Harry Potter Earns his Kleos

CHAPTER 02

It was nighttime again. Harry was intrigued by this mysterious note-writer. Whoever he or she was had to be bold, had to have known the risk of the note being intercepted, and had even summoned Harry's own owl to deliver the message.

He instinctively turned the paper over, searching for some type of clue. There, imprinted in the upper right hand corner, was the letter K.

Harry sighed and re-pocketed the note. He felt like he couldn't figure out anything these days. He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander over lists of things he knew that started with a K, but he was much more confused than when he started, and flopped down on the bed with a second, more exasperated sigh.

Things he didn't want to think about floated around in his mind. He wondered how the Diggorys were doing, and how Cedric may have been spending his summer holidays if...

Images flickered in and out of his head, and Harry started to slip away from consciousness, overcome with the memories.

If I hadn't made him take that cup with me... He thought to himself. I killed you, Cedric, I'm sorry.

Harry's throat tightened as he remembered that flash of green light, so terrible and so distantly familiar. An image of Wormtail severing his hand, the blood ... it was too much.

It wasn't until Molly Weasley thundered into the room that he realized he'd been screaming. He was snapped back into reality, away from the Tournament, and Cedric's lifeless body.

He was panting heavily, beads of sweat dripping down his face.

"Shh, Harry, it's alright, love," Molly soothed; stroking his hair and cradling him like a child. "Ron, run off and fetch me some of that sleeping drought your father keeps on the dresser."

"I killed him, I killed Cedric," Harry repeated aloud. He couldn't get that cold, high-pitched laugh out of his head. It was ringing in his ears so loudly that he covered them with his hands.

Molly Weasley looked so worried. Harry's mind did not understand where he was.

Bill entered the room {having just arrived} and saw Harry. He was still muttering that he'd killed Cedric. Bill tried to hold the shaking boy steady. Ron had returned with the potion, which Molly quickly snatched from his hands.

"STOP IT! STOP LAUGHING! I KILLED HIM!" he shouted, squeezing his eyes shut. Molly took this opportunity to shove a large dose of the potion into his mouth, and watched the boy lose his strength and fall back into a deep sleep.

Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes. "Poor boy, poor, poor boy."

"Is this the first time he's had an outburst? Dumbledore said to expect it, mum," Bill explained.

"I don't know," she whispered, her eyes glued on Harry. "Ron?"

"I dunno about nightmares. He hasn't slept much."

Fred, George and Ginny were standing in the hallway, knowing better than to disrupt. All the Weasleys were suddenly filled with such a solemn seriousness.

"Come on kids - bed," Molly finally said, ushering the flock of redheads out of the room. "Bill, write to Dumbledore on this, will you?"

* * * *

Harry woke up and groaned. His head was pounding, throbbing with pain. He didn't remember where he was for a moment, or what had happened at all. The sun was shining brightly into the room and he realized he had slept through a good portion of the day.

He had a faint recognition of Mrs. Weasley holding him as he listened to Voldemort - though that just didn't seem quite right. He lazily made his way down the stairs.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Harry questioned, a little timidly. Thankfully and miraculously, she was alone in the kitchen, drinking a glass of pumpkin juice. He was more than willing to bet a few Galleons that Molly had made Arthur take all the children out of the house for the afternoon.

"Oh Harry, are you alright?" She watched him worriedly as he took a seat at the table.

"What happened to me last night?" he asked, and her worried look seemed to deepen.

"I don't know, love. You were screaming about... Cedric. Please Harry, for your own sanity, your own piece of mind - don't blame yourself. It's not your fault," she said firmly, taking a hold of his hands. He looked away from her gaze, wondering what made her care so much.

"Molly's right, Harry," a soft voice concurred, making both Harry and Molly nearly jump from their seats.

"Albus! When did you get here?"

"Just Apparated in, my dear. Please, may I have a word with Harry alone?" Molly nodded and left the two, grateful that Dumbledore had decided to come.

"Harry, do I look guilty to you?"

Harry raised his head and looked up at him questioningly, trying to figure out what he could possibly be getting at. "When I learned what Tom Riddle had become, I couldn't sleep at night. He was my pupil, under my care, and since he lacked parents ... I felt that I failed him. That maybe I could have done something differently. I carry with me the guilt of all Voldemort's actions..."

"Put Professor, you're not responsible." Harry was suddenly aware of what Dumbledore was getting at.

"Nor are you for Cedric. When mankind sees no obvious understanding, they feel the need to place blame on someone. Good people - like you - always seem to blame themselves when they have lost control of a situation."

Harry nodded, truly understanding what Dumbledore was saying to him.

"Do we ... I mean, does the good side always win?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. "Let me put it to you this way, the lion cannot rule his land if the smallest snake refuses to follow him. Divided we fall, Harry, that's the way it has been forever, and that will not change." Harry was suddenly reminded of why he greatly admired the wizard standing in front of him.

"See you at Hogwarts, my boy." And with a quick pop, he was gone.

Harry decided to take advantage of the nearly empty house and went back up to his trunk. He removed the package and unwrapped it to reveal a golden box. It was encrusted with green and red jewels. Words written in a different language surrounded the border, but the most fascinating part was the cover. The top had a brilliantly carved picture of a lion and a snake, entwined. The lion had narrowed, angry eyes and had the middle of the snake's body trapped under its fierce claws. The snake, likewise, had its venomous, sharp teeth plunged into the lion's shoulder. Hadn't Dumbledore just said...? Could he possibly know Harry had the box in his possession? Had he possibly sent it himself?

Harry ran his hand over the amazing picture, and tried to lift the cover. He wasn't too surprised to find that it was locked. This was no ordinary box, and no ordinary way would serve in opening it. He placed it up to his ear and shook it gently - no doubt about it, there was definitely something inside. Another puzzle for him to solve.

* * * *

The last weekend of the holidays quickly arrived and the Weasleys plus Harry were meeting Hermione at Diagon Alley to pick up school supplies. Harry didn't enjoy his trip as much this year as he had in the past.

Mrs. Weasley was being extremely over-cautious, not letting even the seventh-year twins wander off on their own. "It's too dangerous!" And that was the end of that.

Harry had to admit that Diagon Alley looked quite deserted; Quality Quidditch Supplies lacked the massive group of children admiring the new Firebolt Turbo in the window. Parents were simply ushering their children in and out of stores as quickly as possible.

"This is creepy," Ron whispered, and Harry nodded.

"I don't think anyone knows what to do anymore, since the parting..." Harry commented, and his mind involuntarily wandered back to what Arthur had said about Hogwarts shutting down, knowing Ron was thinking the exact same thing.

"Come on Harry, we're meeting Hermione at Gringotts, I don't want her waiting alone." Ron's ears turned slightly pink at this, which caused Harry to smirk.

"Don't start," Ron pleaded.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry replied. It felt good to smile for a change.

Harry spotted her first, and was amazed at how much she had changed over the holidays. Her hair was longer, straighter, and softer - much as it had been done at the Yule Ball last year. Her choice in clothing had also matured, though she probably would have hit Harry had he dared to mention something about it.

"Ron! Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. She rushed over to them as soon as she saw them, and flung her arms around her two friends at the same time.

Their trio was finally complete again, and Harry was glad for it. Things always seemed to make the most sense when the three of them were together.

After a quick stop at Gringotts, they made their way to Flourish and Blotts to pick up their necessary books. Harry looked at Ollivander's as he passed, and oddly enough, the old man was staring at him through the window.

The two locked gazes for a moment, and Ollivander broke it by winking at him. He turned his attention then to a small first year girl in need of a wand.

Harry nudged both Ron and Hermione, his eyes still fixed on the wand shop.

"Does that girl look familiar to you?" he questioned, motioning to the first year.

The two shook their heads after following Harry's stare.

"Come on you lot, your books can't buy themselves!" Mrs. Weasley said, bringing Harry out of his trance and into Flourish and Blotts.

"Actually, mum, George and I found a way to..."

"Fred - don't tell me, the less I know, the better!"

Harry was grabbing his Standard Book of Spells Level 5 book when he heard Arthur mutter something under his breath. He quickly turned around, as had Ron and Hermione, to see what the fuss was about.

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic himself, had walked into the book shop, thronged with over-sized Ministry officials, who looked more like qualified bodyguards than anything else.

"Ah, good day, Arthur," Fudge greeted, albeit a little too warmly.

"Minister," Arthur acknowledged, nodding his head slightly. Mr. Weasley reminded himself of what had happened with Lucius Malfoy in the very same store, and was sure to check himself before continuing.

If there was one thing, however, that he couldn't stand more than a Malfoy, it was pure ignorance, and Fudge possessed plenty of that to go around.

"To what do we owe this fabulous visit, Minister?" Arthur decided on finally, instead of the million insults floating in his mind. Harry had to admit, Ron did get his temper from his father, though he was glad to see it could be controlled with time.

"Just to post a notice, is all," he replied, his eyes showing great amusement. "A notice pertaining to, as a matter of fact, the remaining students still willing to attend Hogwarts this term."

Harry felt his stomach drop, and Ron could only give him a look of support. He understood things would be much worse for Harry. Returning to live with the Dursleys without the promise of Hogwarts made double potions with Snape and the Slytherins look like a walk in the park.

Fudge removed a roll of parchment from the inside pocket of his robes, unfolded it, and cleared his throat.

"Effective on the first of September of the new school term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, any classes pertaining to the Dark Arts will be terminated. Any master teaching the subject voluntarily will be dismissed, and any student shall face expulsion. Furthermore, any student that notices any strange happenings at the aforementioned school should feel it to be his or her obligated duty as a member of the magical society to report it directly to the Ministry."

Harry let out the breath he had been holding, and almost snickered out loud at the futile attempts Fudge was making. Did he realize how absurd he sounded? He stopped short, the stern look on Arthur Weasley's face making him think twice.

"I have a list of books, Mr. Blotts, that are to be taken off the shelves that I feel are harmful to students and may give them the wrong sort of ideas, effective immediately," Fudge continued, handing the list over. The petite man removed his glasses, wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and replaced them back on his head.

"But Minister," Mr. Blotts started. "This contains most of the required readings on the Hogwarts supply list, are you trying to put me out of business?"

"That'll be all, Blotts," Fudge replied simply, still with that phony smile plastered on his face. He posted the notice at the door, and then he, along with the rest of his entourage, exited the store.

* * * *

The group left Flourish and Blotts with light loads this year. Harry and his fellow fifth years had emerged with a few books, mostly with titles like Predicting the Pleasant by Optima Futura, and Herbology is Your Friend by Leif Bushell. Fred and George had had their entire list restricted, and they seemed quite jovial that they wouldn't have to carry their trunks full of books.

Not Harry, however. While he wasn't nearly as upset as Hermione, who was on the verge of tears, ("I should have bought my books in advance, I don't know what I was thinking! Now we'll get to school, and I'll fall behind, and I'll never get a single OWL ever!"), he still felt somewhat vulnerable.

Something he had learned from Remus Lupin and believed whole-heartedly was that ignorance was your worst enemy. It is better to know dark magic and how to protect yourself from it than banning it completely. Magic was only evil when it fell into the wrong hands. Fudge had always seemed to miss that, and now he was putting the people he was trying to protect into direct danger. It was frustrating to think about.

"Tom Riddle thought the same way, at first," Someone whispered in his ear.

"Who said that?" Harry asked, whirling around. He was only half-surprised to find nobody there. Ron and Hermione looked at him with concern. He was getting slightly annoyed with the pity everyone was giving him lately, even his own two best friends.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Just don't," he replied firmly, and stayed silent the remainder of the trip back to the Burrow.

As soon as they reached the house, Ginny brought Hermione up her room to settle in, and Arthur immediately sat down to owl the Ministry, muttering about Fudge's impudence, impeding the children to learn, or something along those lines.

Molly Weasley just shoot her head a lot and baked - it took her mind off things.

Harry sighed, taking it all in, wondering when things suddenly started to go so badly.

"You up for a game of chess, Harry?" Ron asked hopefully. Harry agreed half-heartedly, knowing that this is what Ron needed to take his mind of the situation.

* * * *

Harry sighed at the irony of the situation. It was already the first of September, and he, Hermione and The Weasleys were at King's Cross Station, and Platform 9 ¾. His previous three summers were spent in agony waiting for the start of the term, and that, of course, had made it take forever. Now, with so many doubts and fears of what his fifth year would bring, he felt like the start of the term had sneakily raced up behind him.

"Harry, your badge!" Hermione reminded him before they boarded. Their notices of becoming Gryffindor prefects had arrived two weeks before, and he could have sworn he'd seen her polishing it more than once since she had received it. It was already pinned neatly on her robes. Harry hastily dug in his pockets for his and pinned the badge on.

"Please don't turn into the female version of Percy," Ron begged.

"Honestly, Ron, with the pair of you I've broken more schol rules than I'd like to count, so I doubt it would even be possible." At that, Ron breathed a sigh of relief.

"But I can try," Hermione finished with a smirk. "Come on Harry, let's go check out the Prefect cart. Ron, we'll be back!" she yelled, practically dragging Harry to the front of the train. To be completely honest, Harry had no intentions of going to visit the Prefect cart. He would have to face Cho Chang, and he couldn't imagine what he'd say to her. "Sorry about your boyfriend. I know I'm to blame for his death" didn't sound like a great conversation starter.

But the shock he received upon entering the cart was worse than facing Cho Chang: it was the fact that she wasn't there at all. A different Ravenclaw sixth year girl was sitting in her place. Just then, Arthur Weasley's words echoed on his head. "Parents in support of Fudge have been withdrawing their children, saying that Dumbledore is filling their heads with nonsense about You-Know-Who." Harry felt foolish. He had been so preoccupied with Hogwarts shutting down that he hadn't even stopped to wonder which students may have left. Now the thought plagued his mind. Would some of his housemates be gone? Roommates even?

"Figures you'd worm your way into being a prefect, Potter. Use your fame to get everything you want then?"

Harry's day had hit an all-time low.

"Well, you managed, didn't you?" Hermione shot back. "How much did that badge cost your father?"

"Watch it, mudblood," Draco Malfoy whispered menacingly.

"Oh come of it!" Harry blurted out, entirely agitated. Fighting with Draco Malfoy suddenly seemed so petty.

"Still think you're a murderer, Potter?" Malfoy smirked. Instead of Harry being angry, Malfoy witnessed the guilty look that passed over his face, and even Draco had the humility to know he'd gone too far.

"I'm going to sit with Ron," Harry muttered. Hermione followed. "Check to see if all your roommates are here, Hermione. Mr. Weasley said some students wouldn't be coming back this year. Meet you at the cart."

After a quick check, Harry realized with relief that Seamus, Dean and Neville were all accounted for. He rejoined Ron, and Hermione returned soon after.

"Well?"

Hermione sighed, and he could have sworn her eyes were a bit watery. "The Patils are gone. That Hufflepuff named Ernie. Cho..."

She said her name slowly, as if to test the effect it might have on Harry. Ron threw him an apologetic look. "And..." She paused again and Harry dreaded more bad news. The worry soon evaporated, however, because he looked up to see her smiling.

"And?" Ron pressed impatiently.

"Crabbe and Goyle!"

"You're kidding?! Alright!" Ron cheered. Why did Harry suddenly feel about a million times older than his two best friends?

"Something's not right. We know their parents are Death Eaters, they wouldn't be supporters of Fudge, it doesn't add up."

"Their parents could have botched up a job for You-Know-Who over the summer and now they're worried," Ron offered. Hermione was about to reply when the cart door slid open and a timid looking first year poked her head through.

"May I? All the rest are full."

"Of course," Hermione replied, smiling. Harry noticed she was the first year who had been at Ollivander's shop. By the looks on their faces, Ron and Hermione recognized her, too.

"I'm Harry and these are my two best friends, Ron and Hermione. We're fifth years. What's your name?"

"Aly," she replied simply before curling up on one of the seats and closing her eyes.

"Not much of a talker, I guess?" Ron said, shrugging.

The sweets cart came round, and as usual, Harry sprung for a little bit of everything. He opened the first chocolate frog and groaned when he saw the card.

"You again?" Ron guessed, laughing, and Harry nodded.

Soon after, the trio felt the train slowing down as they approached Hogwarts. Harry couldn't help feeling relieved; he was home.