Seo Gerecednis

Ron awoke from dreams of snogging Hermione to the sound of agonized screaming. Realizing the sound was coming from only a few feet away, he leaped out of bed and grabbed his wand from beneath his mattress. He didn't need to illuminate it; he could see Harry very clearly in the moonlight, and the sight drove a dagger of horror into his chest. Harry's face was stark white, save the red gashes down his cheeks where his nails had clawed at them. Froth flecked with blood foamed at the corners of his mouth. His pajama top was drenched with sweat and his bedcovers were tangled about his thrashing legs. His hands clutched at the sides of the cot, then reached up to struggle with some unknown terror constricting about his throat. His eyes, blank and unseeing, stared wildly into the unknown.

And his scar was glowing.

Ron reached out and gingerly touched his shoulder. "Har-Harry?" he whispered, his voice still hoarse from sleep and shock. Harry stilled momentarily beneath his touch. The screaming faded to a whimper. Then the hand that had been clutching at his throat seized Ron's wrist with a brutally vicious grasp and Harry's face turned toward him.

Terror surged through Ron as he found himself staring into a pair of red, reptilian eyes. "The boy is mine," issued a high, cold voice from Harry's mouth. "You can do nothing for him now."

Ron yelled as loud as he could as he struggled to wrench free of the monster that held Harry in its claws. He knew who it was, even though he'd never heard that voice before. Somehow Lord Voldemort had managed to penetrate Harry's mind and take possession of him. "Help!" Ron cried. "Someone help, please! He's got Harry!"

His bedroom door flew open and in burst his parents, Ginny, Luna and that new boy. "What is it, son?" his dad asked, rushing to his side. "What's happened? Who's got Harry?"

Tears of pain and fear streamed down his face. "It's You-Know-Who. I don't know how, but he's got Harry." He could see blood oozing from the marks Harry's nails left in his skin. "Help him!"

His parents gave each other a worried glance. Ginny ducked beneath Mum's arm to kneel by Harry's head and rested her palm across his brow. "He's cold as ice," she said. She brushed her fingers against his scar but jerked them back, as though they'd been burned.

"Mum...Dad...he's dying!" Ron pleaded.

He felt his dad's hand on his shoulder. "Molly, go summon Dumbledore." She nodded briskly and left, taking Luna with her. The boy came in and stood at the foot of Harry's cot.

"There's no time!" Ron said. "Can't you see what's happening to him?"

"I have no choice," his dad said, shaking his head sadly. "This is beyond my abilities. Dumbledore will come straight away. If anyone can help Harry, Dumbledore can."

"H-He'll be d-dead b-by th-then," Ron sobbed. He felt Ginny clasp his free hand and give it a squeeze. Harry continued to convulse, although the screaming, mercifully, had not resumed.

"I may be able to help," the strange boy said.

Ron looked up at him. "You? Help? How?"

"You must trust me." He pulled a wand from the pocket of his dressing gown. "May I try?"

"Ron?" his dad asked. "It's up to you."

He nodded mutely, unable to look at them. "Go ahead. But if anything happens to him...." He left the promise unspoken.

"Please stand back, Mr. Weasley," the boy said. Ron felt his dad move away, then heard the boy recite an incantation in a language he'd never heard before. He glanced up to see the tip of his wand glowing. Suddenly an enormous silver lion, its tufted tail lashing back and forth, erupted from the end of the wand. Ginny gasped.

"That's a Patronus!" Ron said, awestruck at the sight.

"Wait," the boy said. He resumed his incantation. The silver lion turned toward the sound of his voice as though it heard and understood him. Then, with a shake of its mane and a tremendous roar, it leaped on ethereal paws directly into Harry's chest and disappeared.

"Wait!" Ron cried, trying to climb to his feet.

"Ron, look!" Ginny said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Afraid of what he might see, yet compelled to look, Ron's gaze shifted back to Harry.

Though still clouded with pain, Harry's eyes--Harry's eyes, not Lord Voldemort's--looked back at him in confusion. Ron let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and his shoulders sagged, as though an unbearable weight had just been lifted from them.

Harry licked his cracked and bleeding lips. "Ron?" he croaked. "Ginny?" He tried to crane his neck to see her, but whimpered in apparent pain. "Mr. Weasley? What happened?"

"You were having a nightmare," Dad said.

Ron turned on him in unexpected rage. "That was no nightmare! I've seen Harry have nightmares before. This was something else--something much worse." He shook his head as he turned back to Harry. "I thought we'd lost you, mate. I thought you were a goner for sure. He had you." He knew he didn't have to say who.

The hand that had been gripping his wrist so tightly only a moment ago gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze before pulling away. "I...I thought I saw a lion in here," Harry said. "I...I think I still see it." His eyes darted around, blinking owlishly and squinting. Ginny set his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Thanks," he said, smiling weakly up at her.

"Ask him about the lion," Ron said, indicating the boy. "He summoned one wicked Patronus."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "What was that? I've never heard of a Patronus that could do what yours did."

"That was no ordinary Patronus," a familiar voice said. Ron lifted his head to see Professor Dumbledore standing at the foot of Harry's cot. He was shocked at his appearance; for the first time, Dumbledore actually looked old to him. "How are you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

Ron couldn't help himself. "He's just been possessed by You-Know-Who. How do you think he is?"

"Ron!" his dad snapped. Ginny just stared at him with wide eyes.

Dumbledore peered appraisingly over his half-moon spectacles at him, then turned back to Harry. "Is that true?" Harry swallowed, then nodded. Dumbledore's shoulders slumped. He looked at Dad. "You should have told me you were bringing him here, Arthur. You know he's not safe here, nor is your family when he's with you."

He hung his head, like an ashamed child. "I'm sorry, Albus. It's just that --"

Dumbledore raised his hand to silence him. "It's all right. What's done is done."

"Surely you don't blame us for what happened to Harry?" Ron asked.

"Of course not," Dumbledore said. "I know you have only his well-being at heart. But he is vulnerable to Voldemort, more so now than ever. Had I known in advance Harry would be coming here so soon, I would have set up additional measures to protect him--and all of you--from any attack Voldemort might attempt. I am deeply sorry that Harry had to endure such an ordeal at all, much less so soon after the events of earlier this summer. But," he continued, sinking gingerly to sit on Harry's cot and addressing the strange boy, "I am pleased to discover so quickly how right I was in selecting Peter for the exchange this year." The boy inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the praise.

Mum appeared beside Ginny as though she'd Apparated directly from the kitchen, a large, steaming goblet in her hand. "Ginny, dear, would you prop Harry's head up, please?" she asked.

Ron handed Ginny his pillow, which had been knocked to the floor when he'd jumped out of bed what seemed ages ago. She gently lifted Harry's head and positioned the pillow beneath his shoulders. "Thanks," he murmured.

"Here you go, Harry, drink this," Mum said, holding the goblet to his lips while Ginny supported his head. "It's a Restorative Draught. It'll help you feel better." Ron choked back a laugh at the grimace on Harry's face. He was all too familiar with his mum's homemade potions and the dodgy flavorings she used. Judging from the smell, this one had been laced with leeks.

Mum clucked her tongue as Harry drained the contents of the goblet and dropped his head back down with a disgusted grunt. "Ginny," she said, "I left Luna downstairs preparing a salve for these scratches. Would you be a dear and go see how she's doing?"

He could tell Ginny wasn't pleased at being dismissed and gave her a look of sympathy. "We'll talk later," her expression said. He nodded. "Sure, Mum," she said.

Dad closed the bedroom door behind her. "Peter," he said, "explain your Patronus to us, please."

"Yeah," Ron said. "What the bloody hell was that?"

"Ron," his mum sighed. "Please watch your language."

"Ron," Dumbledore began, ignoring her, "do you know what a Totem is?"

The word sounded familiar; he was certain he'd learned about Totems at school, but couldn't remember when or in what class. He strained to recall its meaning but came up empty-handed. Where was Hermione when he needed her? At last he shook his head in defeat. "No, sir."

Dumbledore gave him a slight smile. "A Totem is simply another form of Patronus. Many ancient peoples--of which Peter's tribe is one--have very close relationships with certain species of animals. These animals then become Totems, or the guardians and patrons of the people they share this relationship with. Peter's Totem happens to be a lion."

"But what about that-that --" He pointed at Harry, unable to summon the words to describe what he'd seen. "He--that Patronus--it actually jumped into Harry!"

"What?" Harry said. He sat up, although the sudden movement drained all the color from his face. He looked as though he might vomit. "Peter's Patronus is inside me now?" His hand clutched at his chest. "Can it--will it--come out?"

"No," the boy, Peter, said.

"But...does this mean it's no longer your Patronus?"

"No," Dumbledore said to Harry. "Peter will still be able to summon his Totem whenever he needs to, without revoking the gift he gave to you."

"I don't understand," Ron said. "How can Peter give Harry his Patronus, but still have it if he needs to fend off dementors or something?"

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "Harry, what does your Patronus look like?"

Harry furrowed his brow. Ron was confused as well; he knew Dumbledore knew what Harry's Patronus looked like. Why was he asking? "It's a stag," Harry said. "Prongs. It's what my dad taught himself to transfigure into."

"Good." Dumbledore nodded. "And yours, Ron?"

He hung his head in shame. "I dunno. I've never been able to conjure one." Someone, his dad, he thought, rested a hand on his shoulder. "Hermione's is an otter, though." He looked up at Dumbledore.

He studied Ron over his spectacles. Ron had the distinct impression he was being judged. He hoped he would not be found wanting. "Interesting," Dumbledore said. "I would not have expected that. On the other hand, otters are remarkably clever and resourceful little animals."

His cheeks warm, Ron glanced out of the corner of his eye at Harry. Harry grinned back.

"My point," Dumbledore said, "is that a Patronus is a manifestation of some aspect of your inner personality. A Totem, however, is the complete embodiment of a wizard's being. The lion you saw enter Harry wasn't just a symbol of Peter...it was Peter. Through his Totem, Peter was able to enter Harry's mind and fight off Voldemort."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Huh?" He looked at Harry, hoping to find illumination there, but Harry only shrugged.

Dumbledore sighed as though he were very, very tired. "Harry," he said quietly, "what is it like when Voldemort possesses you?" Everyone except Dumbledore and Peter sucked in a breath, but not at the mention of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. "What do you see?"

Ron watched Harry lick his lips and stare at the ceiling, his jaw clenched. He felt a gnawing dread in the pit of his stomach like he hadn't felt since last winter, after Harry had seen the attack on his dad. Was it starting again? Harry'd been in a good mood ever since he arrived at the Burrow yesterday; did tonight's attack mean the start of another year of battling his dark moods? Ron sighed. He couldn't tackle Harry's fury alone, not without doing irreparable harm to their friendship. He really wished Hermione hadn't gone to India. He hoped his fears would not be realized.

Harry's voice, when he spoke, was very quiet, very measured, scaring Ron with its flatness. He was accustomed to Harry yelling. "I...I see a snake," he said. "Nagini."

"That's correct," Dumbledore said. "That's because the snake is Voldemort's Totem. Go on," he coaxed Harry.

His hands balled into fists. "I don't actually see the snake...it's like I become it." Beside him, Ron's mum gasped. If Harry had heard her, he gave no indication. "The snake was in me...and I was inside the snake." He lowered his chin to look at Peter. "But tonight...tonight was different. There was a lion. It was inside me...and it drove off the snake."

Ron couldn't help noticing the way the blankets trembled where they lay over Harry, although the night was warm. "Professor Dumbledore," he asked, "has this happened before? Has You-Know-Who possessed Harry before tonight?" He saw his mum swipe her hand across her face and reached out to take her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Dumbledore nodded, although his gaze remained focused on Harry. "Yes," he said. "Voldemort took possession of Harry in June, at the Ministry of Magic." His shoulders sagged. "He tried to use Harry to lure me to kill him."

"Bloody hell!" Ron said. His mum sobbed quietly. "Is there anything we can do to prevent it from happening again?"

When Dumbledore looked up at him, his eyes were glistening. "Peter's Totem helped Harry break free, and it will always be with him should Voldemort try again. However, the best possible weapon is Harry's own mind. He must resume his Occlumency lessons when he returns to Hogwarts."

"No!" Harry said, struggling to rise.

"Yes, you will," Ron said, releasing his mum's hand and forcing him to lie back down. "I don't care how much you hate Snape, I'm not sitting by and letting what happened tonight happen again. And if Hermione were here, she'd say the same thing." He returned Harry's glare with one of equal ferocity. "She made me swear to watch over you. I'm not letting her down."

"Albus," Dad said, "isn't there someone else at Hogwarts who can teach Occlumency? If the antagonism between Severus and Harry is interfering with Harry's ability to learn, perhaps a different instructor would be to everyone's benefit."

Dumbledore rose carefully to his feet; to Ron's eyes, he seemed to have aged another fifty years since he arrived. "I'm afraid not. Harry must resume his Occlumency lessons, and he must do so with Professor Snape. I'm sorry, Harry, I know it's not what you would like. However, this year you will not be alone."

Harry turned his head to face Dumbledore. "Is someone else learning Occlumency this year?"

"Not exactly," Dumbledore said. He gestured toward Peter. "Peter has been undergoing training as a Legilimens as part of his wizarding education in Kenya. That is how he was able to help you tonight. He will continue his training under Professor Snape's direction this year. Professor Snape has agreed to train the both of you together."

Ron looked at Harry. "Might not be so bad, mate, having him --" he pointed at Peter "-- mucking about in your mind, instead of Snape."

"Or Voldemort," Harry muttered. "Not that I want anyone mucking about in my mind, to be honest."

"You need to learn to shield yourself from You-Know-Who," Dad said. He crossed the room to speak to Dumbledore. "What about before he leaves for school? Will Peter's Totem be of sufficient protection until then?"

"No," Dumbledore said. "I will need to set up defenses around your property to safeguard him for the next couple of weeks. You, Molly and Bill will also need to be on your guard. Now that Voldemort knows Harry is here, you are all at risk." He swept out of the room, Dad and Peter right behind him.

Ron turned back to Harry. He had rolled on his side, away from him, and curled himself into a tight ball. "Harry?" he said.

"Go 'way."

He looked up at his mum, still hovering at the head of Harry's cot. She reached down as though she were about to brush the fringe out of his eyes, then pulled back. "It's been a rough night, dear," she said, "for all of us. Why don't you let him sleep. You can sort everything out in the morning." Then she too left, with one last, longing look back at Harry.

Ron studied Harry for a long time, wanting to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn't come. He couldn't imagine what anguish Harry must be going through; it had been sheer torture for him just to stand by and watch, impotent to do anything to help his best friend. To live with the knowledge that the most powerful dark wizard in history wanted to see you suffer and die horribly...it must be unbearable. No wonder Harry could be such an insufferable wanker sometimes. Ron had promised Hermione right before she left that he wouldn't let Harry sacrifice himself to his inner demons. That had been her phrasing, "inner demons." He hadn't understood her then, but he did now.

His knees aching from having been on the floor for so long, Ron got to his feet with a groan and looked out the window. The moon had set and the first faint glimmers of dawn were on the horizon. He was exhausted. Judging from the faint snuffles coming from the cot, Harry was already asleep, or doing a good job of pretending to be so. Ron got back in bed, stuffed his wand under his mattress, and pulled the blanket up over his legs. His eyelids were so heavy. Just before sleep overtook him he murmured, "Sweet dreams, Harry."