Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

HARRY POTTER AND THE SWORD OF THE HERO

Chapter 10 - Death

I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection. 'Tis the business of little minds to shrink, but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.

--Thomas Paine (1737-1809)

We have her. Come to the Shrieking Shack alone if you want to see her alive. You have until half past the hour. Come alone, Potter.

Harry stood in disbelief for a moment. Padma... they have Padma. He checked his watch, it was quarter past nine. Fifteen minutes and they would kill her. Suddenly, a fury weld up inside him unlike any he'd ever felt before. Instead of feeling worried, Harry was furious; they had gone to far... this was out of order... if she's hurt... The anger was set to consume him; he felt the magic pulsing through his veins in response to this extremely strong emotion. The note in his hand exploded into flames as he held it.

It hurt, so much magic was running through him. He could feel it building up, needing release. His magic continued to grow. Harry could smell it, taste it, and hear it. To him it sounded sort of like Phoenix song, but it was dull. And then finally he saw it. His magic had grown so much that it just burst out of him. Blinding white light was all he could see; it was so hot... and painful. Was this the power Dumbledore told me about? The power the Dark Lord knows not? Had this happened in the hospital? The pain from this release was huge. It took all he had just to remain standing. Harry didn't know how long he stood inside the light; to him it felt like hours. Hours inside his magic, where at once it hurt so much, but at the same time felt so good. Almost instantly the light subsided. The pain was gone and everything appeared normal. That was until he looked around himself. His magic, the white light, had destroyed everything within a fifty metre radius. Trees on the outskirts of the Forest burned, the grass was reduced to ash. The fine layer of snow that had settled had melted, as had a section of the ice lake, and anything in his way had been uprooted and thrown past the edge of this ring of destruction.

Harry took all of this in and then he remembered Padma. Checking his watch he saw that only five minutes had passed. He looked around himself again... this would have to wait till later. His anger was growing again. Once more he could feel his magic, but this time it felt second nature to him, it made him feel powerful. He raised his hand and saw the magic there, faint crackles of light emanated from it, like little bolts of lightning. They reminded him of his scar.

Without thinking, he extended his right arm and shouted "ACCIO FIREBOLT!" Looking up at what he knew to be his window up at Gryffindor Tower, he saw something burst through the pane of glass, shattering it into a thousand pieces. The broom zoomed through the air, faster than Harry had ever seen it go. Within five seconds he had it in his hand and was beginning to mount it. He kicked off from the ground with such force that he was soon higher than he'd ever been on his broom. He soared through the air, at amazing speeds, fuelled on pure anger. Up and over the forest, the wind howling in his wake. The forest gave way to the road that led to Hogsmeade and soon he was near the hill that held the shack. He soon saw the shack and began his descent.

Outside, beside the front of the door, was a single man dressed in black robes complete with a mask, a Death Eater. Harry came down in the trees to the left of the shack. Leaving his broom where it was, he pulled out his wand and ran towards the man. Before the Death Eater could react, Harry slammed into him hard, knocking him to the floor. Harry didn't stop; he raised his fist and brought it crashing down into the man's mask. The mask snapped under the force of his fist and Harry's fist connected with the Death Eater's nose. Howling with pain the man tried to raise his wand, Harry was quicker. He turned his wand on the Death Eater, "Stupefy." The man lay still, unconscious, blood covering his face from his now broken nose.

Anger still consumed Harry. He turned towards the door and walked towards it. He raised his hand and without even saying anything the door blew off its hinges inwards, with wood splinters flying everywhere Harry entered the shack. The first thing he noticed was that it was quiet... quiet and dark. And then he saw something else. In the layers and layers of dust that covered everything from the years of disuse the shack had endured. He saw the footprints he and Rafe had made but he also saw something else. Two sets of footprints could be seen going up the stairs. He and Rafe never went up the stairs. Harry wasted no time. Running up the filth covered steps he hoped that she was still alive... if not...

Harry now stood alone on the landing at the top of the stairs. He could feel that something was wrong. Surely anyone here would have heard him by now? He looked at all the doors on this floor in quick succession, on one of them, in the gap between the floor and the door; he could see a thin beam of light pouring out onto the landing. It didn't take a genius.

Harry ran over to the door and without hesitation, turned the handle and walked in. He realised and recognised several things all at once. This was the room where he had first met Sirius. Padma was on the bed... not moving. There was a Death Eater standing over her, a knife in his hand and a wand trained on her heart. And finally he saw a man calmly sitting in a chair by the fire, a man with a silver hand.

"Harry," said Peter Pettigrew happily when Harry entered. "How wonderful to see you again." Harry felt his anger, and disgust, increase ten fold at the site of Wormtail. "Please, sit down."

Harry used every ounce of strength he had to stop himself attacking Wormtail and controlling his magic; he couldn't do it while the other man had his wand pointed at Padma. "Let her go, Wormtail... or else...."

"I'm afraid not, Harry. You see, as long as we have her," he nodded towards Padma, "you can't do anything to us." Wormtail smiled as if this settled everything.

Harry clenched his fist around his wand. "Really. Well, okay, how about this. You release her, and you and your friend leave here alive."

Wormtail wasn't listening. "Do you realise this is the very room where we met in your third year, where you first met Sirius."

If Harry was angry a minute ago, it was nothing compared to the anger raging through him now. "Don't-you-dare-talk-about-him."

"It was a shame how he died, just terrible. Do you know I felt a bit sorry when Bellatrix told me what had happened. But that is all in the past. I am to take you to my Lord."

That was enough for him. Harry raised his wand and pointed it at Wormtail. "Stupefy!" The curse flew out of Harry's wand and rocketed through the air towards Wormtail. It was about to hit him when suddenly he raised his silver arm and the curse seemed to be absorbed into it. It glowed red for a second and then became silver once more. Harry was confused for a moment, but that feeling soon gave way to hatred.

"Tut, tut, Harry. I'm afraid your friend here will pay for that." He nodded towards the man at the bed.

The Death Eater didn't react for a moment, but then. "Crucio!" The man fired the most painful curse known at Padma. Harry could see her open her eyes and then suddenly her screams filled the room.

"AAARRGGGHHH!"

"NO, YOU BASTARD." Harry raised his wand in a flash and quickly fired the disarming curse at the man. It hit him square in the chest and he flew backwards, hitting the wall with a sickening crack. He did not get back up. Harry wheeled round and pointed his wand back at Wormtail, but it was too late. A disarming charm hit him in the face and shoved him back against the door. "Uuff," was all he said as he slid to the floor, his wand now in Wormtail's possession.

Harry looked over at Padma. She was awake now, tears were in her eyes. She was scared, Harry could tell that much. He tried to tell her everything was going to be all right, tried to say it with his eyes. But then Wormtail moved over to her, a wand trained on both Harry and Padma. She passed out again, holding her stomach. "How should she die, Harry? This is what my Master told you would happen; it shouldn't come as a surprise. You refused him, that wasn't wise. It has only resulted in death-"

"YOURS," shouted Harry, the anger rising again. He raised his arms. "STUPEFY." The jets of red light shot out of Harry's arms, they were extremely powerful.

Wormtail smiled and lazily raised his silver arm. The curse hit it hard. At first Harry thought that once again it had been absorbed, but no. He saw Wormtail struggling with this one. His silver arm glowed red and then Wormtail forced it back to silver, but the red returned, again Wormtail forced it back. This time it stayed silver, he had stopped the curse, just, but it had taken a lot out of him. He was panting heavily and exhaustion was evident.

Harry didn't waste his chance. "Expelliarmus!" he cried. This spell hit Wormtail and knocked him back against the wall. Harry's wand flew from Pettigrew's hand and into his own.

That was all Wormtail would take. With one last fearful look at Harry, he disapparated with a small pop! Forgetting about him in an instant, Harry rushed over to Padma on the bed.

"Padma," he cried, kneeling down next to her. "Padma, speak to me please."

Padma began to move and she opened her eyes; she stared somewhat strangely at Harry before seeming to recognise him. "Harry...." she struggled to say, "Harry, it hurts...." She reached down and grabbed her stomach; Harry saw that there was blood on her robes, Padma passed out again. Harry suddenly felt sick, they'd hurt her, she'd been stabbed. He hadn't stopped them, the Death Eater with the knife, the Cruciatus... he had to get her to Madam Pomfrey.

With strength surprising even himself, Harry easily picked up Padma and started to run. Out onto the landing, down the stairs, taking three at a time until he was outside. What now? he thought. I can't fly back, she might fall off...nothing for it, I have to run.

And run was what he did, he practically sprinted down the hillside and down onto the main road to Hogwarts, Padma still in his arms. He reached the old road and immediately continued to run. How far he thought five, ten minutes to the castle doors maybe? Another five to get to the hospital wing.

It was as if he was possessed, nothing, absolutely nothing could have stopped Harry from running. He didn't slow down; he didn't stop to catch his breath. He ran with every ounce of strength he had. Under normal circumstances he would have collapsed with exhaustion, but not now. The snow was falling thicker now, but it didn't deter him. Harry looked down at Padma as he ran. Her robes were now heavily stained with blood, as were his hands. If she dies he thought if she dies because of me I'll....

Harry reached the gates to the castle and passed them by in a blur, he raced up the drive with all the speed he could muster, passing several bewildered looking second years as he went. In what seemed like hours to Harry, but was really a few minutes, Harry arrived at the wooden door that marked the entrance to the castle. Thankfully some more students were coming out of it so it was open. Harry jumped up the steps, not touching a one and barged through the crowd, knocking a few people down. But he didn't have time to stop and apologise.

The run was now getting to Harry. His lungs burned with the amazing effort he had just put in. He'd made it from the Shrieking Shack to Hogwarts in ten minutes on foot. That has got to be a record he thought as he rushed up the stone steps in the entrance hall. Every breath and step was now painful but Harry didn't slow down. Passing by students and even a few professors, Harry did not stop. He raced through the corridors, up flights of stairs and finally, when he thought his lungs would burst with the enormous effort, he saw the doors to the hospital wing.

With one last extraordinary effort Harry put on a final burst of speed and slammed hard into the doors of the hospital, back first. Ignoring the pain he shouted. "MADAM POMFREY! SHI- MADAM POMFREY." Damn it, where was she? he thought. "MADAM POMFREY, DAMN IT! MADAM POM-

"Potter, what's all this shouting," said Madam Pomfrey emerging from her office. If Harry had ever been so happy to see the elderly matron it was then. "I expect better of you-" Madam Pomfrey's words died on her lips as she caught sight of Padma. She was now all business. "Quickly, Harry. This bed." Harry ran over and placed Padma on a bed. "Now tell me, Potter, what happened?"

Harry panted heavily, beads of sweat dripping down his face; it was really warm in here. "D- Death... Eaters, stabbed- stomach...."

Madam Pomfrey immediately began examining Padma's stomach. Harry on the other hand, suddenly felt very sick and dizzy. The effects of that run had started to catch up with him. He stumbled backwards and fell on to a bed. His vision became blurry and he felt very hot. With one last look at Padma, Harry passed out.

"Nothing is impossible, Harry. I want you to remember that, you'll need it. Nothing and I mean nothing is impossible...."

"We will meet again, a teenager can defeat the Dark Lord, and you're more powerful than you know."

"I'll remember, Sirius...."

Harry awoke with a start. It took him a moment to get his bearings. He was lying on a soft bed in the dark. Slowly his eyes became accustomed to the darkness and he began to make shapes of his surroundings. There was a table; high windows through which little moonlight flittered through, and a row of dark masses that he assumed were beds.

He sat for a moment with his hands pressed against his forehead trying to remember where he was. And then in one swift moment of bittersweet realisation it hit him. Quick as a flash Harry jumped out of bed and searched his pocket for his wand, it wasn't there. He cursed under his breath and then raised his right arm. "Lumos," he whispered. A ball of light grew out of his hand and hovered over his palm, lighting the immediate area and casting pale shadows over everything around.

It took Harry a moment to spot her, and when he did he breathed a sigh of relief. Padma was asleep three beds over, she was slightly pale but the slow rhythmic movement of her chest showed Harry that she was breathing and alive.

His relief was short lived, though. It was immediately replaced by a feeling of guilt. This was his fault. Wormtail had taken her to get to him, and in turn get him to Voldemort. She had paid for being close to him, as Voldemort had promised. Harry let the light die in his hands and then picked up a glass off the bed side cabinet. With a cry he threw it across the room and it hit the wall hard, shattering into dozens of separate pieces. He sighed angrily and sat back down on his bed, trying to control his anger. After what happened last time he got angry....

And what had happened? he thought.

My magic escaped and destroyed everything around me... Harry answered himself.

How?

Harry sighed again. How...? I got angry, it made me powerful. The magic responded to the strong emotion I was feeling.

It wouldn't have happened to anyone else... again you're different...

The little rational voice in his head was starting to annoy him. I don't need this he thought.

Harry lay back down on the bed and removed his glasses. This would wait until morning; no doubt Dumbledore wants to know what happened. Not to mention Parvati, or Padma's parents....

As these thoughts clouded his mind, Harry slowly felt his eyes close and before he knew it, sleep took him. Harry didn't know how long he slept, but when he woke up the sun was shining into the hospital wing and he could hear the daily activity of the school outside the room.

Harry slowly swung around and let his feet touch the ground. He was just about to stand when a sudden and sharp stab of pain shot through his scar. Harry quickly raised his hand and rubbed it viciously. Having been experiencing this on and off for the past six years, Harry didn't pay much heed to it. It was the brief flashes that accompanied the pain that were what now interested him.

And what he saw this time made him smile grimly. That was probably the Slytherin in him. Wormtail was getting what he deserved for failing his master. As the pain subsided Harry stood up. The first thing he did was look over to Padma. She appeared to be fine, but the glare he received from the person next to her made Harry cringe.

"Hello, Parvati," he said quietly, walking across the room and placing the bed with Padma on between them. "How- How are you?"

"How do you think I am?" she spat. Harry didn't say anything, so she continued. "This," she gestured towards Padma, "is your fault."

Harry sighed and had the grace to look down. "I- I know," he whispered.

"You should have just left her alone. None of this would have happened if she had just listened to me...."

"What...?" said Harry.

Parvati scowled. "I told her a month ago to stay away from you. Told her it was too dangerous being involved with Harry Potter."

Harry's jaw stiffened. "And what did she say?"

Parvati laughed humourlessly. "She said I should mind my own business. Told me she was happy and to leave you and her alone."

"Well-"

"I was right, though, wasn't I?" Her voice held a bitterness Harry had never heard before. "Look what you've done. She nearly died...." Parvati's voice faltered near the end and she looked down. "Oh! By the way... thank you for rescuing her..."

Harry looked up when she said this and was about to reply when Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office. She was holding a tray in her hands. "Ah, Potter," she said drawing level to Harry. "Here, drink this." She put the tray on the bedside table and handed a small goblet of a clear blue liquid to Harry. Harry hesitated. "It's a strengthening potion, Potter. You over did it yesterday."

Harry nodded and swallowed the potion quickly, it tasted terrible. As Harry drank, Madam Pomfrey took out her wand and began to examine Padma. "How is she?" asked Harry quietly when he finished the potion, feeling energised from it.

Madam Pomfrey didn't answer straight away, and when she did she addressed Parvati. "She's going to be fine. The knife pierced her small intestine and lower liver. But the magic is repairing it slowly. She'll probably be asleep for another day or so, until she is fully healed."

Harry sighed with relief and Parvati seemed to relax as well. She'll be fine he thought. But this was still my fault....

"Potter, the headmaster wanted to see you when you woke. He is expecting you anytime."

Harry jumped out of his thoughts as Madam Pomfrey spoke. It took him a moment to process what she said but when he did he nodded and began to walk away. He had barely taken a few steps before he stopped and turned to look at Padma. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Harry left the hospital wing and was immediately swept up in the throng of students making their way around the castle. He briefly glanced at his watch and saw that the first lesson of the day had just ended. The second one was just beginning.

As Harry walked the familiar route to Dumbledore's office, he heard several people shout his name. He neither had the time nor the patience for them now so he just ignored it. Thankfully no one tried to stop him. He passed a very dazed looking Luna Lovegood, who just smiled happily at him and walked on. Eventually he arrived at the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance. It was closed.

I don't know the password he thought. "Em... Canary Cream?" The gargoyle didn't move. "Chocolate Frog?" It still didn't move. "Ber-"

"Skiving Snackbox!" said a familiar voice behind Harry. The stone gargoyle sprang to life and Harry turned around and looked into the face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor...."

"Let's talk upstairs, Harry." Dumbledore's voice seemed to have a note of sympathy in it, and also confusion.

Harry was soon sitting opposite Dumbledore next to his desk. A few moments passed in silence before the headmaster spoke. "Please tell me what happened, Harry?"

And Harry did. He began with his plans to spend the day with Padma and finished with his collapse in the hospital wing. He didn't exclude a single detail. Especially about the white magic that had surrounded him after receiving the note. Dumbledore hadn't interrupted him once, and when he finished he found himself seeing confusion in the old man's eyes. "What is it, sir?"

"Your magic, Harry. It is growing extremely powerful in response to your emotions. Now couple that with your already high levels through your connection with Voldemort.... This is something you will need to learn to control...."

Harry nodded; he had expected to hear something like this. After all his magic had destroyed a part of the forest. "How can I control something I don't understand...?" he finally said.

"That," said Dumbledore solemnly, "is something that you have to discover on your own. There are no answers that I can give you, only those you will find by yourself."

Typical Dumbledore answer... thought Harry. His thoughts had strayed back to Padma, though, and how she had paid for being close to him. "Padma nearly died because of me...." he whispered.

Dumbledore sighed and, in one of those rare moments, looked his age. "Voldemort did strike out at you through her, Harry. I'm sorry to say I don't know how she was abducted from Hogwarts, maybe she can tell us...."

"She's not awake yet," replied Harry dryly. "Her wounds are still healing."

"Did Madam Pomfrey-"

"Tomorrow maybe? She wasn't really that sure...." Harry stared at the floor as a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. Only me he thought this could only happen to me....

"What's troubling you, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry was stunned for a moment at the pointlessness of this question. What's troubling me...? "What isn't troubling me!" he growled. "Everyday I fear that he'll kill one of my friends. Yesterday I got lucky, they needed Padma alive. But what if one of these days he decides to kill someone close to me just out of spite? To break me, make me give in."

"The Fidelius charm-"

"I know Ron and Hermione are protected, but I have more than just two friends..."

Dumbledore didn't speak for a moment. "No one's safety is guaranteed, Harry. We are at war. It is a harsh reality of the world that you'll come to accept. Just like I did after killing Grindelwald...."

Harry sat in silent thought for a moment before a question popped into his head. "Professor, Voldemort wants to rid the world of all but the purebloods, but what did Grindelwald want?"

Dumbledore's brow furrowed in thought for a moment before he answered. "You have to understand, Harry, Voldemort is threatening the entire world. Grindelwald wanted something on a lesser scale, but still just as evil. He believed in Hitler's notion of an Aryan race. And was prepared to go to any lengths to see it achieved.... I'm sorry to say that he wasn't stopped earlier in the war... things may have been different." Dumbledore hung his head as if he was weighed down by some hidden guilt that he had been carrying for years.

Harry looked at his watch, he was surprised to see that he had been up here with Dumbledore for an hour and a half, it was almost lunch time. He looked back at Dumbledore and saw the old man staring caringly back at him. "There is not much I can do to help you now, Harry. So much is still to be done before the end. But I can promise, one day, one day it will get better."

Harry smiled sadly. "But not before it gets worse. Voldemort hasn't even truly shown himself to the world at large yet. The dementor attack was his first real challenge. The way I see it, the world is still sinking into the darkness with no chance of an end in sight. It may get better one day, but that day will be years away. And I might not even be there to see it."

A flash of what Harry took to be pain flashed across Dumbledore's face. "Harry, a good person is willing to suffer, to die for the things that they care about; for love, for the right choices. But that does not mean that you will die... nothing is certain."

Harry sighed. "Isn't that the truth." Harry held his silence for a moment. "Thank you, Professor. I'm going to go see Padma now." Harry rose from his seat, as did Dumbledore and he followed Harry to the stairs.

"Take care of yourself, Harry. I don't blame you for going off by yourself yesterday; I doubt anyone could have handled the situation as you did. Just try to control your emotions, that power in you isn't something to be trifled with. I'll have to look into this more deeply."

Harry nodded with understanding and walked away down the stairs. Through it all it was times like this when he felt the safest. Talking with Dumbledore in Hogwarts seemed to be calming, relaxing, no matter what they were discussing. Hogwarts was his home and at times it made him forget the darkness and emotion of cruelty that grasped the world in its cold embrace. For this he was very thankful.

Harry found himself walking back towards the hospital wing. It was lunch time so the halls were as busy as when he had gone to see Dumbledore. Harry didn't really notice it anymore, he had endured six years of it, but now he paid special attention to all the whispers that sprung up as he passed people in the halls. He watched the kids from the younger years meet his eyes quickly before turning away sharply and whispering furiously to their friends. He saw the awestruck looks on some of their faces and he also saw an extreme look of hate from a sixth year Slytherin as he walked by. Malfoy didn't say anything but his scowl said a thousand words.

Harry wondered vaguely if Malfoy would one day be a Death Eater, and if so would he fight him? Then another thought came to him. What if he already was a Death Eater....? Could he have anything to do with what happened to Padma? Harry stored that information away for later. If it had been him, he would be sorry.

Harry didn't attend the rest of his lessons that day. He sat guiltily by Padma's bed in the hospital wing. Parvati had gone back to class as it became clear that Harry wouldn't be leaving, she didn't want to talk to him right now, and Harry couldn't blame her.

The long hours past in silence. Padma muttered some small words under her breath which Harry didn't catch but that was it. It was at seven thirty that Parvati returned, she didn't seem to hold the same amount of hostility towards him and she spoke without the bitterness in her voice, but he could tell she was still angry.

"Ron and Hermione were asking after you," she said once she had sat down. "They're worried."

Harry nodded his thanks and looked at Padma once before standing up. She was a bit pale but other than that it was as if she was just asleep. As he walked through the halls he wondered what he was going to tell his friends. The truth said the little voice in his head. You tell them the truth... But what is the truth? They hurt her to get to me and that they could be next if they left Hogwarts?

Harry sighed and rubbed his heavy eyes. How long could he keep this up? How long could he continue the fight? The war had already taken so much and it was only just beginning. Harry's thoughts strayed to Sirius, having accepted his death he could now go days without thinking of his godfather and feeling the guilt... but it was always there in the back of his mind, taunting him. Harry passed by a painting without really looking at it. It took him a moment to process what he saw and when he did Harry stopped and turned around back to the painting. It was Sir Cadogan and he was bowing to Harry.

"Good evening, sir," said the knight respectfully.

"Er... hi," said Harry. "I don't mean to be rude... but why are you bowing to me?"

Sir Cadogan rose and looked at Harry as though he were stupid. "Why? I'm bowing to the descendant of Godric Gryffindor, am I not?"

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes," he said warily, "yes you are. But not many people know that."

The small knight stuck his chest out proudly while Harry vaguely wondered how he had found out. "Why hide something as honourable as this?" Cadogan asked.

Harry continued to frown at the portrait. "The less my enemies know the better...."

"Ahh! Never show your hand until the stakes are high. Very good, boy!"

Harry nodded and smiled slightly at the knight. It reminded him of Mad Eye Moody. "How did you know I was Gryffindor's descendant?"

"My comrade in arms resides in the headmaster's office. It was he who told me." As the knight talked his small pony walked into the frame of the portrait and nudged his master's hand. Sir Cadogan looked down at the animal for a moment and then turned back to Harry. "It appears I am needed on the fourth floor, sir. The goblins in their portrait are rebelling again." The knight pulled his glittering sword from its sheath and mounted the small pony. With a small click the beast started to move and then began galloping away through the portraits.

Harry stood smiling and shaking his head for a moment as Sir Cadogan's battle cries grew fainter and fainter. He briefly thought of Sir Cadogan's sword and his gaze drifted down to his left arm. He hadn't called Gryffindor's sword to him since that morning in the common room where he had instinctively grasped Hermione. With no more than a thought the strong sword appeared in his hand, the metal cold against his skin.

Harry sighed as his eyes swept up and down the blade, his image blurrily reflected in the steel. He wondered if this is how it would end... Harry knew he never wanted to use the killing curse against anyone, even Voldemort. But what choices did that leave? He was fairly certain that the Dark Lord would die if he severed his head with the sword, but would he ever get a chance? And could he do it if he did get that chance?

With another quick thought Harry put the sword away, feeling the familiar weight in his arm as it returned. This wasn't the time he thought to be deciding how to end it.

Without anymore distractions Harry made it to the portrait of the Fat Lady. She smiled at him slightly as he approached and bowed gracefully as Sir Cadogan had done. "You know to then?" She nodded. "Frivolous."

The portrait opened and Harry stepped into the common room. The first thing he noticed was the lack of noise, and the second was the eyes of every person in the room on him. He had expected it, but it still made him uncomfortable. "Hi..." he said to them all.

"Harry, over here," said Ron from the armchairs by the fire. As Harry walked over to the fire most people returned to whatever they were doing before he came in, but some were still casting glances at him out of the corners of their eyes. "How are you, mate," asked Ron as he sat down. Harry could tell he was trying to keep his voice casual, but the concern was there.

Harry looked at him and then at Hermione who was holding his hand across the chair next to him, the same concerned look on her face. To his right sat Ginny, who was also staring at him with worry. Harry sighed and rubbed his scar with the back of his hand, it was burning slightly. "I feel terrible," he finally said.

"Well you're probably hungry," said Hermione, trying to sound cheerful. "You missed breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We could go to the kitchens-"

"No," he sad quietly but firmly. "I'm not hungry."

Hermione feel silent, as did Ron. It was Ginny who spoke next. "What happened?" she asked simply.

For some reason the question didn't anger him as much as it would have had it come from someone else. He held his breath for a moment and then turned to look at Ginny. She returned his gaze strongly but Harry could tell she was nervous, as if he might shout. He didn't.

"The Death Eater's took Padma; I went and got her back." And then Harry recited his story, ending with his collapse in the hospital wing. Not one of them spoke when he finished and the awkward silence was most uncomfortable. "That's what happened," he said quietly.

"Harry," began Ron slowly. "It was you who caused all that destruction down on the grounds. We saw it in Magical Creatures and thought there had been a fire."

"It was me, and it was my magic that did it, not fire. I got angry and.... well there are other reasons which are my own," The three of them looked hurt that he wasn't going to tell them why it happened. "I'm sorry but this is my problem, I'll just have to learn how to control it."

"And how are you going to do that?" asked Ginny.

"Dumbledore's going to do what he can. I suppose I'll just have to wait."

"And how's Padma doing?" asked Ron.

"She's going to be all right, but it doesn't matter. I'm going to have to end it with her; she won't be safe until I'm out of her life."

None of his friends had anything to say to this. Deep down they knew he was right, but that didn't make to fair. "You won't-"

"Don't... don't even try, Hermione. It has to be done."

"Well she won't be happy about it, Harry. I'll tell you now it will hurt her." Hermione finished speaking and waited for Harry to retaliate.

"It may hurt her more to stay with me," he said calmly but sadly. He glanced quickly at Ginny; she remained impassive, not giving anything away as to what she might be feeling. And then Harry briefly wondered why he cared what she felt about him and Padma.

"It's up to you, Harry. But do it gently...."

The hours of the night slipped slowly by. Ron and Hermione were doing some Transfiguration homework, Harry didn't have any because he wasn't there to get it so he just stared idly into the flames, the guilt slowly eating away at him.

At one point in the night, he didn't know when, he looked up to see the common room was almost empty. Ron and Hermione were putting away their parchment, Ginny had already left, presumably she'd gone to bed, and the only other people in the room were a group of sixth and seventh years.

"Do you want to go up to bed, Harry?" asked Ron.

Harry nodded and lazily picked himself up. His limbs ached from the events of the previous day and he felt he needed a good night's sleep. Harry said goodnight to Hermione at the bottom of the stairs and Ron kissed her quickly before the two of them went up to their dormitory.

Harry fell to his bed without even changing out of his robes. A brief look at his wristwatch showed him that it was 11:30. Barely five minutes later, his eyes closed and sleep took him.

It was there again. The circle grew bigger the closer he got to it. There were the bodies of the dead littered all around it; the ground was stained heavily with their blood.

Harry stood still sadly. He was used to this dream now; he had had it enough times over the past few months. It was always the same. The circle grew, more people died, and he awoke. This time though it was different.

He looked into the circle and saw the images of a thousand different places flick by in quick succession. A forest, city, ocean, mountains, the sky. And then it went black, and two spots of red light shone out of the darkness. Eyes, blood red eyes. The circle flickered and disappeared entirely, only to be replaced by a monster.

Lord Voldemort stared at Harry with the look of upmost disgust on his face. Harry returned his glare, sure of himself that this monster no longer scared him. They walked towards eachother slowly, Voldemort raised his wand, and Harry called Gryffindor's sword to him. The blade appeared in his hand and Harry stared at it grimly for a moment. He felt sure that he could destroy Voldemort now. He looked back at the creature only to realise that he had a blade of his own in his hand. This took Harry by surprise and he didn't move for a moment, that was all Voldemort needed.

Harry stood helplessly as Voldemort's sword gleamed through the air and braced himself as the point pierced his chest. It was over in one swift moment and Harry fell to the floor screaming, the sword still embedded in him. The last thing he heard was that evil laughter before death took him.

Harry awoke with a start and instantly reached for his wand on the bedside table. He was breathing heavily as he looked wildly around. He had drawn the curtains around his bed as he got in to it and now that was all he saw. He raised his right hand and rubbed his chest, there was no puncture wound nor was there any blood. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he accepted that it was just a dream. It had felt very real but it had only been a dream. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was twelve thirty; he had barely been asleep for an hour and know he knew he wouldn't get back to sleep.

Harry fell back on his pillow and groaned inwardly. He could hardly go one night without a nightmare, but he no longer woke up screaming. He found it kind of sad that he could grow use to such terrible dreams about destruction and death, mostly involving his friends, and now no emotion betrayed how he felt. The dream he just had was nothing compared to other dreams he'd had over the past few months. The ones where he died were the best he ever had.

He sighed and as he sat up pulled the curtains open and looked around into the dark room. All the other lads in the room slept peacefully, blissfully unaware of his troubles. Harry felt jealous of them for a moment but it didn't last long, he wouldn't wish his nightmares on anyone.

Harry stood up and put his glasses on as he did. Slowly and quietly he moved towards the door. He opened it and slipped out quickly, without waking anyone up. He made his way down to the common room, which he knew would be deserted and went and sat in his familiar armchair by the fire. He tried to think about anything to keep his mind of his dreams, but that really only left him with the guilt of what happened to Padma and that was not a happy thought either.

Not for the first time that year, he wondered if his parents had sat in these chairs so many years ago, along with the rest of the Marauders. Had Sirius spent nights worrying about the first dark war in this chair? Had his father? Did they have any idea that one day the Marauders would be irreparably ripped apart at the seems by one of their own? Was Pettigrew contemplating joining Voldemort while he was still in school? Harry felt the anger in him as he thought of that traitor and all the trouble his choices had caused, all the death....

Harry's thoughts were disrupted as he heard the Fat Lady open and close. Who could be out this late? he thought. He was grasping his wand when the figure entered and loosened his grip a little when he saw who it was.

"Ethan, where've you been?"

Rafe's hand twitched in his pocket slightly as he saw Harry. He hadn't expected anyone to be up this late. He sighed and went and sat in an armchair across from Harry. "I've just been doing some reading in the library... lost track of time."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "The library closed about four hours ago?"

"I was hiding in the stacks, didn't want anyone to see me...." Rafe instantly regretted saying this. It made him sound like he was up to no good.

"Really..." said Harry, his mistrust increasing. "Do you mind if I ask what you were reading?"

Rafe hesitated for a moment before answering. "An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration."

Harry blinked, he hadn't been expecting that. "Why?"

Ethan sighed. "Before I came to England I was learning how to become an Animagus. I'd made some progress as well, but then I came here."

Harry nodded and then thought of his own animagus training. McGonagall hadn't mentioned it in a while and Harry was hoping that she managed to get a Griffin soon.

"How are you, by the way? I heard what happened to Padma. I'm sorry...."

Harry nodded his thanks but now he was thinking about Padma again. "She's doing okay. I got her back here in time, but she shouldn't have been taken in the first place... I put her in danger."

"That's not the only thing bothering you?"

Harry sighed and felt a bit angry at Rafe's bluntness. But he answered anyway. "I feel like I'm the only one who's fighting this war. The only one who is losing anything..." His voice sounded bitterer than he would have liked, but it didn't matter. It felt good to finally say that.

"That's not true, though, is it." It wasn't a question, it was the truth.

Harry growled. "No, no it isn't. But it still feels like it. Anyone that gets close gets hurt. If I were you I'd stay away."

Ethan was silent for a moment as if he was wondering whether or not to say something. He did. "Harry do you know what it feels like to be around you?"

"What?"

"I see it all the time, mostly in the younger students. They sit near you at dinner, or in this room. They like to be close to you. Do you know why?"

Harry shook his head; he hadn't known this, or even noticed this. "Why?" he asked quietly.

"They feel safe near you. You are the only one who has ever challenged Voldemort and won. Of the thousands that have died fighting him you are the only one who has ever survived, ever come close to defeating him. You give them hope. They see that you would die to protect them and in these times that means everything. They know you're powerful, maybe even enough to challenge him again."

"I've never noticed any of this..."

"Well you wouldn't. People stop talking when you come into a room. But your victories, Harry.... and your losses, mean more than you know. I myself wonder why the hell you carry on after it all? How the hell you carry on? Most people would have given up long ago if they'd had to go through half of what you have... And that's why people admire you, why they sit near you. Voldemort has thrown everything at you and you never broke."

Harry didn't know quite what to say. He didn't know, hadn't the slightest idea that people looked up to him like that. It made him feel good, made him feel like he didn't want to fail them, that he didn't want to take away their hope.

"Thank you, Ethan." Rafe nodded and then yawned, but his eyes remained sharp and alert. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin and shook his head as if to wake himself. "You look tired."

"I'm all right, but you've got big heavy rings under your eyes. Don't you sleep? You're always the last to go to bed and then you're the first to get up."

Harry shrugged. "I don't sleep very well. Haven't had a good night's sleep in months."

Rafe looked at him for a moment and then put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a silver hipflask. Harry thought that it looked to big to have come out of Ethan's jeans pocket. Rafe saw him looking.

"I magically enlarged my pockets. I can fit a lot of things in them."

Harry nodded. That made sense. "Could you teach me that sometime?" he asked.

"Sure," said Rafe taking a drink out of the hipflask and then passing it to Harry.

Harry took it and then stared at it in confusion. He tried to look inside at the contents but it was too dark. A strong burning smell came from within that made his nose hurt and his eyes water. Harry coughed. "What is it?"

Rafe smiled. "Dreamless sleep potion."

Harry laughed. "Its Firewhiskey, isn't it?"

"Some people call it that," shrugged Rafe. "Trust me; you'll sleep after a few swigs off that."

Harry stared down at the silver flask in his hands. It felt warm against the coldness of the dark around him and he could do with a decent night's sleep. Why not he thought. You only live once.... Harry brought the flask to his lips and poured some of the liquid into his mouth. At first he felt nothing, the whiskey had the consistency of honey and Harry swallowed it quickly. It was then that it hit him. It was a very sour mash and Harry felt it burn his throat hard as it went down. He started coughing furiously and didn't stop for a full minute. When he did he looked up at Rafe, who was laughing.

"I'm glad-" Harry coughed. "You think its-" He coughed again. "Funny!"

"Don't worry, mate. Everyone nearly dies the first time they try that stuff. How do you feel?"

"Warm," he said.

Rafe nodded. "Try it again."

Harry did, and this time he knew what to expect and managed to stifle his coughs a bit.

Harry and Rafe went up to bed half an hour later at about one thirty. Having drunk his fair share of the Firewhiskey, Harry felt ready to sleep for a month. Rafe had promised him that he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon tomorrow. He heard Ethan mumble something incoherently as he fell into his bed; he was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. And, as promised, his sleep was dreamless.

Harry woke up roughly the next morning as someone shook him heavily. He opened his eyes and immediately closed them again when he looked directly into the sunlight streaming in through the window. He groaned and placed his hand on his forehead.

"Come on, Harry," said Ron. "Get up or you'll not have time for breakfast."

Harry groaned again. "Sod off, Ron," he mumbled, continuing to hold his forehead.

"What's the matter? Is it your scar?"

"No.... Got a headache."

"A headache caused by evil?"

"No, a normal 'sun is too goddamn bright' headache," mumbled Harry.

"Well... are you planning on going to lessons today, or are you going to go see Padma?"

Harry opened his eyes. "Padma... I'm going to see her."

Ron nodded. "All right, mate. We'll see you at lunch?"

"Okay," croaked Harry, sitting up as Ron left the room. He glanced over to Ethan's bed and saw it empty. Grumbling that Ethan could possibly be feeling all right, he got roughly out of bed and stumbled over to his trunk. He took out a clean shirt and robes and put them on, promising himself that he would shower later. Right now he wanted to get to the hospital wing.

After twenty minutes of walking Harry wearily entered the hospital wing, shielding his eyes against the sunlight that fell across his path. He saw Padma still asleep in the bed she'd been in yesterday. A little colour had returned to her face and she was breathing normally, her hair strung out across her face. Harry sat on the bed next to her and remembered the time he'd spent with her. He remembered kissing her for the first time in Hogsmeade, the Prophet article that had followed, and then the time he'd spent with her up on the Astronomy tower. The last thing he saw before Madam Pomfrey came out was how beautiful she had looked on the night of the Order of Merlin ceremony. The medal from that now sat upstairs in his trunk, gathering dust.

"Good morning, Potter," she said briskly as she swept her wand over Padma, muttering small spells. "I thought you'd be here."

"Uh-huh," he mumbled, raising his hand to his forehead again.

"Is something the matter?"

"I've got a terrible headache...."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and finished checking over Padma. "Stay here; I'll go get a headache cure."

Harry smiled gratefully and leaned his back against the wall, the throbbing from his headache really starting to hurt. Madam Pomfrey returned a few minutes later and tapped him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes and hurriedly accepted the cup of steaming potion in her hand. Before she handed it to him, she quickly lifted one of his eye lids and peered into his left eye.

Finally she handed him the potion and shook her head sadly. Once Harry had drunk the potion his head immediately began to clear and he felt the after effects of the Firewhiskey slipping away.

"Ohh... thanks."

"You welcome, Mr. Potter. But don't think I don't know a hangover when I see one. God knows your father and Sirius Black were in here enough times begging me for a cure. Those two had me making new batches of potion every week."

"My father?"

"Yes and he wasn't the only one. I was giving at least one cure out a day. During the first war the older students thought it better to drink away their problems. Trust me, Mr. Potter; it won't help in the end."

Harry nodded and then turned to Padma. "How's she doing?"

"She should be awake today. Any moment. Are you staying?"

"If that's okay?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "She'll probably have a few questions for you anyway. I'll be in my office if anything happens."

Harry swung himself off the bed and reached into his robes pocket, looking for his wand. It wasn't there. He cursed silently under his breath when he remembered that he'd left it in the dirty robes on his bed. He was about to give up when he had a better idea. Raising his right hand he pictured a chair clearly in his mind and without even uttering an incantation conjured a chair to sit on. The fact that it had worked surprised Harry, the fact that he had done it without a wand surprised him again, and also the fact he'd done it without saying the incantation surprised him he most. Whether he knew it or not his magic was increasing in power.

Harry spent the better part of the morning sitting in silence next to Padma's bed. For amusement he conjured a few small balls of magic light and made them chase eachother around the room. Every few minutes he would send another one up to join the others. After an hour or so he had three dozen of the small balls of light whirling across the ceiling, all different colours. Red, blue, green, yellow, violet, black, white. All chasing one another. Harry moved his hands back and forth, controlling them all to go where he wanted. He thought it looked amazing as he kept adding more and more balls of magic to the mix. He knew they were harmless, no more dangerous than normal light. Harry forced them left and right, sent them bouncing into one another and even spelt his name with them.

Harry was doing it to pass the time but it also served another purpose. He had seen Hermione do this in the common room, when she had finished all her homework and was waiting patiently for him and Ron to finish, she would conjure the little balls of light without a wand and make them dance. But she could only manage six or so, three for each hand and she could only make them hover back and forth across her palms.

And now here he was. At least seventy of the little magic balls flying across the ceiling all at his command, under his control and he hadn't even broken a sweat. Harry kept pushing himself, conjuring one ball after another into the air. Soon he had a clean one hundred bouncing back and forth, all a rainbow of colours. If he had to sum it all up in one word, he would have said he was flawed. There seemed no end to the amount of magic he could put up there. Ball after ball was added until he lost count and they all became just one big jumble of colour and still he felt no strain. He could feel and control any of the balls up there that he wanted to and not one of them fell. It was amazing.

A bell rang in the distance that ended the second lesson of the day but Harry barely noticed it. With a quick flick of his hand he added five more balls to the mix, each one coming from one of his fingers. He sent the balls flying all over the room. They went under the beds, circled the torches, flittered around his head and formed patterns on the ceiling.

Harry sighed as he moved his hands left and right, controlling the hundreds of balls of light. If I can do this now he thought and my magic feels like it is still growing. What could I do in a month...?

"Harry," said a quiet voice to his right. "That's incredible...."

Harry jumped as the voice spoke and he lost his control of the small balls. They began to fall slowly to the ground, those closer to the ground disappeared as they touched it, the others fell like large flakes of snow; slowly and fluttering in the breeze. It made for an amazing sight as Harry turned to Padma, the hundreds of lights reflected in her eyes as the balls fell. Despite her ill look, Harry could tell she was awestruck.

"Padma are you, okay?" he asked desperately.

She continued to watch the falling light as she spoke but then she closed her eyes in a confused expression. "Harry? What... what happened?"

"You don't remember?" She shook her head slowly. "You were abducted, Padma. The Death Eater's took you and- and stabbed you...."

Padma closed her eyes again as if she was remembering. She didn't open them again for a moment and when she did, he saw tears in her eyes. "Harry... I remember," she grabbed her stomach and met his eyes. "You... you came and saved me."

Harry closed his own eyes. How could he tell her that it had to end? She was scared and fragile at the moment and she needed him. "Yes... I did but-"

"How did you do that with the lights?" she asked, watching the balls. They were still falling and the highest ones were about ten feet of the ground. "It's like a blizzard of magic."

"I don't know how I did it, I just did," he said quickly. "Listen, Padma, how do you feel?"

She frowned. "I feel...?" She pushed the cover son her bed back and lifted her shirt a little so her stomach was exposed. Harry cringed. There was a big purple bruise across her stomach and lower right side; there was also a scar about four inches long that ran across her skin. "It hurts a bit," she said.

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey," Harry said instantly and was off down the room before she could say anything.

He returned with the matron two minutes later and she immediately began checking Padma over. Her diagnosis was that it would be sore for a few days and she would be left with the scar.

"I'm sorry, Padma," Harry said quietly when Madam Pomfrey left.

"What for, Harry?"

"They took you to get to me... they hurt you to get to me...." Harry hung his head, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"Harry, it's-"

"No. Listen, Padma this isn't right."

"What are you saying?" she whispered.

"I think-"

"PADMA!"

Harry turned sharply as someone approached from behind him. It was two people, a witch and a wizard. The witch had shoulder length brown hair that was tied back into a ponytail and her eyes were deep brown. She carried herself quickly and had tears in her eyes. The wizard had grey hair that was receding a bit and he was about as tall as Harry was, six foot or so. He looked pale with worry. "Mum, Dad," said Padma.

"Oh, dear. How are you?" cried Mrs. Patil.

"I'm fine, Mum. Madam Pomfrey fixed me up fine."

"They told us you were asleep?" said Mr. Patil.

"I actually only woke up about a quarter of an hour ago. Harry was here, though."

Mr. Patil turned sharply and looked Harry up and down, seeming to notice him for the first time. Mrs. Patil did the same. "What do you think you're doing here?" asked Mr. Patil sharply. Harry looked up and opened his mouth but didn't say anything. "THIS IS YOUR FAULT?" he roared.

"DAD," screamed Padma. "Don't-" But it was too late, Mr. Patil wouldn't be stopped.

"We tried to tell ourselves she would be okay. That she would be fine seeing you. And now look what you caused."

"David...." said Mrs. Patil quietly.

"You could have got her killed, she almost did die-"

"DAD!" shouted Padma.

Mr. Patil stopped shouting and turned to his daughter. She was crying. Harry was painfully aware of the awkward silence in the room. Mrs. Patil was staring at him with tears in her eyes and Padma had them rolling down her cheeks. Though Mr. Patil seemed to be spent.

"Dad," said Padma quietly. "Harry didn't want this to happen, but it did. And when he found out he came and saved me.... you shouldn't be shouting at him, you should be thanking him!"

"What? But he-"

"It was my choice to see Harry, Dad. I knew there were risks but I accepted them."

Mr. Patil sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, he seemed to be out of argument. It was Mrs. Patil who spoke next.

"What happened to the Death Eater's who did this?" said Mrs. Patil angrily.

"Well I think I killed one of them," said Harry honestly. "The other two got away, Disapparated."

Mr. and Mrs. Patil seemed shocked. "Killed...."

"I heard something snap when he hit the wall; it was probably his neck...."

"What happened?"

Harry sighed. "He was using the Cruciatus curse on Padma. I disarmed him powerfully and his head hit the wall at an angle."

"The other two..."

"Like I said, they Disapparated."

The room grew silent and Mrs. Patil put her arms around her daughter. With a sigh Harry sat on the edge of the bed. About ten minutes later Parvati came in and hugged her sister. Harry took this as his que to leave.

Once he was outside he checked his watch, it was two thirty. Everybody was in lessons. Harry tried to think what he would have right now... it would be Charms. He didn't think he could face that right now. Sighing, he headed back to the common room. He knew it would be deserted and it would give him the perfect opportunity to think. Padma needed to be safe and to be safe she needed to be away from him, but how could he leave her when she had defended him so honestly against her own family. Harry sighed again; this was going to take some thought.

*****