Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 13 - The Viswa Vajra

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With one hand Ron began to gather the books he'd scattered across the floor while he rubbed his head with the other; Harry helped him straighten the pile. No sooner had they finished, than Hermione walked in through the front door. Harry had to look twice.

"I thought you were in the stacks?" he asked.

"I was," she said simply, "but I needed to get new quills."

"But Moody said you shouldn't leave his sight," Ron warned.

"I'm not the one whose life's being threatened; it's you two and Ginny. Mad-Eye won't care if..."

"Where were you?" Moody's voice boomed from across the bookstore. He was clearly distressed. Hermione's voice suddenly became smaller.

"Just getting quills," she said holding a bag of feathers in her outstretched hand. Moody stomped up in front of her, staring down at it.

"Quills? From where?"

"The stationery shop across the street. I didn't go far."

Moody's face became even more concerned. He turned his head to look behind him into the stacks, then looked out the window. Clearly something was bothering him, but what it was he wouldn't say. His good eye was fixed on Hermione, its eyebrow raised. The magical eye had spun backwards.

"Finally," he said, exasperated, "Ginny has all her things. Let's get out of this place." A moment later, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley appeared from behind some shelving. A note of concern appeared on Mrs. Weasley's face. Harry saw her eyes dart from himself to Ron.

"What's the matter with you two? You're both so pale." Harry looked more closely at Ron and indeed he did look a bit peaked. He also realized his arm was still aching and a quick check with his thumb confirmed the scar was still there. Before either of them had a chance develop an explanation, Moody spoke.

"It was Malfoy, the little ferret. Tried pullin' his wand on Harry here." Mrs. Weasley gasped. "Bit too fast for him though, weren't you boy?" Moody slapped Harry on his bad shoulder making him cringe. "Tell me, what was the spell going to be?"

"Well," Harry said, somewhat encouraged by Moody's praise, "I thought I'd..."

"That's enough of that sort of talk," Mrs. Weasley cut in. "We still have loads to buy, and very little time."

The rest of the afternoon was spent purchasing all sorts of supplies. Mad-Eye had gone off with Hermione. Punishment, Harry thought, for running off without permission. He was still a bit confused about how she could have run past him and Ron in the front of the store without being seen. He found himself with the Weasley family. By the time the afternoon sun began to wane, they all had most everything they'd need for the year. Ginny had just purchased a new cauldron and all that was left was a broomstick maintenance kit for Ron.

"I've got to keep it in good shape, don't I?" he said. "We'll have a shot at winning the cup this year." He glanced at his sister and smiled. "I imagine the team will have two Weasleys, eh?"

"I won't make a very good Chaser with the broom I have, Ron," said Ginny with a frown. "I doubt I'll even be able to make the team."

They had just threaded their way through a large crowd to the front of the broomshop. The crowd had gathered at the storefront window where on display was the year's latest model. Harry had never seen a crowd like it, not even for the Firebolt; people were lining up into the street just to get a glimpse. It was too much effort to try to push their way to the window.

"Well Ron," said Mrs. Weasley, handing him some money, "run on in and get your kit. Don't dawdle." He grabbed the coins, gave his mom a wink, and ran inside. His smile simply made Ginny seem more miserable. Harry couldn't think of what to say. She was right, her broom was awful, and Chasers had to have speed.

"You've got tremendous skill," he said finally. "You're sure to make the team."

"No, Harry," Mrs. Weasley spoke up, "really, her broom is bloody awful." Both he and Ginny looked at her in surprise. She was always one to be satisfied with their financial circumstance. "So, I spoke to Arthur yesterday and," a twinkle was glinting in her eye, "he thought that an early birthday gift might be in order." Ginny gave out a tremendous squeal.

"Are you serious Mum? Really?" Mrs. Weasley nodded. Ginny wrapped her arms around her mother, kissing her face and nearly knocking her over.

"Well," she said, "your father's doing a bit better with his new position, but we won't be able to buy anything new."

"That's okay!" Ginny yelled again. "I don't mind, I was thinking..."

"I said it was a gift Ginny," her mum said, "and Ron's in to get it now. Your father was here last night and made the arrangements." Both Harry and Ginny spun around to face the shop; Ron was still inside. Suddenly, Harry had an idea. He held his hand to his stomach.

"Uh, Mrs. Weasley? It's been quite a while," he said rubbing his hand in a slow circle. "I really need to, er... you know. Can I go inside?"

"Oh, very well, but straight in and straight out, and tell Ron to hurry; tell him I just couldn't keep it a secret," she said with a bit of excitement in her own voice.

Harry had been in the broomshop every time he'd been to Diagon Alley. He ran in just as Ron was coming to the counter. He grabbed his arm, whispered in his ear and headed to the back. "It'll only take a few minutes," he called to Ron. At the rear of the shop was a large fireplace. A wizard and his son were just emerging from the ashes. In a blink of an eye, Harry was at the entryway to Grimmauld Place. There stood Lupin.

"Sorry, Remus!" he called running up the stairs. "Can't talk now!"

Lupin caught him on the way down the stairs. "What's going on, Harry?"

"You said it yourself, Remus, right? It's what we do with it that matters!"

A flash, and Harry was back in the broomshop. Ron was waiting anxiously.

"When Mad-Eye finds out he'll have a fit!" he said. Harry simply grinned. The two went to the counter, and after an exchange of some money Harry was first to emerge from the broomshop. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were sitting on a bench in the shade across the street. Ginny stood up first and ran to Harry.

"Is that it? Is that it?" she called.

"Sorry, Ginny," Harry said walking to the bench. "This one's mine; I couldn't resist."

In his hands was the greatest broom known to the Wizarding world--The Caduceus. At first Ginny just sighed looking past Harry's shoulder to see if Ron was coming. There was a commotion down the street: "Potter's got one!" someone yelled. Moments later they were surrounded by the crowd.

"Give me a look, Harry!" yelled Geoffrey Hooper, a fellow Gryffindor. "Blimey, that's beautiful. Man, I know I could fly better if I had a broom like that! My dad just wastes his money; he has no idea. Do you think I could still try out for the team, Harry? Who's the Captain this year? I heard it might be Katie; I hope not, I don't think she likes me very much."

"That's because you whine all the time," Harry thought. He really hadn't had time to admire the broom in his hands, or to think about it at all. The crowd was pressing in on him a bit too much; it was starting to get uncomfortable.

"Hey, clear out now!" a voice boomed. "Give the boy room ter breathe, why don' yeh!" It was Hagrid! Harry beamed and gave him a hug before the half-giant could say another word. "Well, now," he said patting Harry on the back, "I'm happy ter see yeh too. Wha' makes yeh so popular now?" he asked with a broad smile. "Oh my, if yeh haven' changed yer look some, Harry." He touched the side of Harry's head, his hand blocking out the sun.

"It's great to see you too, Hagrid!" said Harry warmly. Mrs. Weasley stood up and walked over to them.

"Wonderful to see you Hagrid!" she called. And then she looked squarely at Harry. "I thought you needed to use the bathroom!" she scolded, squinting one eye in his direction. Harry smiled back.

"Well, I never said..." he began, but Ginny stopped him short with another squeal.

"Is that it? Is it? It is!" Ron had emerged from the shop with a broom in his hands. Ginny finished squeezing her mother and ran to Ron. "It's perfect! It hardly looks used at all," she said at first, just looking at the broom's shaft and not paying much attention to the design

"Locked up for most of a year," Harry whispered to himself.

"Oh mum! A... a... Firebolt," she beamed, "it's fantastic!" She held the broom in her hand examining every inch. "Will we see Dad tonight?"

Mrs. Weasley seemed a bit confused. Clearly she had been expecting the Nimbus 2000 that Ron had almost purchased when Harry ran into the store, but Mr. Weasley had made the arrangements and perhaps there had been a change. Unsure, she decided not to say anything about it.

"Yes, we will," said Mrs. Weasley, a bit vexed. "I want to speak with him too."

"Well, Ron yeh jus' won' stop growin', will yeh!" Hagrid ruffled the redhead's hair. "Where's Hermione?"

"Off with Mad-Eye," Ron answered.

"Well, tell her I said hello. I'm off ter pick some things up fer school." He winked and was off.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said, adjusting her blouse, "it's been a long day. Alastor said they'd meet us back at home if we didn't get together on the street." She suddenly looked very tired. Harry saw her eyes wander off somewhere and a glance at Ron's expression showed it wasn't a happy place.

"Mrs. Weasley," he said, "how 'bout we get a bite to eat before we go. There's no reason you should have to cook tonight."

"I don't know, Harry," she said looking at the sky. "It'll be dark soon." There was the faintest hint that twilight would soon be upon them.

"Come on, Mum," Ron said putting his arm around her shoulder. "You saved a bundle on that old used thing." He shook his hand and it rang with the clang of coins. "I'll buy!" he said grinning.

A few minutes later they were all seated at a table in Dedalia's Diner. The meal was warm and filling. Ginny, against her mother's protestations, kept the Firebolt at her side during dinner. She only took her hands off of it to put another forkful in her mouth. Harry set his broom up against the wall and it soon was the center of attention as patrons walked in and out. He looked at Ginny and smiled. She had been the one bright spot in his life since leaving Privet Drive. He took a drink of butterbeer, and then remembered. He slipped his thumb up the sleeve of his shirt; the mark had gone. At least he couldn't feel it. He took a quick look down at his wrist below the table and saw nothing. That instant everything went black.

"Hello, Harry! Guess who," a gentle female's voice whispered in his right ear. Her hands, covering his eyes, were warm. He didn't need to guess, he knew.

"I'm not sure," he said playfully. "Pansy Parkinson?"

"Oh, you beast!" she said, shoving him on the shoulders. Harry turned smiling.

"Cho, it's you!" He continued to grin. He stood up from his chair and without thinking twice put his arms around her and gave her a hug. "I wish you could have been here sooner; we're just about done." Cho seemed only slightly surprised and hugged Harry in return. Then he saw, standing next to her, a reddish-blond that Harry knew only too well, Marietta Edgecombe. He could feel his temperature suddenly rising.

"Hello, Marietta," he said, forcing a smile.

"Hello Harry," she returned, but would not hold his eyes. Cho reached for Harry's head.

"I love your hair," she said. "Ooh, and a piercing too! My, my, are you turning into a rebel?" she asked with a mischievous grin. "Oh, I forgot, you already are." Her hand remained on Harry's face, and then realizing it, she quickly brought it down to her side. "Well, we were just leaving."

"How's Michael?" he asked. The words just fell out of his mouth, he didn't know why.

"Michael?" she asked back.

"Yeah, Michael Corner. I thought you two were, er..."

"Oh, that." She suddenly reddened. "Well, he was a good shoulder to cry on I guess, but I'm done crying, Harry. We have work to do, don't we? All of us?" Her eyes had a fire he'd only seen when she was on her broom in the midst of competition. "I'll see you on the train then?" she asked.

"Yeah," he mustered, "on the train." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and left. He turned to the table to see everyone smiling at him. "What?"

"Nothing," Ron said, "but something tells me she still fancies you." Harry sat back down and finished his dinner. He smiled a little to himself as he took in Ron's words. In the same moment a pang of guilt hit him for feeling that way. Well, he wasn't going to have time for anybody this year. Surely Cho would find someone else to keep her company. And with that thought firmly implanted in his mind they returned to Grimmauld Place.

They arrived home to find Hermione, Moody and Remus having dinner with Mr. Weasley, Fred and George. Ginny burst in to the kitchen and gave her father a hug.

"Oh, thank you Dad! You're the greatest, I love it!"

"Well dear, it's the least we could do. We've got to give Gryffindor a fighting chance for the cup this year, don't we?"

"Yes," said George, "you'll have to uphold the Weasley name, won't she Fred... Fred?" But Fred was staring, mouth open wide, at Ginny's new broom. George looked to see what had taken Fred's attention. "A Firebolt!" he gasped. "But Dad, you said..."

"Fred, George," Harry cut in. "can I have a word with you for a moment?"

"But Harry did you see..."

"Now, please!" he insisted. The twins rose from their seats and came over to Harry. "I have something upstairs I need to show you."

"Look, Harry," said Fred glancing back to the Firebolt, "I'm sure it's fascinating and all, but..."

"Have either of you two heard of a little something called the Caduceus?" he asked simply. George's eyes opened wide.

"You didn't, mate?"

"He did," chimed Fred.

"I love having wealthy friends."

"But," Harry began, "if you'd rather..." Snap. Fred and George disapparated before his eyes and seconds later he could hear the sounds of howling from upstairs. Behind him, Ginny was talking to her father non-stop about the specifications and capabilities of the Firebolt.

"...and did I say it could accelerate from 0-150 miles per hour in ten seconds?" Mr. Weasley was having trouble finding his bearings.

"Yes, dear, yes I believe you did," he muttered looking to his wife. "Molly, I thought..."

"Yes," she replied, "so why did you change your mind?"

"I didn't change anything," he answered. Ron stopped talking to Remus and began to walk to Harry who was still standing by the door. "Ron?" shot his father in a sharp voice.

"Really, Dad," Ron said, "we better get up there before they ruin the Caduceus." Ginny turned to Hermione to elaborate on the Firebolt's turning ability. It was Mr. Weasley who came over to Ron and Harry.

"Come on boys, lets see it together," he said with a smile, but the tone was less than jovial. They headed to the entryway, but then turned to the study. The room was dark, save for the golden magical instruments glittering in the candlelight. Harry began to examine some markings on one when Mr. Weasley took his attention. "Suppose you tell me what happened."

"Well," Ron started in his best honest voice, "Mum said to ask for the best used broom they had and the shopkeeper would understand. That's, er, that's what he gave me."

"Come on, Ron, that Firebolt's worth ten times what your mother gave you to pay for a broom. It was supposed to be a Nimbus 2000. Excellent condition, yes, but nowhere near a Firebolt. And she said you had change left over." As he said the words a look of understanding came upon his face. "Harry, where's your broom?"

"Fred and George are looking at it in my room right now," he said innocently.

"Harry Potter, you know what I mean."

"Honestly, Mr. Weasley, once I had the Caduceus, what was I going to do with an old Firebolt?"

"I should have known. I should have known." Mr. Weasley began pacing the floor. "Well, she'll have to give it back to you, that's all there is to it."

"What?" Ron yelled. "You can't... you won't."

"I can, and I will! Harry, I appreciate you wanting to give her this gift, but we can't..."

"I didn't give it to her," Harry said flatly.

"Of course you did," Mr. Weasley said dismissively.

"No, I didn't." Harry said defiantly. "I sold it to Mr. Tridman at the broomshop. I'm not saying I got top dollar for it, but it was enough that I could afford to buy the Caduceus." Harry walked over from the shelf holding the golden instruments to Arthur Weasley and looked him in the eye. "Ron is telling you the truth: He asked for the best used broom they had... it was the Firebolt." The cogs were rolling in Mr. Weasley's mind. It was Ron who began to smile first.

"Yes!" Harry heard him whisper.

"Alright then," Mr. Weasley said as he let out a sigh, "alright, I'll tell Molly what happened, but something tells me I owe you a few dinners Harry."

"It's a deal," Harry said with a grin, "as long as Mrs. Weasley's doing the cooking."

A few moments later, he and Ron were with Fred and George examining the Caduceus for the first time.

"It's spectacular, mate," said Fred. "Did you know it has twice the acceleration of the Firebolt? Special adhesive charms to keep you from being thrown off."

"Storm-repellent spells to keep you warm and dry in cold, wet weather," added George.

"And," continued Fred, "its own specialized servicing kit."

"Caduceus?" queried Ron. "What kind of name is that?"

"It's the staff that the Roman god Mercury carried with him as he zipped about," explained George. "Two serpents coiled around a winged staff. You'll be the only one at Hogwarts with one of these, Harry." Just then there was a hoot in the window. It was Hedwig.

"A post for Harry?" teased Fred. "Hmmmm, I wonder from whom it could be." Harry took the envelope and held it in his hand.

"Look guys," he said, "I'm getting tired."

"Sure you are," said George. "Ah well, let's go Fred. We've got work in the morning. Come on Ron. Ron?" Ron was sitting in the chair by Harry's bed, his face pale and his eyes closed.

"I'll kick him out in a bit," said Harry. The twins said goodbye and disapparated. Harry sat down on his bed across from Ron, turning the envelope over in his hand. Finally he looked at Ron. "You know, don't you?"

"It was raining," he whispered. "Some girl through a window... your window? She has very dark skin."

"Yes she does," Harry said staring at the envelope. "It's the most beautiful copper brown I've ever seen."

"I could tell from Fred that she likes you," Ron spoke softly. "Do you like her?"

"She's a Muggle, Ron," he said, expecting the worst.

"Haven't you figured it out yet, mate?" Ron opened his eyes. "We're friends, right? Hell Harry, more than friends. I'm closer to you than I am to Fred and George." He paused. "Well, aren't I?" Harry nodded.

"I love her, Ron. I love her and she loves me. She was with me the night of the accident. I thought... I thought I'd killed her." The picture of her lifeless body flashed before his eyes; they became damp. "I was going to leave you all behind, just to be with her." Ron stirred in his chair, but remained silent. "Then I realized I'd be putting her life in jeopardy just to keep her at my side." He fell back on his bed. "I won't hold her lifeless body in my hands, not again, not ever."

"So, who knows?" Ron asked.

"Fred and George found out. Tonks..."

"Tonks?" Ron asked.

"She was my watcher this summer," Harry said shaking his head. "And after the accident, well, your dad."

"My dad knows too? Merlin's beard, Harry, half the world knows and you wanted to keep it secret from me?"

"She's a Muggle, Ron," he repeated. "I wasn't sure what to expect."

"It's not the only thing you're hiding Harry, is it?" His voice had a slight edge to it.

"Well, Ron," Harry snapped back, "I suspect we both have our little secrets, don't we." His voice was becoming heated. Ron took to his feet, he looked torn.

"I'm... I'm not the one who nearly died and won't tell anybody about it!" he yelled.

"Aren't you?" Harry rose to his feet. They were toe-to-toe. "Aren't you?" he repeated pitching his voice to match Ron's. "Brain-boy! You may enjoy slurping other people's thoughts Ron, but you can stay out of my head!" Ron's face instantly fell.

"I don't need this," he said shoving Harry aside and leaving the room.

"I don't need it either!" Harry called after him. He dropped back to his bed. "I don't want any of it," he whispered to himself. For a moment he looked to the door. Ron was sick, and he'd used it to his advantage. "The one friend you've got, Harry," he thought, "you're a jackass." He got up to go apologize, and realized he still had the letter in his hand. He sat back down in the chair, pulling his right sleeve up. There was no mark. He slipped open the letter and took a deep breath.

Harry,

(His name had a little heart around it.)

I miss you too. Your mirror is keeping me company and so are those two other little things I've hidden away in my wonderful box. Life's been rather dull around Privet Drive. A bit of good news--Duncan's decided to stay on and finish school, even though Emma was determined to leave. He says what's good for Harry is what's good for him. I spoke with Mama this morning. I haven't told her about Hedwig, yet. I just asked your question. She seemed fascinated by the whole symbology.

Two lightning bolts crossed are most commonly linked to the Tibetan symbol for the Viswa Vajra representing that which cannot be destroyed, but destroys all evil. The snake may represent lightning as well, the flow of energy, which creates us and makes us alive. Mama calls it the divine energy, or life force in us all. She also mentioned the Khadga, a sword that first destroys ignorance to then allow enlightenment.

I'd like to think there's a life force that binds you to me Harry. The way I see it, one step closer to school, is one step closer to the end of school, and that's one step closer to me.

Be strong, Harry. I love you,

Gabriella

He folded the note and looked at his arm again. Still nothing. He closed his eyes and fancied the two of them connected by an invisible beam of energy. He saw her face before him and the twinkle in her eyes. He smiled putting the note in his pocket. Thoughts of Gabriella and the summer lightened Harry's heart. He made up his mind; Ron was right. "Time to destroy a little ignorance," he thought. He stood and climbed the stairs.

As he made his way to the upper story, he once again heard voices--hushed whispers. He knocked on Ron's door. "Ron?" he called. His knock pushed the door open. There was the familiar sound of a snap just before Harry put his head through. "Can I come..." he stopped, horror struck. Ron was sitting at the foot of his bed, his shirt off, and his back toward Harry. "My god," he whispered.

The scarring Harry had only glimpsed earlier in the day was now laid out before him. Ron made no effort to move. "You said it was getting better?" he gasped, slowly walking to Ron's bedside.

"It's been a hard day, Harry," he said with a deep breath. "Diagon Alley, and then tonight." The scars were darker and deeper than earlier in the day. The small strip running from Ron's tailbone weaved its way up his back like a twisted root, branching out from his spine into a network of tinier scars. Finally, the system made its way to the nape of his neck where it seemed to disappear into a circle the size of a galleon. "There were so many voices today."

"Does it hurt?" Harry asked, holding out his finger but resisting the temptation to touch.

"No," Ron said simply. "It must look hideous." There was a long moment of silence. Harry felt his mind being forced back to Privet Drive. Ron was trying to reach in. Unwillingly, images of the pool began to flash in his mind, and then his birthday party. Suddenly, the pain was back in his arm again. He reached for his scar and could feel the razor-thin etching lift from the surface of his skin.

"Ron!" Harry yelled. "Stay out of my head!" The images stopped, but the throbbing remained. Harry sat at Ron's left side. Ron looked down at his own hands.

"I didn't mean to..."

"I know, Ron," Harry said. "Look, this has all been my fault. I was just being a jerk; I'm sorry." Ron, looking pale and completely drained nodded, but said nothing. There was another long pause. Harry pushed his thumb under his sleeve; the scar was still there. "Ron," he said, "you were right. I am hiding something. I don't know why I didn't show you straight away." Ron turned to look at him.

Slowly, Harry pulled up the sleeve on his right arm, the fleshy underside pressed flat against his lap. For a moment he paused. He took a deep breath, and then turned the arm over.