Blasts from the Past

9: Blasts from the Past

Harry awoke with a gasp, his eyes wide, and looked around the room frantically. From the look of the pale gray light seeping in through the window, he guessed it was just after dawn. His night had been plagued with nightmares about his godfather. As the nightmares receded, he realized he hadn’t had any visions for the past several nights. He wasn’t sure if this indicated he’d finally succeeded in mastering Occlumency, or that Voldemort was just lying low, planning his next attack. Harry had continued his Occlumency lessons every other night, and they were going infinitely better with Dumbledore than they had with Snape. Among the new techniques the Headmaster had shown him were some relaxation methods utilizing meditation that helped him to clear his mind. The lessons had also served as a foundation for the slow repair of the relationship between Harry and Dumbledore. It would never go back to the way it was, but was maturing to form a new bond between the two. Harry wondered if he would ever find relief from the painful dreams. Ginny had been in at one point during the night, but it seemed even the small bit of comfort she provided couldn’t keep them at bay for long.

Several weeks had passed since Harry’s birthday, and the teens were growing restless from their confinement. Mrs. Weasley tried to keep them busy with the cleaning and redecorating that needed to be done, but the kids were bored. There wasn’t even a yard for them to get outside. Since the arrival of their school lists, the four students had talked of little else but their trip into Diagon Alley. Harry hadn’t been there since before his third year and was thoroughly looking forward to it. The Order didn’t think it was a good idea for Harry to be out in public, but he’d insisted he was going to go, with or without their approval. There was no way he was going to let Voldemort hold all the cards. Harry wanted out of this house for a while; he wanted some of his life back. Sensing Harry’s growing frustration, Dumbledore had finally granted permission, under the condition that a guard would accompany them at all times.

“All right, Harry?” Ron queried from his bed, the covers still wrapped snugly around him.

“Yeah.”

“Nightmare?”

Harry sighed. “What else is new?”

“Want me to go get Ginny?”

Harry started and looked over at his friend, seeing a slow smirk spreading across Ron’s face. “Sod off, Weasley.”

“You know, Potter, you probably shouldn’t have done so well on your OWLs. You’re not very bright. How smart is it to have a girl in bed with you, when her brother is in the same room?”

Harry’s face went crimson. He opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish but emitted no sound. Ron was openly laughing now, his eyes twinkling in much the same way Dumbledore’s did at Harry’s discomfort.

Finally, Harry tossed his pillow at Ron and nearly bolted from the room calling, “Wanker!” as he headed for the shower. Ron’s howling could be heard down the hallway.

Ron found this endlessly amusing. Here was his best friend, the legendary Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. TriWizard Champion. Fearless defeater of Dark Lords, basilisks, and acromantulas – completely and utterly flustered by Ron Weasley’s baby sister. Teasing Harry about it was just too much fun; he had absolutely no clue how to take it. Ron enjoyed seeing Harry so rattled; it was good for him to have something normal to focus on.

The day was a brilliant one; bright, sunny and warm. The four teens were up, showered and dressed by nine and waiting in the kitchen for Tonks, who was to accompany them. She arrived sporting short, spiky hair in a shade of red much like the Weasleys’. Ginny found this rather funny and admitted she’d always wanted a sister. Hestia Jones, another Order member, accompanied her.

“We’ll be taking the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron,” Hestia told them, much more business-like than Tonks. “From there, you’re free to go about your shopping, but you must stay within our sight at all times.”

“Here,” Tonks said, handing each of them a small metal cylinder on a string. “Put these around your necks. They are emergency Portkeys that will bring you right back here if you tug on them. Keep them on and within easy reach so you can get them if you need them.”

Even Harry was too excited about the day to complain about the precautions; he was going out. Tonks went first, then one by one the friends entered the fireplace with Hestia taking up the rear.

The Leaky Cauldron was much as Harry remembered it, dark and shabby but doing a booming business. Tom, the barkeep, was still there and stood drying glasses behind the bar. Tonks steered them over to a table near the door where Bill Weasley sat casually reading the Daily Prophet . There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that he was there to watch the Floo while they did their shopping in Diagon Alley.

“Bill!” Ron exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Just some minor business,” the elder brother answered vaguely. “You lot here for your school supplies?” After nods from the teens, Bill offered, “If you want to hand me your school lists, I’ll pick up your books and supplies and give you more time to look around.”

Harry had to smile at the horrified expression on Hermione’s face. The idea of missing out on the bookstore had nearly paralyzed her, and she stood staring at Bill in stunned disbelief.

Ron took pity on his girlfriend. “That’s all right, Bill. I think Hermione only came for her visit to Flourish and Blotts. We couldn’t make her miss out.”

Bill grinned, knowing the answer before he had offered. “Good move, brother mine. You’ve learned more than I thought.”

Ron grinned sheepishly, and Hermione visibly settled.

“Okay,” said Tonks. “You’ve got the day to yourselves, but you need to be back here at 4:00 sharp. We’ll return for tea. Got it?”

“We’ll be with you the whole day, but we’ll try to remain inconspicuous,” Hestia said.

“Yeah,” continued Tonks, “so go be kids on a date!”

Both Harry and Ginny colored, though Harry admitted to himself that the idea of being on a date with Ginny was rather intriguing. But it isn’t a date. We’re just here for school supplies, nothing more. Sure , that nagging voice in the back of his head said, and Malfoy is going to be my new best friend . Get a grip, Potter.

As Bill stood to let them out, a new patron entered the pub. He was a short man with dark hair and a mustache. “Declan,” Bill exclaimed. “Long time, no see.”

The man started in alarm, then seemed to relax. “Bill, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. How long have you been back from Egypt?”

“Not long. Just visiting with family, you know the drill.”

“Don’t I?” Bill said, laughing. “Speaking of, these are my two youngest siblings-” Bill broke off without using their names, after a warning glance from Tonks.

The man didn’t seem to notice. He was looking around the pub as if expecting someone. Harry thought there was something dodgy about him, especially the way his eyes raked over them all as Bill introduced him: “Declan Morrissey, a fellow curse breaker.” His gaze seemed to linger particularly hard on Harry, and Harry unconsciously shifted his fringe to better conceal his scar. The teens said their good-byes and made their way out onto the street. Tonks moved to the brick wall and tapped it with her wand, waiting for the archway to appear.

Harry stepped through, a wave of nostalgia overtaking him. He remembered his awe and amazement the first time he’d entered here with Hagrid. He’d wished then that he’d had more eyes to take it all in. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. He’d been a child, innocent and naive. The Dursleys had barely let him out of his cupboard to see the Muggle world, let alone a world like this. The sights and sounds of the bustling street were the same; witches and wizards in brightly colored robes doing their shopping. The Apothecary was still there with its potions and ingredients that seemed so mystical to him. Eeylops Owl Emporium, where Hagrid had bought Hedwig for Harry’s eleventh birthday, was also still open. Harry fondly remembered the day before third year that he, Ron, and Hermione had gone in, and Hermione bought Crookshanks. So lost was he in his reminiscence, he didn’t notice Ginny tugging impatiently on his sleeve.

“Harry, are you listening? We need to go to Gringotts. Do you need to make a withdrawal, as well?”

“Yeah, I do. Then where to?”

“Flourish and Blotts,” said Hermione decisively, already leading them into the bank. “We’ll get our schoolbooks out of the way first, just to be sure.”

“I need some new potion supplies that I’m low on,” Ginny said, “so I need to visit the Apothecary.”

“And Harry and I need to check out Quality Quidditch Supplies,” said Ron, without saying what he needed. Harry didn’t really care which shops they visited, he wanted to see them all again; the order didn’t really matter to him.

After they all got their money from their respective vaults, and Hermione exchanged some Muggle money for Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts, they crossed over to the bookstore.

Hermione immediately got lost amidst the rows and rows of magical books. Flourish and Blotts was to Hermione what Quality Quidditch Supplies was to Ron and Harry. Ron and Ginny made their way to the secondhand section, while Harry walked to the desk and quietly handed over his book list. While it was being filled, he wandered through a section of Defense books. A book with dueling wands on the cover caught his attention. The book contained a number of advanced hexes and curses and looked really interesting, and he thought might be of some use for the DA. He tossed it on the counter, and the clerk added it in with his other purchases. They puttered around in the shop for over an hour until, finally, Ron practically dragged Hermione up to the counter to make her purchases.

As they were leaving, another patron was entering. The woman was squat with a wide toad-like face that occasionally appeared in Harry’s nightmares. He had walked squarely into his Defense teacher from the previous year, Dolores Umbridge. He instinctively grabbed his hand, a hand that still bore a faint scar from her detentions. She was thinner and looked like someone who had not yet recovered from a long illness. Her curly hair was limp and longer than the last time Harry had seen her.

Her eyes flicked over the four of them, and a brief flare of anger appeared as she looked at Hermione. It was Harry she addressed, though, with a voice that dripped with false, sugary sweetness. “Mr. Potter, how pleasant to see you again.”

Harry’s rage at the unfairness this witch had inflicted on him boiled beneath his skin, but Dumbledore’s words about needing to control his anger won out. Without saying a word, he coldly brushed past her and out the door. He took long, angry strides as he headed down the street, not even aware that his friends were hurrying to keep up.

To Harry, Dolores Umbridge represented everything that had gone wrong last year. Her detentions were painful physically; the reasons behind them hurt emotionally. Virtually no one had believed his story about Voldemort’s return, and Umbridge epitomized how the Ministry tried to pull a power play and sweep it all under the rug. She was a bully, plain and simple, and had shown Harry that everything he’d believed in, trusted, and counted on, was a lie. He felt like everyone he’d even remotely counted on had failed him. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

The others could see how angry Harry was, but also recognized he was trying to control it and patiently held their tongues. Finally, it was Ron who spoke, “Never thought I’d see her again, the old bat.”

“I can’t believe she’s walking around, free as you please. Certainly the Ministry must have pressed some charges, considering she was physically abusing her students,” Hermione raged.

“Since when has the Ministry ever done what it ought to do, Hermione? Fudge is busy trying to salvage his bruised reputation. He’s not about to call attention to another one of his endless mistakes.” They all found the bitterness in Harry’s voice disturbing. Trying to shake off the sour taste, they continued their shopping, and Ron nearly ran to Quality Quidditch Supplies as they neared it.

This was proving to be Harry’s day for unpleasant encounters, he decided, for inside was his school arch-rival and nemesis since first year, Draco Malfoy. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, despite his father’s recent incarceration.

“Well, well, well,” the blonde boy sneered with his familiar drawl. “Look what the cat dragged in: Potty, the Mudblood and two Weasels.”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Harry replied. He had no desire to waste any more time on the likes of him; Harry had bigger fish to fry. He was determined not to get dragged into petty squabbles with Malfoy this year. Moving to get around him without another glance, he was stopped in his tracks by the Slytherin’s next words. “Still in mourning over your dead dog, Potter? Should have kept him on a tighter leash.”

He felt rather than heard Hermione and Ginny’s sharp intakes of breath. Everything was silent, save the rushing in his ears; he felt like he’d been hit in the gut. Harry had his wand out before Malfoy had even seen him move. Malfoy’s eyes widened in alarm. It was Ron who held Harry back and dragged him out of the store as they heard Ginny’s scathing, “How’s your daddy like Azkaban?” If it weren’t for the fact that Harry really didn’t want to hurt Ron, he might have cursed him. He still clutched his wand tightly and had to forcibly restrain himself from rushing back in there . So much for my new resolution.

“Easy mate, take it easy. I’d like to kill him, too, but we can’t afford a scene in there, or Tonks will have us back at Headquarters so fast our heads will spin.” Ron was right, but Harry wasn’t used to Ron being the voice of reason. Remembering Dumbledore’s lessons, he tried to take deep, calming breaths, but his rage was hard to control after encounters with both Malfoy and Dolores Umbridge. He paced back and forth, glaring futilely at the empty doorway.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Ron said, keeping his voice low. “About Sirius, I mean. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Harry closed his eyes tightly. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” The girls came out, and Ron quickly shook his head, indicating to them to leave it alone.

Ginny caught the gesture and knew Harry was upset. She’d so wanted him to have a good day. She needed to do something to get his mind off these unfortunate run-ins, and not let him start dwelling on the loss of Sirius.

“I think we should get some lunch.” she said, smiling brightly. “It’s a beautiful day. How about we go to Florean Fortescue’s and eat outside.”

“But don’t they only serve ice cream?” queried ever-practical Hermione.

“So? You’ve never had ice cream for lunch?” Ginny asked with an amused look.

“Ice cream for lunch sounds brilliant,” Harry said, smiling, and it was settled. He caught Ron’s eye above Ginny’s head and nodded gratefully to his friend for holding his silence.

All four had sundaes with healthy doses of chocolate for lunch and felt much better for it. Even Harry managed to have his spirits lifted while sitting in the warm summer sun laughing with his friends. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been outside. They ran into several other students while they ate and pleasantries were exchanged all around. When they finished, they began walking around, dropping in various shops and looking around along the way. They decided to visit Fred and George’s shop as their next stop. Harry hadn’t been there yet and was anxious to check out what it looked like and find out how business was doing. Ron knew a shortcut, so they followed him through a small alleyway. Harry noticed a stone stairway off to the side and recognized it as leading to Knockturn Alley. He shivered as he remembered how he had ended up in the seedy area by mistake once in his second year. Thank Merlin Hagrid was there to pull him out.

After all the unpleasant run-ins they had that day already, Harry felt he should have known – should have suspected something. He hadn’t, though, and was caught completely off guard when it happened. They had just passed the stone stairway and were walking past a witch dressed in heavy black robes when Harry heard a voice that turned his blood to ice. “Is itty baby Potter having a day out wif his wittle fwiends?”

The voice was full of malice and loathing as she spouted with dark glee. Harry spun around and looked into the heavily hooded, insane eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange. She was standing there, plain as day, on the street as if she’d been waiting for them. Harry’s mind whirled; he was back at the Ministry of Magic, watching her jet of red light strike Sirius in the chest, chasing after her through the brain room, attempting the Cruciatus, her infuriating laughter. . .

“This must be my lucky day, Potter.” She switched from the baby voice to one as hard as steel. “My master will be so pleased.”

Hermione was glancing around for Tonks and Hestia and began to frantically wave her arms. Bellatrix realized what she was doing and raised her wand. Ron instinctively moved in front of Hermione.

Harry couldn’t let this happen again. He had to get her away from his friends, so they could use their Portkeys to escape. With a snarl, he rushed at the woman, grabbing her around the waist and sending both of them head over heels down the stairs. Harry saw stars as his head connected painfully with the stone, and he desperately fought the blackness threatening to overtake him. Don’t black out now, Potter. He heard rather than felt the crack of a bone in his wand arm. When they landed at the bottom of the stairs, both jumped up despite their injuries and faced each other in a dueling stance. Other Death Eaters appeared--Harry didn't know where they were all coming from. Both Tonks and Hestia had followed him down the stairs, battling fiercely even though they were heavily outnumbered. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were still standing in the same spot on the landing above; it appeared that one of the aurors had placed a barrier preventing them from following. They stood as if alternating between being frozen in shock and desperately trying to get down the stairs to assist, all the while watching what was happening with Harry and Bellatrix.

Bellatrix was a mess; she was panting heavily, her head bleeding profusely, and her shoulder was twisted at an odd angle. Harry reckoned he didn’t look much better.

“Go,” he yelled to the others irritably. What are they waiting for ?

“So the itty bitty baby wants to pwotect his fwiends? Isn’t dat sweet?” She’d gone back to the annoying baby talk. Vaguely, it crossed his mind that today he’d met up with both Dolores Umbridge and Bellatrix Lestrange. All he needed was to see Aunt Petunia, and he’d have all the women who’d made his life a living hell in one-stop shopping.

Bellatrix sent a Stunning Spell at Harry that he easily dodged. Forgoing the ban on underage magic, Harry fired one back at her, but she also blocked it in time. Between Harry’s broken arm and Bellatrix’ dislocated shoulder, they were both having trouble getting off their curses. They volleyed back and forth for several seconds before a yell sounded from the stairs. Hestia Jones had been hit with the Killing Curse. Harry’s brief moment of distraction was all Lestrange needed; she pointed her wand at Harry and snarled, “ Crucio !”

Harry’s head exploded in pain as his blood began to boil, and his bones felt like they were cooking from the heat. The agony was so all-consuming, so intense, that Harry wasn’t even aware of the howl he emitted as he dropped to the ground and writhed in pain. He just wanted it to stop; he could think of nothing else but making it stop. It went on for what felt like hours, but she finally lifted her wand, leaving Harry panting and gasping for breath. His head throbbed as if it were about to burst, but through his blurred vision he could still make out Ron. Knowing he only would have an instant, he gave Ron a clear view of the cylinder clutched in his hand. Brief understanding flashed on Ron’s face as he grabbed the girls closer to him, and all four teens disappeared despite the furious screech of Bellatrix Lestrange.

They reappeared in the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place, Harry still on the ground struggling to hold on to consciousness. The other three made their way over to him as Tonks appeared in the room looking significantly bruised and bloodied herself. “Remus! Moody! Molly!” she called. When no one answered she hissed at Ron, “Find someone and get Madam Pomfrey here, now.”

“Harry,” Ginny said as she gently cradled his head on her lap. “Can you hear me?” His entire body was shaking, and he couldn’t seem to stop the tremors.

“I’m okay,” Harry said, his voice slurring.

“Honestly, Harry,” Hermione said in a huff. “You are NOT okay. She held you under the Cruciatus for a long time. I can’t believe you’re still coherent.”

“Do you think you can sit up?” Ginny asked, trying to gently raise him. Unknowingly, she grabbed hold of his injured arm, and he yelped in pain. “Oh. I’m so sorry,” she cried, tears filling her eyes.

Harry’s head was swimming, and he blinked against the spots that keep appearing in front of his eyes. The whole room seemed to be swaying, and he tried to hold on to the rug to keep himself steady. He was afraid he was going to be sick.

Mrs. Weasley came running into the room with Ron right on her heels. “Oh, Thank Merlin you’re here. We got word of an attack in Diagon Alley, and everyone headed over there.” She knelt down next to Harry and gently smoothed away the hair on his forehead. “Madam Pomfrey is on her way, Harry. Let’s get you up to bed. Tonks, no. You sit down there; she needs to look you over, too. Ron, help me with Harry.”

As Ron and Mrs. Weasley lifted him to his feet, the dots that had been appearing before his eyes suddenly grew until they connected and he knew no more.

**********

Harry was confused; he didn’t know where he was. It was a house of some sort, small but inviting with a warm fire blazing. Harry felt warm and content, safe and…peaceful. As he looked around the room, a figure emerged from seemingly nowhere. Harry looked up into the smiling face of Sirius Black. His godfather looked wonderful. Healthy and younger, somehow. His hair was cut short and close, and the haggard lines around his mouth and eyes had all but disappeared.

“Sirius,” Harry whispered in disbelief, “am I dead?”

Sirius laughed, a deep, rich laugh full of warmth and humor. “No, kiddo, you’re very much alive. You just managed to get yourself wounded again. You’re pretty good at that.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, kiddo. I’m so sorry to have left you like that. Typical me, running off at the mouth without using my head. Some things never change.” He shrugged.

“No. It was my fault. Voldemort tricked me, and I fell for it. I’m so sorry, Sirius. I’m so sorry.” Harry felt his eyes well up and watched as Sirius’s did the same.

“I don’t want to hear you say that anymore, Harry,” Sirius said, taking Harry’s face in his hands. “ I would die a thousand deaths for you, but you were not the cause. My lovely cousin did this. Voldemort did this, not you. Hell, I did the same thing. We each thought the other was in danger. Are you going to blame me?”

“No! But–”

“Then I don’t want you to blame yourself anymore.”

“I don’t think I can do this, Sirius. I can’t defeat him alone; I don’t know how.”

“You’re not alone, Harry; you’ll never be alone. Let Remus, Hermione, and the Weasleys in. They love you, Harry, and they want to help. They’ll be right there with you, and you can do this. Ron, Hermione, and your Ginny are your strength; draw from that.”

“She’s not my Ginny.”

Sirius laughed full and deep, his eyes twinkling with the mischievous nature Harry knew so well. “She’s always been your Ginny, Harry. The only question is how long it will take you to realize it.”

The image of Sirius began to fade. “No. Don’t go, please. Don’t leave me,” Harry cried.

Sirius’s voice was soft but distant. “I’ll always be with you, Harry, just think of me.”

“Don’t go,” Harry yelled. But Sirius was gone.

*********

Harry awoke some time later to the sound of Ron opening the door to the room they shared and peeking in. “He’s awake,” he said, turning to whoever was in the hallway. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all entered the room and gathered around his bed. “How are you feeling, mate?” Ron asked.

“Like I got hit by the Hogwarts Express,” Harry said, his voice croaking. Ginny handed him a glass of water, and he sipped it gratefully. “How long have I been out?”

“Pretty much all day,” Ginny answered, brushing the hair from his forehead. “It’s really late and everyone else is in bed.”

“Madam Pomfrey was here,” said Hermione. “You’ve got a broken arm and some broken ribs. She mended the arm, but your ribs will be tender for a few days. She said the aches from the Cruciatus would take a few days to wear off, too.”

“Your head took the brunt of the fall down the stairs,” added Ron. “You’re going to have quite a shiner to show for it. Madam Pomfrey told us she didn’t heal it on purpose — she said maybe it would be a reminder to you to stay out of trouble.”

“What were you thinking, pushing her down the stairs like that, Harry? You could have been killed.” Hermione was trying to restrain her exasperation with her wounded friend with little success.

“Why didn’t you use the Portkey after we went down?” Harry whispered, growing more and more fatigued.

“We couldn’t just leave you there. Come on, Harry, you know we’re going to stick by you no matter what.” Ron was indignant.

Harry didn’t have the energy to fight with them. He was losing the battle to stay awake. “Is everyone else okay?”

Ginny nodded. “Except for Hestia Jones…you saw that.” She cast her eyes downward, remembering how the woman who had eaten dinner here with them had been struck down so casually.

“They had a big meeting here afterwards; the twins filled us in. According to Snape, the attack was planned for Gringotts, and it was just a bonus for them that they ran into you. Apparently, Voldemort has issued orders to bring you to him at all costs. I’m betting it was Malfoy who tipped them off,” Ron said, taking the empty water cup from Harry and slamming it back on the nightstand.

“No,” Ginny said. “Umbridge.”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said. “I was wondering about that fellow Bill knows. Declan something. He’s a curse breaker, like Bill. Voldemort must have someone like that working for him, considering all the trouble we’ve had recently with the wards.”

“You think he’s a Death Eater?”

Harry was having trouble following along, and his eyelids grew very heavy. Hermione noticed him trying to stay awake. “Mrs. Weasley wanted to get you a potion for dreamless sleep, but Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t allow it. She said there was too much in your system already. You should go to sleep, though; we could blindfold you with dental floss, Harry. We’ll all stay here with you tonight.” She kissed him gently on the head.

“Hey,” Ron said.

“Oh, get a grip,” responded Hermione, climbing into Ron’s bed and settling herself beneath the covers.

Ron looked confused as he watched her do this but shrugged his shoulders and moved towards the bed himself.

“You can stay on top of the covers and use the quilt,” Hermione stated.

“I knew that,” Ron said, spluttering.

Ginny had been watching the two of them settle down, unsure what was expected of her. She kept looking in confusion at Ron. Certainly he wasn’t suggesting she should stay with Harry ?

Ron looked over and smiled at the puzzled expression on his sister’s face. “It’s not like you haven’t come in before. Besides, Lover Boy over there is in no condition to try anything.”

Harry didn’t open his eyes but smirked at Ron and muttered, “I’ve been underestimated before.”

Ron grew suddenly somber at the comment. “That you have, mate. That you have.”

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