Harry Potter and the Path to Power

Chapter IV

"Harry? HARRY?" Hermione almost screamed.

"Calm down Hermione, what's wrong?" Mrs. Weasley asked, thinking the poor girl had finally cracked under the stress of the past days.

"It's Harry, he spoke," Hermione said in a still excited, squealing voice. She was almost smothering Harry whom she had not let go.

"Now calm down, dear; I'm sure if you have a seat and maybe a glass of water..."

"No, mum, I thought I heard him too," Ron said, his voice shaking, his eyes staring towards Harry and Hermione in disbelief.

All eyes were now turned to Harry. "Hello everyone," he whispered raggedly over Hermione's shoulder.

Absolute chaos ensued.

It was as if a volcano of voices erupted and all the questions that were asked or even shouted came down to one thing: How?

"SILENCE."

Professor Dumbledore seldom raised his voice and when he did it worked; the room went silent.

"I think the appropriate thing to say first is: Welcome back, Mister Potter.

The second thing is perhaps: how did you come back to us?" the ancient wizard said with a look on his face that conveyed a multitude of emotions: happiness, relief, disbelief and calculation. Harry thought that not so long ago he would have missed this last aspect, for it was very well hidden; but then again, a lot had changed since then.

At that moment two doctors came running, having been alerted by the nurses who had heard the yelling.

When they saw that Harry was coherent their eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"How......?" they stuttered almost in unison... After a few seconds of pure amazement their training took over:

"Everyone out, we have to examine him," The eldest all but yelled.

"I'm not leaving," Hermione announced in a voice that said she wasn't budging, she was now hugging Harry.

"Me neither," Ron said with the same conviction.

The doctors knew who the two were and didn't want to waste the energy, or especially the time of a discussion.

"Alright, but everyone else leaves," the senior doctor conceded.

Slowly the room emptied until only Hermione, Ron, Sirius, Professor Dumbledore, the two doctors and of course Harry remained.

The doctors didn't say anything about Sirius and Professor Dumbledore but set straight to work.

Harry was poked and prodded all over his body, bright lights were shone into his eyes and all kinds of questions were asked.

The questions were varied:

"What is your name?"

"Do you know who you are?"

"How much is two plus two?"

"What is the basic levitating spell?"

"How did you regain your coherency?" and so on.

A lot of the questions came down to: how is it you're not absolutely bonkers, and are you absolutely sure you aren't?

Harry answered all their questions as precisely as he could, except those that were about his miraculous recovery... he wasn't ready to share that. He wasn't even too sure about it himself.

The Doctors, however, persisted and started to ask questions about what had exactly happened to him.

These Questions only served to bring forth the memory of what Vernon had done to him, the pain he had inflicted, the indignity of it all.

Hate came with this memory; hot, burning hate.

It must have shown on his face because Hermione looked at him worriedly: "Are you alright, Harry?" she asked in a small voice.

The hate throbbed in his veins, flowing like poison... Vernon Dursley, the pain, the humiliation.

Suddenly all the glass in the room shattered with a loud crack. Harry felt some of the anger flow away, but not all of it, and that which he had lost quickly regenerated.

"You must calm down, Mister Potter...Calm down, Harry," Dumbledore said in a soothing voice. The venerable headmaster fixed Harry with his intense light blue eyes and for a moment Harry saw something flash in those bright eyes. Harry felt his anger just slip away. He didn't think this had happened naturally; someone must have used magic... Dumbledore.

After it was apparent that Harry was calm again, Dumbledore took out his wand and made a broad, sweeping gesture around the room and muttered "Reparo," under his breath.

As in a film running backwards, every destroyed object in the room returned to its original form; the glass from the windows that had blown outwards into a small, deserted park flew back up and the windows were restored.

"He... ... seems fine, physically," the younger doctor concluded, unaware of what had passed between headmaster and student, "but we don't understand how, we have to run tests, we have to find out. This could be a breakthrough for..."

"Yes gentleman, but for now I think Harry needs some time with his friends." Dumbledore gently ushered the doctors to the door.

"But...."

A low growl came from Sirius' throat. That or the anger that flashed in Dumbledore's eyes convinced both men it was a good idea to leave.

"Not too many visitors at once," one of them managed to say before exiting the room.

"Harry..." Hermione whispered, still a little dazed.

"It's good to have you back, mate - and just in time for your birthday, too; great timing."

"RON....," Hermione squealed indignantly.

Still the same old Ron and Hermione - Harry had to smile.

"It's good to be back," he whispered. His throat was as dry as parchment. "Water, please." He had wanted water almost as soon as he could talk but hadn't had the chance to ask because of all the questions thrown at him.

The request was barely audible as his voice gave out. Sirius immediately ran to the bathroom and came back with a glass of water. Harry tried to lift his arm to take it from him but found he was too weak to do so.

"Here, let me help you." Ever so gently, Sirius lifted him up and brought the glass to his mouth. Harry took a sip of water. Swallowing hurt his throat but at the same time the water felt like absolute heaven.

"More...."

"Just a little, you haven't had anything to eat or drink in a while and until your system gets used to it again, you'll have to be careful." Sirius gave him another sip and then laid him back on his pillows.

"Do... Do you remember what happened... before...?" Hermione asked.

"I remember it all, every second of it. Everything Vernon did," Harry said, the hate returning to his blood, making it boil.

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes: "Do you remember lying here? In the hospital?"

"Some of it, it's a bit vague, but Sirius was right, I heard and saw everything; I just can't remember it all just now, only bits and pieces.

I had no memory of anything while I was lying here, and remembering anything new was hard.

I didn't even know who you all were." His voice was coming back now; stronger because of the water and the use.

Hermione was now crying without restraint, so was Sirius. Ron looked as if he was struggling to control himself; Dumbledore had a sad look upon his face.

"I think it would be best to rest now for awhile, Mister Potter, and then tell us the whole story."

Harry gratefully closed his eyes; there was so much to process, so many memories.

He felt someone climbing up on his bed and arms being wrapped around him from behind; it was Hermione and just as she had done when he had had no memory, she stroked his forehead: "Sleep, Harry, sleep."

*****

Sometime later he woke up.

One of the doctors was standing next to his bed, wand in hand.

He was moving it up and down Harry's body just a few centimetres above it. It was emitting light at the tip. As he moved his wand, the light sometimes changed.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, you're awake.

I'm happy to report that physically you are in good condition. You will find that your muscles will work better as time passes.

The weakness you experienced was apparently a side effect of your condition, which we for now are terming as 'mind-body disconnection'. We're not sure how this happened, but be assured that we will find out. You should have basic use of your muscles already. "

The prospect of the tests that would be 'necessary' filled Harry with horror.

The Doctor continued, "I'll leave you alone for now. There are several people who want to talk to you, and the press would also like a statement from you."

"The press?" Harry squeaked.

"Yes Mr. Potter, they have been camped out in the hospital's lobby since you arrived here. The whole wizarding world has been following your condition. If you wish, the hospital could make a statement on your behalf..."

"NO... no, no statement. Maybe later," Harry said so fast it was blur.

"Very well Mr. Potter, I'll leave you to your friends now." The doctor looked clearly disappointed; maybe he was the one who would have made the statement?

******

After the doctor's departure Harry tried to get up and found that he could take a few tentative steps.

Slowly he made his way towards the bathroom. His bladder felt as if he hadn't been there in ages. Suddenly he realised this was probably true.

When he was returning to his bed Sirius, Remus, Professor Dumbledore, Hermione, Ron and the other Weasleys walked in.

"HARRY, you shouldn't be out of bed," Mrs. Weasley bristled, immediately stepping forward to support him and help him into bed.

"Men are all the same. They don't see what's good for them, and who has to pick up the pieces? A woman, of course. I pity the woman who ends up with you." During her monologue Mrs. Weasley's tone changed and it was clear that her last words were more teasing then chiding. At least... Harry thought so?

"How are you doing, dear? Have you eaten yet?" Mrs. Weasley was full of motherly concern as always.

"Mum, you know he isn't supposed to have any solid food for awhile yet," Percy said in a pompous voice. "It's good to see you again Harry." And with that Percy took Harry's hand and shook it formally. Once again it was good for Harry to see that some things never changed.

"Hello Harry" Ginny said and immediately blushed.

Harry vaguely remembered seeing her during the period he had no memories or control of his body, but apart from a gnawing sensation that there had been more, he had no other memories of it. "Hi, Gin."

Bill and Charlie just gave him big grins.

Sirius had a look on his face that spoke of a war between worry for Harry and the obligation to stay with him, and anger and the desire to visit a lot of physical harm on Vernon Dursley.

Worry and obligation were winning... for now.

Remus did not look much different except for the occasional worried look for his friend, Padfoot.

Apparently the rest of the party guests had been sent home.

Professor Dumbledore took the chair to Harry's left. "Are you ready to tell us a bit more of what happened, Mr. Potter? We would especially like to hear about your remarkable recovery." The headmaster had the spark in his eyes back.

Everyone took a seat after several chairs were conjured up by the adult wizards.

Feeling a bit embarrassed for being the centre of attention, Harry started to recount the events as they had developed after he had left his friends at platform 9 3/4.

When he told about Vernon's reaction after receiving the letter recounting the tale of Cedric's death, Dumbledore looked sad and somewhat guilty, knowing that this had been an important catalyst for the terrible events on Privet Drive.

After he told about the first time Vernon had hit him, Mrs. Weasley had a shocked look upon her face, as if she had not known something like this had happened.

Slowly, Harry told of the many beatings he had received, feeling somehow compelled to describe them in detail.

Next he described how Vernon had begun to use other means to hurt him, how Vernon liked to break his ribs because they caused him even more pain while breathing.

Mrs. Weasley had to be taken from the room by Bill after that, crying about what had been done to 'the poor boy'.

When Harry told about the use of his own wand as a torture device, the amount of pain it inflicted, both Ginny and Hermione were crying openly.

For a moment Harry faltered, his breathing ragged, but he did not stop there. He felt a strange calm come over him that was disturbed only seldom and then only marginally; there was no anger, pain or any other emotion after that.

He felt a strange distance between him and the story he was telling. He suspected that once more someone was using magic to keep him calm.

As he described how Vernon found out how to inflict different degrees of pain in various part of his body, Ron suddenly lunged for a waste paper basket and vomited.

"Sorry..." he said in a small voice.

Harry continued the story now feeling the urge to finish it before he was unable to, emotions seeping through whatever barrier they had been hidden behind.

Finally he told the about the last day, how he was too weak to do anything and what Vernon had done then: "He put my wand against my scar and whispered 'pain' again." Harry fell quiet for a moment.

When he continued his voice was ragged and faltered over every few words. "It was like nothing I had felt before. The pain was just too much and I felt the life leaving me, as if my very soul was torn from me. Darkness swallowed me up and the only thing I remember is a voice yelling my name..... It sounded a million miles away, yelling but whispering at the same time."

Silence filled the room now that his story had ended.

"That was me," said Remus in a soft voice. "That voice was me.

Ron had owled Sirius and me several times. He said he was worried about not hearing from you. I was supposed to check on you a week earlier but... something interfered. I'm so very, very sorry." The guilt was heavy in his voice.

"It's not your fault, Professor Lupin. Really..."

"Thank you, Harry." But somehow the former professor did not look convinced.

Lupin continued: "The fireplace in your house was connected to the floo system so I could travel in and out to check on you.

When I arrived... well you just told us what was going on.

I immediately tied up Dursley and..."

"You should have killed him," growled Sirius, interrupting his friend.

"Maybe, but I didn't.

Anyway, I used the fireplace in the living room to contact St. Mungo's and then Hogwarts. The wards were immediately lifted and several Doctors apparated to Privet Drive.

It was touch and go for a while, but finally they stabilized you enough to bring you here.

After they treated your injuries, you didn't come to; they concluded that your... mind was gone. You had signs of prolonged exposure to magical torture and..." Remus' voice trailed off, the look in his eyes forlorn.

"Yes, that poses an interesting question Remus," Professor Dumbledore said, "Do you know how you kept your mind intact and came back to us at that particular moment, Mr. Potter?"

At that moment Harry realized he had not told about the separate space he had created in his mind. Why hadn't he? Even now he felt reluctant to tell this to everyone...

He trusted the people here but he just didn't want to tell them, not yet, not before he, himself, better understood what he had done. "No, I have no idea," Harry said in an unsure voice.

Dumbledore looked him straight in the eye and Harry felt... no, he knew that the headmaster was aware of the lie.

"That quite alright, maybe you'll remember later, my boy." Apparently Dumbledore was willing to let the deception stand, for now.

Feeling that Harry did not want to continue, the rest of the afternoon was filled with chitchat clearly meant to put Harry at ease.

"You've grown Ron." Harry said at sometime during the conversation.

"You think I've grown? You're in for a bit of a shocker, mate; wait till you see a mirror." Ron replied with a big grin.

What did Ron mean by this Harry wondered. Oh well, it was probably nothing.

"Uhm, Professor?" Harry directed at Dumbledore.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"The doctor said something about reporters and a statement...."

"Don't worry Mr. Potter, I will take care of that if you wish me to," the headmaster said with an understanding grin.

"Yes, please."

Suddenly it dawned on him: "Sirius, what the hell are you doing here? You'll get caught. We have to get you..."

"Don't worry Harry," Sirius interrupted. "This ward has been closed off from the public.

The only outsiders that know I'm here are the two doctors and four nurses that work here. They know about my innocence and are friends; actually they are members of..."

Suddenly Remus Lupin coughed loudly.

"Are you alright, Professor?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Not to worry, quite alright. And you, Ron and Harry really should call me Remus. I'm not a professor anymore."

Hermione blushed furiously at this suggestion. "Of course.... Remus," she said shyly.

The rest of the conversation was filled with talk of the holidays until one of the nurses walked in and announced that 'Mr. Potter needed his rest and they should all leave' her tone brooked no insolence and everyone complied after saying goodbye.

One by one they all left, but when Professor Dumbledore was about to leave, Harry asked him to stay for a little while more.

"Of course, Harry."

******

When everyone else had left he looked at Harry with a small twinkling in his eyes. "I imagine you have many questions Harry... go ahead, ask them."

"You know I haven't told you everything, don't you?" Harry began.

Dumbledore held up his hand and interrupted Harry: "It is your story to tell, Harry, and I trust you will do so in due time. But I'm sure you have other questions."

"Before I tell you the whole story, and I will tell it, I do have a few questions, starting with Vernon. What has been done with him and how was he able to use my wand? He's a Muggle, isn't he?"

"To understand the answer to your first question, you must first know the answer to your second question.

Vernon Dursley was able to use your wand because he is an Adept." Dumbledore quickly continued, anticipating Harry's next question.

"What is an Adept, you surely wonder?

An Adept is basically not a wizard, not a Muggle but something in between although, much closer to a Muggle. An Adept has one or two particular talents in magic, something to strengthen more mundane abilities.

What we usually see is a physical adept.

This is a person who can perform physical feats, feats that are impossible for ordinary Muggles. They are the world's greatest athletes or the people whom you read about in the newspaper; they perform feats of strength thought to be impossible for them; usually to save a fellow human being, in anger or under other extreme circumstances.

What all these people have in common is that they have a tiny spark of magic in them that lends them those abilities.

In Vernon Dursley's case... well he is not a physical adept, he is rather more unique.

He has a gift that is more magically inclined; his gifts run towards pain." Here Dumbledore paused for a moment as if to collect his thoughts, and then continued.

"He was able to use a wand, your wand, for one purpose and one purpose only: to inflict pain.

This talent also came with an instinctive knowledge how to best use this ability and the need to do so.

Unfortunately, there is no way to discover these individuals; the spark of magic in them is just too small and what they do isn't really cast spells so we can't detect it." Dumbledore had a very sad look on his face, the twinkling was gone.

"And what has been done with him?" Harry asked in a quiet voice.

"He has been taken into custody by the Ministry of Magic and will be tried according to wizard law as the crime was committed, at least in part, by magic."

Dumbledore's expression turned even graver.

"I had wanted to spare you this news for a little while longer... but since we are now on the subject... the trial is in one week and now that you are back with us, you will be expected to attend and testify."

Harry was silent for awhile taking in this news.

Thoughts ran through his head; facing Vernon, punishing him, the gleeful face that had tormented him, revenge.

"I want to be there, I want to see Vernon punished for what he has done to me. Make sure that he is unable to do it to anyone else," Harry said in a vengeful tone.

Again Harry felt his anger and hate rise and again it suddenly seemed to just seep away.

He looked at Dumbledore sharply and asked: "Are you using magic to keep me calm, Professor?"

"Yes Harry, I am. I have very little choice in the matter as you have displayed several acts of accidental magic already, some of which you might not even be aware of.

I already suspect what has happened to you, but I have to hear it in your own words. Would you tell me what happened? How did you keep your persona intact?"

Harry didn't say anything for awhile and then suddenly said, "I left a few things out of my story... a few things I want no one to know.

But if I have to tell someone, I guess it would best be you, Professor.

What I didn't tell was that the pain wasn't the worst thing about the... entire experience. It was what I felt I would have done to stop the pain."

Harry fell silent again. Dumbledore seemed to be content to let him take his own time.

Abruptly Harry started talking, his voice full of emotion.

"I would have done anything to stop the pain.

I would have crawled, begged, lied... anything.

I would have stolen, maimed, even killed... Anything that Vernon wanted." Slowly tears began to stream from Harry's eyes while they stared off into oblivion.

The worst thing was that I felt that if the pain would continue much longer, I would kill even those close to me, to end it...... even Ron... Hermione... Sirius... you."

Harry's voice was now no more than a whisper; his eyes didn't see what was before him but saw all that Vernon Dursley had done to him.

"I felt I would lose myself, go crazy if it were to continue, and I was afraid that I might actually do all those things; so with everything I had left, I... parted my mind, I have no better way to describe it.

In that separate part of me, that secure holding, I put everything that was important to me, including my love for my friends, my memories and feeling of Hogwarts, the few things I know about my parents; everything I felt as good in my live and everything I felt was important in my life. Those things I locked away, no one would be able to touch them... the rest I sacrificed."

After a while Dumbledore said in quiet but strong voice: "I have to ask Harry, did you put your magic there as well?"

"Yes," Harry replied with a hoarse voice, "that is one of the things I value most in my life, it is what makes me more than useless, not like the Dursleys always said. It was what first took me away from them. Through it I met everyone who is dear to me and...

and it allowed me to see my parents." Whatever restraint Harry had had left, be it of himself or given to him, was now gone and the tears flowed freely from his eyes; eyes that had seen too much.

"Remember Harry, that you have friends that love you, and not because of your magic," Dumbledore replied in a kind voice.

"I am sorry you had to relive those memories twice today, but it was necessary... both for me to know and for you to tell."

"So many memories," Harry whispered, his voice ragged, his face now as white as the sheet of his bed, "so many things I want to forget."

"Sleep for now Harry, so you may forget for a little while.

I will make the sleep dreamless, I promise."

Gently and with a paternal smile, Dumbledore pulled up the blankets and tucked in Harry.

"Sleep, my boy, sleep."

Exhausted by what he had had to relive that day and with a little help from Dumbledore, Harry slept. No dreams troubled him, as promised.