Harry Potter and the Orb of Power

            Chapter 8: The Fallout

    There was a loud buzzing sound that filled the air, humming right in Harry's ear. He tried to shake his head, but he felt unable to move. The buzzing got louder, and changed into the sound of screaming. People screaming everywhere, painful, excruciating. He grimaced, and tried to move, but he could not. The screaming got louder, and Harry was not surprised that he found himself screaming in agony. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, and all he saw was a grey haze. The screams became a high pitched cold laughter, a cackle that chilled Harry to the bones. He shuddered, felt himself growing colder and colder. He closed his eyes again, and then fainted.

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    Harry woke up in pain, his body covered with dull aches and sores. He opened his eyes and saw clearly; he was in the Leaky Cauldron, in a bedroom. Harry tried to remember how he got into the room, but his memory failed him. His scar twinged a bit, but the pain then subsided. He tried to get up, when a soothing, melodius voice spoke to him.

    "Do not try to move, Harry Potter. You will only succeed in hurting more than you are hurting now." Harry felt cold still; he was nervous about this person speaking to him. He heard a gentle laugh that comforted him somehow. "Do not worry, Harry Potter. I will not hurt you, nor do I intend on doing so. I am only here to help you through the pain. You have suffered some grievous injuries, Harry Potter, and you must be nursed through them." Harry tried to remember being grievously injured, but once again his memory failed him. He tried to speak, but only a raspy croak escaped from his throat. He gulped, and felt his lips were incredibly dry.

    "Water," he managed to croak out, his throat burning from the effort.

    "Dehydration is a symptom of your injury, Harry Potter. Yes, I will give you some water." He heard movement, and a few moments later felt an ice cold water slide down his throat. The water was soothing; Harry felt the pain ebb away. He closed his eyes, and then forced himself to sit up. He looked around, and couldn't see anyone.

    "Hello?" Harry said reluctantly. He received no answer. He shook himself, and he tried to roll himself out of the bed. He couldn't, however, and he allowed himself to remain in bed. "Is anyone here?" Again, there was no answer. Harry's thoughts floated back to the events at Diagon Alley. He tried to piece together the sequence of events, and tried to ascertain the importance of them. Why would Voldemort and his Death Eaters go through so much trouble to set a Vipertooth loose on the populace, only to kill it later? Or did they kill it? Voldemort had performed a spell Harry never even heard of; Harry didn't even think Hermione knew what it was. Harry suddenly felt panic slide back into his body. Where was Hermione? Was she ok? Did she get out of Diagon Alley alive? He tried to bolt out of bed, but felt a restraining force on his bed.

    "Please, Harry Potter, for your own good, rest in your bed," the melodius voice said once again. "You cannot get out of bed and expect to heal." Harry didn't know if this voice was benevolent or not, but he had to risk it.

    "Where is Hermione?" he asked impatiently.

    "She is fine, Harry Potter. She is in the next room over, telling a very good friend of mine what had happened. Of course, she hasn't been as hurt as you, so she was the first to be questioned. You, on the other hand, must rest more."

    "But why? I wasn't hurt that much. Just my scar, as always. I'm perfectly fine."

    "Yes, Harry Potter, no physical damage was done to you, I quite agree. However, you used up quite a lot of your energy with that quite powerful Shield Charm. And, most unfortunately, you were awake as I pulled you from Diagon Alley. The process is painless if you were properly asleep, but you resisted the full effect of the charm, and lay awake. I suspect a couple of moments ago, you saw a grey haze and felt pain all over?" Harry paused, about to answer, but then kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to offer any information to a stranger he knew nothing about. But the voice was so calming, so disarming, that he felt himself responding anyways.

    "Yes...and the screaming. I heard screaming."

    "Curious, Harry Potter, very curious. I cannot explain that as well as I would like, but no matter. You should be all right. In a few moments, my friend will be here to talk to you. Finite Incantantem!" Harry rolled out of bed, and realized that the voice had put a charm on him that made him stay in bed. He was still in his tattered muggle clothing from Diagon Alley. His glasses were repaired, and the pain that was once so pained was completely gone from his body. He shook his head, and then looked in the mirror.

    "You've seen better days, boy," the mirror said back. Harry grimaced, acknowledging that the mirror was indeed quite right. Harry knew that the incident at Diagon Alley had left him worse than he had been, but it wasn't as bad as last year. When he let Cedric die. It almost happened again; he almost got Hermione killed. A cold shiver crawled across Harry's skin when he thought of the possibility of Hermione dead at the hands of Lord Voldemort. He couldn't bear the thought of it, the possibility of his friends murdered by the ruthless killer. Harry felt infuriated, angry that he was being careless and putting his friends into mortal danger. This time countless civilians died at the hands of Voldemort. He could have stunned him anytime, if only he had acted sooner. Harry cursed himself for being so clumsy, for not taking the opportunity that he had. He had to be more careful; Harry would not stand a repeat of an incident like Cedric's death. It was bad enough that Cedric had died because of Harry's stupidity, Harry couldn't bear having anyone else's death on his conscience.

    "Hello, Harry," a familiar voice came from behind him. He turned and saw his headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, standing in the doorway.

    "Professor! What are you doing here?" Harry asked, exasperated. He didn't expect Hogwart's headmaster to be here to interrogate Harry.

    "Taking care of things before the Ministry bungles them further," Dumbledore said icily. Harry could tell that Dumbledore was under a lot of stress; he wore his age more prominently, it seemed to weigh him down more. The benign twinkle in his eyes was still there, but muted, faded.

    "Are you all right, Professor?" Harry asked him, concerned. Dumbledore's eyes lifted to Harry's, and for a moment there was a deep understanding that Harry seldom felt when he looked into Dumbledore's eyes. Harry understood that things were worsening.

    "Much as I feared, Harry, things in the wizarding world have taken a sharp turn for the worst. Not as bad as today, however, attacks such as these have not become a daily occurance," Dumbledore said, with almost an attempt at a comforting tone. However, Harry felt assured that there was a "yet" in Dumbledore's tone that he did not reveal. He resigned contently into nodding and listening to his headmaster. "Fudge has continued to blindly reject Voldemort's revival, and has launched a campaign to convince the wizarding world otherwise."

    "I saw it today, Professor. He's been insulting me, although I don't understand what good it will do."

    "I know this has been difficult, Harry. You must understand, everyone believed that you were the world's savior. It was a role too heavy for anyone to bear, and especially worse for you, considering your circumstances. Those that placed impossible importance on your survival of the attack have been twice as hurt now that Voldemort has come back. They feel betrayed, even though it is not your fault at all," Dumbledore said. "It is not their fault, Harry. Although the last fifteen years have been exceptionally quiet, the wizarding world has had precious few moments of rest from turmoil. For them, it seemed that everything came to an end when Voldemort disappeared that night."

    "And for you, Professor?" Harry asked, looking straight into Dumbledore's eyes.

    "Alas, Harry, for me it was just a trough in activity, a breather until the next conflict came."

    "And how did you know that Voldemort was still alive?" Harry asked, trying to find out exactly what Dumbledore knew.

    "That, Harry, we will save for a rainy day. Now, I must attend to business. The Ministry wizards will be arriving shortly, and we must get your story before them." Harry launched into his story, from the very beginning. He told Dumbledore about his dream, about his aunt, about the vampire bat, and the Diagon Alley attack. Dumbledore listened quietly, absorbing every detail. When Harry finished, Dumbledore sighed, looking as old as Harry ever saw. He rubbed his temples, as if trying to alleviate a migraine or a headache. He looked at Harry.

    "Things don't seem that bad, Professor. Maybe we can find a way to get Voldemort while he's still mortal," Harry said, feeling hope sink away as he saw Dumbledore in such a sad state.

    "Perhaps Harry. Although there will be no "we". You must focus on your studies, and leave dealing with Voldemort to those who have taken up the responsiblity." Dumbledore sighed, and stood up. "You're as brave as always, Harry, but I must ask you to refrain from any adventures this year at Hogwarts. Things are too dangerous for you to be breaking the rules this year. Although I've been lenient with you," Dumbledore said, the twinkle in his eyes regaining some of their vivacity, "I'm afraid I can't give you that luxery this year. I hope you understand."

    "Yes, Professor." Harry looked up at his headmaster. "Who will be interrogating me now?"

    "I hope a friend of ours. Now tell the truth, leave no detail untold. Fudge will be looking for any way to slander you, so you have to keep up your image, as loathesome as that sounds," Dumbledore said with a smile. In the blink of an eye, Dumbledore was gone, just as a Ministry wizard strolled into Harry's room. Harry didn't recognize the wizard, but he sat down on his bed, and recounted his story to the wizard. However, Harry had to betray his promise to Dumbledore. He refused to mention Sirius, hoping that Hermione also remembered to keep quiet. The wizard took down Harry's exact words (unlike Rita Skeeter, from last year) and then excused himself. He was not allowed to leave his room quite yet, so Harry plopped into his bed, and slept.

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    Harry woke up, feeling a bit dazed from his nap. He yawned, rolled out of the bed, and then stretched. He opened the door to his room, and found that he could leave. They must be letting me go now, Harry thought as he exited his room. He wondered where they were keeping Hermione. He knocked next door, and luckily managed to find his friend.

    "Harry!" she yelled, hugging him fiercely.

    "I'm all right, Hermione!" Harry said laughing. "Are you ok?"

    "Never better. A bit more jumpy than usual, but no physical harm," Hermione said smiling. The gash on her head was now fully healed, and she didn't seem to be injured in a bit.

    "I'm sorry you had to go through that, you weren't supposed to have to face Vol...You-Know..."

    "Voldemort." Harry looked surprisedly at Hermione. She looked anxious as she uttered his name, but she stood resolute. "Dumbledore told me about him, about how he is just a mortal wizard like you or me. He may have more magic, but he won't bully me into being afraid at his name," Hermione said, bristling with an energy that Harry rarely saw Hermione exude. Harry smiled at Hermione.

    "What was that spell Voldemort used on that dragon?" Harry asked.

    "I'm not sure. I've never heard of its derivitave before. It's probably ancient magic, or really Dark magic, he wouldn't use any other. Well...it seems pointless to me that Voldemort would go through all that trouble to set loose a Vipertooth only to kill it. It might have had affects that we didn't stick around to see," Hermione said thoughtfully. The two of them exited the pub, and stopped dead in their tracks.

    Diagon Alley was in utter ruin. Gringott's had a gaping hole where the entrance used to be. Corpses littered the streets as Ministry wizards covered the bodies in sheets. Several of the shops were still burning bright green flames; Eyelops Owl Emporium's owls were fleeing or badly injured from the burns. There were explosion marks on the street's cobblestone. The fallout was horrific, more than Harry could stand. Above the street, the Dark Mark sparkled against the darkening sky. Several Ministry were trying to remove it from the sky, but the emerald green stars were only glowing brighter. Harry thought it ironic; the harder the Ministry tried to deny Voldemort's continued existance, the more evident his arrival had become. He shook his head as he walked with Hermione through the rubble.

    "Where's Snuffles?" Hermione whispered.

    "I don't know, but I'm sure he got away," Harry said, more to convince himself than Hermione. He and Hermione saw a witch struggling with a Ministry wizard.

    "Where's my husband? We've got to find him!" she was screaming madly. The Ministry wizard just held her back from the burning rubble of Gringotts.

    "We can't let you go in, the structure is unstable!" the wizard said to the hysterical witch. Harry saw another victim, a little girl, wandering lost among the rubble. Hermione gasped and ran over to the girl.

    "Have you seen my mommy?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes.

    "We'll help you find her," Hermione said looking at Harry. Harry nodded, and knelt in front of the girl.

    "Where was the last time you saw her?" Harry asked. The girl scrunched her face, trying to hold back her tears.    

    "We were eating ice cream and a monster came and then I couldn't find her!" she sobbed. Hermione took the hand of the little girl when Harry went to ask a Ministry wizard for help. He poked the wizard on the shoulder.

    "Sir, sir, this little girl is lost, she needs to find her mother," he said quickly. The wizard turned around. Harry didn't recognize him, but when Harry noticed the familiar eye-flick to his forehead, he knew the Ministry wizard noticed him.

    "You! Get away from here! Haven't you done enough damage?" the Ministry wizard yelled. He started to walk away.    

    "But this girl needs help!" Harry yelled, but the wizard ignored him. He turned and saw Hermione, looking helpless, trying to console the little girl. Harry felt anger well up in him, but he refused to let himself lose control. He felt his mind clearing up, and he thought of a solution.     

    "I bet most of the people who survived were taken to the Leaky Cauldron like us. Let's check there," he said quickly. Hermione nodded, and they three of them walked towards the inn. After a few moments of searching, Harry was relieved to have reunited the girl with her mother, who thanked Harry. Harry smiled weakly, and then turned to Hermione. She had a pale look on her face.

    "This is awful, just awful."

    "I know, Hermione. It'll be all right, the Ministry will fix it," he said, not quite believing what he was saying.

    "No, they won't," Hermione said, catching Harry's lie. "You know just as well as I do that they'll just cover it up, until the next time something like this happens. It won't stop until something huge happens, and by that time, it'll be too late," Hermione said bitterly.

    "Don't give up hope, Hermione. Dumbledore will find a way to stop Voldemort," Harry said.

    "He didn't last time," Hermione said. The two of them sat, and let Hermione's last statement hang in the air, unanswered. Harry didn't know what to say.

    "But he didn't give up hope," a voice said behind them. Harry turned, and saw a familiar friend. Arthur Weasley was standing behind them, a grim look on his face. He was pale as he looked down on the two of them, realizing that they were giving up. "You musn't give up. Dumbledore may not have been able to totally stop Voldemort, but he didn't give up. He devoted all of his effort into working against him, without questioning whether or not it would be for nothing. He did what was right. And you two can't give up hope. This is just the beginning, whether it be for best or the worst. There is still time." Harry took a breath, and remembered Dumbledore speaking on the last day of last term. They would all have to choose, Dumbledore said, between what was right, and what was easy. That choice was for all of them to make. Harry decided he'd choose what was right.

    "You're right, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, almost defiantly.

    "Yes, you are right," Hermione said. Arthur smiled at the both of them.

    "I knew you'd agree. Now let's get you two out of here. I've been sent to collect you two. You're to go home first, and then you two will be staying at my house." Harry smiled, but inside, he felt troubled. He knew there was always hope. But for what? For Voldemort to go away for a couple of years, and then come back? What would it take for the wizarding world to be normal again? Or was there no normal? Harry felt Hermione next to him, and he let his mind wander as they walked in silence to the Leaky Cauldron.