Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 49 - Voices from the Past

~~~***~~~

Harry bent low upon his knees gazing intently at the water flowing quickly through the rift in the rough hewn stones. The sun was warm upon his bare back and the green grass soft beneath his bare feet. The stones were rumbling again, speaking a low deep voice that only Harry understood. "Love harbors no enemies," they reverberated in Harry's mind. He was surrounded by dense trees, but in this place there were no singing birds. Sound seemed not to exist save for the gurgling babble of the brook before him. "The sword defends, it does not attack." It... he... they were calling. Somehow, Harry knew in his heart what he must do. "Embrace the world, and you will be welcomed." He bent low to the water, balancing precipitously on the bank's edge. "Champion these precepts, enter, and be cleansed."

Freely, Harry fell forward into the rushing water and plunged into darkness. A scorching pain erupted in his forehead, as if a hot poker was driving its way not into but out of his brain. He screamed in agony.

-- "Potter!"--

"Harry!"

"Stand back you two."

"It's his scar! It must be --"

"Shhhh."

"Sit up now, Mr. Potter," said Madam Guérir kindly as Harry blinked against the lights shining in his face, his head pounding. Placing an extra pillow behind him, she handed him a cup. "Here, drink this." He took a sip of the green liquid. It looked revolting, but instantly he began to feel better. The fog in his eyes started to clear and the pounding of his forehead subsided. Voldemort was angry, he thought to himself, but it wasn't all about Voldemort; there was something more, something important.

"Thank you," he said weakly. He took in a deep breath, and reached for his glasses at the tableside. He found them, crumpled and bent.

"Here," said Hermione, brandishing her wand. "Oculus Reparo."

"Thanks," said Harry, slipping the glasses over his ears, everything coming into focus. He was in a bed at the cavern entrance to the hospital ward. Ron was seated against the wall next to a table. His red hair ruffled, he looked as if he'd been sleeping. The dozens of beds that earlier laid empty were now more than half full. Madame Guérir was not the only healer present. Madame Pomfrey had arrived, as well as a few others. There were also a number of wizards and witches wearing cobalt blue robes. Harry gawked in curiosity.

"Aurors from the Ministry, Harry," Hermione whispered under her breath. "We have quite a few Death Eaters that need patching up before they're jailed to await trial."

"More than they'd show any of us," Ron spat. "They should let 'em all rot!" His words turned a few heads, but most were too busy or too of like mind to do anything about it.

Still feeling weak, Harry sat more upright for a better look, and quickly realized he was naked. Pulling his sheet more tightly around his waist, he looked at Ron. "Where are my clothes?"

"The tunnel leading to the castle has been cleared, but we're waiting for the all-safe signal to go back in. As soon as it sounds, I'll get your clothes," he said blearily. "What you were wearing was bloody awful; Dementor blood just doesn't smell right, Harry. I figure it'll take about a year to clean them proper."

"This is stupid," Harry complained, a bit dizzy. "I wasn't hurt. I need to get out of here! You can surely find me a robe or something." Aching in his joints, he swung his legs to move out of the bed with the sheet around him. "You're treating me like --"

"Harry, stop!" said Hermione stiffly. Her voice was loud and sharp, and froze him in place. She walked over and stood in front of him as he sat on the edge of his bed. One of the Aurors further down the ward noticed the commotion and began to walk their way. "We have two problems, Harry. Neither one you'll like. But don't snap at me like it's my fault, okay?" She glanced back over her shoulder.

"I would never snap at you, Hermione," said Harry, trying to smile but finding the motion painful. Hermione just glowered and shook her head.

"First, you can't leave because you're wanted for questioning."

"What?" Harry snapped. "You can't --" Hermione pointed her finger at his face and he settled back down.

"You were the last to see Lucius Malfoy and the other Death Eater. They think you know the --"

"The 'I'll stab you in the back' MALcontent Slytherin, you mean," interjected Ron. Hermione swung on him.

"We don't know that, Ron. All I know is that the voice casting the spell seemed like his." She turned back to Harry. "They want to know what you know, Harry. That's all." Harry swallowed hard, as the Auror in blue came closer. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to muster some extra courage for the next part.

"Secondly..." she began trying to muster the courage, but faltered. Finally, she huffed and waved her wand in the air in circles in front of Harry. The air began to glisten until it turned into a silvery mirror. Harry looked up to see his reflection, and recoiled at the sight. Slowly, he looked again, holding his hands to his face, trying to convince himself it was true.

His hair, hanging down straight about his shoulders, had turned white. His face was ashen, emaciated, and looked like a dried fruit revealing the bone structure of his scull beneath. It was as if he'd been sucked dry by a vampire. In fact, Harry looked to his neck to see if he'd been bitten.

"No, Harry," Hermione said softly. "It's not that. They're not sure what it is. Although Madame Pomfrey says --"

"Is there a problem here?" The Auror had arrived behind Hermione, and she quickly vanished the mirror. He was tall, with dark brown eyes, and golden hair. A thin scar ran across his face from the bridge of his nose, below his eye, and then dropped down and vanished at his neckline. Harry wondered if that was how Mad-Eye started as an Auror. "Mr. Potter, how are you feeling?"

"I... I... er... Ohhhh," Harry groaned falling back into bed.

"Quick!" Hermione excitedly told the Auror. "Get Madame Guérir!" He turned and walked briskly to retrieve the healer. Harry opened one eye and peaked. "He's gone," she whispered. "You can't avoid them forever, Harry." She pulled the sheet up to his neck. "Still, I have to agree; it's better now that you get your rest."

Before long, Madame Guérir had Harry on his stomach and was bathing his back with a greenish light from her wand, much like she had with Ron. It seemed somehow refreshing, like drinking a tall glass of iced lemonade on a hot day. A bell chimed three times, and subdued cheers sprang up from around the ward.

"That's it, mate," said Ron, wearily taking to his feet. "All clear. I'll go get your clothes." Harry's mind had been so steeped in thought he'd forgot to ask.

"Ron, how's Fred?"

"Fred? After the battle, he didn't return to the catacombs. He left with George, and... and went to Grimmauld place." His voice started to break. "He's... they're... going to tell Mum." Hermione stepped over next to Ron and put her arm around his waist, gently resting her head on his shoulder. He turned and kissed her forehead.

"Your dad? What about your dad?" Harry asked cautiously. Ron held up a hand and pointed toward the back of the ward. Harry leaned up on his elbows just long enough to get a glimpse of Mr. Weasley's red hair before Madame Guérir pushed him back down. Mr. Weasley was seated in a chair with an Auror standing at either side. "What is it Ron? What's wrong?"

"It's Fudge," said Ron in a sorrowful tone. "He flew in front of a shot meant for Dad. They don't think..." He sighed heavily, slowly shaking his head, and swallowed hard as Madame Guérir pulled the covers back over Harry's back.

"That'll do for now, Mr. Potter. Keep drinking this potion. I want it all gone before I come back and I won't be long." She slipped her wand away, wiped her brow, and started toward the back of the ward. As she passed Madame Pomfrey she whispered something in her ear. Madame Pomfrey shook her head, and for an instant they both looked back at Harry, but then quickly continued with their work.

"Go on, Ron," Hermione said softly. "Get his clothes. I'll tell him." He nodded, and she kissed him on the cheek before he left the room. When she turned she found Harry working at a smile. "What?" she asked. She could see the good humor in his eyes, even as she forced herself to look at the skeletal masque before her.

"Why didn't you two tell me?" he asked. "All year I've been thinking you've been doing secret missions together for the Order, and you've just been off snogging? How rich!"

"We haven't been off snogging!" she said, affronted.

"You know Ron can't keep a secret, any more than Neville can remember a password. Now that I know the couple of you are a... er, a couple, I'll break him, you'll see." Struggling for a little more air, Harry breathed in deeply. The very act of smiling seemed to exhaust him, and he leaned back into his pillow. He was suddenly feeling tired. "He told me about Germany, at least that you were mugged."

"Yes," she said, her voice troubled. "He shouldn't have taken it out on Dean like that. Sometimes I wonder who's more the hothead -- you, or him. Dean was supposed to stop by Grimmauld Place for New Years, and I hoped they'd continue mending their relationship. Now, with all this, I don't know." She sighed, and for the first time Harry saw fatigue creep into Hermione's eyes.

"What about Fudge?" he asked. Hermione pulled her chair over to Harry's bedside and sat.

"He's dying, Harry. They don't think he'll make it to dawn, and that's only an hour away."

"Dying?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Who else? What about Colin? Remus?" Hermione reached over and took Harry's hand.

"Two house elves, Trelin and Eurasus, died in front of the castle. Samantha Blanchester, a werewolf, was killed near Hagrid's hut. No one knows about Remus, and the others. They disappeared into the forest, and haven't been seen. Colin was a bit scorched. He's behind that screen over there; he'll be fine." Tired, she rubbed her eyes. "There were some deaths at the Ministry, mostly goblins missing wizards and hitting their own. Feniscule Benzdrac of the Britain Goblin Alliance says that they didn't have anything to do with the attack. He called them a bunch of crazed goblins under You-Know-Who's control. I think the attack there was just a distraction for the main assault here."

"Everyone here, including the Death Eaters, are going to recover. Everyone's going to be fine, but Minister Fudge, and... and you." She gently squeezed Harry's bony hand in her own. "Harry, I won't lie to you. You've been in here for three hours, and you're getting worse, not better. They don't know what to do. Madame Pomfrey has spoken twice to a specialist in London, and... and nothing." She wiped her eyes trying hard not to cry. "What happened down there, Harry? It's like your life is draining away. Who did this to you?"

Harry held his hand to his face. It had become thinner since last he looked. The skin was translucent, and he could see the veins running down his fingers. "This?" he asked, recalling the flow of energy from himself to Lucius. "This... I did to myself." His mind turned to Minister Fudge. "If there's anything left, I... I won't let him die because of me." Harry forced himself up in bed, and looked for his wand. It was on a table against the wall where Ron had been sitting. Next to it was his bag with the items he'd rescued from his room. "They didn't even know the stone was there," he whispered to himself. "Ron was right: another trap and I walked right into it." He held up his right arm. "Accio Wand!" he summoned, but nothing happened. "Accio Wand!" he called again, still the wand remained on the table. Breathing heavily he turned to Hermione. "Hand me the damn thing."

"Harry, you --" His glare stopped her short. She walked over and handed Harry his wand. He pointed it at his bag.

"Accio pack!" An extremely faint light blinked from his wand and then faded away. It was all he could do, but Harry sat up on the edge of the bed. "I'll get the bloody thing myself," he wheezed.

"At least take another drink." She held up the potion in her hand. He took the cup and drank it down in one gulp, anxious to be on with his work. What he hadn't noticed was the sleeping draught Hermione had slipped in with the potion. Immediately, his eyes began to droop.

"You don't understand," he muttered as sleep began to overtake him. "I need to..." He fell to his pillow, his hand falling in front of his face. If anything, it looked more like bone than flesh. The last thing he remembered was Hermione covering him with the sheet.

"We can't afford to lose both of you, Harry," she said with a sigh, leaning down and kissing his head.

"He's gone," a voice called from the other side of the cavern, before all was darkness.

The water gurgled in his ears. "Purge yourself of anger. Relinquish your pride to the depths." He felt as if someone was reaching into his skull and ripping something out through his scar. Bubbles swirled around; he realized he could breathe, but he also knew he was being pulled down deeper into the water. Harry's head was on fire. He tried to scream, to swim away, but couldn't. "Here Hogwarts was born, and here, at the birth of light, it will be reborn again and the darkness will at last be vanquished."

In a swirl of colour, the vision was interrupted. Harry found himself very much awake in the ward at the hospital, or was he? There was no sound. No one moved. Not even Hermione, seated at Harry's bedside rustled; her finger frozen in the process of turning a page in her book. It was a snapshot in time. Suddenly, there was a burst of fire filling Harry's chest, filling all of Harry. But who? How? The colours spun again, the air filled with a great whooshing sound, and then the bustle of the ward filled Harry's ears. His lids grew heavy and he was asleep.

Little time passed before he woke to wailing in the ward. A number of witches and wizards had gathered at the far end. Everyone was sobbing and hugging. Harry didn't need to ask, he knew, Minister Fudge had died. Two beds down, a wizard Harry didn't recognize began to chortle.

"That's just a taste of what the Dark Lord has planned for you all!" he cried out with a French accent. "Especially YOU, Potter!" An Auror struck him with a spell and his voice was silenced. He looked prepared to do more, when Madame Pomfrey pushed him aside and started tending to the patient.

The crowd began to filter out past Harry's bed. Professor Dumbledore was holding the hand of a short elderly witch with graying hair. She wore black and her eyes were red.

"He gave his life to save another, Melanie," offered Professor Dumbledore in a warm and gentle voice. "There can be no greater sacrifice." He walked her to the entrance of the hospital ward and stopped. "Minerva, would you take Melanie up to my office. We can start the arrangements there." Outside the door, stood Professor McGonagall in fine purple robes.

"Certainly, Professor." She took Mrs. Fudge gently by the arm. "Come with me Mel; there's nothing we can do here." Mrs. Fudge blew her nose with a handkerchief and turned back for only a moment to catch Harry's eyes. He'd never seen so much sadness, so much loss, but he had felt it. Crying, she walked out of the ward and the door closed behind her leaving Professor Dumbledore at the foot of Harry's bed.

"Not a very Merry Christmas, I'm afraid," Professor Dumbledore said bleakly. "Fortunately, you're looking much better." Harry held up his hand, it was nearly normal. He sat up looking at his chest, thin but not emaciated.

"Professor, did you...?"

"Harry, the important thing is that you're better. It was a brave thing you did at the portrait to Gryffindor. Professor McGonagall tells me you saved her."

"But it's all my fault, Professor," argued Harry, shaking his head in disagreement. "If I hadn't --" Professor Dumbledore held up his hand.

"Let me finish, please, Mr. Potter." He waved his wand and slid the chair Ron had sat in next to Harry's bed. "They came to find you at Hogwarts, but you were gone. We have been preparing for such an attack for some time, particularly while I was ill. That is why Hagrid and Firenze built these caverns. The cave-in was unfortunate, and left Professor McGonagall behind. As she puts it, she would have lost her soul if it were not for you." Professor Dumbledore leaned back in the small chair. "But, knowing your desire to battle, why would you come here when the attacks were just outside your own back door at the Ministry in London?" Harry remained silent, but a knowing glint of blue flashed through the spectacles of the Headmaster.

"Harry, when I left for the hospital to meet Professor Tonks, I warned all present to be ready for a hasty retreat to the caverns. I thought they would be safe here. I'm curious how a Death Eater found his way in, when only students with the proper password are allowed to enter the passage from the forest. As I understand it, there were young witches and wizards among the group of Death Eaters."

Harry looked down at his hand and remembered the gash on his finger as he had squeezed through the stone entrance. Had Draco slashed his finger trying to alert him that he was being followed? Had he ignored that warning too?

"Hermione told us she saw Lucius Malfoy in the passage leading to Hogwarts. Indeed, I removed your wand from the hand of the arm he left behind before Professor Tonks took it away. There was another with him, Harry, a young wizard. Do you know who it was?" Dumbledore's blue eyes gleamed with kindness, but were unblinking.

Harry looked away. Draco's words came back to haunt him: "I need your word... your word you're in it all the way."

"No, sir," Harry lied, knowing that his own eyes told the truth.

"I see." Dumbledore nodded. He stood, straightening his robes, and moved the chair to the side of the wall with his wand. "I will inform the Aurors that you are free to go. I suggest you return home this afternoon to Little Whinging. Someone there needs you very deeply, and may require your special talents. I believe Mr. Weasley--" Just then Ron opened the door to the ward carrying a handful of clothes.

"Hey, mate, Professor," he said lightly, then stopped to take a second look. "Harry, here are your cl--" He gaped in amazement. He seemed stunned by Harry's sudden improvement. "Your hair... it's not white." Dumbledore smiled and walked to the door. Ron instantly started in on Harry asking how he had improved so quickly. The two were well into their conversation when the Headmaster interrupted with a question.

"Harry, are you sure you healed Lucius completely?" Without thinking, Harry looked up from Ron.

"Yes, sir. I'm...," he swallowed, "...sure." Harry bit his tongue. Dumbledore knowingly nodded and left the room.

"You what?" cried Ron. "Why would you possibly do anything to save the likes of that rat? So he and his boy prince can leave you for dead?"

"You don't know that, Ron," Harry shot back, trying to stay calm. "You heard Hermione, it could have been anybody."

"Was it?" asked Ron sharply. Harry paused, and in that instant he felt Ron try to enter his mind. They'd practiced so often before that Harry had come to know the sensation.

"Reducto!" Harry cried out, sending his clothes and Ron sailing into the wall. The Aurors immediately converged. Harry stood naked, reaching down and grabbing his garments as everyone watched. Ron lay splayed out on the floor beneath him. "Don't you ever, EVER, try that again!"

"Or what?" Ron sneered. "You'll whistle?"

A torrent of anger began to swell up in Harry, when a voice whispered in the back of his mind, "Purge yourself." Harry closed his eyes, and breathed deep. He stepped back from Ron, and set his clothes on the bed. He pulled on his trousers and his shirt, and began to lace up his trainers while Ron simply sat on the floor glaring up at him. Seemingly satisfied, the Aurors went back to watch their prisoners. Silent, Harry briskly slipped his wand in his pocket, walked over by Ron and grabbed his pack swinging it over his shoulder. He was about to leave when Ron spoke.

"Sorry," the redhead muttered. Harry stopped, paused for a moment and held out his hand.

"I know," he said, pulling Ron to his feet. Together, the two made their way back to the castle. For a long while they said nothing and then they came to the spot where Grawp had torn off Lucius' arm. Harry stopped, playing the scene out in his mind.

"It was here," Harry whispered. "He bound her in ropes, and then Grawp came around the corner."

"I don't care who it was, Harry," Ron said seething. "If I find out who struck down Hermione like that, I'll have Grawp skin him alive." Harry replayed the blast of white light in his mind.

"Ron, Lucius was going to kill her. Whoever knocked Hermione off her feet... he saved her life." Ron looked into Harry's eyes in disbelief. But Harry's eyes stayed true. "He saved her, Ron."

"You know who it was, don't you? Was it Greg? I'll bet it was Greg." Harry took Ron by the arm.

"I need some time to sort things out. I swear, I'll tell you all I know, when I can. Okay?" Harry asked solemnly, and Ron nodded in agreement.

When they finally emerged from the caverns, Harry thought they'd exited into the Forbidden Forest. They were surrounded by shrubs and trees, and a soft layer of snow covered the ground. It wasn't until he followed Ron a few more feet that he realized they were in Firenze's Divination classroom. The room looked empty, but then they heard the Centaur's voice.

"Hello Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter." He bowed his head. "It is good to see you both alive. But then... it was foretold. Last night belonged to the moon, not the warrior."

"Good to see you too, Firenze." Harry bowed his head. "The catacombs, they're brilliant." Firenze shook his head with disappointment.

"Professor McGonagall was left behind because of me. I should have planned for greater spells cast at the entrance."

"Easy enough to take care of isn't it?" said Harry with a smile. "And besides, she's fine. I just saw her downstairs."

"Yes," said Firenze in a very serious tone. "And for that, I am in your debt."

"Nonsense," said Ron emphatically. "You and Hagrid saved the entire school. At least those that were here. If there's anybody that needs thanking, it's the two of you."

"You are very kind, Ronald Weasley. I see why Hagrid speaks so highly of you." Ron seemed to take Firenze's words as quite the compliment. "Still, Harry Potter, know I am pledged to your service by oath. Your star is rising in the heavens. Take heart; I have consulted Orion, and you should survive the Cleansing." Harry bowed once more before he and Ron left the classroom.

"Merry Christmas, Firenze," they said together as the door shut behind them. In the corridor, Harry turned to Ron.

"Are they cleaning the school or something?" Harry asked. "Do you have any idea what that meant?"

"No, do you?" asked Ron back, but Harry shook his head. "Bloody Divination."

"Harry! Why are you out of --" Hermione stopped her own sentence, astonished at Harry's recovery. "I... I was just coming down to see you. They said that Fudge had died, but nobody knew about you, and I was sure..." She leapt at Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck. Pulling back she wiped her face with her sleeve. "So help me if you try to die on us again, I'll kill you."

Together, they walked toward Gryffindor tower. As the three passed the entrance hall they saw Professor McGonagall saying goodbye to Mrs. Fudge. Their Head of House shut the doors and turned to find them looking at her.

"Well, this is fortunate," she called out, seemingly unchanged by the night's events. "It's Christmas Day, and neither one of you are where you need to be. Follow me." Her hair pulled back tightly in a bun, she walked briskly toward her office as if nothing was the least bit out of the ordinary. They passed through her office doors, and she opened a cabinet behind her desk with a flick of her wand. Reaching to the top shelf she pulled out three small boxes. "Professor Dumbledore has arranged for each of you to return home by Portkey."

"But --"

"Yes, I'm sure you three have much scheming to attend to, but today is a time to be with family. Miss Granger, your parents have been told you were NOT spending the night at your grandmother's house. They know you are well, but I suggest you try a dose of truth." Ron and Harry looked shocked as Professor McGonagall held up one of the boxes to Hermione. "They're waiting for you now." Hermione sheepishly looked at Ron and Harry.

"Merry Christmas," she said with a smile. She kissed Ron lightly on the lips, and then took hold of the silver sphere within the box and disappeared.

"Mr. Weasley, I believe you know what conversation is being held with your mother at this time." She held up a box for him. "Your father will arrive by floo shortly. Please let you brother know that my thoughts are with him."

"Thank you, Professor," Ron replied. "Merry Christmas. Harry, stop by if you can. It'll mean a lot for Mum."

"I will," said Harry quietly. Ron took the orb and vanished. Professor McGonagall reached up and adjusted her glasses. She set the last box down on her desk and turned to Harry.

"The rumor rounding the school is that I saved your life, single handedly destroying one hundred Dementors, and then I took a nap to rest by the fire." Harry began to grin. "Professor Flitwick is still fit to be tied. Every time he sees me, he curses himself for worrying so much."

"Well," said Harry, "it was nearly a hundred." But then the smile washed away as the memory flashed across his eyes. "I... I just took care of the last few." A cool shiver spread out across his back, and he began to tremble. He turned, ashamed, trying to focus his attention on one of the books in her office. Professor McGonagall pulled him around and hugged him in her arms.

"I think you were meant to return to the castle while the Headmaster was away, Harry," she whispered. "Somehow he always knows." She pulled back and wiped the tears from her face with her hands. "I wish you were returning to more happiness, Harry, but I'm afraid that's not the case." She reached in her pocket and pulled out a golden chain. "This has been in my family for many years." She held it up to reveal a gold charm in the shape of a lion and baring two ruby red eyes. "The house signet was based on this design," she reflected as she placed it around Harry's neck. "When times seem bleak, let it bring you strength, let it bring you courage." Harry was dumbstruck, unsure what to say.

"Th-Thank you, Professor," he stuttered.

"Thank you, Harry," she replied. Her eyes were sad as she held up the box. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter."

"Merry Christmas," he answered, not sure what to think of her expression. He took the silver ball in his hand and felt his navel being snatched from within. He was swirling wildly, and just when he was thankful he hadn't had breakfast, he stopped, landing feet first in the middle of the Dursley living room.

He dropped his pack and, seeing Uncle Vernon's chair, flopped down and let out a long, long exhale. It felt as if, for the moment at least, the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He thought about going to see Gabriella, but the comfort of the chair convinced him to close his eyes and rest for just a moment. He was about ready to nod off, when a car door slammed shut from outside. Curious, he stood to see what it was.

He peaked through the front blinds, and found Privet Drive lined with cars. On the grass, stepping to the front door of Gabriella's house was Wes Tucker. He had his arm around a girl in a long black coat. She was crying. Someone Harry vaguely remembered answered the door and let the two inside. Within a minute, Harry was across the street knocking himself. The same person answered. He was short with black hair, and very blue eyes. Harry remembered him from Duncan's birthday party... Todd something.

"Gabriella?" Harry asked. "Where's Gabriella?"

"You're, Harry, right?" Todd asked.

"Yeah." Harry stepped inside. The house was crowded and many were crying. "Where's..." He saw her sitting next to her mother and holding Duncan's hand. She looked up and saw him and instantly sprang to her feet, rushing toward him and squeezing him tight.

"Thank, God. Thank, God." She was shaking in his arms. "We've been up all night, and then Cho sent an owl this morning that said Hogwarts had been attacked, and that people had died, and that you were there, and I thought..." She squeezed tighter.

"I'm fine," Harry whispered. "Everything's going to be fine." She sniffed and, still shaking, buried her head tight against Harry's chest.

"Oh, Harry. I would have died if I had lost you too." Harry looked around and suddenly realized that Grigor was nowhere to be seen. Thinking her father might have died and how exactly that might have happened, the blood began to drain from his face. He held her close.

"Why, Gabriella? What's happened?" His heartbeat quickened. She began to break down and cry in heaving sobs. "What's happened?" As Gabriella continued to cry, Todd walked up behind Harry and put his hand on his shoulder.

"It's Emma, Harry. We found out a few hours ago. She was killed in Paris."