Harry Potter and the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE SILVER LINING

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Harry remained unconscious for the next seven days, and oddly, there was only one thing that he would later recall about that particular period of time. At one point the extra antidote he had been given finally succeeded in expunging every last drop of the Veritaserum Poison from his system, and as soon as this realization hit him, Harry instantly raised the Occlumency barrier in his mind again. Afterwards, Harry had painstakingly searched his consciousness for the red-eyed evil that had continually tormented him and was grateful to find absolutely no trace of it - at long last, Voldemort had gone. Harry then began to sink down into darkness once more, but this time as he drifted off Harry was certain that he would indeed find his way back to the light again.

Though he had no memory of it, Harry would ultimately discover that he had spent that week in a state of extreme ill health and delirium. Harry's body temperature had shot up so unexpectedly and so quickly that Madam Pomfrey had almost fainted when she realized how high it was. Dumbledore had insisted that she allow the fever to run its course, however, and the nurse had then spent a great deal of time hovering over her patient; there was really nothing that she or anyone else could now do. One of the worst results of this fever was the effect it had on Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. All three of them had been spending every waking moment (as well as a few sleeping moments) at Harry's bedside, watching over him nervously as his body gradually burned away the deadly poison it was still inundated with. Harry had remained nearly comatose as he had gone alternately from drenching sweats that saturated his bedclothes to violent shivering that literally caused his teeth to chatter as the fever would begin to break only to rise again, just as high as before.

Eventually, though, Harry's fever broke for the last time, and several hours later he had regained consciousness again. As soon as Ginny, Ron, and Hermione saw that he was not only awake but also lucid and genuinely aware of his surroundings, all three of them were quite noticeably relieved - Ginny and Hermione both hugged him very warmly (though Ginny had held on a bit longer than Hermione had), and Ron was suddenly smiling more widely than he had in weeks. By this time, Harry himself was in a state of complete emotional numbness. Everything seemed rather surreal as he continued to lay there in the Room of Requirement while Madam Pomfrey bustled around him with a seemingly endless supply of pumpkin juice and Replenishing Draughts meant to ward off any last vestiges of dehydration.

Inevitably, while Harry had been fighting for his life, the rest of the world had gone on without him. The Daily Prophet had continued to be delivered every morning in the Great Hall, students other than Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had continued to attend class, and the sun had continued to rise and set just like it always had. Many other things, however, had changed. News reports of Death Eater sightings had increased with an alarming frequency during this period, and the entire Wizarding world was now pervaded by an even greater sense of fear and trepidation than it had been previously. Due to this, security at Hogwarts became tighter than at any time in Harry's memory. Dumbledore had announced that students must always be accompanied by a teacher any time they needed to venture out onto the grounds, and like Harry's second year, the professors were charged with taking the students to and from their other lessons, as well. Every night before bed, the Head of each House also began searching every single dormitory for signs of possible intruders, and the castle itself was being locked down by Mr. Filch far before darkness fell each evening.

A short time after Harry had been secured in the Room of Requirement, Dumbledore had disclosed a specifically generalized account of the events surrounding his abduction. The headmaster had omitted a few crucial details, however - the most important being Harry's current whereabouts and what condition he was truly in. O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s had been scheduled to begin on that following Monday but had been postponed indefinitely in light of what had happened. Final exams had also been cancelled, and while this may have been a relief to many of the students, it also left them with little else to do but worry about what Voldemort and the Death Eaters were presently up to. Anxiety was running especially high among the students and many began sending owls home on a regular basis, apparently fearful about the escalating situation. Apprehensive about the safety of their children, several parents had then come to the school wanting to take their children home early, and Dumbledore had quietly complied with their wishes. By the last day of the term many of the dormitories were half-empty, giving the school a slightly ominous feel, and the students that had stayed behind were beginning to eagerly anticipate the arrival of the Hogwarts Express.

One week prior to this, a bedridden Harry Potter was continuing to recover in secret within the Room of Requirement. Even though his body was poison-free for the first time in two weeks, Harry was still too weak to get out of bed on his own and he appeared far paler and thinner than he normally did. Those weeks had taken a visible toll on Ginny, Ron, and Hermione as well, and feeling concerned, the headmaster had then stepped in. With both Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey standing by, Professor Dumbledore had insisted that each of them return to their dormitories for some much needed rest. Every one of them had naturally balked at this, adamantly refusing to leave Harry, but Dumbledore wouldn't take no for an answer this time. In the end, after Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had been reassured repeatedly that Harry would never be left unattended, the three of them had reluctantly acquiesced and Professor McGonagall had then led them back to Gryffindor tower.

True to his word, Dumbledore had made certain that Harry had someone with him at all times, and Harry would awaken to find either Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, or Hagrid with him if Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were absent. A couple of days later on one such occasion, Harry saw Mad-Eye Moody stationed next to the door across the room in a hard-backed wooden chair. As Harry had begun to stir, Moody had then turned towards him as he began to speak in his gravelly-sounding voice.

"How're you feeling, laddie?" Moody asked, not unkindly.

"I've been better," Harry croaked dully, as he struggled his way into a seated position.

"There was a house-elf that came by earlier to see you. He left enough food to feed you for the better part of a year, I think," Moody said, as he gave a quick mirthless laugh.

"Was it Dobby?" Harry asked hoarsely.

"Yeah, that'd be the one. Never seen an elf dressed like that before - I wouldn't have let him in except the headmaster had cleared him with me previously," Moody said with a faint smirk as he shook his head from side to side. After a while Moody then slowly got to his feet and began to retrieve something from the top of a nearby table. As he clunked over to the bed, Harry could see its contents sloshing around from within a small glass bowl and as Moody tapped it with his wand, a pleasantly rich smell began to fill the room. "It's soup," Moody said, as he passed him the now steaming bowl. "You need to eat something. It's time you started getting your strength back." After a few meager spoonfuls, Harry noticed that Moody's magical eye was swiveling about in every direction as usual, and he was suddenly reminded of something that had happened a couple of months before.

"Professor," Harry began. "Down in the dungeons that time - when you were teaching Potions - you told me to 'be careful.' Was there anything else that you had wanted to tell me that night?" At this, Moody's magical eye stopped revolving around and focused on Harry's face. After gazing at him fixedly for a moment, Moody answered him.

"Well, I was actually thinking about you and that Invisibility Cloak of yours, Potter. After I saw you and Ginny Weasley out on the grounds that night, I figured that you might be thinking with your heart rather than your head and that can sometimes be a liability. You're a bit like your parents that way, come to think of it." Harry immediately dropped his spoon, and it clattered somewhat loudly against the side of the bowl.

"You did see us that night, then," Harry exclaimed, feeling taken aback. Moody nodded. "Why didn't you..."

"Why didn't I haul you both in and assign detentions?" Moody finished for him.

"Well, yeah," Harry said.

"Now I know it may not seem possible to you, but I was young once, too, Potter. Besides, I still made sure that the two of you got back safely," Moody said, as he pointed at his electric blue eye, his pitted and scarred face lifting into a grin. Harry goggled at him. "Look, I happen to know that your dad got into every kind of trouble with that cloak of his, and I didn't want you to do the same - any more than you already have, anyway. Things have gotten way too dangerous for that, I'm afraid."

"I know," answered Harry, quietly. Moody watched Harry for a little while longer and upon seeing that he wasn't going to be able to eat anything else, took the glass bowl and made it disappear. As Harry laid down again, Moody stumbled back over to his chair by the door. Harry thought about what Moody had just said as he lay there wearily looking up at the dark ceiling, and he couldn't help wondering where Voldemort was at this precise moment. After the poison had been purged from his system, Harry had kept his Occlumency barrier up continuously, intentionally blocking any further attempts that Voldemort might see fit to make on his mind. Harry wasn't honestly sure that he could live through another mental assault like the one he had just endured, so he had spent all of his time and energy on reinforcing that barrier - making it as strong and inaccessible as he possibly could. Harry remembered the cold iciness of those red eyes leering at him through the darkness, and he shuttered involuntarily as he tried to push that chilling image from his mind. Later, though, as Harry began to fall asleep, the disturbing memories from over the past fortnight stubbornly continued to resurface, and he slept fitfully as his slumbering mind distorted and twisted those images from dreams into nightmares.

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Harry awoke extremely abruptly and found himself sitting bolt upright in his bed. In his dreams Harry had been trapped in that horribly foul cave again, and he was still feeling as shaken as he had while there. Harry heard the rustle of a cloak to his left, and he nearly toppled out of bed as he turned very quickly in that direction. Albus Dumbledore was making his way towards Harry just then, his long silvery hair and beard gleaming even in the relative darkness of the room. Dumbledore was gazing at Harry with a carefully serene expression on his face, but his blue eyes were clearly troubled behind the crooked nose and half-moon glasses.

"Can I get you anything, Harry?" the headmaster asked him.

"No... No, I'm all right," he answered, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. Harry had attempted unsuccessfully to push everything that had just happened to the back of his mind, but he was beginning to realize that this tactic wasn't working all that well - the memories simply came back as fairly explicit and graphic nightmares. After a moment, Harry looked up to find that Dumbledore was continuing to watch him closely. Unlike the last time Voldemort had gotten a hold of him, Dumbledore had not asked Harry anything about the terrifying events of that night. Initially, Harry had been relieved by this, but now he felt somewhat bewildered by it. Didn't Dumbledore want to know?

"Sir, I need to ask you something," Harry began.

"Of course."

"Why haven't you... I mean, why didn't... Don't you want to know about... " Harry stammered and then trailed off.

"Why haven't I asked you about what happened that night," Dumbledore supplied, at last.

"Yes."

"Well, there are many reasons, Harry, the most important of which being that you were much too ill to give me that information when you first arrived," Dumbledore began gravely, as he sat down at the foot of Harry's bed. "Also, after Professor Snape was able to analyze the blood sample that he took from you, we realized that we had precious little time to attempt an antidote. Once we had determined exactly what you had been poisoned with, I had a fairly good idea of what had happened to you and why. Our priority was to save you, and I was certain that interrogating you at that time would serve no useful purpose."

Harry nodded. He hadn't had the chance to fully assimilate this yet, and he was continuing to feel tremendously unsettled by it - it was as if it had happened to someone other than him. Nevertheless, Harry knew what he needed to do, though he dreaded it with every fiber of his being. "I have to tell you something, Professor. You're not going to like it, either."

"By all means continue, Harry," Dumbledore prompted. Harry took a deep breath.

"Voldemort knows about the prophecy now. He made me recite every word of it. Bellatrix Lestrange even wrote it down as I said it." Distantly, Harry was astonished at how calm and composed those words had just sounded, especially as he was feeling quite the reverse. "I'm sorry," Harry finished heavily in a guilty whisper. For a while neither of them spoke or looked at each other, and the silence continued to spiral awkwardly for several more minutes. Finally, feeling increasingly edgy, Harry then chanced a quick glance in his headmaster's direction.

Unsurprisingly, Dumbledore's features were completely unreadable, and Harry began to wonder if he was angry, fearful, or simply disappointed. Without looking at Harry, Dumbledore then got up and walked across the room, muttering something under his breath. At once, a large picture window appeared in the center of one wall, showing the same view as Dumbledore had from his own office many floors away. When the headmaster turned around again, he had a wistful-looking smile upon his deeply-lined face.

"This room is really rather extraordinary, you know," he said, focusing on the window once more. Harry gawped at him, how could he possibly be taking this in stride? But after staring out the window for a time, Dumbledore then turned and came towards Harry again. As he sat down on the bed next to him, Dumbledore reached up and gripped his shoulder gently. "It is I who should apologize, Harry. I had trusted that you were safe here, that our security precautions were sufficient enough to protect you, but I was obviously mistaken." Here Dumbledore hesitated and this time when he gazed into Harry's eyes, his face was replete with the deepest sadness and regret. "I was afraid that we had truly lost you this time.... We very nearly did. The fact that you have survived yet again is a testament to your own courage and strength of mind."

Harry glanced away from Dumbledore and peered out the newly created window, the last thing he had expected from his headmaster was an apology. After a moment, however, Harry let his eyes genuinely focus upon what he was seeing outside. Everything was almost deceptively peaceful. The sun was shining warmly out on the grounds, the sky was blue and cloudless, the mountains vast and unconquerable; it looked like a perfectly beautiful June day, but Harry knew better. He knew that darkness was creeping ever closer to that world - that evil would prevail if given the proper opportunity. Harry was still plagued by doubt. Would he be able to stop it in time? Dumbledore was subtly clearing his throat.

"As I mentioned earlier, Harry, I have already been able to surmise some of what has happened to you, and the fact that Voldemort now knows the full contents of the prophecy, while disconcerting, is not entirely unexpected - we will deal with that as need be. One thing that does interest me, however, is how you managed to escape - particularly after being so severely poisoned and sustaining the kind of injuries that you did," Dumbledore said, pausing significantly. Harry looked away from the window and examined his hands, he was relieved to see that they weren't shaking for once.

"I didn't actually manage to escape on my own, Professor. Peter Pettigrew saved me," Harry admitted slowly. After a long moment, he glimpsed up into Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore was continuing to observe him patiently and after heaving a weighty sigh, Harry was eventually able to go on. "I don't understand why he did it. One moment he was standing alongside the cauldron, and the next he was pushing me off the altar and shoving the Portkey towards my face."

"Altar?" Dumbledore exclaimed sharply, sounding alarmed. "But that sounds as if..." He trailed off, and Harry fell totally quiet - he hadn't honestly intended to mention that. After a slightly oppressive silence, Dumbledore asked another question, his tone purposely tranquil once more. "So Pettigrew was the one tending the potion?"

"Yes, sir. He had just poured my blood into the mixture. It was supposed to change it somehow - make Voldemort close to immortal," Harry responded.

"And did Voldemort then take this potion?" Dumbledore inquired.

"I'm not sure. I think that Pettigrew dumped the cauldron into the fire right before he sent me back, but everything happened so fast..." Harry left off, thinking hard. Most of the events of that night seemed a bit fuzzy as he looked back on them. Then he said more to himself than to his headmaster, "Pettigrew's dead, though, Voldemort killed him not long after that." Harry had surprised himself with that last statement. He had said it aloud just as the realization of it had dawned in his mind, but he knew beyond question that it was the truth - some part of him had known since the moment it had happened.

Suddenly, several things occurred to Harry all at once. He knew that Peter Pettigrew was guilty of the worst kind of treachery and cowardice. Peter Pettigrew was the one who had betrayed Harry's parents and had then framed Sirius for his own crimes. Peter Pettigrew had killed Cedric Diggory without so much as batting an eye and had then tied Harry to that horrible tombstone, likely knowing full well what Voldemort was planning to do to him. Just recently, Peter Pettigrew had even hidden in Harry's dormitory for weeks on end waiting for the chance to transport him back to his master, back to the terror and probable death that awaited Harry there. Why then did Pettigrew change his mind? Why was he ultimately willing to risk his own life just as Harry's had nearly ended? Harry couldn't understand this, it made absolutely no sense to him. Some of the confusion Harry was feeling must have shown itself in his face, because Dumbledore seemed to know precisely what he was thinking.

"You seem puzzled, Harry, but let me ask you a question. Do you remember what you and I discussed at the end of your third year?" Harry frowned, so much had changed in his life since then that it was difficult to keep track of it sometimes.

"My third year?" Harry repeated.

"Yes. As I recall, you were concerned about sparing Pettigrew's life back in the Shrieking Shack. You thought you had made a mistake. Do you remember what I told you when you confided these things to me?" Dumbledore continued. Harry tried to think back to what had happened three years before. Finally, the memory clicked into place.

"You told me that I might one day be very glad that I saved his life," Harry answered.

"I did."

"So you think that Pettigrew was just trying to return the favor or something?" Harry asked dubiously.

"Harry, there are certain kinds of magic that cannot ever be undone - not by time, or space, or by any other means. Like I told you then, when one wizard saves another wizard's life, a unique and unbreakable bond is then formed between them - regardless of how they may feel about one another. This creates a binding magical contract, and the terms of that contract must be strictly adhered to. Peter Pettigrew, whilst he could hardly be considered to be an honorable man, was still going to be forced to uphold his end of the bargain - and I for one am extremely grateful that that particular night was the time he chose to do so."

Harry couldn't help staring at his headmaster now, at an utter and complete loss for words. Harry was beginning to remember Dumbledore telling him something about all of that when he was thirteen, but he had somehow forgotten - deep down he had been afraid to really believe it. Harry started to realize that the world of magic was genuinely beyond what he had always thought of it as being - the pure scope of it was so much larger. Magic was bigger than a prophecy, bigger than Dumbledore or Voldemort or any other witch or wizard who had ever lived. Magic had always been and would always be and Harry, despite everything he'd just been through, found that to be an especially comforting thought.

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As the days passed, Harry gradually became well enough to get out of bed again. He had initially been rather shaky and unsteady, but eventually he began to feel stronger, and Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were starting to look less and less worried as they continued to monitor his progress. By the time the last day of the term had arrived, Harry was beginning to feel closer to normal again - almost. Things had been so stressful over the past twelve months that it felt more like it had been two years instead of one, and Harry found himself thinking about the future - both the distant and the not so distant. The Leaving Feast was getting ready to start within the hour, and his friends had agreed to stay with him, whether he decided to actually attend the feast or not.

Harry was still deliberating if he should go. He had attended the feast up until last year when he had specifically avoided it, too full of the loss of Sirius to truly feel up to it. Dumbledore always made a point to end the year with some wise parting words, and this was usually the last meal everyone would share together before the summer holiday. Under ordinary circumstances, the House Cup was also awarded to the House with the most points, but as many students had left Hogwarts early this year, Harry doubted that anyone cared much about points or House Cups anymore - he knew that he didn't.

Finally, though, when it was only a half hour away, Harry decided that he might as well attend. His friends had deprived themselves of so much just to be with him recently that Harry felt that going to the Leaving Feast was the least that he could do. As Harry entered the Great Hall with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione a few moments later, a great hush fell over the enormous room. Professor McGonagall had escorted them there as part of the new safety measures, and her steps echoed somewhat loudly on the ancient flagged stone floor as she made her way up to the front. As the four of them sat at the end of the Gryffindor table, everyone's eyes were upon Harry. The tables were much emptier than usual since so many had gone home, but Harry noticed that most of the members of his own House had stayed, including Neville, Dean, and Seamus. All three of them were staring at Harry as well, but as he met their eyes, each of them then gave him a brief but supportive grin. Most of the other students, however, were not nearly so discreet. Many were gawking openly at Harry as if he had just been resurrected from the dead, and Harry couldn't help feeling slightly unnerved by it.

"If I may have your attention, please," Dumbledore began, and everyone turned their heads to the front, "I beg your patience for a few final words. It is the end of another year, and this one has been fairly eventful. Times have changed, as they often do, and I wish to leave you with something encouraging to hang on to. Whilst I know that many of you have suffered grave tragedy over these past few months, most of you have made it through with the help of your friends. Though things will likely grow increasingly more difficult, your loyalty to each other during these tough times is an example to the rest of the Wizarding world - you have already shown that you can be a light to one another even in the most profound darkness. As each of you now goes back to your families, I want you to remember to keep those strong bonds of friendship and unity and carry them home with you." Dumbledore then glanced in Harry's direction. "Some of you continue to astound me with your ability to surmount even the most unbelievable odds, and I want you to know that as long as this school exists, you will have a place to call home. This school and everyone in it is dedicated to your futures, and you shall never have to face that future alone whilst we are here. I know that every one of you will continue to make a positive difference in this world - for each step taken in the right direction, no matter how small, is still progress. I ask you to look after yourselves and one another to return safely to us next September - but before then I wish for you to simply enjoy this one last feast together."

As Dumbledore took his seat and the feast appeared upon the tables, everyone in the dining hall then gave some distinctly subdued applause, and Harry peered about again. The Slytherin table was practically empty, it seemed that they had taken thorough advantage of everyone's heightened fear and had left early - Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle among them. The Gryffindor table was by far the fullest, though Harry also noticed that the majority of the former members of the D.A. from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had stayed as well. Things became a little less awkward as everyone began to eat, but Harry couldn't ignore the fact that many of the students were continuing to sneak surreptitious looks at him throughout dinner. Harry remained silent as those nearest to him, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione spoke in more muted voices than was customary. He could tell by their anxious tones that they were dying to ask him about the specifics of what had happened, but he figured that Dumbledore had forbidden them to say anything. Harry had been picking at his mostly full dinner plate for the past five minutes when Ginny gently nudged him in the side.

"Are you not going to be able to eat anything, Harry?" she asked softly. Harry shrugged.

"Don't worry about everyone, mate," Ron put in, as he glanced around the Hall. "They'll come around. They're just a bit shocked to see you up and about."

"Shocked?" Harry asked, feeling bewildered to a certain degree. "What exactly did Dumbledore tell everybody, anyway?"

"Well," Hermione began tentatively. "He explained that you were rather ill..."

"He told them that a Death Eater kidnapped you out of your dormitory, Harry," Ginny interrupted, tired of everyone beating around the bush. "He told them that Voldemort poisoned you. I'd say that they know quite enough about it already."

"So they thought I was going to die, then," Harry concluded.

"Yeah, they probably did," Ron responded with a grimace.

"They were almost right, as well," Hermione whispered sadly, and Harry glanced over at her. This statement had the effect of causing the three of them to appear far more pallid than they had a just a moment before.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up," Harry said, sighing. Ginny had abruptly become extremely quiet. Ron and Hermione, too, seemed to be feeling exceptionally uncomfortable, and Harry supposed this whole thing had frightened them even more than he had realized. The four of them then lapsed into silence as they all stared down at their plates, not one of them very hungry anymore.

Unexpectedly somebody brushed by him, and Harry glimpsed up to see that a number of people were beginning to gather round their end of the table. Neville, Seamus, Dean, Katie Bell, Duncan Morey, and Colin and Dennis Creevey had come to stand directly behind Harry and Ginny, and as he glanced around he saw that Luna Lovegood, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Justin Finch-Fletchley were ranged on the other side of the table behind Ron and Hermione. As Harry looked up into their faces inquiringly, Neville began to speak.

"Listen Harry, we realize that you've just been through an ordeal and everything, but we wanted you to know that as far as we're concerned what we agreed to last year goes for now on, too." There were several murmurs of assent to this, and everyone began to smile at Harry reassuringly.

"That's right," Ernie reiterated. "You taught us what we really needed to know even when no one else was willing to, Potter. That's not something that we intend to forget any time soon."

"Dennis told me about the D.A.," Duncan spoke up, somewhat bashfully. "It sounded incredible."

"It was," Dean and Seamus exclaimed at the same time.

"Absolutely," Katie agreed. "But the important thing is that even as tough as this year has been, you've still managed to pull through - just like always."

"Yeah, and if you ever need anything - anything at all - you just send us an owl, okay Harry," Colin Creevey said. "You can depend on us to do whatever we can." Everyone began to nod enthusiastically and Harry noticed that Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had begun to lose their solemn expressions and were starting to grin at him just like everybody else. Harry didn't know how to respond to this, but after a moment he finally managed a slightly flustered thank you. Harry stared at them as they each returned to their seats; he'd never expected such an amazing outpouring of support like this. Things were suddenly feeling much more relaxed and comfortable to Harry again, and as Ginny reached over and grasped his hand under the table, dinner went a great deal smoother from then on.