Coming Darkness

Chapter Four

Trust Issues

That night, Harry served his detention with Madame Pince. He spent most of his time on his hands and knees attempting to scrub out the ink stains left behind by his tantrum earlier in the day. For the first two hours, Harry had not been allowed to use magic. As it had become obvious that soap and water was not going to do anything, he had finally been given some magical stain remover. Harry returned to the dormitory completely knackered and had his most peaceful night's sleep since the beginning of the term.

Harry woke up the next morning and headed down to breakfast. He sat by himself, as had become his custom over the last week. Sitting by Ron and Hermione was obviously not an option. Even if Colin and Dennis would have wanted him to sit by them, he wouldn't have. Harry didn't want to risk triggering the potion with Colin's annoying personality. Fred and George had sat next to him one afternoon, but it had become obvious that they had had ulterior motives. They must have sprinkled some of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes newest concoction on his food. One moment he had been a young, 15 year old boy and the next he looked like an old geezer who had seen more years than Dumbledore. Luckily Fred and George hadn't been too mean; his oldness had only lasted about a half hour so he hadn't had to go to class looking older than the professor.

Today Harry was munching on some bacon when he noticed Malfoy enter the Great Hall with a group of Slytherins gathered around him. As they passed by, Malfoy glanced at Harry and raised his voice as he said, "And then he just attacked me. I've always said Potter wasn't as good as everyone thinks he is." The other Slytherins nodded their heads in agreement as they sat down and began eating.

Harry finished his breakfast and headed up to the North Tower. Harry's first class of the day was Divination. Next to Potions, this was the class that Harry hated the most. The main reason, of course, being that Professor Trelawney was a fake. She would wander around the classroom spouting omens of bad fortune for every person in the class, especially Harry.

A deck of Tarot cards had been on their list of required school supplies this year. Today they were continuing with Tarot cards and were actually going to try doing a reading. Professor Trelawney told one person in every pair of students to pull out their own deck of cards and try to do a reading on their partner.

Harry had pulled out his cards to do a three card spread of the present, obstacle and final outcome on his partner, Neville. Neville seemed to be having trouble shuffling the deck of cards; this was the second time he had dropped them. While Harry was waiting for him to pick them up, he overheard Ron's partner, Dean, commenting on Ron's cards.

"This first card, the Ten of Cups," Dean said as he pointed at the first card that represented the present, "represents joy, love, and friendship... your family or family of friends. This second card, the Knight of Wands," Dean indicated the second card for the obstacle, "represents... a male teen leader born under a fire sign, probably someone close to you. This third card, the Three of Swords," Dean had come to the last card for the final outcome. He took a moment to consult his notes before continuing on with Ron's fortune. "Sorry, Ron, this is not a good card to have for the future. This means that there will be pain and heartbreak in your near future."

Professor Trelawney, having heard Ron's unfortunate prediction came bustling over to further confirm the maledictions. "You poor unfortunate dear. I am sorry to say that I have already seen the terribleness that you are about to face but please don't ask me to speak of it! Only those both gifted and cursed with the Sight should be burdened with knowledge of the future."

"However, I can tell you what is obvious from these cards. These do, indeed, indicate that you will face pain and heartbreak in the future. Further more, this will all be caused by the person represented by the Knight of Wands as your obstacle." Ron had developed a worried and thoughtful frown on his face and glanced over at Harry. They both held the stare until Harry was distracted.

"Harry, are you alright?" asked Neville. Harry had been listening so intently to Ron's predictions that he hadn't realized that Neville had finally finished shuffling his cards and had just been sitting there for a few moments.

"Ya, I'm fine Neville." Harry finished the rest of class avoiding Ron's gaze and thinking about his best friend's coming misfortune. Harry was a teen, some would consider a leader, and he had been born under the fire sign of a Leo. Was he the friend that was going to cause pain for Ron? With him feeling the effects of the potion more and more, this did seem rather likely. Harry would have to be very careful from now on, especially concerning Ron.

******************

When Harry had descended the ladder after class he found Professor McGonagall waiting for him.

"Please follow me Mr. Potter." With that said, Professor McGonagall turned to sweep her way down the stairs that led up to the North Tower. She continued at a brisk pace, winding her way down corridors and stairways until she stopped in front of a giant stone gargoyle.

"The Headmaster would like to speak with you for a moment. Canary Cream." Harry smiled to himself. Dumbledore had chosen an invention of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes as his password. With that said, the gargoyle hopped aside and Harry jumped onto the spiral staircase as it began to coil upwards.

Did Dumbledore know about the potion? Dumbledore always seemed to know everything. Why hadn't Harry thought of this before? Of course Dumbledore would know something was happening; the question was, how much did he know. Maybe he knew about the potion and Harry was about to be expelled. There was no remaining copy of the antidote, he was only going to cause more and more damage, why not just kick him out now before things got any worse.

But maybe Harry was just being pessimistic. Maybe Dumbledore found out about the potion and he had found a cure for it. Dumbledore was the greatest wizard alive. Was it so unlikely that he knew of an antidote or maybe even just developed one after Harry had drank it? Maybe that was why it had been more than a week since Harry's taking the potion and Dumbledore talking to him about it. Yes, that was what Harry would hope for.

Harry had no sooner arrived at the entrance to Dumbledore's office than the Headmaster was opening the door and welcoming him inside.

"Harry, why don't you sit down," said Dumbledore.

Harry did as his Headmaster requested and sat down in front of the massive desk. Dumbledore took his time in taking his seat, giving Harry time to feel nervous and start fidgeting.

"Harry, I was wondering if there was anything bothering you lately?" Dumbledore asked in a gentle voice and then waited patiently, staring intently at Harry.

Harry felt as though someone had popped his balloon. Dumbledore didn't know anything; he wouldn't be able to help him with some magical antidote. But then again, it was Dumbledore; he never came right out and said anything. He only hinted around and implied things.

"Why do you ask?" Harry asked carefully.

"Professor Connelly told me of your boggart from the other day. Let me assure you that the significance of that incident was not lost on Professor Connelly nor myself. My interpretation is that you are afraid that you will become Tom Riddle, as he was on his way to becoming Lord Voldemort. Now, am I hot or cold?" Dumbledore held his silence, patiently waiting for Harry to answer. Dumbledore had gotten half of it, but he missed the best part, Harry also thought he would kill his own friends.

Harry, not inclined to add the rest of it, stared intently at the floor and mumbled "you're right."

"I feel this may, in part, be my fault. I told you years ago that Voldemort may have transferred some part of himself to you when he left you that scar. I never meant that to include his cruelness as well. Now..."

Harry felt as though he had been punched in the gut. He had never even considered that Voldemort could have shared some of his evilness with Harry. No wonder that potion had been warm going down. Some part of Voldemort that made up his evil nature had been buried somewhere deep down inside him, just waiting for a chance to be set loose.

Harry barely listened to anything Dumbledore said after this or he would have heard him say, "Voldemort may have transferred a part of his power and some of his skills, such as Parseltongue, to you. However, it is still your choice on how to use those skills." Harry, still immersed in his thoughts, didn't realize that Dumbledore was waiting for a response from this.

Dumbledore, taking Harry's silence as confirmation of his suspicions, continued on. "That, added to your..." Dumbledore paused for a moment to consider how to phrase it, "... incident with Mr. Malfoy has led to my concern for you. Mr. Malfoy seems to be very happy in parading about the whole school telling his side of the story; that you, very suddenly, went mad and attacked him. However, I believe that there are two sides to every story." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and waited for a response.

"He didn't attack me if that's what you're meaning sir." Harry gazed steadily downward and his voice got even quieter as he said, "I'm afraid, in a way, Malfoy's version is about right. He didn't do anything worse than his normal taunting."

"Harry, we must all choose who to put our trust in. I trust you, Harry. If there is anything important, I am certain that you would tell me. The students will decide whether or not to believe Mr. Malfoy. You must also decide if you believe in Mr. Malfoy's version of things." Dumbledore stopped at this point to aim a pointed gaze over his half-moon spectacles at Harry.

"You may go now Harry. If you ever do feel the need to tell me anything, please stop by. You are always welcome."

**********************

Harry came out of Dumbledore's office thinking about his last comment, you must also decide if you believe in Mr. Malfoy's version of things. What was that supposed to mean? Harry had been there at the 'incident' in the library. He knew what had happened; why would he need to decide whether or not to trust what Malfoy said. Maybe Dumbledore hadn't been referring to what had happened in the library. But what else could he be referring to? What else did Malfoy have a 'version' of? Harry suddenly remembered why he had gotten mad at him in the first place. He had said that there was no remaining copy of the antidote and that looking in the library would be pointless. That must be what he wasn't supposed to trust! But he had already searched the library and hadn't found anything close to the potion he had drunk. Except... he hadn't searched the Restricted Section. That must be it! Dumbledore had helped Harry with the antidote after all. Now all he had to do was find it.

***************************

The castle was quiet. The only sounds he could hear were the soft breathing and occasional snores coming from the beds around him. It was after midnight and the whole castle was asleep except him. Now was the perfect time.

He slowly crawled out from under the covers, trying not to make a sound. He got up and came to stand at the trunk that rested at the foot of his bed. Before opening it, he took a moment to glance at the figures resting in the other beds. They all seemed so peaceful in sleep, as though they didn't have a care in the world. He envied them that. He wanted peace, peace inside himself. That was why he had been sneaking out like this for the last two weeks.

Almost every night since his conversation with Dumbledore he had waited till everyone else was asleep and then, using his father's Invisibility Cloak, he would sneak down to the Restricted Section. He would spend his time searching for promising potions books. When he had found one or two, he would take them back up with him to the boys' dormitory. With the drapes secured around his bed, he would spend the rest of the night looking through the books in a safer location.

After almost two weeks of searching he was no closer than he had been when he started. Hope was beginning to run out and his patience was running thin. He hadn't had any more 'outbursts' since hurling those books at Malfoy and he was afraid that he was running out of time.

He took out his Invisibility Cloak from the bottom of his trunk, got out the Marauder's Map and took his wand with him. He snuck down to the common room, and seeing that it was empty, he pulled out his wand and tapped the blank piece of paper while whispering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The blank piece of parchment turned into a map of Hogwarts. There was no one blocking the path Harry would take to the library. He checked that there was no one on the other side of the portrait hole and, seeing that the coast was clear, went out into the hallway. Placing the map securely in his pocket and making sure he was covered by his cloak, he began his slow and silent journey towards the library.

Harry was walking down one of the last corridors before the library when he noticed something coming at him. He stopped, pressed his back against the stone wall of the corridor and waited. A few moments later Mrs. Norris came walking down the hallway. Her pace slowed as she passed by Harry's hiding spot. She stopped to sniff the air and began walking straight for Harry.

Harry held his breath and began to inch his way further down the corridor. He didn't think that the cat could see him but she could probably smell him. After taking one hesitant step he felt a tug at his cloak and realized that he should have acted quicker. Mrs. Norris had gotten so close to him by this point that it seemed she had stepped on his cloak. She stopped and sat down exactly where she was, staring up at Harry.

That darn cat!! Almost every time Harry snuck out using his Invisibility Cloak that cat was there to make trouble for him. Tonight would not be the night he was caught! He pulled out the map to see if Filch was heading this way. It was commonly thought among students that Filch and Mrs. Norris were somehow linked and if Mrs. Norris had decided to hold her ground here, Filch was bound to be on his way. Harry checked his map and saw that Filch was indeed on his way, and would be there in just a few minutes. He needed to get out of there and fast. Harry checked his pockets and found a Filibuster Firework. He took it out and threw it down the hallway, back the way he had come. When it hit the hard floor with a smack, Mrs. Norris hopped off his cloak and headed down the corridor. Harry ran a few feet away and stopped to see if Mrs. Norris had changed directions and was following him.

Harry was relieved to see that she was trotting towards the firework, but instead of stopping when she got to it, she kept going, heading down the hallway. Harry looked past the cat and saw a figure at the other end of the hallway. Whoever it was had obviously seen Mrs. Norris and began running back the way they had come. Harry had a bad feeling about this.

He pulled out the map again and looked at the other end of the hallway. The only two dots in that location were labeled Mrs. Norris... and Ronald Weasley. Harry suddenly remembered the prediction he had overheard in Divination. Ron was about to get in trouble because of him. If he hadn't snuck out at night, Ron wouldn't have gone out to follow him. If he hadn't thrown that Filibuster firework in Ron's direction, Mrs. Norris wouldn't have gone after him. It was so ironic; this was his entire fault even though everything he had done had been to try and prevent Ron and Hermione from being hurt by him. He would not fail now!

Without thinking, Harry began running down the hallway, back towards Ron and Mrs. Norris. Ron had just turned the corner back towards the Gryffindor common room and Mrs. Norris was just a couple meters behind him. Harry didn't want to consider what would happen if Mrs. Norris followed Ron all the way back to the common room. He had to do something, now! He pulled out his wand, leveled it at Mrs. Norris and said the first spell that came to mind, "Expelliarmus!"

Harry's aim was true; Mrs. Norris went flying into the stone wall at the end of the corridor and fell to the floor. When Harry reached Mrs. Norris, he sank to his knees and bent over her. She hadn't moved since hitting the wall and she didn't seem to be breathing.

Harry felt like he was in one of those Muggle cartoons with an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. The angel was saying that he should stay there and try to help Mrs. Norris even though he didn't know any medical spells that could help. The devil was saying that the cat got what had been coming to her for a long time now. With her out of the way, the hallways would be just a little safer for late night rule breakers such as him. Let her be and leave before Filch got there and saw what he had done.

That's exactly what he did. As he walked away from the probably dead cat, he reasoned to himself that he really couldn't do anything for Mrs. Norris and that if Filch caught him, he would be dead too. That was what Filch had said second year when he had thought Harry had killed his cat. Harry didn't want to wait around and find out if he would follow through with his word.

Harry turned to run back to the common room. Since he didn't see Ron in the hallway, he knew that he must have made it back already. What should he say to Ron when he got in? Had Ron even realized that he had been there or had he just been randomly wandering the corridors looking for any sign of him? Did he hear Harry's spell? What if he thought Harry had killed Mrs. Norris on purpose?

Harry had just gotten through the portrait hole and took a moment to consider this in the common room. Had he killed her on purpose? When he had cast the spell he had only been thinking about stopping her from catching up to Ron. Okay, at that moment maybe he had hated the cat, but did that mean he had tried to kill her? Was it even worse if he hadn't? That would mean that he had become capable of performing a spell powerful enough to kill without even stopping to think about the possible consequences. Harry just didn't know, and he was too exhausted to think about the reasons and meanings behind his actions.

He went up to the 5^th year boys' dormitory and opened the door, prepared to face Ron. After closing the door quietly he looked over to Ron's bed and saw that the drapes were closed tight around the bed. Apparently he would be spared that confrontation until another time. Harry put away his map and cloak, lied down on his bed, closed his own drapes and was asleep almost instantly.

He awoke Saturday morning to find the school in an uproar about the death of the caretaker's cat.

(AN: thanx to all those who reviewed; H_Dom, LilSilverPhoenix, potty the snowman, and BlueJeanBaybee. Next chapter ~ a sermon upon the ... tables? and punches are thrown, but maybe not by who you'd think)