This time he moved quickly around and behind James reappearing with his wand drawn.

"Stupefy!" Harry cried, sending a blast of red at James' back, but again the wizard deflected the spell as if swatting a fly and then turned back toward the display case. "You're not trying to kill me, Tom. Why not?"

"I'll kill you sssoon enough," James slithered. "First, the cloak. Then, I need to extract something of mine that you stole from me when you were a baby. Soon, I will be--" Suddenly two more spells came from beyond the fountain. Ron and Hermione had revived themselves enough to fight, but barely.

"No! Get out of here!" Harry screamed. "It's Voldemort! Run!"

"I don't have time for this," cried James, sending three more blasts of light at the glass case. On the third bolt the glass cracked, but only just. Harry could tell that the spells that James had cast over the last few minutes were draining him. He looked tired, almost vulnerable. At the same moment the fires ringing the grand hall roared to life.

"Finally," Harry whispered, "some help." Wizard after wizard appeared at each hearth, brandishing their wands. "Whatever time you thought you had has just expired, Tom."

The room erupted in red light. Seven blasts came at the small wizard by the display case. Two struck true while the others struck the glowing glass, shattering it completely. The large glass shards that scattered the floor, however, were still glowing as brightly as ever. There were more blasts of red directed at Harry.

"It's me!" he yelled. "Harry Potter!"

"Harry!" cried Hermione from the far side of the hall. "It's not the Ministry! It's--" A blast of red dropped her to the ground.

"Hermione!" cried Ron. "He cast a spell knocking the wizard by Hermione backward into the wall with a loud crack. He pointed towards another wizard and ran at him. "Leave her alone, you bloody--" There was a blast of purple and he too fell to the floor.

"We're students!" Harry yelled, but it only focused the attention of another barrage of red bolts his way. Harry cast a shield charm and sent them flying in every conceivable direction. The blasts weakened him. "Are you crazy?! We're--" And then he noticed it - the unmistakably bright emerald green aura of Draco Malfoy, stepping from the flames of one of the fireplaces. He had warned Harry and now it was too late.

Simultaneously, ropes began to swirl about Ron, Hermione, Patrick, and most importantly James who was still motionless on the floor. Somehow Anthony had managed an escape and stood at Harry's side. There were nearly a dozen Death Eaters moving in on them.

"Take the cloak, Draco," drawled a tall wizard in dark black robes with crimson lining.

"Lucius?" Harry sneered in the wizard's direction. "Is that you? I should have known by the sickening yellow colour." The wizard said nothing, trying to ignore Harry. "Now that I'm blind, you're much better looking in -- strike that. No you're not. You're still as much a pig as you always were. Still, somehow... missing an arm suits you. How'd you lose it again?" The goading worked.

"Big words for a blind boy, Potter," he snapped.

"Now, now... sticks and stones.... But then I guess six months with Dementors and dullards will curdle anyone's conversational capabilities." Harry could see that Draco was moving over the glowing glass and into the case to retrieve the robe. Harry turned to face him.

"Hey! Blonde bastard! I wouldn't go in there if I were--"

"What's this?" Draco cried out. He had come to Molly Weasley's body. The colour of his aura blanched. "I gave specific orders! Who cast a killing curse?" Harry could tell immediately that Draco was livid.

"Gather the cloak!" yelled Lucius.

"But father--"

"NOW!"

"Don't do it!" yelled Harry.

Draco moved forward toward the case. When he touched the cloak, the shattered glass that was still glowing with the energy it had absorbed exploded in a brilliant white flash. Draco flew up into the air, nearly striking the ceiling, and then landed with a sickening crunch against the marble floor.

"Draco!" cried Lucius. Goldstein took the distraction as his opportunity. His wand erupted with bright bluish light, but instead of being directed at one of the Death Eaters, it was directed toward one of the portraits hanging high on the wall of the grand hall. The portrait sparked, zapping the elderly wizard that had, so far, slept through the ruckus.

"Hey," the wizard in the portrait yelped. "No need for--"

"Get help you idiot!" yelled Goldstein. The wizard in the portrait, seeing the destruction, disappeared instantly. "It won't be long now," Goldstein muttered, staring at the empty portrait.

There was another burst of spells headed at the two wizards and together they fended them off, but Harry was growing weaker by the moment. Lucius ignored Goldstein's call for aid, he ignored the battle of wands, and he ignored the crumpled heap on the floor that was his son. Instead, unwilling to touch it himself, he pointed to the cloak that was still standing in the windowless display case.

"The cloak!" he yelled again. After some hesitation, another Death Eater approached the black cloth and grabbed it just as James, still bound by ropes, began to come to his senses. With lust-filled eyes, Lucius only half glanced at Draco, still motionless on the floor, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. Instead, he focused fully on the black robes held before him.

"Luciusss," uttered James breathlessly, "you fool."

Malfoy wrenched the cloth out of the Death Eater's hands. Quickly, he slipped it on and waited as if anticipating that something might magically happen.

"You expected, maybe, a coronation?" Harry sneered. "Perhaps a crown and trumpets as we all bow down to kiss your arse? It's a stupid piece of cloth!"

"Kill him," Malfoy drawled, pointing with his good arm toward Harry. "KILL HIM!" Harry grabbed Anthony by the arm as the bolts of green approached and in an instant they were on the other side of the resplendent hall that now appeared more like a war zone than the showpiece of the Ministry. Looking back, they saw that the spot where they once stood was nothing now but a crater. Goldstein grabbed Harry's arm.

"How did you do--"

"You are NOT going to miss the wedding," Harry snapped. He took in a deep breath, reaching out with his mind to cull any magic he could from the world around him. He let out a long, slow exhale and pointed his wand at the floor.

"Festio!" he cried, ripping dozens of marble tiles upward and sending them toward his adversaries. The Death Eaters tried to shatter the tiles with spells, but the action only served to create thousands of tiny projectiles all headed in their direction. A few cast shield charms in time, but most were struck. Above the din of screams, Harry could hear James cursing Lucius.

"Release me, you idiot! Release me now." But Malfoy, ignorant of James' true identity, ignored the boy's pleadings. He had what he came for and was beginning to walk toward his son when snaps began to fill the room. Auror after Auror was Apparating within the grand hall. In an instant, spells were flying everywhere. Blast after blast of light, cutting down wizard after wizard, witch after witch. The room was filled with utter mayhem and Harry, his shoulders slumped with weariness, moved to enter the fray. Before Harry could take a full step, Goldstein grabbed him by the shoulder.

"You're no good to anybody dead," he whispered. "We need you, Harry. Me... I'm not much more than canon fodder." And then he charged forward ahead of Harry, taking down two Death Eaters and badly slashing the wand arm of another before he too was stunned and fell to the ground. It was then that Harry noticed James. He was beginning to slip free of the bonds that held him. Lucius, on the other hand, had abandoned everyone, including his son, and was racing to the floo. A bolt of orange light struck the wall behind Harry, casting stone and dust down his back. Lucius was about ready to escape. Harry focused on where he needed to be and before Lucius had taken another step, Harry was standing in front of him, blocking the entrance to the fireplace.

"Silencio!" Harry whispered, holding his hand between the cloak's folds of black cloth and directly against Malfoy's chest. The wizard tried to cast a spell, but was mute. "Now, what with the sporty arm and all... that's what I call an improvement. You should remember to button up before you step out, Lucius. Now, take off the cloak before I blast it off." Malfoy's eyes glowed with pure hatred and he raised his wand. "Expelliarmus!" Harry whispered again and Malfoy's wand flew from his hand. There was an expression of surprise in Malfoy's eyes that made Harry smile.

"Now," continued Harry, "as I was saying, take off the--" With a sudden shove from behind, Malfoy fell forward onto Harry and they both tumbled to the floor. Harry had to blink a few times to clear the dust from his eyes. When they cleared, he found that James had freed himself and now, forgoing the use of a wand, had his hands around Malfoy's throat, squeezing... squeezing. He was in a frenzy of pure hatred and anger.

"Do you know who I am?" cried James. "Look into my eyes!"

Lucius, even Harry, saw the flame of red light in James' eyes.

"N-Not pos-sible," Lucius gasped, unable to breathe. "D-Dead." Then the full realization struck him. "I-I never knew."

"You know now," James spat between gritted teeth. "And now is sssoon enough. You're mine!" A blast of red light came from the far wall and struck James in the side, but before he released his grip on Lucius, a dark acrid smoke issued from his mouth and nostrils. To Harry, it was a stream of green evil leaving the red behind. James' grip on Lucius released and the blonde wizard gasped for air, but instead of air he sucked in nothing but smoke. Voldemort had penetrated him. Stunned, Harry saw the green surround the yellow and snuff it out. Lucius took to his feet as a blast of red struck him in the back. Nothing happened. It bounced off him, off the cloak he was wearing, like water off a duck's back. Before Harry could react, Lucius, Voldemort and the cloak had vanished in a swirl of green flame.

There were a couple more blasts, a couple more snaps, and a couple more screams of pain, but finally the room fell silent. Only the sound of rock scraping against the floor, as the remaining Aurors stepped across the debris, broke the silence.

"Minister, over here. It's your... over here, sir. Please." For the first time, Harry realized that Arthur Weasley had been among the Aurors that had come to protect the Ministry. He watched as the wizard walked toward the shattered display case, while the Auror that called him levitated a wooden beam that had fallen over Molly Weasley up and out of the way. It landed with a dull thud.

"Molly?" he uttered as if trying to gently wake someone from a deep sleep. "Molly," he said again only louder. "MOLLY!" He grabbed his wife in his arms, pulling her up out of the dust; pebbles cascaded to the floor. "Oh my god, no. No... no... no... no... NOOO!" he screamed. The grand hall rumbled, shaking mortar loose from the walls onto the floor below as Mr. Weasley buried his head into the nook of his wife's neck. He continued to heave great sobs as Harry looked down at James, prone on the floor, arms outstretched toward the hearth. The green was gone; only blue remained, but the light was weak and flickered. He was near death. The second year began to grown, slowly looking up to find Harry.

"H-Harry? H-Help... I... I can't...." And he collapsed to the floor. Harry looked around at the devastation. James was not the only one near death. Instinctively, he pulled his wand to summon the Heart of Asha, but before he could cast the spell, snap after snap began to fill the hall; Healers were appearing. In a matter of seconds nearly a dozen Healers had Apparated into the Ministry. One, an older wizard with bushy white hair, was at James' side almost instantly. Scanning the boy with his wand he turned to Harry.

"You're the Potter boy, aren't you?" Without waiting for an answer he said quickly, "Tell me, was it a stunner? Because I'm not detecting any--"

"He was possessed by Voldemort," Harry cut in. The Healer cringed, looking up at Harry with disbelief.

"Look son," he said derisively, "you shouldn't go around--"

"Damn it!" Harry screamed. "His spirit's been sundered! It probably has been all year. Voldemort just left him to take on another host. If you don't hurry, he'll die." For only a second, the Healer tried to read the expression of Harry's face. He was old enough to know what Harry meant. He remembered the old war and he didn't need to be told twice. Without saying another word, the Healer rose to his feet and a flash of tremendous purple light left his wand bathing James in its glow from head to toe.

Harry stepped back, twisting his ankle on a rock beneath his foot. He cursed. Other than the people swarming about the hall, it was difficult to make anything out. His vision was truly failing him in the rocky mess. He could see Mr. Weasley and heard his sobs, and tried to pick his way through the rubble as Auror and Healer alike seemed to pass him by as they rushed to another's aid. It was as if no one knew him, or no one cared. His emotions were sloshing back and forth. He needed to help... he needed to chase after Lucius, after Voldemort... he needed to --"

"Minister!" someone cried out. "Minister! It's your son!" Harry turned his attention on a glow that lay prone on the floor near an Auror's feet.

"My god, Percy?!" cried Mr. Weasley still reeling from the loss of his wife.

"No, sir," the Auror replied. "It's your youngest boy, Ron. He's breathing... maybe a stunner."

"That's not possible," whispered Arthur Weasley, unsure just what to do. "He's at Hogwarts." Then he noticed Harry, stumbling blindly toward him. "Harry? My god, Harry why are you--"

"He's back," said Harry weakly. He was tired and sore, and his right arm was starting to prickle with pain. "Voldemort's back."

"What?"

"A Horcrux," Harry whispered nonsensically, stumbling closer to Mr. Malfoy and rubbing his right forearm with his left hand. It itched. "There must have been more than one. We... we came for the cloak."

"Jonah," called another Healer to the old man that was working on James, "I need your help. It's the Malfoy boy. What's his name, Draco?"

"I thought he was dead?" the old man called back. The younger Healer looked down at Draco and then back up.

"Well, if he wasn't before--"

"You knew?" asked Mr. Weasley, his voice sceptical. Gently he kissed his wife's cheek and lowered her to the floor. "You knew they were coming?"

Harry was feeling dazed. He looked toward Draco, toward Arthur Weasley. His right arm was aching. He had reached Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and his heart began to sink further.

"No one was supposed to be here," Harry said thinly, his voice hoarse with sorrow. "I just wanted to destroy the cloak before... before..." Mr. Weasley rose to his feet.

"She loved you like a son!" he yelled and slapped Harry hard across the face. "AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY HER!"

The blow knocked Harry backwards and he slipped on the loose stones that scattered the floor. Rising to one elbow he could taste the blood that was dripping from his cut lip, and then he noticed his right forearm - it was glowing. A thin etch of a rune had appeared, the Viswa Vajra. Harry had always wondered when it would happen, in what manner it would manifest itself, and even though he'd never seen such a glow, he knew what it meant, and he knew he had no choice but to obey.

The Minister of Magic who had loved Harry as his own son was demanding answers, answers Harry desperately wanted to give. Draco and James lay near death, and Harry had it in his power to easily save them both. Voldemort had escaped with a new body and another piece of his soul, and Harry anxiously needed to chase after them - the Wizarding World was again at risk. Once more, death began to whisper in his ear and he began to shiver.

In spite of that, none of it mattered. He had sworn an oath; it was a burden all members of the Votary carried. He was being summoned; nothing else could take precedence. And so, clutching his wand, he focused on where he needed to be. He felt a soft touch on his shoulder and heard Hermione call his name. He looked up at her, wishing he could convey the sadness weighing on his soul.

"Harry..."

He was gone.