Family

Family

Chapter Fourteen
The Fidelius Charm

Harry walked a few steps behind Ginny, who kept her head bowed as they walked down the stairs from Gryffindor Tower a while later. She traced her steps painstakingly slowly, it seemed to Harry, as though she was too weak to move.

He wanted to say something—anything—to perhaps comfort her. He didn't know what she was feeling physically—he sincerely hoped it wasn't bad—but what she was feeling in her heart was probably worse.

Heck, of course it was worse. How must it feel to be anticipating dea—

Harry shook his head, not letting it finish the word. How could he even think that?

"Harry?" Ginny suddenly said.

"Hmm?"

Ginny didn't look up as she spoke. "What did you—what did you dream about last night?"

"Oh." Harry buried his hands in his pockets uneasily. "I...well, I dreamed about Dad and Snape."

Ginny whirled around in surprise. "Snape?"

Harry nodded. "They met...right outside Dumbledore's office. Where we're going," he added. "Coincidence, huh?"

"I didn't know your dad and Snape were friends in Hogwarts," she said.

"Oh, no they weren't," Harry quickly said, smiling. "Not at all. But they were in the same year."

Ginny smiled back. "I can sort of see why Snape hates you so much."

Harry chuckled. "Oh, yeah."

They were silent again as they resumed descending the steps. When they reached the landing, Harry blurted out, "What did you dream about?"

Ginny didn't look up at him. She fixed her gaze at something far-off, and from her side Harry could see that she had a sad smile on her face.

"It was your mum talking to you," she finally told him.

Harry stopped in his tracks and felt his heart skip a beat.

"Mum?" he gasped.

Ginny stopped as well, and faced him. For a fraction of a second, she looked startled at the sudden change on Harry's features. Harry waited for her to speak, not knowing that to Ginny, his eyes were filled with sad yearning.

"You were crying," Ginny said quietly, still with a faraway look. "So your mum picked you up...and rocked you to sleep as she sang." She smiled wistfully. "She had a very beautiful voice, Harry."

Harry wasn't able to say anything.

"She said your father was in Hogwarts to talk to Dumbledore about something...she said everything's going to be all right. Then when you fell asleep...she just looked at you, and finally cried."

How must that have felt, sleeping fitfully, knowing that your mother was watching you, even though inside, she was hurting? Harry tried to remember, but he couldn't. He felt a gaping sadness inside himself. It was the one thing he'd love to see, but even his dreams couldn't grant him that.

Ginny looked at him questioningly. "Everything went on well with your dad, didn't it?"

Harry snapped out of his trance. "Yes," he fibbed. "I mean...aside from the fact that Snape was there."

Ginny smiled again, that wistful smile. "There was still no talk of the counter-curse, huh?"

Of all the questions she had to ask, this was one he didn't want to answer. "No," he replied quietly.

Ginny merely nodded. Then, to Harry's surprise, she took his hand. Her touch was weak, but it was there, and somehow it made him feel better.

"Come on," she simply said.

Harry let her lead him the rest of the way.

Dumbledore was anticipating Harry as well, it seemed. He didn't comment when Harry entered with Ginny, the two of them still holding hands. Ginny finally noticed, and gave him an embarrassed grin as she released his hand.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" she asked the Headmaster.

Dumbledore merely gave them a curt nod. "And I assume you understand why I sent for you?"

"Yes," said Ginny. "You wanted to ask me about how I'm coping up with the curse."

Harry had to blink in surprise. Trust Ginny to talk about things so easily, even without her expression changing a single bit.

Dumbledore leaned forward on his desk. "And how are you?"

Ginny shrugged. "Just fine, sir."

Dumbledore motioned for them to take the seats in front of the desks. Harry and Ginny sat down, facing each other. Dumbledore conjured three cups and a steaming teapot.

"The dreams," Dumbledore went on, now looking at Harry. "How are they?"

Harry shook his head. He told him about how the dreams didn't come on a nightly basis anymore; how his parents didn't mention a word about the counter-curse in any of them. He told him of the last two dreams that they had—about the Death Eater attack, and his father meeting Snape in Hogwarts. Both of them seemed unimportant, considering the gravity of the dream they were really waiting for.

Dumbledore turned to Ginny again. His eyes looked concerned, and at the same time serious. "Ginny, I want you to tell me...honestly...how you are feeling physically."

Ginny seemed to sense the intensity of Dumbledore's words. She half-shrugged awkwardly. "I feel okay, Professor," she murmured. "I want to go to sleep early at night, but that's just about it. The potion Harry gave me makes me feel a bit better at night, though."

Dumbledore produced some tea leaves and placed them inside the teapot. "And you haven't felt any pain anywhere in your body?"

Harry straightened up all of a sudden. Pain? The pain he felt in his chest earlier in the morning... it had somehow slipped from his mind, as though it was part of the dream itself.

"No, sir," said Ginny.

Professor Dumbledore and Ginny didn't seem to have noticed Harry's confusion. "Why didn't you come to class last Wednesday?" Dumbledore asked.

"I..." Ginny hesitated. "I just didn't...feel like going, sir," she mumbled. "The dream—the one about the Death Eater attack...it was so sad that I felt too exhausted to move."

Dumbledore's white brows furrowed. He turned to Harry. "You said you had the dream about your father and Professor Snape this morning, am I right?"

"Yes, sir." Harry was wondering if he should ask Dumbledore about the pain he felt—but what would Ginny say? She had made it clear to him, perfectly, that she didn't want him hurt.

"Lily wasn't there, so naturally you, Ginny, will have a different dream—one about Lily. What did you dream about?"

"I dreamed about her and Harry," said Ginny. "She just sort of talked to him and sang him to sleep. It was pretty sad, actually."

"Sad?" Dumbledore repeated. "How do you feel now, Ginny?"

Harry almost expected Ginny to blurt out, "sad," but she didn't. "Okay," she said. "A bit sleepy, Professor, but okay."

Dumbledore gazed at her thoughtfully. His eyes were so intense, Harry saw, that Ginny looked down on her feet and bit her lip.

Harry wondered what was coming up. Dumbledore clearly understood something in the small pieces of information he and Ginny had given. Harry wondered, again, if he could add to that by telling him of the pain in his chest... and, now that he thought about it, the weakness he felt the day Ginny didn't go to classes. Were they somehow connected?

Presently Dumbledore stood up and paced the room. Ginny's eyes followed Dumbledore for a moment, then went back to Harry questioningly. Harry shrugged, unable to answer her unspoken questions.

"You seem to show extraordinary resilience to the curse, Ginny," Dumbledore finally said. "Those whom I know had been hit by the Cunctantis Curse died a week later."

Harry and Ginny looked at each other in shock.

"I know it says two weeks in your schoolbooks," Dumbledore continued, "but I'm afraid they need to revise them. Two weeks is only an estimate, and a very rough one, I may add. I know the victims of the curse personally, and they felt emotional turmoil as they waited for death to come. It utterly affects the time they have left."

Dumbledore turned to Ginny. "But you, my dear, don't feel that kind of emotion anymore, because you know you're given a chance to live. What you do have, however, are dreams that exhaust you emotionally."

Harry knotted his forehead. So the dream about the attack had literally drained her out. That was why she wasn't able to go to her classes.

"You don't realize it, but there seems to be something in you strong enough to help you fight the curse. Perhaps it will hold on long enough for you and Harry to finally dream about something good—the counter-curse." Dumbledore went back to his desk and, smiling, poured tea into the teacups. "Of course, I expect that kind of toughness in you, Ginny. Most wizards would have easily failed under Voldemort's power, but you fought him back for a whole year at eleven years old."

"I had some help," she replied, looking over at Harry, smiling.

Harry smiled back, but his mind was someplace else. If what Dumbledore had said was true—that something else was helping Ginny go through the Cunctantis Curse—it was probably him, Harry. Didn't he feel weak himself when Ginny was supposed to be emotionally worn out, after those dreams? And this morning—when in Ginny's dream, his mother was crying—didn't he feel his chest constrict painfully? It was as though the effects of the curse was channeled onto him. Although how, he couldn't explain it himself.

Not that it mattered. Harry took the cup of tea Dumbledore offered and took a sip. He figured, as long as he was strong, Ginny will be able to hold on. That, and matched by Ginny's natural resilience. She didn't quail completely under Voldemort's power three years ago, and she couldn't quail under a Death Eater curse easily, either. She was strong. And Harry knew he would be for her, too.

Just as long as the dreams didn't exhaust her even more. The dreams were going to help, he knew it, but they had to be... light.

There was no need to tell Dumbledore, or anybody, about what had occurred to him, it seemed to Harry.

How very wrong he was.

Days passed. After the talk with Dumbledore, Ginny and Harry basked in the new hope given to them. There were no dreams; this bothered Harry, but only a bit. He was more relieved upon seeing Ginny almost back to normal. After a week, it even seemed as though she had thrown off the curse completely, in fact.

Hermione had noticed this, too, and asked Harry about it as they were studying for their O.W.L.s, which was dangerously near.

"I thought you're going to be glad about it," he told her.

"I am," said Hermione. "But you haven't dreamed of the counter-curse yet, have you?"

"No," Harry said, not looking up from Unfogging the Future. "But its time will come."

The dream finally came. But it was nothing like Harry had wanted to see.

* * *

Sirius took a deep breath as he held Harry close to him. It was dreadfully cold on that October evening, especially in this dark forest where all sorts of dark creatures probably lurked. But the baby's body was warm, like it was for all babies. He carefully arranged the blanket around the boy and gazed at him. His godson was so small, so vulnerable.

James watched as Sirius held Harry. It would be quite a while before James would see Sirius again. In fact, he wondered if he'd ever see his best friend again.

Sirius gave a tender smile to Harry, something that James rarely saw on Sirius's face. Harry could do that to someone as brash as Sirius Black.

Harry. It was unfair. It wasn't right for the boy to be thrown into this kind of destiny. He was only a year old, and yet he had to live like this. Sometimes, James wished that Harry wasn't born to him, for such a beautiful child deserved a normal life. Not a life where he was forced to hide.

But this will be the last, James swore to himself. After this, everything will be all right. We will round up the Death Eaters eventually. We will defeat Voldemort.

James felt his wife's hands clasp on his wrist. "He's here," she said, her voice shaking.

Against the mist, James could make out a short, stocky figure approaching them. It was Peter. Sighing in relief, he motioned for Sirius to come.

Lily smiled at Peter. "Thanks, Pete."

Peter looked edgy, as he always were when they were in an operation. But James thought Peter looked even more nervous than he usually was. Despite the cold air, he was sweating.

"You okay?" Sirius asked him.

Peter nodded. "Yeah," he croaked.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt," Lily told him. "It's just a simple spell."

James knew Lily thought more than that. The Fidelius Charm was immensely complex, as Professor Flitwick had put it. But Professor Dumbledore had said that it was their best chance, and James thought he was right. Lily had learned the spell well, and volunteered to perform the charm.

James felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Sirius was looking at him, trying to smile, but his eyes betrayed him.

"I have a bottle of Firewhiskey at home," Sirius said, his voice shaking. "Seventy-five years old. When this is all over, you, Lily, Peter and Remus can all come over. And don't forget to bring Harry," he added, motioning to the bundle he was holding.

James nodded. "That will be some day, huh, Padfoot?"

James thought he saw Sirius's eyes glisten. "It'll come," said Sirius simply. "I know it."

Lily sniffled beside James. "Well," she whispered hoarsely, "I guess I'd better do it now."

"Will you be all right with it, really?" Sirius asked her. "It'll drain you out."

"It'll only take a whole day's rest," Lily assured him. "I'll be fine."

Sirius nodded.

They all knew that the time had come at last.

Sirius bent down to place a kiss on Harry's forehead. "Be strong, Prongs Junior," he whispered. Unwillingly, he handed Harry to James. "And you too."

James grasped Sirius hand tightly. He felt his own eyes prickle with tears. "Sirius, I was just thinking... if anything happens to me and Lily—"

"Shut up," Sirius said sternly. "You'll both come out of there alive."

"One can never tell," James replied. "Look... you're Harry's godfather. You'll take care of him in case that happens."

Sirius looked at James in disbelief. His eyes traveled to Peter, then Lily.

Lily just smiled. She didn't bother to contain her tears. "One can never tell," she repeated. "But Harry will come out alive, and we'll make sure of that."

Lily's green eyes bored into Sirius's. Finally, he took a deep breath, and nodded.

Lily walked over to him and embraced him. "Thank you," she whispered.

James grasped his hand again. The two men stared hard into each other's eyes, unsaid words flowing out in torrents, both of them wishing each other luck, both submitting to their own destinies.

After an agonizing moment, Sirius let go and took out his wand. With a final curt nod at Peter, he Disapparated.

James sighed heavily and faced Peter. He extended out his hand. "Wormtail, I really appreciate what you'll be doing. Padfoot will keep you safe in your hiding place, all right?"

Peter just nodded nervously. "Yeah... I know. I'm ready."

James looked at Lily. "Are you?"

Lily wiped away her tears. "Sure I am."

James breathed deeply again. His heart began to quicken in its beating. "Okay."

Lily slowly took out her wand... and placed its tip on Peter's head.

* * *

Harry woke up with a start, his pulse racing a mile a minute. The dream was still in his mind, and when he closed his eyes again, he could still see the dark forest, could feel the harsh air.

The dream... the dream occurred a week before his parents died. And in the way the pace of the dreams was going, it was probably the second to the last dream the wedding rings would give him and Ginny.

He got out of bed and ran flat out of the dormitory, not even noticing that Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus had called out to him. Ginny had to know as soon as she got down from the fourth-year girls' room—that barely a week after the Fidelius Charm was performed, Peter betrayed his parents and sold them to Voldemort. The last dream will almost certainly be of that night his parents died. Ginny had to know.

Suddenly, something Sirius had said in the dream came back to Harry, and Sirius's apprehensive voice was crystal-clear: "Will you be all right with it, really? It'll drain you out."

The Fidelius Charm was a complex one, and drained his mother out. "It'll only take a whole day's rest. I'll be fine."

"No," Harry panted as he stepped into the common room. It couldn't have affected Ginny... could it? He didn't feel anything... he didn't feel weak at all....

There was a sudden scream from somewhere in the girls' dormitories. Harry didn't think twice. He sprinted up their staircase, his feet carrying him to the room of the fourth-years.

The door was ajar. Harry suddenly bumped into Hermione as he tried to come in.

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, her face white. "Oh, Harry—"

Harry looked behind her. Three girls were huddled around a bed. His gaze fell on the silver thing on the floor beside it.

It was the wireless he had given Ginny for her birthday.

"—The wireless fell on the floor. They tried to rouse her up. She won't wake."