Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 39 - A Loss of Self

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It was late, very late, but candles flickered all about the common room. The rhythmic tick-tock of the Yorkshire oak grandfather clock was starting to lull Harry to sleep. The fire was warm and his eyes were heavy. He could not remember ever being this tired, and for a moment he considered just resting his head on his arms. But no sooner had he laid down his quill than Hermione, without saying a word, poked him in the ribs. Ron flipped open another book about Muggles and, shaking his head, let out a hapless sigh. Indeed, the room was filled with wretched faces silently reading, or scrawling on their parchments. Every so often, there would be a hushed whisper, a cough, or the occasional snore. Parvati had left an hour earlier in tears, cursing that it wasn't fair.

Two weeks had passed since Luna's abduction and despite the many student complaints, Professor McGonagall had decided the best way to keep their minds on their education was exams. Each class was to have an end-of-term test. Students in each N.E.W.T. were required to pass the test in order to proceed with the class the next term. Hermione thought it a smashing idea and had to be repeatedly reminded not to whistle while the rest of Gryffindor crammed for their upcoming exams.

Surprisingly, only a handful of parents had removed their children from Hogwarts. There had been scattered incidents of terror all about Great Britain and Western Europe, and the threat of something yet more serious made Hogwarts seem the safest place. It was clear, however, that many students were told by their parents to stay away from Harry. The general feeling was that if you got too close, you might wind up a target, and despite Harry's isolation, it was a hypothesis that he shared. He preferred that his friends stay distant and safe, but Hermione and Ron were steadfast in their support and they were constantly seen at Harry's side.

The worst of Harry's exams tomorrow, he knew, would be Potions. Professor Snape had grown increasingly agitated over Harry's newfound ability to mix the required concoctions with ease. By remaining calm and with a few secret pointers from Malfoy, Harry was performing as well or better than any student in the class. Still, he was sure that Professor Snape would be out for blood, and Harry wasn't going to give him the opportunity. At least, that's what he thought four hours ago when he would normally be crawling into bed, laying his head to pillow and clearing his mind of all thought. Now, well past midnight, his mind was too tired to focus on much of anything

His eyelids dipped low again, and a flickering vision of Voldemort danced across the darkness. So often as he fell asleep Harry considered reaching out to Voldemort with his mind, but each time his thoughts turned to Dumbledore who, everyone knew by now, was near death. Harry would not forget his promise to the Headmaster, particularly after what happened last year. So, he redoubled his efforts at Occlumency. He and Ron worked together as Ron would try to enter his mind and Harry would push him away. Ron had achieved a much great acumen at focusing his mental attacks, occasionally finding paths around Harry's defenses. Once, Ron saw a vision of Malfoy smoking a cigarette before Harry cut him off. Ron's face furled hoping for an explanation, but Harry gave none, and staying true to their agreement before they started, Ron didn't ask. Now the redhead held the same scrunched up face as he peered into his book on Muggles. Ron slammed the book closed, popping Harry's eyes fully open.

"That's it," Ron hissed, standing and stretching to the ceiling. "I don't care what the proper process is for obtaining a valid driver's license! Can you imagine Harry, I've been driving for years and I'm not eligible for even a provisional permit until I'm... er..." Ron reached for the book again.

"Seventeen," Harry replied.

"Right! Seventeen!" he called out to Hermione hoping that she might agree that waiting such a long time was insanity. But, garnering no support, he turned back to Harry. "How'd you know that?"

"I've got mine," said Harry as he reached into his jeans, pulled out his wallet, and withdrew the plastic card. "Not a very good picture, but then I was... erm, not well." Hermione snapped it from his hands.

"Harry, that can't be real," she said indignantly, glancing down at the card with his picture. "It says you're seventeen. But you're not... you can't..." Harry took the card back and looked at his picture.

"Don't be silly," he whispered, and with a thin smile he closed his potions book. "You're right, Ron. We're as good as done. Let's go to bed."

"But you haven't even reviewed your dragon scale potions, Harry!" Hermione whispered back. The three were starting to get some glowers from about the room. "And what about Basic Aparation? You've only..."

"Good night, Hermione," Ron interrupted, and before she could say another word, both he and Harry were headed for the stairs.

When Harry finally collapsed into bed, Ron reminded him to clear his mind, and he nodded. But his mind wasn't on exams or abductions. It was turned fully to Little Whinging. Just last night Hedwig had returned with another letter from Gabriella. Harry reached his hand under his pillow and read it once again.

Harry,

The nights grow cold and seem to last forever. I can't believe only one more week and I'll see your face again. I miss you so. Mama has been filled with excitement for the holiday. Usually she breaks out in a grand smile, and in those moments I know she's with me. But lately she seems to be growing more agitated. I know it's not what I dreamed of last summer, but nothing is ever what we dream.

I saw your aunt yesterday and she said that she was well aware that you would be returning for the holiday, and would I please mind my own business. They've been loading the place up with presents, but I don't imagine any are for you. Don't worry though. I have a special present all my own -- I hope you like surprises! Have you solved the riddle yet?

I woke up this morning, and the air was silent. There was a layer of snow covering Privet Drive and it seemed to magically turn the world into a whisper. It's my first time in the snow, at least that I remember. I don't know what I was expecting, but for a moment I forgot all my cares and dreamt of sitting here at the fire with you at my side. Maybe you can make one of my dreams come true!

Love,

Gabriella

Harry folded the paper and tucked it under his pillow. Ron was already snoring when Harry waved his hand and extinguished the candlelight. In the darkness, he held the same hand to his face and, in that instant, considered reaching out to Voldemort. But inside a voice whispered, "Don't be silly," and Harry rolled to his side, cleared his mind, and fell asleep.

When Harry and Hermione arrived for the potions exam the following day, they were both surprised to see Professor McGonagall standing at the front of the class. Snape had never missed a class in all the years Harry had been at Hogwarts. After everyone had filtered in, she raised her hands to silence the murmurs.

"Professor Snape," she said in a strong clear voice, "could not be here this morning to administer your exam. He asked that I present you with the following problem." She waived her wand at the board and there appeared a list of some twenty questions that ended in a practicum: Create a draught capable of healing severe burns.

"Oh no," Marietta muttered. "That's over ten ingredients."

"It's not so bad," consoled Cho who was sitting at her side. "Just remember to..."

"Silence!" Professor McGonagall called out. "You will answer the questions on fewer than two scrolls AND complete the concoction within the allotted two hours beginning... now." She turned a large sand-dial over and the grains began to fall, far too quickly for Harry's liking. In his mind, Marietta was right, twelve ingredients was only half the battle. Each had to be specially prepared and when they had attempted the potion in class originally, no one finished on time. Harry glanced around the room. Malfoy was already scribbling furiously on his first sheet of parchment. Harry took a deep breath and began.

Malfoy was the first to finish, making far too much noise as he stoppered up his potion and walked forward presenting it to Professor McGonagall. Hermione was a close second. They both began to leave when Professor McGonagall stopped them.

"Please remain quietly in your seats until everyone is dismissed," she whispered. Hermione nodded, but Malfoy groaned.

"But Professor," he whined, "I've finished the bloody potion. What more could there possibly be?"

"Please return to your seat, Mr. Malfoy," replied Professor McGonagall. Her voice was tight and her eyes cool. Harry had never quite seen her like this, except perhaps, last year with Professor Umbridge. An inexplicable sense of dread began to fill him from the inside as he carefully crushed the last ingredient. He needed ten minutes to brew the potion and he only had about twelve left. Quickly, but carefully he began to add the ingredients in his cauldron, slowly stirring one way and then the other. A few more students stepped forward with there work, including Cho and Marietta. A bead of sweat dropped down the side of Harry's face. His hands were wet and as he reached for a bottle to fill with his potion, the glass slipped from his hands and shattered to the floor. With his wand he reassembled it, filled it, placed the cork and handed it to Professor McGonagall with about ten grains of sand to spare.

There were three students still working when Professor McGonagall called time, and one of them was Anthony Goldstein.

"I'll take your parchments now," Professor McGonagall said to those still working, "but leave your potions where they are."

"But why?" Anthony called out. "It's nearly done. I should get partial credit."

"According to Professor Snape, who left strict instructions, credit is only given to fully successful potions and what you have there will be utterly useless."

"Successful?" Hermione choked. Professor McGonagall's face turned sour and lost a bit of colour, but she seemed resolute.

"Each of you will receive a burn on your forearm. After which you will take the potion to determine its success."

"But..." started Cho.

"If your potion fails, I have prepared my own here." Professor McGonagall turned to a dozen potion bottles at the desk behind her.

"She's not expecting much success, is she?" Harry whispered in Hermione's ear. She just shook her head.

"He's vicious is what he is," she replied through gritted teeth. Malfoy stepped forward and bared his right forearm.

"I'll be happy to go first, Professor," he said with an air of smugness. Professor McGonagall simply shook her head.

"Very well," she whispered. She reached for his right arm, but he pulled it away offering up his left. Holding the arm in her hand, she pointed her wand directly at the soft portion of his forearm. "Incenditto!" she spoke softly. A small blast of flame erupted from the tip of her wand and Malfoy jerked away. Grinding his teeth, he refused to scream as he grabbed his potion and swallowed in one gulp. Instantly, the charred blisters began to fade and in only a few seconds, his arm was perfectly healed.

"Very good, Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall congratulated. "You may go."

"Oh no, Professor," he smirked, "I have to watch this." And he sat up on one of the desks to get a clearer view of the practical exam. By the time Harry's turn came, some eight students had failed. Besides Malfoy, only Cho and Hermione were successful at removing the burn from their arms. Hermione had squealed in pain, but Cho simply grimaced. When Marietta's potion failed, she began to scream in panic. It took some moments before she came to her senses and took the potion from McGonagall.

As Harry stepped forward, a sudden panic overcame him. "Dragon scales," he thought suddenly to himself. "I forgot the dragon scales." His heart began to race as Professor McGonagall also reached for Harry's right arm, but he too turned and presented his left. "I've failed the N.E.W.T.," he whispered out loud. His future began to play in his mind and he imagined Snape smirking over him at the beginning of next semester and telling him to leave his class. All hope of becoming an Auror came crashing down.

Professor McGonagall slid his robe back exposing the arm, but no sooner had she raised her wand than his right arm began to prickle. When she cast the spell, instead of grabbing for his left arm like so many had done before, he buckled to his knees holding his right. On the floor, he simply dropped his head and cursed. "How could I have been so stupid?"

"Look at him squirm," Malfoy drawled.

"Take your potion, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said handing him his vial. Knowing it would fail, he popped the liquid down his throat and took to his feet. He began to walk to the desk to get one of Professor McGonagall's potions, when her words stopped him in his tracks.

"Very good, Mr. Potter," she said. "That healed far faster than any of the others. You may leave if you so wish." Harry looked down at his left arm. The flesh was un-blistered, not even red. With his left hand, he reached under his robe to his right forearm, which was, as he expected, raised with the scar he knew too well.

"A protection charm," he thought. Not wanting to watch any other students suffer, he turned to get his things only to find Malfoy sitting upon his desk. Harry slipped his cauldron and other tools into his bag, and was starting to leave when Malfoy noticed that on a strip of paper at his side were four precisely cut dragon scales.

"Hey Potter, wait up," he called and followed him out of the classroom. "Missing something?" Malfoy held up the paper with the scales on it. "I don't suppose you cut these up as extras, considering we were so pressed for time. So that means you didn't use them, and yet, your potion worked. Tell me, how is it that..." Harry stopped short in the hallway, stepped close to Malfoy, and held his right arm out to show him the scar.

"I told you," Harry said. "It comes and it goes. Somehow it healed the burn on my other arm." Malfoy began to smirk with a knowing expression.

"Then, Harry," he said stepping closer, "you've given me a very special gift." He paused for a moment. "I added the drendle wings before the cypress leaves. My potion shouldn't have worked either." He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "A special gift... and if I'm not mistaken, I believe it's been growing stronger," he drawled, and then strode ahead on up the stone steps and out of sight. No sooner had he disappeared than Hermione was at Harry's side.

"That was just dreadful," she whispered sliding a parchment into her pack.

"He's never missed a class, Hermione, never. We haven't seen Tonks in two weeks and now Snape's missing." Hermione simply shook her head.

"If Professor Sinistra says Tonks is okay, then..."

"Would you stop that?" Harry snapped back. "When will you realize that they're lying, you're ALL lying!" They stopped in the hall and Harry stepped close. "Don't deny it, Hermione," he hissed through gritted teeth, anger gurgling throughout his insides. "You're in on it up to your neck. Both you and Ron, I'm sure, are having a grand old time!"

"Ron doesn't know," Hermione said quietly, looking down.

"What?" Harry asked taken aback. Hermione looked at him and her eyes moistened.

"I said he doesn't know, Harry. He can't know." Her words seemed to have no effect. Harry just stared at her blankly. She blinked and wiped her face with the cuff of her robe.

He stood there for a long time wondering what, exactly, she was getting at. For two weeks a question had been gnawing at his insides. For two weeks, they had studied side-by-side and Harry couldn't help but wonder if maybe.... "Surely Ron would see... would know," he told himself, but that wasn't enough. Now, hearing her words... he could bare it no longer.

"Hermione," he asked, "where were you when Luna disappeared?" An innocent question, but he new she'd take it for how he meant it. There was no way around that. Instantly, her own face flushed with anger. She stepped toward him and her eyes, now clear and defiant, blazed with such fury he almost reached for his wand.

"How dare you!" she yelled stabbing him in the chest with her finger. The pain jolted him backwards into the wall. "Everyone turns their back on you, while Ron and I have spent every minute of every day watching yours. Six years of risking my neck to keep yours safe and you think..." She groaned and turned to leave, but Harry grabbed her cloak.

"Keep me safe?" he yelled back. "I don't need you, or anybody else to keep me safe! I didn't see you when I was facing Voldemort in the dungeons. I didn't see you there when I was bitten by the Basilisk!" He was advancing on her now. She'd seen him angry before, but never like this. "Where were you while I was dueling Voldemort? Where were you when he tried to possess me?" Hermione took another step back. "You can keep your bloody neck safe and sound. You and Ron and... and... whoever, can keep your secrets. I don't need your help, or anyone else's." This time it was Harry who started to storm off. "Draco was right!" were the last, unsettling words she heard.

That night, Harry skipped dinner choosing instead to wander aimlessly about the great castle. It was getting late, he was tired, and he was beginning to regret his words to Hermione. Convincing himself he would apologize, he started for the common room, but half way there it suddenly became the last place he wanted to be. He needed to be with friends and tonight Gryffindor tower was not it. Knowing he'd be scolded, and without his cloak, he plunged into the frigid night air to visit Hagrid. The latest storm had laid down half a foot a fresh snow, and as he crunched through the powder he left behind the only visible set of tacks leading the way to Hagrid's cabin. Smoke billowed from the chimney and the candlelight flickering inside brought hope that Hagrid would still be within. He'd visited twice before during the school year, only to find the cabin empty. When he knocked this time, again there was no answer. Nothing stirred save the rumbling snores of Hagrid's dog Fang.

Harry went around to peek in through the windows, but the frost had made that impossible. Undaunted, he decided to try the back door. The night was cold and still, and the muffled sound of his footsteps brought up a faint memory, familiar and distant, that he couldn't quite place. Once at the back door, he pounded again, and again there was no answer. He sighed and turned to leave when he noticed the snow. Leaving the back entrance of Hagrid's cabin were two sets of footprints that extended some twenty feet, only to disappear into the darkness. One set was clearly Hagrid's, the other set were those of a horse. "F-Firenze?" Harry whispered as his teeth began to chatter.

Knowing he shouldn't be out and knowing that two students had already been taken from the school grounds, Harry pulled out his wand. He glanced toward the castle which was brightly lit and glittering with ice-crystals and then he peered into the darkness that turned toward the Forbidden Forest. "Just go back," he whispered to himself shivering, only to find his steps leading toward the darkness. Half way to the forest, it was growing increasingly difficult to follow the tracks. "Lumos," he whispered and his wand gave off a gentle glow. Ten yards into the forest, however, the tracks disappeared. Harry searched everywhere, but could find nothing. Still, something was drawing him further into the trees. He peered into the darkness, but his senses began to take hold and he chose, hesitantly, to return to the warmth of school. After only three paces, a voice stopped him in his own tracks.

"Harry Potter! What are yeh doin' out this time o' night? If professor Dumbledore knew you was sneakin' about, he'd have yer hide!" Harry turned to see Hagrid striding toward him out of the darkness, the giant's footsteps crunching across the snow. Looking at Hagrid, Harry smiled, but no smile was returned. The half-giant grabbed him by the arm and lifted him from the ground. "Come with me," he said sternly. Hanging in midair Harry watched as the darkness faded behind them and the lights of the castle grew nearer. But to Harry's relief, they weren't headed to the castle, they were headed to Hagrid's cabin.

"This'll do fer now," Hagrid grumbled. Still holding Harry suspended in the air, he lifted the heavy iron latch on his back door and threw it open. Fang quickly greeted him and began to jump up as if Harry was some sort of morsel or doggie snack. "Down with yeh, dog!" Hagrid snapped. Harry had never seen Hagrid show any sign of temper, except when he was being blasted with stunners last year, and he was feeling a bit frightened. Hagrid dropped him in the large leather chair by the fire. "Sit there, while I think a bit." Clearly agitated, he went over and put on a pot for tea. "Do yeh know what might a happened out there? Do yeh know how late it is?" He reached up into the cupboard for some tea and absentmindedly tossed down a golden ring onto the large wooden table near the stove. Unusual, Harry thought, for Hagrid to carry such a precious object. It was a fairly thin ring, about a galleon in size, and for a moment Harry wondered if it might be a wedding ring.

"That's not a..." Harry began, but Hagrid cut him off.

"I'll be askin' the questions tonight Harry," he said more calmly. "Tell me, what did yeh see?"

"Nothing, really," Harry replied.

"I know you better than that, Harry Potter," Hagrid answered, taking the kettle and pouring Harry a cup of tea. "Start with when yeh left the castle and tell me what yeh saw." He walked over and grabbed a large bowl filled with biscuits. Harry was hungry enough to give one a try even if it did require a good soaking first.

"Well, I only saw tracks to the forest. Yours and... Firenze, I guess. He's been spending a lot of time over here at night."

"An' what else?" Hagrid asked again.

"Well... the wedding ring," Harry added. Hagrid just looked confused. "There, on the table," Harry pointed. Hagrid saw the golden band and quickly snapped it back into his hands.

"Yeh shouln't a seen tha'," he grimaced. "Is that all?"

"Why? What's going on? What are you and Firenze..."

"Finish yer tea, Harry, an' I'll walk yeh back to the castle."

Harry took another sip and snapped off a bit of biscuit. Good and wet, they didn't taste half bad. He wanted to press the questions, but Hagrid was clearly on guard. So, after a while, he and Hagrid began talking about other things. Somewhere in the conversation, Harry's mind turned to Quidditch and he began to describe the last match.

"I didn't care much about the money," Harry said. "But it's always better to win," he said with a smile and Hagrid laughed. "Draco played well, that's for sure."

"Draco?" Hagrid asked with a tinge of irritation in his voice. "Yeh mean, Malfoy?" Harry knew at once he'd misspoke. He'd done the same during the match in front of Ron. He simply nodded, stuffing a chunk of biscuit in his mouth.

"I've seen yeh practicing on the pitch with tha' new broom 'o yours," Hagrid interjected. "You've mastered the Caduceus better than Malfoy, any day."

"It flies something wonderful," said Harry brightly. "I know you won't like this, but I took Cho on it over the Forest... all the way to the falls."

"You what?" Hagrid asked raising his voice. "Do yeh know what'd happed to yeh if you'd a fallin' off?" Harry just stayed quiet. He was hoping that, at least with Hagrid, he could just relax, but he was starting to get tense again, almost irritated. And then Hagrid said something unexpected. "Eh...what falls?"

"The great waterfall, pretty much in the center of the forest I figure," he replied expecting Hagrid to know the spot, but the half-giant simply shook his head.

"There ain't no waterfall in the Forbidden Forest, Harry."

"Hagrid, I saw it," said Harry. "The falls fell at least fifty feet through a crevice fed by a stream that wound its way out of the forest. There were a bunch of little pools, all over." Hearing his own words, Harry paused. There was something gnawing at him, but before he could put his finger on it Hagrid answered back.

"Harry, I've been through every inch of the Forbidden Forest and there's no falls."

"Every inch?" Harry quizzed.

"Well, I haven't been to the village of the Centaurs... Terntalag-... ah, you'll have teh ask Firenze what they call it. They'll only let Dumbledore visit there, but he's never mentioned any falls and the village isn't near the forest's heart." Then Hagrid uncharacteristically shuddered. "That's as dark and cold as any place on earth."

Harry finished with his tea and it was getting late. Still, the thought of returning to the Gryffindor common room was daunting. He looked at the frost covered window and then to the back door. "Where is Firenze, anyway?" he asked. Hagrid rose and grabbed a blanket.

"Here, put this on," he said, ignoring Harry's question. "I'll walk yeh back to the castle."

Hagrid escorted Harry to the castle doors, then took his blanket back. "Don't worry 'bout Firenze and me, Harry. We're just makin' sure there's a backup plan, is all."

"Backup plan?" Harry asked. "Backup plan for what?" Hagrid simply smiled and patted Harry on the head.

"Get some sleep, lad," he said gently. "You'll need your energy tomorrow for your tests." Harry furrowed his brow and then remembered. His Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts exams were tomorrow morning and he'd just spent the whole evening on everything but studying.

Quickly, he said goodnight to Hagrid and ran toward Gryffindor tower. There were only a handful of students out this late, most making their way back from the library. Harry ran by one student that grabbed him by his arm and spun him around. It was Seamus Finnigan.

"Hey Harry," he said with a smile, as the fingers in Harry's right arm began to prickle, "what's the rush?"

"Oh... hi, Seamus," Harry answered looking to Seamus and then back in the direction he wanted to head. Harry was in a hurry to do what little studying he could, and his expression made it clear that he wasn't interested in conversation. What right did Seamus have to grab his arm, anyway? Seamus had been more-or-less sequestered with the Ravenclaws for the whole term and now a chance to say a simple hello to his old dorm-mate was being thrown back in his face. He could see the irritation building on Harry's face, and became angry.

"What?" Seamus spat. "Yeh too busy fer yer old dorm-mate? Out a sight, out a mind, eh? Yeh do know I'll be comin' back in a few weeks, although I don't know why I'd want to." Harry wasn't much listening, nor was he thinking; the prickling sensation was working its way up his arm. What right did Seamus have to use that tone of voice? Harry's eyes blinked. He needed to go; he didn't have time for banter.

"Yeah, er, I think Goyle put in a request to stay with Gryffindor. Maybe you could ask to stay with Ravenclaw." Harry patted Seamus on the shoulder. In fact, stay with Ravenclaw. I don't care. Harry turned to walk away. "Really, Seamus, I need to go." Harry began to run down the corridor.

He'd only taken a few strides when he heard Seamus curse something at his back and his arm burst with pain. Bending to another will not all his own, Harry dropped to one knee as a bolt of red light flashed over his head. Normally, he would turn to defend himself and perhaps expel the wand from Seamus' hand, but not this time. This time Harry found himself suddenly consumed with rage. He turned and saw Seamus bearing down on him, wand drawn, and face flush. He was going to cast again, Harry knew that, and he would stop it; he would stop it forever. Harry pulled his wand and a stream of white light instantly struck Seamus in the chest. There was no incantation, only a thought, a thought of hatred toward this enemy, this old enemy. He continued to hold his wand straight at Seamus and the beam of white began to spread around his chest like an electric spider web. Seamus dropped his wand and grabbed for his chest. Harry's eyes were fixed, he saw no friend, only an attacker... an old nemesis that would pay. Seamus began gasping for air.

"H-Harry... stop," he pleaded breathlessly. "I c-can't b-br..." But Harry heard nothing but the unwanted pleas of his enemy hissing his last breath. He stepped closer and the web of light encircled Seamus' chest. Then, from somewhere distant, he heard another voice. It was familiar and growing louder.

"Harry! STOP!" He turned to see Hermione, staring at him with a horrified expression. "STOP! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!" He blinked and the rage ebbed away. His fog of a vision cleared before him, and he saw his friend Seamus twisted in the energy still erupting from his wand. The instant he realized what he was doing, Harry ceased the spell, and Seamus fell to the ground, lifeless. Hermione ran to his side, pulled her wand and a sparkling green light seemed to stream down onto Seamus' face. Instantly, he gasped for air and opened his eyes. Harry started to walk forward to the two on the ground.

"I... I'm sorry," he whispered with a dazed expression. His emotions were sloshing all over the insides of his brain. "I thought he was... I didn't mean to..." he began. "Here, let me help," he offered, but Seamus slid back, away from Harry's advance. "No, Seamus... I swear, I would never..."

"Harry," Hermione cut in crossly, "get out of here. He's afraid of you, and I can't say that I blame him. I'll get him to the hospital wing." Harry just stared, dumbfounded.

"Really, Hermione," Harry offered again. "Let me..." he reached and Seamus recoiled again.

"I said, go!" she yelled.

Finally, it sunk in. He nodded and turned toward the common room. The handful of students who had seen what happened parted in fear to let him pass as he walked down the corridor. The thought of Draco Malfoy crawled into his mind and a cold shiver shot down his spine. What was happening to him? What was he becoming? In that moment, he knew what he must do. Hermione was right; he was a threat to anything and anyone who got too close. It was time for him to go... to leave Hogwarts forever.