Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 26 - A Girl's Best Friend

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When Harry went to dinner, he had no trouble finding a seat at the Gryffindor table. Most all the sixth years were gone. Ginny and a few others were also absent. A scan around the Great Hall for a few of Hermione's friends from the other houses revealed they were also gone. He knew, of course, what they were doing, having a grand time at Hermione's birthday party. He just didn't know where. He sat down and a plate of chicken, green beans, and roasted potatoes appeared. He was taking a sip of milk, thinking of Dobby, when Dennis Creevey sat down next to him.

"Hey Harry!" his voice cracked. "Where is everyone?" A plate appeared in front of Dennis and he began to eat.

"Hermione turns seventeen today." Harry sighed. "The party's tonight." Adjusting his glasses, Harry stabbed a potato with his fork and thrust it into his mouth. Dennis scanned the table up and down, looked at Harry, but didn't say a word. Instead, he simply took another bite. Harry couldn't help but think of the difference between Dennis and his brother Colin. There was a wisdom behind Dennis' eyes that Colin just didn't have. Knowing when not to speak was a great gift. Happy to be able to guide the conversation, Harry spoke first.

"You were tremendous out on the pitch the other day," Harry said hoisting what energy he could into his voice. "You flew right at that Bludger almost daring it to hit you."

"When you're as small as I am," Dennis shrugged, "you can change directions faster than a Bludger. Colin showed me that over the summer."

"Colin?" Harry was surprised.

"Yeah. He took some moving pictures of me practicing and was able to show me some things I was doing wrong." Dennis smiled. "He's great with a camera. If you'd like, I can have him get some shots of you." He took a drink of milk. "But with that Caduceus of yours, they'd probably all be blurry." Dennis smiled.

"Sure," Harry found himself saying. "That'd be great."

They spoke mostly about Quidditch for quite awhile. But they also touched on the summer activities of the Creevey family. Dennis' father, being a milkman, didn't make much money. There were no trips to Germany in the Creevey household. Instead, Colin and his brother did yard work around their neighborhood and Colin did some work as a photographer at Muggle weddings.

"I know it's not much," Dennis said shyly, "but we get along okay."

"Are you kidding?" Harry smiled. "It's brilliant! I worked in a sporting-goods shop this year. It means something, Dennis, when the money in your pocket is earned from your own effort." Dennis grinned back nodding his head in agreement.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. We made enough to buy the Firebolt."

"We?" Harry asked.

"Colin gave me his summer savings so I'd have a chance to make the team," Dennis replied. It hit Harry right between the eyes. Of course, his father could never afford a Firebolt as a milkman, and one summer's work mowing lawns wouldn't do it either.

"Everything?" Harry asked.

"Well, he bought some dress robes with the rest, but, yeah, everything." Dennis spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world for someone to give all they had for their brother. Harry thought back to Remus' words: It's never about how much, but how you use it that makes the difference. Harry looked at Dennis a bit embarrassed.

"It was the Firebolt," Harry said, "that got you on the team."

"I figured as much," Dennis answered un-phased. "There were a lot of good players at the tryouts."

"But that doesn't take away from the fact that you've flown brilliantly," Harry added. Dennis looked up with a look that needed reassurance and Harry gave it without a second's thought. "Brilliantly," he emphasized. "You're picking up Katie's plays faster than anyone else on the team and that includes me."

By the time the two had finished, Harry found himself feeling much better than when he first sat down. Talk of Quidditch strategies and general Muggle life seemed to lighten his heart. They were headed out of the Great Hall when Dennis began to look uncomfortable.

"What is it Dennis?" Harry asked.

"Well," Dennis wavered. "You know... Professor Tonks is great and all, but... well, there are some of us who had a good time last year when... well, when you were teaching us... you know?" Harry didn't know what to say. It was an odd turn in the conversation. "I know it was because Umbridge was so awful, but it was fun. Like our own club or something, it was great!" Again Dennis became uneasy. "Well, a few of us were wondering if maybe you could, you know, start it up again this year." Harry began to shake his head.

"Look," Harry said politely, "Dennis, I really don't have the..."

"I know. I know." Dennis cut in not wanting to put Harry in an uncomfortable position. "You're busy. I understand. It was just a..."

"No," Harry interrupted. "No, I'm not busy." He paused watching students pass down the corridor. Probably heading to the library, he thought. If anything, he was wasting his time thinking. He needed, he wanted to do something. Still, he was a bit apprehensive. "There's the dueling club you know."

"I said fun, Harry," Dennis said rolling his eyes. "Snape runs that club like a boot-camp, except for his own Slytherins who he lets cheat every time they get a chance." The two stopped at the bottom of the staircase.

"Listen, Dennis. If I'm running Dumbledore's Army again, we won't exclude anybody willing to fight Voldemort. That includes Slytherins." Harry waited for a howling complaint, but Dennis took his words, rolled them in his mind, and then nodded in agreement. Then a huge smile burst across his face.

"Same place you think?" Dennis asked.

"Well we won't have to hide this year. I think we can use the room to..." Harry stopped. "Of course," he whispered, his eyes casting a glance upward. "Do you still have your coin?" he said excitedly.

"Sure." Dennis replied. Harry started running up the staircase.

"Keep it handy," Harry called back. "I'll let you know when!" He was jumping the steps three at a time. When he passed through the portrait of the Fat Lady, he found the common room empty of all sixth years except two. There by the fire, Neville and Helen were holding hands.

"Neville!" Harry called out. "She can't be in here! Does she know the password?"

"If Goyle can know the password, Helen can," Neville replied with a somewhat dreamlike voice. "I just wanted to show her around Harry, that's all." Harry didn't have time to argue. He shot up to his dormitory and grabbed a small package with a bow. On the way down the stairs he passed Neville and Helen climbing up.

"Neville, just...," Harry sighed, "...just be careful," he said, and jumped the rest of the way down the stairs. In minutes, he was at the Room of Requirement, Hermione's present in hand and sweat beading on his brow. The corridor was silent as he wiped his face. When he pushed the door open he was met with a blast of voices mixed with music. His guess was right. It was Hermione's party.

"You made it!" called Lavender who was standing next to Parvati. Each had a plastic cup in their hand, and both seemed to be a bit too giggly. Grinning, they both spoke in unison, "They said you were sick."

"They did, did they?" sneered Harry. "Well, I'm feeling much better now, I assure you." He stepped deeper into the room. Virtually every Gryffindor sixth year was here. There were party favors and crackers everywhere. Balloons filled the ceiling and confetti littered the floor. What was left of a rather large cake sat on a table beside a barrel that Harry figured to be a keg of beer. There against the wall stood Dean and Ginny, oblivious to everything around them, arm-in-arm, and all smiles. The room was filled, and as each person caught eye of Harry, they seemed to stop their conversation or laughter. He heard a small cheer coming from a side room. As he walked toward its entrance, Ginny caught sight of Harry and a look of surprise spread over her face. He poked his head into the side room, and found it also filled with people. Hermione was sitting on a couch next to Ron. There was a large flash of light. Colin was taking pictures of Hermione opening her presents. By the looks of things, Hermione had received mostly books, and loved every one.

He stepped in and the laughter stopped. Hermione looked up to see what was wrong, and saw Harry walking toward her. He hoisted a grand smile on his face. He was used to silent stares. He set his small present with what appeared to be yet more books on the table before her.

"I told you I had a present for you. Happy Birthday," he said continuing to smile wide. "It's a wonderful party. Really wonderful." Looking down he noticed that Ron was wearing a T-shirt with the logo of a German beer company that matched the emblem on the keg in the outer room. "A present from vacation?" Harry asked. Ron reddened, but remained silent. Harry looked straight into Ron's eyes. They were bloodshot, drooping, and reminded him of Duncan's after a night of drinking. "Yes, well... I didn't think you'd have the guts to answer." Ron simply scowled.

Hermione took the gift in her hands and removed the paper. It was a small velvet case about eight inches long. When she opened it she gave a small shriek. "Oh Harry! You shouldn't have!" She stood up and hugged him tight. Then reaching into the box she pulled out a golden necklace studded with diamonds. There was a collective squeal from most of the girls in the room. Parvati, who'd been peaking in, ran over to Hermione.

"Here!" she said, smiling excitedly. "Let me help you put it on!" She stood behind Hermione, held the chain in her hand, her mouth aghast, and clasped the sparkling jewelry around her neck. "It's gorgeous," Lavender whispered in Hermione's ear.

"I thought," said Harry, still managing a smile, "seventeen deserved something more than books." Hermione reached out and held him in her arms.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, and kissed his cheek. Harry looked around the room and suddenly became uncomfortable. For the first time, Harry realized that Hermione was starting to look more like a woman than a girl.

"I really must be going, Hermione," he excused himself. "Thanks for everything, but I have a busy day tomorrow." Still smiling he turned and started to weave his way through the people that had poked their heads in to see what he was saying. He had just entered the main room when Ron called him from behind.

"You know you weren't invited Potter!" he slurred. Harry stopped without looking back. He had not intended to give the gift to Hermione in front of Ron, but somehow knowing it hurt Ron made him feel better. He took a step to the door, there was a small gasp, and the people around Harry pulled away. Harry continued to walk toward the door, and Ron continued to yell at his back. "You shouldn't have come! Why do you have to ruin everythin' you touch, Potter?" said Ron, trying to inflict what pain he could. Harry refused to look at him, and continued to the door.

"Ron, please... stop," Hermione's voice pleaded. "Put it down."

The ache began at the tips of Harry's fingers and wrapped its way around his forearm and struck like a knife into his right shoulder. He tucked at his shirtsleeve ensuring it was down all the way. The smile on his face washed away. The placid nothingness he felt walking in was now growing into full-fledged anger. Dean had backed into a corner, but Ginny looked livid.

"Ron Weasley!" she yelled, "Put your wand down this instant or you'll have more to worry about than Harry Potter blasting you into smithereens!"

"You don't think I can beat him!" Ron's voice pitched higher. "So smug, so perfect. Well he's not perfect I tell you!" Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to step once more to the door. "You know that mark on Malfoy's face?" Ron called to the crowd. "It's not the..." Another collective gasp in the room cut him short. Harry had spun, his wand out, and fire in his eyes.

"Weasley!" he shouted with a voice that commanded the room. "Please demonstrate to the rest of our friends why one shouldn't drink and cast spells. You're blathering like a raving lunatic!" Everyone chuckled which, for Ron, made matters worse.

Ron's face reddened more, if that were possible, and he called out, "Reduc..." But his spell was too slow.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Instantly, Ron froze and fell to the floor. Behind him stood Hermione, a span of diamonds across her neck glittering in the bright candlelight, and a wand in her hand. She had cast the spell at Ron's back that dropped him like a statue to the floor.

"I'm sorry," she said looking at Harry.

"He's right about one thing, Hermione," Harry said putting his wand away. "I shouldn't have come." He left the room rubbing his arm. He'd only gone a few steps down the corridor when Hermione's voice called him back.

"Harry, wait!" she said running up to him. "He didn't mean it. He hasn't been himself lately." Her eyes wandered to the party room and then back to Harry. They were mixed with concern and sadness. "I know there's something wrong, but he won't..." Harry's eyes looked to the floor. In that instant, he'd given himself away.

"You know," she whispered. "You know what's wrong with him, don't you?" Harry weakly shook his head.

"No. I can't say that I..."

"Don't feed me that trash," she said, her face flushing. "Now who's spewing the lies?" Harry continued to shake his head.

"I gave my word, Hermione. I know the two of us are finished, but I gave my word. I can't."

"Even if it kills him?" she yelled grabbing Harry by the arm. He winced, and she let go. "It's back?" she asked. Harry nodded. He lifted his sleeve to show her. Her hand covered her mouth, but she said nothing. He lowered his sleeve, and for a moment they remained silent.

"Hermione, you need to get him to see Madame Pomfrey," he whispered looking up and down the corridor. "His scars are getting worse."

"Just a bit redder," she said shaking her head. "I saw... well, I know the welts don't seem to hurt as much."

"Not on the outside, Hermione... on the inside." He paused and took a breath. "The scars run deep," he said, looking at her over his glasses. Hermione's color drained.

"How deep?" she asked, her eyes growing wide. Harry wouldn't say. He knew he didn't need to. "The headaches," she whispered to herself. "Voices... he said voices..." her mind was running to an inexorable conclusion. "The brain!" she grabbed Harry's arm again, and again he winced. "Oh Harry, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't he tell me?"

"He's better when he's not around people," Harry said. "He needs quiet, and solitude."

"And he was surrounded tonight," she said exasperated. "No wonder he was so... so..." Her eyes shot back to the party room. "I've got to get him out of there." She darted back toward the door.

"Hermione," Harry said, "let Ginny do it. Stay and enjoy your party. She and Dean can get him back to Gryffindor." Hermione tried to smile, but made no reply as she started for the door. "Hermione," Harry called again. "I'm sorry. No more secrets, okay?" Her eyes would not hold his gaze; she nodded looking away and disappeared into the Room of Requirement. Harry returned to the common room wondering why it had been so hard for the three of them to be honest with each other. He was determined to make things different.

But after a week of effort on Harry's part, the friction between him and Ron wasn't getting better. If anything, it was growing worse. Despite Hermione's best efforts, Ron refused to visit Madame Pomfrey. He was becoming more irritable toward everyone. Everyone, that is, except Goyle with whom he was spending more and more time. The one positive note was that Harry didn't share every class with him. It was hard to believe that less than a month ago they were both bemoaning the same fact. This morning, however, was Charms with Professor Flitwick. Ron sat, as always, with Hermione toward the front of the class. Harry sat next to Malfoy.

It was hard to explain. He and Malfoy clearly were not friends. Outside of class their words to each other were always taunts or insults. And yet, they had most of their classes together, and in those they nearly always partnered. It had become an unfriendly competition. Knowing Cho was becoming better, Harry's pure hatred of Malfoy had diminished somewhat. And what animosity Malfoy felt toward Harry he couldn't say. The scar still hung from the corner of Malfoy's left eye. It was perhaps, fainter, but clearly visible, and a day didn't go by that someone new would see his face for the first time and gasp. Harry wondered if Malfoy truly felt what it meant to be different for a change. Yet, whenever Malfoy showed Harry any kindness, Harry couldn't help but think Malfoy was trying to maneuver him into saying something about the Order to feed back to his Death Eater connections.

"Today, class," Professor Flitwick squeaked, "we will be learning an extraordinary charm. He set a small statue of an eagle on the desk in front of him. Pointing his wand at the bird, he said "Invsitata!" The statue disappeared and the class gave out a small ooh and clapped.

"That's no different than Scourgify," Ron chided from the front row next to Hermione.

"I'm afraid it's quite different Mr. Weasley," Professor Flitwick corrected kindly. "Scourgify removes waste matter from its current location, decomposes and translates it to the world around us. That spell would never remove such a large object. Invsitata does not remove objects; it hides them. The eagle is still here." And with that he placed a small white linen over the eagle, its shape clearly visible. Again the class murmured.

"The spell," Professor Flitwick continued, "is good for hiding inanimate objects. The better you are at it, the larger the object can be. Properly done, and with the appropriate modifications, you can make an entire automobile disappear." He winked at Ron. "It is more difficult, however, if the object is moving." He took off the linen and appeared to be slowly lifting the statue in his hand. Then he began to quickly shake it back and forth. The eagle began to snap in and out of visibility with every jerk of his hand. The faster his hands moved the clearer it became. Tired out, Professor Flitwick put the bird back down on the table, held out his wand, and said "Cresco!" The eagle reappeared, stationary on the table before him.

"How sophomoric!" Malfoy drawled into Harry's ear. "One day they may actually teach us something useful in this school." Harry ignored him as Malfoy leaned back in his chair.

"I must warn you not to use the spell on animate objects," Professor Flitwick cautioned, "particularly living creatures." He brought out an owl in a cage. Harry was suddenly reminded of Gabriella. He had not yet heard from her, nor had Hedwig returned. His eyes narrowed and he suddenly found himself sulking. Along with Malfoy, he sunk back in his chair. He had missed Professor Flitwick's words, but didn't much care. Malfoy was right, what would he ever use this spell for?

Professor Flitwick pointed his wand to the bird and called "Invsitata!" The bird's wings began to fade, as did its flesh. The arteries, and veins as well as the heart and lungs wove a fabric around the bird and were clearly visible. "The bird's blood moves with each pump of the heart and so we see it and the organs through which it passes as clearly as if we pealed the animal open to take a look inside."

"Professor," Hermione called raising her hand, "can the spell be used by healers to see into the body?"

"Very good, Ms. Granger!" said Professor Flitwick as he clapped his hands. "Five points for Gryffindor! That's exactly how they use it. Tumors, clots, narrowed arteries, all become apparent without harming the patient." Then Professor Flitwick smiled. "A few wizards and witches have used it to hide their treasure, only to have forgotten where they last left it lay. You can't bring the object back without a clear shot with your wand." He scanned the room for a minute and cast his wand. Eagle statues appeared at each table. "We'll discuss that one later," he chuckled. "In the meantime break into pairs and help each other master the spell you've just learned."

"Pathetic," Malfoy said with a sigh, pulling his wand from his sleeve.

"Well, then, have a go!" Harry challenged. Malfoy rolled his eyes and stared at the eagle.

Malfoy raised his wand at the bird and called "Invsitata!" The statue seemed to shimmer for a moment or two, and then simply reappeared as it was. Harry laughed.

"That's the definition of pathetic Malfoy!" he jabbed. "Weasley could do better than that." Malfoy's eyebrows furled and his face puckered. Harry took Malfoy's pouting moment to glance up at the front of the classroom. Hermione brought her bird back from nothingness. Ron's efforts had less effect than Malfoy's. In fact, Harry saw nothing happen.

"Well?" Malfoy called. "Are you going to watch your girlfriend and her diamonds all morning, or are you going to demonstrate your own worthlessness as a wizard."

Harry pulled out his own wand and pointed it at the bird. "Invsitata!" he cast, and the eagle began to fade. The bird's head disappeared, but then nothing more happened. "Cresco!" he called and the bird reappeared fully. This time, Malfoy laughed.

"I just had a vision of your future, Potter!" he said, and grinned.

"If you can't do better, Malfoy, just admit it now and leave the room. I'm sure Snape has some socks and underwear he needs washed again." With that, Malfoy stiffened and the competition was on. By the end of the period the two had mastered the skill, while most the class was still having only marginal success. Ron was having no success at all. Harry could see Hermione trying to explain the wrist movement, but Ron never had liked her lecturing him. His best progress had always been made with Harry when she wasn't even watching. He was growing redder and more irritable by the second. Finally, he burst.

"Quit trying to show off!" Ron yelled. "You're just a pratty little know-it-all who likes to lord it over other people." The class turned to the commotion in front. Know-it-all was the one insult that had always cut Hermione deepest. She turned red herself, and raised her wand at Ron.

"Invsitata!" she yelled clear and strong. Ron stood motionless, which was perhaps a mistake. His clothes began to disappear in front of everyone. A quick glance down told him what everyone was laughing at. Immediately he shot for the door. His movement brought his clothes back and covered his skin, but by now everyone, except Hermione and Harry, was screaming with laughter. Harry darted to the door after Ron. A few started to follow and he stopped them.

"No!" Harry yelled. "You'll stay here."

"Everyone to their seats!" Professor Flitwick commanded. The students returned as Harry chased Ron down the hall.

"Ron! Stop!" he called. "I'll change it back." Hearing Harry's words, Ron ducked into an alcove behind a suit of armor and waited for Harry to catch up. A moment later, Harry turned in to meet Ron, his wand in hand.

"I can't believe she turned my clothes invisible!" he yelled. Harry just stood there, his jaw open, and his eyes wide. "What?" Ron asked. "What's the matter?" But Harry couldn't speak; his heart was pounding. Instead, Harry pointed his wand at the back of the suit of armor.

"Argenta!" he whispered. The back of the soldier's armor turned mirror-like. Harry pointed for Ron to see his reflection. Ron walked over and looked.

"No," he whispered reaching his hands to his back but unable to grasp the thing he was reaching for. It was too deep.

Not only had his clothes disappeared, but as he stood still long enough, so too had his skin and bone. What was revealed was the human vascular system. Harry stared at the model before him. A model he'd seen in books on anatomy. Only this model had one difference. High on the neck was a weaving network of arteries and veins that no human ever had. It was a twisted web that curled around his spine down to the middle of his back. What was worse was the network that moved from the middle of his neck upward. This moving fluid was not red or purple; it was a dark green. It wove its way up his neck to his brain invading its lower quarter in a web of darkness with tentacles that poked deeper in. For all appearances, it was a green weed winding its way into Ron's scull.

Try as he might, Ron couldn't touch it. "Take it out Harry! Take it out!" he yelled clawing at his neck.

"Cresco!" Harry whispered and Ron's form, fully clothed, reappeared. Ron's fingers were bloody. He had torn at the scar on his neck. His collar was red, and the wound was seeping blood. Harry grabbed Ron's arms and pulled them to his side. He held Ron's eyes in his. "You've got to come with me Ron." His words were firm and direct, but Ron tried to pull away.

"I can't go," he said shaking his head madly. "I won't go!" he yelled. But Harry held tight to his arms as Ron backed against the wall.

"We've got to do this, Ron," Harry whispered. "I want to help you."

"Liar!" Ron snapped. "You hate my guts, Potter!" But Harry was undeterred.

"No more lies, Ron, remember?" Holding Ron by the shoulders against the wall, Harry closed his eyes and opened his mind.

A picture flashed of the first time Harry and Ron met on the Hogwarts Express... a film played of their flight in the Ford Anglia... Harry stood horrified watching as Ron was pulled into the Whomping Willow... they were in the Ministry as the brain wrapped around Ron while Harry chose to run hoping the Death Eaters would take him instead. There were many visions Ron could see in Harry's mind, but the most plentiful were those of the two of them together... just friends. The projections stopped and Ron slumped onto an old wooden chest, his hands in his face.

"I... I can't do this anymore, Harry," he choked into his hands. "I've got to end it."

"Then come with me," Harry said, lifting Ron back to his feet. "Trust me Ron. I won't let them turn you into a lab rat." He pulled Ron's hands down and looked up into his eyes again. "I swear."

Finally, Ron nodded and rubbed his face again taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Harry." Together, the two walked down the corridor to the hospital wing to visit Madame Pomfrey. A very pretty fifth year from Hufflepuff ran past them going the other direction. She was a new student, and Harry remembered her at the sorting, but they didn't share any classes.

"You know, Ron," said Harry, as they both looked back over their shoulders. "If you ask around, I think you might manage a few dates this week."

"Why's that?" Ron asked, suddenly swerving to avoid running into a pillar.

"Well, you were naked in front of the whole class. It won't be long before word gets out about your special attribute, and the ladies start lining up at your door." Ron flamed bright red.

"Would you stop," said Ron, shoving Harry on the shoulder and laughing. For the first time in a long time, Harry laughed with him. When they arrived at the doors to the hospital ward, Ron was in a better mood, but still apprehensive. For a moment, he hesitated.

"You have my word," Harry whispered. With that, Ron pushed the doors open, and they walked in.

"Harry! Ron!"

The voice wasn't that of Madame Pomfrey; it was Cho Chang.