Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 23 - Chosen Paths

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The anti-chamber seemed somewhat smaller than Harry had remembered. It was cool, and the only light flickered from a dozen candles floating above a small round table to one side of the room. There, were placed two small purple plates and in the center an enormous desert that looked like a mixture of whipped chocolate pudding and fudge cake, topped with cherries.

Dumbledore walked over to the fireplace. "Incendio!" he called and the logs burst into flame. Warmth and light filled the room. "A simple spell, with so much impact," he said whimsically walking toward the small table. "It's one of the first spells Wizard children learn, often camping with their parents in the woods. And yet, even you have not realized its full potential. Please, Harry, have a seat." He held out his hand for Harry to join him at the table. Harry sat down and Dumbledore began to slice into the desert with a large knife. "I find desert tastes better if you use your hands, don't you?" he said with a sparkling smile and a twinkle in his eye. Harry couldn't help but smile back. Dumbledore gave Harry a very large portion, and then he served himself spilling it over his plate. With a finger he wiped the table and licked the chocolate.

"Did Cho ever tell you her brother was a Wizard scout?" Dumbledore asked, stabbing a cherry on his plate. Harry, his mouth full, shook his head. "He's very impressive for his age. Holds more badges than any other youth in Britain. There was never any doubt he'd make it into Gryffindor," Dumbledore winked taking another bite. Suddenly he grimaced.

"Ouch!" He reached to his mouth and pulled out a cherry pit. He held it up like a diamond examining every detail. "Fascinating, don't you think Harry?"

"How so, sir?" Harry asked wiping his mouth with his napkin and wondering what in the Wizarding world would be fascinating about a cherry pit. Dumbledore looked longingly at the pea-sized seed.

"Cherries are, I'm afraid to say, one of my greatest weaknesses. They are, in my opinion, the most perfect fruit on the face of the earth." Dumbledore's face was filled with rapture. "And yet, every now and then... they bite back." He placed the pit on his plate, and stabbed another cherry holding it out on the tip of his fork. "Tell me Harry, should I stop eating cherries because a few challenge my chewing?"

"Of course not sir," said Harry smiling.

"I agree!" Dumbledore smiled back and popped the cherry in his mouth following it up with a large scoop of chocolate whipping. Harry took another bite from his own plate and then put his fork back down.

"Sir, I..." he stopped unable to find the words. Where would he begin, or should he bother saying anything? It was Dumbledore who spoke again.

"Have you been writing to Gabriella?" he asked. Harry reddened.

"Yes," Harry answered, "I'm waiting for a letter from her now." Dumbledore grinned almost mischievously.

"I hope you don't mind Harry, but the other day I had to take a look. She is quite beautiful."

"You... you've seen her?" Harry shot out. "How is she? Is she okay?" Dumbledore held his hand up.

"Easy, easy," he laughed. "I stopped in to see her the day before classes began. I understand how you might be taken with her." Dumbledore sat upright in his chair then leaned in toward Harry. "I've taken the precaution to place a few protections around her, Harry. Just in case." His face darkened somewhat. "I was busy there the night the train arrived." Harry looked down to his plate, and then up to meet Dumbledore's eyes.

"It's my fault, sir." His voice was raspy. "You wanted me to bring them together, and all I did was start a war among the houses..."

"Really? Dumbledore asked wiping some dripping cream from off his beard. "Last night I thought I saw a Gryffindor save a Slytherin's life, or at least save him from untold weeks in the hospital wing. Was I mistaken?" He looked at Harry over his half-moon spectacles. "And the way you accomplished that was most interesting." Harry subconsciously began to rub his right forearm.

"And what about Mr. Silverton?" Harry countered. "If Draco hadn't been in Hogsmeade, if I hadn't..."

"There are untold paths to every action, Harry," Dumbledore cut in. "It is impossible to predict the outcome of every one. Even the greatest seers of our time have been wrong. The difficulty always lies in staying true to our hearts. I believe this," and he tapped his finger to the side of his head, "far too often gets in the way." Dumbledore wiped his mouth, set his napkin on the table and walked over to the fireplace.

"And even when we remain true I'm afraid, the path can twist." He held his hands up warming them against the flames. "You sat with Cho, because you like her. Draco entered your carriage because he hates you. But Draco hates so much," Dumbledore shook his head, "he hates everything he doesn't understand... a poisoned mind. Cho decided to stand against him... another choice. And today... today Ravenclaws conspire to attack Slytherins in secret." Dumbledore turned to find Harry's eyes were wide and his mouth a bit slack. Dumbledore continued.

"And still, last night you chose to reveal one of the gifts you hold secret to save your very enemy. A powerful gift, I must say, I have only seen one other use in my many, many years. And a choice... a choice that promises very interesting consequences." Harry walked to the fire and stood next to Dumbledore.

"Professor," Harry whispered, "am I... am I some kind of freak?"

"You are growing up, Harry," said Dumbledore warmly. "Nothing more, nothing less. You are becoming a man, and a very fine one too if I might add." Again, Dumbledore put his arm around Harry. "As old as I am, I still learn new things. I fear the day when the morning sunrise doesn't promise a new discovery. Why, just last night I discovered a very curious thing happens when a patronus traps a Dementor against a wall." Dumbledore's eyes seemed to flash a small glint of revenge, and his mouth formed a silent "Pop!"

Harry simply stood there, and watched the flames flicker. His mind was racing through time and space trying to gather the courage to ask the one thing he most wanted. But his bravery faltered.

"Sir, can people change?" he asked, "I mean, really change, deep in their hearts?"

"You already know the answer to that Harry," answered Dumbledore. "And Dudley sleeps under your very roof."

"The remember-ball," Harry chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"As for Draco," Dumbledore shook his head, almost reading Harry's mind. "If he has any hopes of changing, it is with his father behind bars, with himself at Hogwarts, and...," he hesitated, "with you as his guide." He walked over to the table and waved his wand. The plates of desert vanished, and almost instantly the lines on his face grew deeper. "Harry, I tell you this in deepest confidence, do you understand?" Harry nodded. "If Cho does not recover, I'm afraid he'll have to join his father." Again he flicked his wand and two chintz chairs appeared. Dumbledore sat with a slight groan.

"You asked what you were doing here, Harry. Do you know the answer?" At these words Harry threw himself back into the other chair and sank deep into the cushion.

"To save humanity?" he quipped.

"No," Dumbledore said immediately. "You are here to learn. Our founders established this school so that knowledge, and even some wisdom, might be handed down from generation to generation. This is a time to discover and sharpen your skills, to deepen your understanding of Wizardry. Tools you will need in the war to come. But it is also a time to discover who you are, who you will become, and decide what difference you are willing to make in this world." Harry couldn't help but think of Soseh's words on his birthday.

The log popped throwing a red ember out on to the floor. Dumbledore swished his wand and tossed it back to the fire. "The mark on Mr. Malfoy's face," Dumbledore began. "Was it Ms. Granger who gave you the idea for the design?" Harry repositioned himself in the chair.

"No," he said. "I just... I just wanted him to know what it was like to be different, to be stared at all the time." He started to squeeze the cushion of his chair. "If I had known..."

"Yes?"

"If I had known, I'd have thrown him out the window!" Harry spat.

"And it would be you who would face the unhappy prospect of joining Lucius Malfoy at Azkaban," Dumbledore replied. "Instead, Draco is alive, and there is hope. Given the choice, it is always wisest to choose hope. Indeed, I had hoped you'd be Quidditch Captain this year." Harry's ears perked. "But, alas, Professor McGonagall said you were too prone to adventures."

"That's ridiculous!" Harry sang out.

"Exactly what I said!" Dumbledore chimed in. "You're the best flyer hands down in all of Hogwarts I said. Certainly, you have one of the best heads for the game." And without knowing what had happened, Harry plunged into an exchange of Quidditch with Professor Dumbledore that lasted twenty minutes. All thought of Dementors or Death Eaters had evaporated. The pressures of playing the hero disappeared. The conversation ended with Professor Dumbledore telling Harry that next year, he'd have the All-England Team out to see him fly. "A noble profession, Quidditch," he finished.

"That would be excellent, Professor," said Harry, grinning. "We've tryouts this weekend. I think I might want to put a few plays together for Katie, just to put the rookies through their paces."

"Wonderful, but I think you need to finish your homework first, and I've kept you far too long." Dumbledore stood and Harry followed. He waved his wand and the chairs were gone. "I understand that you want to become an Auror," he said. "Something to fall back on should Quidditch fail." They laughed together as they walked to the Great Hall.

"Harry, I was a fool last year for not telling you how I felt. This year will be different. My door is always open, do you understand?" Harry nodded smiling, and Dumbledore patted him on the back.

They left the darkened Great Hall and walked out to the front corridor. As Harry took his leave and started for the Gryffindor common room, he turned to Dumbledore.

"Professor!" he called down the corridor. Dumbledore, about to turn the corner, stopped and looked back. "The other... who could do magic without a wand... who was it?" For a moment Dumbledore hesitated turning something in his mind. Then a simple smile graced his face.

"In good time, Harry. In good time," he said, and disappeared around the corner.

That night, Harry slept in peace, and over the next few days, he studied hard, but thought more about Quidditch than his lessons. Harry ignored the fact that Goyle had somehow replaced him as Ron's best friend. He paid no attention that Neville was clearly falling in love with Helen Hedera, and she with him. Harry had stumbled on the two kissing in the botanical section of the library. And, he was quite happy when at breakfast he told Seamus and Anthony in no uncertain terms that he was 'out'. Instead, his mind was, and would stay, focused on flying.

When the day of Quidditch tryouts had arrived, the air was warm and clear, and the grass green as they walked out onto the pitch. Besides the starting four, Harry, Katie, Ron and Ginny, there were over a dozen Gryffindors ready to try their skill--and one Slytherin. There were various types of brooms. Harry noted that Geoffrey Hooper had a new Nimbus 2001, and wasn't whining too much, at least not at the moment. Jack Sloper was also there looking to make Beater again. His size had definitely improved since last year, and Harry hoped his coordination had as well.

The night before, the four starters had discussed what they were looking for in Chaser and Beater positions. Harry and Ginny had put together the strategies for the various plays they'd have the prospects work through. On the field, however, Katie took command.

After a few moments explaining the drill to everyone, she started with the first group, released the Bludgers, tossed the Quaffle, and let the Snitch free. Harry kicked off from the ground and in an instant found himself high above the stands. The sudden acceleration took him by surprise, but the flight up was as smooth as silk. He gently glided down to the end of the pitch near Ron, and even though he was still mad at him, Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Don't let 'em score on you King!" he called with a grin. Slowly, he leaned on the nose of the Caduceus and he shot like a bullet to the far end of the pitch weaving his way past a Bludger and over the head of Geoffrey Hooper. His eyes were wide, the acceleration exhilarating. He tried a few more moves bringing the broom high and then dropping it into a dive. "The Potter Pounder," he thought, because anybody foolish enough to stay with him would be pounded into the ground. Inches from the turf, he nosed the Caduceus up, his feet brushing the tips on each blade of grass.

"Potter!" Katie yelled. "Your broom is lovely. Now find the Snitch! I want the next group out on the pitch." Harry saluted, beaming, and brought the broom back up high over the field. It was as if he was flying without a broom. It reacted almost to his thoughts. Suddenly there was a glint down low behind Ron's head. Three seconds later the Snitch was in his hand, as Ron nearly fell off his broom in Harry's wake. Katie called the next set to the field.

"So, your hindness," Harry said to Ron, "did they score?" Ron straightened himself.

"Strangely, no." Ron smiled back. "It seems I anticipated their every move." Harry's eyebrows furled, but he remained silent.

The next group included Goyle. Compared to the rest of the Gryffindors he was massive. Harry pulled down close. "Remember, you're supposed to keep the Bludgers away from me, right?" Goyle just smirked.

Again Harry took the first few minutes to exercise his broom. He tried a few sudden stops and swerves. The Caduceus was incredible! Jack Sloper, trying to keep a Bludger from hitting Harry, misjudged the broom's speed and nearly dismounted Harry as he knocked the Bludger just in front of him. Harry simply smiled and looked to the blue sky. "I wish it were raining." Indeed Harry found his heart light and his mood the best it had been since being at the pool with Gabriella. When the thought of her seeped into his mind he turned his broom toward Little Whinging. He'd been expecting an owl for days, and still Hedwig had not returned.

"Potter!" Katie yelled again. "Look out!" But Harry didn't need to hear her words; some internal instinct had him already responding. He turned just in time to see a Bludger whizzing toward his head. He pulled hard and the Caduceus reacted instantly. If he'd been on his Firebolt, he'd be falling to the ground now. He looked down. The grass was at least two-hundred feet below. What was a Bludger doing this high? He looked to see Goyle below turning his broom away as if nothing had happened. Harry was at his side in an instant.

"Playing tricks are we Goyle?" Harry spat.

"I don't know what you're talking about Potter," Goyle said dismissively. He charged his broom at a Bludger that was headed toward Katie and knocked it across the pitch. For a moment, Harry watched as Katie carried the Quaffle toward Ron. She passed it to Ginny who swooped to her left, slowed and shot it over to Katie at the other ring. It was a tremendous feint and even Harry expected Ginny to try the score. Instead Katie caught the Quaffle and tossed to the ring on the left, but Ron was in position and stopped the score. Katie cursed.

"Bloody hell, Weasley!" she cried out. "That was brilliant." Harry knew why, of course, and something about it was starting to bother him.

The afternoon was waning when the final group had finished. Still, Harry was in no mood to stop. He'd had no problem catching the Snitch the first time he saw it. Six in a row with no escapes was a personal best. He'd spent much of his time looking at the moves of the candidates. Not one had been able to score on Ron. In fact, Ron was starting to gloat about it. Harry swooped over to him before he lit on solid ground.

"Ron, a word," he said and headed his broom to the other side of the pitch. Ron followed him and they hovered near the stands.

"What's up, Harry?" Ron smirked, running his fingers through his hair. "Not a bad practice, eh? 'Course you'd think someone would score." He looked down at the cluster of candidates below. Katie was saying something in a very animated way.

"Ron, you can't just use your mind to look into people's heads!" Harry snapped.

"Why not?" Ron snapped back.

"You've got to use your eyes and your understanding of the field."

"I'm doing just fine!"

"Sure, today, when the stands are empty!" Harry's voice was loud and started to echo off the other side of the pitch. The group below turned their way. "What happens when this place is filled, and every mind thinks the score's coming from a different direction? What then?"

"What? Are you worried you're going to lose your position as our savior? Don't tell me you're jealous!" Ron retorted.

"Jealous! Are you crazy!" Below, Goyle mounted his broom and was heading their way. "Have you done anything to get this under control?" Ron was silent, his face reddening. "I didn't think so. I won't have you ruin Gryffindor's chances!"

"I'm not ruining anyone's chances!" Ron spat, nosing up close to Harry.

"Everything okay, Ron?" Goyle said coming up to join the pair. Harry shot him a glance of pure fire.

"Goyle, I'll give you three seconds to get back down, or you'll be headed there the hard way!" Harry warned through gritted teeth. Goyle glanced down to the ground and pulled out his wand. Harry raised his right hand.

"Expelliarmus," Harry hissed. The wand flew out of Goyle's hand falling fifty feet below. "Move it Goyle... NOW!" Goyle's eyes were wide. He glanced to the ground, then to Harry. Finally, he turned and sped downward to gather his wand. Harry looked back at Ron.

"What? Now that thug's coming to your aid?" he said, not waiting for a reply. "You two have become pretty chummy in only a couple days. You might as well send an owl straight to Voldemort!" Harry turned, fired his broom downward, and landed by the group of Gryffindors. Ten minutes ago he was as happy as he could be, and now he was ready to spit venom.

Katie was explaining that they'd take a few days to decide who would take what position. She thanked them all for putting their best effort in at a hard tryout.

"Hard?" Harry called out, still steaming with anger. "Who here thinks what they just went through was hard?" A few raised their hands. "Then get out now, because what you'll have to go through to be on this team will be ten times worse! We practice in the cold, and the rain, and the wind. We'll work hours into the night debating tactics and strategy. When game time comes this winter, you'll be lucky to see the sun shine. The crowds will be screaming, and the other team will want to rip your heads off. Some of you saw it up close last year. Kirke knows." As Ron and Goyle landed, Harry pointed to Andrew Kirke who had replaced one of the Weasley twins at Beater. "He had a good long time with Madame Pomfrey after the game with Hufflepuff, didn't you Kirke?" Kirke's face reddened. "The point is, if you're not in this for the long run, if you're not committed to making Quidditch your life, get out now!"

Nearly half began to leave the field. Katie cringed sliding over next to Harry. "Great job, Potter," she whispered, "that's two of the best in the lot gone."

"They're no good to us if they're not going to put in the effort," Ginny said crossing her arms. Harry turned to Goyle.

"What are you still doing here?" he sneered.

"None of your damn business, Potter!" Goyle erupted. "I'm here, and I ain't leavin'." Goyle stood tall, defiant, his eyes fixed on Harry and unblinking. Harry looked at him hard, and realized, for the first time, that this mattered to Goyle. He really cared. Then Harry looked over at Ron, whose eyes bore a look of sincerity. The redhead nodded.

"We don't need a few days, Katie," Harry turned to his teammates. "We can do this right now."

"But..." she started.

"Goyle and Hooper at Beater, Creevey at Chaser," Harry said flatly.

"Dennis?" Katie questioned. "He'll be blown out of the pitch with the first good wind!"

"And Goyle's gone after Christmas," Ginny joined in. "What do we do then?"

"Listen," Harry replied. "Creevey's got his own Firebolt, and as small as he is, he's faster than the two of you. He's also crazy out there. It'll either score us points or get him killed. We've got to have an edge they won't expect. As long as Goyle's in the air keeping him safe," Harry glanced Goyle's way, their eyes meeting, "I think it'll be scores." Dennis was grinning so wide Harry thought he might explode.

"As far as Goyle leaving at Christmas," Ron jumped in, "we can have Kirke and Sloper keep practicing with the team through the fall. When Goyle's out, one of them will be able to take his place."

"Wait a minute!" Kirke interrupted. "I'm not going to practice all fall just to have a fifty-fifty chance that I might play winter term. That's crazy."

"No it's not," Sloper said. "You'll have the chance to play with some of the best players Hogwarts has ever seen. The practice will be great even if you don't play next term." Katie surveyed her prospects.

"Harry," said Katie, "you're right. We need commitment." She took a deep breath, and then called out clear and strong. "Goyle, Hooper, Creevey--First String. Kirke, you're out, Sloper's the only backup we'll need. First practice is next Saturday after lunch." Then she turned to Goyle. "I expect you to work as hard as anyone else, and that includes giving Jack a few pointers on the fine art of being a Beater. I want him pounding Malfoy off his broom this spring."

Goyle actually smiled back nodding his head. As they were walking back to the castle Goyle slapped Jack Sloper on the shoulder. "Jack, you remember when Katie was cutting behind..." and in an instant, Greg Goyle was a full-fledged member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Ginny came over to Harry and said, "What was that all about?"

"He's giving Jack a few pointers." Harry shook his head. "We're insane."

"No," she corrected, "you and Ron. What were you two going on about?" she asked. Harry shook his head. He stopped, letting Ron and Katie pass by, and waited until they were well ahead.

"Ron and I have come to a fork in the road, Ginny," Harry said coolly. "I've decided to choose one path, and he's decided to choose another. It happens, that's all." They started walking back to the castle. "It's... well, I don't think we can be friends anymore." The sun was low, and their shadows stretched out before them toward the castle. What warmth the day had was slipping away.

"You can't mean that Harry," Ginny said, taking him by the arm. "There are only three things he ever talks about--Hermione, Quidditch, and Harry." Both of them laughed, but Harry's smile fell as he stopped and took Ginny by the hand.

"Your family's been wonderful. They've kept my soul alive for the last six years. But it's time for me to move on. Friends grow apart, Ginny. Ron will be talking about someone else before you know it." Harry immediately thought of Goyle.

"Oh Harry," Ginny cried, and she put her arms around him, giving him a great hug.

"Hey you two! What's up?" It was Dean standing at the castle entrance. He had a smile on his face, but his eyes were darting from Ginny to Harry and back again. "Ginny, we were going to meet for dinner, right?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Dean, it's just that..."

"Yeah, I know... more Quidditch lessons from Harry." He shot an eye at Harry, and brusquely put his arm around her. "McGonagall's looking for you, Potter," he said coldly.

Harry watched Ginny put her arm around Dean, pulling him close as they walked to dinner. He looked back to see the sun begin to dip beneath the horizon. There was no cloud to bring color to the dusk, just a dying yellow... fading to night. He walked to Professor McGonagall's office. When he entered, he found her at her desk reviewing papers.

"Ah! There you are Mr. Potter," she forced a weak smile, but lost it immediately. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet Professor," Harry replied. "We've just set the Gryffindor team. We started with Ginny, Ron, Katie, and me. Today we added Dennis at Chaser," her eyes widened, "Geoffrey at Beater..."

"Bit of a whiner isn't he?" she asked.

"A whiner with a new Nimbus 2001," said Harry with a grin, he paused, "and Greg as Beater." He sighed.

"Greg?" Professor McGonagall queried in confusion.

"Goyle, ma'am," said Harry, and then he added quickly, "with Jack as backup for when he leaves next term." Her eyes peered over the top of her spectacles. She slipped them off and set them on her desk.

"Albus was right," she said to herself, straightening her robes as she stood. "I wouldn't have thought it possible."

"Right about what, Professor?"

"There's no time for that now, Harry." She walked over to her shelf and pulled down a small box. Harry knew instantly what it was.

"What's happened?" His heartbeat quickened. "Where am I going?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Mr. Chang has sent word," she began then stopped, trying to find the words. Harry's heart crumpled. "Things are not well for Cho, I'm afraid. He would like you to... to come say goodbye... before the end." Harry was white as she opened the box revealing the small golden portkey. Harry stepped back.

"No. I..." He stepped backward into a chair. "I can't... she can't... she can't die!" A torrent of emotions spewed up from within. He kicked the chair at his side, sending it across the room. He threw the papers on a nearby desk at Professor McGonagall. "She can't die!" He began to tremble, and bent over the desk with his hands to his face. Professor McGonagall set the box down on her desk, walked over to Harry, and put her arms around him, and let him sob on her shoulder. Finally, she pulled back and held his face in her hand.

"She needs you, Mr. Potter. The healers say she's gone, but for one thread. She won't let go until she can see that you are okay." She wiped his face with her hands and straightened his hair. With a quake in her voice she said, "It's time to be brave, Harry."

He walked over to her desk, and starred at the small box.

"St Mungo's?" he asked, looking into her wet eyes.

Professor McGonagall nodded. Slowly, he reached down to the golden sphere, took a deep breath, and snatched it like a Snitch.