Harry Potter and the Power Unknown

--Chapter Thirteen: Return to Number Twelve--

Dumbledore looked down at the newly appeared Harry with a mixture of surprise and relief on his face. Harry, too weak to stand, simply rolled over and looked up at the headmaster, relieved that he was finally safe. He opened his hand an allowed the portkey to fall to the ground with a clunk.

"Dumbledore, what...?" Lupin said as he poked his head around a doorway to see what the commotion was. "Oh my God..." he said finally after looking from Harry to Dumbledore now crouched over Snape and back to Harry. His brain seemed to register what had just happened, and he rushed passed Dumbledore to Harry's side immediately. "Harry! What happened? Are you alright? Where have you been? How did you escape?"

Harry not immediately answer, so Lupin helped Harry to his feet and they followed Dumbledore up the stairs after watching him magic Snape onto a stretcher.

"Are you hurt?" Lupin asked after seeing Harry wince and clutch his ribs.

"Nothing I can't live with," Harry replied weakly.

Once in the spare bedroom, Dumbledore magiked Snape onto a bed, then turned to Lupin and said, "Remus, I need you to send for Matilda Westing at St. Mungo's."

Lupin nodded and left the room.

Harry sat in a wooded chair in the corner and turned to Dumbledore. Nodding in Snape's direction he asked, "Will he be alright?"

"Yes, I believe so," answered Dumbledore. "He has some internal injuries and his muscles seem to be torn in quite a few places. I do not have the ability to heal these, which is why I asked Professor Lupin to call on Madam Westing."

"Who is she?" Harry asked.

"Madam Westing is a healer at St. Mungo's and she is also in the Order. We can trust her to avoid asking questions or drawing unnecessary attention to certain patients," replied Dumbledore.

Neither Harry nor Dumbledore spoke again until Lupin returned.

Once Lupin took a seat at Snape's bedside Dumbledore said, "Alright, Harry, I need to know exactly what went on during your captivity. You have been gone for a little over two days, so anything you can remember can help the Order."

Harry launched into his experience in as much detail as he could remember; Lupin's head popped up and his eyes widened as Harry explained Voldemort's offer about Sirius. Harry explained the hours of torture by Bellatrix, Voldemort's frustration with his strength, which lead to Harry's torture in front of Snape, and finally Snape's revelation of the prophecy. Harry thought he noticed Dumbledore's face fall slightly when he mentioned Snape's betrayal, but the defeated look vanished as quickly as it had come. Anxious to change the subject, Harry described the intense agony he felt when Voldemort touched his scar.

"He touched my forehead twice," Harry said, "once when he took me from Hogsmede and again after Snape told him the prophecy." He put a hand up to his scar and wiped some of the caked blood off his forehead. "I think he caused my scar to open and bleed. First he was torturing me under the Cruciatus Curse and the Burning Spell, which is I guess why Snape felt he had to tell the prophecy."

Dumbledore looked over at Lupin and smiled slightly, and Harry's curiosity caused him to ask, "What is it?"

Dumbledore glanced back at Harry and answered, "Remus thought that if it came down to you or the prophecy..."

"Snape would have sacrificed you to protect the contents of the prophecy," Lupin finished, looking at his feet.

Harry shrugged. "I was a little surprised myself, but the prophecy isn't really worth protecting if I'm dead, right?"

Lupin nodded. "But I'm assuming that once Voldemort heard the entire contents, he tried to kill you anyway, right?" Harry nodded in response. "So then how were you able to create a portkey to escape?" Lupin inquired. "Well, even more importantly, how did you gain enough magic back in order to even create a portkey?"

Harry hesitated; he was reluctant to talk about the power transfer spell in front of Dumbledore since the headmaster made it perfectly clear not to resort to any spells to cure his ailing magic.

"Er..." Harry began.

"It was an energy transfer spell."

Harry and Lupin jumped at the sound of Snape's voice. "I could do nothing to help Potter by then, Headmaster," Snape went on weakly, attempting to sit up in his bed. "But he apparently has learned the spell on his own."

Harry quickly turned back to Dumbledore. "It was all I could think of to do, sir! I was really out of it and the pain in my head was so bad, I couldn't think of anything else to do and all I needed was enough energy to..."

Dumbledore lifted a hand and interrupted, "There is no need for explanations, Harry. Exactly what spell did you use?

"Evalesco Delego just as Voldemort touched my scar, then Imperimenta once I had enough magic. It blew a crater in the ground and shot everyone away from me."

"I see," said Dumbledore. "Well, I will not patronize you by telling you how risky that was because it seemed to prove effective, but I am disappointed that you did not consult me about this, Harry. We shall talk more about this spell later."

Harry nodded apologetically, and then something suddenly occurred to him. He looked at Dumbledore, panic on his face, and began a desperate explanation of his thoughts. "I left in such a panic... I wasn't thinking, I mean... what if he really has Sirius? I just left him there..."

"Don't be stupid, Potter!" grunted Snape in a surprisingly strong voice for such a weakened man. "Black is dead!"

Lupin stood up and swiftly advanced on Snape. "You must have some nerve calling him stupid after he saved your life!"

"He nearly killed me by that stunt he pulled!" retorted Snape.

"That's enough!" Dumbledore interrupted as he did so many times between Snape and Lupin. "Both of you get a hold on yourselves. Please sit down, Remus; Severus, please try to rest. What is done cannot be undone, so we need to move on and focus on more pressing matters." He turned back to Harry. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm afraid Voldemort was lying to you. There is no way Sirius could have survived his fall through the veil. I believe Voldemort was simply praying on your ignorance about the Death Chamber."

Harry, desperate to prove Dumbledore wrong, plunged on. "Last summer I heard voices behind that veil, so I know there is something alive in there! Plus, what about the mirror? It can't be my dad's, and Sirius had the only other one!"

"Am I correct in assuming," Dumbledore asked, turning to Lupin, "that James and Sirius were not the only ones to have a two-way mirror?"

"All the Mauraders had one of those mirrors, Harry," Lupin responded sadly. "I didn't even know Sirius had given James' mirror to you last year or else I would have reminded you to use it, and I would have told you I had one. My guess is Voldemort had Wormtail's. It was no use after he faked his death, and Sirius and I put a blocking charm on ours against it two years ago anyway. Voldemort must have heard what the mirrors do from Wormtail and decided to trick you. I'm sorry, Harry. As much as I want Sirius to be alive, it just isn't possible."

Harry slumped down in his chair and let a wave of depression and exhaustion rush over him. Snape began to groan in pain, and his suffering did nothing but annoy Harry. He wanted to leave the room and be alone; he always knew deep down that Sirius did not survive that fall, but part of him was still clinging to the hope that he would find Sirius and maybe someday laugh about his greatest joke that was faking his own death.

A few moments later, there was a knock on the door, so Lupin strolled over to open it and reveal Madam Westing, looking pale. She was a short woman, about the height of Madam Sprout, with short, tightly curled white hair. Her age was hard to determine by her face, but a slight stiffness in her walk told Harry she was probably in her late 70's. Without a word, Madam Westing headed over to the bed where Snape lay. She hovered over him for a few minutes, whispering spells and mixing potions.

After fifteen minutes of this she straightened up and stretched, then turned to Dumbledore and said in a deep, slightly raspy voice, "He's going to be fine. It's a good thing school is out, because he will need to rest for a good couple of days."

"Thank you, Matilda. Will you have a look at Harry as well?" Dumbledore asked.

Madam Westing's wide eyes floated over to Harry and rested on him for a bit as if just noticing him for the first time. Her dreamy gaze reminded Harry of Luna Lovegood.

Harry rolled his eyes rather obviously and made to stand up to leave the room. "I'm fine, really," he insisted.

"Please, Harry," Lupin said, "just let her check you."

Groaning irritably, Harry slumped back down into his chair and allowed Madam Westing to wave her wand around his head. Harry observed her enter a trance-like state as her eyes rolled into the back of her head; then suddenly, a warm, comfortable feeling filled Harry's insides. He related the feeling to the calm glow that was the Imperious Curse, but there was no voice in his head asking him to perform ridiculous (and usually dangerous) feats. The warmth seemed to spread from his previously aching head all the way down to his toes; He was so enthralled that Madam Westing's conversation with Dumbledore seemed miles away.

"From what I can see, Albus," she began, the whites of her eyes showing as her eyelids fluttered frantically, "Mr. Potter has sustained tremendous amounts of pain. His muscles have some minor damage due to what was probably hours worth of the Cruciatus Curse, and his scar may be sore for a few days while it re-heals. My suggestion is that he receives plenty of rest and relaxation, especially over the next few days." She lifted her wand and opened her eyes, allowing Harry's euphoria to dissipate slowly. "I would also suggest performing the Relaxation Spell on him for the next couple of nights to ensure he sleeps well."

Harry allowed his body to relax as he tried to hang onto every bit of warmth slowly seeping out of his body. His pain did not return, and all he felt like doing was head up the stairs and into bed.

"Thank you, Matilda," Dumbledore said again. "Remus, will you please assist Harry up the stairs and into bed? Try to avoid any prying eyes- I would rather The Weasleys and Miss Granger visit him tomorrow."

Lupin nodded and helped Harry to his feet, then gently guided him out the door and up the stairs. Harry stumbled along drunkenly, occasionally giggling and smiling at nothing as they passed more guest bedrooms. Finally, they reached the top stair and entered into Sirius' former bedroom. Harry looked around, vaguely realizing he had never seen this room before, but he was unable to absorb his surroundings due to his extreme desire to sleep. Lupin left the room and closed the door behind him; without undressing Harry crawled into bed and immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

XxxxxxXxxxxxX

Harry woke the next morning to the smell of sausage with a slight pain in his back. He winced at the pain, but was thankful he was not as sore as he expected. He checked his watch, which read 10:13, so he dressed and headed down the stairs.

As was to be expected, the crowd of people made a big commotion as soon as Harry entered the room. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione both squeezed him in rib-splitting hugs, Mr. Weasley shook his hand vigorously and Ron, unable to contain himself, patted Harry on the back several times without realizing how hard he was doing it.

"Oh, Harry, I was so worried!" Hermione said, tears running down her cheeks. "I wouldn't know what to do if you... if you..." She trailed off, sniffling and wiping her eyes.

Harry glanced around the room and suddenly noticed that the one person he was longing to see was missing from the group. He stopped and looked around, then spotted her sitting by herself across the room. She seemed lost in her thoughts while gazing out a nearby window.

"Ginny?" Harry asked as he approached her carefully.

"It's strange, isn't it?" she began in a far-off voice. "It's strange how we take the most important things in life for granted."

Harry looked at her, perplexed as to why she was saying this. He opened his mouth to respond, but she looked up and smiled at him.

"I'm glad you're alright, Harry," she said, rising out of her chair and embracing him. She released him and walked toward the rest of the crowd, and then stopped and turned around. "By the way, thanks for saving my life," she added.

He smiled and offered her a hand, which she took and followed him to the rest of the party.

For a few shining hours, Harry forgot all about his horrible experience in the captivity of Voldemort. Just like on his birthday, his company seemed to absorb all his problems and worries. No one inquired about his experience and he was not exactly anxious to elaborate, so eventually his thoughts about Voldemort, Sirius and Snape vanished.

XxxxxxXxxxxxX

Christmas approached rapidly, and to the delight of Harry and most staying with him, Snape left Headquarters as soon as he was well enough to walk out the door. Harry enjoyed every moment he spent with the Weasley's, whom he considered his real family now that Sirius was gone. He also relished the fact that his magic was now back in full force. The effects of absorbing Voldemort's energy did not seem to wear off, and Harry was eager to keep it that way. He asked Dumbledore for private lessons over break to help him gain control over his seemingly "uncontrollable" power, but Dumbledore warned him of the consequences of keeping Voldemort's magic.

"You must not get greedy for power, Harry. You have your own magic that you have not tapped into yet, and there is no need to rush to release it," Dumbledore cautioned during their lesson on Christmas Eve.

"Yes, sir," answered Harry obediently, but secretly he was already wishing for more. He avoided Dumbledore's eyes every time this subject came up; if there was any Occlumens who rivaled Voldemort and Snape, it was Dumbledore. It began from a desire to be as powerful as possible when he finally had to face Voldemort, but now he enjoyed magic obeying his thoughts rather than a wave of his wand. He kept this opinion to himself, however; he did not think Hermione or even Ron would approve.

Christmas at Number Twelve was surprisingly the best in Harry's memory. He received mountains of gifts from the Weasleys and Hermione, but best of all Harry learned that Kreacher, upon hearing of Harry's return to Grimmauld Place, attempted to leave the house in search of other Black family members. Dumbledore informed Harry that Kreacher was sent to Azkaban for his betrayal against the charms of his kind, and would remain there (to Hermione's horror) for at least six months.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry spent little time without each other in the following weeks. Dumbledore was now informing Harry of the Order's attempts to track certain Death Eaters to where Voldemort may be hiding, and Harry promptly shared this information with his friends. Hermione, however, kept up a relentless spray of nags at Harry to discuss his power transfer experience with Dumbledore.

"I told you," Harry insisted, "we already discussed it."

"You didn't discuss it with him, Harry; you simply told him you did it!" Hermione protested, watching Harry wordlessly levitate objects without his wand. "This isn't normal, and... WATCH IT!" she exclaimed as one of the levitating books exploded just over her head.

Harry grinned innocently. "Oops! Sorry, Hermione."

She glared at him. "And you need to learn some control!"

As though Dumbledore had read Hermione's mind from afar, a letter came for Harry just a few days before the start of spring term.

Harry,

We shall continue our lessons each Saturday in the Room of Requirement once classes resume. After our lessons, you are to conduct DA meetings for all who wish to attend. We have much to discuss; your choice to use a power transfer spell may have more dire consequences than you realize. I shall see you in a few days.

Professor Dumbledore

"Doesn't sound too happy, does he?" Ron asked, reading the note over Harry's shoulder.

Harry knew Ron was right, but he said nothing. Frustrated, he tossed the note aside and climbed the stairs alone to the master bedroom. How could Dumbledore want him to go back to having no magic at all? Wasn't he now in a better, safer position than he was when he was taken from Hogsmede? Fuming, he threw himself onto the bed and fell into a restless sleep, plagued by dreams of being at the mercy of Lord Voldemort, powerless to defend himself.

XxxxxxXxxxxxX

"It seems the boy has become an even larger problem, my Lord. His powers have returned in full."

Harry turned with rage to the short, balding, watery-eyed man and said, "I am aware of the situation, Wormtail, and I can assure you: everything is going to plan."

"I... I don't understand, my Lord," Wormtail said shakily.

An evil grin spread across Harry's face, and he said, "Potter's magic will not save him, Wormtail. He shall no longer know what I am planning. He will no longer have access to my thoughts and feelings, and he will soon wish that he died in my custody."

He put a long-fingered hand in his pocket, withdrew his wand and waved it in a sudden jerking motion, and a blinding pain seemed to rip through his mind, tearing his brain in two...

Jerking awake, Harry instinctively put a hand to his forehead and rubbed his scar, sweat dripping down his temples. His mind felt oddly clear and empty, as if part of it was missing. He realized with a shock that Lord Voldemort had severed the link between them; his first thought was to inform Dumbledore immediately, but the weight off his mind was so soothing, he decided he would rather get a decent night's sleep. His head hit the pillow, and a slight smile crossed his face. No matter what the consequences, Harry knew he would not miss the intrusion into the dangerous thoughts of Voldemort.