Harry Potter and the Power Within

Harry Potter and the Power Within

Chapter 1: Dangerous Deeds

Harry lay in his bed fully dressed; still wearing the same clothes he had worn since returning to the Muggle world a week ago. Needless to say, he had neither shaved nor washed during that time. He felt dirty but couldn't care less. Three weeks: three weeks had passed since the one remaining person he could look upon as a parent had died, and Harry believed he was responsible for that death. Had he only not been so naïve to go to the ministry that day, had he only listened to Hermione when she had warned him that Voldemort might be playing on Harry's "love of playing the hero", than Sirius, Harry's godfather, would probably still be alive.

If he was honest with himself though (and Harry didn't bother a lot with honesty these days), he would have to admit that Sirius' death wasn't the only thing torturing him. That day, that fatal day which had changed Harry's life yet again, he had found out that he would either be murdered, or murderer, in the course of his life. If the prophecy he heard in Dumbledore's office that day was a true one (and Dumbledore for one didn't appear to doubt the fact), than he would either have to kill Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard ever, or live a much shorter life than he'd anticipated. Not that he cared though, because whatever life he would live would always be scarred by Sirius' death and the knowledge that only he could destroy Voldemort, therefore the wizarding community was relying on him.

Perhaps the worst thing about this was the loneliness: before now, his friends (especially Ron and Hermione) had always been around to help him with whatever difficulties he encountered, but he hadn't even dared tell them what the prophecy said, in case they tried to help him and got themselves killed. Harry didn't think he could possibly survive being the cause of more deaths.

Not that he considered himself solely responsible for his godfather's death. A lot of that responsibility, he decided, should go to Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Had Dumbledore told him he suspected Voldemort would try to break into Harry's mind, than he mightn't have so easily believed that Sirius was in danger, he might have suspected that it was a trap. He certainly would have put more effort into mastering Occlumency.

Harry ran his hand through his already messy hair for what must have been the hundredth time today; that same jet-black hair which had always looked out of control was now beginning to look just like Sirius' when he escaped from Azkaban. A pang went through Harry's stomach as he thought about his recently deceased godfather.

It wasn't only Harry's hair which looked out of shape however. He had always been short and skinny for his age, but had recently grown quite bit. The growth, though, was cancelled out by the fact that he hadn't eaten any meal of substance since Sirius's death, making him look skinnier than usual. His clothes were also extremely old and tattered, whilst he had smashed his glasses shortly after returning to Privet drive. He hadn't even bothered to attend to the resulting cut on his fist.

A knock, or rather a bash on the door signalled his uncle's awakening. Harry couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Are you in there, boy?" demanded uncle Vernon. "Come down immediately and help us cook breakfast for Dudley's birthday."

Harry felt the anger rise up inside him. He was not going to move, he hadn't moved for anything since returning to Privet Drive, and he certainly wasn't going to do so for his big bully of a nephew's birthday. Just thinking about Dudley made Harry want to puke: his cousin had retained his heavyweight boxing title, and as a reward his parents had decided to let him off the diet he had been following for three years now. As a result, Dudley was now even larger than ever (Harry thought "heavyweight" didn't do him justice) and still spent most of his time smoking or bullying kids three times smaller than himself.

And now his aunt and uncle wanted him to help make "Duddy's birthday" a successful occasion. And Harry refused to do so.

"GO AND GET STUFFED!" he yelled back.

Immediately the door burst open and a purple-faced uncle Vernon appeared in the doorway.

"What did you say to me, boy?"

Harry turned to face his uncle, but not before he'd pulled out his wand. He couldn't remember ever feeling so angry in his life.

"Get AWAY from me!"

"You can't use that ... thing on me, boy, you'd be expelled and you ruddy well know it!"

Vernon's face twisted into a sadistic smile as he realised that he had Harry cornered. But Harry didn't care any more about expulsion, he even welcomed it. Maybe that way his friends could live safely, without the constant fear of an imminent Voldemort attack.

"STUPEFY!" he cried, his wand still firmly pointed at Uncle Vernon, who immediately collapsed unconscious as the beam of red light issued from Harry's wand struck him squarely in the chest.

It was like being caught in a thunderstorm of loud "Cracks" as ministry wizards apparated all over Harry's bedroom. Only then did Harry realise the full consequences of his act. Not only would he definitely be expelled, but he would also have his wand snapped in half. Not that that would matter because his wand wouldn't be much use to him in Azkaban, or wherever the wizarding criminals were held nowadays. Harry was certain that attacking a Muggle would be enough to land him in prison. With a horrible sinking feeling, he realised that wherever he was sent, he'd be an easy target for Voldemort. And there was no way he was going to give up his life so easily.

Grimly, he realised that he had only two choices: either let himself be taken and face jail and in all probability being killed by Lord Voldemort, or fight the ministry wizards and probably be killed in the struggle. As far as Harry was concerned though, there was only really one choice, because there was no way he was going to die without a fight. He quickly realised that he couldn't just take on a dozen trained ministry wizards, but that if he could catch them unawares he might stand a bit more of a chance.

"Mr. Potter", said the nearest wizard to Harry, whom he recognised as being one of the wizards of the Wizengamot who had voted against him at his trial the previous summer. "I am Mr Burgess from the Wizengamot. You have yet again been found guilty of underage magic, this time magically attacking a Muggle without reason, which constitutes a breach of law 52.1 of The Protection of Muggles & Muggleborns in our community as well as a breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and another offence under Section thirteen of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy. The severity of the offence means you are expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry without appeal and will be deported to Azkaban to await your trial. Please hand over your wand".

Burgess held out his hand expectantly, and Harry walked up towards him, wand hand held out in front of him. He then felt the ministry wizards relax ever so slightly; they obviously thought this meant he was going to come quietly. Big mistake fellows!

"Stupefy!" yelled Harry, wand pointed straight at Burgess who didn't have time to block or dodge the spell. All of a sudden the room was alight with curses being fired in all directions. Harry dodged a couple of stunners sent by wizards on his right, and sent another of his own in return. But he was panicking: he'd thought the benefit of surprise would be greater, but the ministry wizards had reacted very quickly and now had Harry surrounded. He didn't need his own Weasley Clock to tell him he was in trouble, quite probably in "mortal peril".

He heard one of the ministry wizards revive Burgess, and knew he had made the wrong choice: he should have given himself up. Dumbledore knew how much he would be needed in the war and might have been able to save him somehow. How could he have been arrogant enough to think that he could take on five fully trained ministry wizards and somehow beat them? He had practically handed Voldemort the victory and condemned most people he knew (particularly Ron and Hermione) to suffer and probably even die.

At the thought of his friends Harry found renewed strength. Knowing he couldn't take them all on together while he was surrounded, he decided to erect a shield charm, dropping it only briefly to fire the one spell before putting it back up.

"Protego!" he yelled, but couldn't help notice the ministry wizard nearest to him had a confident smile on his face. Had he forgotten something crucial?

"STUPEFY!" shouted the five wizards in unison.

However, all the stunners rebounded off Harry's shield and a couple of ministry wizards were hit by ricochets. Far from confidence, Harry fancied he could definitely see fear in his adversaries' eyes now, as if the power of his shield alone had scared them. Taking advantage of the confusion, he managed to stun a couple of them before putting his shield back up again. Harry was beginning to tire though and he knew that his next attack would have to be his last one.

His thoughts still focused on his friends, he let his shield drop for what he knew would have to be the last time and put every ounce of his remaining strength into one last stunner. The room erupted with light, and Harry was surprised to see that his spell didn't look like any other he'd seen previously. Instead of taking the form of a laser beam, it looked like some sort of red mist. Moreover, despite the mist covering the entire room, it seemed somehow to sense where Harry was, because it just blended around him. The remaining ministry wizards appeared to have lost the use of their legs, though the strange form that Harry's spell took ensured that any attempt to dodge it would have been futile.

Harry was too shocked at first to take in what had just happened. When the extraordinary sequence of events finally sunk in, he realised that what he really needed was time to think, and maybe work out what steps to take.

There was no doubt in his mind that he was now better off than about quarter of an hour ago. Only slightly better, but definitely better off. For one, he had just defeated single-handedly five fully trained Aurors (Harry supposed they were Aurors), meaning that he would now be feared by the ministry. The pure cold-bloodedness of this thought didn't strike Harry: after all this was no game, it was a war during which he would have to play a big part if the right side were to win.

Dumbledore knew this, so Harry reckoned he could still rely on his headmaster's support, although considering Dumbledore's behaviour last year, Harry wasn't sure he wanted it. Still he had to acknowledge that if he was to get out of this situation, he would need his headmaster's help.

Although these ponderings helped make the situation clearer, they still didn't give Harry any clues as to what to do next. He figured he should at least revive his uncle, and thanked his lucky star that his aunt had gone to show Dudley off at a party, which had lasted through the night. He reckoned they would be back in less than half-an-hour though, and started to panic again.

Maybe he could go into hiding, either with the Order or at some remote place. That would undoubtedly mean being separated from his friends though, and Harry wasn't sure he could survive a whole year without them. It dawned on him that he was being selfish, and that maybe Ron and Hermione would be better off without him. They might even get together.

With all these thoughts swirling around his head, it was perhaps unsurprising that Harry didn't hear, or if he heard didn't take in, another loud crack; which would explain why he was so startled to hear a familiar voice say, "Hello, Harry".

Harry swung round so fast he lost his balance and ended up laid out on the uncarpeted floor of his bedroom.

"Well, well, well I didn't know my voice alone was enough to manage what five fully-trained ministry Aurors couldn't!" chuckled the man standing just in front of him.

"Professor Lupin?"

"Indeed, but there is really no need for the 'professor' anymore. As I recall, I haven't been your professor for quite a few years now, nor am I likely to have that pleasure ever again, so Remus will do fine"

"Right," said Harry as he did every time he didn't quite know what to say. "What are you doing here? I mean, it's not that I'm not pleased to say you, just that I'm surprised" he added so as not to sound rude.

"Well, Harry, to be honest your... ahem... exploits here have rather made the order panic, and we had to try to get to you before the ministry arrived. We were afraid, you see, that they may decide to enforce their new law by which they are allowed to snap wands and send to Azkaban without trial. However, it would appear that they have been... (Lupin looked down at the unconscious ministry wizards and paused once more) disposed of."

Harry forced an apologetic smile, but couldn't help being nervous. Lupin still hadn't mentioned what was to become of him. Did Dumbledore have enough influence on the ministry to sort something out, or would Harry have to go into hiding? He looked up at Lupin, who must have read the question on his mind, for he immediately said:

"There's nothing to worry about, Harry, it's all being taken care of."

Surprisingly Harry found this answer angered him. Maybe it was just a delayed reaction to what had just happened. Maybe he didn't want people to "take care of him" any longer, not since Sirius died anyway. Whatever, he really let fly:

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S ALL BEING TAKEN CARE OF? SO I STILL CAN'T TAKE CARE OF MYSELF, DESPITE ALL THE THINGS I'VE DONE, DESPITE JUST TAKING ON FIVE FULLY TRAINED AURORS ON MY OWN, AGAIN! BECAUSE NO ONE WAS TAKING CARE OF ME THEN, WERE THEY? NO, LET'S JUST LET HARRY DO ALL THE HARD WORK AND THEN NOT TELL HIM WHAT'S GOING ON. YOU MAKE ME SICK!!!!"

"Harry, I only..."

"DON'T HARRY ME! I COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED, I COULD HAVE GONE TO AZKABAN, BUT STILL ALL THE ORDER DID WAS TURN UP TOO LATE. I'M FED UP WITH IT! I WON'T STAND FOR IT ANY LONGER!!!"

Harry's voice was becoming coarse from shouting, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting all his anger out of his system.

His attempted interjection aside, Lupin had remained remarkably calm during Harry's outburst. Indeed, Harry at once stage subconsciously wondered whether he had been taking lessons from Professor Dumbledore in the art of letting Harry storm. Now, however, he spoke up:

"Harry, I am honestly sorry if you feel that way. I can assure you that the Order certainly wouldn't have just let you be taken by the ministry. In fact, Dumbledore himself was all for bursting in on the scene; I am sure he was every bit as angry as when the dementors attacked you at the Quidditch match ,and we honestly needed to restrain him from jinxing your uncle into obliviation.

"However, as you well know, Alastor Moody's beliefs are somewhat ahem... unorthodox, and he suggested we should see how you could handle yourself in a battle, so as to know what we could expect from you in the near future. Many of the Order's members disagreed, saying that we all knew you could duel pretty well, and that it was taking too much of a risk, but Mad-Eye got his way. Dumbledore trusts him, you see. I might add that although I couldn't see the fight, you must have done bloody brilliantly! Now let's take a look at who you've harmed..."

Harry was already feeling embarrassed by his outburst and hung back slightly as Lupin turned over the unconscious Aurors, muttering:

"Ah yes, Williamson, once took on three Death Eaters single-handedly and won, and here's Dawlish, one of the best around. Here's Smith... and Burgess, goodness me, they did send out the heavy load, didn't they? Hello, who have we here, why it's Corey Martin, I dare say. Harry, do you realise that these are five of the most powerful Aurors the ministry are currently employing?"

Harry didn't know this, and he was glad he hadn't known before the battle. He was sure he couldn't have managed to face the wizards quite so fearlessly had he realised they were the elite.

"But I mean," stammered Harry, "I just used simple spells, I mean I didn't use advanced magic or anything."

"Didn't you?" questioned Lupin sharply. "What spells did you use?"

"Well, professor Lup..., I mean Remus," he added hastily as Lupin gave him a piercing look, "I just stunned them really, and erected a shield charm."

"That's very interesting Harry. Ah well, Dumbledore always said 'the simplest magic always works best, because it is what we have always practised the most', but to be honest, I thought that was just Dumbledore being Dumbledore, if you know what I mean."

Harry laughed at that very apt description of his headmaster, and was starting to feel better. Maybe he just needed company again.

"Now, unless I'm very much mistaken, We have approximately twenty minutes before your aunt and cousin return from their night party, so why don't you go and have a nice hot shower and then shave, while I sort things out down here?"

Harry nodded his agreement, and headed off to the bathroom, leaving Lupin to arrange matters in his bedroom (basically, let him sort out the mess for a change). As Harry let the hot water wash the dirt off his body, he felt like he was being born again. It was like all his bad feelings, all his bad temper was being washed away. Obviously Harry still felt angered about Sirius' death but he knew he had to push that anger aside, for now anyway.

When he had finished, he dressed and returned to his room. There was no further sign of the ministry wizards Harry had fought off, whilst Uncle Vernon had obviously been reanimated and obliviated, for he was chatting quite cheerfully with Lupin, something he would never have done had he known who he was.

"Ah, there you are Harry!" Lupin turned to face Vernon. "Well, I must really be getting going. Be good now, won't you?"

"But Remus..." Harry started.

"Harry, you will receive note from your friends shortly, but until then I want you to be patient, and not to do anything rash, is that understood?"

Harry was strangely reminded of Professor Dumbledore, when Lupin said this, but thought no more of it. He nodded his agreement to his ex-professor, who saluted Uncle Vernon cheerfully and Disapparated with a loud "crack".

Meanwhile, Harry turned expectantly towards his uncle, who looked at him with a puzzled frown on his face.

"Weren't you supposed to be going out for the day?"

Harry couldn't quite suppress the grin which came to his lips. Apparently, his uncle hadn't quite regained total use of his memory yet, and Harry was determined to take advantage of the fact.

"Quite right, I was just going now," he said, crossing his fingers. He could have the day off, go to the movies (he had saved just enough money for one film), or just lounge around under the hot sun.

"Well, off you go then."

Harry couldn't believe his luck. He skipped out through the doorway and all the way to the cinema. When he returned that evening, he found he was as joyful and happy as he'd been for ages. The memory charm Lupin had submitted Uncle Vernon had eventually worn off, so Harry decided not to linger and to go straight off to bed. He fell asleep almost before his head hit the pillow, which unfortunately meant his thoughts were still swimming around in his head, leaving him wide open to an eventual Voldemort attack.

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