Harry Potter and the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LOST BEYOND FINDING

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Harry's next memories were merely the faintest of bare flickers in his mind. He had only regained consciousness intermittently, and in his current state, Harry couldn't force the memories into any kind of coherent or logical order. Harry remembered the feeling of his body landing heavily upon his own bed and somehow seeing the blurry image of Ginny's hand-knitted throw as it slipped sideways from the impact and fell quietly to the floor in a soft red and gold heap. He remembered lots of screaming and noise coming from some unknown source. He remembered faces, many faces, all reflecting various stages of abject fear and horror. And Harry remembered pain - terrible, writhing, unadulterated pain that went on and on and never seemed to end. The one thing that Harry knew for certain was that his mind was no longer just his own - a creeping snakelike menace with red glowing eyes was there now, too, it's presence threatening unspeakable terror as it manifested itself forcefully into his psyche and slithered in and out of Harry's consciousness at frenetic intervals. After that, Harry knew only a place of numbing, blinding blackness where he seemed to fall interminably and obliviously into a wide, engulfing abyss.

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Harry couldn't make sense of anything as he awoke extremely slowly in a strange room that he didn't recognize - it was large and poorly lit and smelled vaguely medicinal. Harry's breath was coming shallowly in labored gasps, and he felt a sharp stabbing pain on the right side of his chest and back every time he inhaled. Harry saw his glasses sitting on a table next to the unfamiliar bed he was now lying in, and he gingerly tried to lift his hand and reach for them. As soon as he moved, though, Harry's whole body was immediately wracked with horrible convulsing coughs that made the right side of his torso sting so piercingly that he almost blacked out again from the sheer intensity of the pain. Unexpectedly, a small and familiar hand wearing a delicate gold bracelet reached out and gently touched his arm, and Harry, recognizing it, struggled to remain conscious as the dreadful coughing finally began to subside.

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had appeared on the right side of his bed looking stark white and worried out of their minds - they had been hovering nearby together just out of Harry's peripheral vision. After a moment, Harry's thick coughing settled into a ragged and uneven pattern of breathing again, and Ginny reached over and tenderly placed his glasses on his nose. Ginny's fair face was so red and swollen that Harry was sure that she must have been up crying all night, and Ron and Hermione didn't look much better. Ron was presently sporting both a black eye and a large bluish-gray bruise that arced very visibly across the left side of his face while Hermione stood between Ron and Ginny, clinging precariously to each of them for support.

Harry then noticed that someone else was entering the room just behind where Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were standing. He did not stop at Harry's bedside, however, but instead hastily crossed the room and stood doing something Harry couldn't see in the corner. He had not even glanced in their direction as he had entered the room, and Harry was rather shocked when he saw who it was. As soon as Harry recognized his black robed, greasy-haired, hook-nosed Potions master, he felt a concentrated and all-encompassing hatred that was far more powerful than even Harry had ever felt towards him before. Harry's scar felt as though it was igniting, causing an oddly cold burning to radiate outwards as he glowered fiercely at Snape - but as suddenly as the burst of pain had come it faded again, leaving a dull ache behind in its stead. Harry realized that the source of that surge of fury had less to do with his own feelings towards his professor and more to do with what was beginning to slither back into the recesses of his mind, and he felt tainted by it - like he was contaminated and unclean. Harry began to close his eyes and tried to turn away from everyone, but this attempted movement then threw his body into another agonizing coughing fit that left him dizzy from pain and lack of oxygen.

Upon seeing this, Snape ceased whatever he'd been doing in the corner and stood motionless observing Harry as he fought to stay awake and aware of his surroundings. Snape then skulked unhurriedly towards Harry and came to a stop at the foot of his bed. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were watching their professor warily - each of them unsure of what to expect. Snape's sallow face was looking even more pale than usual, his black eyes glittering inscrutably. Eventually, acting as though the three of them were not in the room at all, Snape leaned slightly forward and addressed Harry in the same hateful tones he always reserved just for him.

"It would be in your own best interests not to move at the present time. Your system has evidently been filled with a previously unknown and very dangerous potion, some of the ingredients of which are known to be lethal even on an individual basis. Your blood analysis indicates that you have been forced to take in a mixture of Veritaserum, snake venom, sap of Devil's Snare, and one of the Dark Lord's special poisons. Physical movement is therefore most unwise as it will only serve to increase the pain that you're already in. This is not to mention the fact that your right lung was punctured recently and is proving to be quite difficult to mend, so do yourself a favor Mr. Potter and lie still," Snape told him frostily.

"W-why are you here? What are you doing?" Harry asked in an extremely hoarse voice, he felt tremendously dazed and unsteady but he wanted to know what Snape was up to. Snape was sneering at him disdainfully as he spoke once more.

"I am endeavoring to determine if anything can be done for you, Potter. I know a great deal about poisons and the headmaster seemed to feel that I should be the one to undertake the creation of a possible antidote. As you have apparently ingested an especially large amount of these toxins, I am currently trying to ascertain the full extent of the damage so that I may attempt to cure you." Snape's voice sounded menacing, as if the last thing he would ever want to do was cure Harry of anything.

"Can't you do anything to help him, Professor?" Ginny then inquired in a tremulous voice.

"Were you not listening, Miss Weasley? Is that not precisely what I just said?" Snape snapped at her, his eyes flashing ominously.

"I know, sir, but he can barely stay conscious. When will you know something for certain?" Ginny asked more stubbornly this time. Snape glared at her, but he answered nevertheless - all be it indifferently.

"In approximately one hour. I shall send Madam Pomfrey in again." Snape then turned on his heel and left without a backwards glance, leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

"W-where are we?" Harry whispered roughly, a moment later.

"We're in the Room of Requirement, Harry," Hermione answered, looking at him cautiously.

"Why?"

"Well," Ron answered this time. "Dumbledore didn't want more than a chosen few to know where you are right now. Madam Pomfrey wanted to take you to the hospital wing, but Dumbledore insisted that you recover in a more secure location..." Ron broke off, his face ashen and strained.

"H-how long have I been out?" Harry managed to stutter past his severely raw throat.

"You've been out all day, ever since you got back..." Ron replied quietly. Got back, the words echoed through Harry's brain. Unexpectedly, Harry flinched as his scar throbbed sharply again, and with a frightening jolt he remembered what Voldemort had said about the Weasley's back in the cave. In a near panic, Harry abruptly reached out and seized Ron's wrist.

"L-listen to me. You m-must get your family away from the Burrow - they're not safe there anymore. Tell Dumbledore - t-tell the Order, you have to get them out... " Harry whispered urgently, but before anyone could react to what he'd just said, Madam Pomfrey came bustling into the room. She marched straight up to Harry and gingerly flipped him unto his stomach so that she could examine the wounds on his back. This, however, caused Harry to gasp painfully and collapse into another uncontrollable bout of breathless coughing. Madam Pomfrey then immediately whipped out her wand and muttered something as she pointed it at Harry. As his back was bathed in a bright healing blue light, the coughing ceased and Harry's breathing began to ease somewhat. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Harry looked down and noticed that his upper torso had been wrapped extensively with several layers of white gauzy bandages. As the nurse discarded the old bandages and started to dress the five deep puncture wounds with fresh new strips of linen, she spoke to Harry in her usual brisk tones.

"That's the third time I've had to do that, Mr. Potter. These wounds are absolutely refusing regular treatment. I don't like to think about how much blood you've already lost, but I can't risk giving you Blood-Replenishing Potion or anything else until we can determine how it might react to what's in your system," Madam Pomfrey explained as she carefully turned him back over. Her voice sounded much softer when she spoke again. "I'm going to speak with the headmaster. I'll be back to check on you soon." Harry nodded feebly up at her, feeling exceedingly ill and beyond exhausted. As she left the room, Ron then made a sudden movement, and Harry slowly turned his head to gaze in his direction.

"Harry, I'm going to go tell my family what you just told us, all right? I'll be back as quick as I can, but you're right. I have to make sure that they're safe," Ron said. His bruised face was still pale but he seemed completely resolute as his lanky form began to stride towards the door.

"I'm going with you, Ron," Hermione said as she rushed to catch up to him. Ron looked over at Harry with his eyebrows furrowed apprehensively and began to whisper to Hermione in an obviously distressed manner. Harry only heard bits and pieces of what Ron was saying, but he thought he caught a few disjointed words and phrases like "Dumbledore," "danger," and "by himself." Hermione seemed upset as she glanced over at Harry, too, but then Ginny spoke up sounding distinctly exasperated at the both of them.

"I don't know why each of you seem to think that you're the only two people in the world who can be there for Harry. In case you haven't noticed, I can watch over him as well as either of you can - it's not like I haven't helped Mum plenty of times when someone in the family was sick or hurt. Besides, I'm not about to let him out of my sight after everything that's happened, so get going, both of you. I'll be right here when you get back," Ginny said, in a voice that brooked no argument. Ron and Hermione looked rather stunned, but after a few seconds Ron reached for Hermione's hand and together the two of them ran out the door.

Ginny had been standing close by, but she then walked over to a cushioned chair on the far wall and began to lift something from it. Harry was beginning to feel a penetrating coldness that seemed to suffuse both his body and mind, and he started to shiver as he lay there in bed. Ginny reappeared at his side and unfolded what Harry now realized was the throw blanket she had knitted for him as a Christmas present just a few months before. She rapidly tossed it over Harry and then reached down and tugged at his other blankets, lifting them up to his chin and wrapping them more securely around him before sitting next to him on the bed. Harry's forehead and torso were aching savagely and he was still feeling troubled and anxious about the Weasley's, but his thinking was becoming increasingly murky and he was extremely glad that Ginny had decided to stay. Harry's thoughts then began to grow steadily more confused as he drifted into unconsciousness again, while the pain in his scar continued to rise and fall like waves crashing onto a rocky shore.

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Images were floating sluggishly above Harry's head a short time later. His brain was becoming more and more muddled as his mind was set adrift amid the dark currents of Voldemort's potion. Harry blinked as he tried to compel the images to make sense. At length, he recognized the images as faces and he stared up into them wearily. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and Snape were ranged around his bedside. Ginny had wrapped her arm protectively around his, and he focused on her pale face as his mind struggled to figure out what was happening. After a moment, Harry's head cleared enough to remember where he was and why he was here, and he was finally able to ask Ginny the question he'd tried to keep at the forefront of his memory.

"Is your family okay?" Harry whispered shakily, as he pulled her arm even closer.

"Don't worry, Harry, they're all at headquarters, now. Even Charlie - everyone's safe," Ginny whispered back, comfortingly, and Harry tried to relax again.

He then looked up and peered around at everybody once more - they all seemed incredibly tense. Harry noticed that Snape was cradling a potion bottle in the crook of his arm, it appeared to be full of some strange iridescent reddish-pink solution. Once they realized that Harry was awake, Dumbledore and Snape hurriedly walked off to the side speaking in carefully hushed tones that Harry couldn't really make out. After a couple of minutes, Dumbledore strode back to the bed and gazed into Harry's face.

"Harry," Dumbledore began in a fatigued voice, very unlike his normal soothing tones. "We are getting ready to try something that has never been attempted before. Professor Snape and myself have concocted what we hope is an antidote to the poison in your system. Unfortunately, this antidote may actually intensify some of the effects of the potion, but we must give it to you now if there is to be any chance of stopping it. I am afraid that this is not going to be pleasant, Harry, but we have no other choice," Dumbledore explained solemnly as he continued to watch him. Harry could only nod blankly as he then saw Dumbledore turn to Snape and take the proffered potion. Snape had poured the prescribed dose into a small crystal vial, not much larger than the ones Voldemort had used himself. Harry tried to sit up and reach for the vial, but his arms began to tremble from the effort and Ginny had to reach out and accept it from Dumbledore instead. As Ginny brought the antidote to Harry's lips so he could drink, Harry paused as he stared up into her eyes meaningfully, then swiftly took it down in a single gulp.

As the liquid hit Harry's stomach it felt briefly cold before a burning sensation then blossomed outwards and caused him to double over. At the same time, his scar began to flare with an even more excruciating intensity, and Harry shut his eyes against the sudden upsurge of pain. He then both saw and felt the outgrowth of Voldemort's consciousness that resided within his own head, and Harry could see the creeping dark presence look around at him quickly - the red glowing eyes wide with surprise. Though Harry hadn't uttered one word of an incantation, he could still detect that a narrow beam from his own mind was leaping forward as if to attack the skulking shadow near at hand. This beam of thought then sped closer and closer and as the two consciousnesses met, the snakelike visage began to shriek soundlessly in astonishment and rage. As his mind and Voldemort's mind became one, Harry glanced up and was stunned by what he saw....

Harry watched, fascinated, as he saw through different eyes a Muggle orphanage filled with many filthy children as they ran around the barren remnants of a decrepit old building and playground. The yard in front was utterly grassless and dusty and the children appeared, like Harry once had himself, smaller and skinnier than they should have. Harry saw no teachers or caretakers about - there seemed to be no adults around whatsoever - and abruptly a large boy with dull eyes and mousy hair had appeared directly in front of him, his fists raised threateningly. Harry felt a great amount of fear and then a blindingly cold fury that he knew wasn't his own. Before a fight could break out, however - before anything else could happen at all - the boy's hair was promptly set ablaze by an unknown and unseen source. Harry felt himself turn away as he began running from the scene fearfully, not wanting to be punished. Harry hid behind a nearby rubbish bin and peeked out to watch the bully run screaming into the rickety and windswept building while the other children looked on in horror. He was fully aware that he had somehow inflicted the burns that the bully was now suffering from, but far from being worried or guilty, Harry instead felt a odd sense of gratification as the mouth that was not his own opened and began to laugh.....

Next, Harry saw a massively huge green snakelike creature coming towards him in a slimy and dimly-lit underground chamber. To his left and right were a series of tangled and interconnected pipes that flowed outwards in every direction. Harry had been here before and his own instinct was to look away and run, but the one in the memory was totally unafraid. Instead, he spoke in a sinister slow hiss that Harry understood quite clearly. "Kill them! Rip them! Kill all the Mudbloods! Purify the school! Do as your Master commands you!" Harry watched as the great snake's gigantic body then slipped off through the massive network of pipes beneath the stone foundations of Hogwarts and knew with a terrible certainty that the basilisk would soon find its first victim....

Next, Harry saw himself in a mirror, only it wasn't his own bespectacled bright green eyes and black untidy hair that he saw. Instead, the reflection showed someone a bit older than he was - Harry could see a pale young man with dark hair peering back at him. The man actually did resemble Harry just slightly, but his eyes were hard, emotionless, like chips of ice. Harry watched the reflection as it quickly began to change. The pale skin turned into slick shiny scales, the face and body became long and narrow, and within seconds a large hooded black cobra with a forked-tongue was rearing up before the mirror. The snake then slithered away and began striking at a small pouch hung low from a table nearby. Harry could feel his own sharp fangs as they pierced the pouch over and over again, the material was firm and yet wasn't entirely unyielding. After several more strikes, the cobra stopped and then immediately coalesced back into the cold-eyed young man. The man swooped over to the pouch and extracted a small square container of what appeared to be plastic, it even looked a little like a piece of Aunt Petunia's Tupperware. The container was partially filled with a milky-white substance, which Harry realized had to be snake venom. The man took the venom and poured it carefully into a round wooden bowl. He then extracted from his robes a vial of something silvery and translucent and mixed the two together. After returning to the mirror the man took out a long dark wand and uttered what sounded like an spell under his breath, but it came out as the same unique hiss that Harry knew to be Parseltongue.

"Born and reborn, life and death, from the snake to the egg immortal, blood of purity - give me what I seek." The man then slowly and deliberately lifted the bowl to his lips and drank deeply until every drop of the mixture was gone. Instantly, he began to clutch at his heart and fall to the floor, and Harry felt a tremendous amount of pain in his chest, it was almost as though he had been punched by something exceptionally dense and fast-moving. Gradually the pain vanished and Harry got up and gazed at his reflection once more. The young dark-haired man had disappeared. He had been replaced by a sickly-white creature that had pupils that were long, sharp, and catlike. The eyes were red and glowing and his nostrils were flat, more like slits than anything else. The boy previously known as Tom Riddle had been erased forever as Lord Voldemort now stood in his place, and he stared triumphantly at his reflection as he released the evil high-pitched laugh that always filled Harry with inexpressible terror....

The scene changed again. Harry was looking down from a greater height than usual at a group of three kneeling figures, all in hooded black robes. He felt supreme and powerful as he glared at them, better and stronger than other wizards. After a moment, Harry heard himself order, "Rise." The three figures then rose from their knees and kissed the hem of his robes in a show of devoutly fanatical obedience. As each of them stood, they pushed back the hoods of their robes and Harry could see who each of them were. The first wizard, a man with an arrogant stance and a head full of white-blond hair was the furthest to the left, and Harry recognized him easily - it was Lucius Malfoy. The next wizard was quite young - barely any older than Harry was - with pale, faintly freckled skin and a mop of straight flaxen hair. This wizard was unfortunately no stranger to Harry, either - it would've been difficult to forget the man who had once been Barty Crouch's son. The next person was a witch with black shiny hair and heavy-lidded eyes; Harry may have even considered this younger version of Bellatrix Lestrange to be beautiful if he didn't already know what she was capable of. Harry summoned his three devoted servants forward imperiously, and they all unquestioningly rolled up the sleeves of their left arms and held them out to their master. Harry then reached out with his wand and touched each of them in turn on the forearm, and every time a black brand shaped like a skull with a serpent protruding out of its mouth progressively appeared upon their skin, giving off smoke. None of them cried out when their master did this, even though Harry could smell the horrible acrid odor of burning flesh in his nostrils. When he was finished, the three of them kneeled once more and Harry heard himself say, "You belong to me...."

Harry then looked upon a rather idyllic scene. The dusky orange moon was full as it floated hazily in the star-filled sky and illuminated what appeared to be a quietly tranquil Muggle village. The street he was on didn't appear to be stodgy or stilted like Privet Drive, though, instead it seemed warm and inviting even if it was currently asleep. There was a slight chill in the air and he could hear the crunch of fallen leaves beneath his feet as he glanced towards the end of the lane. Harry could see a pale yellow two-story cottage there, it was one of the only ones that was still lit up inside and as he began to tread towards it he had the distinct impression that the neighbors were unaware of its presence. This home was one of the loveliest on the lane, with thick copious rose bushes that remained persistently in bloom lining the front of the house and closed up Morning Glories climbing the large trellises that wrapped around the dome-shaped front door, though some of the petals were beginning to fall due to the increasingly cooler temperatures. Harry placed his wand to the lock on the front door and whispered, "Alohomora." The door sprang open to reveal a cozy-looking living room with a dark leather sofa up against one wall.

Harry thought that that particular sofa seemed vaguely familiar to him, but then his eyes fell upon a man in robes sitting half-asleep in a nearby chair with a copy of the Daily Prophet lying open across his chest. The man had rumpled black hair and glasses, and Harry's heart nearly stopped as he realized with absolute horror where he was and what he was about to see. As a wave of panic seized him, Harry began to strive as hard as he could to break the connection to Voldemort's mind, but it was like running face first into a brick wall and Harry was hopelessly trapped behind it. With rising hysteria, Harry desperately began to try anything, everything he could think of to change the outcome - he tried to control Voldemort's actions, he tried to wake up, he tried to yell a warning -- but nothing worked. As a last resort Harry finally attempted to simply look away from what was happening, but that failed as well, and the terrible memory pushed relentlessly on.

The man had just glanced up at him, startled. His face was full of a shocked disbelief, but he recovered quickly as he sprang with remarkable speed to his feet. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off --" James Potter screamed up the carpeted stairwell. Harry could hear someone scrambling about upstairs, and he cackled mirthlessly.

Harry swiftly raised his wand and pointed it into James' face as he roared, "Avada Kedavra!" James, however, moved faster than Harry would have thought possible. He dove out of sight to the next room as Harry heard something fall over and crash on the next floor, and Harry could then hear the sounds of shushing as a baby cried somewhere above him.

James chose that precise moment to poke his wand around the door and shout at the top of his voice, "STUPIFY!" Voldemort, though, simply Disapparated from his spot by the front door, and Apparated again, appearing within a foot of his quarry. James was once more on his feet when Voldemort spoke the words of the Killing Curse again -- but this time there was no time for him to react. Harry watched as James Potter's body then began to fall heavily to the floor of his own brightly lit kitchen - his eyes blank and unseeing behind the wire-rim glasses. No visible mark blemished the face - so similar to Harry's own - as he came to a rest sprawled upon his back, his form now deathly still.

Inside his own mind Harry cried out silently, but the memory was continuing on with a brutal ruthlessness and Harry then felt himself climbing the stairs to the second floor. Upon reaching the hallway, everything was quiet. The scuffling sounds had stopped echoing from the upstairs rooms and as Harry looked around, he realized that even the baby had fallen silent. Deep down Harry prayed that this would end differently, that she had somehow managed to escape this time, but then he began to creep forward again. The hallway was lined with four doors facing each other and at the end there was a blown-glass window framed with flowing blue curtains facing the street. As Harry gazed over toward the window, he was able to discern that there were moving photographs displayed side by side on one of the walls. The photographs were mostly of a black-haired, green-eyed infant as he rolled around happily upon the floor - one of the pictures even depicted a smaller, softer version of a Quaffle being grasped in the baby's tiny fingers.

Another showed the infant being held proudly by James as Lily lovingly kissed first the baby and then her husband on the top of the head, and Harry felt a sickening jolt as he remembered that that proud wizard, his father, now lay dead upon the floor downstairs. Harry took a few steps forward and came even with the first door. He put his ear against it, but did not enter. Next he leaned over towards the door across the hall, but he didn't enter that room either. Harry then stepped forward again, apparently knowing exactly where his prey was hiding. As he burst through the door, he saw that it was a nursery, filled top to bottom with plush tiny baby things. Harry could see a mobile above the crib that depicted flying Snitches and broomsticks, and saw a stuffed owl placed in the cot much like Muggle parents would place a stuffed teddy bear. Harry's eyes were ultimately drawn to the lovely red-haired woman huddled over against the wall across the room. The nursery was in utter disarray; it was quite evident that she had torn through it looking for a safe escape route for her and her small child. She was holding both her wand and her infant son, but even though she seemed absolutely petrified when she saw what had to be her worst fear entering through the doorway, she then placed the baby back in his crib and stood obstinately in front of him - shielding him from view.

She had been whispering something almost soundlessly under her breath, but she broke off abruptly as soon as she glanced tearfully up into his face. Suddenly, she screamed in a pleading, terrified voice, "Not Harry! Not Harry! Please - I'll do anything - "

Harry heard the cold voice reply from his own mouth, "Stand aside. Stand aside, girl... stand aside, now...."

Again Lily Potter begged for the safety of her only child. "Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead - " Once again Harry felt his consciousness attempt to draw away as he tried vainly to sever his connection with Voldemort's mind - he couldn't watch his mother's death -- he just couldn't... No matter what he did, though, the link remained stubbornly unbroken and Harry was unable to avoid the ghastly scene taking place right before his eyes.

"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy...." Lily continued to cry frantically. But Harry then saw the long-fingered white hand raising his wand on her anyway. Harry heard himself say the words that had already doomed his father out of existence, and then heard the high-pitched cackle that reverberated nightmarishly off the walls of the tiny room. Harry watched helplessly as his mother's body began to crumple to the softly carpeted nursery room floor, her brilliant green eyes empty and completely devoid of life. Harry's heart felt as if it was literally ripping in two - how could he have done this -- he felt as though he had just murdered his own parents.

The savage scene was now continuing on though Harry had thought it was over, this was as far as he'd ever remembered before, but this was Voldemort's memory and not his own. Harry began to turn towards the baby still sitting in the cot behind the body of his mother. He raised his wand once more and bellowed, "Avada Kedavra!" as a green light flew out of his wand and hit the infant directly in the face. In the blink of an eye, the curse that had struck down countless witches and wizards in the past with uncompromising certainty knocked the baby unconscious as his small body glowed vividly green within his crib. Voldemort was already laughing triumphantly when it happened. Without warning, the same green light of the curse that had hit the tiny form of the infant Harry Potter then began to grow in strength and intensity as it rebounded and flew straight back at him. Voldemort's cackle turned instantly into an earsplitting screech as Harry felt an all-encompassing pain flood his entire body. For the space of a moment Harry felt himself dying, but the sensation of his spirit being ripped from his body at last broke the connection that had so irrevocably linked his mind with Voldemort's, and Harry's consciousness was then able to break away and flee....

Harry could now feel himself retreating away from the horrific images in Voldemort's mind, and he shrank back into a shocked numbness as he tried to come to terms with what he'd just seen. Harry knew his consciousness had returned to his own mind again, but he could feel the red-eyed menace there as well, angrily biding his time and lying in wait. After a certain amount of time has passed - Harry had no idea how long it had actually been - his mind once more began its long journey towards the surface. Harry's scar was prickling smartly yet again, the pain flowing through him as if he were attached to a live wire. The next thing that he became aware of was the sound of water dripping nearby, and for one terrifying second he thought he was back amongst the trickling darkness of the cave once more. As Harry heard the splash of water again, he couldn't help gasping out loud as he flinched reflexively away from the noise.

"Shhhh, Harry. You're safe now - everything's going to be all right," said a barely audible voice. Harry's bloodshot eyes finally fluttered open to see a familiar figure bending next to him over a large ceramic basin on his bedside table. Ginny was dipping a small towel into the basin and as she wrung it out she peered deeply into Harry's face - she looked more worried than he had ever seen her. Harry glanced down and noticed for the first time that his whole body was soaked in sweat. His eyes also felt tight and raw and as Harry began to realize that his face was wet not only from sweat but from tears as well, he hastily made to look away from her.

"Please don't turn away, Harry. I only want to help," Ginny whispered imploringly as she touched the damp towel to the side of his face. The poison had weakened him to such a vast extent that he honestly didn't have the strength to argue, and Harry then resignedly closed his eyes again as she laid the soothing cloth gently onto his aching forehead. As Ginny sat down next to him on the bed, Harry became conscious of the fact that the bandages were no longer wrapped around his chest and that he was able to breathe a great deal easier than before - he fleetingly wondered just how long he'd been lying in this bed.

"There, is that any better?" Ginny asked softly, as he slowly opened his eyes once more. Harry then took one look at her, and for some terrible reason he was reminded so strongly of the image of his mother dying on his nursery room floor that he gaped wide-eyed at her, stunned into a stricken silence. Harry began to feel the full horror of what he had witnessed in Voldemort's mind with an unbearable suddenness and Ginny, seeing the look on his face, flung both arms around him and pulled him tightly to her. Harry couldn't help but remain totally speechless as his mind replayed the same unspeakable images over and over again, and he closed his stinging eyes in an attempt to shut them out. As soon as he did, he realized that he could see the creeping menace still hovering in a dark corner of his own mind. The creature was continuing to leer threateningly at him from within the recesses of his consciousness, and disturbingly, Harry then felt his awareness being torn away again as he found himself being gripped mercilessly in the throes of Voldemort's Veritaserum Poison once more.

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The next sensation that Harry became aware of was the odd and frightening feeling of falling blindly through open space as the antidote and the poison in his system battled it out for supremacy over his mind. Harry's emotions became horribly erratic as he continued to fall - he felt strange surges of rage and hatred, followed closely by irrational feelings of both fear and dread. He then remembered the memories he had unintentionally extracted from Voldemort's mind, and his heart filled with such an overpowering sense of sadness that he wasn't really sure if he could survive much more. Eventually, the sensation of falling through space ceased, and Harry peered about through the darkness. There he is, Harry thought, as he spied the all too familiar shadow nearby. Harry's emotions continued to swing from one wild extreme to the other, but then his thoughts began to focus only upon the evil being that had penetrated into the furthest reaches of his consciousness. Harry pictured the barrier that he had once been able to maintain against Voldemort's external attacks, and he tried fruitlessly to raise it once more. After several more tries, Harry came to an abrupt halt as his scar burst open agonizingly - the skulking menace was smiling now - and Harry heard screaming, though he had no idea where it was coming from.

Without warning, Harry's thoughts were immediately thrown into utter chaos. He was running - flying full tilt through the Department of Mysteries as Dudley's gang chased him through a black circular room with doors all around the perimeter. Aunt Marge was smirking nastily as a huge black dragon reared in front of him breathing fire. Harry ran up to Ginny who was lying on the cold slimy floor of the Chamber of Secrets as Death Eaters Apparated nearby encircling both of them. Cornelius Fudge and the members of the Wizengamot were glaring down at Harry as Sirius fell through the tattered black veil behind him. Buckbeak was being beheaded as Kreacher laughed merrily from the window of Hagrid's hut. Snape was furiously throwing him from his office and into the lake - Harry sank like a stone while a group of ugly merpeople leered at him menacingly. Umbridge was making him cut into the back of his own hand with her quill as a hundred dementors began to soar eerily towards him through her open office window. The huge green basilisk was chasing him into the cupboard under the stairs. Harry was bound by ropes to the tombstone of Voldemort's father - or was it chains as he lay upon an altar - as Voldemort killed each member of the Weasley family in turn. Every thought, every terrible memory or fear Harry had ever experienced, ripped through him sadistically like a succession of sharp needles picking viciously away at his sanity.

Harry felt trapped and claustrophobic again as he woke in an acutely alarmed and panicked state. He was screaming and flailing about insanely as he heard someone else yell in a frightened voice.

"Help me! I can't hold him by myself - he's going to fall!" Harry's eyes snapped open. Ginny was laying across his chest trying to restrain him as Ron and Hermione ran up to them. Hermione helped Ginny hold Harry down while Ron reached around his shoulders and moved him away from the edge of the bed. Harry looked around and realized that he was surrounded by friends instead of enemies, and he instantly fell quiet and still once more, though his heart was hammering madly against his chest and he was continuing to breathe exceptionally fast. After several moments, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione evidently decided that it was safe to relinquish their hold on him, and they all stepped back from the bed again, white-faced and exhausted.

The door on the other side of the room then burst open and Dumbledore came striding purposefully towards him, his ancient face a picture of worn anxiety. Harry lay there completely spent, his panic having drained him of the small amount of strength he had managed to regain. Harry tried to speak - he had so many questions - but he instead found that his eyelids were growing increasingly heavy again and he couldn't seem to hold them open anymore. Harry lay there not quite asleep but not awake either as everyone began to speak in quietly apprehensive voices.

"What's happened? Did he wake?" asked Dumbledore.

"He woke up all at once, Professor. We've heard him mumbling in his sleep off and on this whole time - sometimes we can understand him and sometimes we can't - but he woke up just now screaming like he was being attacked!" Ginny answered, in a shaken voice.

"It is very likely that he was," Dumbledore said grimly.

"Sir, Harry's been like this for over a week. He is going to be able to pull out of this at some point, isn't he?" Hermione's worried voice entered the conversation.

"I honestly do not know. He is obviously fighting it as hard as he can. Professor Snape has informed me that the poison that Voldemort used on Harry is known for its ability to incapacitate its victims both mentally and psychologically, as well as physically. I am afraid that Harry is still in a great deal of danger, and the only other thing that might help him could just as easily kill him outright," Dumbledore admitted sadly.

There was a rather extended silence and then...

"What is it?" Ron finally asked, sounding afraid. "What is it that might help?"

"We could give Harry another dose of the antidote," Dumbledore answered. "But that too could result in his death."

"I don't understand, Professor, how could an antidote cause Harry to die?" Hermione asked, sounding upset.

"This particular antidote consists largely of a highly refined version of the Draught of Protection mixed with a smaller portion of phoenix tears, but it also contains trace amounts of dragon's blood as well," Dumbledore explained bleakly. "All of those substances have unique restorative properties, but dragon's blood can only be used safely in very limited quantities. Since Harry has already ingested a full dose, the consequences of taking in more could prove to be fatal." Suddenly the door on the other side of the room creaked open, and Dumbledore solemnly greeted the person who was coming through it.

"What is Potter's current status, Headmaster?" Snape's voice asked emotionlessly.

"There has been no visible improvement. Harry has been almost entirely unresponsive and incoherent ever since the antidote was administered." Dumbledore then gave a significant pause. "You stated earlier that Harry has been mumbling in his sleep, Miss Weasley. What has he said that you have been able to understand?" There was an even longer pause after that - as if Ginny was exceedingly reluctant to give that information. Eventually though, she spoke in a halting voice.

"There's been a few times that Harry's whispered what sounded like the word 'cave,' and once as he was beginning to come to he jerked away from the sound of water dripping into this basin. I don't know where he was, Professor, but I'm fairly certain that you're right about Voldemort attacking him. I don't know how he's doing it, but I think Voldemort's continuing to strike out at Harry, continuing to hurt him, even now." Abruptly, there was the sound of frantic weeping close by, and Harry could then hear Ron's voice.

"It's going to be okay, Hermione."

"Why can't that monster just leave him alone, Professor?" Ginny then asked Dumbledore distraughtly, sounding close to tears herself. "He's done enough damage as it is." It wasn't the headmaster who answered her, however. Instead, Harry heard the waspish tones of Severus Snape.

"The poison is killing him," he said with a harsh bluntness. "Something has to be done."

"But Professor Dumbledore just told us that giving Harry more antidote might be fatal," Ginny argued.

"There is no other viable alternative; he must be given another dose," Snape responded, stonily. "Unfortunately, Potter's death is something that none of us can afford."

"The only thing you care about is that damn prophecy," Ginny cried angrily. "You don't care about Harry at all!"

"How I feel about him is entirely beside the point," Snape shot back at her. "The fact of the matter is if we do nothing, Potter will most definitely die - and if he dies, all of our hopes die with him."

At this, Harry struggled his way to full consciousness once more and gradually opened his eyes. Everyone was standing in a semi-circle at the foot of his bed. Ginny was glaring at Snape with furious tears in her eyes. Ron was looking tremendously stressed as he held onto an openly sobbing Hermione. Snape appeared as forbidding as usual, but Harry also thought that he could detect a flicker of something almost indecipherable behind his dark eyes. Dumbledore, however, was peering directly into Harry's face - he was the only one who had noticed that Harry was once again awake. Silently, Dumbledore reached into his midnight blue robes and extracted a vial filled with another dose of the reddish-pink solution. Harry nodded at him mutely, and before any other objections could be raised Harry had swallowed the vial's contents. It was only after this that Ginny, Ron, and Hermione realized what Harry had done. He briefly registered the terrified looks on their faces as the antidote again flooded his system, but they grew more and more remote as Harry's mind began to fall back towards the blackness. As his consciousness floated away Harry felt as though he was on the edge of a great precipice, one that he feared deep down he would never return from. He felt this nagging feeling that he had something important to do, but his mind was like a wayward kite slipping out of his grasp and Harry now found that he could do nothing more than succumb to the inevitable.