Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 53 - Awakenings

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"Three... Two... One... Happy New Year!"

Champagne glasses clinked and kisses shared with hugs more plentiful than the chocolate frogs under Harry's floorboards. The kitchen in Grimmauld Place was packed to overflowing with wizards and witches from the Order. Many, Harry had never seen before. There was another pat on Ron's back. Everyone was grinning from ear to ear, and even Mad-Eye seemed giddy with happiness. Again, another pat on Ron's back. Though the morning looked destined for disaster, the day had gone spectacularly well. Another pat, and this time Ron winced. Harry knew Ron's scars were already swollen, and he wondered how much worse they were getting from everyone congratulating him.

It was odd not being the center of attention; a small part of him was jealous. After all, it was his idea. If it weren't for him, Neville and Luna would still be locked away. But in a day of miracles, the rescue of his classmates was already overcome by events. Mrs. Weasley quickly gathered up the champagne glasses from the youths in the room. When she took the glass out of Harry's hand, her eyes were quite cool. Once again, Harry had led her son into danger, although he wondered how she could think that, since the story had been told a dozen times of how Ron was the first to enter the Burrow, and how he was first to enter Voldemort's lair, although he still couldn't say the name himself.

The room was buzzing with the name Ron. Ron this... Ron that... interspersed with the occasional 'Frank' or 'Alice', and the redhead seated in the center of the room, still pale from the day's events, was soaking it up. He had spent the last six years in Harry's shadow and before that his own brothers'. Now the limelight was brightly shining in his face and Harry hoped he wouldn't get too sunburned.

"It is a blessing, when we turn our curses into gifts," whispered Gabriella in Harry's ear. The room was noisy and it was hard to hear. Harry nodded, but weighed the gift against the curse and wondered which would win in the end.

They had arrived at St Mungo's, and Neville began screaming madly, but Ron was able to calm him with his mind. Over the course of the morning, Ron could communicate with Neville in a way that no one else was able. By lunch, with Ron's help Harry was talking to Neville, and soon his mind seemed completely free of the agony placed on it by Voldemort's Cruciatus curse. It was mid afternoon when a healer in red robes came down and called Ron out into the hallway. A look of fear came across Ron's face, and at first he said he couldn't do it.

"Do what?" Harry asked.

"My head's already pounding, Harry," he whispered. "I really had to concentrate on Neville. I tell you... my head's pounding." Harry looked at the back of his neck, and saw that the scars were raised and red.

"What do they want you to do?"

"The Longbottoms," Ron swallowed.

"You can't be serious?"

"Try at least," Ron shrugged.

"You know what happened when..."

"Yeah, I know," Ron interrupted. He pulled his fingers through his red hair and sighed. "Will you come? Maybe stop me if I go too far?"

"How 'bout I stop you right now?" Harry scolded, but Ron looked back with solid eyes. He was going with or without Harry, and so Harry climbed the stairs with his friend and the healer.

It was agony watching Ron contort in pain. The room was silent, as Ron sat holding Alice Longbottom's hand. Her gray hair hung down about her shoulders, and the lines of her face showed a pain that dared not speak its name. At first, she was frightened when Ron reached to her with his mind, but then she calmed. Then, although Ron seemed to wince every so often, Alice was quiet, occasionally nodding her head and smiling. Her husband Frank was oblivious to what was happening. He was speaking to an imaginary someone or something in a landscape portrait on the wall.

The scars on the nape of Ron's neck began to stretch about his ears like Morning Glory spreading toward the sun. Again, Ron winced in a silent burst of pain and this time Harry decided enough was enough. He stood and walked over to stop the mind meld... when it happened. Alice opened her eyes and held her hand to the side of Ron's face.

"Well of course you're a Weasley, dear," she said quietly. "Look at that hair. Your father's was much longer at your age. Where is Arthur anyway?" They were the first cogent sentences she had put together in fifteen years.

The healer gasped. Ron, eyes closed, was still trying to link, his face contorted in distress.

"Ron?" Harry called. There was no answer. "Ron!" he yelled again, shaking his best friend. Finally, he blinked and looked up, not at Harry, but at the Healer.

"You know, I hate the chicken dumplings here, and would you tell Millicent to brush her teeth?" he complained in an affected voice. He let go of Alice's hand, and fell backwards into Harry's arms. He was pale, weak, and trembled slightly.

"My god, Vincent!" said Alice Longbottom, looking straight at the healer in red. "You're a healer, aren't you? Help the poor lad!"

Flabbergasted, Vincent quickly gave Ron a potion that helped with the pain, and calmed his nerves. Then, he treated his back, bathing it in a blue light. The swelling lessened slightly, but Harry could see that the scars that had taken weeks to reduce were now back worse than ever. Everyone, including Mrs. Longbottom, wanted Ron to wait at least a day before trying to reach into Frank Longbottom's mind, but he was insistent.

"I can do this," he said determinedly.

Two hours later, Frank and Alice were holding each other tightly. Their minds weren't all together clear, but with each passing minute another layer of fog seemed to lift from their memories. It was as if they had been released from a fifteen-year immobulus hex. They remembered all the attempts at treatment, all the visits, all the stories that Gran had told them of the events in the world, all the times Neville--

"Neville..." Alice Longbottom said in a soft voice. "Where's Neville? He... He's about your age I believe." No sooner had she asked, than the door swung open and their son walked in followed by his grandmother and another healer in red.

"Mum?" he asked in disbelief. For the first time that he could remember, he looked up to find blue eyes that looked back with recognition. Her graying hair seemed somewhat darker and healthier, and the lines about her eyes weren't lines of pain, but of joy. "Mum?" he asked again, stepping cautiously into the room. She smiled broadly, and opened her arms wide, and in an instant Neville was holding her tight.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered to her son. "I... I..." she broke down in tears, holding the son she had watched grow into a man, unable to tell him how much she loved him, only able to give him a simple token of how proud she was of the man he was becoming.

Frank Longbottom looked for the longest time at his own mother standing by the door. She was stunned, unable to take in what she was seeing. Frank flashed her the smile that had charmed many a witch and wizard in his youth, and then stepped over to his son. "S-So you're a G-Gryffindor, eh?" His words were shaky, but his thoughts clear. "I used to s-sneak your mum into the Gryffindor c-common room after hours. C-cost me a month of detentions when I was caught. Did your Gran ever tell you?" Neville looked at his dad and shook his head smiling.

"Of course, I didn't!" Gran Longbottom puffed. "Why would I fill the boy's head with such a terrible example of behavior?"

One of the healers tapped Harry on the shoulder. Looking to his side, Ron had fallen asleep. Together, Harry and the healer took Ron out of the room for treatment, as the Longbottoms began a reunion of a lifetime.

They were halfway down the hall when the door burst open and Neville ran down the corridor to meet them.

"Is he okay?" Neville asked with concern.

"Yes, he's okay," said Ron smugly, trying to stand taller, tipping, and then holding tightly to Harry's arm.

"I owe you Ron," said Neville solemnly. "You too, Harry. On my honor, as long as I live--"

"Get back in there, Neville," said Harry determinedly.

"That's right," Ron added. "You don't owe us anything." Then Ron smiled. "Except maybe a nice plant for Mum. She was a bit chafed no one gave her flowers for Christmas." Neville grinned, and ran back to join his family. Ron slumped the moment Neville left, and for the next few hours the healer became the patient.

Now, he sat in the middle of the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, and whatever fatigue or pain he was experiencing, Harry couldn't tell. Ron was all smiles, surrounded by the Order of the Phoenix. When word got out about the rescue, nearly all of them had Apparated en masse to the Burrow. They found the Weasley home empty. Then word came that the Longbottoms, though still at St. Mungo's for observation, had miraculously recovered. Nearly everyone now in the kitchen had gone by to visit them. Between the clinking of glasses and mugs, all were sharing stories of times past when the Longbottoms and the Potters carried the day for the Order. They were stories Harry had never heard before, stories of defiance and victory over Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

"Three times I tell you!" It was Mad-Eye who turned toward Harry and raised his glass. "To James and Lily Potter!"

"Here-Here!" the room called out, and then drank to his parents' memory.

Harry tried to smile, but found himself clenching his teeth, and squeezing Gabriella's hand far too tightly.

"Come on," she said, pulling him to the door, as the group once again placed their attention upon Ron. The two emerged into the entryway where a handful of members were quietly chatting. It was cooler out here, and Harry took in a deep breath. "You hate that, don't you?" Gabriella asked. Harry nodded.

"I never knew my parents. I never will."

"No?" questioned Gabriella. "Mama says when we pass on we leave behind an imprint of ourselves in all those whose lives we've touched. I think that, tonight, I've met your parents. They were brave, and kind, and most of all, they loved their son very, very much." Harry said nothing, but nodded ever so slightly. Again, he took a deep breath.

"Neville got his parents back today," he said. "Mine are gone forever." Then he took Gabriella by the arm and led her in toward the study. "But, there's someone I can bring back," he whispered, excitedly. "I thought I'd hear by now."

"Bring back?" Gabriella asked, confused.

"Yes," he said, with a smile that reminded Gabriella of his expression before crashing the motorcycle late last summer. "That's probably why she's not here right now."

"Who?"

"I gave her my blood. I would have thought--"

"Your blood?" she exclaimed.

"She needed it for--"

"Hi, guys." Hermione walked in through the study doors. "Terribly hot in the kitchen, don't you think?"

"Hi, Hermione," Gabriella answered kindly. "It's a shame we can't open the front door, and keep it open, don't you think?"

"That would be nice," Hermione said, fanning herself, and flopping down in one of the chairs. Harry just glowered, ready to explode, but Gabriella squeezed his arm.

"Do you think any of the Order might be able to find a way to cool the house off? Certainly, one of them would be capable," Gabriella suggested.

"I don't think we need the Order," Hermione replied, a bit put off. "Properly placed, a simple cooling charm would work."

"Really?" Gabriella replied with interest. "I've never seen such a charm." Hermione rose and pulled her wand.

"Right outside the kitchen will do the trick, you'll see... just a moment." The moment Hermione stepped out the doorway, Gabriella unzipped Harry's sleeve and pulled out his invisibility cloak. When Hermione returned they were gone. "Harry? Gabriella?" She looked about for a bit then turned back toward the door. "Damn," she hissed, and stepped out.

Gabriella was holding Harry from behind when she pulled him backwards against the wall, and together they quietly slid down to the floor. One hand was against his waist the other against his chest.

"That was brilliant," he chuckled.

"I thought... last night," Gabriella began. "I knew something was wrong, but you pulled your hand away." Her fingers were pressing into his chest and the feeling was not comfortable.

"Hey, that kinda--"

"Tell me who drained your blood," she said with a fierce edge in her voice. "Hermione?"

"No! Are you kidding? And she didn't drain me. It's not like she's a vampire or something."

"WHO?" She pressed her fingers further into his skin. There was a nerve there, and a sudden burning sensation spread across his chest.

"Tonks, okay? Tonks." Gabriella softened the pressure. "She found a way to bring my godfather, her cousin, back from behind the curtain. She said... she said today it would be done, but no one's seen her. Something must have gone wrong." Harry relaxed, leaning back against Gabriella.

"There are very few arts that ask for blood, and nearly all of them are dark. Are you sure she can be trusted?" Harry didn't answer the question. Instead he asked his own.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" he exclaimed. "She's going to bring back Sirius."

There was a distant, but familiar creak, as the front door to Grimmauld Place swung open. A draft of cold air swirled in the study. A voice called, "Harry!" There was banter out in the entranceway.

"Nymphradora, how grand to see you! My you've grown."

"Fine to see you too, sir. Have you seen Harry?"

"I believe he's in the kitchen."

Harry pulled to get up, but Gabriella held him fast. He couldn't move. "Harry, there's something not right about this."

"That's crazy," he hissed.

"Do you trust me?" she asked quietly. There was no response. "Wait until she comes into the study. She's looking for you, so she will. When you show yourself, see how she reacts." Gabriella released her grip, but Harry stayed seated with her on the floor. They listened as Tonks tried the kitchen, called upstairs, then finally walked into the study. Finding it empty, she slammed the door and cursed, turning her back to the two beneath the invisibility cloak and pounding her forehead against the wood of the door.

"No, oh no, oh no," she muttered to herself over and over. Gabriella poked Harry in the side of the ribs, and he slipped out from under the cloak. Tonks heard the sound and spun wildly, her wand pointed directly at Harry's eyes.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed holding up his hands. "Bit fast on the draw there, aren't you Tonks?"

"HARRY!" she breathed. Then she narrowed her eyes looking behind him. "But I've been calling."

"Yeah, people have been hounding me all day. I just curled up under the cloak and took a nap. Sorry," he said, feigning a yawn, lifting his glasses with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. "So, have you tried yet?"

Tonks was clearly agitated. She had a look of panic in her eyes that Harry had never seen before. It took her some time before she finally lowered her wand. "No. Yes. I... I tried. It didn't work," she said completely frustrated. The revelation struck Harry hard, and he fell into the moment.

"It didn't work? But I thought--"

"I know!" Tonks yelled. She fell into one of the chairs, covering her face with her hands. "I know."

"I should have been there to help you. I should have--"

"No," Tonks snapped, standing again. The movement was unnatural. "No. That... that would be too risky."

"Did you set the right code? I mean, maybe if you--"

"Yes, damn it! Everything was the way it was supposed to be." She began to pace the room, and at one point Harry thought for sure she would trip over Gabriella hidden in the corner. "Your blood, Malfoy's blood, the basin, the code... it was perfect. It should have worked, but nothing. Now... now I'm in trouble."

"Trouble?" Harry asked. "What do you mean? No one knows but me, right? They didn't see you, did they?"

"What?" Tonks muttered distracted. "No, they didn't see me." She took a long deep breath trying to steady her nerves. "Don't listen to me, Harry. I'm just a bit nervous is all. I thought we would have them... er... him tonight. I thought Sirius would return." The room was cooling, but still a bit too warm for Harry. Even so, Tonks walked over to the fire. The flames flickered high, and the embers burned hot, but even as she stood next to it to warm herself, she trembled. Harry came over and put his arm about her shoulder.

"We just have to try again, that's all. I'll look once more at the riddle. Maybe we missed something."

"Maybe," she whispered, staring into the flames. Harry holding her, she gazed into the fire for quite some time. Eventually, the trembling stopped, and the fear holding her eyes captive vanished. She turned placing her hand to his face. "Harry... I-I need... I--" There was a rap at the door, and the two turned. A charm was cast and the door unlocked. Tonks began to reach for her wand just as Hermione entered.

"Harry. Tonks," she said, smiling. "I thought the room was empty. Where's Gabriella, is she cooler now?" Tonks suddenly became nervous once more and began scanning the room.

"I think she's upstairs," Harry said, clenching his teeth again and looking directly at Hermione with eyes that would burn. "Perhaps you should go check." Hermione didn't reply. Instead she nodded and turned to leave, but then stopped.

"Oh, Tonks," she said. "Hestia was looking for you... something about having to cover your watch at the Ministry. She didn't seem too happy." Hermione shrugged, and walked out the door. Stepping to the door herself, Tonks watched her leave then swung around to Harry. Again, Harry thought the movement odd.

"We'll talk about this again... back at school. We must. Maybe we just rushed things. I-I think we might have time... I hope," she whispered. "Just... just don't tell anybody, okay? Especially Hermione, she'll stop us for sure."

Harry nodded. "You're right. We'll take our time. If there's any chance at all, we need to do it right."

Tonks started walking toward the door then stopped looking about the room one last time. "Yes... at school," she said, heading out the door and toward the kitchen.

With the door open, Harry felt another cool breeze rush past him toward the fire. He turned expecting to see something or someone, but no one was there. A shiver ran down his spine, and he wasn't sure why. A moment later, Gabriella was out from under the cloak and at his side.

"What do you say we go home and you tell me what this is all about?" she suggested. "In case you didn't already notice, Hermione is clearly on to you."

Harry silently nodded, rolling his fingers into a fist.

"She's your friend, right?" she asked softly. "She's probably only worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Harry asked sharply. "She's up to something, and it's not just snogging Ron behind the statues in Gryffindor tower." He shook his head. "If she's worried, she's worried I'm breaking the rules, and I don't think I'm playing by the rules right now. But then, it's not her godfather, is it?" This time Harry paused a moment and looked about the room. "Yeah, I'm ready to get out of here. If Ron wants to blow a gasket in his noggin, let him; and if Hermione sticks her nose in any further, I'll just have to nip it off, won't I?" He pushed the cloak into the sleeve of his jacket, took her by the hand, and quickly walked out of the study to use the floo. They skipped the kitchen, avoiding any pleasantries, but just as Harry reached for some powder, the front door opened. Remus Lupin stepped in wearing a toothy grin, followed by the same scowling and sullen Professor Snape.

"It's a miracle, I tell you Severus," Remus said, brushing a dusting of snow off his cloak. He looked for a hook to hang his cloak by, but finding them all full, opted to toss it onto the floor with the many others. "I've got to see Ron."

"Ah, yes," Professor Snape drawled. "Hogwarts has now replaced Saint Potter with Saint Weasley. Pathetic... truly pathetic." He too pulled off his cloak. Only, instead of dropping it to the floor he pulled his wand, cast a spell at the wall, and hung the garment there.

"You know that'll leave a mark, Severus," scolded Remus.

"I highly doubt that Sirius much cares at this point."

"It's Harry's home now, and you know that Molly will mind."

Professor Snape rolled his eyes, ignoring the correction in etiquette, and slipping his wand away. As Snape turned more fully into the light, Gabriella let out an almost imperceptible gasp.

"I know him," she whispered from behind. "Severus Snape. He came to visit Papa, about a month ago." She took a step backward behind Harry shielding her face behind his hair now hanging wildly about his neck. The move was not like her, and it was as if a switch had been flipped inside Harry. He suddenly disliked Professor Snape much less than normal, and that was saying a lot. Harry's right arm began to burn, and the powder in his hand slipped through his fingers, scattering to the floor. The two moved away from the fireplace and next to the column by the staircase.

"I don't understand," Harry whispered back, as Lupin and Snape continued to argue near entrance. "I thought you severed all ties with--"

"I thought so too," she said. "And look at me, here with all of you. If Severus sees me, Papa will know that--"

"He won't see you." Harry reached in to grab his cloak, but as he did so his elbow hit a candle stand and both Lupin and Snape looked over toward the noise. Swift as a cat, Gabriella swung behind the column. Seeing only Harry but maybe more, Professor Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Potter," Snape sneered. "What a shame to find you here. But then, I should have expected such. You have no real home, do you?" Holding Snape's eyes with contempt in his own, Harry moved away from the staircase and toward the front door. As hoped, the professor kept eye contact and turned with his back to Gabriella. "Still playing the orphaned, unloved, foster child to the Weasleys." More flame began to pour into Harry's veins.

"Severus, really," Remus scolded. "Leave the boy--"

"What's it like not being the center of attention, Potter?" pressed Professor Snape, turning his lips up in something of a smile as he stepped closer to Harry. "Are you finally fading into the shadows where you've always belonged?" Harry's eyes were raging, and Professor Snape enjoyed the sight he'd missed for so long. He didn't know why, but he was getting to Harry at last. "No. I think not. You'll try some new fool stunt and get someone else killed again."

"Severus!" Remus yelled.

Harry was going to reach for his wand when the choking started in his throat, like a fur-ball needing to be dislodged. When he spat it out, all that emerged was a quavering whistle. Snape began to cackle. Harry had never heard him laugh before, and the sound was revolting. Still whistling, Harry reached for his wand, pointing it at Snape's two beady eyes, and in an instant the cackle stopped. Snape, still smirking, slowly pointed his own wand back. Harry continued to whistle, his eyes filled with hatred toward the Professor.

"Please, Potter," he spat. "Make this easy. Or, has the cat got your tongue?"

Angered, Gabriella stepped out, tall and defiant, from behind the column. When Snape saw her, his face contorted with a look of bewilderment and shock. She charged, and Snape cast the first spell at her. Harry didn't say it, he couldn't, but his thoughts were focused and even while he whistled, a shield charm burst from his wand and deflected the spell meant for Gabriella. It hit the wall under the staircase, and sprayed wood shards everywhere. Snape gaped in astonishment.

Remus pulled his own wand unsure where to point, but it didn't matter. On instinct, Snape spun and expelled it. Harry wanted to fire at Snape, but Gabriella was too close, and closing in. Snape's reflex to expel Remus' wand, though quick was not quick enough. The distraction gave her but a split second. She needed only half that time. Her foot struck Snape's forearm, and a loud crack reverberated about the entryway. His wand fell, clattering to the floor. With a sweep of her other leg, Snape lost his footing and was splayed out on his back. In a flash, she was on top of him holding his neck with her left hand, her right ready to strike.

"How do you know my father?" she commanded. She leaned her knee into his broken arm twisted on the floor. Snape winced in pain.

The kitchen was emptying and all stopped, stunned by the sight. Wands were quickly drawn just as Harry stepped between the members of the Order, and Gabriella towering above her prey. His arm ached, the pain beading perspiration on his forehead.

"Put the wand down and step aside, Potter!" Mad-Eye yelled.

"Don't make another move, Professor," Harry said stiffly. "This is my home, and some of the guests have been behaving badly."

Mad-Eye ignored his words and stepped forward reaching for his wand. Harry responded instantly. A tremendous flash of light erupted, not at the group in front of him, but at the ceiling above. The second floor came crashing down sending the members of the Order running for cover, and burying some under the rubble.

"You know my father," Gabriella yelled at Snape. "How is that?" Again she leaned on Snape's broken arm, only this time her hand twisted the side of his neck making his legs shake violently. Clenching his teeth, almost smiling, he remained defiantly silent.

"Immobulus!"

Harry spun to find Remus holding his wand. On the floor lay Professor Snape, stiff as a board.

"Murus!" Remus yelled. A shimmering wall appeared between the members of the Order and the four now in the entryway. Remus walked over to Professor Snape as Gabriella stood and slowly backed away. He looked down at the victim on the floor. "You'd kill her if you had the chance, wouldn't you Severus?" He reached down and pulled a small dagger out of Snape's good hand. He held it up to his face, examining the silver blade. "Not very sporting of you." Remus turned toward Harry and Gabriella. Harry half-heartedly held his wand up at Remus, just as Gabriella took his side. Remus simply sighed. He wanted to say something. Harry could see it in his eyes... something important... something wise. "Go home you two," was all he could muster.

"But..." Harry halted, to the ceiling.

"I don't know, Harry. Just go home, and stay there. We'll figure the rest out later."

"But this man..." said Gabriella fiercely, "he's been in my home. He knows my father! And now he pulls his wand on Harry. Who is he?"

"This man is Professor Severus Snape, and one of the finest wizards at Hogwarts," Remus said quite sincerely. "Your father is a Professor as well, is he not?" Gabriella reticently nodded, still having difficulty placing Snape in both worlds. "It does not seem so strange to me. But... if he should come to visit your father again, and I were you, I might stay locked in my room until he leaves. Now go!" Remus flicked his wand and it popped with a loud snap, making them jump. He didn't need to ask again.

When they emerged into number four, Privet Drive, Gabriella was both confused and furious. Harry, however, was laughing. Not from joy or mirth, but in a sort of nervous release of unspent energy that found no other way to express itself. He felt like rolling on the floor, but it was too disgusting.

"What are you laughing about?" Gabriella yelled.

"That's it," said Harry slapping his hands together. "I'm out. Not only did I use magic out of school, I used it to attack the Order." He laughed again, and pulled her close. "I'm practically a Muggle already. I can feel it!" He kissed her briskly on the lips and walked into the kitchen. "That is, if they don't send me to Azkaban." He opened a cupboard and pulled down two glasses. "I wonder if Duncan will give me my old job back. The kid he's got working at the shop now is a right git." He filled the glasses with ice then grabbed a chair and slid it next to the icebox. Stepping up and reaching into the back corner of the cupboard above the icebox, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "Vernon's private stash." He smirked, raising his eyebrows up and down. "Join me?"

"Harry, put that away," she scolded, but he didn't listen, and filled both glasses.

He held one up examining the golden liquid. The reflection in the glass seemed to glint two dots of red, and whatever smile Harry was trying to push forward faded away. He wished it could all be over, but wishing didn't make it so. Was the Dark Lord dead? Had Harry killed him at last? No. He was alive. Weak, but alive. Somehow, inside, Harry knew. He also knew one thing more--Gabriella's father was a dark wizard. There was no other explanation for Snape's meeting with him, but he could never tell her that. He could feel the walls closing in around him.

"They'll take my wand away," he whispered, and then tossed the contents of the glass down his throat. "Maybe worse," he rasped. He began to pour again, but Gabriella took his hand.

"Don't be silly." She smiled sadly. "Like Atlas, you've been dealt a cruel trick and the weight of the world now rests on your shoulders. If something happens to you, we would all fall into oblivion." She put her arms about him. "Tell me, Harry, how is it that Asha should bring us together? My Titan. My love." She pulled him close.

There was cheering and the popping of crackers outside in the street, as revelers made their way back to their homes. Where was Harry's home? Since the moment he first saw the castle, he had always thought Hogwarts, save for the one glimmering moment when he held hope his home would be with Sirius. But now both possibilities would soon be taken away. No, home would be here. Holding her in his arms, he looked at the disastrous living room, and then considered the burnt out shell of a room upstairs. He would definitely have to start cleaning tomorrow. But tonight... tonight he was sure that Dudley wouldn't mind lending Harry his room. It was a new year, after all, what could possibly happen?