Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 44 - The Green Flame

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If this were heaven, he would gladly let Voldemort take him right now. The air was filled with the smell of fresh baked bread, cookies, and cakes. Cinnamon and nutmeg filled Harry's senses with hints of garlic and onion from his earlier breakfast. He had already stuffed himself with fried eggs, honey dipped ham, and scallioned potatocakes smothered in a cheese sauce made by the gods, when Soseh pushed half a loaf of sliced banana bread in front of him. It was toasted and spread with whipped honey butter. He couldn't ever remember eating this much, certainly not during the last few months at Hogwarts.

"Go on, Harry," Soseh coaxed, "one more bite. Gabriella was right, you're wasting away!" She set a jar of homemade preserves and handed him a spoon.

It was true that Soseh's mind seemed a bit spotty. When he came through the door this morning she had forgotten his name and, as he passed through the entryway, she neglected to close the front door. Her cooking skills, however, were dead on, and she was still as kind and gentle as she ever was. Her eyes glowed brightly and Harry couldn't help but take the jar of preserves, scoop a large dollop, and spread another slice of banana bread.

"Good... good!" she beamed. "We'll have you among the living in no time! Walking with the dead is no fun at all; is it, Harry?" The words were out of place and he looked at Gabriella whose eyes showed a pang of sorrow. He wondered what perception or memory Soseh was sensing.

After Harry ate to the point of bursting, the couple bundled up and took to Privet Drive for a walk. The streets were free from snow, though a few drifts still remained in shady areas. It was a crystal clear morning, cool and crisp, and their breaths billowed as they spoke. Across the street, the empty Dursley home stood barren of decoration. They were all asleep when Harry arrived home last night and they left before the sun rose in the morning. He heard their hushed whispers until they finally drove away. The only sign that they left behind was a small red envelope that Dudley had slipped under his door. "Merry Christmas, Harry" was scribbled on the outside, and inside was a gift certificate -- twenty pounds towards a purchase at Sunshine Sports. Harry smiled wondering how Dudley would like the box of chocolate frogs he slipped into his suitcase. Then his thoughts slipped back to his summer job and their walk's destination; he definitely wanted to see how Duncan and Emma were doing.

"I'm sorry Papa couldn't be here to greet you, Harry," said Gabriella, breaking Harry's train of thought as they walked along. "He had a conference this weekend, but promised to be back Monday." She slipped her arm in Harry's as they walked toward the park.

"I, er..." Harry began trying to think of what to say. He was glad Grigor was gone, but he couldn't tell Gabriella that; after all, he had sworn not to say. "That's okay... erm, anyway, I don't think your father likes me much."

"That's ridiculous," Gabriella shot back. "He's constantly asking about you."

"And what do you tell him?" Harry asked, wondering if Grigor was trying to keep track on Harry to make sure he kept away from his daughter. The question made Gabriella think of Harry's wizardry and she stopped to look at a large ice sickle dangling from the eve of a nearby roof.

"I swore in front of him that I would never pick up a wand again, Harry. It was I that demanded... begged we live as Muggles. He left everything he was... to please me," she ended with a sigh. "I never dreamed the boy next door would sweep me off my feet and turn out to be a... wizard," she said, whispering the last word. "He knows I still write you," she laughed, "but not how." Gabriella held Harry's arm, leaning her head against his shoulder, and they began to walk again. "I don't think he's been in my room since we arrived here. I still keep some of my brother's things and I believe he feels guilty for not being there when it happened." She stopped and looked into Harry's green eyes. "He still thinks you're a Muggle. All he knows is that you're away at that dreadful school of yours, and... well, he must know that I still love you. It's written all over my face, Mama says." Her eyes twinkled, and Harry couldn't help but kiss her. "Swear to me you won't say a word to him."

"But if he knows I'm a wizard, then maybe..."

"Not yet, not know," she said, and then asked again, "Please swear."

"I swear," he said solemnly, wondering if Grigor might better accept him as a wizard. Perhaps things would be worse, considering the Darbinyan history.

Just then a car turned the corner, its tires hitting a puddle of water where they walked. Instinctively Harry held out his hand, but then stopped as the splash came raining down on the two of them. "Stupid rules," he muttered. They were both splattered in mud and the cold weather forced them to return to change clothes.

"You were going to stop that without a wand, weren't you?" she asked as they walked back home, and Harry nodded. "On the train, you stunned me without a wand as well. A lot of magic for such a young boy," she teased.

"Not so young!" said Harry, gently pinching her side. "I can drive you know." A look of shock spread across Gabriella's face.

"Asha!" she exclaimed. "I nearly forgot." She grabbed him by the hand and began to run. "Come on, come on!" They quickly returned to her house, but instead of going inside they slipped into the garage. There, lit by a bare bulb that hung from the ceiling, was Sirius' bike. Hagrid had completely refurbished it and even in the dim light the chrome seemed to magically glow. Harry swallowed hard, but instead of stepping forward, he stepped back.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Gabriella asked, confused. She wasn't the only one. All the emotions Harry felt from last summer suddenly came rushing in. His heart began to race and beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. He was going to take her away on that bike, to leave the Wizarding world behind. It was the bike that almost killed her. It was the bike on which he rode leaving her dead body behind. He began to shake and Gabriella pulled him close. "It's only a bike, Harry, nothing more." But Harry shook his head.

"No, baby... it's much more," he whispered as his mind began to spin thinking about what had happened over the last few weeks. Then it stopped, fixing on an idea. "We could still do it," he said in a low voice. "Would it be so bad to live as Muggles?" he asked. In an instant she knew where his thoughts were leading and smiled gently.

"And get splashed by mud everyday, when you know you could stop it with the wave of your hand? To sit and read the paper about things you could take a hand in helping? No, Harry, that's not for you; it's written on your heart. You may not have chosen it originally, but you now freely follow the path that leads to Voldemort's defeat." He turned to look into her eyes.

"What about us?" he asked.

"Yes," she said with a sigh, "I know." She dropped her eyes and then brought them back up to meet Harry's. There was a heaviness in her look that carried with it wisdom, and for a moment Harry thought he was looking at Soseh. "I think I knew about you from the first day. What sort of Muggle hangs nearly naked out a window swatting at owls? Then, when your ear was pierced, and the glass shattered, I was certain. My first thought was to tell Mama and Papa. But, I didn't; I didn't need to. I'm sure Mama knows, but Papa... well his head is in the stars and always has been. I had sworn away my gifts on the memory of my dead brother. Was I to deny my oath for a wizard boy I had only known a few weeks?" Her words seemed to rock Harry, but her black eyes still conveyed warmth and love. "So I waited to see where we were going, you and I. At your birthday, I knew you were not an ordinary wizard, but someone with a special heart... a loving heart of all you touched. I think Mama, at least, knew that all along. It was her idea to ensure a special gift made its way to your hand."

"The stone," Harry whispered.

"A very special stone, Harry," Gabriella corrected. "Dudley swore he'd keep its source secret. The women in my family have been its guardians for generations and yet Mama insisted -- the stone was to be yours. Not even Papa knew. By Muggle or wizard, it may be used in similar ways, but only those pure of heart might... no, it's your riddle to solve," she said, stopping herself.

"I... I solved it," Harry said simply. "At least, I think I have." She looked into his eyes with a mixture of exhilaration and disbelief. Then she seemed to gather in her excitement and put her hand firmly to Harry's face with a very serious look on her own.

"Listen carefully," she said. "Where? How? Who? Why?" she asked in an almost rhythmic canter. Was it another riddle or a simple series of questions? Looking at her intense stare, he was sure he couldn't ask for clarification. Unsure of what to say, he opted to answer each directly. He had solved the riddle in his dorm at Hogwarts. Inspired by Goyle's book, he used a fire spell to heat the ball, then holding it in his hand he pricked his finger.

"Were the dragon teeth your idea?" Harry asked with a smile, but her demeanor remained unchanged, her eyes set waiting for the rest of his answer, and so he continued.

He first thought to heal himself, to remove a problem he had, but then chose the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. When he got to her last question, "Why?" he paused. There were any number of people he could have chosen... Ron, Draco, Tonks, Lupin, but only one was near death. Harry wondered if Dumbledore had not been ill, would he have chosen similarly. Finally he said, "Because I was about to lose the only family that I know... a grandfather of sorts that I love dearly."

"And what happened?" she asked, her eyes still intense.

"He joined us for breakfast the next morning, as healthy as I've ever seen him," Harry shrugged. The twinkle flashed in Gabriella's eyes and a smile crossed her face. She reached up and kissed Harry on the neck, hugging him close.

"She sees what others cannot," Gabriella beamed. "I thought it might be the beginning of her problems, but perhaps Mama was right."

"Right about what?" Harry asked. "What is that thing?"

"We are the world all around, Harry," she said slipping his wand from his Jeans' pocket. He reached to take it back, but she playfully held him at bay. "This piece of wood must fit its owner to work properly." She pointed it at a helmet lying on the motorbike's seat. "Al salah!" she commanded, and a silver beam of light struck the helmet and it rose into the air. But a moment later it fell to the floor. "I am useless with your wand," she grimaced, handing him the piece of holly. "A vivificus stone is not a healing stone, Harry. Unlike the wand, it transforms itself, mutating to the will of he who commands it. It reflects the soul of the individual and yields to his will. Before, I could not say what that thing was for you, but now I have an idea. Mama said we were kindred souls, you and I."

It was odd seeing the girl he'd spent the whole summer with performing magic. She had healed his scar, however small, with her touch, and now this. Harry wondered if he knew all there was to know about the young woman now before him. "We're not allowed to use magic out of school," he said with a tinge of rancor.

"Nor should I... ever," she scolded herself. She looked at Sirius' bike and then back to Harry. "Damn the mud, let's go see Duncan at the shop. He's waiting for you and it's almost lunch."

"But we just ate!"

"Don't be silly," she said grinning, and her eyes twinkling. "I promised Mama we'd put ten pounds on you in ten days and I don't want to lose the momentum we've started!" She reached down and picked up the helmet. "Let's go!"

Harry couldn't help but throw his leg over Sirius' bike. Gabriella sat behind wrapping her arms tight around his waist. For a long moment he stared at the key in the ignition.

"It's just a bike," she whispered, pulling him still closer. "Let go of its spirits."

Harry turned the key and they were off. It was good to have her close again, her body offering warmth against the cold. Riding through the neighborhood he found himself, for the first time, happy to return to Little Whinging. When they passed the park, kids were still having snowball fights with what little powder remained. Driving up to the sports shop the memories of summer rushed back into his mind, only this time they were happy memories, and he grinned from ear to ear.

They entered the store, the bell by the door ringing loudly, but Duncan was nowhere to be seen. Near the front was an old man with heavy woolen pants and a large purple parka. Harry reached over and held out his hand. "Hello, Mr. Tonks," he said, a glint of mischief in his eye. Contrary to being surprised, the man simply smiled knowingly and took Harry's hand.

"My pleasure, Mr. Potter, Merry Christmas" and then to Gabriella, "Miss Darbinyan," he nodded politely, and then looked out the window at the bright day and smiled. "Another warm day and I might have a chance to play another round of golf." Then the smile fell. "But I hear on the wireless that the weather will be changing. Too bad... another white Christmas." He patted Harry on the shoulder and said, "Be safe, my lad," then turned and left the store.

"Who was that?" Gabriella asked.

"A regular," answered Harry just as he spotted Duncan emerge from a rack in the hunting section. "Duncan Fentley!" Harry yelled in the best imitation of the owner, Mr. Fettle, he could muster. "This place is a disaster! You're fired!" Startled, Duncan looked up to see Harry and Gabriella, and instantly burst into a sprint to the front door. He grabbed Harry in his arms and squeezed so tight, Harry thought he might pass out.

"Potter!" he growled. "Damn you! You left and the whole place has gone to hell!" He held Harry out with his hands scanning him up and down. "How are you? Damn, you're as thin as a rail; do they feed you at that school of yours?" Harry looked back at Duncan to find tears welling in the blonde's eyes. He grabbed Harry in his thick arms again and squeezed tight. "Christ, Harry, when Gabriella told us about the accident and I saw the bike, I thought we lost you for good. I'm glad you're back." Then Duncan turned to the back of the store wiping his face.

"Bartlet!" he called and a thin kid with a white shirt and black tie stepped out from the shoe section. "You've got the register! I'm out to lunch." The three walked over to Bentley's and ordered up some fish & chips. Sitting at the window-table watching people walk by with gifts in their arms, Harry felt like he'd never left.

"Sorry Emma ain't here to see you," started Duncan, taking a sip of soda. "Some bloody track competition in Nice. They'll be runnin' on the Côte D'Azur this weekend, and she flies back from Paris on Christmas Eve." He looked around the shop and then reached into his jacket pocket pulling out a small black box. "I have a bit of a surprise for her on Christmas," he beamed. Opening the box he revealed a diamond engagement ring. The band was gold, engraved with a pattern of thorns, and in its center rose a modestly sized marquise-cut diamond that sparkled brilliantly in the light.

"Oh, Duncan!" Gabriella gasped, holding her hand to her mouth. "It's... it's beautiful." Her eyes grew wet as she reached over the table hugging his neck.

"Hey!" Harry pulled her back grinning. "It's not for you." Gabriella slapped his shoulder.

"My word, Duncan," she said, misty eyed, "she'll love it!" Duncan eyed the ring for a moment then closed the box and slipped it into his pocket.

"Yeah," he whispered deep in thought, a bit of concern on his face. "But will she say 'yes'?"

"You know she will, Duncan!" Harry said, reaching over and slapping him on the shoulder. "Who else is gonna get her track shoes at half price?" The wisecrack wiped the concern off Duncan's face in an instant.

"That's only clearance, mind you," he said, pointing his finger at Harry, and the two laughed out loud. The waitress brought their food to the table and Duncan held up his cup of soda. "To good... no... to priceless friends." They each tapped cups and began to eat.

On their way back from lunch, Duncan stopped about a block from the shop. "Gabriella, could you walk ahead for a bit? I need to talk to Harry for just a minute."

"No problem, Duncan. Harry, I'll see you back at the store." She kissed him on the cheek and started on her way.

"That's a fine woman you have there, Harry," Duncan said as they both watched her walk down the street to the store. "She got my butt through the first term, when I was lookin' for any excuse to quit." He chuckled to himself. "Now I think I might join Emma at the University next year. Mr. Fettle thinks I have a head for business and wants me to work part time and go to school part time. He's gonna pay, and that means I don't need to lean on Mum and Dad, anymore."

"That's great, Duncan!" Harry encouraged, but he was still curious why that needed to be kept secret from Gabriella. "I know you and your folks never really, well..."

"Yeah," Duncan bristled, pulling his jacket up around his neck. "They're in South Africa now." Duncan stared down the street, a sullen look hung on his face when he turned back to his friend. "Listen, Harry... I was wonderin' if... well, if maybe you'd be my best man. I know you'll probably have other things to do and all, but if..." Harry grabbed Duncan by the shoulders and shook him to stop talking.

"Other things to do?" Harry squinted at his friend. "You're kidding, right? It'd be like saying 'no' to Charles and Lady Di." Harry held out his hand. "I'd be honored, Mr. Fentley." Duncan grabbed his hand and pulled him back into a bear hug, and then started talking very rapidly discussing plans, and times, and who else might be there, as they went to join Gabriella at the shop.

They invited Duncan for dinner at Gabriella's house and said their goodbyes. Then she and Harry decided to do a little shopping. It was growing dark as they made their way back home on Sirius' motorcycle, the waxing moon looming large above the rooftops. Gabriella held their purchases in one hand and held Harry in the other. It had been so long since he last was home for Christmas, Harry had forgotten about all the lights. After arriving on the Hogwarts Express last night, he found the lights in London a gaudy spectacle, but here in town there was a warmth that Harry had never before recognized. The trees in the park were lit up with sparkling white lights and the homes were sprinkled in dazzling arrays of colour. On Privet Drive, nearly all the homes, except the Dursleys', were adorned in some fashion. But the most stunning of all was the Darbinyan household. The roof was set with strings of green and blue. The front trees were wound in red and white. Lighted candy canes lined the walk to the front door and each bush sparkled with a colour of the rainbow. Finally, in the center of it all was a nativity scene with figures that were carved of stone and hand painted. In the twinkling lights, Mary and Joseph looked as if they might walk off the front lawn.

"Brilliant!" Harry whispered, his eyes agog at the sight before him. Not wanting to offend Grigor should he return early, he decided to park the bike in the Dursley garage. As he rode up into the driveway he noticed, too late, Mrs. Figg out of the corner of his eye. It all happened in an instant. He heard Mrs. Figg scream and point at the sidewalk, as Gabriella yelled in his ear, and then the sickening thud as his bike struck something beneath the wheel. Quickly, Harry stopped the bike and both he and Gabriella climbed off to find one of Mrs. Figg's cats stretched out on the Dursley lawn, its breaths shallow and rapid.

"Sebastian!" Mrs. Figg screamed, running over with two other cats following in tow. Harry knelt close to the cat, his own heart pounding in he ears.

"No, not again," he thought to himself. Gabriella laid her hand on Harry's shoulder as Mrs. Figg fell to her own knees and began to weep, stroking the cat on the grass. It meowed in pain at the touch, sending shivers through them all.

"It's over," Gabriella said quietly. "It wasn't your fault, Harry. It was an accident." Harry shook his head in disbelief. How often would he hear those words? The lights from the Darbinyan home cast an eerie shadow on the lawn. Their flickering colours seemed to be playing tricks with Harry's eyes. Or were they? He could see the light before him, and it wasn't the sparkle of Christmas.

He knelt down and picked the dying cat up into his arms. It moaned in pain and Mrs. Figg put her hand up to stop him, but he ignored it. Holding the cat close, his eyes began to focus on something he'd never seen before. There in his arms was not only the flesh and fur of a gray tabby, but the flickering light of its now waning life force. Harry blinked his eyes in disbelief. Concentrating hard on what was glowing before him, the vision to his sides began to fade; Mrs. Figg, Gabriella, the damp grass, and the other cats circling about grew faint as Harry found himself slipping into another place.

It was the same feeling he had when he was being pulled into the vivificus stone, only he and the cat were floating together into the nothingness and, as they did so, the cat's form faded leaving only the flicker of its life force. Instinctively, Harry reached for the faint glimmer of light. He put his hands forward, but the light seemed just out of reach. He grasped deeper, further into the darkness. Still, it seemed just outside his grasp. "Accio!" his mind called out, his body straining to the very fingertips. The twinkle of light seemed to float back, and he stretched with all his might until he felt its warmth touch his fingers.

Gently curling his hand around the energy, he pulled back from the darkness, he pulled out from the depths of the beyond. He felt his own life force coursing from his arms and into his hands, and watched as the cat's light grew bright. As his surroundings came back into view, he saw the cat's new light blending with its flesh and bone. Suddenly, he found himself in the here and now. He looked down to see the warm cat purring in his hands, but when he turned to speak with Gabriella, the world tilted and everything began to spin. The last thing he remembered was her calling his name and then all went dark.

"Come with me!" a girl's voice beckoned playfully in the darkness. She laughed and giggled. "Come on... it won't hurt."

"I won't go!" he cried out with a child's voice.

"Are you afraid?" she jeered.

"I'm not afraid of anything!" he yelled back, the echoes of his voice fading into nothingness. "I am lord over all!"

"Maybe over the monkey-bars," she teased. "Come on Tom! It's just water!" Harry heard a great splash.

"Get it off!" he screamed out. "Get it off!"

"Get it off!" Harry yelled, flailing at his face only to realize he was in the middle of the Dursleys' living room with Gabriella and Mrs. Figg looking down at him.

"It's okay, Harry," Gabriella said softly, "you're safe." She held out a wet washcloth to Harry's face and he recoiled. "It's just water," she said. "You're a bit feverish." The cobwebs refused to clear from Harry's brain as he looked around the pristine living room.

"I'm not afraid of the water," he said, his head still shaky, "you are!" He pulled off his shoes and socks and dropped them on the floor. "Come on, let's go swimming."

"Snap out of it, darling," Mrs. Figg said in a curt voice, and then she slapped him hard on the side of the face. Gabriella looked at her in horror. "Well, it works in the movies." Harry blinked his eyes.

"What... what happened?" he asked, slowly sitting up on the couch. "How'd I get here?"

"Well, darling," Mrs. Figg said in a very matter-of-fact voice, "you smashed my Sebastian with your motorbike, and then you healed her with some sort of green light."

"What?" Harry asked, incredulous. He reached back in his mind, trying to replay what had happened, but his memory failed.

"The Green Flame," Gabriella corrected. "Mrs. Figg saw the Green Flame." Harry rubbed his face with his hands. His skin was clammy and he felt weak and dizzy. Confused by what she said, he looked at her blankly, but she would say no more. It took a moment for him to realize that Gabriella was holding back because of the presence of Mrs. Figg.

"It's okay," he said rubbing his temples. "Mrs. Figg, here... well, she's a Squib. I'm not too sure about her cats though." She had brought all three cats into the Dursley home with her, and the gray tabby swept its tail around Harry's leg. Gabriella seemed surprised, but only for a moment. She had sensed something in Mrs. Figg during their conversations on the street and now it seemed to all make sense. She dabbed his forehead with the wet washcloth and this time he remained still.

"Harry..." she began to think out loud, a tinge of excitement in her voice, "the stone takes on the characteristics its master. Your heart searched for good and healed your Headmaster. But the link with a vivificus stone is not just one way. The cinnabar will resonate its energy back into the master, amplifying the very characteristic he bestowed upon the stone. Skills that were once dormant or hidden can be brought to the fore. The ability to heal is not rare, but the ability to bring back a life-force is extraordinary. Your eyes flamed green, Harry, and returned the dead cat to life."

"That's impossible, darling," Mrs. Figg said in a disbelieving voice. "No one can..."

"Dumbledore can," Harry interrupted. "He brought me back from the dead; it was green flame."

"The dead?" asked Gabriella, her voice quivering. "Then it's true?" Harry simply nodded and closed his eyes in hopes the room would stop spinning. Instead of pressing further, she simply took the cloth and again wet his brow. "Harry, it is a flash of green light that wizards use to steal the life force of others. It is the Green Flame by which it may be returned. The ability has always been yours; the vivificus stone just let you see it and gave you the power to exercise it."

"You two are both touched, if you ask me," said Mrs. Figg, shaking her head.

"The killing curses are used all too often in my country, Mrs. Figg," Gabriella answered her lips thinning, a hint of steel in her voice. "The green flash has created many widows in Lebanon; this I have seen with my own eyes." She then took Harry's hand. "I have but heard tales of those able to wield the Green Flame, not just healing the injured, but returning those past death to life. Tonight, I have finally seen."

"Avada..." Harry began to think out loud, but Gabriella pressed his lips with her fingers and hushed him. There was a ripping sound and he turned to see a black cat clawing on Uncle Vernon's favorite chair. Aunt Petunia's chair was already in tatters. "Mrs. Figg, I'm okay, really, but I think you'd best take your cats home."

"Certainly, Harry," she nodded and stood. She clicked her tongue and the cats swarmed to her legs as she walked to the door. "And, Harry, please be careful with that two-wheeled machine of yours. Dumbledore wants you back in one piece, I'm sure." Harry grinned back as she left the door, then slumped back down on the couch.

"I feel like I've been run over by a train," Harry moaned, taking a deep breath.

"The stone's resonant energy is not permanent, Harry. Think of it as a great clockworks that needs winding. The more energy you can give it by tapping into the energy around us, the greater your strength becomes and the longer it will last. But if you draw more energy than the stone carries, you must ultimately draw it from yourself--your own life force."

"And anybody can use the stone? Muggle or wizard?" Harry asked, and Gabriella nodded.

"Muggles have heated such stones in fires, then used their power to help heal the sick."

"But it can also be used for evil, can't it?"

"Almost always, Harry," she answered dejectedly. "With such power few can resist the temptation to turn the stone to serve their own greed. At such times, it must be... retrieved by its caretakers." As he lay with his head on the end of the couch, she too reclined placing her head on his chest. "It takes a special heart to turn the stone for good." She reached out and took Harry's hand in her own brushing it softly with her lips. She listened to the rhythm of his beating heart against her ear and smiled.

"And it would give tremendous power to those who would turn it to evil?" asked Harry, his voice pitching higher. His heart began to quicken and its beating grew louder in her ear.

"Yes," she whispered with concern.

"Why would you give me such a thing without telling me?" he cried. "It could have fallen into the wrong hands!"

"Harry," she answered calmly, "there is no safer place on earth than at Hogwarts. Even I have heard of your Headmaster, Dumbledore; the enchantments around his castle are legendary." She sat up and found the look of concern on Harry's face. "Besides, only your fellow Gryffindor, Goyle, knows of the stone. Surely he would not betray his housemate's confidence." A wave of nausea washed over Harry and he quickly sat up then leaned over placing his head between his knees. "Harry, what is it?"

"The cinnabar... it sits in the mouth of the dragonhead you gave me. It's out for all to see on my desk at Hogwarts. What if... what if..." Panicking, he began to hyperventilate. What if Goyle had been a Slytherin spy the whole time? How easy it would have been to simply renounce his father, earning Gryffindor's good graces. He'd seen him talking with Crabbe in the Great Hall. If Goyle spoke of the stone to his old friend, then Voldemort would know by now. And if Voldemort knew, then Hogwarts was in danger. Harry took in another deep breath. What if Dumbledore was not well? Sure, he looked healthy, but the graying wizard had hidden his illness early in the year. He might have done it again. Harry gulped for more air.

"Harry... you're breathing too fast!" Gabriella said, her own voice rising as she began to take on Harry's panic. But it was too late. The panic washed up from Harry's innards, and he wretched over Aunt Petunia's oak coffee table. "Oh, no," Gabriella said softly. The expulsion of fluid in Harry's stomach seemed to take with it the fear and his breaths slowed. He needed to get control of himself and whimpering in the Dursley living room wasn't the way to do it. Gabriella ran to the kitchen and brought him a glass of warm water.

"Drink this," she offered. Taking the glass, Harry swallowed a healthy gulp and regained his composure. His mind quickly scanned the possibilities. In his heart he knew that Goyle was no traitor, but he remembered his promise to himself that he would not be fooled. Post by owl would take too long and he needed to speak with the Order now. He stared intently at the wall in the Dursley living room.

"Gabriella," he said, looking at her with determined eyes, "I must speak with someone, right away." He stood and so too did she. "Do you have an axe?"