Harry Potter and the Ancient Secret of War

Chapter Seventeen

Isle Amidst the Storm

Lord Voldemort turned to Harry and hissed, "Now Potter, tell me the truth..."

Silence invaded the entire surrounding there as Voldemort looked into Harry's eyes and Harry defiantly looked back into his. It was the calm before all hell broke loose.

Before Harry could speak anything, sounds of Apparition resonated through the village. Harry saw Order members Apparating into Hogsmeade. Right next to Harry, the sound of Apparition revealed the figure of Albus Dumbledore.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed on seeing the new arrivals. Except that, his face didn't betray any sign. Neither side made any move to start the battle. It was as if both were waiting for the other to strike the first blow.

Dumbledore was the first one who spoke. He said, "It was an ingenious move, Tom - attacking Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley on the same day. Attack the enemy from both sides and stretch his resources, isn't it that one?" It was as if they were sitting back in a Hogwarts classroom of fifty years ago and Dumbledore was taking Tom Riddle's class.

"You made a mistake coming here, Dumbledore," Voldemort said. "You are outnumbered."

"Outnumbered, yes, Tom," Dumbledore said, "but not outwitted. For one, I know that numbers don't hold significance in a battle. I don't think you would have forgotten that lesson."

"You know nothing, Dumbledore," Lord Voldemort hissed and spat at the old Headmaster. "I have moved on beyond your comprehension."

"The basic moves of war still remain the same, Tom," Dumbledore responded. "You can only fashion them to your whims but you can never claim to make them. You cannot take so great a claim and place it on one mind. I hope you've not forgotten the text."

"The text was all false," Lord Voldemort said, "All it was good for was to learn how to acquire power. And now that I have got it, I do not need it. You cannot imagine what I can do with absolute power."

Dumbledore responded, "Neither do you, for you do not have absolute power yourself."

"You talk too much Dumbledore, even as you act too slowly," Voldemort said and with a lightning fast move, shot a Killing Curse at Harry. But Dumbledore was equally quick. He used his own spell to push Harry out of harm's way.

"If you have to get to Harry, you'll have to face me first," Dumbledore said.

"Why Dumbledore? Why? Why is the boy so important?" Lord Voldemort said, "What does he mean to you?"

"That is for me to know and you to find out," Dumbledore replied grimly. And then the duel began in right earnest.

Voldemort shot a Killing Curse at Dumbledore, but with a flick of his wand, Dumbledore had it intercepted by a large rock which had rested nearby but was now shattered into a thousand pieces. It seemed to Harry that the fateful night at the Ministry last June had now returned again, since he could still see shades of that duel in the present one, as if it were the latest instalment to an unresolved argument.

"You cannot kill me, Dumbledore," Voldemort hissed as he shot another Killing Curse at the old Headmaster.

"I don't intend to, Tom, as you should very well know by now," Dumbledore responded. "First, you need to feel the pain and punishment destined for you before you die. Killing you would give you a respite from all that." Harry wondered vaguely for a moment at this statement but being in the middle of a full-fledged battle, he realized that he had no time to stop and think.

The exchange between Dumbledore and Voldemort proved to be the orders that both sides were waiting for, almost like a catalyst to an explosion. Fighting erupted on both sides as spells were cast by all present. The Dementors swooped amongst the duellers targeting the Order members. Harry realized that with Dumbledore duelling Voldemort and the remaining Order members engaged in the peripheral battle, the Dementors were free to choose and then feast upon their prey.

He quickly moved out of the line of fire and shouted, 'Expecto Patronum!' The Patronus did its work as the Order members became immune from the terror of the Dementors. They were now filled with greater zeal.

"Harry!" he found a voice shouting to his right, "Get out of here!" He saw Lupin telling him as he engaged himself in fierce combat. "Get out of here now!"

Harry did as he was told and ducked and swooped from under the Duellers avoiding them. Then he noticed a circle of Death Eaters battling a lone Order member, who was standing in their midst. Harry jumped into the fray and took out a couple of those Death Eaters. He realized that Order member in question was Mad-Eye Moody. Even with those two out, Moody still had a ring of Death Eaters surrounding him. But true to his lunacy, he seemed to be enjoying the duel, not withstanding the fact, that it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to hold his ground.

Harry Stunned a few more Death Eaters around moody so as to lighten the ex-Auror's load. But seeing him, Moody shouted, "Potter, what are you doing here? This is no place for a kid."

Harry was sure that he was seeing him through his magical eye, which must be seeing out of the back of his head, since Moody's back was turned to him. Harry had a good mind to tell Moody that he wasn't a kid and was also the first and only person to have begun fighting the Death Eaters here, but Moody was distracted by the challenge posed by another of the enemy.

Suddenly though, Harry felt himself being rammed to the ground as a Death Eater fell over him. Harry was about to roll him over and get up when the cold voice of Severus Snape spoke up, "Get out of here, Potter. Here's a portkey that will transport you to Hogwarts. And don't linger here. The Order is only waiting for your exit."

In the thick of the battle, no one noticed this exchange. Harry scrambled onto his feet, the portkey safely kept in his pocket and made his way towards the refuge of Honeydukes. He knew it could prove potentially dangerous to use the portkey in the midst of battle since you never know who might latch on to you.

Soon, Harry left behind the thick of the battle and neared his destination. But he suddenly saw a shock of brown hair in front of him. He knew who it was. It was Hermione. She was duelling with a Death Eater, and was doing okay. But suddenly, she tripped heavily against a stone and fell to the ground. The Death Eater, now in complete control, directed his wand at his fallen opponent and fired the Killing Curse at her. But suddenly, he found the curse being blocked by a barrel, which in turn, shattered on being hit with the sell. Harry had seen Hermione's dilemma and come to her rescue.

He took the onus of the duel upon himself even as Hermione tried to get up. Finally, he succeeded in Stunning his opponent, and rushed to her side. She was sitting on the ground, clutching a very painful ankle.

"Harry, I think...I think my ankle is broken," she told him.

"Don't worry," he said, "Let me help you out of here."

"Harry!" Two voices called out to him from nearby.

Harry looked around to see Ron and Luna running towards them. A Dementor tried to intercept their path but Harry's Patronus took care of it.

"Ron! Luna!" Harry said as they came, "I thought I told you to go back to Hogwarts."

"That you did," Luna answered, "But we didn't promise we would."

"I'm really sorry, mate," Ron began, "I should really have listened to-"

But Harry cut him off. "Look guys," he said, "This isn't the place to talk. There is a battle going on, for God's sake. Let's get out of here."

"How can we do that?" Luna asked. "Hermione cannot walk, can she?"

"Don't be silly," Harry said, "We are going to use a portkey." He fished out the portkey that Snape had given him from his pocket and the four of them placed their fingers on it. The Portkey was a broken wooden spoon.

"It'll activate any second now," Harry said. Suddenly, Harry felt something coming at him from behind. He turned his neck around to see a Stunner being directed at him. Suddenly, it hit him and the last thing he knew before losing consciousness was a jerk behind his navel.

* * * * *

"Am I dead?" Harry asked into the air, to no one in particular. He opened his eyes to find himself in a very well-lighted room, bright sunlight reflected from all the walls and the ceiling.

"Of course, you aren't dead," came a vaguely familiar voice from his right.

Harry scrambled for his glasses. A hand offered them to him and instantly, even as he wore them, the world came back into focus. He looked to his right to the owner of the hand, and his eyes very nearly dropped out of their sockets as he nearly fainted at who he saw, "Dad!" he croaked. James Potter nodded.

Harry looked around himself. He was lying in a large bed in a brightly ventilated bedroom. Wardrobes and shelves lined the walls. The wallpaper showed the posters of an unfamiliar Quidditch team named the Rochedale Rovers. The players were waving about at Harry as he watched them intently. To his right, there was a chair on which sat James Potter.

"Dad!" Harry exclaimed again, disbelieving his own eyes. James nodded once again. There was a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips and amusement in his voice.

"But...but...this cannot be...You...You died," Harry stammered.

"Indeed, I did," James replied, getting up from his chair and walking to a nearby window. "I am still dead," he said as he looked out.

"Then am I dead?" Harry asked.

"No, I already said you're not dead," James replied.

"Then how...how are you here?" Harry asked, getting up from the bed and joining his father at the window. It looked out onto a large, beautiful garden outside. Sprawling lawns, great, tall trees and beautiful flowers, from primroses to bluebells to violets could be seen from the first floor window where they were standing at.

"It's just an illusion, Harry," James explained. "I don't know how it came to be or in what form. All I know is that I found a shadow of myself getting called back from the Realm of the Dead to the Realm of your mind. I'm just an echo of my real form. It is just an illusion."

Harry heard the door to the room creak open and looked around. Standing in the doorway was his mother. Harry looked at her, and once again realized that why so many people who had known her were quick to tell Harry the fact that he had her eyes. Because, Lily's eyes were the most expressive features of her pretty face, as he now saw on her smiling countenance.

"Well, you are finally awake then?" she said lovingly, her eyes sparkling at her son.

"Mum?" Harry said, his eyes widening at the sight of her alive and walking.

"Yes, of course," Lily said, "Don't you recognize me when you see me?"

"But...you were...are you alive or is this another illusion?" Harry asked.

"Everything is an illusion here, Harry," Lily explained. "This is the Realm of your mind and you are trapped in it. How this illusion began weaving yourself into its web, we do not know. But this is the world as you want it to be, as you envision it. That's why you are seeing us here. Because you are inside your own mind, held as a prisoner."

* * * * *

Hermione looked at the prostrate form of Harry lying before her. Tears sprang up in her eyes as she noticed him lying peacefully on a bed in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was hustling and bustling all around him, giving him a thorough check-up so as to determine the source of his current predicament.

The four of them - Harry, Hermione, Ron and Luna - had landed in front of the Entrance Hall. Three of them had landed properly but Harry's landing had been a different matter altogether. His limp body had slammed firmly into the ground. They had rushed over to Harry to find him unconscious. Guessing correctly that he had somehow been stunned, Hermione enervated him but to no effect. This really surprised her. She checked for a pulse and discovered a faint throbbing of Harry's veins in order.

"We've to get him to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione told Ron and Luna and conjured up a stretcher for him. She had tried to keep her worry from creeping into her voice but she knew she had failed. Her friends appeared equally worried for Harry's safety. They stretchred him to the Hospital Wing. Ginny was there in the Entrance Hall, as was Neville and they rushed to help the three of them. Once in the Hospital Wing, even as Ron told Madam Pomfrey about what had happened, the nurse began hastily examining Harry. After she finished with the check-up, she informed them, "I've never seen anything like this my entire life. He has a high fever running, almost as if he is delusional and under some spell. Did you perhaps happen to see if he was struck by a spell or not?"

Hermione looked at Ron. He shook his head at Madam Pomfrey and said, "No."

But it was Neville who spoke up timidly this time, "He got a spell from You-Know-Who. But it didn't seem to make any difference to him." The others stared at this revelation.

"If the spell did make any difference, I don't know how," Madam Pomfrey said grimly, "This looks beyond my skill to heal."

"Madam Pomfrey," Ginny spoke, "Is Harry going to be all right?"

The nurse didn't reply. Instead, she said, "I'll keep him here. Mr Weasley, please go and see if the Headmaster has arrived. Bring him here immediately if he has." Then, she proceeded to repair the break in Hermione's ankle, which Hermione ironically didn't notice.

Ron nodded and went outside. He rushed to the Entrance Hall and onto the grounds. Some students had informed him that there was a group gathered near Hagrid's hut. Twilight had set in. Stars had begun to appear. Smoke could be seen spiralling into the sky from the direction of Hogsmeade village as a dark shadow, rather like a pillar. But Ron's attention was, at the moment, directed towards the direction of Hagrid's hut where about thirty wizards and witched were currently congregated, just as he had been informed.

Ron rushed in the middle and straight to Dumbledore, who was looking as calm as ever, "Professor, Harry...he is in the Hospital Wing, unconscious. Madam Pomfrey asked for you. She can't see what's wrong."

Voices broke out in the group at this, but Dumbledore didn't heed them. Immediately, he made his way towards the castle. The group meanwhile, looked on after them, worried. Ron and Dumbledore reached the Hospital Wing. Dumbledore immediately rushed to Harry's side. He took his hand in his own and felt his forehead. It was still burning hot.

"Professor, what's happened to him?" Hermione asked. Dumbledore didn't reply. All the teens along with Madam Pomfrey looked on as the Headmaster continued to feel at Harry's palm and his forehead. He was uttering something under his breath but it made no effect whatsoever on Harry. The Headmaster's face looked graver by the second, as if what he learned deeply disquieted him.

"Professor, what's the matter?" Hermione asked again, her voice tearful, "Is he going to be alright?" Dumbledore didn't reply.

It was Ron who spoke up angrily this time, "Why don't you answer her, dammit? Why?"

But Dumbledore merely raised a hand in Ron's direction, signifying the need for silence. They watched on as the Headmaster continued his examination.

At last, he looked up and sighed. He said to Madam Pomfrey, "Poppy, remember you must not use any magic whatsoever on him, none, and do not allow anyone else to do so. Don't worry about his fever; it's just an effect of the turmoil within his mind. But remember! No magic!"

"Professor, what's happened to him?" Ron asked Dumbledore in a strained voice.

"I don't know for sure," Dumbledore replied. "All I can say for now is that his mind is in great turmoil and only Harry himself can find a way to get himself out of this. None of us can help him." He took one last look at Harry and said to Ron, Luna and Hermione, "Come now, it's time for the dinner to begin. I have to address the whole school before that."

"I want to stay here," Hermione said definitively, still looking at Harry, her voice devoid of any emotion. She had felt hope balloon in her heart when she had seen Dumbledore come in. But even that had faded as Dumbledore failed to cure Harry. Her heart sank and she was languishing in the depths of despair now, as she held Harry's hand in her own palm, and caressed it with soft, smooth touches.

Madam Pomfrey moved as if to dissuade her but Dumbledore shook his head at her. He said, "You'd better come with us as well, Poppy. I want the entire school to be in the Great Hall when I brief them of everything."

They moved out of the Hospital wing at this. Dumbledore closed the doors softly behind them as they exited the ward. Hermione though, didn't notice this.

She remained as she was and merely continued looking at Harry. "Please Harry, if you are listening," she said silently, feeling that his thoughts would reach him, "I love you very much and can't bear to be separated from you. Please come back. Harry, please come back for me. Please do."

She got up from her seat and kissed his burning forehead. She then went back to sitting beside him, waiting over him and stayed as such the whole night. When Madam Pomfrey came back, she didn't say anything to her, but after giving Harry another check-up, she retired to her office. It was only the next morning that Hermione moved when Madam Pomfrey woke her up and told her to go to Gryffindor tower, and then her classes.

* * * * *

Dumbledore walked into the Great Hall. It was filled with all the students Hogwarts played home to, yet it lacked the usual cheer and merrymaking. News of the attack had reached all corners of the school by now, what with many of the older students actually bearing witness to the Dementor attack. Rumours too, had begun to take roots, and it was now the Headmaster's task to dissipate them and to tell them the truth.

Dumbledore went up to the Staff table and stood before the entire school, looking at all the eager (and frightened) faces of the audience. He began, "Alas it is my duty to inform all of you about the grievous events of today. Today, Lord Voldemort (there was a gasp at this throughout the Great Hall) shook the very edifice upon which the existence of our world is based. Today, the Dark Lord showed us the extent of his power.

"You must have gotten the news of what happened at Hogsmeade from the first-hand accounts of many of our own number. Hogsmeade is no more now. All the landmarks that once marked the village have now been razed to the ground - The Three Broomsticks, Hog's Head, Zonko's, Honeydukes, even the Shrieking Shack. All the signs of the merry times that all of us had at some time or the other in the village, have now been decimated. About seventy people have lost their souls to the Dementors. Many more have been hurt, both in terms of physical hurt and the loss of family, friends, homes and possessions. Yet they have escaped with the most precious thing - their lives - and while those remain intact, hope will never fade.

"But besides Hogsmeade, there was also an attack on one of our most beloved places - Diagon Alley. The alley was attacked in much the same fashion at Hogsmeade, yet it suffered less damage, in part due to the timely intervention of Aurors.

"These attacks on two of the most well-known locations in our world have shown us what difficult times we face. Evil has not only risen, but has now surrounded us like a dark cloud. In such times, it is only the strength of our minds that can help us fight it. They say, 'The mind is in its own place and can by itself, make a heaven of hell and a hell of heaven'. We have the power but we only need to find where it lies to use it justly.

"Lastly, I must mention the role of one person in all these matters - Harry Potter. I have no doubt that most of you have seen or heard of what he did today at Hogsmeade. For those of you who have not, I will tell you. Harry Potter took it upon himself the onus of warding off the attack on Hogsmeade and saving the people trapped in there. He did so successfully, and having done that, he showed the kind of courage and strength that make us proud of being gifted with the powers of wizards and witches, the very thing that embodies the ideals of this school. He faced Death Eaters, thwarted them and stood up to Lord Voldemort once again. Had it not been for him, our losses at Hogsmeade would have been much greater and many of us sitting at the moment in the Great Hall, would have instead found themselves bereft of their lives and their souls. He had a choice before him, to choose his own safety or that of the others, and he chose the just path.

"No doubt, you may be wondering where he is at the moment, why he is conspicuously absent tonight. The reason is that Harry's bravery did not come without a price. At the moment, he is in the Hospital Wing, fighting another great battle - possibly the greatest and most important battle he has ever fought - that against his own mind. So, let us pray tonight that Harry is given the power and the strength to protect his mind. Let us pray that he wins this battle and comes out of it even stronger - as a hero who all of us have every reason to honour."

Dumbledore raised his goblet and most of the students, with the exception of many of the Slytherins, followed suit.

Dumbledore sat down in his chair and sighed. Severus Snape was sitting next to him tonight. He said, "Headmaster, the Dark Lord calls." Dumbledore nodded.

Snape got up and walked out of the Great Hall. Dumbledore stayed on a few more minutes before he too got up and left.

The students of Hogwarts didn't pay notice to this. They were too busy talking about all that had happened and was said in the last twelve hours.

* * * * *

Dumbledore walked to his office, lost in his thought. He entered and was immediately faced by Professor Elijah Bickerstaff.

"I didn't see you in the Great Hall tonight, Elijah," Dumbledore said. Bickerstaff observed Dumbledore closely. He felt as if the years had caught up finally with Dumbledore. The cloak of infinite energy and enthusiasm that he wrapped around himself all the time was gone. He looked an old and broke man whose last gamble seemed to have failed miserably.

"You look terrible," he commented.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, sighing, "Much sorrow has befallen me tonight."

"Your brother Aberfroth?" Bickerstaff enquired mildly.

"Yes, and that is not the least of my worries," Dumbledore said, "Aberfroth lived a full life. Even though I did never quite understand him myself, he did that well. He made mistakes and enjoyed them. It's just that I would never wish such a death at the hands of a Dementor to anyone."

"Where is he now?" Bickerstaff asked.

"At Headquarters," Dumbledore replied. "As still as a stone. As dead as a stump."

"Isn't there any way to..." Bickerstaff began.

"You know quite well there isn't any, at least not one that is known," Dumbledore replied.

"What about Potter?" Bickerstaff asked. "I heard he has not awoken yet."

"You heard right," Dumbledore answered. "He's still unconscious."

"Any ideas as to what might have happened?" Bickerstaff asked.

"Many," Dumbledore replied, "But none based on concrete proof."

"Kingsley told me that the Ministry is contemplating giving a posthumous Order of Merlin to the boy already," Bickerstaff informed the Headmaster.

Dumbledore responded, "They are being ludicrous. He is not dead."

"Will he be?" Bickerstaff asked. Dumbledore pursed up his lips and turned to look out of the window. It was dark outside. Not a star to be seen, he thought.

"Can he stay alive after this?" Bickerstaff rephrased his question. "Is there any hope for him?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore said. "I have sensed great anguish and query in his mind. There is great turmoil. In the end, it is going to be the strength of his mind that's going to determine if he passes this test or not. This is exclusively the test to verify the steel of his mind."

"He is ready, isn't he?" Bickerstaff queried.

"If he gets through this, he will be," Dumbledore replied.

Bickerstaff smiled inwardly. "That's all I wanted to know," he said and got up to leave. But before going, he gave away a few last words of advice, "Aberfroth died in a war, Dumbledore. I hope you remember that."

"I do," Dumbledore replied, "But that doesn't change the fact that he was my brother or that this war is of my making."

Bickerstaff shook his head lightly, not having got Dumbledore's meaning and quietly exited the office, leaving Dumbledore immersed in his thoughts.

'How many are going to fall victim to this war?' Dumbledore thought. 'How much longer shall I have to endure this eternal torment?'

'Only so long as you are capable of,' came the reply.

* * * * *

It was the day after Halloween. The Daily Prophet had been full of reports about the attack on Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, which was expected. Harry hadn't woken up yet.

It was eight in the evening and Hermione was sitting at Harry's bedside. Professor Dumbledore had allowed her to be with him in the Hospital Wing except for the time of her classes and up to ten in the evening. So here she was sting near him, reading and keeping up with her school work, yet not failing to let him be subconsciously aware of her presence.

Harry had had a stream of visitors tonight. All the DA members had been here, at some point of time or the other, as also all those who Harry had helped save at Hogsmeade. Many of the younger Gryffindors had also visited him. Everyone had asked how he was and Hermione had answered with the same words. There was no change in his condition from the previous day.

Hermione heard the doors of the Hospital Wing open. She presumed it was Madam Pomfrey. The school nurse, along with many other Healers across Britain had been summoned to St Mungo's urgently, taking into consideration the number of injuries, both minor and grievous, that had occurred. Hermione, even while not lifting her eyes off the book she was studying (with one eye on the lookout for Harry at the same time), was mildly surprised that Madam Pomfrey had returned so quickly.

The sound of footsteps followed. It was definitely more than one person. She looked up to see Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe walking towards Harry's bed.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked in a warning tone as they neared.

"Nothing with you, Mudblood," Malfoy spat back rudely, "Anyway, it's not with you that I've business tonight; it's with your dear Potter." Malfoy ran his finger along Harry's forehead and then remarked, "Nasty business with the fever, isn't it?"

Hermione flung Malfoy's hand away and shouted, "Keep away from him, Malfoy." Immediately, she found her arms being pinned backwards by Goyle. Hermione tried to struggle but Goyle had her firmly caught. Malfoy walked around the bed and stood before her, his faces inches from her own. Hermione found the sight of his evil sneering face most repulsive.

Malfoy sneered, "Don't try to bite off more than you can chew, Mudblood. Anyways, I was just here to give Potter a message form the Dark Lord. Now, since he is half-dead, I'll tell you what it is. You can convey it to him in whichever way you will if he does wake up. Tell him, 'It is not the Dark Lord's spells that have waned; it's Potter's own defence. The Dark Lord is all powerful. Potter can run, but he can never hope to hide.'"

"Is that all that you have been told to say, page-boy?" Hermione taunted, steel glinting in her eyes.

Draco slapped her across the face. "Don't dare insult me, Mudblood," he sneered, "or you'll find yourself in big trouble."

He turned away, but then turned back again, regaining his oily manner. He inched closer to her. His body almost touched hers. He said softly, "On the other hand, you might decide to give me something," he looked at her body as he said this and started running his fingers up her arms, "and I'll give you something back in return, something you want, something like Potter's awakening."

Hermione did not react with her words. Instead, she shoved her knee hard in between Malfoy's legs. There was heavy contact and the strike at a very sensitive spot meant that he hunched over in great pain, howling and cursing at the same time. Goyle tried to twist her arm further but she stepped heavily on his feet. He let go of her and started jumping about the place in pain of his throbbing foot. He almost brought about an earthquake in his wake. Crabbe made a jump at Hermione but she dodged him. Instead, he struck a bottle containing some potion. It fell to the floor and broke, and the potion splattered all over on Goyle's robes, which caught fire immediately. Now, the witless baboon had to think about his burning robes aside from his throbbing feet.

Before any of the three could get her again, Hermione took her wand from Harry's bedside table and pointed it right in Malfoy's face. "What were you saying again," she asked.

Malfoy felt a bead of sweat running down his eyebrows.

"Now, will you go or shall I make you?" Hermione threatened.

She saw that Ron and Neville were now standing in the doorway, staring open-mouthed at what was going on. Hermione glared at Malfoy and his cronies.

They staggered to their feet and rushed out of the ward. Malfoy was still holding his painfully throbbing crotch. Ron and Neville followed the Slytherins' departure with amused looks on their faces.

"Did we miss anything?" Ron asked.

Hermione replied, "Not much..."

"What happened to them? And why was Malfoy holding his..." Ron trailed off as they neared Harry's bed. It seemed he'd just realized Hermione's presence as that of a girl.

"I kicked him there," Hermione answered nonchalantly.

"Oh my God! Hermione, I don't know how to say this, but it really hurts down there," Ron said. Neville nodded in agreement. "Even for Malfoy, that must hold true."

"Then I'm glad to know that," Hermione said and sat back in her chair.

"Whoa there!" Ron exclaimed. "He must have done something serious."

"He did," Hermione affirmed, "He delivered for Harry, a threat from Voldemort."

"He didn't," Ron exclaimed angrily, though not before he and Neville had flinched at the Dark Lord's name. Hermione nodded, "He did."

"What!" Ron exclaimed, looking ready to murder. "I'll kill that treacherous bastard!"

"Calm down, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "You're being melodramatic."

Ron glared at her but sat down nonetheless beside Harry's bed. Neville had already taken a seat.

"Madam Pomfrey not here yet?" Ron enquired. He had been to Quidditch practice earlier; the entire Gryffindor team except for Harry had been on the pitch. Hermione shook her head in reply to his question.

"You know," he said, "Dumbledore gave us permission to postpone the game against Slytherin if Harry isn't fit till then. He has asked the Hufflepuffs to play them instead." Hermione nodded glumly.

"Harry would like hearing that, when he wakes up," Hermione said, looking at Harry, his closed eyes conveying a calm, peaceful appearance.

"You know," Neville said, speaking up for the first time in a quiet voice, "I never really knew how much courage Harry possessed till yesterday."

"Neville," Ron said, "We still don't really know what happened after everyone was rescued, everyone except you. Tell us what happened."

"Ron, let him be," Hermione chided Ron mildly. She had noticed that Neville had been refraining from broaching the subject.

"It's okay, Hermione," Neville interjected. "It isn't as if it were a complete disaster." And with that, he began narrating. But he hadn't spoken more than a few words when the door opened yet again and Luna and Ginny walked in. Both were looking slightly harassed by the burden of studies that was being heaped on them. The sextet that had fought once together in the Department of Mysteries had assembled and was complete once again.

"How is Harry now?" Ginny asked as they came up and drew more chairs around his bed. "He does look peaceful, doesn't he?"

Even though Hermione was deeply worried by Harry slipping into a coma like this, she couldn't deny that what Ginny had just said was true. He looked like a baby, relaxed and relieved from all his burdens. Yet, Hermione knew from what Dumbledore had said that it was only a façade. Lots was going on inside his mind, something that no one from outside could see.

Ron chided Ginny, "Ginny, keep quiet and let Neville speak."

Neville started speaking once again. He spoke of how the people of Hogsmeade were rescued and they were assailed by Death Eaters later. He came to the part where Harry challenged Voldemort and faced him, how he bargained Neville's life for the prophecy. When he reached the part, Ron shot a glance at Hermione. She looked quite pale.

As he ended, Neville said, "I don't think I can ever forget his face. I've never felt so frightened in my entire life. I mean, all those Dementors there, and I still felt like they could never compare in terror to him." Hermione regarded Neville sympathetically. Ginny was looking at him strangely.

The five of them talked quietly among themselves about the goings-on in the wizarding world. At nine, i.e. the time for curfew, Ron, Luna, Ginny and Neville said their good-byes to Hermione and went to Gryffindor tower. Hermione though, chose to stay there beside Harry till Madam Pomfrey returned. After the others went, Hermione went back to her study, but she could not concentrate - a rarity in itself. Somehow, Neville's words regarding Lord Voldemort still rand in her ears.

She leant forward and took Harry's hand into her own, "You're really brave, Harry," she said softly, "Show that courage once more now and please come back to me."

* * * * *

As Hermione left the Hospital Wing that night after Madam Pomfrey's arrival, she was making her way back to Gryffindor tower. She had this weird feeling that something was wrong somewhere, that she had missed something along the way. Suddenly, it hit her.

She ran to the Headmaster's office at full speed and without bothering to knock, entered his office directly. Dumbledore directed his attention towards her from behind his desk.

"It was that spell, wasn't it?" Hermione said, her voice shaking in anger. "That spell caused it. You know, and yet you have not done anything."

"The spell has no counter, Hermione," Dumbledore said calmly.

As she heard these words, Hermione's heart sank once again. She asked, "What does it do?"

"It makes the victim a prisoner of his own mind," Dumbledore explained, "He begins to live and dwell in an illusion that his mind dictates. The illusion is normally so wonderful that the victim chooses to stay in it instead of freeing himself. Unless the victim himself breaks the shackles, he forever remains a prisoner of his own mind."

"Has anyone succeeded in recovering?" Hermione asked, dreading the answer. Dumbledore shook his head.

"Will Harry be okay?" she asked, seeking the assurance that she so desperately needed.

"I have no doubt he will," Dumbledore answered. "After all, he's proven history wrong before." The Headmaster's voice was most sincere.

Hermione's shoulders drooped. She said, "I'm sorry, Professor...for disturbing you like this."

"Don't be," Dumbledore said, "But I think it is time for you to go straight back to Gryffindor tower."

Hermione nodded and left the office without a word.

* * * * *