Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 60 - Bad Timing

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"I'm telling you I know what it is, Tonks," Harry cried for the fourth time, but she continued to ignore him as she levitated the pillows back against the wall. It was the eve of Valentine's Day, and Harry had called a DA meeting. It was the only way he could think to get Tonks alone. Lately, she had been chatting more and more with Firenze, and the few chances Harry had to speak with her over the weekend, she seemed to deliberately go the other way.

She adjusted the books on the shelves, and then slipped her wand away and started for the door. "A very good session, I believe, Harry," she said with not much expression at all, and continued to leave.

"Why are you doing this?" he said to her back. She walked out into the hall. Harry was exasperated. "Then I want it back!" he said sharply. This caused her to halt her step. "I want the basin, and his blood. I'll do it myself."

"That's not possible," she replied without turning around.

"You started this, Tonks. Not me. I won't give up now... now that I know..."

"You know nothing," she sliced, turning back to face him. "Leave it alone, Harry."

"He's your family," Harry pleaded. "Why won't you..."

"I can't," she said, stepping closer. Her eyes dashed up and down the corridor, and then settled back on Harry. "The thing is..."

"Professor Tonks..." said a slinking voice appearing from nowhere. "Mr. Potter," it sneered. Harry didn't need to turn to know that Snape stood just behind him. Harry's jaw clenched in anger. Not now!

"Professor Snape," Tonks said with an overly professional tone. Harry remained silent. "We were just finishing with tonight's DA meeting."

"Yes... yes I know," Snape drawled. "Another perfectly good night wasted on such drivel, when the students should be studying. No doubt you'll be as ill-prepared for tomorrow's class as anyone, Potter. Although, morning classes seem hardly worthwhile since everyone will have their minds on Hogsmeade and their moronic romance plans. Valentines..." he breathed in a long low sigh of disgust.

"No, sir," Harry replied as he turned to see the Slytherin Head of House. He wondered if Snape ever... no, no he didn't wonder. "Er... yes, sir," Harry corrected, and Snape rolled his eyes in dramatic fashion, and waved the back of his hand at Harry as if shooing away a fly.

"Professor Tonks, if I might have a word," Snape asked, turning distinctly to push Harry out of the conversation. She glanced at Harry, and then back to Snape.

"Certainly, Professor. Harry we can continue our talk tomorrow. Do you have any moronic plans for Hogsmeade tomorrow afternoon?"

"Actually," said Harry, his eyes glaring, "I had my mind set on a trip to the Ministry... if only I had a..."

"Very funny, Potter," Snape cut in. "Good evening." He positioned himself squarely between Harry and Tonks, facing Tonks and then holding her lightly by the elbow and walking with her down the corridor and away from Harry who stood and watched as they turned the corridor. He shook his head; what had changed?

He was halfway back to Gryffindor when he heard footsteps following behind. He turned to look, but only found an empty corridor, and so started on his way. A bit further, he heard them again, only this time he spun quickly and caught site of a dark cloak ducking into an empty classroom. "Who's there?" Harry yelled, slipping his fingers about his wand. He had much preferred the tingling sensation he had before Christmas that signaled when an attack was immanent, but that sixth sense had long passed since his visit to the falls. "I know you're there. Come out!"

"Why don't you step in?" a familiar voice drawled from within. Harry knew it was Malfoy, but why was he following him? He pulled his wand and held it at the ready as he approached the door. His overly cautious entrance only made the Slytherin laugh as Harry entered the classroom.

"Afraid you'll be molested, Potter?" Malfoy sneered.

"What's going on, Draco?" Harry asked, looking to see if there were others, but he found the room empty. In a flash, Malfoy pulled his wand, pointed it at Harry, and the door slammed behind him. Harry wasn't sure why he made no attempt to shield for such a provocative motion. It was as if he was seeing the Malfoy of old... spry, quick, capable, and sickeningly snobbish. A smile creased Harry's face. "Feeling better?" he asked.

"Maybe," Malfoy smirked back. His gray eyes were clear, his skin pale but healthy, and his hair as coifed as ever. Nonetheless, Harry noticed a slight tremor in Malfoy's wand hand, a lingering remnant of his addiction to the potions concocted by his father. "Tego," he whispered, causing the walls to glow white.

"That damn house-elf is still following me. Pomfrey doesn't know why you're healed, and she's convinced that my using potions may be an indication of my impending madness." He slipped his wand away and hunched back in a chair behind the classroom desk. "If you ask me, and you should, I'm the only one sane around here. It's the rest of them that are as mad as a chimaera." His face twisted, as he looked into space. The result was not flattering, and reminded Harry of the Malfoy he'd seen in the dungeons.

"What is it, Draco?" Harry asked. "What do you want?" Malfoy's eyes shifted and came to rest on Harry.

"So what are the student and the professor up to?"

"I don't know what..."

"You know very bloody well what I'm talking about!" Malfoy snapped, sitting up straight in his chair.

"Where the hell do you get off, yelling at me?" Harry yelled back, striding up to the desk and glaring down at the blonde. "I don't need to..."

"She'll ruin everything!" Malfoy interrupted. He took to his feet and walked over to a window that looked out to the Quidditch pitch at the back of the castle. For a Malfoy, he was far more moody than normal.

"You're beginning to sound like Hermione," Harry said dismissively.

"Well, the mudblood... er, damn it, Harry, your friend is right. I heard Bellatrix talking about her over Christmas, about something she would bring to the Dark Lord. Snape... and now Tonks! He'll have control of the whole inner castle before too long. Don't trust her; don't trust any of them. If you do, it shifts the power to his favor, and we lose." Hearing these words, in such contrast to Malfoy's feelings at the beginning of the New Year, Harry couldn't help but feel he was being manipulated.

"Don't tell me the Death Eater's son has had a change of heart," said Harry, stepping close to Malfoy. They were toe-to-toe by the window and Harry leaned closer. "Because you... don't... have... one." Harry could smell the cologne on Malfoy's face. It was expensive -- but clean hair and fresh clothes didn't mean a drug addict wasn't a drug addict. How long would it be before Malfoy relapsed? The one person Harry couldn't trust stood right before him. Still, the instant the words left Harry's mouth, he wanted them back. Malfoy needed support and Harry could tell by the look in his eyes that he'd been hurt. Perhaps last year, Harry would have taken satisfaction in that fact, but not now, not anymore. Had he been wrong? If he was, it was too late to take it back. Malfoy turned sharply away from the window.

"Draco, you said this war was about power," Harry said quietly, "and maybe it is, but I won't try to win the battle that way... I can't, it's just not in me. I have to try another way."

"And what way is that, Harry? Love?" Malfoy's lips were thin and his eyes were fire. All year the two had gone round and round and still found themselves back at the beginning. Malfoy was trembling with fury, but why?

"Is love so bad?" Harry asked softly.

"So, she'll be here, tomorrow, is that it? You're planning a little tryst?" The questions were sharp.

"Tonks?" Harry asked, confused.

"Gabriella," Malfoy said in an acerbically innocent tone. "It is Valentine's after all, and you two are... lovers, aren't you?" Harry remained silent, but his hands rounded into fists. Lately, Harry hadn't kept her much of a secret, but how did Malfoy know about Gabriella? And even if he did know, why would he care? The Slytherin pressed the advantage he knew he held. "Don't tell me she'll be staying home alone, with her sick mother," he said, placing his hand over his chest in a fake expression of concern. "That could be very dangerous... don't you think, Potter?"

In less than a second, Harry had Malfoy pinned to the floor, with one hand pulled back, ready to strike. "If you... if they lay one hand on her..." Harry now began to tremble in anger. "Tell me what you know!"

"What I know?" asked Malfoy, his expression somewhere between hurt and rage. "What I know is that you're making a giant mistake," he said, followed by a short burst of laughter, and then he spit in Harry's face. "Go to hell."

There was a rustling near the door. The house-elf had returned, hidden from view, but they both knew it was there. Harry pulled back to strike, then cursed under his breath. He dropped his hands about Malfoy's neck and bent low to his ear. "One hair, Malfoy, and I'll kill you," he whispered. He grabbed the corner of Malfoy's green cloak, wiped his face, and left.

He could hear Malfoy's laughter, as he walked down the corridor. The false mirth was seeped in sadness, but Harry took no note of it. He brooded, breathing heavily as he walked through the portrait of the Fat Lady. He entered the Gryffindor common room to find Ron selling Weasley's Wonderful Passion Potions, much to Hermione's consternation.

"I can't believe you're a prefect, Ronald Weasley," she said in exasperation. "Do you even know if that stuff is safe?"

"Must be," Ron grinned as he took a Galleon from a fourth year. "It's still working on you isn't it?"

Hermione scowled and then her eyebrows curled up into a pensive glare.

"Oooh," said Ron, looking at the fire building in her eyes. "Maybe you should have some more."

"I'll tell you what I should do! I should..." she reached for her wand, but Harry held her arm as Ron started to bend over in laughter. "And you!" she cried turning to Harry.

"Me!" said Harry with a slight crack in his voice. "What have I done?"

"Mr. 'Oh, can't we all just be honest with each other'," she scoffed. "And what have you been doing all weekend? Slinking about the castle as if you were searching for the Philosopher's Stone. What's going on?"

"Nothing you want to hear about," he said, flopping down on an overstuffed chair.

"Two galleons!" Parvati cried out. "That's robbery, Weasley!"

"He's a big guy," answered Ron. "You'll need at least a double dose."

"You're not going to use that poison on Greg, are you?" Hermione shot out, as she spun on Parvati.

"Well, he's been a bit distant lately. I thought..."

"Did you think about talking to him?" Hermione cut in. "Maybe ask him about his feelings?"

Parvati looked at Hermione and then at the small vial in Ron's hand. "Well," she said with a sigh, "it's too much money for my blood anyway. I guess I can try to talk to him." She shrugged her shoulders and walked away.

"You cost me a sale!" Ron yelled.

"I saved you from a massive beating from Greg Goyle," Hermione retorted. In seconds they were at each other again, and Harry took the opportunity to slip up the stairs.

It was quiet and dimly lit in the boys' dormitory. A few candles flickered yellow light against the wall. Harry glanced up at his picture of Gabriella. The smoke that was there days earlier, had vanished. There was something reassuring about seeing her hold his hand as they watched the setting sun together. "This summer," he whispered to himself. He took off his pants and shirt and stepped to his bed. As he did every night, he reached out and touched the invisible ball of cinnabar hidden on his desk. He hadn't really given much thought to using it since he'd returned.

He and Gabriella had agreed to use the mirrors tomorrow evening, but he desperately wanted to speak to her now. It was late, and she'd likely be there if he called for her. He wanted to tell her to be careful, to watch out for those wanting to kill her, to... to tell her everything she already knew. He sighed and fell onto his bed. She hated when he showed concern like that. Still, Harry wondered, why did Malfoy care?

"Damn," he whispered to the air.

A burst of laughter shot through the dormitory door. Dean emerged with Ginny in his arms. She was fiddling with the collar on his shirt, when she noticed Harry on the bed.

Oh... Hi, Harry," Ginny blushed. Harry was too tired to worry about being half-naked. His mind was elsewhere.

"Don't tell me you bought one of Ron's potions," Harry asked, dropping his head back onto his pillow.

"We don't need a stupid potion, Harry," answered Dean grinning. Ginny grinned back and they kissed. Harry listened to the slurping for a minute then sat back up.

"Er... should I leave?"

"Oh," Ginny blushed again. "No, Harry... no. I was just saying goodnight."

"Goodnight," Harry said flatly, dropping his head down again.

She kissed Dean once more and left down the stairs. Dean sat down on his own bed with a light sigh of pleasure. "She's perfect," he breathed.

"Uh, huh," Harry muttered.

"And Ron's been real cool about the whole thing... thanks to you."

"Uh, huh."

"She loves me... and I love her."

"Right."

"That's why I think tomorrow..."

Harry never heard the rest of Dean's thoughts. His own mind had wandered into a restless sleep.

The sun, hanging high in the blue sky was hot against the back of Harry's neck. He was flying over the falls, holding a very small cup in his hand. Just a little closer... but for some reason his broom would not move closer. No matter how he'd attempt to approach, a great wind would blow into his face, and try as he might the water of the falls stayed just out of reach. He looked into the pool below, and saw Luna swimming in the water and looking up at him.

"Hi, Harry!" she called. "Have you been listening? They're just behind the veil. Come and see!" She popped up, and then dived down into the water. Harry pushed his broom to fly down, but the Caduceus would not respond. It just hung in mid-air as if stuck to a giant invisible spider web.

It suddenly grew too dark to see, and Hermione's voice echoed in his mind. "Would you ruin us all for Sirius, Harry?" And then another voice spoke out, "What would you give to bring back the loved ones you've lost?" Who was it? "Well, Harry? Harry!" He woke with a start. Ron stood over him in the morning light, poking him in the ribs.

"If you're late to class this morning," he warned grabbing a towel and heading to the showers, "you know you won't be able to go to Hogsmeade this afternoon."

"I'm not going," Harry muttered, and rolled back over in bed.

"Not going is not an option!" Ron yelled again.

"Yeah! Get up, yeh mopin' murtlap," cajoled Seamus, as he laced his trainers. "At least yeh got a girl, even if she ain't here."

"That's right, Harry," joined in Neville, who was staring into the mirror and having trouble negotiating the part in his hair. "You should be thankful for what you have."

"What are you talking about?" Harry sneered through his pillow. "You're going to Hogsmeade with Helen this afternoon. Parvati told me you two had reserved the table by the window at Madam Puddifoot's. She was a bit miffed since she wanted the table for her and Greg."

"Well... er, you should be thankful you don't have to sit by a fire all afternoon and have arrows shot at your head." Harry had to smile, thinking back to last year with Cho. Neville had a point, perhaps it would be better just to stay at the castle today.

His smile stayed with him throughout the morning. Gabriella would be opening her gift this morning, and that made him smile more. Harry was unflappable, even in Snape's class. When asked for the thirty-four ingredients required to create a potion to protect against love potions, Harry listed them all and in order of preparation. The listing was so perfect that Snape hesitated thinking about awarding house points, but turned his back on Harry.

"Satisfactory," Snape drawled, spun on his heels and went across the dungeon to ask Anthony a question. Unfortunately for Anthony, he'd spent most of the morning drawing doodles of Cho. Although, it might not have mattered, Professor Snape's question was exceedingly complex, even Harry was confused by it. When all Anthony could offer up was a shrug Snape seemed to unload his pent up frustration with Harry.

"Mr. Goldstein," he scowled, "I would have thought you would know the difference between extract of ashwinder eggs and flesh of fluxweed. Pity, I expected better, twenty points from Ravenclaw."

"That's not fair!" Anthony cried out.

"No?" Snape drawled out in a long, low tone. Everyone behind Professor Snape tried to signal for Anthony to be quiet, even Cho was squeezing his leg, but he ignored them all.

"You're just bitter!" snapped Goldstein. "Potter answered your questions and, and you're taking it out on me!"

"I see," answered Snape in all too cool voice. "Perhaps you can explain it to me, during your detention this afternoon."

There was an audible groan about the room, most notably by Cho, who just slumped back in her chair.

"But... but..." Anthony stammered.

"Would you like to join me this evening as well? I would think you'd prefer to spend your evening preparing the festivities for your Quidditch match tomorrow against Slytherin." Anthony slumped, and said nothing. "Do you intend to spend your evening cleaning cauldrons with a bitter man?" Snape pressed.

"No, sir," Anthony replied, resigned to his unjust punishment.

Professor Snape turned and glared at Harry with a half smile on his face, as if somehow this punishment of Anthony was hurting him in some way. But, as it turned out, the punishment played to Harry's favor, at least he thought it had.

As everyone was departing to Hogsmeade, Cho caught Harry in the corridor near the library. He was carrying a load of books, including Ancient Runes of the World.

"Ancient Runes?" she asked with surprise. "You're not taking Runes. What's up with the text?"

"Er... Hermione asked me to return it for her. She and Ron are off to Hogsmeade."

"What, aren't you going?" she asked, with a tinge of surprise in her voice. "Ron said..."

"Yeah, I know," interrupted Harry, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't want to be a third wheel. Strange really, but..."

"Not go?" Cho exclaimed. "But..." she stopped herself, and immediately began to fidget with the strap of her shoulder pack. "Well, Anthony's stuck here with Snape, why don't you go to town with me?" Harry gave her an odd look. "To Hogsmeade, you know, as friends... that's all. We could go to Honeydukes, or the bookshop, or... well, I'd like to visit Fred & George's shop. You know... if you want... just as friends."

Harry didn't mean to, but he found himself blushing a bit. He looked down at his book on runes; he thought he knew the cipher code for the spinning dial on Black's golden bowl, but he wanted to make sure. The books he was carrying shifted in his hands; he didn't understand why his hands should suddenly become sweaty.

"S-Sure," he said, shrugging his shoulders again, "I guess."

An hour later, Cho and Harry were walking the main street of Hogsmeade, side by side, but not arm in arm. It seemed that they were surrounded by couples holding hands or kissing, and it was more difficult than usual to carry on a normal conversation. When they came out of Honeydukes, Tristan Pointsetter, a seventh year from Hufflepuff stopped Cho by the arm.

"I thought you were with Anthony... what was his name... Goldstein?" Tristan asked.

"Well... I mean... I guess," Cho stumbled. "It's not official or anything, at least, he hasn't asked... you know." A broad smile spread across Tristan's face.

"Yeah, I know." She winked. "Besides, Harry's a better catch anyway, the way he handles his broomstick..." she trailed off dreamily, walking into Honeydukes. Cho looked up to the sky to check the time; the air was cool, but both she and Harry seemed a bit flushed.

"Er, Harry, why don't we go check in on the twin's new shop?" Cho suggested.

After their success on Diagon Alley, Fred and George took over an old, run down, two-story, Tudor directly on the main street in Hogsmeade. Being the closest building in town to the train tracks, it was often a flophouse for vagrant witches and wizards that would skirt the outside of town. Harry never really paid the building much attention, but now that the twins had established their newest Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes store, its grandeur was hard to miss. Now, completely remodeled and refurbished, it was the first stop for anyone coming to town by train, and the business had become a stiff competitor for both Honeydukes and Zonkos, combining the best of both shops into one.

When Cho and Harry came up to the storefront, they had to wait in line to get in. Couples were leaving the store with little red bubbles coming out of their ears in the shape of hearts. Harry wasn't sure if he should be disturbed by the whole idea, or happy that his investment was turning such a profit. He looked in through the new windows to see people laughing, and the sight warmed him inside against the afternoon chill. By the time the two made it inside, Harry was beaming; there was a positive energy here like nowhere else.

"Hey! Harry!" Fred called from the front of the store. "Get over here, we need a hand." Harry and Cho made their way through the crowd and stepped behind the counter. Fred looked tired, there were dark lines under his eyes, and his skin appeared a bit gray. "Good to see you too, mate," he said brightly, noting Harry's concern. "Don't worry, I have another week and I'm expecting a special delivery shortly," he flashed a large smile. "Look, today everything in the store is two sickles, got it?" Harry nodded. "Good, start taking their money." He slapped Harry on the back, and moved over to George who was demonstrating a new chew that forced the chewer to sing an extremely sappy love song. The girls were buying them by the dozens for their boyfriends. Harry took off his jacket and both he and Cho started selling Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes.

Nearly an hour passed when there was a sudden, shrill scream somewhere from the middle of the store; it was Marietta Edgecombe. Everyone turned to face the sound.

"There you are!" she yelled with excitement, looking passed Harry to Cho, who was busy gathering up more nougats and toffees. "Cho! Cho!" Marietta cried out again. Marietta pushed her way through the crowd to the front counter, grabbed Cho about the neck and hugged her so tightly, Harry thought Cho would faint. "You won't believe it! You won't believe it!"

"What?" Cho asked. "What's the matter?"

"Les Bowers," Marietta squeaked, "he's sick." Her face flashed a smile, then a look of concern, then a smile again.

"So?"

"Les... is... sick..." Marietta said again, very carefully. As was Cho, Harry was having trouble understanding why Les Bowers, the Ravenclaw Seeker, being sick had anything to do--"

"No!" Cho gasped. "You can't be serious! Me?"

"Yes!" said Marietta, snapping her head up and down wildly, and then grabbing Cho about the neck again. "They want you in as Seeker tomorrow against Slytherin!" Cho let out a little squeal, and then paused. She held out her right arm and squeezed her hand in the middle of the air as if catching a Snitch; it worked perfectly. The entire shop fell silent, as they waited to see her reaction.

"I can do this," she said resolutely. She took a deep breath, and then looked at Harry, her face a mixture of happiness and sorrow. "If it hadn't been for you, Harry..." Tears welled up in her eyes, and then she reached out and pulled him close, kissing him on the cheek. The room exploded with applause and cheers.

"I told you," someone spoke to a friend near the back of the shop next to the stairs, "they're the perfect couple. Always were, always will be." The clapping was just dying down when George noticed a visitor descending from upstairs.

"You made it!" he called out.

Harry, still holding Cho tightly in his arms, looked up to see who George was talking to. She stood there, holding the railing as if trying to steady herself, her two black eyes locked on Harry's.

"Gabriella?" Harry choked.

"Oh, screwt," Cho whispered a phrase that had been picked up in their fourth year.

"Oooh, this is going to get good," whispered a fourth year, seeing the anger building in Gabriella's eyes.

"You knew?" Harry whispered out of the side of his mouth, as Cho dropped her arms to her side, and straightened the shop apron she was wearing.

"We all did... sorry, Harry. It was supposed to be a..."

"Harry Potter!" Gabriella yelled, descending the stairs and brandishing her wand. Cho ducked behind the counter next to Fred. "You two-timing..." she sent out a shot of purple light that hit left of Harry and exploded a glass jar of nougats, "double crossing..." she sent forth another blast that would have hit Harry squarely in the chest, if he hadn't deflected it into the fourth year under the stairs, who immediately grew batwings for ears, and squealed running out of the store, "snake sucking..." she was nearly upon him when a blast of red erupted from her wand, forcing him to deflect it into the ceiling, "horklump licking..." she stood in front of him, her wand was directly under his chin. The shop was silent, as the wizard and the witch stood toe-to-toe, and the tension filled the air.

"Perfect," whispered Theodore Nott, a twisted grin hung on his face. He had just finished making his purchase, and stood only three feet away. "It's about time you got yours, Potter. And from a girl no less, how..."

Still holding her wand under Harry's throat, Gabriella reached out with her other hand, and struck at a nerve just at the base of Nott's neck. He let a short, shrill cry of pain and fell to the ground unconscious. Seeing him fall, a hint of a smile creased Harry's lips, and when his eyes moved up to meet Gabriella's he saw, surprisingly, a twinkle.

"Horklump licking?" he asked, his smile growing wider.

"I was lousy in drama class," she said rolling her eyes, slipping her wand away, pulling him close and kissing him hard. Except for Nott, still on the floor, everyone in the room cheered.

"Happy Valentines Day, Harry!" George called out, as sales began again.

"Correction, Harry," Fred added with a grin, "Happy Valentines Weekend!" Cho and Marietta both gave Gabriella a welcoming hug.

"What?" said Harry perplexed. "Don't tell me you're all in on..." the collective grins surrounding him told him that he'd just been had by Fred, George, and a good portion of the students at Hogwarts, except perhaps the fourth year with batwings.

"It was Ron's idea," Cho laughed.

"Ron?" Harry asked. "Where's..." On the staircase Gabriella had just descended, stood Ron with Hermione, Ron smiling a bit more than Hermione.

"They were helping me get my room together," said Gabriella, still smiling.

"Your room?" Harry asked, still trying to catch up.

"Fred and George said I could stay the weekend. I thought I'd at least stay and watch Cho fly tomorrow."

You could have knocked Harry over with a feather he was so giddy. He held Gabriella in his arms, and kissed her again.

"How could you think I'd be mad, after Hedwig brought me this? Chocolate... as if." She held up her right hand to display a ring, woven from spun gold, and laced with scarlet rubies, the colours of Gryffindor. He would tell her about this ring one day, but not here, not now.

"I brought a present for you, too," she whispered in his ear, "but I left it in my room." Her eyes twinkled ever more brightly. "Do you want to see it?" Harry looked at Gabriella and then up to the second floor.

"Sure," he said with a smile. Then he turned to Cho who was selling a bag of fireworks to a fourth year. "Cho, I'll be right back." Cho watched Gabriella and Harry ascend the stairs. Passing Ron and Hermione, he punched Ron on the shoulder, but the redhead only laughed.

"Sure you will, Harry," Cho whispered under her breath with a smile. "Sure you will." She handed three fireworks to the fourth year. "Six sickles, please."