The Human Condition

Chapter Three: The Ruptured Citadel

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Present

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Harry watched the doctor watch him. He had told the story quite casually, though the whole ordeal was nothing short of remarkable.

"Broken into, you say?" he asked.

Harry yawned and nodded. "Yes. Reports that the Ministry released claim that three prisoners, unnamed, by the way, escaped from Azkaban. The details and truth have been locked away. As far as I'm aware, Draco Malfoy is still in his cell. Rotting, I hope."

"So his father didn't go back for him. Why not?" he asked.

Harry drew up the corners of his mouth and shook his head. "Chronology, remember? We're going in order of how I experienced it. I got the answer not long ago, but I have a story to tell."

Marc changed the direction of the conversation. "You and Draco are school enemies, yes?"

"Yes."

"All seven years?"

"All seven years."

"With no sign, no attempt to let your animosity go?"

"No," Harry said.

"Do you ever wish you had? I mean, you obviously hate him very much. Do you wish you would have resolved your differences?"

Harry stared at him as though Marc was brain dead. "I don't work that way," he said. "The difference between Malfoy and me is very clear. He is a dark wizard, and I hate dark wizards. He was bred to pursue the dark arts, and I was bred to get rid of them. Malfoy's crowd killed my family. Resolve our differences? I think that would be like asking Anne Frank to put her differences aside for Hitler. Wake up, Marc. This isn't Utopia. People are real, they're not worthy of great fairy tales where everyone loves one another. Malfoy and I will always hate each other. Differences cannot be 'put aside.' He is an evil man with no strain of good inside him. This is the real world."

"From what I know about prisoner treatment," he said, changing the subject again, "it's illegal to do what you did to Mr. Malfoy."

Harry laughed a booming laugh. "Yes it was. But you see, Malfoy wasn't a prisoner, was he? Technically, he hadn't been charged with the crimes. He didn't have a trial or any legal advice. He was caught. Still, I never told anyone about what I did to him," he said smirking. "If the news gets out, I'll know you were the one who squealed. But even if he was a prisoner, it wouldn't have made a shred of difference."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" he asked angrily. Harry's face got red and his hands balled into fists. "He killed four people and released three deadly, cunning prisoners, doctor! Listen to yourself! You care more about the perpetrator than the victims. They're dead!" he yelled. "I slapped Malfoy around a little because he killed four people and wouldn't tell me how. He killed sons and fathers! The people he freed are in the killing business! More people died and will die. How dare you sit there and scold me for kicking that piece of shit! You have no idea what it takes to make this world safe. Malfoy is still alive and well, and guilty. But you care more about him and his 'rights' as a prisoner. Well, aren't you a special, loving, caring, bleeding hearted man. I've met so many people like you, thinking of themselves as warm and loving people, all fuzzy for people in prison not being treated well. Here's an idea for you, and you can go tell your friends this too; turn all of that 'warm and loving care' onto those who really need it, the victims!" He sat back in his bed, breathing heavily. He crossed his arms and stared at the wall.

Marc paused his tape recorder and let his mind wander. Harry didn't say anything to him, didn't even cast a glance his way.

"Harry look," Marc began, but he was cut off.

"Don't even try justifying it. You care too much for the scum of the earth."

"That isn't--"

"Just shut up, okay? Shut up. Leave me alone. Go have your stale lunch. Go spend lunch with your wife and leave me alone. Come back when you think your way through, not feel your way through life. Now go."

"But we're so close to the incident at Hogwarts, Harry, couldn't we just finish it?"

"No. And why do you keep calling it an incident? It was a hostage situation. Call it what it is. Get out and don't come back until you have some decent common sense." Harry turned and pointed to the exit wall, scowling at Marc with loathing.

He didn't have much of a choice. Harry had closed him off completely and he'd have to figure out a way to get him talking again. He stood up and left. Marc kicked the observation room door open and threw a file on the floor. "DAMN IT!" he yelled, striding into the room. "I was getting to him. Why did I fall into his trap?"

"Because you took more interest in his story rather than him," the Indian woman said. She gave him a pitying stare. "But it's understandable coming from you." She pushed her bony hands into her pockets and pulled out a cigarette box and a lighter.

"What's with the smoking? Why does everyone in here smoke? And just who the hell are you?"

The woman concentrated on putting the cigarette into her mouth and lit it. She exhumed three puffs of smoke before talking to him again. "I started smoking years ago. Not everyone smokes; it's just your perception. Perception, despite each person's small minded thinking, is not reality. And who the hell I am is certainly none of your business. What is your business, Doctor Simon, is why you know as little about Mr. Potter as my falcon does." She strolled over to the circular table in the middle of the room and sat down, laying her feet on the top of it. The two wardens had been playing a card game.

"Do you mind?" one of them asked as her boots landed on the deck.

"Not really. So doctor," she said, exhaling more white smoke, "why are you allowing Harry to call the shots?"

Marc walked over to her and stared. "How long have you been watching me with him?"

She smiled. "Only when I've been here," she said condescendingly, looking over her short nose at him. "But I have seen enough to know who is the master and who is the idiot. Harry Potter is not the idiot."

"Are you a psychologist?" Marc asked as he leaned against the solid wall.

"What do you think?" she asked with her eyes narrowed into slits.

"I think you should keep your nose out of my work," he answered. "Tell me who you are and what you're doing here."

"Yes and no."

"Pardon?"

"Yes I am a psychologist and, no, I'm not telling you who I am. Harry's right; you are a terrible listener. He deserves someone who knows what they're doing in there. He's told you so much and you can't piece it together. He should have kicked you out like the others."

Marc squinted at her. She was unusually short and skinny. Her face could be pretty if she smiled more often. The edges of her lips were pulled downwards, her nose was bony and short, and her eyes were so opaque that they reminded him of tunnels which led to more darkness. Yet there was a great mystery about her that he couldn't explain. As if reading his mind, she smirked.

"That's what you should be doing to him," she said, pointing with her cigarette at the wall. "You're getting the picture, aren't you Marc? Because you don't know who I am you're trying to learn. It was a mistake for you to read Harry's file because now you think you know him. It's much simpler to go the long way around."

"Why do you keep calling him 'Harry?'" he asked.

Again, she smirked. "Ah, getting better all the time. You tell me."

"You've met him before, haven't you?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"So Harry knows you?" he asked. He pulled up a chair and sat down to face her. He pulled his glasses off his face and wiped them on his shirt.

"Meeting and knowing are very different things. It's best not to mix them up. Look, I'm going to give you a few pointers because I want him cracked open just as much as you do. First of all, it shouldn't matter if you think he's lying about Leucosia. Do your best to pretend he's telling you the truth and he will respect you. Secondly, act as he does. If he's pushing you around like he's been doing since you walked in that door, push him back. If there is one thing you should remember about him, it's that he hates it when people elevate him. Thirdly, show some back bone. I understand your fear of him. Harry Potter is a powerful wizard, especially for someone that young. But he smells your fear and he's feeding off of it. He's got disabling charms on him. He can hardly stand up. He can't hurt you with magic so he's feeding off of your fear of him. You got all that?"

Marc thought about what she had said and nodded to her. "Good advice," he admitted.

"Yeah, that needs to stop," she snapped. "You're too nice. Let me ask you something. If you were locked up in a box like Harry is, would you want some prep boy to act nice? He doesn't. He is a smart mouthed punk, so you go in there and treat him like one. I promise you he'll react to it."

"What? That's insane."

"You've tried nice, haven't you? Nice isn't working. He walks all over you like he does the Minister. Listen to my advice; I know more than you could ever hope. Now get back in there and ask him about Hogwarts."

"He doesn't want to talk."

"You actually think he wants to be in that room all by himself staring at the wall? No. Give him something to do. Yell at him if you have to. And bring this screen back up," she ordered the wardens. "I hate not being able to see something. Surely your discussion on the escaped convicts is over, doctor."

"Don't you have a job?" he asked angrily. "Or are you just here to baby-sit me?"

"Yes. Get back in there," she ordered.

He would certainly lose a staring competition with this woman, so he made an about face and went back into Harry's cell. Harry was sitting up now, his legs hung over one side of the bed. He flashed a glance at Marc, rolled his eyes, and stood up. "Back so soon?" he asked.

"I would like you to tell me about the hostage situation at Hogwarts," he said simply.

"And I would like for you to grow a brain," he sighed as he walked to his bathroom. "But we can't always have what we want, can we?" He closed the bathroom door.

Marc walked over to the bed stand and noticed that the cigarettes were just as he left them the previous day. Harry walked back out, holding onto the wall for support. Then he sat in the chair Marc had used. "Really," he started, "why are you back here today?"

"Hogwarts. That's the pinnacle of your story, isn't it?"

"No."

"Well, it's important and I think you should tell me about it."

"No. Read about it."

"No," Marc said. "You tell me."

Harry shook his head and laughed so hard tears started to form. "Oh, doctor," he managed through his hysterics. "That was terrible. You expect me to quiver with fear from that? I'm glad you're doing this. You'd die out in the real world. You need to practice with your threats, but at least you're trying. I'll give you that much. You're lucky I'm so bored in here. There are no books, no paintings, no nothing."

"Does that mean you'll tell me?" Marc asked.

Harry drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. "It was a frustrating event."

"Yes I know," he said. He sat on Harry's bed. "Why don't you tell me about it," he said quite sincerely. He continued on, not allowing Harry to give him an answer. "You were gone most of that day, December 24^th, but you managed to show up in the Great Hall of Hogwarts right on time. Let's start from there, unless you would rather discuss your whereabouts that day."

"It's not important," he said, folding his hands in his lap. He took a deep breath and sighed. "December 24, 2003. Possibly the worst, yet luckiest, day of my life."

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December 24, 2003

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Snow fell from the tall ceiling of the Great Hall. It wasn't real snow, but a spell which depicted the weather outside. A dozen great Christmas tress adorned with real fairies lined the walls. The entire room was lit with what seemed to be gold, but it was actually the hovering chandeliers which reflected their own light.

The four house tables had been moved and were replaced with at least fifty smaller tables made of a deep oak. Hundreds of people were here, all dressed for the occasion. Red and green were the predominant colors of the robes on the women, but the men seemed to be sticking with black.

Harry lit up a cigarette before he entered the mass of alumni. If he tried he could avoid most of them and find his table. He knew Hermione and Ron would be here, but he wasn't sure about anyone else. As far as he knew, Tonks was coming; she would be here on a lax patrol. Fred and George were probably doing business, as it was the busiest time of the year for them. They would only be allowed to come if they had been invited by a relative, for they never graduated.

"Harry," a familiar voice said beside him. He turned around to see Hermione grinning at him. She wore robes of sky blue this evening and her hair was strait and shiny. "You made it," she said, sounding surprised.

"Yeah I did. You look gorgeous," he said.

"Thank you. You're not looking too bad yourself. But you might consider leaving your leather trench coat in the entrance hall. It makes you look a little on the rough and rugged side."

"Suggestion noted," he said with a grin. She smiled, took his arm, and led him to their table. "Right in the middle, eh?" he said.

"Don't be so excited," Ron said. He was sitting next to his father, who was adjacent to Tonks. Hermione seemed to be without Luke Broadmoor and Ron was without female companionship. Harry was right about Fred and George; they were keeping their store open until ten that night. Charlie, Ron explained, was too busy to get away, and Bill didn't want to come. Ron couldn't help but grin. And Ginny was spending the holiday with her boyfriend's family; a sign of commitment, according to Tonks.

"So, it's just the losers who came here?" Harry said casually as he sat next to Hermione.

"Too true," Ron said. "Where's Lucas, Hermione?"

"He promised his parents he would spend Christmas with them. And he goes by Luke. Honestly, Ron, why must you mock all of my boyfriends? You act like you're jealous of them," she said with a bit of a pompous air about her.

"I am not jealous. I would never want to date you," he said, not meeting her eyes.

"Oh, so I'm just some throw away then?" she asked. Harry turned his attention to Arthur, who hadn't looked at him at all.

"Happy Christmas, Arthur," Harry said to him.

"Yes," he said with a polite smile to Harry. "Happy Christmas to you." He took a large gulp of wine. "Have any plans for tomorrow?"

Harry allowed himself a smile. "I was thinking about doing a little traveling. What about you?"

"Spending time with the family, just like every Christmas. You'd probably find it boring compared to your line of work," he said. Harry knew what Arthur was up to. He was trying to make Harry jealous.

With a laugh Harry answered, "I probably would. What about you, Tonks? Are you spending time with your family?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "My mother's side tomorrow, just her parents," she said quickly, "and dad's parents on the twenty-sixth. Too much family time if you ask me. So where were you today, Harry?"

"Home," he said.

"Really? Why didn't you answer the door when I called on you?"

"I must have been in the shower or something. Dobby's on vacation."

"You see," Hermione said, ceasing her argument with Ron and turning her attention to Harry. "You are the ideal employer. You pay Dobby a good wage, he has reasonable hours, a place of his own, which you got for him, and you give him vacation! Not to mention he adores you and you treat him so well. If only all house elves could really see the benefit in freedom."

"Um," Harry said to her, lowering his voice, "I think you should know that most house elves don't want freedom, Hermione. Just a hint," he said with a wink.

Ron chuckled to himself, but a little too loudly.

"Ron," she said exasperatedly, "why don't you get your own opinion instead of laughing at someone else's." She threw her napkin down, glared at Harry momentarily, then got up and mingled.

Harry watched her talk to Professor McGonagall, and then turned back to the table. "If this is all that's here, I'm sorry I came. I don't even see Dumbledore or anyone else I'm keen on speaking with. Maybe I'll just head back home."

"You can't leave!" Ron said.

"Why not?"

"Because," he said. "This is Hogwarts."

Harry chortled and glanced at Tonks. "You're really going for the obvious, aren't you? Tonks, what's your bet on Ron making Auror training next year?"

But Tonks wasn't listening. She was looking into the crowd with a dreamy look playing about her face. Her eyes were glazed over, one side of her mouth was drawn up, and her hair changed from brown to strawberry blonde in a few seconds. Ron turned to see who she was focused on, but Harry continued to brood in silence; Arthur Weasley did the same.

"Who is she looking at?" Ron asked Harry after poking his side.

Harry drank some wine, closed his eyes, and passed air through his teeth. "Lupin," he said causally, taking another sip.

"Lupin!" Ron exclaimed. "You've got to be kidding me. What's she see in him?" Ron asked.

"Why don't you ask her, Ron, she's sitting across from you," Harry said. He finished his drink then backed away from the table and walked about. If he left, no one would care, he thought. Hermione was still discussing something important with McGonagall, and Ron was looking confused and stupid as he considered asking Tonks what she saw in Lupin. Remus was pouring himself a glass of punch. Harry decided he would have a word with him.

"Hello, Professor," he said.

He looked up at Harry. He looked tired and worn as usual. But tonight his robes were new, his shoulders were raised, and he had much more color in his face. He gave Harry a peaceful smile.

"You're an adult now, Harry, you can call me Remus," he said.

"That would be really weird, and hard. How are you these days?"

Remus exhaled a "hmm," then shook his head. "I suppose I could be better. I would rather not speak about it. What about you? Your life is far more interesting than mine, I daresay. What's going on in the Auror business?"

"Evil is just about to take over the world," Harry said nonchalantly.

Remus grinned. "Nothing new then?"

"No," Harry said as he glanced again at Hermione, "nothing new. There always seems to be some group of dark idiots who think they can take over the world. They don't care to notice that so far no one has, but it takes all kinds. I probably shouldn't tell you this," Harry started.

Remus set down his punch and bent his head forward. "Tell me what?" he said.

"All right, since you begged me to tell you," he said sarcastically, "Tonks has been staring at you for over five minutes. I think you've pushed some of her buttons. Go over and talk to her; make the next move."

Remus lost most of the color in his thin face. "She has?" Remus asked. He glanced tentatively at Tonks and snapped his head back to Harry. "She is. Um," he said, scratching the back of his head, "I should talk to her, right?"

"Speaking is a good form of communication. Besides, you've known her for years; there's no pressure. Ask her to dance or something."

Remus looked around the Great Hall. "Harry, no one is dancing."

"So be the first one. She'll think it's very romantic."

"Why are you pushing this?" Remus asked, smirking.

"Because I'm bored and you need to get some. Go ask her to dance, you coward."

"I can't do that!" Remus said as Harry began to push him towards the table. "I can't, Harry!"

"Would you feel more comfortable if other couples were dancing?" he asked. He looked over at Hermione again; who was now talking with someone Harry didn't know.

"Maybe, but don't count on it. I've never made a move like this!"

"Go ask her, I'll take care of the rest," he said. He gave Remus a mighty push then walked to Hermione.

"They've been brainwashed," she was telling her guest. "House elves have been brainwashed to think they want to serve humans, but they don't. House elves need freedom and payment for their work."

"So we should free horses and dogs as well?" the man said.

Hermione shook her head in disgust. "House elves are different from horses and dogs."

"Why, just because they can talk?"

"No. Well, yes, because house elves are intelligent creatures."

"Hermione," Harry said abruptly, pulling her arm, "dance with me."

She pulled her arm away from him and frowned. "Why?"

"Just do it," he said and he pulled her away.

"I was having a perfectly good debate before you showed up. What's your problem, anyway? Why couldn't you dance with some other girl? I'm sure any one of them would want you." She tried walking back to her debate but he pulled her about, took her hand, placed his other hand around her waist, and started to dance. He looked at Remus talking to Tonks.

"Harry," Hermione said, "there isn't any music. Why are we doing this?"

"I'm bored."

Hermione pulled away from him. "What? Because you're bored you decided that I was the last resort?"

"No," he replied. "I'm trying to get Tonks and Remus together on the dance floor, but he wouldn't do it unless other people were dancing. I saved you from losing that debate and I'm trying to save myself from the boredom of this stupid event that I had to attend. Now, dance with me so they can get on the floor and let the sparks fly. Don't you want Remus to be happy? Don't you want some form of entertainment other than yapping at people you don't even like? Come on, Hermione, he's all alone in the world. He needs someone."

Hermione looked over at her table where Remus was talking animatedly with Tonks. She sighed and picked up the position with Harry. She was the one leading. "Everyone is watching us," she said as she fixed a smile on him. "Luke will be very jealous and angry if the papers report that you and I are seeing each other."

The small orchestra in the corner of the Great Hall began to play now that a couple was dancing.

"And I was not losing that debate," she said. "Some people are just dense. They don't want to see the injustice of our government because that would mean changing it. They don't want to change it because that would require work on their part. Honestly, sometimes I can't understand how humans get anywhere if we're this lazy."

"He's taking her hand," Harry said as he watched Remus lead Tonks to the floor. He also noticed that several other couples were beginning to waltz.

"Really?" Hermione asked, turning her attention to Tonks. "Wouldn't that be great if they were a couple? I really wish Professor Lupin would settle down with someone. They would be cute together."

Harry suddenly dropped her hand and started walking back to the table. Hermione threw her hands in the air and marched after him. "That's it? We're done dancing now?"

"Yeah," Harry said as he sat back down. "I thought you were afraid that Luke would think something was up if we we're seen together. Besides, the job's done. We can watch from the comfort of our seats."

Ron was laughing. "What's so funny, Ron?" Hermione snapped. Ron stopped laughing. "Good," she said, and then rounded on Harry. "And why are you acting like this? I'm getting really tired of you, Harry. It's like a chore to be nice to you when you act, well, like this."

"Maybe I'll leave then," Harry said and he raised his eyebrows at her and turned around, walking out of the Great Hall. Hermione was at a loss for words.

Harry stepped slowly into the entrance hall, but stopped. He had a squirming sensation in his stomach. "That's no way to treat your friends," he told himself. He leaned his head on the stone wall and shut his eyes.

"What are you doing out here?" an oily voice said. Harry knew exactly who it was and was in no mood to speak with him. He didn't turn around to give him the satisfaction. "Shouldn't you be in there with your 'gang'?" He took a few steps closer to Harry. "What's the matter, Potter, they don't want you anymore?"

"I guess that's something you know a little too well, not being wanted, isn't it, Snape?" Harry said. He still didn't face him, but he smirked when he heard Snape's silence. "You're still looking for someone who can understand loneliness like you, right? How long has it been, Snape? How long have you been alone?" Harry turned around. "How long?"

Snape hadn't changed one iota since Harry had graduated from Hogwarts. He only looked older, but he was still the ugly, greasy, Snape.

He didn't answer Harry's question.

"You can't pick on me anymore. You can't dock house points. The tables have turned, haven't they?" Harry drew a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips, lighting it with a snap of his fingers. He exhaled a thick cloud in Snape's face. "I was never scared of you. But now it seems that you, sir, are terrified of me. Rightly so, of course. Why don't you get back in that Hall and try fitting in. Go on," he said with a malicious smirk. "Try it. I'll be in shortly to watch." He took in a deep breath and held on. "Even Lupin the wolf isn't alone. That must kill you inside. Go on in there and see for yourself."

"One day, Potter --"

Harry chortled. "Oh yeah? One day what, Snape? You'll slip poison in my drink? You'll tell me I'm arrogant? Oooooh, I'm scared now."

Dumbledore walked between the two of them. "Problem, gentlemen?" he asked. "There's a lovely party inside, why don't we all go in together." It wasn't a request. He pushed the two of them back into the Great Hall. Now at least half the quests were dancing, including Remus and Tonks. Snape removed himself from Dumbledore's shove and meandered to a corner. Dumbledore gave a deep sigh. "Did you bring a guest, Harry?"

"No," he replied.

"I see. You decided you would be enough to bless us with your joy. Try to remember that it is Christmas."

Harry looked back at him, opened his mouth, and then shut it again.

"I see your friends are here with you. Shouldn't that make you the least bit pleased?" Dumbledore asked with a sad sort of smile.

Harry swallowed and nodded. "Sure," he said.

Dumbledore stopped short in his walking and faced Harry, placing both of his hands on Harry's shoulders. "What is troubling you?"

Harry stared into Dumbledore's blue eyes. He felt that Dumbledore was trying to bore into his mind and extract his thoughts by force. Harry tore his eyes away and began staring at Ron who was talking jovially with his father.

"It's nothing important," Harry answered him. "I'll live. I always do." He gave him a smile which didn't crinkle the flaps of his eyes.

The doors of the Great Hall burst open once more that evening. Fred and George, in all their glory, entered. One wore a suit of red, the other of green. Each was accompanied by an attractive woman. Dumbledore whirled around to see them, as did most in the room. Some of the guests applauded them, others bowed. Some of the older guests shook their heads and mumbled amongst their fellows. Arthur Weasley rose to greet them with a grin that Harry hadn't received from him in many years.

"Harry!" Fred shouted in greeting. He was the one in festive red. "Didn't expect to see you here, old chap! Allow me to introduce my date for this evening," he said as his blonde date smiled with glowing white teeth and sparkling eyes. "This is Jasmine McDonald," he said. "Jasmine, this is Harry Potter."

Not breaking from convention, she gave him the same greeting as everyone else nowadays. "Oh," she said, putting her hand to her chest. "It's so nice to meet you. I never thought I would see you."

Harry hated how she said it, how they all said it-- like he was some special breed of tiger in the zoo being talked about in the papers. Yes, new breed, they would say. You must go have a look at him. He's very special.

"It's nice to meet you," Harry replied, shaking her hand weakly.

"Jasmine's a model," Fred said. "Well, we'll be seeing you around, Harry!" and he took her to the dance floor. Then George came up with his date, who was just as lovely as Fred's. Her name was Caroline. She had red hair, darker than George's, and blue eyes. She greeted Harry the same as Jasmine, then walked away with George.

"They admire you," Dumbledore said as Harry walked away again. "You literally saved the world, Harry."

"I wish it would never need saving. There's always someone out there, sir, who is trying to do it again. Why can't they leave it alone?" Harry abandoned Dumbledore and walked back to Ron to say goodbye; he didn't feel like staying any longer.

"I had no idea Fred or George would show up this early," Arthur was saying to Ron. He looked pink with happiness and pride.

"You're not leaving already, are you? You just got here," Ron said with a frown to his friend.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I'm going. I have things to do. Happy Christmas to you, Ron, Arthur..." Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, cocked his head from side to side, and began walking out of the Hall, people pointing and staring at him as he left. He could feel Dumbledore's disappointed grimace following him, but he didn't care as much as he thought he would.

Then the air inside suddenly turned wet and warm. He reached for the handle to open the door. His hand started to shake. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He could feel goose pimples bumping up all over his body. Harry whirled around to look back into the hall. Nothing appeared different...

He walked briskly to Dumbledore, who was chatting with some guests much younger than him. Harry seized Dumbledore by the collar and whipped him around.

"What is it?" Dumbledore asked. "You look ill, Harry."

But Harry wasn't listening to Dumbledore. His eyes were darting around the room to look at the people. Hermione was looking disgusted as some guy talked her up-- Fred was about to kiss Jasmine-- a five year old boy was stealing some cake-- a large woman was helping herself to more chicken.

Harry suddenly couldn't hear the activity in the room. He could hear his heavy breaths; short and shallow. Dumbledore was calling to him from far away, gripping his shoulders.

The volume turned back on.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, now looking quite frightened; an emotion Harry had never seen on him. "What's wrong?"

"We need," Harry started in weak tones, "we need to get them out," he uttered.

"Get who out? What are you talking about?"

Harry let go of Dumbledore and was walking toward Hermione and Ron when it happened.

It began with someone's shrill scream. Harry spun around to stare. A man dressed in black robes was coming out of the air. Harry's eyes widened. The man didn't just appear, like with Apparation. No, he walked out of the air, like it was a door.

The man stunned the woman and shot a spell at the golden chandelier. Now several people were screaming. Harry continued to look around the room. Two more men had sliced through the Great Hall and were herding the guests into the center, like cattle. Harry pulled out his wand and moved out of the group. Dumbledore did the same, but went the other way.

There was more screaming as five more men came and joined the other three. They stunned people, used curses on them, kicked them into the center.

"Stupefy," Harry murmured. One of them was knocked down, simple as that. Harry aimed for another and murmured again. He also fell. But they were noticing; the others were adapting. When Harry tried to hit a third, it didn't work. The spell bounced off of him and hit the frightened five year old.

"Ladies and Gentleman," one of the hooded men said over the screams of terror and anger. "Please calm down. Calm down, I said. Dear, dear we are excited over all this." Harry recognized that drawl anywhere. He looked up.

As if practiced, all of the intruders lowered their hoods to show themselves. The leader was, as Harry suspected, Lucius Malfoy. Two wizards flanked his sides; Harry recognized them from photos he had seen after the break-in at Azkaban. Guy Burgess stood to Lucius's right, Kim Philby to the left. Harry squirmed his way into the middle of the mass of people and tried to get a good aim.

"Would Mr. Harry Potter please come to the front?" Lucius said with a grin. "Calling Mr. Potter," he sang. The two wizards to his left laughed. Harry remained where he was. "I don't have all night, you know. Should we have some fun?" he asked his two mates. They reached out and took hold of a girl; someone's daughter.

"Daddy!" she cried, reaching for her father. But when her father went after her, he was knocked back by an invisible wall. Some of the other hostages tried to get the girl back, but they too were blocked by the force field.

Lucius threw the girl at Guy Burgess, then pulled out his wand and point it at her heart. "I will count to three," he said, looking into the crowd. "You know I'll do it, Harry. One," he started.

Harry rushed forward, wand thrust out in front of him. Lucius grinned. "Very good, Potter. Now give your wand to Kim, won't you?" he said.

Philby walked forward and snatched Harry's wand from him. Guy Burgess threw the girl back to her father, who embraced her. "That's right, Harry. You're getting better by the second."

"What the hell do you want from me?"

The eight intruders laughed shortly.

"Oh, ho, yeah that's a funny question," Harry snapped back. "Goons like you are always easily amused."

Guy Burgess seemed interested in Harry's remark. He looked back at Kim and nodded. Harry didn't like the way they stared.

"We're here to play a little game," Lucius said. He walked closer to Harry. "The 'I wonder what the great Potter would do for strangers' game. We have all these prominent wizards here in Hogwarts, awaiting their execution."

A gasp ran through the group; Harry didn't blink.

"Of course some of them," Lucius continued as he laid his eyes on Hermione and Ron, "aren't strangers at all. We'll save them for last," he whispered. While staring into Harry's eyes, he snapped his fingers. Two of his men extracted Hermione and Ron from the group and held them at bay. "And Dumbledore," he said, raising his glance from Harry to the great wizard. "How nice to find you in such a bind. You're getting old now, aren't you? We'll deal with you as well." Two men grabbed him and took him to stand by Hermione and Ron. They took Dumbledore's wand and cast it to Philby.

"What do you want?" Harry repeated with his teeth clenched.

"Temper, Harry," he warned, wagging his finger at him. "I already told you. We're going to play a little game. You have always had the weakness to care too much about others instead of yourself. I thought that would change over the years. I thought you would pick up selfishness like you did smoking. I thought you would draw it in through your lungs like air. I thought you would become dependent upon it. It should have been another habit acquired from your great sufferings." He reached out and touched Harry's forehead, pulling back his bangs, while the other hand grasped around his neck. "Pity, isn't it? The Dark Lord is gone, the traces of him as well, but his mark on you was more than physical, wasn't it?"

Harry didn't even try to push Malfoy off of him. He squinted into Lucius's eyes and dug his teeth into his lower lip. Lucius released him and took a step back. He chuckled softly to himself and shook his head.

"Of course he had it wrong from the start. If you were the only one who could slay him, and you proved that correctly, congratulations by the way, then it was foolish of him to make you his enemy. I thought he should have stolen you and raised you as his own. But, what's done is done. He is gone forever; you vanquished him. You saved the world." He looked pleased about something. Very pleased. Harry's eyes followed his every movement.

"You know I'm much more powerful than you are, Lucius," Harry said. "You know what I'm capable of," he said, raising a corner of his mouth.

Lucius grinned in return. "Yes," he answered. "I know that you are, shall we say, equipped with great powers? I know exactly what you can do. But do you know, Harry, of what I can do?" He laughed again as he saw Harry's mouth drop. "It's impossible to enter Hogwarts except through the doors. But we have entered." He walked fast to Harry and whispered, "Just like Azkaban. Baffled, aren't you?"

"So how did you do it?" Harry asked.

"I'm not giving that away just yet. Stick around though. You'll figure out the answers. Time waits for no man, Harry, not even you with all your power. So let's get down to it. The introductions should go first. This is my former Death Eating partner, Guy Burgess. I'm sure you know the highlights from the file you read. And on my left is the oh-so-secretive Kim Philby, partly responsible for the destruction of one of the world's foremost Intelligence agencies. They're from the Dark Lord's first reign of power. The three of us are the new additions to the Black Order. You've been working hard to learn about us. Well, here we are."

"But no Draco, eh?" Harry said. He started to pace, looking at the hostages, the men surrounding them, his friends. "He sends his love, though."

"Draco will be rewarded," Lucius said. "His sacrifice has empowered us. Sacrifices have a tendency to lead to even greater power, don't they?"

"Sure," Harry said. The wall surrounding the hostages was one he had never seen. It was completely invisible, but Harry couldn't penetrate it. And they all looked at him, Harry, like he wasn't real. He wondered if they could hear what was happening. He could see Snape staring at him with real confusion, and Arthur in the exact same way. Harry tried waving to them, but neither of them blinked.

"Mysterious, isn't it?"

Harry turned back around to look upon Lucius. "Yes," he admitted. "How are you doing it?"

"Let's just say that all magic has a source of some kind. That's where it comes from. Our power, you see, exceeds yours."

Harry shook his head, turned back towards the shield, and held his palms to it, closing his eyes. He concentrated hard on breaking it. As he opened his glowing eyes, he saw he was having no effect. The shield only vibrated, as if made of thick water. Harry kept trying but now a sharp pain was circulating through him. He pulled back, his eyes resuming their normal shade.

He heard the Black Order laughing. He felt the heat rise in his face, his knuckles tighten, and his eyes were beginning to burn. He glanced over at Dumbledore. He looked very peaceful, as if nothing was wrong. Was he, Harry, the only one who knew what was happening?

They kept laughing at him. They wouldn't stop! Harry whirled around and thrust his palms up towards Malfoy, expelling a vortex-like force from them. But Lucius raised his hand calmly and Harry's force was absorbed in Malfoy's hand. Harry dropped his arms, feeling quite crestfallen.

"I told you I have new powers now. Are you done experimenting? I would really like to get going. We have much better things we could be doing, you know."

Harry heard himself breathing hard, as if he was already tired. He saw Malfoy touch something in his pocket, and then he stared at Harry again. "The spell which is binding them is quite handy. At anytime I can wipe their memories and replace them with whatever my heart desires. They can't see you; I know you've been wondering. But," he said, waving his wand at the wall, "now they can."

Harry looked once more at their faces.

Snape was glaring at him. He was giving him the look of complete loathing; the same look he had when Harry had just been released from Snape's pensieve. Arthur Weasley was staring at him with a mixture of regret, sadness, but mostly anger. Harry looked to see Fred and George who looked gratefully at Harry. Remus looked proud, yet sad; Tonks was smiling at him. But all the others had the same look; the look of adoration.

"Wonderful spell, isn't it?" Lucius said.

Harry didn't answer. He was staring at Arthur. Harry felt his eyes burning even more as he stared at that face. Harry knew what the spell did now.

"It shows how they really feel about you," Malfoy answered for him. "I'm glad to see that old Severus forgets to wear his mask. He hates you most of all... save Weasley. That is a surprise. No, wait... You're the reason his wife is dead, isn't that right?" he asked. Harry could tell by his tone that Lucius was grinning. Harry kept staring at Arthur; he was getting angrier with Harry, vexed, livid. Harry broke away.

"I never knew it would be this fun," he said, laughing with his other Order members. "Dumbledore seems to adore you like the rest, isn't that sweet?"

Harry saw that Dumbledore looked down upon him like a son. Ron's look was hard to distinguish, but Harry felt that he knew what it was. Hermione had an expression Harry had never seen her wear.

"Now, about our game," Lucius went on. "Shall we get on with it?"

Harry barely had time to turn around. Malfoy had removed the spell from the group. They all seemed to know what was going on now. Their faces read fear. They started to cry and shiver.

Burgess and Philby walked forward and took hold of a family of three; a mother, a father, and a young boy with dark hair. They pulled the family forward. The mother was clasping onto her son very tightly, while the father looked protective and brave, without fear.

"They're perfect, aren't they?" Lucius said to Harry.

"Please," the mother whimpered, "please don't hurt us."

"Now, Harry," Lucius began, ignoring the woman. "Who gets to die?"

Harry snapped his head around. "What?" he asked breathlessly.

"You heard me. I'll give you to the count of ten. Try to think of who you wanted most when you were young. Of course," he said with a chuckle, "even when you did acquire substitutes, they too died at our hands. One," he began. "Two."

Harry looked at their faces. The father and mother were protecting their son. The mother was in hysterics pleading for her son's life. The father stood protecting both of them.

"Seven," Lucius counted on.

Harry couldn't do this. He couldn't chose which one would be slain, like an animal.

"Ten," he completed. "Well, Harry? Mother, father, or little Billy?"

"No one!" Harry shouted. "You can't kill them!"

"But I can. You won't decide?" he asked, simpering. "Tsk, tsk, Harry. I guess I will have to do it for you. They say there is nothing more horrible than the loss of a child. Parents want to die before their children. So let's go that way."

The mother screamed and the father stepped forward. But Burgess, with the wave of his wand, blew the parents away like they were flies. The boy stood alone, crying and shaking. Lucius lowered his wand at him and started to utter those horrible words.

Harry ran forward and pushed Malfoy's hand towards the ceiling just as the spell was shot. One of the rafters of the Great Hall was temporarily in flame.

Malfoy didn't look disappointed at all, though, when Harry saw his face. He looked pleased, like he wanted Harry to stop him.

He grabbed Harry by the wrists and threw him back.

"I thought the great Harry Potter had powers beyond any wizard? What is this, then? Have I just put him on the ground?" He walked over and pushed his foot on Harry's chest. Harry couldn't throw him off. He didn't understand. He could do better than this! Harry closed his eyes again and tried to remember what Dumbledore had trained him to do. Anger is weak. Let go of your anger and embrace your own power, Harry. He slammed his fists on the ground and pulled himself up with ease. Malfoy was thrown from him.

Some of the hostages applauded him. He could hear Fred and George telling him to kick ass. Burgess, Philby, Malfoy, and the other members of the Black Order were not laughing this time. Harry grinned and raised his hands in a martial arts motion.

"You broke my little rule," Malfoy said.

"I'm afraid that has always been a habit of mine, rule breaking."

"Yes, that's how Black died, wasn't it? You didn't obey your orders. Well this time there's a similar consequence. I will spare the family of three, but I'll have to replace the murder with someone you do care about. Perhaps one of the Weasley twins?"

Fred was pulled from the crowd, no longer looking confident that Harry could kick ass.

"Don't," Harry said, walking forward.

"No?" Malfoy said. "I'm not going to chose Weasley Senior. It would be much more fun if you were responsible for his wife's death and one of his sons. He has six, Harry; one can't be too much of a loss."

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked, looking at Fred.

"I told you. It's our little game. You were thirsty for knowledge about our Order, weren't you? You wanted to know about us? You were in charge of most of it, the search, that is. The entire Auror department was onto it. They worked hard to find little bits of information. Look around you, Potter. We're all here. This is what you wanted to find."

Harry shook his head and glanced at Fred. He looked determined now. Harry stared at him and nodded.

"I think Weasley twin number one can pay for your heroics tonight," Malfoy continued. He pointed his wand at Fred, who didn't flinch, and started to speak the curse.

Harry leapt straight up into the air, high, and kicked as hard as he could at Malfoy's head. Malfoy let out a grunt of pain and fell to the ground. Harry hit the floor, but crouched down. He spread his arms out. Beams, like lightning, spewed forth from his finger tips and struck Burgess and Philby, sending them flying a good fifteen feet in either direction. Harry got up and shoved Fred back into the crowd, then ran at an oncoming Black Order member. Harry jumped over him then sent him flying with the flick of his wrist; he landed on top of Burgess. Harry ran at another one. He was quite ugly and troll-like, but Harry didn't stare for long. He punched his jaw, broke his wrist, then spun around and kicked him with such force that he flew out a window, crashing into the glass.

"Stupefy!" one of them yelled at Harry, pointing his wand. But Harry ducked and with a gesture of his hand, the man's wand was now in Harry's hand.

"Oops," Harry said to him. The man's eyes widened and he ran. Harry chased after him, issuing spells from the wand. He struck; the man fell.

"Harry, look out!" Hermione yelled. He spun around to see three coming after him. Harry ducked the wand away in his pocket and ran up after them. He jumped on top of the staff table and vaulted off of it, sailing over his attackers' heads. He landed swiftly like a cat and swaggered over to Malfoy, pointing the wand at his chest. His free hand held the three assailants at bay with his magic.

"Now what, Malfoy?" Harry asked, unable to keep his grin inside.

Lucius smiled. "Impressive. Dumbledore has taught you well." He nodded then bent his head down and shut his eyes, as if meditating. Harry was confused; why was he letting down his guard?

Burgess and Philby got up and walked toward Malfoy again, looking far more agitated than before. They had their wands at the ready, pointed at Harry. But Harry didn't have another hand to stable them. He wished Dumbledore could break through the barrier and help him.

Burgess stared at Harry in a way very reminiscent of Snape. He looked to Malfoy, whose eyes were still sealed shut.

"What now, Lucius?"

Malfoy's eyes popped open and he grinned. Now all eight Black Order members surrounded Harry, wands pointed at him. The crowd of hostages was still trapped behind the barrier, but they were silent with anticipation.

"Game over," Malfoy spoke with pleasure. They formed a circle around Harry, lowering their wands. "And now you learn what of what I came for," he said to Harry.

Four of the Black Order rushed Harry and seized him, holding on tight. They were too strong now; he didn't know why. They were holding him back, but at the same time pushing him down so he couldn't kick anyone. The wand he held fell to the ground with a clatter. Harry tried pushing away, tried throwing them off, but he could hardly move. He didn't understand. He had taken four people at once before, why were they stronger than him?

Lucius walked forward with a malevolent grin. "I came for..." he said, pulling something from his pocket. He hauled it high into the air; Harry saw it gleam gold in the light, but briefly. Lucius bit his lip; the wrinkles above his eyes became violent. He thrust the object he held into Harry's chest, plunging it into his heart.

Harry let out a choked cry. His eyes widened in shock and terrible pain. Lucius laughed; his eyes over bright. He bent his head down to Harry's ear and whispered, "...the heart of a lion!"

He kissed Harry's forehead and twist the knife. Harry let out another cry; this one was barely audible, even to his own ears. He didn't feel the Black Order let go of him, but he saw them get smaller as they backed away. He fell to the ground. His feet were locked under his knees-- he heard his legs give an excruciating snap.

His vision was becoming cloudy as he labored to breathe. But it was sharp; it was cold. He lift his head a little, his eyes blurred with tears of pain. A golden grip inscribed with writing, embedded with jewels, was protruding from his chest. He couldn't see the blade. Blood was pooling around the golden handle, spreading, bleeding into his clothes. Harry couldn't hold his head anymore. It hit the stone floor.

Figures were all around him now. A girl in blue dress, someone with red hair, a man with a long white beard; his friends. He wanted to smile at them.

"Harry," Hermione said distantly. He could almost hear her. He felt her touching his face; her hand was shaking.

He was struggling to breathe now, it hurt too much. His eyes were starting to close. He saw more blurred shapes, faces, looking down at him. Hermione pushed back his lids to keep his eyes open; he wished she wouldn't. Dumbledore grabbed his hand and yelled something, but Harry couldn't make it out.

Everything was turning red and dark. The shapes and faces were going away. He could feel something coming out of his mouth, something warm and thick. Big black spots must be covering his eyes, for that's all he could see. They huddled together now, it was all black. It was completely black.