Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 10 - Burning Water

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As Harry sat in bed, Ron and Hermione at his side, for the first meal he'd had in over three days he didn't feel much like eating. He was expecting questions, lots of questions, but thankfully they didn't come. At first, it was as if he were eating lunch with two perfect strangers. The conversation was pleasant, the weather and recent Quidditch happenings, but no deeper. By the time his two guests had finished, Harry had only taken four or five bites. It was Hermione who could bear it no longer.

"Harry, are you okay?" It was a simple question with so many answers.

"Yeah," was all he could muster.

"I mean, I know you might not want to eat," she paused, "but maybe you'd like to talk."

"Talk about what?" he asked trying to sound as if nothing were the matter.

"Well, the accident for one thing, or why you wanted to stay with the Dursleys all summer, or your hair for that matter, and..."

"Right, mate," Ron cut her off. "We best be getting on." He was glaring at Hermione with eyes that would burn. Hermione seemed ready to burst, but just let out a deep breath.

Harry really didn't feel like talking; he didn't feel anything really. Before they had come in he had cried for a bit, but that was finished. "There's work to be done," he thought to himself. Finally he asked, "Well, you could tell me what Voldemort's up to." Predictably, Ron hissed. Hermione simply slapped him on the arm.

"Get over it, Ron," she said. She returned to her chair and spoke to Harry. "Well, nobody knows really. Some think he's retreated to the shadows now that the Ministry's on to him. He may be out gathering supporters, looking for the best time to strike. A few think that when he tried to possess you he was hurt somehow. Others think he's turned to easier prey... Muggles. The car bomb that went off in London, some say that was done by Death Eaters."

"Car bomb?" Harry exclaimed.

"Well, that's what was reported," she answered.

"Pretty slick trick, really," Ron added. "A wizard rolls a car into a building and disapparates just before BOOM! Everybody thinks he was just vaporized in the explosion."

"It's sick is what it is," Harry said flatly. "Just as sick as Wormtail's servitude... I hope he rots."

"Harry? What made you want to get an earring?" Hermione asked, trying to turn the conversation. "And your hair?"

Harry touched the lightning-bolt with the tips of his fingers. His eyes flashed toward the window. "I wish I could fly," he thought. He placed both his hands to his head and slowly combed his fingers through his hair. "I'm really tired. Maybe later." He put his head down on his pillow. Hermione made to say something, but Ron grabbed her arm for which Harry was grateful. They said goodbye and left the room.

Their last words echoed in his mind. Had he done the right thing to say goodbye to Gabriella? If Voldemort was seeking Muggle prey, what better choice than Harry's girlfriend? His arm began to ache again, a dull throbbing in his forearm. He thought back to the accident. "I wonder," he whispered. He looked down at the plate of uneaten food in front of him. He held up his right hand.

"Accio spoon," he said. Nothing happened. "Accio spoon," he said again, and again nothing happened. "What an idiot, Potter!" he yelled at himself and he made to push the tray away. But before his hand left his side, the plate on the table before him flew to the floor crashing into pieces. Not three seconds later, the door to his room flew open. It was a thin girl with a heart-shaped face and bright green hair.

"Everything okay, Harry?"

"Tonks?" Harry exclaimed, glancing quickly to her, then to the floor, then to her again.

"Last time I checked, yes." She looked the same as ever, perhaps more tan. Her black T-Shirt was emblazoned with a new band name on it, Dragon Divas. Around her neck was a pair of headphones, a wire strung to a Walkman just like Dudley's. With a wave of her wand, the floor was cleared and the plate put back on Harry's table. "Well, they'll think you were hungry anyway," she said smiling. "So, when do you get out of this place?"

"Soon, I hope."

"Do you have a ride back to the Dursley's, or would you like me to..."

"I'm not going back."

"What? What do you mean you're not going back?" She seemed quite confused about his decision.

"It was a lie," he said. "I'm not getting on with my aunt and uncle. In fact, I hate it there and I'm not going back."

"But, what about..." she stopped. "Well, I guess you can do whatever you want."

"What about what?" Harry asked. Tonks walked over to the window breathing deeply.

"It's a beautiful day today, isn't it?" she asked.

"Tell me what you mean," said Harry sharply, his temper flashing. She stood silent and then it hit him. "Was it you? Was it your job?"

"I know you hate the idea Harry, but when you're not in the house, you're more at risk. So, I asked if I could be your watcher. I could be sure you wouldn't see the same face twice. It was almost as good as being invisible." She turned to look at him. "I'm sorry," she said, managing a nervous smile. "I know it was an intrusion."

Harry was searching his mind, trying to think of when he'd seen her. He wasn't sure if he should be furious, or think she was brilliant. "Was it you... in the sporting goods shop?"

Tonks shook her head almost laughing. "No. That was my pop. There were a couple days I had to do some work for the Ministry. He sat in for me. He loves Muggle golf, that man. He was ecstatic that you worked in a sporting-goods shop. What he can't do is fly as fast as that motorcycle of yours. If something would have happened to either of you, I'd never be able to forgive myself."

"Either of us?" Harry's pitch was higher.

"Well, I was watching you all summer, Harry. I... I know about Gabriella." Harry started to speak, but she jumped in. "Look, my job was to make sure you were safe and report back to Arthur Weasley you were okay. What you did this summer is your business and my mouth is sealed." Then she smiled looking at her tanned arms and said, "I must say I did enjoy my time at the pool though."

"Then you know, you know..."

"I know you're safe enough here in St. Mungo's. I know Gabriella's safe on Privet Drive. That, Harry, is what I know. What you did behind closed doors was your own business, not mine. And it doesn't matter if those doors were to your house, a friend's house, a tire shop, or a four-door sedan." A thin smile appeared across her face. Tonks walked over and looked out the window up at the sky. "There's one thing, Harry that I don't know; do you love her?"

It fell from her mouth into Harry's lap.

"Because, if you do love her Harry, that might just cinch it, at least for me anyway."

How could he be having this conversation? He looked to the door, half hoping someone would burst in to say hello. Tonks came to his bed and held his hand. She looked down to his bandaged arm and back to his eyes. She slipped her finger across a wisp of hair hanging on his face and stroked it back to his ear.

"You changed your hair for her, didn't you?" Harry was too deep in thought to speak. "That's how it started with me, trying to please people. They'd say they wished my hair was curly, and the next morning poof! curls. Eventually, I was able to change it, because I wanted to. Soon, I was able to change much more than my hair." For a moment she stood there and stroked his hair, then held the earring in her fingers. Harry didn't move. He was trying to take it all in and it was all coming too fast. "I hope I didn't hurt you too much." She kissed him on the forehead, and turned to leave. Before she was at the door, Harry stopped her.

"Tonks, wait. I need to know."

"We'll have plenty of time to talk, you'll see, plenty of time." She started to the door and stopped again. She took off the headphones and handed her portable stereo to Harry. "Here, you may want to listen to this for a while. It sure beats the music they pipe into this place. You can hand 'em back before you head to Hogwarts. They won't work there."

"Thanks," he said, staring up at her, his mind still off balance.

"If you change your mind about going back, let me know. Let someone know. I'll find out and get you there."

When she'd left the room, Harry found his mind swirling. His head ached and he wished he could have a Pensieve to examine his thoughts one by one. Finally, he focused on clearing his mind, of letting everything drain from it. His head lay on his pillow, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. The last thought to escape was "You love her, don't you?"

He woke when the evening's dinner cart trundled in pushed by a young girl in light-blue robes. Behind her was Mrs. Weasley. She wore a broad smile, but her eyes had dark rings under them. She seemed somewhat thinner than when they'd said goodbye just a few months ago. She was carrying a large bag, and a vase of very bright-colored flowers.

"Harry!" She set the vase down on the table under the window. The sky outside was a vivid red, and the one cloud he could see flashed a brilliant gold on its rim. "Harry, how are you darling?" The young girl placed the food tray at Harry's bedside and quickly left. For a moment Harry stared out the window, then returned to the room.

"Hello," he said sitting half up on his bed.

"Here, dear, let me take care of that." She adjusted the pillows on his bed, straightened the bedclothes and, just like Tonks, took a wisp of hair from off his face. "They told me it had grown a bit. What's this?" She had seen the earring. "Well, Harry what's gotten into you this summer?" Her voice was a bit reproachful, but he could tell her heart wasn't in it.

"I don't know," he said, his eyes flashing to the window. "Just thought it'd be a good idea at the time. Bored I guess."

"Well, why don't we take it off and put it somewhere safe?" She reached toward him.

"No! Uh... no. It's okay, really." He found his hand on the earring, stroking the silver. Mrs. Weasley sat down.

"You look like you've been eating well. I guess you and the Dursleys were getting on all right." She began to open the bag. "Your clothes were a mess, I had to toss them all. Hermione helped me pick these out. You can wear them when we take you back to the Dursley's."

"Take me back?"

"I think you told Ron and Hermione earlier that you were leaving with or without your clothes. I think with is a much more prudent idea, don't you?" She smiled and Harry couldn't help but smile back. She had truly always been like a mother to him and somehow having her here made him feel a bit stronger. "The healers say you might be able to leave tomorrow morning. The bandages on your arm will have to stay on for a few more days, but you can remove them yourself. Now, all we need to do is get you back home safely."

"Home? Privet Drive?" he asked. She nodded. "I'm... I think Grimmauld Place is a better choice." He could see her eyes brighten noticeably. "I've got so many things to do before school starts. I just... can somebody pick up my things for me?"

"Certainly! I know just the two who can do it." Her face soured somewhat. "As much as I hate seeing them at that ridiculous joke shop of theirs..." she sighed, "and now they say they want to open another one!" She clucked her tongue. "We'll have your things waiting for you when you get home," she said, and this time home seemed to have a much warmer meaning. "Listen, Harry, there's two others that have been outside all day. They won't leave even though I've asked a dozen times. Are you up to it?"

Harry looked to the window to see the sky darkening. In truth, his head was feeling better. He took a deep breath and exhaled. Then, he nodded. It was time to talk.

A few minutes after Mrs. Weasley left, Ron and Hermione entered each carrying a food tray of their own. They both sat at the table with the fresh-cut flowers.

"You know, Harry," Ron sighed looking at some greenish-brown gravy, "you really should give us some credit eating this stuff with you. It's bloody brave really."

"Oh be quiet Ron," Hermione chided. "That's fortified with all kinds of nutrients. It might even put hair on your chest, wouldn't that be amazing!" Ron reddened noticeably. She turned to Harry. "You're looking better since lunch. It's amazing really. They might let you go tomorrow!" she smiled.

"Yeah, that's what Mrs. Weasley said."

"And you'll be going to the Dursley's then?" she asked in the most timid of voices.

"No. I'm going to Grimmauld Place." Saying it was like swallowing something far worse than the food before him.

"That's great, mate!" Ron garbled through a mouthful of food. "You won't recognize the old house. Mum's been working on it all summer. It practically looks cheerful. When we first got there...." Ron continued to describe the move from the Burrow to Grimmauld Place. He went into detail about the house cleaning efforts, and their first weeks at their new lodgings. Harry was relieved that he didn't need to speak. He was content to listen, to eat, and to rest. Hermione finished her meal quietly as Ron spoke. Her eyes kept darting at Harry, his hand, his hair, and his earring. She was performing an examination as only Hermione could do and Harry knew it. It wasn't until Ron started to approach the day of his vacation that her eyes started to become distracted. Finally she jumped in.

"Really Ron, you'll bore Harry to tears. He'll see the house tomorrow and that will be enough." Harry saw his chance.

"Well," he said, "I would like to hear more about your vacations." He put his head back on his pillow and waited.

Ron looked at Hermione and she at him. Finally, Hermione spoke first. "Well, my vacation, it wasn't much of anything really. Just a bit of fun with the family. They wanted to go to Germany this year. They have such wonderful pastries there. Dad loves German beer, and Mom loves the food. We had a chance to see some very old castles. I didn't tell them I saw a few ghosts. It was a nice break, but that was about it."

"You're a good liar," Harry thought, and then turning to Ron he said, "How about you, Ron?"

"Oh, uh, me? Well, uh, nothing like Hermione's. Uh, we just went up to the, uh, North Coast. Saw the whales and all. Pretty cold this time of year, really. I was glad to get back."

"You're a bad liar," Harry thought. He smiled and queried, "Cold?" Ron began to whiten. "The thermometers around here have been exploding. In fact I was watching the weather report the other day and..." he stopped himself. He knew where this would go and he didn't want to go there. Not now, anyway. "Well, I hope you enjoyed the whales." Ron nodded taking in a spoonful of green gravy just to avoid having to speak.

"You look like you've gotten some sun," Hermione said brightly. "At least you've been out of the house this summer?"

"Yes, I've been doing a bit of swimming at the local pool. I met a few friends and I guess that's what led to getting this." He touched his ear and thought of Emma and Duncan. What would Duncan do when Harry wouldn't return to Little Whinging? Would he stay to finish school, or head to South Benton without Harry? Next summer, if there were one, wouldn't be the same... in many ways. "I had a job working in a sporting-goods store."

"Oh wow!" she exclaimed. "That's wonderful. Was it fun? Did you sell anything in particular?"

"We sold all sorts of sporting goods... footballs, golf supplies, ski poles. A pal of mine and I were actually thinking of starting our own store."

"To do what?" Ron asked.

"Sell sporting-goods," Harry replied quietly. Sitting in St. Mungo's the idea seemed so absurd; as absurd as talking about flying broomsticks would be while sitting in Belton's eating fish and chips.

"You're not serious? I mean, you wouldn't, right?"

"I was ready to this morning. I'm still ready, really." His eyes assessed the four corners above Ron's head. Stars were beginning to sparkle through. "Her window will be open," he thought. Would she be writing by candlelight when Hedwig arrives?

"But you couldn't. You, you're..."

"What am I Ron?" Harry spat. Then turning to Hermione he asked, "Do you know? What am I?" Deep from somewhere, hidden, the rage began to fill him again. He stood up, wavering and then walked, his legs still unsteady, to a mirror hanging over a basin of water.

"Harry," Hermione said, "please lay down." She tried to hold his arm, but he tore it away. He stared at himself for some time.

"What is Harry Potter?" he bellowed looking in the mirror. "Let's see. There he is! Harry Potter, the kid with the scar on his forehead. Did you know he talks to snakes? Pratty glory seeker if you ask me. His parents were killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sad isn't it? I hear he's in league with the Dark Lord himself. Oh, no. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wants him dead, so we must watch out for him--keep him safe. He's our only hope, but don't get too close, you may wind up dead yourself." He could feel the anger ringing in his ears.

"Voldemort will stop at nothing to see him turned to ashes. Do you know why?" He spun to Ron and Hermione and yelled, "Do you?" They were both standing, eyes wide, and mouths open. It wasn't an expression he was expecting; they looked scared. Then he noticed they weren't looking at him, but past him. He turned around to see the basin of water. It had risen a few inches off the counter and it was boiling. Steam was rising from its surface. The instant Harry realized what was happening, it fell, splashing hot water into the air. The burning liquid sprayed onto his legs.

"Ayyy!" he yelled.

Hermione grabbed a towel. "Here, Harry." He took the towel quickly dabbed his legs. Red welts were springing up all over. "Stay here, I'll get a healer." She ran and left the room.

Ron grabbed Harry by the shoulders. His voice was shaky. "Over here, Harry. Can you sit?" Harry nodded and sat back on his bed. For a moment he stood there, silent, next to Harry, and then, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder, he spoke again. "I'll tell you who Harry Potter is. He's the best mate anyone could ever have. I'm guessing there's a few Muggles who found that out this summer." He looked him square in the face. "It's all you've ever been to me, Harry."

Harry thought about how Ron had always endured his celebrity. Was it worse to always be in the shadow? He let out a deep breath and whatever anger he was feeling vanished. They'd never really kept secrets from each other, not many anyway. If he was going to tell anybody, Ron should know. He couldn't stand the thought of there being an invisible wall between them that only the two could see. "Listen, Ron," he said, "I need to tell you..."

"No, mate. I need to tell you. We've never kept secrets from each other and I can't now. It's just that..." Hermione burst into the room with the healer.

"It's his legs," she panted. "They're burned."

"Let me see, let me see." The healer examined his legs. "How on earth?" she gasped. Then she raised her wand. A blue-green glow emerged bathing Harry's legs. It felt cold. The blisters began to fade and then disappeared. "There's a change of gowns in the closet there. Get out of these wet ones." Harry walked over to the closet and without thinking took off his gown to grab another.

Hermione let out an "Oh!" covered her eyes and turned to face away asking the healer what the spell was she used. Harry put on a new gown and walked back to bed. He suddenly felt very tired again and his head was pounding.

"Where in the name of Merlin did you get boiling-hot water?" the Healer asked. "There's nothing here that..." Harry, fell to one knee at his bedside.

"My... my head. It's starting to hurt again." Quickly she helped him to bed. "Try to relax; I'll get your potion." As she left the room, Hermione came to his bedside.

"Harry, are you okay?" He sat up in bed and glanced at the door.

"Yeah, I just needed to get her out of here. I'm tired of questions." He put his head back on his pillow. It did ache. "I hate questions."

Again Hermione's voice became somewhat smaller. "You do know, the water, that's... that's..."

"Not normal?" Harry helped. "Surprise!" The sarcasm in his voice was thick. "Harry's not normal. He talks to snakes, he sees through the mind of Voldemort, and now..."

"... now he does magic, serious magic, without a wand," she finished his sentence with a whisper. Ron stood silently. "How long Harry?" she asked. For a moment he stared into space, and then he told her. He told her about the glass at the zoo, the Dementors last year and being able to light his wand without touching it. Without mentioning Gabriella, he told her about the shattered mirror, and the food tray, and ended with burning water. He left out that he almost killed a police officer. She sat down, calculating, as only Hermione could and asked, "It might be innocent enough. Have you tried without being upset or emotional?" Harry nodded.

"It doesn't work," he said. "This stays in this room, right? I don't need to become some sort of experimental test subject or something. You'll tell nobody?" It was Hermione's turn to look a little vexed.

"As if, Harry! Maybe something really has happened to your head after all."

The healer came in with a potion. "This will help your head and let you rest." He took the drink and felt the pounding recede. The lids on his eyes became very heavy.

"Listen you two," he said feeling like he'd had a mug too many of Duncan's punch. A wave of exhaustion passed over him. "You're the best, really. Tomorrow, tomorrow we can..." but he never finished the words.

The room faded to black. He was at the poolside with Gabriella. Kids everywhere were splashing, shouting and laughing. He heard "Goodnight, Harry," and felt a kiss on his forehead. She was holding his hand and smiling. The clouds in the sky were bright-white and puffed out like floating cotton candy. The door to his room closed.

He was in his room on Privet Drive petting his molamar. "All I need to do is pull the cord," he thought. "Where will you take me little molamar? Can you take two?" The molamar transformed and in his hand was a small cup of coffee. He was in the Darbinyan study, her father was pacing the room, his black eyes flashing red at Harry. "I can take care of her, Mr. Darbinyan. I'm not a criminal!" He was at the couch with Soseh, her dark brown eyes seeing through to his soul. "Yes, Mrs. Darbinyan, there's someone else; don't you see the connection? That's why I'm leaving; tell her that's why. She's safer away from me." An old man in bright-green pants was helping him to his feet as Duncan chatted with Emma at the register. "Summer?" asked Harry. "There's no summer left." The old man shook his head and turned away and Harry suddenly felt very cold.

He was in a dark room, the study at Grimmauld Place. Sirius was handing him the ebon dragonhead. His face was pale, but bore a broad smile as he said, "Resist the temptation, Harry." Then the face changed; it wasn't Sirius, it was Harry. He was looking at himself in the mirror. "Who is Harry Potter?" The room behind was dark but his face glowed white. His features began to flatten, to turn gray. His hair was receding. His eyes began to turn red, burning back at him... snakelike.

"No!" he yelled. The mirror shattered in silence.

The sound of screeching filled the air and Harry opened his eyes. It was morning and he was in St. Mungo's. Perched on the chair at his bedside was Hedwig, a letter still tied to her leg. "It didn't work," he whispered. Feeling shaky, he laid his head back on his pillow, but Hedwig pecked him on the back. Harry turned and looked again. It wasn't the same letter he'd sent. This was a regular white envelope; Gabriella's perfume filled the air and for the briefest of moments Harry forgot he was a wizard.