Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 40 - The Marauder's Eye

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Hours slipped by as Harry aimlessly wandered the halls of Hogwarts, ever alert to avoid Peeves, Mr. Filtch, and his cat, Mrs. Norris. His mind floated between fear over what was happening to him, guilt over what he'd done to his friends, and anger over what his friends had done to him. He had nearly killed Seamus and, not knowing why, he was still shaking--an echo of the rage he felt when his mind was turned to destruction. If he were to see Mrs. Norris right now, her dust coloured fur would likely become just that--dust.

Since Neville and Luna's disappearance, students were already avoiding him as if he were once again the heir of Slytherin. How much more isolated would he be, if they thought him capable of murdering his own housemate? And his friends... his friends were up to something. Hermione said that Ron didn't know, but Harry was sure the two of them were both working for the Order behind his back. That must be it; otherwise why were they always stopping their conversation when he would come to join them? Why would they suddenly part from each other when he walked into the room? They were planning something together, completely unwilling to let him know. What was it? He went to slug the wall, but stopped himself short. Still, the stone popped and a puff of dust covered his hand. Harry clenched his fist tighter, shaking it in front of his face. Every emotion imaginable was surging through his body, and with each passing moment the need to get back to Gabriella and ensure her safety grew stronger and stronger.

Slowly, he convinced himself that it was utterly pointless to remain at Hogwarts. He had no hope of uniting the houses, even with Malfoy's help -- an alliance with a snake that was more likely to strike with fangs as coil in friendship. Once, passing by the circular staircase to the Headmaster's office, he considered using the password that Professor Dumbledore had given him. But, the fear of what he would find there turned him away. The Headmaster was now struggling for his life because he chose to expend his magical energy to save Harry; the young wizard's mind played the film of his spirit being captured by the green flame. No, there was nothing left for Harry here, and everything waiting for him on Privet Drive. It was so perfectly obvious when he fully committed himself to leave Hogwarts forever.

It was well past curfew when he hastily began to outline his strategy to return home to the girl he loved. His first step would be to run for Hogsmeade. From there, he would take the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley, and from there... well he'd figure it out along the way. Harry quickly made his way to the entrance hall, and slipped through the front doors of the castle. Instantly, he realized his mistake. It was snowing once again. The small flakes gently drifted to the ground, and though there was no wind it was bitterly cold. He had no cloak or covering of any kind, but the very thought of stopping now to return to Gryffindor Tower was anathema. He could get his things later, but trying to escape Hogwarts and make his way back to Little Whinging in this cold with not but a wand was insanity. Remembering back to the Tri-Wizard tournament, he quickly ran to the bottom of the steps and held out his hand; he would fly.

"Accio C-Caduceus!" he called out shivering. On his broom he would stay warm. On his broom he would quickly return to her. Thoughts of Gabriella swept into his mind, and the sudden exhilaration that he would soon be leaving quickened his pulse. Shaking miserably in the cold, he scanned the skyline searching for his broom. He saw nothing, so reached for his wand to call for it once again. As he slipped the wand out, an object caught his eye from the north -- a darkness was approaching fast. "F-Finally," he whispered through chattering teeth. Staring through the snow, however, he realized that the object heading his way was too big for a broom. Indeed, as it sped closer, the outline of a man-sized figure became visible. He turned facing the attacker and, hand shaking, held his wand high as the dark outline bore down on him. Harry was ready to cast a spell when, about ten feet in front of him, the broom stopped short and through the snow the figure came into view.

"Well, that's twice I've had your wand in my face. It's starting to get a bit annoying really." In a heavy black cloak untouched by the falling snow because he was flying on Harry's Caduceus sat Remus Lupin. "You know, Harry, if I had enough galleons, I think this would be my next major purchase." Remus patted the broom's shaft. "That, or a nice set of robes. Maybe you'd give me a turn to fly her on my own sometime."

Harry furled his eyes looking for someone else. He scanned the skyline for a hint that this was some sore of ambush, but only the sprinkling snow could be seen, and only the sound of Harry's teeth and Lupin's voice could be heard.

"Your father, of course, was the famous Chaser of Gryffindor, but I wasn't half bad on a broom... for a werewolf." Remus swung his left leg off the broom and landed both feet into the soft snow. Still holding tight to the broom with his hand, he waited.

Harry, at first, was relieved. His mind had any number of horrible creatures plummeting toward him out of the darkness, but for some reason he continued to hold his wand up high. Still, Remus continued to smile completely unconcerned about his clearly disadvantaged position.

"But, how?" Harry asked. "There's no way..."

"Oh, I think there is, Harry," said Remus, stepping ever so slightly closer. "Seamus has been in hospital for hours now, and when you didn't show up in the common room, I figured you'd try to run."

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Harry snapped. "He shot at me first!"

"Hold on, Harry. Take a breath," said Remus calmly. "Nobody's saying you did anything wrong. Well, not too wrong. Seamus is going to be fine. Try to relax."

"Then w-why are you here?" asked Harry, suddenly realizing he was frightfully cold.

"Like I said, I figured you'd bolt, and the best way for you to do that is right here in my hand."

"Excellent j-job, Sh-Sherlock!" Harry stammered, slipping his wand back into his sleeve. "N-Now, let me have my b-broom, and I'll be on my way!" This time, Harry took a step forward. In less time than a blink, Remus effortlessly slipped out his wand and held it on Harry.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Harry," he said, continuing to maintain an affable smile. "Sorry for this," he nodded at his wand, "but I can't have you waving your hand at me and knocking me away, now, can I?" Harry's eyes narrowed, and a sense of rage began to build inside once again. "Yes, that's exactly the look, Harry," said Remus, the smile flickering from his face, "and that look doesn't belong to you. It's Voldemort's I believe and I thought we might have a go and try to remove it." Harry was confused, and angry, but he wasn't yet foolish enough to raise a finger let alone a wand, not on Remus.

"You're c-crazy!" Harry cried. "Voldemort has n-nothing to do with this! Now LET GO!" Harry stepped closer, reaching for his broom, and in the same instant Remus flicked his wand. Instantly, Harry's feet froze into place as if they were stuck to the ground with glue.

"Sorry about that," Remus said calmly. "You do look cold, Harry, and your broom here is keeping me quite warm with just my touch. I'll tell you what, let's make a deal. If you promise no funny business, you can touch your broom and we can talk out here, or we can go back into the castle."

Harry hesitated. There was no way he'd return to the castle. "Wait for an opportunity," he thought to himself, and he nodded his head in agreement. "I p-promise," he stammered. Remus stepped closer and let Harry take hold of the broom's tip. Immediately, Harry was filled with warmth and the droplets of ice on his glasses began to melt. "Thanks," he whispered reluctantly.

"Sorry, no hot chocolate, but I have something better," Remus began to grin again. "I've been looking for you all day, Harry. There's someone who wants to talk to you, but I'm not sure that, in the state you're in, you can be civil." Harry glanced around the bottom of the steps. He still couldn't move his feet and an uneasy feeling began to gurgle within his stomach. He glanced once again to the sky. Remus had just mentioned Voldemort, and the thought brought Harry's hand close to his wand.

"Harry," Remus chided, "please, put your hand down." Unwillingly, Harry obliged. "You're in no danger, Harry, but I do need to know you're in the right frame of mind. Just take a moment and clear your thoughts." Remus' voice was calm and even, and Harry's pulse began to slow. If someone, or something were trying to penetrate his mind, Remus was right, Occlumency would wipe it clean. But to do that, Harry would have to clear his mind of the here and now. He would forget the moment, exposing himself completely to attack.

"How do I know you're Remus?" he asked.

"Because I know about the scar on your forearm. I know what you saw above the pitch as Dumbledore spent himself to bring your life-force back. I know... I know that if I were to drop my wand right now, you'd take this broom and fly home to Gabriella."

Hearing her name, Harry smiled and a warmth swept away the chill in his bones. And then, without saying another word, he closed his eyes and let each thought drift away. The argument with Hermione, the fight with Seamus, the thought of Dumbledore dying in his study, the fear of Remus standing before him, everything slipped from his mind into nothingness. His eyes still closed, he heard Remus' voice as if in a distant dream. "Okay, you can show yourself."

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes, and awoke anew -- the fear, guilt and anger had washed away. Then he saw, sitting sidesaddle on the Caduceus, a familiar face -- Dobby. His eyes were wide and worried, glancing from side-to-side, searching to see if someone or something might be coming through the whiteness of the snow.

"Dobby!" cried Harry with a sudden burst of joy. He tried to take a step and realized, too late, his feet wouldn't move and toppled over. Releasing the broom, a cold blast of air sent shivers down his spine. He dusted off the snow and tried to stand. When he couldn't, Remus released the spell without saying a word, but still kept his wand at the ready. Harry stood, took the broom's tip, and the warmth returned.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said eagerly bowing on the broom as best he could. "It is good to see the great Harry Potter still... alive." The house elf's face was sallow and his body thin, perhaps not worse than when Harry had seen him last, but certainly no better. On his right arm was a filthy wrap -- a bandage of some sort. Again, Dobby bent his head low. "Dobby has failed, sir."

"Remus, we need to get him inside," Harry pleaded with concern. "He needs..."

"He needs to talk to you, Harry," Remus cut in, "and you need to listen." As Dobby had done, Remus glanced into the falling snow where visibility was only a few feet. "But you're right; this is no place for discussion. We need shelter, and I think I know just the place." Remus threw his leg over the broom. "Jump on, then." Harry hesitated. "No, Harry, I won't take you back; I promise."

Finally, Harry mounted the broom behind Remus and the three were flying toward the castle tower. Harry remembered meeting Ron's brother, Charlie, at the tower top, handing him Norbert, Hagrid's pet dragon. But the three didn't fly to the castle top. Instead, they stopped against the tower's wall some fifteen feet down from the top. There were no windows, only stone. Remus glared intently through the snow. Before Harry could ask what he was doing, Remus called out.

"There it is!" he said excitedly.

Remus pointed at a small red stone, no larger than a galleon, hidden among the large, gray, rough hewn block of the castle walls. He pulled his wand and whispered. "It's well past midnight, we swear it's true. Open up and let us through." The red stone began to grow larger, as were the large rocks surrounding it. The castle was becoming enormous! Then, Harry realized that the stones weren't growing... they were shrinking. Soon a large, red cavern was before them.

"You might want to close your eyes for this," suggested Remus with a grin. The broom plunged forward and it felt as if they were passing though the center of a large watermelon. There was a tearing, slurping sensation, and they emerged on the other side into a large circular room. Pillows in Gryffindor colors scattered the floor interspersed with dusty glass bottles that Harry was sure were meant to hold something stronger than butterbeer. On the walls hung old posters of Quidditch teams. There were four chairs facing a large open area. Against the wall was a desk strewn with parchment and to the far side two cots, one bare and the other covered with a torn red and gold comforter.

The three dismounted the broom. For a moment Harry gawked as Remus set the broom to the side of what now looked like a large red curtain. Instinctively, Dobby began picking up the pillows and vanishing the empty bottles.

"Where are we?" Harry asked. Remus smiled looking around the room.

"1977," he breathed, "in the Marauder's Eye. We'd sneak up here after midnight to watch replays of Monday's Quidditch matches. From here we watched the Cannons lose to the Magpies, the Kestrels lose to... well, everybody. Pettigrew was the Cannons fan."

"Don't tell Ron," said Harry sourly, looking at an old poster of the Broadmoor brothers flying for the Falcons. "Now I know why Scabbers always sat in Ron's lap when he'd read about the Cannons."

Remus walked over to the four chairs and tapped his wand on a short black pillar. In the open area, appeared an exact replica of a Quidditch match. The Tornados were playing the Wanderers. Harry had never seen anything quite like this before. It was as if they were actually sitting in the stands. One of the Tornado Chasers scored and the entire room exploded with cheers rumbling the very floor.

"That game was last week," Harry gawked. Remus tapped the pillar again. A different match appeared: Terrence Tellman was flying for the Montrose Magpies. "That was today!" Harry exclaimed. Tellman spun his broom in a loop that Harry had never seen before. "Damn, he's brilliant," admired Harry.

"You can watch the games live too, but they're usually over by this time of night." Remus looked at Dobby who was now straightening the papers on the desk. "Dobby, please stop and rest. We have much to talk about." Remus tapped the pillar and the figures disappeared. Harry turned to get Dobby when a photo in a gold frame caught his eye. A young woman with brilliant green eyes and wearing red robes smiled back. Behind her were two kids with scruffy hair that Harry remembered seeing from his visit into Snape's memory. He picked the photograph from off the desk and stared not saying a word. Slowly, still holding the frame, he sat down upon one of the pillows lying on the floor. Remus sat down beside him.

"Merlin, we were young," Remus whispered. "Peter took this picture on one of our Hogsmeade outings. It was the first time Lilly said "Yes" to James, and he was beside himself on what to do. You'll never find another picture of him wearing a tie." The two wizards laughed. "It was the only time I ever saw James nervous about anything, except when you were born." Remus smiled broadly and ruffled Harry's hair. "But that's another story," he said with a grin. "Dobby, it's time you tell Harry what you told me." The house elf turned the stack of papers so that its edge aligned perfectly with the edge of the desk. When he turned to look at Harry and Remus side-by-side on the floor, his eyes were full of apprehension. Slowly, he approached Harry, not looking at him, but around him. Then, he stopped and bowed low.

"Dobby has failed, Harry Potter, sir," he spoke in a high, soft voice. "There is no cure." Dobby reached out his hand and held it just off of Harry's shoulder and then he shuddered. "Yes, Professor Lupin, sir, it has grown stronger."

"I don't understand," Harry said, exasperated. "You look at me like I'm going to die. It's a protection charm. How can that be bad?" Dobby looked up as if to speak, but then burst out crying, grabbing a pillow and blowing his nose.

"Yes, Harry," Remus said in a level voice, "it is a protection charm, but there are two things at work here. First, the charm was not meant for you; from what Dobby has told me, it was meant for a Muggle."

"But why would wizards cast protection charms on Muggles?" Harry asked.

"Not for the altruistic reasons you might think, Harry," Remus sighed. "During the Middle Ages, many of the kings of the time were wizards, or had wizards as their councilors. When they would go into battle, the wizard would place a charm on his troops hoping that they might live to fight another day. Countless soldiers of the Ottoman Empire were given the charm and plunged into battle believing they were invincible. More often than not, they lost their lives in attempts at misguided valor. Their Wizengamot at the time decided that such spells violated their code of ethics and banned the charms in the early thirteenth century. Other Wizengamots around the world soon adopted similar restrictions. Of course, the use of such spells went underground, often being placed on Muggle assassins by various dark wizards through the ages. They were also used on Muggle bodyguards to act as a first, expendable, line of defense to protect valuables or family members." Still seated at Harry's side, Remus paused, considering his words carefully.

"Harry, on wizards or witches these dark charms don't work properly. They become confused about what they want to protect, about what is valuable to them, and soon see threats everywhere. Often, they cause the wizard to believe that all living things are adversaries... attackers that must be slain. Inappropriately charmed wizards were known to turn on their own troops in battle, slaughtering thousands."

"Seamus," Harry whispered.

"It's possible that last year Voldemort placed the charm on you hoping that you would turn on your own friends at Hogwarts, or perhaps even Professor Dumbledore. Which brings me to the second bit of magic at play: the charm is getting stronger. I believe it grows so with each visit you have with Voldemort. Until now, your own positive energy has fought off its effects, but the darkness of Voldemort's soul is somehow seeping in and making you more vulnerable. He knows this Harry... he must." Remus tried to speak with confidence, but his words were mixed with uncertainty, an uncertainty that did not pass Harry's notice. Harry turned his wrist over and examined the soft skin of his forearm. His pulse began to quicken and he shook his head. Somehow, this didn't make sense. He stood and backed away from Remus and Dobby.

"So you think I'm mad and going to kill everybody at Hogwarts?" said Harry growing angry again. "Is that it? Well? IS IT? It's... it's not me that's mad, Remus. You are!" Remus stood shaking his own head.

"Harry, you don't understand," he said calmly, walking closer to Harry.

"Stay away from me!" Harry shouted, holding up his hand. A faint blue light shot from his palm and struck Remus in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

"Stop, Harry Potter, sir! Stop!" Dobby cried out. "You mustn't harm your friends!" Remus rose to one knee and took in a deep breath.

"Harry," he breathed again, "your new powers, they might be part of it. I don't know, but we need to find out. We need to see if we can have it removed." At his words Dobby looked away and Harry caught the glance. His eyes narrowed.

"You can't! Dobby already said there's no cure. You can't remove the charm, can you Remus?"

"We have to try, Harry. Before... before we lose you." At these words Harry began to tremble again. He had been ready to die, but not like this, not mad... locked up in St. Mungo's with Gilderoy Lockhart. Still holding his hand toward Remus, Harry turned to the house elf.

"Dobby, who did this to me!" Harry yelled, but the house elf simply dropped his head and sighed. "DOBBY!"

"Dobby has been many places," the house elf began with a weak and dejected voice. "Dobby has spoken to many friends and many enemies," he said, glancing down at the bandage on his right arm. "All who heard of the great Harry Potter spoke freely." Dobby walked toward Harry, again looking all about the young wizard as if examining something just inches from his skin. Holding out his hand he narrowed his eyes. "Dobby was right, Harry Potter, sir. This charm is a dark charm and it is from far away. Dobby listens and now Dobby knows. The great dark lord Pravus taught it from his castle west of the Caspian Sea centuries ago. Those who followed the ways of Pravus were killed in the Great Purge, the same time the Great Wizard Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald. The handful of remaining survivors are scattered across the globe. Dobby has failed Harry Potter. All Dobby knows is that no wand can cast the spell. The wizard must be touched to make the mark."

"That information might be enough to help us remove it, Dobby," Remus declared excitedly, but then his face fell, "if Dumbledore were well."

"I won't be sent to the mental ward!" Harry yelled. "I'm going home! Accio Caduceus!" The broom flew into Harry's hand. "I'm going... home," he whispered.

"Are you really that selfish, Harry?" Remus said flatly, but Harry ignored him and mounted his broom. "I thought you loved her." At these words Harry stopped and glared at Remus. "You nearly killed Seamus tonight, Harry. What happens when she grabs your arm and you're not suspecting it? What happens if she laughingly surprises you around a corner? Seamus lived because he's a wizard, Harry. A Muggle girl wouldn't have a chance." Harry began to breathe rapidly, glancing at the red curtain leading to escape. When he reached up and adjusted his glasses, Remus seemed to relax and sat back to the floor.

"What..." Harry searched for the words, "what about Malfoy? I gave him the mark and I think it's working the same way."

"I know, Harry," Remus replied coldly, his voice a bit tight. "We're watching him." Harry furled his brow.

"Watching him?" he asked.

"Bit of a twist, don't you think?" Remus said grimly and the look turned Harry's stomach. "Voldemort curses you in hopes that you'll attack your own, only to find the son of one of his own Death Eaters cursed with the same magic." Remus' face turned dark. "With luck, little Master Malfoy will meet up with his father and the two will play a visit to Auntie Bellatrix. It is Christmas after all. I don't suppose it much matters who wins." Remus stood looking at the photo on the table. "For the last couple days, we've had a house elf following him, just to make sure no accidents occur on school grounds."

"Remus, you can't!" Harry exclaimed. "Professor Dumbledore would never..."

"In case you haven't noticed, Harry, Dumbledore is a bit indisposed," Remus interrupted as he took to his feet. "You, of all people, know what kind of wizards the Malfoy's are. Ginny, Hermione, and countless others would be dead if their dark hearts had their way." His voice was cool, almost icy. "Cedric is dead. Sirius is dead. How many more need to die?"

"Draco didn't have anything to do with that! It was his father."

"I think we both know better. Don't you?"

Harry's mind began to race. It was all too much to take in at one time. One thing was certain; he wouldn't put Gabriella's life at risk again. He jumped off his broom and looked at the eyes staring back at him... werewolf eyes. He needed time to think, but not here, not now. For the first time, he felt that it was all beyond him somehow, spinning out of control, threads of thoughts he couldn't bring together. He needed... he needed Hermione. The last person, Harry thought, he would ever be willing to talk to, and the last person who would be willing to talk to him. Still, he had to try.

"I'll go to hospital tonight for a check, but that's it, no removal. I have exams in the morning. If you can have a house elf following Malfoy, you can have one follow me," Harry said calmly. Remus looked at Dobby and then to Harry. "There's no point trying to remove something that can't be removed. If I'm destined to go mad, so be it." Remus shook his head, no.

"Harry we can't take the risk. We have to..." Harry jumped back on his broom and pointed toward the red curtain. "Okay!" Remus yelled. "But Dobby can't follow you; he needs to rest."

"No, not Dobby," Harry agreed.

Quietly, the three made their way to the hospital wing where, not surprisingly, Madame Pomfrey was waiting. Seamus was sleeping in the bed by the door and the healer ushered Harry down to the far end of the room, pulling a curtain around him. Once Harry was in bed, Remus turned to leave.

"Harry," he said, "you should know that Hermione wants to tell you everything about her recent... activities. But, I've asked her not to. Your link to Voldemort is too strong and there are some things better left unknown. Don't blame your friends, Harry, blame me. Come on Dobby, we need to have you looked at as well." Remus slipped out behind the curtain.

Alone, Harry simply looked up at the ceiling. The room was quiet and warm as he listened to their steps fade off into nothingness. If it was Voldemort behind this curse, Harry wasn't going to give him a second chance. He shut his eyes and began to empty his mind -- soon he was asleep.

When he awoke, the curtains had been pulled open. The room was bright and standing at his bedside was Hermione Granger. Her brown hair hung about her shoulders and she wore an insecure smile.

"Hello sleepyhead," she whispered and reached down to hold Harry's hand. "How are you feeling?" Harry blinked his eyes adjusting to the light and he tried to smile back.

"Fine. What are you smiling about?"

"When you didn't return last night, I thought for sure you'd left. I should have known you would come here to see what was wrong. If I'd have stayed with Seamus longer, I would have seen you, but I wanted to get back to Gryffindor to see if you were okay."

"Seamus," Harry said excitedly, "how is he?"

"Passed me Defense Against The Dark Arts exam, I did. Shame yeh missed it." Standing from a seat at the foot of Harry's bed, Seamus walked over to Harry's side. "Doesn't look too cursed if yeh ask me, Hermione." Harry wasn't sure what to say.

"Remus thought we should know about your... problem," Hermione said tentatively. "And yes, you've slept through till lunch. He said he was passing you on merit and that it would be best if you could rest." Harry sat up, picked his glasses from off the table and slipped them on.

"Seamus, I... I..."

"That's the mark then?" Seamus interrupted with a bit of excitement in his voice. Harry, in a hospital gown, looked down at his exposed arm. There on his forearm was the snake and sword, raised and red.

"Madame Pomfrey's tried everything to remove it," Hermione said. "I'm afraid... well... it's just gotten worse."

"I told them..." said Harry through gritted teeth, but then he took a deep breath. "Yes, Seamus," Harry answered with a solid voice. "That's the mark. I doubt most folks would understand."

"Dean says it's Tibetan," Seamus replied, not really paying much attention to what Harry was saying. Harry started to speak, but Seamus interrupted. "Look Harry, we had a pretty bad go of it last year, and this year wasn't much better. But I'll be damned if I let Voldemort decide who's me friend and who isn't." Seamus held out his hand smiling, and Harry took it. Seamus started for the door whistling a Muggle tune Harry remembered from the summer.

"The Steel Chords?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Seamus answered with a bit of surprise. "Saw 'em in Dublin over the summer; even got the T-shirt." Then he shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Me da insisted he come. It was still great, until someone let off a bomb at a nearby Muggle police station." He shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and walked through the door.

"I hate bombs," said Harry, putting his head back down on his pillow. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence as Hermione stood at Harry's bedside.

"Listen," the two spoke simultaneously.

"You go." Harry smiled.

"No, you," Hermione answered.

"If you want to tell me to bugger off, I'll understand," began Harry, looking down at his hands. Hermione said nothing. "But I... well, I need you. I can't do this by myself. If what they say is right, if I start to go mad... I... Gabriella...." He lost his voice and his eyes began to glisten.

"Shh," Hermione whispered, taking his hand. "We need each other, Harry." She cast a glance at the door and bit her lower lip. "Harry, you said no secrets and I've kept the truth from you for far too long. I can't do it anymore. It's time you knew that I've been..."

"No, Hermione," Harry interrupted. "I don't want to know. I don't think Remus is right, but if he is... if Voldemort's reading my thoughts, I can't know." Hermione tried to speak again, but Harry held up his hand, and she nodded. "You know I'd trust you with my life, right?" he asked, and she smiled back, but Harry's face turned grim and he looked to the ceiling. "I would have killed him, Hermione. I wanted to kill him. If it happens again, you've got to take me down."

"Well, we've taken some steps to make sure that it doesn't happen again."

"A house elf?" asked Harry, casting his eyes around the room. "A house elf won't stop me anymore; you know that."

"Better," Hermione answered. "Madame Pomfrey couldn't remove the charm, but she's placed a blocking spell that will help. If your mind turns to rage, you'll start whistling."

"Like Seamus?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione laughed, "he whistles much better than you ever could." Just then Ron entered the room.

"Hey, mate," he said with a bright smile. "Heard you might be up for lunch." Grinning the whole way, he walked over to Harry's side, then glanced to Hermione. "Has he started whistling, yet?"

"No," said Hermione, smiling back. "Not yet."

"What? Does everybody know?" Harry exclaimed.

"Well," said Ron, "by lunch they will. Sort of a Hogwarts early warning system, Remus figures. You start whistling and we all duck for cover." At first Harry was exasperated, but then a sly smile began to cross his face.

"This could be fun," he said, looking at Ron over the top of his glasses and whistling a few notes.

"That would not be appropriate, Harry Potter," Hermione scowled. Ron just rolled his eyes. "Besides, it's lunchtime. You need to eat and then take your Charms exam, so there isn't much time."

"Charms?" Harry gulped.

"We also, I think, have a few things we need to discuss," said Ron as he gathered Harry's clothes.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "It's time we pulled our heads together. I know he's only looking out for me and all, but I think Remus is wrong. I'd know if this was Voldemort, at least I think I would." Harry sat up on the edge of his bed. "I need your help."

"That's what we're here for, mate," Ron said with a smile. "That's what we're here for."