A Debt Repaid

Chapter Five

Harry learned that very evening that he would act as one of the guards escorting the still-comatose Dumbledore back to Hogwarts.

He spent time with Ron and Hermione more than the others during the afternoon. Snape and Lupin had gone out to make arrangements. The meeting of the Order would take place without them at another location to prevent another incident like the one that had taken place at the Ministry of Magic.

Harry found Hermione alone in the drawing room. "Hermione?" She sat on a sofa, her feet tucked up, reading and looked up when he slipped in the room.

"Hello, Harry." Her face was calm.

"I wanted to apologize," he began.

"No, Harry, don't" She moved over on the sofa and patted the empty space with her hand. "Come over here and sit with me. We can both fit." They scrunched in with Harry hanging his legs over the end and dropping his head into her lap. "Yes, that's it." She smiled and brushed the hair from his forehead, her fingers lightly touching the scar. "Do you feel silly like this?"

He shook his head. Actually it felt very good. There had been very few times in his life he remembered the gentle touch of a woman. Hermione stroked his face. "I'm fine, 'Mione."

"Good. Then I want you to listen to me," she spoke softly. "You and Ron are my best friends. I love both of you with all my heart. 'Course I really love Ron, if you know what I mean." She rolled her eyes and said, "But we'll let him struggle with that for awhile before I let him off the hook." She giggled and Harry could feel her slim belly bouncing his head.

He closed his eyes and listened to her mellow voice, "What I mean is that I'm here for you. It seems that you are drifting away from us. That so much is taking place in your life; it's changing. And you're acting so different and not letting us in like you used to."

Harry opened his eyes and looked up, started to say something and felt the warm touch of her fingers on his lips.

"That's the way it's suppose to be," she said. "We're not children anymore and you more than anybody has more on their plate than the rest of us. I know you have to keep secrets. I know you have a horrible burden that you're carrying around. Something that you can't even tell Ron or me about and that's alright. I wish you could, because-it helps to share. But if you can't that's alright, too. You'll never lose my loyalty -no matter what." Harry could feel a warm tear drop from her cheek to his mouth. He could taste the saltiness. "Part of that burden is worrying about us and our safety. But we share the same worry for you, Harry," Her arm held his head. "Do you know what it was like when we thought you had died?"

Harry thought about losing Sirius and what it would be like if Ron or Hermione died. He nodded and swallowing hard.

"I just want you to know, that no matter what- even if we don't see each other for years and years, that my feelings for you aren't going to change."

Harry lay in her lap, his eyes closed and thought about the secret he was carrying; the prophecy. He knew he couldn't tell her. If she were captured and tortured, it would be to the ruin of them all. That was the burden he carried. It was always about taking care of the world, even if it meant sacrificing his friends. The choices he had were appalling and the thought crushed him. Harry reached around and buried his face in her stomach and pulled her in with his arm.

"'Mione!" he gasped, feeling the hot tears. "I can't tell you, I can't!"

"I know, Harry," she petted his head and rocked him. "It's alright."

Ron walked in and Harry stiffened.

"No, Harry." Hermione locked her arms around him. "Come here, Ron." Ron walked over and sat at the edge of the chair. He looked into Harry's anguished face and patted his arm nodding. The three held each other and cried together. And then, laughed.

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At ten o'clock the small group of four people and one sitting in a wheelchair made its' way down the street. Street lights suddenly and mysteriously went out as the group made its way down the sidewalk. Moody, McGonagal, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry escorted the wheelchair to the corner. Harry threw out his wand hand, and stepped back quickly. He'd already had a narrow miss with the Knight bus before and he didn't want anything to draw attention to them.

The group had considered alternative ways to transport Dumbledore. Since the Floo Network was part of the Ministry of Magic it couldn't be trusted after the break-in and massacre. They couldn't use brooms and they couldn't apparate.

Moody had taken Harry aside earlier in the evening. "Now, Harry," he said, his one eye rolling, "I have to know that you are ready to kill someone if they attack us. There can't be no hesitation. You must be willing to protect Albus with your life."

Harry felt irritated with the man. "I know that Moody."

"Ah leave him be, Moody," Shacklebolt said. He had arrived during the conversation. "I think that we can trust Harry to do what he needs to do. I think he's proved that already."

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The Knight bus arrived with its' usual roaring fury. Harry immediately stepped up and pointed a wand at Stan Turnpike, the self-proclaimed conductor of the Knight bus; a boy a year or two older than Harry.

"We won't be having any shouting or noise," Harry whispered. He kept his wand pointed into Stan's face and spoke to the driver, "I'll thank you to put out the inside lights, Ernie."

"Yes, indeed, Mister. Just point yer wand 'nother direction. There ya go, that's a good lad." Ernie watched wide-eyed as McGonagal waved her wand and settled the wheelchair down on the floor of the bus. His eyes grew even wider when he recognized Dumbledore.

"I think that this will compensate you for taking us directly to Hogsmeade," McGonagal said and dropped two galleons in Ernie's hand.

"Yes, ma'am. It'll do nicely." He tipped his head to her.

"Who else is on the bus, Stan?" Harry asked. Shacklebolt was already on the stairs to the upper levels.

"N'on' ," Stan stuttered, "Not else but you."

"Good, good," Harry muttered. He looked out the windows and gritted his teeth. Come on Shacklebolt, we need to leave! The streets remained empty and the streetlights seemed duller than usual.

"All's clear up here, " came the voice.

"Ernie," Harry nodded to the man, "let's go." Moody and McGonagal were busy at the back of the bus with Dumbledore. They had laid him out on one of the bed's that filled the Knight bus while Harry stood guard at the front.

They were off with a roar. Ernie's driving had not improved, especially because he was now nervous about his new passengers. The street lamps took one step to the right for at least two blocks before the bus picked up speed and passed through London.

"Let's pretend that this is an emergency, Ernie," Harry murmured. "Step on it!" The houses whizzed by and Stan freckled face grew even whiter as they trundled down the road at death-defying speeds. Harry had to hold on to a leather strap and the bus took corners on two wheels. Harry wondered how Shacklebolt was fairing, he was on the third tier. The bus flew across a wooden bridge, the sound was like thunder.

They crossed into farm land. Harry bent to peer out the front windows. He wasn't sure what he was suppose to be looking for but he knew that he could not let the driver slow down. They passed empty fields and rock walls; jumped past villages and through deserted landscapes.

"Can't we avoid some of these towns Ernie," Harry asked, raising his voice over the sound of the bus shaking and the engine. "Just a straight away to Hogsmeade?"

"Er, that's what we're doin lad. Jus' hang on and we'll be thar in no time," he jerked the wheel and a fence jumped aside.

Suddenly there was a burst of light and the sound of shrieking metal on metal.

The three-tiered bus swerved wildly onto tires that smoked from the strain. Harry held onto the strap and watched as beds and pillows went tumbling end-over-end in slow motion. He heard the driver give a slight huff and saw him slide past; eyes wide. Harry held on as the bus rolled. He found himself hanging in mid-air seconds before being thrown through a broken window to the ground below. He landed in soft mossy turf and rolled down an embankment.

With an ear-splitting screech the bus landed inches from his head, wheels spinning in the air. Smoke billowed as the curtains caught fire, and there was a strong stench from burning tires. The two upper decks had detached and were scattered down a long stretch of country road. It had happened in seconds.

Crawling up the embankment, Harry held his wand, still clasped in his fingers and pointed it at the direction of every noise. There was still a lot of noise; and darkness.

The moon was covered with drifting clouds and they were in a wooded area.

Dumbledore! I've got to find Dumbledore, were his first thoughts. He knew that a warm liquid was running down his face, but couldn't pay attention to it. His panicked thoughts were on the people that had been on the bus with him.

He crawled a few more feet and ran face first into a still form. White shone from the beard and hair. The rest was covered in a cloak. It was Dumbledore. Harry felt the body and put his head to the chest. The heart was beating and Dumbledore was breathing. He'd been thrown free of the bus too.

Harry could hear the raucous voice and the cold air that came in drafts towards him. His scar was burning as if a hot iron had been placed on his forehead.

Voldemort!

"Find them," it said. "Kill no one! Bring them to me alive."

Harry felt bile rising in his throat. He couldn't let himself and Dumbledore be caught. Hurriedly throwing his cloak over the two of them, he began to slowly pull and crawl back down into the gully he'd just rolled into.

"LUMOS," a figure at the top of the road lit the end of his wand. A light circled a small area. Harry could see the Dark Lord standing in the road.

He pulled and tugged on Dumbledore's clothing. Harry knew that he had hurt himself, he could feel his own leg smarting in pain. So it was with some difficulty that he pulled himself and the weight of the unconscious man along with him. The bush became denser and he could feel sticks and leaves sticking to his head, filling his mouth with dirt.

Can't let them find us, Albus. Harry wished he could wake the man. He could hear shouting and voices. The pain in his head was igniting his brain and he felt the cramping in his belly. I can't , I can't, he was thinking, pushing every thought from his mind and willing himself to not vomit up the contents of his dinner. And on he went, dragging both of them.

Harry pulled them under the boughs of a tree and gathered up leaves with his hands, piling them over the top of Dumbledore and then over himself. He lay listening to the dark. Harry estimated that he had crawled at least a hundred yards from the wreckage. He knew it wasn't far enough, but could do nothing else. He had no strength left to go further.

"We've got the black man and Moody, master," a oily voice said. It stood near the tree.

Voldemort's cold voice was also near, "Find the others." The rustling of feet told Harry they had moved away from his hiding position, but only feet away.

"If thee value thy life and the one who is with thee; thee will stay silent," a voice as soft a breeze echoed in his ear.

Harry had heard a voice similar to this one before. In his mad escape from the Dursleys he had lost himself in the woods and had been befriended by a Woodglen elf. Harry later learned that he escaped almost certain death. The wood elves, unlike their cousins the house elves, were fierce warriors and they hated humans. The elf that found and befriended him then had saved his life because he knew who he was. Harry wasn't sure that this elf would be so open-minded.

And yet, Harry also knew immediately when the elf put a Shielding Charm around them. All he needed to do was stay silent and make sure Dumbledore made no noise.

The same strange sensation that had occurred before in a similar situation; overtook him. He grew drowsy, the pain in his head receded and he let his head fall on Dumbledore's rising and falling chest and fell asleep.

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The woods came alive with the morning sunshine. The rustle of a squirrel woke Harry and he stared at it's swishing tail for a minute before coming completely to his senses. The squirrel chattered at him and ran up the trunk of the tree.

He realized that his head rested on Dumbledore's chest. Sitting up abruptly he bumped his head on the lower branch. Reaching up with his hand he examined Dumbledore's face and then gently felt his body. He seemed to be alright except for the infernal sleep that he remained in. Harry on the other hand knew that he had been injured in the crash of the bus.

His face was caked with a stiff substance and his hands were covered with blood. The leg of his trousers was torn to his thigh and he could see a long ugly oozing gash the full length of his leg. He wasn't sure but he also thought he'd hurt something inside. A sharp pain pierced his side. Pulling back the torn remnants of his cloak and shirt he could see a small hole in his side. It had bled profusely onto his clothes.

Harry lay, unable to move. It grew lighter and still he could not find the strength to pull himself out. He lay worrying about them. If he couldn't hide them, Voldemort would return in the night and they'd eventually be found. As he laid there, he grew thirstier and the day grew warm. Insects buzzed around the sticky blood coating his head.

He grew drowsy and slipped into unconsciousness, still holding onto Dumbledore's robe.

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It was the coolness of the evening air that woke him. Harry rolled to his side with great difficulty and looked out from under the tree.

"If thee value thy life, thee will not move until told to," a voice said.

Harry spoke the common greeting of respect in Romani, "Friend; May you always find peace in the woods, an arrow for your enemy and a friend in me."

Two large gray eyes suddenly penetrated the shade of the bough. "Speak thy name human. How does thee know the greeting words?"

"I am Harry Potter and this is Albus Dumbledore. We are friends to the wood glen elf, Verillieon. We thank you for saving our lives from the Dark One, the Kalo Beng," Harry rasped, his throat dry and burning from fever. He fell back on his back and gasped for breath. "Bring Verillieon."

"This one grows weak. He will die."

Harry heard the voice. It was so beautiful he thought it was singing. Darkness flooded in behind his eyes and he was no longer conscious.