Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 45 - Red Light at Morning

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The cats had spread flecks of fur all over Aunt Petunia's living room. They had scratched at her sofa, torn her chairs, and a distinct odour caused Harry to wonder if they hadn't left something more behind. That, mixed with his own vomit now dripping down the sides of the coffee table, freed Harry's conscience to throw caution to the wind.

"I said I need an axe! Do you have one?" he asked again, trying to remember if perhaps Vernon kept one in the garage. Gabriella stood, a bit confused, unable to see where he was going with his thoughts.

"We have a small hatchet at home," she offered.

A few minutes later Harry was hacking away at the living room wall. Splinters of wood fell like hail to the floor. Gabriella stood back, her face holding a look that was somewhere between horror and amusement. She had no idea what he was up to, but she enjoyed watching Harry exert himself physically. Before long, his face was red with exhaustion as he cracked the larger boards away.

"This would be so much easier you know if..." he said, looking to Gabriella for magical assistance. But she simply shook her head and flashed him a sly smile.

"You know," she reprimanded, "if you'd eat better at that school of yours, this wouldn't be so difficult." Harry pursed his lips, then simply glared at her with a smirk. "And, have you ever thought of lifting weights? It would improve your Quidditch stamina; although from what Ron told me on the train, even as thin as you are you still make a passable Seeker."

"Passable!" Harry squealed, ripping another board off the wall with a large crack. He turned to look at the black eyes twinkling with delight before him. He was huffing deeply, his arms taking a much needed rest at his sides. "I'll have you know that I'm the best Seeker at Hogwarts, maybe in all of England!"

"I can see that." She grinned, staring at him nearly ready to crumple to the floor. "Well, is that what you're looking for?" She pointed at the wall behind Harry. The removal of the last board revealed a façade of brick... the mantle of the fireplace hidden behind.

"Finally," he breathed. This time Gabriella stood and helped him pull the remaining boards away to expose the fireplace that Mr. Weasley had used to visit him in his fourth year. "Ron's dad said it was set-up after the motorcycle accident. I hope it's still connected to the network."

"Why didn't you tell me that's what you were going to do?"

"Would you have helped?" Harry panted.

"No. But at least I wouldn't have thought you had gone mad."

The last word caused Harry to look at her twice, and he knew she'd sensed the change in his emotions. For a moment, he thought about telling her of the curse, but now was not the time. He pointed at a piece of splintered wood.

"Please, hand me that," he said, and together they tossed in some of the broken boards and began a fire. Then, Harry dashed up the stairs.

He shot into his room and pulled back the loose floorboards. The small space was filled with all sorts of things he'd collected from his trips to Diagon Alley, or received as gifts from Ron and Hermione. He slipped out a small pouch of floo powder and started to put the boards back when a golden wrapper caught his eyes. He grabbed it, and ran down stairs.

Gabriella was stoking the fire when he knelt at her side and offered her the chocolate frog from Honeyduke's. "What's this?" she asked, opening the package only to leap back as the frog hopped onto her shoulder. With lightning reflexes she had it in her hand and the look of surprise washed into a smile. "A chocolate frog?" She took a bite and a look of pure pleasure filled her eyes.

"I'm going to see Mr. Weasley; I'll be back in a flash," he said with a wink. "Just wait here."

"You'd better! Duncan will be by soon, and I still haven't told Mama we're having guests for dinner."

"Really, this'll only take a moment. I swear," said Harry, kissing her gently. "Less, if it doesn't work properly. You might want to keep that glass of water handy." He sprinkled the powder and in a flash he was at Grimmauld Place.

The first thing he noticed was the smell of peppermint in the air. He heard Christmas music playing upstairs and then the squeak of the opening kitchen door. Mrs. Weasley was carrying a platter of cookies, and when she saw Harry her jaw dropped and the platter fell to the ground.

"Harry!" she said, running to him and wrapping him in a large hug. Stepping back, however, she realized he was covered in sawdust and ash, and his face had a sallow pallor to it. "Merlin! What's happened to you?" The commotion got the attention of everyone in the house. Ron and Ginny came out of the kitchen, Fred appeared on the landing up the stairs, and Mr. Weasley walked out of the study. Everyone seemed to say his name at once and instantly converged to see what the matter was. After repeating for the fifth time that he was fine and that he was only here to visit, he finally got close enough to whisper in Mr. Weasley's ear.

"I need to speak with you, sir."

"Okay everyone!" Mr. Weasley called out. "Give him some room. Come with me Harry. I need to speak with you for a minute, and then you can visit with the family." Only Ron seemed to know something was wrong as Mr. Weasley took Harry by the shoulder and walked him into the study closing the door behind. "Alright, Harry," he said, "let's hear it." Harry couldn't help but notice that the man before him seemed more aged than ever. Clearly his work with the Ministry was taking its toll.

"Where's Remus... and George?" Harry asked, realizing he'd missed them in the front.

"George is minding the store," Mr. Weasley said smiling. "They're pulling in a lot of money this time of year, and I understand you are a major stock holder. It should make for a tidy New Year's bonus." Harry shrugged, not wanting to appear too pleased, but inside he was excited that Fred and George's dream had come to fruition. "As for Remus...," Mr. Weasley sighed, "he should be resting, but instead he's still out searching for the students. I hope he gets back soon... three more nights until... well, you know."

"Sir," began Harry tentatively, "how are things at Hogwarts? Is Professor Dumbledore still well?" Mr. Weasley smiled and leaned forward in his chair.

"The man is amazing, Harry. We thought he was on his last breaths and only today he was arguing for the rights of Centaurs at the Ministry. He thinks they'll turn the tide in our war against the darkness. Tonks keeps trying to have him go to St. Mungo's just for a check-up, but he's a stubborn old man -- says he's too busy. "I don't see why; there are only a handful of students at the school." Then Mr. Weasley narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Why? What's the matter?" Harry bit his lip trying to put together what he should say. If Dumbledore was well, then the school was safe, and so too the stone. But now wasn't the time for secrets.

"There's a special object in my possession," Harry said, choosing his words carefully. "It's now in my room at Hogwarts and I have reason to believe that Vold..." Mr. Weasley winced, "that You-Know-Who might want it."

"What object?"

"I... I'd rather not say, sir." At Harry's words, Mr. Weasley nodded his head, willing to let the question remain unanswered. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands together.

"Very well, Harry. I'll have two Ministry representatives watch the school while you're on vacation. If they sniff the smallest problem, I'll have them signal at once. Then, when you get back from holiday, you can secure it as you best see fit." Satisfied, Harry nodded. He was, as usual, overreacting and Mr. Weasley was probably being more than kind offering two Ministry members when they could otherwise be out looking for Luna and Neville.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, rising from his chair. "I'd better go."

"You're not staying?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"I've got to get back. Gabriella's waiting for me," Harry answered with a slight blush in his cheeks.

"I see," said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he rose from his chair to escort Harry out of the study. "She's a fine girl, Harry... a fine girl." Just as they reached the door, Harry stopped and turned to look into Mr. Weasley's eyes.

"She's a witch," he said simply, wondering what the response would be. The corners of Mr. Weasley's smile widened a bit.

"Ron mentioned your holiday surprise on the train. Yes, Harry, she is a witch, and a fine one from what I've heard, considering her circumstance," he said gently. "Her father could have taught at Hogwarts."

"How long have you known?" asked Harry a bit surprised at the answer. Mr. Weasley leaned against the door thumbing his fingers.

"Well, the Ministry has known since the Darbinyans moved to England. They had to register, of course." Seeing the look on Harry's face, he tried to explain. "As you might imagine, we've been watching them like hawks, but they seem harmless enough and they are entitled to their own privacy if they choose. I'm sorry that we couldn't tell you, Harry. There are countless magical families who wish to join the great majority of our society, and say what you might, Muggles are the majority. And, as you found out last summer, Muggles can live enjoyable lives. The Darbinyans are not unique in that regard. Of course, like most they cannot always resist the temptation. We've been watching Privet Drive closely and there has been some sporadic magic across the street from Number four -- no doubt to dust or some such thing. I've tried to get Molly to try going Muggle-style for just a week, but we never seem to make it through a single day. There's got to be a better way to do dishes." Mr. Weasley laughed.

"I wish I had a pence for every dish I washed for my Aunt Petunia. I'd be as rich as..." Harry stopped, realizing that he already was rich. Indeed, if what Remus said was true, he was among the richest sixteen year olds in England. For the first time in a long while, his mind flashed to the Ministry where Sirius fell through the curtain. Mr. Weasley noticed the expression at once.

"It's the walls, Harry," he consoled, moving the wisps of hair that concealed Harry's scar from off his face. "Molly can scrub them shiny, but they still speak to us every night. Speaking of scrubbing... you are a bit ripe." He pulled out his wand and tapped Harry on the forehead. The ash and dust vanished from Harry's face and hair, and his clothes looked like they'd just come from the cleaners. Mr. Weasley put his arm around Harry's shoulder and opened the door. "You'd best be getting on before she starts to wonder if you're coming back at all."

"Who?" asked Ron. He was standing outside the door, still waiting to see what was the matter. "What's going on, Harry?"

"Oh... nothing, Ron," Harry said, feeling much better. "I guess I was worried about Hogwarts is all." Ron tried to follow-up his questions, but Harry stopped him before he could start. "Listen, now that I know we're still on the network, I'll stop by Christmas."

"Wonderful, Harry," said Mr. Weasley. "I'll make sure we keep the fire burning."

"But why would you..." Ron stammered, but too late. The fire flashed and Harry was back at Privet Drive. Stepping from the embers, he brushed a bit of ash from his sleeves, and found himself alone in the living room. His concern heightened when he heard Gabriella at the door arguing.

"I said you had to wait!" she yelled.

"But it's bloody cold out here, woman!" The voice was Duncan's.

"Let him in!" Harry called out. Peeking back to see that Harry had returned, Gabriella let the blonde through the front door. When his eyes saw the devastation of the living room they nearly burst from his head.

"What the bloody hell happened?" He gawked at the splintered wood and ash scattered everywhere. "I'd say you'd been on a drinking binge, if I didn't know you were more sober than an alter boy just a few hours ago. He stepped into the living room only to feel the squish of a cat dropping beneath his foot. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to see what was on the bottom of his shoe and groaned. "For the love of..."

"Look," Gabriella interrupted, "I'm sure Mama's started dinner by now. Let's go over to my place and we can deal with this mess later -- much later."

"Brilliant idea, Gabriella!" Harry commended. And before long Gabriella was in the kitchen with Soseh, while Harry and Duncan sat at the table, their shoes outside, discussing football.

"I tell you, Harry," said Duncan his voice revving with excitement, "Chelsea is the best there is this year." Harry was a bit surprised, really. The last he'd read before he left for school was that Newcastle was the team to beat. The glint of disbelief in Harry's eyes made Duncan bristle in defense. "You don't believe me? They beat Newcastle 4-0, Arsenal 3-1, Exeter 5-1..."

"Okay! Okay!" Harry surrendered. Soseh placed a large plate of lamb in the center of the table and the conversation instantly gave way to hunger. Soon the table was filled with a variety of dishes, and Harry couldn't help but keep an eye on the mince pie cooking in the oven.

"I don't understand, Harry," Soseh said with glowing eyes. "You eat twice as much as Duncan and yet he looks as if he could break you like a toothpick." She slid some dolmades over in front of him, and he graciously took two more stuffed grape leaves.

"Then I guess I'll have to eat three times as much!" he said with a smile popping one in his mouth. Soseh beamed with joy and for a moment they held each others gaze, dark brown and emerald green. It was as if she was filling him with happiness, and he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "This will be the best Christmas ever." A tear slipped down from Soseh's eye and she seemed to struggle for the words to say.

"It's okay, Mama," said Gabriella quietly, taking her mother's hand in her own. Still, Soseh stared at Harry, her lip trembling. "Mama... it's okay." The alarm went off signaling that the pie was ready, breaking the trance holding Soseh's mind. She took a deep breath and rose to take the pie from the oven.

Desert and coffee finished, Harry and Duncan bundled up for their short walks home. They thanked Mrs. Darbinyan profusely, but she was not to be outdone. Since Duncan was alone, she invited him to spend as much of the holidays at the Darbinyan home as he was able. His belly full, Duncan accepted Soseh's gracious invitation almost before she got the words out. Soseh hugged his waist and said, "A home lives or dies from the laughter it hears, and these walls have had a grand time tonight."

And so it was that Duncan came for dinner on the night Harry had dreaded since his arrival on Privet Drive. When they were in the park playing football with friends earlier that day, Harry told Duncan about Grigor's request that he keep his path separate from Gabriella's. Duncan tried to be supportive, saying that Grigor was just being protective of his daughter in a new country. Still, on this evening, as Harry and Duncan walked to the Darbinyan door to ring the bell, Harry felt the perspiration break out on the palms of his hands. His mouth felt like cotton.

Gabriella opened the door, and the two boys stepped in. The room was filled with pipe smoke, and through the thin haze Harry saw Grigor seated in his leather chair. He was smoking while another gentleman, seated on the couch next to him, read the paper. Harry took a deep breath and entered the living room, bolstered by the fact that Duncan was at his side in his moment of need.

"Hey... erm, Gab," stuttered Duncan. "Can I use your watercloset?"

"Sure, just down..."

"Yeah, I know," he cut in, and disappeared down the hall.

Harry felt like following after when Grigor stood from his chair waiting for Harry to walk to him. Harry obliged with Gabriella at his side. The man at the couch continued to read the paper seemingly oblivious to the new arrivals.

"Papa," said Gabriella brightly, "you remember Harry from last summer?"

"Certainly, my dear," said Grigor, still holding the pipe between his teeth. "How could I forget." He slipped the pipe out of his mouth with his left hand, and held out his right. "She never stops talking about you, boy. How have you been?" Ignoring Grigor's added emphasis on the word boy, Harry held out his clammy hand and shook Grigor's as firmly as he dared.

"Never better, sir," said Harry, swallowing hard. He'd rather be standing before Voldemort right now.

"Good... good," Grigor nodded. There was a happiness on Grigor's face that seemed to make Gabriella's glow and she put her arm around Harry. But, Harry noted something more hidden in Grigor's black eyes. He'd seen such a look of happiness before. "Mr. Barghouti, I'd like you to meet a close friend of my daughter's, Harry Dursley." The two words struck like a discordant arpeggio in Harry's brain. He started to correct Grigor when Gabriella pinched his side hard. Mr. Barghouti stood as Harry extended his hand and the two shook.

"Pleasure, Harry," said Mr. Barghouti with a thick accent and a deep scratchy voice. He stood taller than Harry, and his hands were callused and rough. His skin was an earthen brown and his hair black. Harry guessed he might be Greek, or Turkish.

"Mr. Barghouti is a visiting professor at the school, Harry."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Harry said politely. The two men sat back down, and Harry and Gabriella walked over to the hall just off the kitchen where Soseh was busy preparing the meal.

"What was that about?" Harry hissed under his breath. "You know I'm not..."

"Do you have a clue what the last name Potter means in the Wizarding world?" Gabriella asked. She reached up and flicked at Harry's hair with her fingers brushing it down so that it more heavily covered his scar. "He thinks you're a Muggle; let's keep it that way. Your father's brother is Vernon Dursley, so that makes you Harry Dursley, okay?" The thought of pretending to be a Dursley was almost too much to bear. Still, seeing the smile in her eyes, he nodded his head in agreement.

"Did I miss anything, mate?" Duncan asked sauntering down the hall and tucking in his shirt. Harry thought he might punch him in the gut, but simply rolled his eyes and groaned. "What? What happened?"

Before long they were all sitting around the table having another wonderful meal. Before they sat, Harry tried to put Duncan between himself and Grigor, but Duncan, seemingly oblivious, took Harry's chair leaving Harry to sit next to Grigor. "More like Ron every day," Harry thought as he pulled out the chair at Grigor's side. The food was fabulous and the conversation light. Indeed, all was well until Grigor mentioned that he wouldn't be home for Christmas Eve.

"What do you mean?" shot Soseh, clearly agitated. "You're never home and now you tell me you won't be here on one of the most important days of the year!"

"That would be Christmas, Soseh," said Grigor calmly. "And I will be home to take you all to church. But Christmas Eve is too important for me to miss. I have students coming in from all over to use the telescope."

"The full moon," Harry said, recalling his conversation with Mr. Weasley.

"Precisely!" Grigor exclaimed. "See, dear, even Harry knows." And then he turned to Harry with an excitement in his eyes that Harry had never seen before. "But it is not just a full moon, Harry. Mars rises in conjunction! My only wish is that the clouds part long enough for us to have a clear view. The red planet is as bright as it has been in centuries, and just after midnight tomorrow it will appear to pierce the glowing moon. Even with the full moon ready to swallow Mars, its red light will be bright enough to see with your naked eye! But with the school's telescope, the view will be breathtaking. Perhaps you'd like to come see it for yourself?" The words made Soseh breathe out in disgust and walk away from the table. The idea was intriguing and Harry almost took him up on the offer, but Gabriella shot eyes at him from across the table that clearly indicated what his answer should be.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry apologized. "I promised Duncan and Gabriella we'd go caroling tomorrow night as soon as his friend Emma gets in."

"From Paris," said Grigor sharply, as he stabbed at his plate with his fork. For an instant he seemed angry, or viciously pleased with himself.

"Yes, sir," replied Harry. "But how did you know..."

"Caroling?" asked Duncan and he started choking on a small piece of fish. Grigor stood and slapped him on the back, dislodging the fish. The distraction was enough everyone forgot their train of thought.

"Well, if you change your minds, you're all welcome to come," said Grigor, raising his voice and pointing it purposefully at Soseh who was now adjusting plates in the kitchen. He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and winked with a smile. "She's still a goddess," Grigor whispered. "Don't you think?" Harry smiled back, and the two returned to the meal before them, discussing mythological reasons why Mars might be so bright.

When Gabriella walked with Harry back across the street, he felt like he was walking on air. Not only did dinner not go bad, it went astoundingly well. He spent much of the evening talking with Grigor about various astronomical events now taking place in the skies above. Grigor was particularly keen on what he thought might be a new star. Well after the meal had ended, Mr. Darbinyan pulled down an old bottle of brandy and poured out four glasses for the four men. They toasted for clear skies tomorrow night; they toasted for the health of family abroad; they toasted for Emma's safe return; and they toasted for peace throughout the world. Harry missed the first step leading to the Dursley front door, but Gabriella caught his fall.

"I think you've had a little too much brandy, Harry," Gabriella chided as she helped him into the house. Harry flopped onto the couch sending a cloud of dust into the air.

"You are going to clean this place before the Dursley's get back, aren't you?" she asked.

"I swear!" said Harry raising his hand in the air, and then letting it flop down at his side. "You could help you know," Harry winked in an exaggerated manner and slipping out his wand from inside his jacket pocket. She flopped down next to him sending another cloud into the air, ignoring his gesture.

"I think that went rather well, don't you?" she asked, taking the wand and slipping it back in Harry's jacket.

"Yeah, except now I'm a Dursley," Harry grimaced. "I feel like I should take a shower."

"That might be nice," she said. Her lips smiled and her eyes twinkled as she took his hand. As the two reached the top floor, Harry stopped and kissed her gently on the lips.

"Yes, this is going to be the best Christmas ever!"