Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Caduceus

Story Summary:
Sirius has died, and as Harry struggles with his guilt, new neighbors move in across the street on Privet Drive. But this foreign family from the Middle East has a very beautiful daughter, and she's taken a liking to Harry. But just as Harry must hide his own true identity, so too are the secrets that run deep within the Darbinyan family - secrets of death, secrets of life, secrets that will unwittingly guide Harry to rebirth, and the ultimate discovery of how Voldemort must be defeated.

Chapter 24

Chapter Summary:
Can Harry bring himself to say good-bye to Cho, and let her die with honor and grace? A flash of green--a portent of things to come.
Posted:
09/05/2005
Hits:
3,351
Author's Note:
Thanks to Sumrgirl and Neko Blossom for being my betas.


Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 24 - A Dark Mark

~~~***~~~

The first thing Harry noticed was the smell. Memories of his stay at St. Mungo's during the summer came flooding back, and he began to rub his arm. Looking around, he found himself near the inquiries desk at the hospital. Behind it stood the great picture of Dilys Derwent. There was a great look of sorrow on her face as she looked down at Harry. The witch behind the desk was talking to a woman that had a snake going in one ear and out the other.

"Spell Damage--Fourth floor," she directed. Harry approached the desk apprehensively.

"Erm, Cho Chang," he breathed unable to quite get the words out.

"Excuse me, dear?" she asked.

"Cho... Chang," he said somewhat stronger.

"And you are?" she asked again looking down at her registry.

"Harry... Harry Potter." The receptionist's eyes shot straight forward, caught his, and drifted upward. Harry simply sighed, and she let out a slight gasp.

"I heard you were with us earlier this year," she said intently staring at his scar. It was always a bit unnerving to have conversations with people who talked to your forehead. Harry turned away and looked at the people around him. To Harry's left there was a disturbance. A group of healers were racing a woman down the corridor yelling at people to get out of the way. The corridor was crowded, and they were having trouble getting people to move. Finally, at the far end, they pushed through two double doors that swung open. For the briefest instant, a tall, slender girl with black hair that had been chasing behind turned and Harry's heart skipped.

"Oh, yes," the receptionist said pulling Harry's attention away, "they're expecting you. Just head down the hall to your right, and then take a left." He glanced back down the corridor, but all was quiet again. "You look tired dear," she said kindly. Harry rubbed his eyes and nodded. As he turned to leave the receptionist said, "I'm sorry for your loss, dear."

When he reached the corridor outside Cho's room, he found James sitting with an elderly woman. She had wisps of gray hair against the black, and wore glasses. With her wand in hand, she watched two knitting needles weave their way back and forth in front of her with gold and crimson thread. James was reading a magazine, Outdoor Wizard, when he saw Harry. At first he looked back down as if he hadn't seen him. Then he started to shake, closed the magazine, and put his hands to his face. The needles stopped and the woman put her hand around him, and looking up she noticed Harry.

"It's okay Jimmy," she whispered. "It's okay." James shuddered, and then took a long deep breath. He stood and walked over to Harry. His eyes were red and filled with tears.

"They said you'd come tonight," he choked. Harry couldn't tell what the expression was on James' face. They stood, looking at each other, as a woman in a white gown with blank eyes floated past locomoted by a healer. "Go away," he whispered, tears starting to fall down his cheeks. "Go away!" Harry was speechless. He had no idea what to say, or what to do. The elderly woman came behind James and put her arms around him. "Make him leave Gran!" he yelled. "Not tonight, please! Not tonight!" And he broke down again in deep heaving sobs.

The door to Cho's room opened; it was her father. His mood was dark, and his face tired and gaunt. Behind him was a tall witch dressed in green, a healer. James let go of his grandmother and repeated his plea to his father. Mr. Cho simply held his son close, as the healer stepped over to Harry.

"Hello Mr. Potter, I'm Healer Altus," she said with a quiet voice, holding out her hand. Harry shook it. "Can we walk for a moment?" And she started to stroll down the long corridor with Harry at her side. "It is, I'm afraid, a very sad case. I doubt you'd remember, but I was your healer over the summer. Your injuries were very similar. Frankly, I'm amazed you survived. And I'm amazed Ms. Cho has lasted this long." Her voice was grim. She stopped walking and stood at a banister surrounding an atrium. There were small bushes and flowers around a bubbling waterfall. A small child had snuck through and was splashing at the water's edge.

"Harry," she continued. "There is nothing left of her brain. She's lost the will to eat and is losing her ability to breathe. It's hard to say what kind of pain she might be in. The one thing we know is that she wants to see you." She reached out and held his shoulder. "We believe she's holding on until she knows you're safe. With supplements and a bronchial-breathing spell we could keep her in this state for months, but not forever. Her parents have decided to let her go."

"Can't you..." Harry started.

"No," Altus interrupted. "We've done everything. I understand your apprehension, Harry. I'm sorry to say, her brother sees you as the Grim Reaper, here to take his sister away. Nothing could be further than the truth. You need to know that. She's trapped, Harry, and she needs you to release her." They began to walk back to the room. When they returned, James was again sitting next to his grandmother. This time he was held in her arms. Mr. Chang was standing by the door.

"Harry," Healer Altus warned in a whisper, "you should realize she's not the same girl you knew before. Just prepare yourself for that." She opened the door and Harry followed her into the room. Mr. Chang was a step behind. The room was fairly large. Flowers were everywhere, some suspended in midair. And a few balloons with GET WELL emblazoned on them floated in the corner. There was a woman behind a curtain standing at Cho's bedside holding her hand.

"Sun-Yung," Mr. Chang whispered. "He's here." Mrs. Chang stroked Cho's hand and gently kissed it, and laid it back on the bed. She walked over to Harry her shoulders slumped. When she met his face she smiled, a tear falling from the corner of her eye.

"I see now why she wrote so much about you last year." She held her hand to his face. "You are sad, no?" Her eyes were tender and her smile sincere. "We are all sad, Harry. We ask you here to answer her call one last time. It is a great request, and you honor us by answering our daughter." Harry began to tremble. She took him by the shoulder and walked him to Cho's bedside.

"Cho," she said, her voiced raised, "you have a visitor. Harry... Harry Potter has come to see you." Cho was motionless. Mrs. Chang looked back up to his face. "Take your time, my son. We will be right outside the door." Her voice wavered. "If there is... a change, you will call?" Unable to speak, Harry nodded, his eyes wet. As the door shut behind him, he took in the scene more fully.

Cho's face was sunken and sallow. He could see the purple veins that streaked down her arms, clearly visible through her translucent skin. Her brown eyes were open, almost fearful, but fixed at the ceiling. She thrust her tongue forward as if trying to speak, but fell silent, drool oozing from the side of her mouth. Harry grabbed a towel at her bedside table. His hand was shaking as he wiped he mouth. He sat at the side of her bed and began to stroke her black hair. It felt thin and lifeless. He looked at the flowers around the bed and then he noticed, there were no portraits of wizards or witches in this room. "Death is private," he thought.

"Hello, Cho," he whispered, his voice cracking. "We've missed you at school." Her eyes twitched, but nothing more. He slid closer to look into her eyes bringing one knee onto the bed. "Gryffindor's picked its team. They've flipped the usual schedule; this year we play Ravenclaw first. I... I don't know what they're going to do without you at Seeker." He stroked her cheek. "I don't know what any of us are going to do without you." Her head moved slightly to the side, and her eyes seemed to focus on his face.

"Hi," he said softly, trying to smile. The fear in her eyes faded.

"Harry?" she breathed faintly. "Have you seen Harry? Is he okay?" Her breaths became labored, almost rhythmic.

"I'm here, Cho," he said, tears falling from his eyes. "Right here in front of you. I'm safe." Slowly, she moved her hand, and he took it in his own. It was cold. "Harry is safe, Cho." A small smile creased her thin face.

"Safe?" she breathed, the rhythm was heavier and slowing. Her eyes looked through Harry to another place. "Safe," she whispered in satisfaction. Harry climbed fully onto the bed and held her face in his hands. His eyes so full of tears he couldn't see.

"Don't go, Cho," he cried. "Stay with me. Just for awhile, please." But her breaths continued to grow more labored, and the rhythm continued to slow. Harry leaned down and kissed her cheek. He looked down into her eyes. His heart ached and he held her tight. "Please, just a little longer," he whispered. As he pulled back, through his tears he thought he saw a green light grow in her eyes, but then her breathing stopped and all was dark. "No! Please no!" he cried out loud, and he reached down once again and held her close. Cheek to cheek, he began to sob as he rocked her in his arms. The door opened behind him. He could hear Mrs. Chang break down and cry. A hand patted Harry on the back.

"It's okay Harry, she's gone now," said Mr. Chang, but Harry wouldn't let go. He was feeling weak, and dizzy, but he held her tight still sobbing. In his arms was his first love, lifeless, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible. And then, inexplicably, a burst of warmth hit his ear... a breath. He froze. Another.

He pulled himself up wiping the tears from his eyes, and looked down. Her eyes were closed, but some hint of color had returned to her face. There she lay, thin and gaunt, but she was breathing. He began to shake, holding his hand to her face. It was warm. Harry heard Mrs. Chang let out a gasp. She grabbed her daughter's hand and felt her forehead. And then she turned to Harry.

"What happened?" she asked. Harry shook his head, still shaking.

"I... I don't know," he stammered as he slid his feet off the bed and onto the floor. The room seemed to spin, and his legs were weak. "She was... she..."

Mrs. Chang stroked her daughter's face. "She hasn't closed her eyes since she arrived." Harry suddenly realized that the whole family was in the room. Healer Altus stepped closer to look. "What does it mean, Healer?" Mrs. Chang asked.

Healer Altus held her wand over Cho's head. It emitted a faint orange light. When the light went off, Altus' hand began to tremble ever so slightly. She looked to Mrs. Chang. "She... she's sleeping," the healer said with bewilderment.

"I don't understand, Healer," Mr. Chang said, stepping forward. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied looking at Cho and then to Harry. "The trauma is gone." But these words did not register with either of Cho's parents.

It was James who stood at the back of the room with his grandmother and whispered, "Harry."

Mrs. Chang looked down at her daughter. "I don't understand either. Is she..." But her words were cut short by her daughter's own.

"M-Mom?" Cho said in a very faint and weak voice. There was a collective gasp in the room. Everyone suddenly gathered around her bed, everyone but Harry, who took a step backward. A moment passed, and slowly Cho opened her eyes. "Mom?" her voice was stronger, but still weak. "Where am I?" There was a jubilant explosion as everyone tried to speak at once. Harry backed unsteadily toward the door, walked out into the corridor and sat down. He suddenly felt ill, trembling and cold, and he didn't know why.

How long he sat, he wasn't sure. He found himself staring at the cover of Outdoor Wizard, which bore the picture of a Unicorn, its head tossing up and down. He opened the magazine and tried to read an article on camping Muggle style in the high country with only a wand and a portkey. His vision seemed blurred, and he was just trying to read how Muggles pitch tents when the door to Cho's room opened and Healer Altus stepped out. Harry dropped the magazine and straightened in his chair. The healer was shaking her head, but wore a broad smile.

"She's talking," said Altus, "and hungry." She came over and sat down next to Harry. "What happened in there, child?" Harry looked at the closed door.

"I... I said I was fine," he said, and then looking at his shoes, "I told her she could go," he lied. "I thought, I thought she had."

"Well, the brain is the most mysterious thing of all," Altus replied. "Whatever you said, it has brought her back from the brink. She still has some nerve damage, but she's alive and as soon as we get some weight on her she should be ready to go home." Altus stood and ruffled Harry's hair. "You've worked magic today, Mr. Potter," she said grinning and walked down the corridor. No sooner had she left than Mrs. Chang came half way out of the door.

"Healer Altus says she needs to rest, but Cho wants to see you before you go."

"I... I don't think..."

"Come. Come," she insisted, waving Harry to the door. When he entered Cho's room, James immediately wrapped his arms around Harry.

"Thank you, Harry," he said. "I'll never forget what you've done today." Harry looked down at the young wizard and smiled. He walked over to Cho's bed as the rest of the family left the room. Slowly, he seemed to be regaining his bearings. Cho had her head higher up on the pillow and was sipping from a cup in her left hand through a straw. She grimaced.

"Yuk," she said, puckering her lips, "this is awful." She slowly handed Harry the cup as he continued to smile.

"Wait till you try the green gravy. I hear it puts hair on your chest," he laughed putting the cup down and stepping closer. It was as if he were looking at a different person. She bore a bright smile and warm eyes. He took her right hand, but noticed it did not take his in return; its life had not yet returned. "I thought we had lost you, Cho. We all did." She looked down.

"I was lost Harry." She pulled a flower from one of the vases by her bed and breathed in its aroma. "It was as if I was floating around these flowers watching myself wither away." She looked back up to him. "And then you entered the room, and a flash of spring seemed to warm my heart again. You called me back, Harry. Thank you." He stroked a wisp of hair from off her face.

"You brought yourself back, Cho." He offered her another sip, but she declined. "Will they let you come back to school?" Cho nodded.

"I think so." He squeezed Cho's right hand, but it still lay limp. "Soon, I hope. James tells me Gryffindor plays Ravenclaw in the first match this year. I can't wait to..." Her mouth opened wide as she let out a long yawn. Harry bent low and kissed her forehead.

"Sleep," he said. "Everything else will come soon enough." He took the flower from her hand and pulled her covers up to her chin. "Goodnight," he whispered and left the room.

Together, Harry and James took a portkey back to Hogwarts. They found themselves at the front entrance to the castle. It was well past curfew, and Professor McGonagall stood waiting to greet them. James immediately ran into her arms, hugging her tight and Professor McGonagall held him close starting to sob.

"What are you doing here, James," she cried. "You should be with your family." But when James pulled away he held her hands wide in his. He wasn't crying, he was laughing, spinning her around in a half dance. Professor McGonagall was at a loss. She looked to Harry who wore a broad grin.

"I didn't know you could dance so well, Professor!" he called. Professor McGonagall was flummoxed.

"What happened, Mr. Potter?" she called, on one particularly wild spin. But it was James who answered.

"She's alive! She's alive!" he sang. "Harry brought her back! She's alive and well Professor!" He stopped a bit winded, and Professor McGonagall tried to regain her composure.

"Harry?" she whispered.

"He's just happy Professor," Harry said walking close to her. "Cho has regained consciousness." He laughed, watching James dance up and down the steps. "They say she might return to school soon, right James?"

"Yep!" he called out hopping down three steps at a time, and then racing back up. Professor McGonagall looked to the front door of the castle apprehensively.

"Oh dear," she muttered with a look of concern across her face that then gave way to a smile. "Oh dear!" She grabbed James by the back of the collar as he whizzed by. "Come on, the two of you, it is time to head in." They walked to the front doors and she stopped just short. "Gentlemen, the people inside believe that Cho has died, please be sensitive to that fact."

They walked through the front doors into a crowded entranceway. Assembled from each house were the Prefects, the Head Boy and Head Girl. Professors Flitwick, Snape and Sprout flanked Professor Dumbledore who was sitting on a chair next to the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. At the side of the room next to a fine grain leather trunk, stood Draco Malfoy; behind the blonde was his mother, Narcissa Malfoy. The room was grim and silent. Marietta, a Ravenclaw Prefect this year, was staring blankly at the floor. Hermione and Pansy Parkinson were both crying, but for different reasons.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Fudge spoke up. "Well," he said, "It's time, Narcissa, I'm sorry."

"No!' she screamed, her shrill voice piercing the silence of the sullen scene. "You can't Cornelius! I've told you, it was an accident!" If it was possible, Malfoy's face was even more pale than usual, but his eyes showed no fear. Instead, his expression was one of resignation. When he caught Harry's eyes from across the room, there was no malice, and perhaps, Harry thought, a sense of regret. Professor McGonagall strode across the entranceway to where Professor Dumbledore was seated and began to whisper in his ear. James, however, could stand it no longer. He was trying to stay composed when a giggle and then a guffaw of laughter exploded from his belly. He ran straight to Marietta, jumped up, wrapped his arms around her, and the two fell over onto the ground.

"She's back!" he yelled. "Marietta, she's back!" Most everyone in the room bore the same look Professor McGonagall had moments earlier. Marietta, on the ground with James on top of her grinning from ear-to-ear, grabbed him by the shoulders. She began to understand.

"All the way?" she asked. James nodded wildly. Marietta gripped him close, smiling. Professor Dumbledore stood from his chair.

"It appears, Cornelius," he said, "that Ms. Chang has recovered. Your services are no longer required, unless, of course, you would care to join us for the celebration." And with that, Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured a long table covered with sweets near the front doors that reminded Harry of his birthday celebration. "Perhaps a slice of cake?" he asked with a smile. Dumbledore walked over to Mrs. Malfoy who, at his words, locked her son in an embrace. She was weeping violently, but her tears were tears of joy.

Most everyone had surrounded James and Marietta exchanging hugs and smiles trying to get details from James. Hermione was the first to walk to Harry whose mind was fusing the scene of his birthday party with the vision now before him. "We were told she was to die tonight," she sniffed, wiping her reddened face. "Professor Flitwick said that they would let her pass after she said goodbye to you." She reached out and took Harry's hand. "What happened?"

Harry scanned the room. People were starting to get food from the table, exchanging Cho stories with smiling faces, hypothesizing when she might return. Harry's glance returned to Hermione. "I went to say goodbye," he said, and his hands began to tremble. "But, I couldn't. I asked her to come back to me, and... and she did." He looked at her as if, perhaps, he'd done something wrong.

"Oh, Harry," she cried, and held him close. Harry saw Ron looking at them, but when their eyes met, Ron turned away toward the table of food. Still, Harry let go of Hermione.

"Let's get a bite," he suggested. "I missed dinner." He was following her to the line that had formed when he noticed Malfoy standing at the back of the entryway. He was making his way toward James, tapped him on the shoulder and motioned for him to walk away from the others. Alone, the two started talking. After some time, Malfoy took James by the shoulder and held out his right hand. James hesitated, but then took the offer. As the two shook hands, James said something to Malfoy and the two simultaneously looked at Harry. James continued talking as Malfoy's and Harry's eyes locked together. Harry decided he would not look away first. Finally, Malfoy nodded and let go of James' hand just as Pansy came up to him grinning and giving him a hug.

Harry was exhausted by the time he started up the stairs to Gryffindor. Ron had left an hour earlier, and Hermione not much after that. Harry was caught retelling the story of Cho's recovery over and over. Everyone found it fascinating, even Mrs. Malfoy who thanked Harry for saving her son, as if that were Harry's only motivation. She never mentioned that Harry had horribly scarred her son's face. Evidently keeping him out of Azkaban was of prime importance.

Only Dumbledore seemed unsatisfied with the telling of Harry's story, as if some critical aspect of her return had been overlooked. Passing through the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry found the common room empty. The fire was dying down and the room dark. The portraits on the walls were silent as the witches and wizards slept in their frames. He looked at the stairs to the boys' dormitories, but then decided to sit in front of the fire.

He had not told anybody about Cho's lifeless arm. "She'll recover," he said to himself. He looked at the smooth skin of his own right arm in the glow of the embers. What had happened tonight? He tried to replay the scene in his mind, but he was too tired. He needed to get to bed. At least tomorrow he could sleep in. The fire cracked, and Harry thought he heard a rustling sound. He leaned his head back against the cushion; his lids were heavy. Maybe he'd just rest here a moment and then head up to bed.

The fire was bright and warming. Maybe a bit too warm, Harry thought. It seemed to be growing brighter and brighter. It started to crackle loudly and Harry pulled his feet in as embers the size of golf balls began to fly out toward him. There was a rhythmic swoosh-swoosh-swoosh as he realized he was sitting in the middle of a grassy field, a group of gnomes was running away from him. He pulled his knees in close. The sound was closer, swoosh-swoosh-swoosh. Suddenly black and red embers began to rain down on his head. He held his hand high but it was no use. The embers began to burn through his robes. He screamed in pain. A gnome was running straight at him and jumped on his chest. "Harry Potter!" it yelled.

"Harry Potter, wake-up, wake-up!" Harry threw the voice off his chest and jumped up brushing the embers off his robes... but there were no embers. He was in the common room. On the floor, next to the fire now almost extinguished, was Dobby the house elf rubbing his head.

Harry looked around trying to place himself. The pain in his arm had returned. He blinked at the fire. "Dobby?" he whispered, rubbing his eyes and face. "What are you doing?" His words were sharper than they should have been, but Harry was agitated and the sight of a house elf didn't help.

"Dobby is cleaning sir," the house elf said rising to his feet and bending in a low bow. "But then Dobby hears the great Harry Potter screaming, so Dobby wakes him." Dobby looked sincerely concerned, but then Dobby always looked concerned. Harry's arm was throbbing, he was tired, and he'd just had a very unpleasant dream. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead.

"Great, Dobby," Harry snipped, "I'm off to bed." Harry headed toward the stairs.

"You have a mark upon you sir," Dobby whispered. Harry stopped. His sleeve was down. Had Dobby seen it while he was sleeping? He turned to find Dobby facing him, but bowing low.

"What have you seen, Dobby?" Harry stepped toward him.

"Nothing, Harry Potter, sir, nothing." The words irritated Harry. If he hadn't seen his arm, then how would he know?

"Liar!" Harry yelled. "You're ALL liars!" He was angry, and he had no right to be. His face was hot, his eyes on fire. "WHAT HAVE YOU SEEN?" He was towering over Dobby. The house elf was frightened; Harry had misunderstood.

"You have a mark upon you sir," he repeated. "A new mark. Someone has..." Harry bent low putting one knee to the ground, his face inch's from Dobby's. For some reason he had an overwhelming urge to throttle the house elf, but resisted the temptation.

"You'll tell no one," he sneered through gritted teeth. "Do you understand? NO ONE!" They were nearly nose-to-nose. Glowing red by the fire, Harry could see the reflection of his face off the large orbs of Dobby's eyes. It was contorted and cruel.

"But sir," Dobby whispered with a questioning voice, "surely no one has seen it?" He reached his hand to Harry's face but did not touch. "It is everywhere, and nowhere," he said, moving his hand as if stroking an invisible cloud around Harry's face. "No wizard could see it."

"SEE WHAT?" yelled Harry grabbing Dobby's hand before him. The sleeve on his robe slipped down his right arm revealing the mark by the glow of the fire's dying embers. Dobby saw it immediately and gasped. Clearly this mark was a revelation. Harry let go, pulling his sleeve down and standing away.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said walking toward Harry as if to help. "Harry Potter has been touched by a Dark Wizard." There was a commotion from the stairs leading to the boys' dormitory.

A voice said, "Lumos!" and a bright light filled the stairway. Whoever cast the spell was walking down. Harry turned to the house elf, thirsty for an explanation.

"Dobby, what do you..." but Dobby was gone. When Harry looked back to the stairs, he saw Goyle groggily stepping down in green pajamas. At first he hadn't noticed Harry was there, he didn't see the Harry that was now shaking with rage.

"Ron, you better be right," he said to himself walking toward one of the cupboards above the common room counter. He opened it to find a piece of cake from the evening's celebration. A grin flashed across his face. Taking the plate he began to head back upstairs when he noticed Harry holding his wand.

"Potter," he spat, "what are you doing here? So help me, if you..."

* * *

In bed, Harry once again cleared his mind before finally falling to sleep. On this night, the last thing to leave his thoughts was the result of his last spell... an image of a jar holding a large toad in green pajamas with frosting all over its face.


Author notes: Please review! Thanks!