Redemption

Chapter Thirty-Four:

Blinking his eyes open, Harry realized that daylight hadn't broken yet. He frowned, wondering what the time was. After all, he'd gotten to bed very late and had no idea how long he'd been dreaming before waking up the first time.

Carefully getting out of bed, he walked over to the window, looking out. There was a line of pale dawn, far on the horizon. It must have been very early, but there was no way he was getting back to sleep. Harry was awake for good now.

As he stood in front of the open window, he shivered, the rapidly cooling winter air freezing his flesh. But that wasn't all. A shudder ripped through him, not only from the cold, but from a bundle of emotions in one. Fear, anger, disgust... He shuddered again.

Somewhere out there, Voldemort was plotting Harry's death and the downfall of all things Muggle. Somewhere, Lucius Malfoy was hiding from the Ministry; his ruined face was probably twisted in a grimace.

Absently, a part of Harry admired the man. He'd taken the Cruciatus curse very well. Though, as a Death Eater, he was probably used to it.

No... Harry couldn't imagine ever becoming used to the Cruciatus curse. He couldn't imagine learning to ignore pain so great that death seemed pleasurable.

As he shuddered again, Wufei's arms wrapped around him. "You'll catch a chill."

"I was just thinking," said Harry, still staring blankly out the window. "Wufei... What Hermione said last night...? She - she isn't the only one." Leaning back against his lover, Harry continued to watch the thin line of gold rise a little, followed by a stretch of blood red. "I'm afraid." Wufei said nothing, just held him. "Dumbledore told me why Voldemort wants me dead. A prophecy says that one of us is destined to kill the other. One of us must die, and I don't think it will be him. I can't beat him. It's just a matter of waiting until the final showdown. Dumbledore must know it. One of us must die, and how am I, a 16 year old student, supposed to kill the most powerful dark wizard of the century. I... I just wish I could be a normal guy. I wish I could be Seamus Finnegan in blissful denial. I wish... I don't know. Right now, I feel like... like any day could be my last." He fell quiet for a long moment. "Whatever happens, knowing that I met you, that I found you... it makes everything worthwhile. I love you."

Wufei still didn't speak, but rested his chin on Harry's shoulder. The Gryffindor was surprised to feel several tears splash onto his skin. They stood there for some time, watching the sun rise, and, without another word, headed down into the common room once the last remnant of night had vanished.

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When Hermione stumbled blearily down the stairs in the morning, she was surprised to find Harry, Wufei and Ginny sitting in a corner of the common room, the only people still hanging around.

Concerned, she made her way over to them. "What's going on?"

"Ron will be here in a moment and then I'll explain," Harry told her tiredly. He looked as though he'd gotten less sleep than she had.

Seating herself on the floor, Hermione watched the boy's staircase for Ron. Soon, he appeared, dressed for the day, but with tousled hair and sleepy eyes. "What's up?" he mumbled, stifling a yawn.

"I had a dream last night," Harry began.

"So?"

"Oh, no... Was it one of those dreams?" Hermione asked, her mind clicking into gear. She tried very hard to ignore the memories of her own nightmares. "What happened?"

Harry related his dream to them, shuddering again when he reached the part involving the Cruciatus curse. "Mr. Malfoy looked awful," he said quietly. "His face was a mess."

"Don't tell me you feel sorry for him!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione shot a glare at him. Several first years were climbing out through the portrait hole.

"Of course not, I'm just tired of... of petty arguments and grudges. I don't feel sorry for him, but I do pity him." Harry stared coldly at the ground, his arms wrapped around himself.

"You should go to Dumbledore about Occlumency," Ron suggested.

"I know."

"It's no use," Ginny muttered. "I wanted to speak to him the other day but Professor McGonagall said he was far too busy. She said he isn't even in the school half of the time these days."

"He'd make time for you, Harry," insisted Ron, frowning.

"I shouldn't bother him. I have to see Snape after class today, anyway. I'll ask him directly." Though a sour look had passed across Harry's face, he tried to mask it by squaring his shoulders.

"He couldn't refuse." Hermione wasn't sure whether she was trying to convince Harry or herself. "This is too important."

"He won't refuse," Harry told her. "He'll just make me absolutely miserable for asking. It's worth it, though." Harry looked around at them all. "I won't risk endangering anyone else."

Hermione wanted so badly to hug him at that very moment, but she held back. "Harry... You know it isn't your fault..."

Harry didn't answer; he went back to staring at the ground.

A silence fell over the group. Everyone was caught up in their own thoughts.

Unbidden, Hermione's latest nightmare flashed before her eyes and she tried to push it away, automatically drawing Ginny against her. She was beginning to get a little paranoid. Her dreams were so vivid. Night after night she saw horrible things happening to her friends. She saw them die, she saw them tortured, and she saw them broken and derelict. It frightened her beyond belief, because she knew that these things were all possible and even likely. With Voldemort's return, nothing was certain.

"You know, I've been so pre-occupied this year that I never noticed how quiet Dumbledore's been. Not just Dumbledore, but the daily prophet, too. What, with Sirius and... other things to distract me, it didn't even occur to me that what happened at the Ministry has been completely covered up," Harry said quietly, bringing all of them back to reality.

"It's like I said last night, the Ministry is making a mistake. They must think that it's better to hide the truth from people than to have them panic, but what good is it if no one is prepared?"

Another silence...

"Let's go down for breakfast, okay?" Ginny said hopefully, attempting a cheery voice.

Though none of them had much of an appetite and they all knew it, they all smiled, just a little.

"Sure," Harry agreed, pushing himself to his feet.

He held out a hand for Wufei, then one for Ron. As a group, they headed down to the Great Hall.

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The lesson had been miserable. As expected, Snape had taken every possible opportunity to taunt Harry in every which way. By the end of the lesson, he was about ready to drop the idea of resuming Occlumency entirely. Then, the thought of his friends came to mind, and Harry felt himself deflate. No matter how much of a bastard Snape was going to be, he had to swallow his pride this once.

As the rest of the class exited, Harry approached the Potions Master's desk. "Profe-"

"I don't want to hear it, Potter. You will arrive sharply at 8:00 twice a week for the equivalent of a month, resuming after the Christmas Holidays-"

"Done, but, I have something more important to ask you." Snape narrowed his eyes. "Sir... Please don't say no just for the sake of it. This... this is important. I-"

"Get on with it, Potter."

"I want to take Occlumency lessons again."

Snape was silent for a very long moment, making Harry shift under his gaze. "You've had another vision?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry answered quietly.

"Well?" Without further prompting, Harry told his dream once again.

"I see..." A malicious grin spread across Snape's face. "Decided to take things seriously now, have you? Come crawling back. I'm deeply sorry, Mr. Potter, but-"

"Please!" Harry pleaded desperately. "I don't want to lose anymore of my friends!" Again he felt tears in his eyes, tears of frustration. Snape just had to agree, how could he not? He'd be putting people other than Harry in danger. "You must think it's a right laugh! Sirius being dead and all! I'll bet you're ecstatic that it's my fault!"

For a brief moment, Snape looked shocked, and then a look of fury swept across his features. "Dry your eyes Potter," Snape snarled. "If only your adoring fans could see you now, weak and pathetic." The Potions Master stood, gathering papers. "We will resume Occlumency lessons, but if you ever lose your temper with me again..." the sentence trailed off, sending a shiver up Harry's spine. "After each detention will be an hour of Occlumency. Now get out before I change my mind."

Humiliated, infuriated, pale and shaking, Harry made his way from the room, collapsing against a wall when he was out of the way. He took several long, slow, deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He hadn't expected that to go well at all, but it had been far worse than he'd imagined.

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Zechs had been surprised to say the least when five teenagers approached him between classes at lunch. Quatre, the blond one, had acted as spokesman.

"We figured you'd be the most likely to know, apart from Dumbledore, but can you think of somewhere we'd be able to test our guns?"

Of course, why hadn't he thought of that? Guns might not work in the wizarding world, he didn't know of anyone who'd ever tried. "That depends. Mind if I come along?"

"Why not? The more the merrier," the same boy replied, although a couple of the others shot him glares.

"Then follow me," Zechs told them, leading the way to the room of requirement. As they went, he explained that he knew of the perfect room where Harry had held DA meetings last year. Walking back and forth in front of it three times, he imagined silencing seals around the door, ear muffs and targets inside, and a little obstacle course. He was interested in seeing just how good these boys were first hand. Pushing open the door, he beckoned them all inside. "Welcome to training heaven."

"Woah! Where did all this come from?!" Duo exclaimed.

"This is the room of requirement, walk in front of it three times imagining whatever it is you need, and it will appear."

"I have got to try that!" Duo made to walk out, but Trowa, the tallest one, grabbed the neck of his robes. [They had all taken to dressing in wizarding attire, except for the Chinese boy who was already known as a Muggle within the school.]

Heero Yuy - a.k.a. grim-face - pulled out his gun right away. He aimed at a target and shot the bull's-eye, right in the middle of the dummy's forehead.

Everyone winced, the sound of the shot reverberating off the walls and ringing in their ears.

"That's why we have ear muffs," Zechs pointed out, indicating a table to their left.

"Whatever, I've done what I came for." Heero's gun disappeared back to the nothingness it came from.

Duo heaved a sigh. "Well, that was rather boring... we came all this way, can't we at least fire off a few shots? My trigger finger is itchy," this last was shot at Zechs.

"How about a demonstration?" Zechs asked, nodding towards the area he'd imagined especially. There were pop up targets everywhere.

"I bet you'd just love that," Duo muttered in a low voice, though it was clearly audible.

"I just want to see what I've been fighting against all these years."

"So you can run back to your boss with juicy tendrils of gossip?"

"No, so I can figure out whether you're any use, or if my men were just clumsy."

"If they were it's because they were trained badly. What kind of idiot would send people out to die?"

"Now listen here-"

"ENOUGH!"

Both of them froze, inches apart. Quatre was glaring at them, his arms spread wide. "Duo, if Dumbledore trusts him, then we should, too."

Icily, Duo turned back to Zechs. "You don't understand, Quatre..." There was a long pause. Then... "He killed Meiran. Personally."

Zechs' mouth dropped open. His mind slowly turned back several years. Meiran. That had to be the girl... The one he'd been ordered to torture and kill.

"What?" Wufei had asked sharply, going pale.

"Your little lap boy Otto let it slip." Otto? Duo... had been the one to kill him... for revenge?

"Duo," Heero said warningly. "Stop. It doesn't matter now."

"The hell it doesn't! He-"

"Did his job and we did ours."

"But-"

"Duo, stop it." This time Wufei had pitched in. Zechs turned to look at him. The Chinese boy was glaring at both of them.

"Wufei, you of all people should-"

But he cut off, Wufei was shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. That was then and this is now. Zechs - Milliardo - is on our side this time. He's a different person. We all deserve the chance to change. Just, let it go. Please. Right now, there are more important things than revenge and anger."

Duo sniffed haughtily. "Got anything to say?" he aimed back at Zechs.

He had hoped that putting aside their differences would be much easier, but apparently not. Zechs looked Duo straight in the eyes. "Don't expect me to apologize. I'm trying to make up for past mistakes, but I refuse to ask forgiveness for my actions. Before you try to shoot me, though... I was ordered to torture and kill a girl, but I wouldn't do it. So, Treize sent someone else. I'm not a cold blooded murderer, no matter what you may think."

"A likely story." If looks could kill...

"Duo," Trowa sighed exasperatedly. That's enough, just drop it. There's no point in holding petty grudges."

"If you'll excuse me," Zechs said curtly. "I have a class to teach soon." He turned and walked out the door, planning to pay Lupin a quick visit. Despite his tough exterior, he felt his knees shaking and his heart thudded in his chest. He hadn't killed Meiran, but there were plenty of others with friends and family who had loved them, plenty of blood stained his hands. Suddenly it seemed to weigh him down, perhaps he could never redeem himself... Perhaps he'd sunk too far... It didn't matter. He would still do all he could to protect his world and Harry Potter - and those five boys, too, if he could manage it.