Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 21 - Protecting the Snake

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Outside, the rain continued to pour down as Harry made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen this much rain. The conditions were miserable, and Harry had to sneer, thinking of Malfoy and what he'd have to do to return to the castle. By now, the Slytherin would be up and about in Hogsmeade. What would he try to do? Harry stopped to look down through a window to the Hogwarts grounds below. Through the glass he could see large puddles forming everywhere, and the lake burgeoning. He leaned his head against the cold glass and thought back to Dumbledore's words of forgiveness, but then quickly shoved them aside. "If they can't help her, Malfoy," he whispered, his words fogging the pane before him, "you'll join her there. I promise you that." A hand touched his shoulder.

"Hey, Harry," he whispered. "Got a minute?" Harry spun ready to fight, and found that it was only Anthony Goldstein, the Ravenclaw's eyes darting up and down the corridor. "We've made a plan if you want in." A smile broke out on his face, and for a moment Harry thought he was looking at the smirk of Lucius Malfoy.

"Plan?" Harry asked. "Really, Anthony you've got to..."

"Great!" Goldstein jumped in not listening to a word. He held Harry's arm and walked over by one of the pillars lining the corridor. "Franklin tells me that every night there's a group of Slytherins that sneak out to one of the classrooms on the second floor for a bit of dueling practice. One of them is Malfoy. But, he seems to have disappeared... somehow," he winked at Harry. "That conveniently drops their best duelist out of the group." Again his eyes shot back and forth scanning the corridor. "I've got six, maybe seven Ravenclaws. We'll be waiting for them tonight at ten. Once they're down, we're taking them into the forest and leaving them there."

"The forest!" Harry exclaimed. "You can't go in there. Do you have any idea..."

"You've been in there loads of times, Harry, and you're fine. We're just going to scare 'em a bit. A night's sleep under the trees will do 'em some good." Goldstein's face was sinister and full of malice. "They'll pay for what they did to Cho. They'll all pay!"

"Anthony, listen," Harry was searching for the words, "it wasn't all of Slytherin. It was Malfoy. You can't just assume..."

"They're all the same, Potter!" he choked. "Luna told us how you fought them off last year. I didn't believe it, not until today in class. And we know their dad's are Death Eaters. We need to get them out... eliminate every... last... ONE!" Harry saw a picture of Vernon flash before him as a bit of foam formed on the corner of Anthony's mouth. "It was a Slytherin that killed your parents, Harry. It was a Slytherin that killed your godfather. Are you in with us, or out?" Harry suddenly found his compass spinning again. The need for revenge was deep and dropping Malfoy in Hogsmeade for a walk home in the rain had not quenched his thirst. "Well?" Goldstein pressed.

"In," Harry breathed. A broad smile broke out on Goldstein's face. It was not a smile Harry shared. Then, quite suddenly, Harry's forehead split open in a searing pain. His hand shot up to his scar. It was on fire. It was the first time he'd felt like this since... since..."

"Harry? Are you okay?" Goldstein asked as Harry bent over in agony.

"What? Are you daft?" Harry yelled. "No, I'm not okay!" He was rubbing his forehead, and as quickly as it had come, the pain receded. He straightened and took a deep breath. Then looking at Goldstein with a scowl he snapped, "Well?"

"Okay... nine-thirty then," he whispered to Harry, "outside the Ravenclaw common room. If you don't show, Harry, we won't wait for you." He slapped Harry on the shoulder. "Tonight we begin to take back Hogwarts."

His head pounding, Harry made it back to common room and he began a feeble attempt at working on what homework he could. Throughout, he was wondering what might have caused the pain in his scar again. Throughout, he knew that, somewhere, something bad was about to happen, if it hadn't already. He went to put his things away as students were making their way in from the last class of the day. When he entered his room, he found Neville lying in bed, his pillow over his head. "Hey, Neville, everything okay?" he asked. Neville pulled the pillow down to reveal a smile on his face.

"Perfect," he said with an uncharacteristic grin. It was an unusual look for Neville, and an even more unusual response. Harry started to change for dinner and noticed the dragonhead in his trunk. He pulled it out and set it by his bed. "Whoa!" Neville exclaimed. "Cool! Where'd you get it?"

"A friend," Harry said simply. "For my birthday." He handed the dragonhead to Neville.

"It's a Hungarian Horntail, isn't it?" asked Neville. Harry nodded. "Look at the teeth! Does it move?"

"Nope, just a statue." He paused. "A Muggle made it." He was wondering what Neville's response would be.

"Fantastic!" he exclaimed. The acceptance seemed to warm Harry's heart which had been so cold of late. "But... a horntail? How?"

"She saw the statuette I had from the Tri-Wizard tournament." The explanation satisfied Neville, as it had Harry before, but this time the words coming from Harry's own mouth were troubling; something wasn't quite right. Still, not everything slipped passed Neville.

"She?" he asked, handing the dragonhead back. The tone in his voice was obvious and the flush of Harry's skin, and grin on his face gave Neville the answer before Harry said a word. "That makes us two for two, Harry! After Professor Sprout's N.E.W.T. today, Helen Hedera from Hufflepuff pulled me aside. She wondered if I'd like to help her pot some plants tonight."

"She's pretty, Neville," Harry winked, noticing for the first time that Neville seemed to be growing more handsome himself. "Always wears a flower in her hair, right?"

"Yeah," Neville sighed, flopping back on his bed and smiling at the ceiling. Ron and Goyle walked in. Goyle was laughing about something as he entered, but stopped abruptly when he saw Harry.

Harry set the dragonhead down next to his bed, but when he pulled his hand away his finger caught on one of the creature's sharp teeth. "Ow!" he yelped. A small red bead of blood began to prickle to the surface. Harry sucked his finger. When he looked back at its tip, the wound was gone. When he stood up, he saw that Ron had noticed, but no one else.

"Hey, Neville," Harry called. "How 'bout dinner."

"Sure!" Neville said. "I want to hear more about this girl of yours." Harry watched Ron's eyes widen a bit, but he ignored him. "See you guys at dinner," Neville said brightly.

When he and Harry sat to eat, the sky above was still dark and foreboding. The sound of rain filled the Great Hall. His heart growing lighter with the telling, Harry actually opened up about Gabriella in the broadest of terms. It was nice to share with someone else, in a small way at least. Neville seemed to be perfectly accepting.

"You know," Neville said, munching on a dinner roll, "Seamus' dad's a Muggle. You ought to ask him how his folks met." Harry nodded looking over at the Ravenclaw table. Seamus was sitting with a group of Ravenclaws, one of which was Anthony Goldstein. They were huddling together.

"How obvious can you get," thought Harry. He looked up to the head table. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention. Dumbledore was gone, and Professor Snape was actually discussing something with Hagrid. Harry walked over to the group of Ravenclaws.

"Why don't you tell the whole bloody school you're planning something," he hissed. "Break it up." Then, in a louder voice to give a reason for his visit he asked, "Seamus, can I have a word?"

"Sure, Harry!" Seamus stood up and walked over with Harry against a side wall.

"You're not in on this are you?" Harry whispered.

"Why not?" Seamus snapped back under his breath. "Goldstein says you're in. Are you?" Harry looked around the hall. He really wanted to be having the conversation Neville suggested.

"It's not safe Seamus," Harry pleaded. "Just stay out of it."

"They figure the one thing I got bein' from Gryffindor is guts, an' you wan' me teh chicken out?" It was Seamus who was turning scarlet. "I don' back down from a battle, Harry, never. Besides... she's yer girlfriend, ain't she?"

"Yes... I mean, no. It's just that...."

"Yeh better figure it out, Harry, 'cuz we're doin' it tonight, with or witho' yeh." Seamus patted Harry on the chest and walked back to the Ravenclaw table. Harry took off his glasses with one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. He was suddenly very tired, and still had Astronomy. The cluster of Ravenclaws broke up and began to leave the hall in twos.

There was a clap of thunder that shuddered through the Great Hall, and Harry walked over and said his goodbyes to Neville. He was on his way to the tower when two students burst through the front doors soaked to the bone. Through the opening he saw Dean and Ginny on the steps. He walked over for a closer look.

"Really, Ginny," said Dean smiling, water dripping down his face, "I've got to go. Astronomy will start any minute." The two kissed. The rain was splashing down on them.

"Stay," Ginny teased. "You can't see any stars tonight." Dean caught a glimpse of Harry in the doorway.

"Look," he pointed, "Harry's headed there now. If Professor Sinistra cancels, I'll be right back. I swear." They kissed again, and he pulled himself away. Together, Dean and Harry made their way to the astronomy tower, Dean's shoes squeaking at every step.

As the pair entered the tower a bit late, Professor Sinistra directed them each take a seat. "I'm afraid viewing the stars will be quite out of the question," she said. "I thought we..." and as if someone had turned off the spout, the rain stopped. Suddenly, silence filled the air, and the class gave out a small round of applause. Professor Sinistra walked out onto the parapet and looked up to the sky. "Hmm." She stroked her chin.

For the first half of class, they reviewed planetary information from last year. This year, they were to examine the major gaseous clusters and galaxies. Professor Sinistra kept walking out onto the parapet to check the sky. Finally, she said, "Yes, I think we can have a go." Each student conjured up a telescope and began to examine the stars. For quite some time they compared their charts with their observations. Dean and Harry were working side by side comparing notes and helping each other out with their charts.

"So, Dean," Harry asked, "any more trouble from Ron?" He tried to keep his voice as light as possible.

"Tell you what, Harry," Dean replied, "when Ron stops being an ass, that will be news. Believe me, I'll let you know when it happens." He took his quill and scribbled a note on his star chart. "I've been thinking about what you said though, and you're right." He looked up from his telescope to Harry. "I've got his parents on my side, right?" Harry nodded. "Ginny told Fred and George last year when we were first going out and they've been cool about it." He shook his head. "What am I doing looking for Ron's approval? I don't need it, and neither does she." His voice had been resolute throughout, but wavered at the end.

"What?" Harry asked. "Ginny said that..."

"Oh, I know what she says," Dean interrupted. "I also know what she feels, and it really hurts her that Ron's being so... so... hell I don't know." Harry could feel his blood begin to heat. If Ron was really hurting Ginny in all this, he'd do something about it, and fast.

"Well," Harry said, trying to keep it light, "I'll bet he'll turn around. You'll see."

"I hope so," Dean sighed looking back into his telescope. Harry glanced back into his own eyepiece. A bright swirling galaxy was flanked by countless stars.

"They are beautiful, aren't they?" he admired.

"Yeah, I think I'd rather draw the galaxies than study them," Dean whispered. They were almost through when the sound of a cart coming down the flagstone path to the castle broke the silence. The night was dark except for the torches burning outside the castle, and the flashes of lightning that could be seen on the horizon toward Hogsmeade. It was hard to see. A wizard stepped out with a student dressed in class robes. Harry's heart skipped; was it Malfoy?

"Ladies and gentlemen, that should be enough for tonight," Professor Sinistra called. "Put your things away. Next time bring with you a description of the ten largest galaxies in the known universe. Three scrolls should suffice." Harry conjured away his telescope and dashed down the stairs ahead of the rest. He had to see if they'd dragged the Slytherin back to the castle.

When he came around the corner into the castle entranceway, all he could see was the back of Professor Dumbledore. He was speaking to the wizard that had just arrived.

"He didn't want to come back," the wizard said. "He's a bit frightened after what happened to him." Harry's heart began to race... it was Malfoy. "But, when he woke up all he could talk about was missing classes."

"I'm sure," said Professor Dumbledore, "he can easily make up the material from the classes he's missed."

"No!" Harry yelled stepping out into the entranceway. "You can't let him back in! You can't." Dumbledore turned to face him, and when he did so Harry instantly realized his mistake. There stood James Chang, and obviously the wizard next to him was his father.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore inquired, glancing over his spectacles. "I'm afraid I don't understand." Harry was caught. He'd just given it away, all away. Dumbledore would put the pieces together in an instant.

"Potter?" Mr. Chang asked, walking over to Harry.

"Yes, father," said James. Mr. Chang walked quickly toward Harry, his arms lifted in the air, and then he wrapped them around Harry in a large embrace. Without saying a word he began to sob uncontrollably. Harry put his arms around him in return.

"Thank you my child, thank you," he heaved. "James has told us about your bravery. My daughter owes you her life." He let go of Harry and then put both hands firmly on his shoulders. "You've saved her, Harry."

"No," Harry backed, "no, I didn't. It... it was Hermione. She went and got the healer." He was starting to feel cold. To feel death. It didn't make sense.

"Not on the train, Harry," Mr. Chang continued, "in the hospital. They say she was holding on to something, not wanting to let go. When she finally came around and started asking about you, we knew. You, or the thought of you, brought her back from the dead, Harry." Mr. Chang took a deep breath and wiped his face. Then he addressed Dumbledore again. Harry was growing more nauseous by the minute. "I would like to meet this Malfoy, Professor Dumbledore. I need to know why."

"I'm afraid that's impossible at the moment, Mr. Chang," Professor Dumbledore said calmly. "Mr. Malfoy has been missing since this morning. He was involved in another altercation," Dumbledore's eyes flashed at Harry showing a mark of concern, "and was last seen on his way to my office."

"He has... run away?" James called out.

"Perhaps, young Mr. Chang," Professor Dumbledore said with a slight twinkle in his eyes, "but I think not." The wise wizard looked at Harry who was now starting to turn a bit pale. Harry knew the feeling washing over his body, but it couldn't be. "Harry, the Sorting Hat and I have decided to place Mr. Chang in Gryffindor for this term. He will rotate as the year progresses. Would you help him with his things and escort him to the common room. Find Mr. Weasley, and have him set up a bed for him."

"Yes, Headmaster," Harry said weakly, as a cold shiver ran down his spine. He walked over by the door and pulled out his wand to levitate James' trunk when the door flew open and a body smashed against his arm flinging his wand across the flagstone entranceway.

The intruder was breathing hard and was covered in mud. His clothes were in tatters and the muck was dripping from his robes onto the floor. The thing crawled on all fours toward Professor Dumbledore. Harry couldn't tell really what it was, much less who. A cold wind blew through the door.

"S-s-ss-sir," it shivered reaching for the hem of Dumbledore's robe. "D-d-Demen-Dementors!" Immediately, Dumbledore crouched down holding the person close him.

"Dementors? Where Draco?" he yelled, his voice anxious. Malfoy pulled away from Dumbledore, crawled toward Harry by the door, and pointed. He was shaking violently.

"H-Hogsmeade" he croaked. James had caught the name 'Draco' instantly. Standing behind Dumbledore now walking toward the door, the first year was pulling his wand. Mr. Chang was on the far side of the hall. Harry saw it all begin to play out, and reached for his own wand, but it was gone. He could feel the surge in his right arm again.

"Draco!" James screeched. "You've killed her!" Malfoy was either unaware he was under attack, or unable to defend himself. In an instant, Harry crouched down close to him holding Malfoy with his left arm and raising his right. "Incendio!" James screamed. A huge blast of flame erupted from his wand. Harry opened his right hand.

"Protego!" Harry called. The flame hit his hand and spread out over him and Malfoy. It was as if they were surrounded in a glass cocoon. The spreading fire was warm, but it didn't burn. A moment later the flames were out. Mr. Chang had taken his son's wand and was holding him around the chest. Dumbledore strode to the door and looked back at Malfoy.

"How many Draco?" But Malfoy just sat shivering, unable to speak. Dumbledore strode to a painting of a wizard in the hallway. "Everard," he said, "sound the alarm. Get as many as you can to Hogsmeade, but make sure the rearguard remains in place." By this time a group of students had begun to gather around; Hermione was among them. Dumbledore's voice took command of the situation.

"Ms. Granger, see that James is escorted into the Gryffindor common room. Mr. Potter, find some others and carry Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing. Don't use magic, not in his state. Mr. Chang, I believe we have some work to do?" Mr. Chang who was staring at what he'd just seen, handed his son's wand to Hermione and drew his own, a moment later both he and Professor Dumbledore were flying the carriage toward Hogsmeade.

Hermione walked up to Harry. "What happened?" she asked.

"Look out!" Harry called. James, free of his father, shoved Hermione, and started pounding on Malfoy. "Get him out of here!" Then Harry called to those gathered. "Dementors are attacking Hogsmeade. Alert your Heads of House! Everyone to their rooms!" When he caught sight of Dean in the hall, he called, "Dean! Do you have any more chocolate?"

"Sure, Harry." Dean walked over and gave Harry a bar. Harry ripped it open and handed it to Malfoy.

"Eat it Malfoy," he said, but Malfoy glared defiantly at him shivering. "Eat the damn chocolate!" Grudgingly, he took a bite, and the shivering began to calm. He took another. "Dean, can you give me a hand? I can't carry him myself." Earlier, there had been three or four Slytherins in the entranceway, but when they'd heard Dementors they had vanished. "There's loyalty for you," Harry thought. "Accio wand!" he called, and his wand flew back in his hand. Dean shot him a glance.

The two Gryffindors lifted Malfoy onto his feet. He was barely able to walk and was still shaking. How he made it from Hogsmeade was a miracle. They were about halfway to the hospital when Dean noticed. The left side of Malfoy's face was exposed, covered in mud, but the scar was clearly visible.

"Oh, my," Dean gasped. Malfoy either didn't notice, or didn't care. For a while, Dean just stood examining it as they continued down the corridor. And then, in a voice of pure admiration, he said, "Harry, Ginny said this was your handiwork. Did you do it?" Harry took a second to figure out what Dean was talking about. He wasn't feeling well, and it was hard trudging Malfoy down the hall. Harry was starting to think Malfoy wasn't walking on purpose.

"Yeah, I did it," he huffed stopping to look at the staircase they needed to climb.

"It's bloody exquisite!" Dean breathed. Suddenly, as if broken from a trance, Malfoy realized they were talking about the scar on his face. He pushed Dean away.

"Get away from me you filthy mudblood!" he croaked. But the second he tossed Dean off, he lost complete support and crumpled down to the floor. He tried crawling on all fours up the stairs. "I..." he gasped, "... can get there... myself." They watched him climb about six steps and then collapse. Harry knew what it was to feel the Dementors drain you of your happiness. Malfoy had laughed at Harry's vulnerability during their third year. He wondered what had changed to make Malfoy so overcome.

"Your father?" breathed Harry.

"Stay away from me!" Malfoy screamed, but the voice was week and shaky. Harry wondered what it would be like to have first known, then lost his own father, even to prison. Had the Dementors found this new weakness in Malfoy? Harry bent low to one knee.

"Draco let us help. We'll just take you to the hospital wing and be out of your hair." Malfoy looked ready to spit in Harry's face. "You have my word." Malfoy looked into Harry's eyes. The blonde's gray eyes were bright against the dark brown mud caking his face. For a second, he knit his eyebrows, the fire still burning with hatred. Then, the fire left, and an expression Harry had never seen cross Malfoy's face appeared. Malfoy nodded his head, and fell back on the steps.

Harry reached down and took one arm and Dean took the other. The going was slow, and Harry wondered why Professor Dumbledore told them not to use magic. Dean broke the silence of the journey just before they were at the doors to the hospital wing.

"Malfoy, I know you hate it, but it's... well fantastic! I'd swear it was Tibetan. And how Potter put it on your face when he draws like a monkey is beyond me." Malfoy remained silent. They were at the doors and about to go in when Harry held Malfoy against the wall. All three of them were now covered in mud and stained with blood. He held his face close to Malfoy's.

"I need to know. How many?" he asked. Malfoy's eyes began to float into space. He began to tremble again.

"Hundreds," he breathed. His eyes were wide. "They were like flies. I tried to outrun them, but..." He looked down at his hands. They were bleeding and raw. "Someone from the town saved my life," he whispered as tears began to fill his eyes. "He summoned a patronus, but it was too weak." The shivering was growing. "I just wanted to die... they were over me... and reached down, and..." He felt the left side of his face. "They dropped me... they... they took him." Malfoy was now shaking violently. Harry took his own sleeve and wiped the mud from Malfoy's face the best he could. The ache in his arm was gone.

"I... I'm sorry Draco," he whispered. "It's my fault." His words were heavy, but sincere. He took a deep breath and pulled Malfoy's arm around his neck. "Get the doors Dean," he said. And walking through the archway Harry Potter carried for the first time the full weight of Draco Malfoy--body and spirit.