Harry Potter and the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not

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CHAPTER TEN

OF LEARNING AND LOSS

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Once back at Hogwarts, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione got ready to settle into their regular schedule of studying and classes again. Harry, however, had his mind on much more important matters. Harry felt an extreme anxiousness to see his headmaster again, and when Dumbledore didn't make an appearance in the dining hall that evening during dinner, Harry made his excuses and immediately left for Dumbledore's office. Harry felt antsy and troubled as he knocked urgently upon his headmaster's office door. He felt this intense foreboding that he couldn't really explain, except to say that he knew that Voldemort and his followers were definitely a threat again. Ironically, when Dumbledore answered the knock, he didn't appear surprised to see Harry standing there. In fact, it was almost as if he was already expecting him.

"Ah, good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said, admitting Harry into his office genially. "Did you have a nice holiday?"

"Oh yes, very nice," Harry answered distractedly. "Professor, I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but I have to ask you something."

"I presume that you've seen the article in the Daily Prophet," Dumbledore said knowingly, his calm blue gaze piercingly clear.

"How did you know that?" Harry asked, his green eyes wide as he goggled at his headmaster. Dumbledore smiled at him.

"Well, I know you, Harry," Dumbledore answered, simply. "I imagined that you would be rather - shall we say, 'spurred to action' by it."

"Well, yes sir. I was," Harry answered, meeting his headmaster's gaze firmly.

Dumbledore peered at Harry. He seemed to be looking for signs of the sorrow or fear that had plagued Harry so tenaciously earlier this term. Upon seeing Harry standing there in front of him, however, eager and full of a fierce determination to succeed, Dumbledore seemed to come to an important decision.

"Harry, I feel that the time has come for you to learn what is known as Legilimency. Although this knowledge is considered far beyond even N.E.W.T. level classes, I believe it is imperative that you have this skill. This form of magic is essentially the other side of Occlumency, which I know you have for all intents and purposes successfully mastered," Dumbledore smiled proudly at him before he continued.

"Legilimency is the branch of magic that allows the wizard using it to be able to know whether or not someone is telling him the truth. It can also allow a skilled wizard to search other people's minds. A word a caution, Harry. A strong Legilimens can extract memories out of other people's minds whenever he so chooses, and this kind of power borders on the Darkest kind of sorcery, the kind which Voldemort uses frequently. The only possible defense is for the victim to be an extremely strong and powerful Occlumens himself." Dumbledore paused to let the significance of what he had just said sink in.

"So, this is the same kind of magic that Voldemort uses?" Harry asked, feeling that he now knew the answer.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said.

Harry looked away from his headmaster for a moment. He let his eyes travel around Dumbledore's study, falling on the lightly dozing portraits of the previous headmasters and headmistresses, the many rich wooden bookshelves and gleaming instruments placed upon the small spindle-legged tables, and finally upon Fawkes, sleeping on his perch behind Dumbledore, his red and gold feathered head under his wing. Harry tried to consider the impact of the step that he was about to take. Harry did not want to be the same kind of wizard that Tom Riddle had turned into. He did not want to be capable of causing horror and fear, torture and death, like Voldemort did. But deep down inside, Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to defeat Voldemort by any other means. Harry had accepted the truth of this even before he had come into Dumbledore's office tonight. Harry thought of all of the good people in his life - the people that he was the closest to, the people he considered his family. Harry pictured each of their faces very clearly in his mind, then looked back at Dumbledore. Harry had already made his choice; he was doing this for them most of all.

"I have to do this, Professor," Harry said quietly, his eyes focusing back on Dumbledore again with a formidable resolve. "He has to be stopped."

Dumbledore gave a resigned sigh and said, "Very well then, Harry." Dumbledore then paused for a moment, and Harry gazed at him intently. "Like Occlumency, Legilimency involves a great deal of focus, of concentration. You must become acutely familiar with the rhythms of your body and mind. Close your eyes, Harry. You must know how to become completely still - slowing your breathing and listening to your own heartbeat. Enter the place in your mind where you've build your barrier. Methodically and carefully, let that barrier fall. Now you need to begin to focus outwardly. Your consciousness is searching for another mind, my mind. As you utter the incantation, 'Legilimens,' reach out and see if you can find the essence of my mind."

Harry had his eyes shut extremely tightly as he slowed his breathing and heartbeat. He went to the place in his mind where he had put up the protective shield and very slowly and deliberately lowered it. Harry could picture in his mind's eye the tangible outline that he had imagined as his own mind. Harry pointed his wand at Dumbledore and quietly spoke the incantation. Harry then sent out a thought, almost like a narrow beam of light, that went in search of Dumbledore's mind. Harry knew that Dumbledore was sitting in front of him and he sent the beam in that direction. Suddenly he saw an image - it was as if he was playing a movie, projecting it into his own mind like it was a screen. The images came in small flashes, similar to what Harry had experienced while learning Occlumency, except that this time the memories were Dumbledore's instead of his.

First, Harry saw someone in glasses with a mass of black hair standing in a room with rich dark wooden paneling that Harry had never seen before. The man turned towards him and said, "Of course we'll join the Order, sir. We want to help however we can." - Then, two men were sitting on a brown leather sofa clicking a pair of butterbeers together looking utterly jubilant. As they turned towards him, the one in glasses said, smiling, "We've just found out and wanted you to celebrate with us, Professor. Lily's expecting! The baby's due in July. We're going to name Sirius, here, as the godfather." - Then, the same man with dark untidy hair was sitting with his arm around an unmistakably pregnant woman with long red hair, she was resting her hand lightly upon her swollen abdomen. Instead of looking happy, though, their faces appeared deeply troubled and upset. The woman asked, "Prophecy? But he's not even born, yet. How could there possibly be a prophecy about our baby and Voldemort?" - Then, the red haired woman opened a thick heavy wooden door and ushered him in as a dark-haired, green-eyed infant cried from a nearby cradle. As the woman reached out to tenderly soothe the baby, she said in hushed tones, "We've decided to take your advice, Professor. We're going into hiding. We can't take the chance that he'll come after Harry, even with all of the Protective Charms available. No matter what it takes, Voldemort isn't going to touch our son. "

Abruptly, the images stopped. They had come in very quick succession, and Harry's mind was reeling from the sizable amount of information that had just careened into it. Harry opened his eyes slowly and glanced over at Dumbledore. The headmaster didn't seem unsteady or ill like Harry had after having had that spell placed upon him. Dumbledore did, however, look surprised.

"I believe that you have an amazing aptitude in this branch of magic, Harry," Dumbledore said, dryly.

Harry sat there for a moment, quite stunned at what he had accomplished. Harry also felt rather shaken; he knew that his parents had been murdered shortly after that last image, and he wondered if Dumbledore had intentionally allowed him to see those specific memories. Harry's head began to fill with burning questions; he felt compelled to understand the images that he had pulled from Dumbledore's mind. One question, however, superceded all the others.

"My parents... you told them about the prophecy?" Harry asked, pointedly.

"Yes, Harry, I did. I sat down with them and also at another time, with the Longbottom's shortly before you and Neville were born. At that time, of course, we were still unsure which of you the prophecy was about," Dumbledore responded, quietly. Harry frowned deeply as a certain bleak realization suddenly hit him.

"Yet Voldemort and his Death Eaters managed to find everyone he wanted anyway, even after you had warned them," Harry said, bitterly. Harry's thoughts drifted for a moment to his friend, Neville Longbottom. Sometime after Voldemort had killed Harry's parents, Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured the Longbottom's into insanity. Harry knew that both he and Neville had been horribly and irretrievably affected by the evil actions of Lord Voldemort and his followers.

"Harry," Dumbledore spoke again, yanking Harry out of his rather angry train of thought. "I must warn you. You've just demonstrated to me that you are able with remarkable ease to practice Legilimency. Understand this, the imagery that you are able to extract from some people's minds can be so - well, so traumatic, that you can hurt both them and yourself if you are not extremely careful. The act of retrieving the memories themselves can also cause irreparable damage - you must always remember to tread very lightly."

Harry gazed at his headmaster. For some reason, Harry could now sense a great amount of tension and worry beneath his calm exterior. "Professor, I hope you know that I would never intentionally use this against anyone unless I had no other choice," Harry said. Without warning, Harry's insides squirmed uncomfortably as he imagined having to use Legilimency against someone like Voldemort or Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry could already imagine what kind of horrors would exist in a mind that twisted and evil - he even cringed marginally at the thought. Dumbledore noticed Harry's trepidation, and he seemed to relax fractionally.

"I know, Harry. I just wish that this burden was not yours to carry."

Harry merely nodded. He appreciated Dumbledore's concern, but he also knew that it wouldn't really change anything. A few years ago, Harry had naively believed that Dumbledore had the power to solve any problem, no matter how large, but that innocent notion had long since been dispelled. The truth of the matter was that everything in Harry's life was coming to a head, and it all hinged upon his ability to succeed - failure was simply not an option.

By the time that Harry got back to his dormitory, it was rather late. Harry changed into his pajamas and got into bed, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from replaying the images he had seen in Dumbledore's mind over and over again. Because of one violent and malevolent man, his parent's lives had gone from one of blissful happiness to a terrifying dread, and then ultimately to their deaths. Unable to sleep, Harry crept out of bed and as quietly as he could pulled his photo album down from the bookshelf. Harry drew his curtains around him as he lit his wand, focusing on the young faces of Lily and James Potter. Even though he had looked at these pictures many times over the years, Harry had never realized just how young his parents had actually been. As he remembered his father clicking a bottle of butterbeer together with Sirius and then the image of his heavily pregnant mother as she had gazed back at Dumbledore with great fear in her eyes, Harry realized that they couldn't have been very much older than he was now. Harry sat up for a long time focusing on both the photographs in front of him and the memories he had witnessed. Finally, just before dawn, Harry's eyes closed and his mind coasted into a deep slumber.

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Harry was awakened only a couple of hours later by Ron. "Something's happened, Harry. Come on, get up," Ron said urgently, his vivid red hair slightly rumpled, an edge of panic to his voice. No one else was in the dormitory, they had evidently all gone down downstairs.

Harry tiredly pushed his glasses on his face and quickly threw on some clothes as he asked Ron, "What is it?"

"I'll explain in a minute, just hurry up," Ron said, somewhat distractedly. Harry jumped into his trainers and then followed Ron to the common room.

What they found there was a state of near pandemonium. Upon their arrival Ginny and Hermione ran up to them, obviously alarmed. There were several girls sobbing outright, and everyone seemed extremely hesitant and fearful - many were standing in tight knots quite close together as if afraid to be alone. Harry's first thought was that something terrible had perhaps happened to a teacher, possibly McGonagall from the way everyone was acting, but then Professor McGonagall herself entered through the portrait hole.

McGonagall's face was almost colorless, but her mouth was set in an extremely firm line as she surveyed her waiting students. "We have just received word from the Minister of Magic that You-Know-Who and his followers have been active once more. Families are being notified, but apparently they have gone on a murderous rampage through London. The Dark Mark has appeared over several homes during the last hour, both Wizard and Muggle. We are currently securing the school and we ask everyone to try to stay calm. Do not leave this room unless it is to go to your dormitories. I'll be back to check on you as soon as I can."

Upon McGonagall's departure, the tension in the common room was greatly increased, it was as if it was something physically real. Now that he could, Harry turned to Ron.

"What's happened? Which families have they gone after?" Harry asked as the four of them stood off to one side in a corner of the room.

"That's the problem, no one really knows. The only thing we've heard is that someone got an owl with a panicked scrawl saying that the Death Eaters were out killing people. We don't know anything more than that, Harry," Ron said, his face exceedingly pale.

"Are they trying to attack Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"We don't know, but we think they're just securing the school as a precaution," Hermione answered this time. She was trembling, and she looked as though she was putting an immense amount of effort into keeping herself from falling apart. After the recent scare from the day before, though, Harry knew that Hermione's nerves had to be completely on edge.

After an entire hour of horribly intense waiting, Professor McGonagall finally entered through the portrait hole again. "I need to see the following students over here please," she said. Harry noticed that McGonagall's face had lost its firm look and now appeared tremendously sad; he had never seen her look quite that way before. "Duncan Morey, Ron and Ginny Weasley, I need you to come with me, please."

Harry's stomach felt as if it had just hit the floor. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other in shock as Ron and Ginny moved away from them towards Professor McGonagall, each of them as white as a ghost. Ron and Ginny had only gotten a few steps nearer to McGonagall, however, when both Harry and Hermione stepped forward and said in unison, "We're going, too."

Harry had expected his Head of House to try to refuse them, but instead she merely nodded and led the five of them out of the Gryffindor common room. As they walked along the abandoned and ominously quiet corridors, Harry felt a tremendous amount of dread, almost as if something was getting ready to fall on all of them and crush them out of existence. They were heading towards Professor Dumbledore's office. As they entered the parlor full of portraits, Dumbledore conjured enough thick and squashy armchairs for everyone to sit down. The chairs looked just like the ones he had conjured during Harry's trial at the Ministry of Magic last year. Harry noticed that two other students had joined them. Professor Flitwick was escorting Stewart Ackerley, a Ravenclaw third year into the room, and an extremely petrified looking first year girl in Hufflepuff robes was being brought in by Professor Sprout. Dumbledore didn't object to Harry or Hermione's presence; he looked as though he had expected nothing less.

"Everyone please have a seat. I unfortunately have some bad news to impart to you, and I am afraid that there is no gentle way to convey it. The following people were found this morning, the Dark Mark had been cast over each of their homes. I am profoundly sorry to say that none of them survived the attack." At this point every person in the room tensed visibly - Harry began to hold his breath. "Stewart, it was your father, William, who was found in your cottage this morning. Sarah," Dumbledore said, focusing especially kind eyes on the Hufflepuff first year girl, "I am sorry that your grandparents, Benjamin and Phyllis were both found as well. Duncan, your mother, Janice, was found this morning at your home. Your father, Edward, had already gone to work and he has notified us that he will be here very soon. Ron and Ginny," Dumbledore paused as he took a long breath. Harry was sitting between Ron and Ginny and at the mention of their names, both of them trembled violently. "It was your brother, Percy. He was found in his flat in London this morning. Your families are on their way now and should be arriving at the school shortly. Please take whatever time you need."

At first nobody moved. Everything seemed strangely unreal. Every single one of them sat there in a stunned silence, perfectly still. Harry then looked cautiously over at Ginny. She was staring straight ahead of her, her eyes totally unfocused. Ron had a similar expression of shocked disbelief on his face. Harry knew that it hadn't really hit them, yet. Within moments, however, the little Hufflepuff girl gave a terrible wail of grief, and that was all it took. Ginny's eyes were full of tears as she let out a horrified sob. Harry jumped up instantly and held her in his arms as everyone else succumbed, too. Stewart Ackerley was hiding his face in his hands, clearly distraught. Duncan Morey was walking shakily into one of the corners of Dumbledore's office, his dark blond head lowered in sorrow, tears flowing down his face freely.

Ron was suddenly looking angry. He abruptly pelted out of his chair and stalked quickly to the door as if to leave the room. Hermione was watching him with her hands over her mouth before peering over at Harry helplessly. Harry was still holding Ginny, but he turned anyway and yelled out Ron's name to try to stop him. Ron, though, had already reached the door. Unlike last year when Dumbledore had purposely locked a raging and grief-stricken Harry in this office; now, the door swung wide open. Harry then watched woefully as Ron ran full tilt down the spiral staircase and across the empty corridor, hastily disappearing from sight.

When Hermione made to run after him, Harry stopped her. "Just let him go, Hermione," he told her, quietly.

The teachers had tried their best to be there for the students as they fell apart, and the sound of everyone's terror and grief was all around him as Harry watched the first of the student's families enter Dumbledore's office. Harry felt he had to remain strong for Ginny, but seeing Mr. Weasley's horribly pale and lost expression was just about more than he could take. Mrs. Weasley was completely hysterical. Mr. Weasley had to practically carry her into Dumbledore's office where Professor McGonagall immediately began to tend to her. Professor Dumbledore, having witnessed this, began to stride to his fireplace. He took a pinch of floo-powder and stuck his silver head inside of the flames asking Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, to come to everyone's assistance.

Madam Pomfrey came in shortly thereafter, her arms full of calming draughts and sleeping potions. Harry noticed that everyone was getting some attention except for Hermione, and he waved her over to where he was standing continuing to hold an achingly sorrowful Ginny. Harry then wrapped an arm around Hermione, too, trying to comfort them both. He didn't know what else to do; Harry knew from his own experience that everyone was in shock and that only time would really help to ease the pain. As Madam Pomfrey administered a calming draught to Mrs. Weasley, she came to herself enough to realize that her daughter was sobbing nearby. She reached out to Ginny, who then began to embrace her mother tearfully. Hermione appeared to be more worried than sad as she continued to look for Ron through the open door of Dumbledore's office.

"He'll be all right, eventually, Hermione. Ron will come back when he's ready," Harry said to her, knowing full well that it might be a very long time before Ron was himself again.

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Classes were cancelled for the rest of that week. The atmosphere at Hogwarts gravitated between stunned disbelief and outright horror. Nearly every student in the school was appalled at what had happened, and most seemed fearful that it might actually happen to them as well. It was almost as though the comfortable safety net the school had always provided had been stripped away, and everyone was left feeling unprotected and exposed. Owls were constantly being sent home at this point - it was difficult for those students who didn't have their own owls to even find one since so many from the Owlery were already being used.

Hagrid had ultimately found Ron at the very outskirts of the forest. Hagrid had taken him in to his parents, and he and Ginny had gone back to the Burrow for the next couple of days. Harry and Hermione had stayed behind, feeling that this was a time for family. During those long dreary days while Ron and Ginny were gone, Harry ironically remembered that he had been so desperate to keep the article about the Death Eaters away from them so that they wouldn't worry. It was all irrelevant now, that article didn't even matter anymore.

Harry couldn't help remembering the boggart at Grimmauld Place last year that had transformed into the dead bodies of each member of Mrs. Weasley's family in turn. He remembered that her worst fear had been the loss of someone she loved and that Percy had been one of the people she had been concerned about the most. Percy had deserted the family about a year and a half before. For whatever reason, Percy had decided that the Daily Prophet and Cornelius Fudge were more trustworthy than Harry, Professor Dumbledore, and indeed, his own family were. Sadly, Harry also knew he would probably never find out whether or not Percy had been planning to reconcile with his family after Fudge's dismissal. Percy had not contacted his family, even at Christmas, but unlike last year he hadn't sent back his Christmas jumper, either. Harry hoped that that small glimmer of hope would help, at least in some small way, to comfort and console the Weasleys as the family grieved together at home.

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Ron and Ginny returned to Hogwarts on that following Thursday. Upon their arrival in the Gryffindor common room, Harry and Hermione practically leapt across the room to meet them. Both of them had just about worried themselves sick since the Weasley family's departure, neither of them eating or sleeping as much as they should have been. When Harry reached Ginny he opened his arms and embraced her, her face was still looking a bit puffy and tear-stained. When Hermione reached Ron, however, he didn't even acknowledge her presence; instead he stepped back from her warily, evidently unwilling to speak to her or anyone else. For a moment, Ron had continued to glare down sullenly at the ancient oriental rug that covered most of the common room floor. Then, rather abruptly, Ron mumbled something unintelligible as he vanished hastily upstairs, seemingly eager to be alone.

Hermione appeared to be very hurt at being shut out like this by Ron - she looked as though he had just slapped her across the face. Harry had some idea of why Ron was reacting this way, but being able to properly explain it to anyone else wasn't something that he was sure he could do. Harry turned and said awkwardly, "Er... Hermione?"

Hermione stood there blankly for a few seconds gaping after Ron in injured disbelief. She then dissolved into reproachful tears and ran quickly from the room, leaving a pronounced silence in her wake. Harry was tremendously saddened by what had just happened, and he slowly gazed down at Ginny.

Ginny was shivering as though cold. After a silent pause, she spoke in a shaken whisper, "Ron's been like this ever since the day we found out. It's like he's completely walled himself off from everybody. He won't let anyone get near enough to help him."

At Ginny's words, Harry began to understand something important about his best friend. Harry knew that Ron had grown up in an impoverished household that had always struggled to make ends meet, but Ron had also always had the full support and security of a strong and very loving family. Unlike Harry, who had grown up with an almost endless barrage of difficulties and obstacles to face, Ron's life to that point had been relatively easy. Ron had never had to deal with pain or sorrow of this magnitude before. Harry could see that Ron simply didn't know how to respond or react to this horrible situation, and that he was attempting to run away from the pain to avoid facing it.

There were only a few people in the common room at that particular moment, and the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis, were among them. The Creevey's were sitting in the squashy armchairs closest to the fire. When Harry glanced over in their direction, he noticed that they appeared to be watching him. Colin and Dennis were wearing slightly startled expressions on their faces, and Harry realized that they had apparently just witnessed what had happened between Ron and Hermione. Harry took Ginny's hand and began to lead her to a chair across the room when Colin and Dennis got up abruptly.

"Here, Harry. You and Ginny can have our seats, we were just leaving," Colin said considerately, as he and Dennis headed upstairs.

"Thanks, guys," Harry said sincerely, surprised at their thoughtfulness. In the past, the Creevey brothers had been much more likely to want a photo or some other such nonsense from Harry, idolizing him blindly because he was famous. Last year, however, while training with Harry during the D. A. meetings, Colin and Dennis had finally begun to lose some of their star-struck admiration towards him. They were still excited to see Harry or talk to him, but now they treated him more like the real person that he was - instead of some stereotypical larger-than-life image. Though Harry had known that they had been well-intentioned, their previous obsessive behavior had always rather annoyed him, and Harry greatly appreciated the apparent change in their attitudes toward him.

"How is everyone back at the Burrow?" Harry asked Ginny quietly once they had situated themselves next to the roaring warmth of the hearth fire. It took her a while to respond.

"Not very good," Ginny answered, peering deeply into the flames. "I thought it might get better once Charlie returned from Romania, but Mum's still a real mess. She says that she should have tried harder to bring Percy back home."

"But it's not your mum's fault," Harry said, indignantly. "She even went to his apartment last year, but he shut the door in her face."

"I know..." Ginny said, beginning to tear up again. "I don't think our family's ever going to be the same again, Harry, not ever. Mum has been crying nonstop. Dad, Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George spend hours staring blankly out the window, not talking to anyone. And Ron has been keeping himself isolated from everyone else; he stayed up in his room nearly the whole time we were home. I think it's because we all know that Percy won't be coming back now - that we'll never get the chance to fix things between him and us - it's so aw... awful..." she sobbed, totally breaking down.

Ginny fell against Harry and he held on to her tightly, trying to ignore how he was feeling himself. These were the same exact emotions that he had felt and tried to fight over these past six months, and seeing them displayed like this in Ginny was horribly difficult. Harry could feel the pain and hurt in Ginny's heart almost as though it were his own. Unexpectedly, however, Neville came running down the stairs that led to his and Harry's dormitory, looking extremely alarmed.

"Harry," Neville gasped, slightly out of breath. "I think you'd better get up here, it's Ron."

Harry glanced quickly at Ginny who was suddenly looking very frightened. "You'd better go, Harry," she said.

Harry bounded up the stairs two at a time, Neville right behind him. When Harry got to the dormitory, he heard a furious roar coming from Ron and had to immediately duck down to avoid the book that he had just thrown violently across the room in Harry's direction. The many items around Ron's bed were in total disarray, and he seemed to be bent on demolishing the rest of the room as well - he was throwing anything he could get his hands on. Harry then jumped to his right just in time as a bottle of ink hit the mirror behind him, splattering ink and broken shards all over the carpet and Neville's bed. As Harry inched his way closer to Ron, he could hear him muttering bitterly to himself.

"Stupid idiotic prat! Bloody bastard, go off and get himself killed!" Ron cursed acidly, as he picked up a vase and flung it dangerously away from him, apparently past knowing or caring where it landed. A shower of glass from its remnants was now raining down on the carpet by the hearth. Ron hadn't noticed that Harry had entered the dormitory, yet. Neville was standing by the door out of the way.

"Er... Ron," Harry began softly, hoping to get his attention without enraging him further. Ron turned his head in Harry's direction and saw Neville standing in the open doorway.

"GET OUT OF HERE, NEVILLE!" Ron yelled explosively at the top of his lungs.

Neville hastily glanced at Harry; he seemed to think that Harry might not be able to handle this turbulent situation on his own. Harry, though, fearing for Neville's safety, nodded firmly in his direction, and Neville reluctantly turned and walked cautiously back down the stairs. Harry then took a few tentative steps closer to his best friend. Ron rounded on him ferociously, his face full of a terrifying rage. Harry had never seen Ron in such a state.

"BACK OFF, HARRY!" Ron bellowed at him still seething, as he grasped another heavy schoolbook and sent it crashing through the nearby window.

Harry stood unmoving, wondering how in the world he was going to get through to him. Harry thought he knew exactly how Ron was feeling at the moment, and he realized that in his current state of mind, Ron could actually prove to be quite dangerous. Harry knew he had to reach him somehow - he had to make Ron come back to his senses quickly before anything really bad happened.

"Ron, listen to me, mate," Harry tried again. Ron wasn't through raging and storming, however, and he then grabbed a heavy brass bookend and proceeded to heave it defiantly through the air. He had flung it with such force that it gouged a small hole in the ancient stone wall directly to Harry's left.

"Look, Ron, I've been where you are right now, and I know how horrible it feels, okay," Harry tried once more, staying watchful.

"YOU DON'T KNOW, HARRY! NO ONE DOES!" Ron shouted loud enough that Harry was sure that the whole tower could hear him. He seemed beyond all reason.

"I do, Ron. Listen to me, you've got to settle down or you're going to hurt yourself or somebody else," Harry said, trying to stay calm. He began silently praying that Ron would run out of steam soon.

Ron let out another huge roar of frustration as he pounded his fists violently into the wooden bookshelf behind him, causing the many heavy contents it held to fall crashing to the floor. Harry was becoming increasingly worried. If Ron didn't stop before long, Harry knew he was going to have to jinx him before he did some real damage to himself. As Ron continued to pound the shelf furiously - coming frighteningly close to losing control completely - Harry saw someone standing in the doorway out of the corner of his eye. Harry turned; it was Hermione. Ginny was standing immediately behind her, staring at her brother in utter horror. The immense amount of pain and anguish that Ron was feeling was tremendously palpable, Harry could almost feel it radiating throughout the room. Hermione was cautiously entering their dormitory. Even though Harry knew that Ron had hurt Hermione's feelings only an hour before, she seemed fiercely determined to reach him, nevertheless.

"Ron," Hermione said bravely, in a soft but firm voice, "I know you're feeling angry and upset right now, but you have to stop this. You've got to let yourself mourn."

"GET OUT, ALL OF YOU! I DON'T NEED YOU! I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANY OF YOU EVER AGAIN! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW I FEEL!" Ron screamed at the wall, his voice beginning to break.

"But we know how we feel about you, Ron. We care about you too much to let you do this to yourself," Hermione then paused and Ron finally looked up at her. "I know that I care... I know that I love you," Hermione whispered, her eyes focused intently upon Ron's face.

Ron had been staring directly into Hermione's eyes as she had been speaking, and at these powerful words, the dam of emotion began to break inside of him. Ron's fury abruptly melted away as he slumped over on the floor, seemingly falling in on himself, and Harry watched as Hermione rushed over to Ron and placed her arms around him protectively. This time Ron didn't ignore her or push her away, instead he pulled Hermione towards him as though his very life depended on her.

Harry didn't need to perform Legilimency to know what was coming next and as he turned towards Ginny, they swiftly made to leave the room. As they reached the doorway, Harry heard Ron's first desperate sob and he hurried to shut the door. Once outside Harry stopped, leaning heavily against the stone wall at the top of the staircase. Harry could feel his knees suddenly give way underneath him and he sat down at once trying to master the powerful emotions inside of him. Ginny fell next to him a second later, an expression of heartbreaking sadness covering her fair face. They then found themselves reaching for each other intuitively and couldn't help listening as Ron finally allowed himself to grieve.

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Harry tried to give Ron lots of space over the next few days, spending most of his time with Ginny. Ron was currently sullen and very quiet; he looked worse than Harry had ever seen him. Hermione had been trying to force him to eat something at mealtimes, but so far, Ron wouldn't take more than a couple of bites at any one sitting. Before the Death Eater's attacks had killed those people in London, Ron had always been the kind of person who would fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Now, however, Harry knew from the lack of Ron's usual snores that he was lying awake. As Harry turned over at about three o'clock one morning, he noticed that Ron was sitting up in bed, staring numbly out the frosted window between Neville and Seamus' beds.

"Ron," Harry whispered. "All right, mate?"

Ron turned his head in Harry's direction almost listlessly. Harry put his glasses on as he sat up, so that he could see Ron clearly. Ron was glancing in Harry's general vicinity, but he would not meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry about the other night, Harry," Ron said in a rather raw voice, turning his head away from Harry and looking down. The moon was shining in through the window, bathing Ron's bed in a beam of pale silver moonlight. Harry saw that Ron's ears were red, not out of temper, Harry realized, but out of shame.

"You don't have to be sorry on my account. Remember who you're talking to - I've yelled at you loads of times," Harry responded, wanting to bring Ron out of his self-recriminating mood.

"Well, I still shouldn't have...." Ron trailed off, stubbornly continuing to blame himself. "I can't believe I just lost it like that. I can't believe I acted that way in front of you and Ginny.... and Hermione...."

Ron sounded so decimated and full of guilt that Harry felt compelled to make him feel better. He decided that Ron needed to be reminded of something. "Hermione said she loves you, you know," Harry said, quietly. "That has to mean something, doesn't it?" Ron jerked his head up quickly at these words and looked Harry directly in the face.

"I don't know why she said that. I don't see how that's possible after what I did," Ron said, miserably.

For some reason Harry was then reminded of what Lupin had said about women mellowing the men that they loved. Harry hadn't actually known what Lupin had meant by that at the time, but he felt like maybe he was beginning to understand. Harry didn't honestly know how he would've gotten through these last few months if it hadn't been for Ginny.

"Well, I guess somehow you just lucked out - we both have." Harry hesitated then, feeling the need to say what he had been thinking. "I'm sorry about Percy, Ron. I truly am."

"Yeah, me too," Ron said despondently, looking away again. Ron was quiet for a long time after that, and Harry had begun to think that he may not want to talk anymore. Unexpectedly, though, Ron asked, "Harry, how do you deal with all this... this stuff? I realized earlier that you've always had way worse to deal with than I have, until now, anyway. How do you do it? How do you live with it, Harry? How do you keep yourself from going completely mad?"

Harry was quite taken aback by Ron's questions. He had never asked Harry anything like this before. Maybe precisely because of that, Harry answered absolutely truthfully, though it cost him something to say it.

"I dunno," Harry answered, grimacing slightly, "I guess I just have to, don't I? It's not like I haven't already been right there on the edge sometimes."

"I really am sorry about what I did the other night - for what I said. You're the last person I should've ever said any of that to," Ron continued, either unwilling or unable to let it drop.

"Relax, Ron. I know you weren't yourself. Trust me, I understand."

"Yeah, okay."

Finally, Ron appeared to be satisfied. He looked a bit better, suddenly, almost as if he had purged himself of something dark and burdensome - he didn't seem nearly as tormented and guilt-ridden as before. Harry watched as Ron crossed his arms over his head and laid down again. Harry laid back down, too. After a few minutes, he heard Ron's light snores as they began to fill the dormitory, and Harry sighed gratefully as the moon shifted and cast the room into utter darkness once more.