Breakout



11: Breakout

It was a bright, clear, early autumn evening, and there was a distinct chill permeating the air. The summer had been a cool one, and autumn seemed to have arrived early in all its glory. Stepping out of the carriage, Harry took a deep breath into his lungs; he always liked the fall. This kind of weather brought to mind apples, roasted chicken, and Quidditch matches. He allowed himself to be swept along in the rush of students making their way up the stone stairs into the massive entrance hall of Hogwarts. Torches lit the hall as Harry glanced longingly at the marble staircase, wishing he could just bypass the feast and head straight up to the Gryffindor common room. He wanted nothing more than to settle down in front of the fire in his favorite arm chair and take it all in without really having to be a part of it. Harry wasn’t sure why he was feeling so overwhelmed, but his stomach was lurching unpleasantly, and his head was beginning to throb.

His friends had noticed how withdrawn Harry had become on the carriage ride up from the train, and they all sympathized with him. Determined not to let him retreat into himself, however, Hermione and Ginny each latched on to one of his arms, and Ron led the way as the girls frog-marched him through the double doors into the Great Hall. It was splendidly decorated for the start of term feast, the long house tables glittering with their finery. The enchanted ceiling showed millions of stars that all seemed to be twinkling in welcome. Ron took a seat at the Gryffindor table, and Hermione moved to sit next to him. Harry and Ginny took seats on the other side of the table, opposite them. Neville walked Luna over to the Ravenclaw table before rejoining them. Harry could see Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, floating at the head of the table . No doubt waiting to startle some of the new first-years by pulling off his head.

“Hiya, Harry!” Harry turned to find Colin Creevey and his younger brother Dennis moving to take the seats on the other side of Ginny. “How was your summer? Ours was great. Dad took us on a trip to the coast and we got to try water skiing. Dennis almost drowned.”

Harry tuned Colin out as he rambled on about their summer adventures by the sea. Harry had only seen the ocean briefly on his eleventh birthday, and he’d never got to spend any time there. The Dursleys had never taken him on their summer holidays. He thought that was something he would like to do one day. Maybe he could make a deal with himself; if he survived his final confrontation with Voldemort, as a reward, he’d take a holiday by the sea . Sure! What happened to setting attainable goals, Potter? Harry shook his head, forcing those thoughts away. He had time yet…there had to be a way this could be done, a way that he could live and still be able to live with himself.

Dragging his attention back to the feast, Harry looked up at the staff table. Hagrid was there, waving merrily at Harry, towering over everyone else even from a seated position. Harry’s return smile was genuine; he couldn’t help but be pleased to see Hagrid. Snape was in his usual spot at the other end of the table, scowling at everyone. His eyes traveled the length of the tables, waiting to catch the slightest hint of misbehavior. On Snape's left, sat a witch Harry didn’t recognize. She had mousy brown hair that she wore pulled back in a plait. She was neither beautiful nor unattractive, more average and plain. She had the kind of face you would swear you knew, but only because it was a face you’d seen on many others before. Harry guessed this was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Hermione’s thoughts mirrored his own. “That must be the new DADA teacher. I hope she’s good. Snape is ignoring her, but nothing new there.” It was common knowledge that the hook-nosed Potions Master wanted to teach the Defense class, but was denied each year. He usually displayed a great deal of animosity towards whomever did hold the post.

“I hope they just get on with the Sorting; I’m starving,” Ron complained.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Exactly when aren’t you starving?”

“I’m a growing boy; I need nourishment.” It was true. Despite Ron’s insatiable appetite, he never seemed to grow out, only up. He was easily one of, if not the, tallest students in their year.

The doors to the Great Hall swung open and silence fell as Professor McGonagall led a group of quiet and utterly terrified-looking first years up to the front of the hall. Harry remembered the feeling and commiserated with the young students. He had been so worried that he wouldn’t get picked to belong in any house and would get kicked right back out the door. As Professor McGonagall moved the stool on which the Sorting Hat rested into place, Harry’s thoughts once again drifted back to the previous year.

It was at the start of term feast that they had been introduced to Dolores Umbridge. Harry had seen her once before at his mistrial in the Ministry of Magic. She’d actually interrupted Professor Dumbledore’s welcome and gone off into a speech of her own, shocking the rest of the staff. Hermione had caught the subtle references that hinted the Ministry was digging its claws in at Hogwarts. Harry hadn’t paid much attention then, but, looking back, all the warning signs had been there.

After running into Umbridge at Flourish and Blotts, Harry had again put her out of his mind. Now, however, he wondered what she was doing, and if she still had connections with the Ministry. She and Fudge had seemed thick as thieves, and he was still precariously holding on to his position.

With a jolt, Harry realized he’d missed the Sorting Hat’s yearly song altogether, and that the Sorting had already begun.

“Baker, William,” McGonagall called out, and a small, wiry blonde boy shuffled up to the stool. He climbed on with great trepidation, and the hat shouted out, “HUFFLEPUFF!”

The Hufflepuff table exploded into cheers as William Baker hurried over and took his seat. Harry saw Hannah Abbott reach out and shake his hand.

“Bennett, Tracy.”

“GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat.

Harry turned quickly and joined the applause of his own table as a young girl with very short hair joined their table. She didn’t seem to be as frightened as Will Baker did, but wary nonetheless.

“Keep an eye out for potential Quidditch talent,” Ron muttered to Harry.

“How can you possibly tell if they are any good at Quidditch from merely sitting under a hat?” Hermione demanded.

“I can tell,” Ron answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll bet that Tracy girl will show up at tryouts, you wait and see.”

“We need a new Chaser, but we can also use some reserves. We’ll lose Katie next year, then you and me the year after that,” Harry responded.

“Two new Chasers,” Ron clarified.

Ginny turned and scowled at her brother. “What –”

“You have to try out, same as anyone.”

“But I was already on the team.”

“You can have the reserve Seeker spot if you want it, but if you want to be a first-team Chaser, you’ll have to try out.”

Ginny glared at Ron, but Harry saw the determined glint in her eye and felt Ron would have to eat his words. Harry ducked his head and turned back to the Sorting.

“Duckett, Nigel.”

The Sorting Hat took a long time on this boy, and Harry sympathized with the boy’s discomfort.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Nigel scuttled over to the table on the opposite wall of the hall and was welcomed by Malfoy.

“Elliott, Iris.”

A girl with fringe so long it covered her eyes took her turn on the stool.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Iris ran right over and sat next to Will Baker.

The Sorting Hat continued on, with Ron’s complaints on the lack of food growing louder and more frequent by the minute. Finally, the line had dwindled. When McGonagall called the last name, “White, Andrew,” and the Sorting Hat shouted, “RAVENCLAW!” huge cheers burst out throughout the entire Great Hall.

“Finally,” Ron muttered. “Now we can eat.”

As Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet, the hall quieted down and looked at him expectantly. His robes of deep midnight blue shimmered in the candlelight, and Harry admitted he looked better than he had recently. Dumbledore smiled benignly as he looked around the room at the assembled students. “Without further preamble, Tuck In.”

Instantly, the tables were filled with a wide variety of items to tempt their palates. Their goblets were filled, and Harry had to cover a grin at Hermione’s frown over the work the house-elves had put into the feast. Ron dug in immediately and hunched over his heaping plate, ignoring the conversation around him. Ginny and Hermione, though more selective, began to fill their own plates, while Harry looked around in dismay. He was really feeling quite sick now, and the idea of even putting the food on his plate was making his stomach churn unpleasantly. Catching Ginny’s eyes watching him, Harry steeled himself and plopped some mashed potatoes and steak and kidney pie onto his plate. He swished his fork back and forth, but avoided putting anything in his mouth.

“Harry, why aren’t you eating?” Hermione asked.

“Mum told us all to make sure your plate was full, Harry. You’re not going to get away with skipping meals while we’re here,” Ginny added.

“I’m eating,” Harry said, scowling at them crossly. “I’m just not very hungry.”

“How can you not be hungry?” Ron asked after swallowing. He was now loading his second plate. “It’s been hours since lunch.”

Harry sighed. “Look, I know you lot are just trying to help, but I’m okay, all right?” Ron shrugged and went back to his plate. The girls eventually did, too, but Harry could tell they weren’t happy. He felt like a little kid trying to hide his uneaten vegetables in his napkin.

Neville, who was sitting on the other side of Hermione, asked Harry about the DA. “I got an O on my Defense OWL, and I owe that to you, Harry. Gran actually said she was proud of me.”

“Well, she should be proud of you, Neville.” Hermione turned towards him. “You worked very hard for that. I’ll bet all the members of the DA who sat for OWLs last year did well. They are probably the only ones who did, since Umbridge wasn’t actually teaching anything.”

As the eating eventually slowed, the plates were magically cleaned and pudding appeared. Harry was feeling even more nauseous, and the treacle tart in front of him wasn’t helping. He turned to Ginny beside him and tried to avoid looking at the food on the table. “So, Ginny,” he said softly, “I could tell by the look on your face you’re going to try out for Chaser. Any ideas on who else might make a good one?”

Ginny turned to face him, her forehead scrunched up, as she thought about it. “Not really. We had Katie, Alicia, and Angelina for so long; they were all pretty young when they made the team. I can’t recommend anyone else, because I haven’t seen anyone play other than those already on the team.”

Harry nodded; it was another reason they should make sure they take on some reserves this year.

“Harry, do you feel all right? You’re looking very peaked.”

Harry’s standard denial was on the tip of his tongue, but looking at the concern in her warm, doe-like eyes, he found he really didn’t want to lie to her. “My stomach is a bit upset. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Ginny’s eyes widened in surprise at getting an honest answer. “You always get a nervous stomach before Quidditch matches, too.”

Harry smiled weakly but said nothing.

As the pudding was being cleared away, Professor Dumbledore stood once again and raised his hands in welcome.

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Let me begin by telling the first years that the Forbidden Forest is just that – forbidden. I think there are also several older students who need to be reminded of this.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as his gaze flickered over the Gryffindor table. Both Harry and Ron shifted in their seats, while Ginny seemed to slouch down a bit. “Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has a list of banned items available in his office; this list now includes the entire stock of items sold at Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. He also asks that I remind you there is to be no dueling in the corridors.”

Ginny was rolling her eyes. “Blimey, I can’t wait ‘til Fred and George hear about this. It’ll be like they were awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class.”

“They’ll probably have a sale to celebrate,” Ron added.

Harry was about to join in the conversation, when his stomach lurched yet again, and his scar suddenly exploded with pain. It felt like his head was on fire; he just wanted to put it out. Reaching for a glass of water, he fell to his knees as the pain became more unbearable. He dropped the glass, never realizing he’d summoned it to his hand while his wand remained secure in his pocket. He grabbed his head with both hands and let out an agonized cry before the blackness overtook him.

******

When Harry awoke, he knew by the glaring lights and crisp white sheets covering him that he was in the Hospital Wing again. He groaned and moved slightly as Madam Pomfrey came rushing over. “Easy now, Mr. Potter, just relax,” she said, as she smoothed down the blanket over him. Ron, Hermione and Ginny stood behind her, all peering anxiously over her shoulder to get a better look at Harry.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, his voice sounding weak and shaky to his own ears. “I can’t believe I didn’t even make it through one night before ending up here. That has to be some kind of record.”

“I am glad to see you have retained your sense of humor, Harry,” said Professor Dumbledore, coming from behind the curtain. “Good man.” He turned to the others. “I would like a moment alone with Harry, if you don’t mind. He will be spending the night here, and you will see him in the morning.”

They all began to protest, but Dumbledore held up his hand. “The feast has now ended, and I am sure both of you have prefect duties to attend to. I assure you that Mr. Potter is in quite capable hands. If you all hurry, you should make it before curfew.”

They obviously didn’t want to go, but weren’t about to argue with Professor Dumbledore. Hermione, at least, took her prefect duties seriously and grabbed Ron by the arm. Ginny followed them out the door, giving one last look back before she left.

“You gave us all quite a scare downstairs, Harry. How are you?”

Harry shrugged and thought about it for a minute; he actually felt much better than he had at dinner. “A little achy, but okay.”

“What happened?”

“He’s happy. Beyond happy. Azkaban. I’m not sure what happened, or why that vision got in. I haven’t had one in a while. The Occlumency has helped.”

Dumbledore was pressing his finger horizontally along his mouth. “Hmm. Either you were simply overwhelmed by the day, or perhaps, and more likely, he was so focused on his task that he did not block you out. I take it Azkaban has been cleared?”

Harry nodded. “The Dementors have joined him.”

“I feared as much. We are going to continue with your Occlumency lessons. You have made progress, but there is still work to be done. I have also arranged for both Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin to come in to tutor you on some more advanced spells than are to be covered in class. I plan on having them teach you to Apparate.”

“I thought I had to be seventeen.”

“Due to your special circumstances, I have discretely obtained a waiver. I would prefer it if you kept this to yourself, Harry. It would serve you well if your enemies were unaware of this ability.”

Harry nodded. More secrets . “Should I keep the fact that I’m getting tutored a secret, too?”

“I think it is for the best. I am sorry; I know this is difficult for you. Have you shared the contents of the prophecy with your friends?”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. “No. I don’t want them in any more danger than they already are by being my friends.”

“It is a large burden to bear alone, Harry.”

“I don’t see an alternative to it. How much does the Order know?”

“Very little. They are aware that the prophecy involves you. I think you may find Remus Lupin to be privy to more, though he has not confirmed this with me. Perhaps you could confide in him? I do not think it’s a good idea to hold so much in, Harry.”

Harry remained silent.

“When you had your vision in the Great Hall, you reached for some water…”

“Yeah. My head felt like it was burning. I think they set fire to Azkaban. Why?”

“You summoned the glass without using your wand. Have you done things like that before?”

Harry furrowed his brow in concentration. “I think so. I remember vanishing some glass at the zoo once. Oh! When the Dementors attacked last summer, Dudley had knocked my wand out of my hand, and I summoned it back. Why, what does that mean?”

“I am not sure. Maybe nothing. It is common for young witches and wizards to perform wandless magic when under duress, which certainly qualifies here. You are at an older age than it should be happening, however. We will have Remus and Tonks run some experiments. I would like you to stay here for tonight, Harry, so Madam Pomfrey can keep an eye on you. You can take a sleep potion if you like.”

“I’d prefer to wait until tomorrow when I’m in the dormitory, if that’s all right.”

Dumbledore looked at Harry with narrowed eyes. “The nightmares are nothing to be ashamed of, Harry.”

“Yes, sir, but I still don’t like waking everyone up.”

“Very well, take it tomorrow night, then. Get some sleep here tonight, however.”

With that, he patted Harry on the shoulder and swept out of the room, leaving Harry to his own thoughts in the dark.

******

Harry wasn’t sure what time it was when the nightmare woke him, but he didn’t think he’d been asleep for very long. He tried to turn and settle himself but couldn’t seem to clear his head. He felt like he was missing something. He went over his day, trying to think if he’d forgotten something back at Grimmauld Place or on the train, but nothing came to his mind. Suddenly, realization dawned, and it was like a beacon on a foggy night – he missed Ginny. He’d grown accustomed to her soothing presence after his dreams wreaked havoc with his slumber. She was always there, offering comfort yet never demanding anything in return. Harry found it strange that they never spoke about his nightmares and realized he really did owe her a proper thank you. He was surprised to realize how much he was going to miss this brief comfort, more than he had ever known he would.

Suddenly, the door to the hospital wing sprang open, though no one entered. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise, Harry reached for his wand and glasses, eyes darting around the room. He relaxed an instant later as Ginny emerged from under his invisibility cloak, her long red hair standing on end from the static.

“Put your wand away, Harry, unless you plan on using it.” She smiled, and he blushed a moment later when he caught the double entendre .

“What are you doing here? If Filch or Pomfrey catches you, you’ll end up with detention before a single night has passed or a single WWW product has been used.”

Ginny smiled. “Ron gave me the cloak. He and Hermione are running around getting all the first years settled. Two of the boys already had a fist fight over the bed by the window, and one of the girls is crying and wants to go home. You should have seen the panic on Ron’s face when Hermione told him to comfort the girl.”

Harry laughed at the image, then sobered. He wouldn’t have wanted to have been given that job, either. “Poor Ron,” he said.

“Poor Ron? Try poor first-year. And poor Hermione, who is going to have to give the girl some comfort from Ron’s comfort.”

“True,” Harry agreed. “Ginny, I want to thank you.”

“Thank me for what?”

“The nightmares,” Harry began, then wasn’t sure what to say. “You’ve helped.”

Ginny smiled, ducking her head and taking the seat next to his bed. “I’m glad I could help, Harry. Nightmares are no fun. I know that better than most.”

Harry looked at her, furrowing his brow. “You have them, then?”

“I did for a long time after first year. They got better, although after the Third Task they came back for a while. One still gets in every once in a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered.

“I think you’re probably the only other person on this planet who can understand how bad they really are — that they aren’t normal !”

“I know! I hear his laugh all the time. I hate that laugh.”

“With me, it’s more his voice, soothing and manipulative. You know the monster he became; I know him as a boy about our age before the monster was unleashed. It was always there, though. Pure evil.”

Harry noticed Ginny shuddering as she said this, and he reached out and grasped her hand. She grasped his back just as tightly. “What do you remember about being possessed?” Harry asked, struggling to make his voice heard. He’d never asked her about this before, but he suddenly needed to know. Did she feel the same intense pain he associated with the experience? Harry had been blocking his own experience out for months now, but, in Ginny, he’d found someone with whom he shared this awful secret. If anyone would know how this felt, it would be her. He was terrified of the idea that Voldemort could get inside him, manipulate him, be a part of him . Ginny would know; she would understand.

Ginny was very pale. She began speaking, haltingly at first, but gaining strength as she went on. “I really don’t remember much. There were huge blank spots in my day. I’d snap awake and realize I had gone somewhere with no idea how I’d got there. He was so insidious about it, always knowing what to say to shake my confidence. He’d tell me people would hate me when they found out what I’d done. I was eleven! It’s not like I had a whole lot of self-confidence to begin with; he completely shattered what little there was. He’d talk about you a lot, and how silly I was. He tried to get me to hate you, and if I defended you, it infuriated him even further. He became obsessive about it. He was furious, because my loyalty to you wouldn’t be swayed. By then, I was so far in I didn’t know how to get out. He could be so cruel, yet so manipulative at the same time.”

“When he actually possessed you, did you feel pain?”

“No, no pain. Just...nothingness.”

“Were you aware of anything that happened in the Chamber?”

“No, not until I woke up and saw you there and realized he hadn’t succeeded. I’d never been so happy and so terrified at the same time. You looked awful — so battered and bloody — I kept thinking it was all my fault. I thought for sure that you would blame me. You never did, though, you even tried to cover for me with my parents. I don’t think I’ve ever said thank you.”

Harry squeezed her hand, but still waved it off as if it were nothing. “There was never any physical pain at all?” Her experience was different from mine, why ?

“Why do you keep asking that? What’s going on with you, Harry?”

Harry looked at her steadily for a long time; if there was anyone who could understand this, it was Ginny, but he was still afraid to share it. He’d spent his entire life hiding things; it wasn’t all that easy to let it go. Taking a deep breath, he decided to try.

“At the Ministry…back in June…I— He— “ Harry couldn’t seem to find the words. Ginny was staring at him intently, but remained silent and allowed him to continue. “He possessed me, too,” he finally said.

Ginny’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? When? Why haven’t you told anyone?”

“Dumbledore knows; he was there. He tried to get Dumbledore to kill me. The thing is, I can remember it, though. I can remember everything… and it hurt . It hurt worse than anything else I’ve ever experienced. Worse than I can even describe. He used me to taunt Dumbledore, but I can remember wanting Dumbledore to do it, to kill me just to make the pain stop. I was completely aware of both of us. Why do you think it was different?”

Ginny was still in shock over his revelation. She hadn’t even begun to process the fact that Harry had wanted to die. “I don’t know. What did Dumbledore say?”

Harry sighed. “He said it was my heart that saved me, but I really don’t understand what he meant. By that time, I was more focused on the fact Sirius was dead, and I really didn’t care what he was saying. I’m going to have to talk about it with him sooner or later. I’m just pushing for later.”

Harry and Ginny were still clinging to each other’s hands, and they sat there just staring at one another. Finally, Ginny laid her head on Harry’s shoulder, and he rested his head on top of hers. They sat there for quite some time, each lost in their own memories, until Harry finally dozed, and Ginny headed back to the Gryffindor dormitories. Harry, sleeping peacefully, didn’t see the worried expression on Ginny’s face as she stared at him before closing the Hospital door.
______________________________________

A/N: Okay, the Sorting. I made several attempts at a song for the Hat and finally decided not to subject you all to it. Trust me, they were bad!

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