Nemesis

Chapter 2

Harry opened his eyes and groaned on seeing the stark white ceiling of the Hospital Wing.

"I wonder why I always end up here," he muttered under his breath. Madam Pomfrey appeared immediately.

"So, Mr. Potter, you have decided to join us, have you?"

"What happened?" Harry asked groggily.

"You fainted in the Gryffindor Common Room and scared the living daylights out of your friends."

"How long was I out?"

"A day and a half."

Harry groaned and muttered, "What a way to start my term as Head Boy."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter. I was hoping you would tell me what exactly took place."

"I was just feeling sleepy...I'd had a rough day, I suppose..."

Madam Pomfrey made a disbelieving noise and said sharply, "Do you expect me to believe that? Really, Potter!"

"I really don't know what happened, Madam Pomfrey. What is wrong with me?"

The nurse looked perplexed.

"I don't know, Harry, I really don't know. You are weak, but I am unable to find out what is wrong with you. Something seems to be draining your magical health."

"How long will it take me to heal?" asked Harry, a cold fist closing around his heart. If he had to fight Voldemort, he would require all the strength he could gather. He had no chance of winning if he was drained.

Madam Pomfrey sighed and said gently, "I'm not sure."

Harry fought to ignore the throbbing in his head and lied smoothly, "I feel ok now, can I go and join my friends?"

The nurse looked at him as if he had grown an extra nose (which probably wouldn't have surprised her half as much) and said curtly, "No."

"But Madam Pomfrey, you know me well enough to believe that I can take care of myself!"

"Oh, yes, Potter, I do know you well enough! You have ended up in the Hospital Wing more often than the rest of your class put together!"

Harry gave her his most charming smile, combined with a pleading look in his brilliant green eyes. The school nurse sighed.

"Don't give me that look, Potter. I am not going to let you out right now."

"Please?"

"No."

"But why?"

"You need rest."

"But I feel fine."

Madam Pomfrey crossed her arms and gave him a stern look.

"You are not going anywhere until I find out what's wrong with you," she stated imperiously and left the room.

Harry fell back in his chair wondering how he would pass his time when he was smothered by a mass of bushy brown hair.

"Hermione! I'm choking!" he gasped. Hermione loosened her grip on him, but wouldn't remove her arms from around him. Harry looked up to see Ron grinning at him.

"You gave us quite a turn, mate," he said.

Hermione finally broke away and wiped her eyes, which were already swollen and red rimmed. Harry looked carefully at his friends. Even Ron looked as if he hadn't slept for a day or two. He felt slightly guilty to be the cause of their anxiety.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Umm, ok, but Pomfrey wouldn't hear of letting me go," Harry replied crossly.

Ron chuckled, but Hermione silenced him with a look.

"Did she tell you what happened to you?" she asked anxiously.

"No, she said that she didn't know," said Harry, trying to sound as if he didn't care about that fact at all.

Ron and Hermione took a collective gasp and Hermione's eyes shone with unshed tears. Harry felt even worse. His brain was pounding against his skull. He fought to control the darkness that was closing in on him and realised that his efforts would be useless. He said softly at the concerned questioning look on the rapidly dimming faces of Ron and Hermione, "Guys, I think I'm going to faint again..." and knew no more.

Harry woke up to see white clouds sailing over the sky. Wait, he wasn't outside, was he? He closed his eyes and opened them again, slowly. And looked into the face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Hello, Harry. Good to see you."

"Good morning, sir," Harry muttered, sitting up a little.

"I'm afraid you have the time of the day wrong, my boy. It's eight in the evening."

"Oh. What happened? Oh no..." began Harry, but trailed off when he remembered what had occurred.

"You fainted again, me boy," said Dumbledore casually, "however, Poppy and Severus have managed to find out your ailment and have administered the cure. You shall be right as rain in a few days."

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What was wrong with me?"

"It seems that you were infected by the Conscia virus, the common carrier of which are Manticores. Don't worry, though. You'll be fine."

"How did I get infected?"

"Bets, I believe."

"But - but why?"

"We are not sure, Harry," sighed the older wizard, "but we think there might be Lord Voldemort behind this."

"What does the virus do?"

"It is parasitic in nature. It feeds on the host's magical energy, rendering the host rather weak and susceptible to fainting fits. Ultimately, the virus takes up all the magic from the host, and the host is left barely alive. Soon after, the virus leaves the host and moves on to another one, resulting in the death of the former, as it bursts through the host. However, since you were treated pretty early, you will make a complete recovery soon enough."

"Oh. But why would Voldemort want to infect me with something that can be so easily cured?"

Dumbledore frowned, then shook his head and said softly, "I really have no idea."

Harry nodded and sank back on his pillow, waiting for Dumbledore's departure. He turned out to be wrong, however. The Headmaster showed no sign of leaving. Instead, Dumbledore sat down on a seat next to Harry's bed and said cheerfully, "Get well soon, Harry."

"Thank you, sir. Is there anything you wanted to talk to me about?" Harry asked, for he knew that Dumbledore did hardly anything without a purpose. He still respected the old wizard a lot, but he no longer trusted him blindly. Dumbledore was a great man, but he was also a man who made mistakes and manipulated people.

The Headmaster seemed taken aback by this sudden display of coldness towards him. He loved Harry more than the young wizard would ever know; he was like a grandson to him. Harry's affection towards him had undergone a massive change since Sirius' death, but the old wizard had hoped he had won back at least a part of that affection in the previous year when they had captured Wormtail together and cleared Sirius' name. The boy had gone off to his aunt's house without having a talk with him, and Dumbledore had thought that when Harry came back, they would be on better terms. It seemed he had been wrong. He sighed wearily and hung his head, looking very old and vulnerable.

"No, Harry," he said softly, "I just came to see of you were all right. I was worried about you."

Harry's gaze softened.

"No offence meant, sir," he said quietly.

"None taken, my boy," Dumbledore looked straight at him and his eyes twinkled slightly, "I wish you a speedy recovery. I believe Poppy will let you go by tomorrow. Meanwhile, what would you like to do?"

Harry shrugged. "How is Remus? Has he returned?" he asked suddenly.

Dumbledore looked surprised.

"No, he isn't back yet, but he is fine. I believe he is in France at the moment."

"Oh, I see."

They remained silent for some time.

"Would you like a game of Exploding Snap? I have not played the game since quite a long time, and I too, like you, have nothing to do at the moment," said Dumbledore.

It was Harry's turn to be surprised.

"Yeah, sure," was all he could manage.

They played for an hour or so, when Harry started yawning.

"Time for sleep, Harry," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not really that sleepy."

"Would you like to hear a bedtime story?"

Harry was so shocked that he could not speak. He merely nodded.

"Right, then," said Dumbledore, tucking him in, "once upon a time there lived a good king who ruled..."

Harry felt his eyelids fluttering shut as he listened to Dumbledore's soothing voice telling him of kings and fairies and dragons. He was just on the verge of sleep when he felt Dumbledore stand up.

"Sleep well, Harry, my boy," said the Headmaster, adjusted his covers and kissed him lightly on the forehead before leaving. Harry wondered vaguely what it was all about before falling asleep.

Severus Snape stood in front of his master and listened to the Dark Lord swearing. Lord Voldemort turned to face him and asked in a deadly whisper, "Did you say that the boy has been de-contaminated, Severus?"

"Yes, Master."

"Who did this?"

"The school nurse, Master. I helped her a bit, because the old fool asked me to, and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. I had to pretend to help her to keep my cover."

"Yes, yes, you did well, Severus," said the red eyed man dismissively, "you may return now. I don't want that old fool to suspect you. You must keep him under the impression that you are nothing but his Potions Master."

"Yes, Master." The Professor knelt and kissed the hem of his master's robes before departing. Lord Voldemort turned his attention to Lucius Malfoy.

"So, Lucius, you have failed again."

"Master, the boy was infected as per your orders..."

"But he was cured, wasn't he? Your Manticore is a useless creature!"

"I apologise, Master..."

"Shut up, Lucius! Avada Kedavra!"

A green jet of light burst forth from the Dark Lord's wand and Lucius Malfoy lay dead.

"Narcissa!" called Voldemort.

A black robed graceful figure walked to the front.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice full of controlled grief and rage.

"Would you like to join your husband?"

Narcissa Malfoy burst out laughing.

"You half-blood!" she shrieked at Voldemort, "we knew this might happen, and we prepared for it. You will pay dearly for this, Tom Riddle! The boy was not infected as per your orders; we put in the Conscia virus instead!"

"Where is the real virus, woman?" hissed Lord Voldemort coldly.

"You will never learn that!"

"Where is it?"

Narcissa smirked, and anyone who had seen her and her son would have recognised it as the trademark smirk of Draco Malfoy.

"Why should I tell you? You just killed my husband, your most loyal servant...and you're going to kill me soon, too. No, I won't tell you...how do you even know that we haven't destroyed it?"

For an instant, there flashed an expression of rage on the Dark Lord's face before settling on the impassive look.

"Have you destroyed my virus?" he asked dangerously.

Narcissa Malfoy laughed in reply, her proud head held high. It almost seemed as if the Malfoys had planned their own deaths.

"Avada Kedavra!" yelled the Dark Lord, infuriated. The tall, graceful figure of Narcissa Malfoy fell, a smile on her lips. Severus Snape shook in the shadows where he was hiding. He had seen the whole incident, and he Disapparated to Hogsmeade and made his way to Hogwarts as quickly as possible, shocked at the new turn of events. It was extremely important for Dumbledore to know what had happened.

"Headmaster!" shouted Professor Snape, banging on Dumbledore's door. The old wizard emerged, looking very sleepy in his pyjamas. One look at the Potions Master face, however, drove away all the sleepiness from him.

"What happened, Severus? Are you all right?" he asked, concerned for his teacher. He led Snape to a chair and sat down in another one in front of him. Though Albus Dumbledore would not admit it in front of Severus Snape, he had come to regard the cold Potions Master as a son and often worried about the double life he was leading.

"I am fine, Albus. It's the Malfoys."

"What about the Malfoys?"

"The Dark Lord killed them, Albus. He killed them!"

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and a glass of the strongest alcohol in his chamber appeared in his hand. He offered it to Snape.

"Drink this, Severus," he said gently, but his voice was firm. He could see the calm, controlled Professor getting hysterical. The news had shocked him very much. He vaguely wondered if Harry knew of this incident. And Draco.

Professor Snape took the glass gratefully and poured it down his throat quickly. He looked at the Headmaster and said, "Thank you, sir."

"Now tell me what happened, Severus."

Professor Snape related the whole episode to him. When he had finished, Dumbledore sighed audibly.

"Mr. Malfoy must have been informed by now, right?" he asked.

Snape nodded.

"You need to rest, Severus. I would suggest that you go to bed immediately."

"But Albus, the real virus is still out there...Lucius would never have destroyed such a valuable thing...we need to know what it is to find the cure..."

"Don't worry, Severus. I will alert the Order. Now get some sleep, you look dead on your feet."

Severus Snape left the Headmaster of Hogwarts looking very tired and very old.

Draco Malfoy sat up with a cry at the sharp pain on his finger. An eagle owl was pecking him mercilessly. It stopped when he sat up, dropped a letter on his palm and flew out. The blonde Slytherin looked at the letter and paled. It was a piece of black parchment and bore the Dark Mark. His hand trembled as he tore it open. It could mean only one thing. One of his parents was dead; killed by either the Dark Lord himself or some Death Eater. He paled as he read the letter. It bore the news of the death of both his parents by the hand of Lord Voldemort himself for disloyalty. Draco seethed with rage. He knew that his parents were loyal followers of Voldemort. How dare he discredit them?

After the fit of rage passed, Draco felt empty. His parents were dead. He would never hear their voices again. He would never go shopping with them again. He would never be taught by them again. His mother would never sing to him again. She would never comfort him when he was hurt again. His father would never get him out of trouble again. They would never scold him again...

Tears fell unbidden, and Draco didn't bother to try to control them. He would have given anything to have his father come in right now and say disgustedly, "Malfoys never cry, Draco. When will you learn that? Stop sobbing like a child and get back to sleep." He wanted his mother to come and hug him and say, "It was a joke, Draco. We are alive and well and not leaving you anytime soon."

But Lucius Malfoy would never come again. Neither would Narcissa. His father and mother were dead. Killed by the monster they called 'master'. Draco's body shook violently; whether with grief or anger, he didn't know. Probably a combination of both.

"Father! Mother! No! Come back!" he cried into the darkness. His room mates did not stir. Draco had inadvertently cast a Silencing charm around himself. He suddenly stood up and ran out of the dormitory. He kept running till he couldn't run anymore. As he gasped for breath, he looked around and found himself in a balcony like place. He walked over to the edge and screamed out into the night air, "I hate you Voldemort! I swear on the blood of my parents that I will make you pay for this! Do you hear me, you scum? I shall do everything in my power to defeat you! You murdering swine! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, VOLDEMORT!"

A gentle hand on his shoulder made him nearly jump out of his skin. Breathing heavily, he whirled around to face the offender. He looked into the face of his arch rival, Harry Potter, who was regarding him with a strangely gentle expression on his face.

"Potter! What the hell are you doing here?" Draco shouted.

Harry looked at him with sad eyes.

"I am sorry, Draco."

Draco took a step back. He was astounded, to state the very least. "How - how did you know..." he stammered.

Harry said quietly, "I didn't close my mind today - somehow I forgot. I saw the entire thing happen..."

"What do you mean, you saw?"

"My scar links me to Voldemort. If I don't close my mind, I can see what he does and feel what he feels."

"Does he know?"

"Oh yes. That is what caused all the problems back in the fifth year. Since then, I have learnt to close my mind."

"What did you see?" Draco asked quietly.

"Do you really want to know?"

Draco nodded, his throat too tight to speak.

"Very well," said Harry and proceeded to relate what had happened. By the time he'd finished, Draco was shaking violently.

"I am sorry, Draco," Harry said quietly.

Draco Malfoy suddenly jerked away from him.

"Bet you enjoyed watching all that, didn't you, Potter? How you must have laughed when you saw my parents die...and then you come here to shed crocodile tears and pretend to be Saint Potter! You - you hypocrite!" he shouted.

Harry looked at him with sad eyes. Draco wondered how he could stay so calm.

"I didn't enjoy it, Malfoy. Believe me, I am the last person on earth who would wish the death of any parents, even yours. I know what it feels like to be an orphan...better than anyone else. I am sorry if it appeared that way to you. Accept my condolences. I will leave you now," said Harry quietly and turned to leave.

Draco Malfoy stood undecided for a moment. He hated Harry Potter, but he hated Lord Voldemort even more. He had to destroy Voldemort for killing his parents. And he would have to aid Harry Potter to do that, however distasteful he might find it.

"Hey, Potter!"

Harry turned back and looked at Draco straight in the eye. Draco suddenly shivered. There was such raw power in that penetrating gaze. Draco suddenly realised why Harry Potter was to be the one to kill Voldemort. He was a very, very powerful wizard.

"Thank you, Potter," Draco said quietly.

Harry nodded, understanding. He gave his arch-enemy a small smile and returned to the Hospital Wing, wondering what Ron would say if he knew what had just happened.