Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 20 - A Stunning Defense

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The sky on the false ceiling above the Great Hall was dark and threatening. Lightning flashed the room as deafening claps of thunder reverberated off the rock walls. The steady sound of rain was loud and driving. It was difficult to hear anything. When Hermione and Harry arrived, most everyone else had already finished lunch. A few students remained studying or chatting with friends. Ron was nowhere to be seen. The two of them selected an unpopulated spot at the Gryffindor table. At the end of the table, Colin Creevey seemed to be explaining a wand movement to his brother Dennis. Another clap of thunder boomed in the Great Hall. Harry looked down at the table before him.

"Is there any chance we can still get a bite to eat?" he requested. Instantly plates appeared before both of them. Roast beef and fried potatoes with crescent rolls and a small green salad. A large cup of milk for Harry, slightly warm as he liked it and an iced tea appeared before Hermione.

"Have you seen Dobby?" Hermione asked.

"Don't you have something else to ask?" Harry quickly shot back. He was in no mood to discuss house elves, even Dobby. His years with Hermione told him where they were about to go, and part of him felt that the great secret keeper seated across the table was unworthy of the secret she was about to be given.

"Well," Hermione scanned around her, "your arm?" She left the question simple and vague.

"You've seen it before, Hermione," Harry said not wanting to make this easy. He tried to guide the direction of the conversation. "But why talk about my arm? What about being able to cast spells without a wand? Have you found anything out about that?" For a moment, she sat thinking silently.

"Malfoy," she breathed, "his... his face." And then her eyes began to stare into space again. Harry simply waited; he was used to this. A minute passed and as quickly as her mind had left, it had returned. She looked at him squarely in the eyes. "Without a wand?" she asked. Her eyes were large and disbelieving.

"You healed the hand that did it," he said flatly. "Thank you by the way," he said and smiled. "Are you going to be a healer? You'd be brilliant at it you know." He was about finished with his lunch, but Hermione had barely had two bites. "Are you going to eat that roll?" he asked. Her eyes darted up and down the table again. The Creevey brothers had left.

"Can I see?" she whispered, her face full of anticipation. Harry smiled again.

"You'll be disappointed," he said. He reached for the sleeve on his right arm and lifted. The scar was gone. Hermione's face fell. "I saw it first after St. Mungo's. It appears and disappears, and I don't understand why. It appeared just now in the hospital, and when it did, it burned. It always burns," he said, rubbing his arm with his finger. "I don't know how, but I imbedded the same mark into Malfoy's face. I wanted to punish him somehow, to make him understand what it's like to be different and that's all I could think of... take my scar." Harry's face began to redden as the anger began to fill his heart. "Do you know what he's done to her?" Hermione nodded.

"Ron told me," she consoled reaching out to hold his hand. "Malfoy's nothing but poison," she spat. "Just stay away from him, Harry. He's on his way to being a Death Eater, I'm certain." Her words held a solidity about them that contained more certainty than Hermione usually gave when talking about others and they certainly made Harry feel better. For a moment they sat like that, hand in hand, then she let go of Harry's hand and stood. "We can talk more later. It's getting late. Professor Tonks will be waiting," she said with a grin. Harry stood as well. Instantly their plates disappeared and the table was clear.

They were actually a bit early to Defense Against the Dark Arts. On the way to class, Hermione had told Harry about the rarity of his ability and how his wand would still act as an amplifier to his powers. "Be very careful at how you cast spells with it," she warned him. They were laughing about how this might work as an engorgement charm against his Uncle Vernon when Ron stepped in to class. He walked to the front to sit down next to Harry, but when he did Harry stood up and walked to the back of the room.

"Harry?" Hermione asked confused. She began to walk back when Ron held her shoulder. She looked at him and he looked down. At the same time Tonks entered the classroom. Her robes were perfect, very professorial; her hair was dark and trim. She looked nothing like the Tonks Harry knew.

"Good afternoon class," she called with a light tone to her voice.

"Good afternoon Professor Tonks," they all chanted in unison. The chorus stopped her in her tracks halfway to the front of the class.

"You sound as if you've been practicing," she said, a bit put off by the response.

"We have," replied Dean. "Professor Umbridge used to..."

"Let's stop there," Tonks interrupted, "shall we?" She continued to the front of the class. Next to her stood a large suit of armor. "There are a few things we should get straight right away. First, any sentences beginning with the words 'Professor Umbridge' will lose your house 5 points. Is that understood?" The room clapped. "Second, when you enter this class you will have your wands ready. Is that understood?" The classroom cheered. "Finally, any student casting an unfriendly spell or hex on a fellow student without my explicit instruction will be removed from this N.E.W.T." Her voice was steel on this matter.

"This is not the time for petty bickering, or backstabbing squabbles. I've left the battle to be here, to teach you what you'll need to know in the days to come. Do not make me regret my choice." She took off her outer robe to reveal a tight fitting duelist vest. "There is very little time and far too much to learn. We have Mr. Potter to thank that you are more advanced than most classes entering the N.E.W.T., but I promise that I will press you further." With her wand she began moving furniture around, clearing the front of the class. "I said have your wands ready!" she barked and with a flick of her wrist Ron's hair had turned purple. There were a few laughs, but immediately everyone had their wands in hand.

"Where is Mr. Malfoy?" she asked scanning the room.

"He was sent to see Professor Dumbledore after he attacked Harry in Charms," Hermione replied.

"Good riddance," muttered Anthony Goldstein. Tonks appeared to be disturbed by the news of Mr. Malfoy's absence, but what it was she wouldn't say.

"Now," she continued, "who among you has seen You-Know-Who?" Instantly, all heads turned to Harry. "Not a very pleasant distinction Mr. Potter. Tell us, what does he look like." Harry sat frozen. "Mr. Potter, is he recognizable, any interesting features that might make him unique? Or should we all be afraid of every cloaked figure we see at night?"

"You'd know," he said.

"I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but we couldn't hear in front."

"I said," his voice rising louder and pitching higher, "you'd know." He stood. "He's re-born with help from the milk of his snake. And his face shows it. His eyes are red, the pupils slit like a snake. His face is flat and pale, his scalp thin and grotesque. Instead of a nose he has two gashes, and when he speaks the voice is itself snakelike," Harry shuddered and sat back down, "high and cold." The faces of those in the class were pale, frozen on his words.

"So Ms. Granger," Tonks broke the silence. "Would you then recognize this evil if you saw it?"

"Yes," said Hermione at once, and then after the slightest pause, "No!"

"Explain," Tonks replied.

"Well, he has other ways to spread his evil, doesn't he?" she began. The Imperius Curse for one. He can also possess people. There may be other methods we don't yet know about."

"It is this same unknown, or the fear of it, that almost destroyed us last time. No one knew whom to trust. Mothers, brothers, Professors, they were all of them suspect. The Sorting Hat explained it well. It is during such times that the greatest battle is from within." She walked back over to the suit of armor. "Still we must remain prepared. You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters have an advantage. What is it?" Hermione's hand shot up, but Tonks called on Anthony Goldstein.

"They can use the Unforgivable Curses," he said, "and we can't." There was a tone of regret in his voice.

"Oh, I don't know. Let's see. Who here has used an Unforgivable Curse?" She scanned the room, and everyone looked at her blankly. Pansy Parkinson who was sitting in the back room looked quite uncomfortable by the question. Then, suddenly, she gasped. Everyone turned. Harry had his hand ever so slightly in the air.

"A Death Eater, I believe. Wasn't it, Mr. Potter? She had just incapacitated me, and killed your uncle." Harry didn't understand why she was doing this. Every question was pointing at him. It was the one thing he didn't want. The one thing he hated more than anything else, to be the center of attention. He almost wished Malfoy was back at his side. Again he nodded.

"Tell us Mr. Potter, what was the curse?" The vision of Bellatrix Lestrange cackling at him played in his mind.

"The Cruciatus Curse," he sighed. Again the classroom murmured.

"Did you hit her squarely, Mr. Potter? Was it a good shot?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I knocked her off her feet." The classroom gasped. Even Hermione was biting her lip. Harry had never told them what happened.

"Mr. Longbottom," Tonks called. "She used the same curse on you, what did it feel like?" Neville sat trembling at the memory.

"Pain," he croaked. "Like my insides were being ripped out."

"So," she continued, "Harry Potter, having been attacked by nearly a dozen Death Eaters, having seen all his friends severely hurt or possibly dead, having seen me possibly dead, and knowing his own uncle was dead, chases a Death Eater into the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic. He casts an Unforgivable Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, on the very Death Eater he saw inflict all this pain, this death. It knocks her off her feet. And then? Did she scream like Neville describes?" Everyone was silent except Pavarti who was sniffing, tears falling down her cheeks.

"No," Harry said. Sitting at his desk, he plunged his face in his hands. "She laughed." Without missing a beat Tonks pressed on.

"Mr. Weasley," she called, "why was there no pain? Was Harry not a strong enough wizard?"

"I... I don't..." he muttered, turning red.

"Mr. Neville, is Harry not smart enough to cast the spell properly?" Neville didn't even try to answer. Hermione raised her hand. "Yes, Ms. Granger?" Hermione stood.

"It's his heart," she said, looking over at him. "Well, he cares. He could never enjoy inflicting that kind of pain. Not even on... never," she ended in a whisper and sat back down.

"Exactly!" She addressed the rest of the class. "Five points for Gryffindor! The Unforgivable Curses are worthless to those who do not enjoy scrambling people's brains, or watching people scream in agony, or savoring death. And hence, they are of no use to those whose hearts seek to restore beauty and goodness to the world." She was walking behind Harry when she paused and then strode to the front of the room.

"There are, however, many other ways to defeat the enemy," Tonks called to the class. "You've learned many spells, hexes and curses. What you haven't learned is strategy. In this class we will take what you've learned in many of your classes and find better, smarter ways to apply it to our ends. There are far better ways to destroy evil than with an Unforgivable Curse. When we find we must turn to evil to fight evil, we will have lost the war." She was pacing up and down in front of the class; the students transfixed on her every word. All except Harry, whose head was still in his hands.

"Mr. Potter," she called, "please come to the front." The hair on the back of Harry's neck began to stand up on end. He could feel his blood begin to boil.

"This will only take a moment, Mr. Potter," she coaxed. He stood defiantly, and ignoring his scowl she placed him at one end of the classroom.

"Well, Mr. Potter, you've been stunned in the back once today, let's see how you fare with a shot to the face, shall we? Wands ready!" She held her wand out straight, and Harry did likewise. "Stupefy!" she called. A shot of red light erupted from the tip of her wand.

"Protego!" The shield charm deflected the beam of light reflecting it off a bookcase, which fell over. There was a collective gasp and then the class cheered. Harry rubbed his right forearm.

"Ms. Parkinson," Tonks called. "Please come over here." Pansy, looking around the class almost as if searching for a way to escape, walked over to the suit of armor where Tonks was pointing. "Please, hand me your wand," Tonks asked. Pansy handed her the wand with a slight look of confusion. Harry stood at one end of the room, Tonks at the other. Between them stood Pansy and the armor.

"Mr. Goldstein," Tonks called again, "If I were to cast a stunning spell on Ms Parkinson, would Mr. Potter's Shield Charm work?"

"No," Anthony sniggered. "But please let one fly, Professor. Malfoy's absence made my day, but one more Slytherin gone would be like Christmas!" There were a few laughs.

"Ten Points from Ravenclaw." A handful of Ravenclaws groaned. "I will not tolerate such behavior in my classroom," Tonks said quietly. "Mr. Weasley, what will Harry do to protect his friend, Ms. Parkinson?" Ron was completely lost.

"Erm, well... er."

"Fascinating. Well, let's find out. I hope you have your thinking hat on today Mr. Potter. Wouldn't you agree Ms. Parkinson?" Pansy began to shake. The class was shocked at what they were about to see. If the next spell was anything like the last stunner sent by Tonks, Parkinson would certainly find herself in the hospital wing.

"Wands ready!" Again both wands were held high. Tonks' voice echoed in the classroom. "Stupefy!" Again red light erupted streaking straight toward Pansy.

"Locomotor Ferratus!" Harry called. In an instant, the suit of armor moved in front of Pansy taking the full brunt of the stunning spell. There was a loud gong and immediately the suit fell to pieces. Pansy, still shaking, looked down at the broken suit of armor. Her face was ghostlike. The room, including Anthony Goldstein, erupted in cheers.

"Very good, Mr. Potter," said Tonks holding back her emotions. "You see class, there are many ways to defeat your enemy. At our next lesson bring me twenty examples of how you might win a dueling battle without ever casting a spell on your opponent. Class dismissed. There was some clapping as students left their chairs to go to the next class.

Hermione walked over to Harry. "Ron and I have History next," she said.

"History? Why on earth would you want..." Hermione shot sparks into Harry's eyes. Ron was already slouching toward the door. "Oh... yeah." He said, remembering it was one of the few N.E.W.T.S. Ron was accepted in to. "Well, I've got Astronomy, but we'll be meeting at night. Maybe we can talk at dinner or after I'm done watching the cosmos." He began to walk out with her when Tonks called him back.

"Mr. Potter," she said, "a word please." She had started to reposition the furniture to the front of the class with her wand, but then sat on top of her desk. Harry walked over, his face tired. The classroom was empty except for the two of them. "Sorry Harry, but they need to know. And it wouldn't be the same coming from a Professor." Harry looked up at her.

"I can't stand it you know," he hissed, his arm still aching, "everyone staring at me. By this time tomorrow the whole school will know I used the Cruciatus Curse and failed."

"Good," said Tonks calmly. "If they believe you can't do it, which one of them will try?" Harry looked to his shoes. She reached to his chin and pulled up his head. Her touch was soft, and when his eyes met hers, he was looking back at the Tonks he knew. Her face had a warm glow and a bright smile. "Have you written her since we spoke last?" she asked letting go of his face. Harry nodded. "Good things I hope. Not just doom and gloom, oh woe is me, kind of stuff." Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Has she written back?" Tonks asked. Again Harry nodded. "And...?"

"She wants me to come home for Christmas," he replied. Harry walked over to the shattered suit of armor, waved his wand and reassembled it. "I saw her at King's Cross. Somehow she figured out I'd be there... and when."

"She's smart, Harry, very smart," Tonks said with a smile, "and not bad with martial arts either." Her smile broadened, but Harry wasn't paying much attention.

"I don't want to be here Tonks. I thought maybe... maybe I could do something to try and unite us. Last year, so many houses pulled together against Umbridge. But Slytherin..." his eyes flashed. "They're poison, every last one."

"I don't know, Harry," said Tonks, shrugging her shoulders. She walked over and stroked his hair. He was determined to be upset, but her touch softened him somehow. The ache in his arm began to recede. "Some Slytherins might surprise you."

"Never," he whispered. Tonks dropped her arm and took Harry's hand, examining it as if to see if it had been cleaned properly. She brought her eyes up to meet his.

"Harry, have you tried anything?" she whispered. "About what we spoke in the hospital?" His mind flashed to his encounters with Malfoy, and then with Ron. He shook his head no. "Well," she said, "you might try something simple. Look in the mirror sometime and try the colour of your eyes."

Her words hit his heart with a cold splash. He could feel himself turn pale. Could she tell?

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Fine," he lied. "Just a long day... stunned in the back and all." Nervously, he began to gather his things to leave. "Erm... I have your Walkman in my room; I forgot to bring it. Sorry." He was arranging the two books in his pack over and over, his voice shaking.

"Harry, don't worry about it." He began to leave. "Hey, are you sure you don't want to talk about something?" she asked, sounding concerned.

"Nope," he lied again. He wanted to talk about a million things. His heart and head were bursting with things he wanted to share. But the thought of turning into Voldemort... what would she think? Suddenly he felt very ashamed. "See you later," he said turning to leave, but as he passed through the door his face ran into a large black cloak barreling through.

"Potter, get out of my way!" spat Professor Snape. He was clearly agitated; sweat was beading on his forehead.

"Professor Snape!" greeted Tonks. "Can I ..."

"Have you seen Mr. Malfoy, Professor?" Snape interrupted. "He's been missing since lunch." The concern Harry had seen on Tonks' face earlier returned.

"No, sir, he didn't show up for class," she said. "The students said he had been to see the Headmaster."

"Students?" hissed Snape, narrowing his eyes. "Potter!" he yelled out the door. Harry had only gone a few feet, in hopes of hearing something. He walked back into the classroom hoisting an angelic quality onto his face.

"Yes Professor?" he said innocently, perhaps too innocently.

"What have you done with Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Snape shot.

"Sir," Harry replied, "the last I saw Draco was just before he stunned me in the back. Surely you've heard I was sent to the hospital wing, Professor?" There was the slightest pause, but Harry could not resist adding. "Professor Dumbledore hasn't expelled him has he?"

"Mr. Malfoy never made it to the Headmaster's office." Professor Snape's eyes were pawing over Harry looking for a chink in the armor. Finally he surrendered. "Very well, Potter." He turned and nodded to Tonks, "Professor." And with a swish of his cloak he was out the door and down the hallway. Tonks looked at Harry.

"I never did much like him as our Head of House." She was twiddling her wand in her hand.

"Snape?" Harry asked. "But... you weren't..." Tonks simply grinned at Harry. Then she nodded her head.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Harry. But I have a propensity to bend the rules a bit." She wore a sly smile. "My dad hated the idea of me being a Slytherin, but becoming an Auror pretty much solved any misconceptions he had about the house. Misconceptions most everyone here has about Slytherins... just because it was Tom Riddle's house."

"And Malfoy's, and Crabbe's, and Goyle's, and Nott's, and..."

"You can run off a list of Hogwarts Alumni who are Death Eaters, and most will be found from the great House of Slytherin," she sighed. "Their curse was their belief in the superiority of pure blood. That's how, at first, they were drawn to Voldemort. Some still believe wildly in his cause, but others have realized that their Dark Lord wants more, too much more. For those who question, unfortunately, there is no leaving his side, save through death." Harry listened, but his heart was hardened.

"Yes Harry," she continued, "Theodore, Vincent, Gregory, and Draco have fathers that are Death Eaters. That doesn't make them Death Eaters. I would have thought you, of all people, could appreciate the distinction. Merlin knows I saw enough of your Aunt and Uncle to declare you an incurable criminal!" Her face was smiling, and then her twiddling fingers dropped her wand. It hit the floor sending out a jet of sparks at Harry's feet.

Instinctively Harry lowered his right hand, palm outward. The sparks seemed to hit an invisible wall and ricocheted to the ground as he sidestepped out of the way. Tonks who had been fumbling to grab her falling wand didn't seem to notice. When she looked up at him, there was no look of surprise, simply an apology.

"Oh... sorry, Harry," she said. "I'm such a klutz." He reached down to help her pick up her wand and their hands touched again. "Your hand, it's red," she said with concern. Sure enough, his hand had turned red, but had not blistered. "Was it the sparks?" she asked. It was odd, Harry thought. For the second time they were holding hands. She was quite pretty. He realized he was as comfortable holding her hand as he would be his sister's, if he had one. He looked her in the eyes, and flashed a grin.

"It's not red," he whispered. "Look." And as she looked down, the red faded leaving a golden tan in its place. She brought her eyes up to his.

"Very good," she said with a smile. "And very sly. Have you been practicing in the mirror?" Harry shrugged.

"Not really," he said. "But I would like to talk more. Later?" Tonks reached up and touched the silver lightning-bolt in his ear.

"Anytime, Harry. Anytime." Harry turned to leave again. He was just at the door when Tonks stopped him one last time. "Harry, when I pushed the needle through your ear and the mirror shattered, everyone screamed, remember?"

"Not everyone," Harry replied. "Gabriella didn't."

"Exactly," said Tonks. She turned her back and began to finish straightening the front of the room.