Secrets Revealed

27: Secrets Revealed



“Harry. Harry, it’s time to wake up now. Come on, Harry, wake up.” He heard the whispering from far away and felt a gentle breeze across his ear. Crinkling his brow, he burrowed deeper into his blankets and tried to swat at whatever was near his face.

“Harry.” A little louder this time, and he slowly opened his eyes in time to see Ginny leaning over him and blowing gently in his ear. He felt his body shudder as the air made contact.

“Good morning.”

“That’s a nice way to wake up,” he croaked groggily, and then the reality of the situation washed over him, and he sat up quickly. “Are you all right?”

Ginny smiled sadly. “I’ve been better.” She still wore the bandages on her arm, but looked healthy otherwise.

He nodded in agreement. “I’m sorry, Gin.”

She climbed up onto his bed and rested her head on his shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry about, Harry; it wasn’t your fault. I went down and saw Mum a little while ago. She said George was going to be okay.”

Harry turned to face her and rested his forehead against hers. “Yeah, your dad told me last night.”

Ginny looked up at him sadly. “It was a rough night for all of us. Dad told her about Remus and that you were upset. I’m sorry, Harry.”

He nodded and pulled Ginny into an embrace, holding her tightly, as if his life depended on it. “I can’t lose him, Gin, not now.” The emotion in Harry’s voice was tangible and raw and excruciatingly painful. He held onto her for a while, just sitting on the bed, his mind far away, when he suddenly became aware she was sniffling.

Her body was trembling slightly, and he realized she was crying as she started speaking softly. “I feel so selfish being upset about the Burrow when there are people hurt, but I can’t help it. I can’t believe it’s gone.”

At first, Harry wasn’t certain what to do; he wasn’t very good at this. He had no idea how to comfort crying girls, and the idea of it had always completely panicked him before. But Ginny was different. As he held her close and saw the tears gently rolling down her cheeks, he knew instantly that he’d do anything for her not to hurt this way. He didn’t want her ever to have to cry, and he wrapped his arms around her in fierce protectiveness.

“Shhh, it’s okay to be upset about the Burrow, Ginny. I am, too. The Burrow was more than a house; it’s been your home your whole life. When I think about the Weasleys, I automatically think about the Burrow; it’s so much a part of all of you. We’ll get it fixed up, Ginny; we can do that. Okay? Please don’t cry.”

She wiped her eyes on the collar of his pajamas and raised her teary gaze up to his. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“Did you just use me as a handkerchief?”

Ginny stared at him blankly for a moment, then giggled when she realized what she’d done. “I suppose so. Just be glad I didn’t decide to blow my nose, too.”

“That’s just gross, Ginny.” It felt good to joke; he never would have suspected he’d be able to do that this morning.

“Come on, everyone else is probably already in the kitchen. Mum sent me up here to wake you. Let’s go get some breakfast.”

The idea of facing everyone else didn’t appeal to Harry. “You go ahead; I’m really not hungry. I think I’ll just take a shower.”

“No. You’re not doing this again, Harry. You didn’t eat all day yesterday, you’re coming down with me, and we’ll all face whatever comes together.” Ginny’s voice was firm, and there was no doubt in Harry’s mind she wouldn’t back down. When Ginny got something in her head, that was just the way it was going to be. She leaned over and pertly kissed him on the nose before jumping off the bed.

“Okay, let’s go then,” he said, sighing. He took her hand, and they walked down the stairs together.

Ginny pushed open the kitchen door and firmly shoved Harry in front of her. If he hadn’t been certain that he’d never hear the end of her teasing him about his failed Gryffindor courage, he might have bolted before she got him inside. The kitchen was crowded with most of the Weasleys, Hermione, Mrs. Granger, and Alastor Moody. Ron was still looking slightly dazed, and Harry wondered how long he’d been awake. He must have been sleeping pretty soundly, for he’d never heard Ron get up.

As the door opened, he heard the end of Hermione’s blunt question, “…so if they can’t get all of the poison out of his blood before the full moon, he’ll die?” Harry stopped so short Ginny walked into his back with an “Ummff.”

All heads turned their way, and Mrs. Weasley jumped up and hurried over to them, speaking loudly out of nervousness. “Harry! Ginny! Come in, dears, have a seat, and I’ll get you some plates.” She ushered them over to the table and placed heaping breakfast plates in front of them. There was an uncomfortable silence around the table, and Harry desperately wished he could think of something to say to break the awful tension. His mind had gone back to that numb state, and he just couldn’t find the words. His heart had clenched upon hearing Hermione’s words, and he knew the color had once again drained from his face.

Ginny squeezed his fingers beneath the table, and it was she who, yet again, came to his rescue. “So, have we heard from anyone yet this morning? What’s going on?” She completely bypassed what they had heard when they had entered and gave the conversation a chance to start over. He would be eternally grateful to her for that.

“Dad has already left for St. Mungo’s,” Mrs. Weasley answered. “He’ll be bringing Mr. Granger back here any minute. The Dursleys are also being released, and Kingsley can go home tomorrow. They’ll be keeping George and Remus for a while, but both are holding their own.”

Harry took a good look at Mrs. Weasley while she was speaking. He noticed how drawn she was, and that the creases around her eyes and mouth seemed to be deeper than he remembered them. She was tense with worry, and he was struck by how much weight she had lost since Voldemort’s return over a year ago. A new and bitter sense of guilt washed over him for this. After everything she had done for him, this was how he repaid her? There was nothing anyone could say to relieve this guilt. The attacks on both the Burrow and Privet Drive on the same day were just too much of a coincidence not to be connected to him.

He suspected the Weasleys would still be involved in the fight against Voldemort if the situation were different. They were good people and would always stand up for something in which they believed. Mr. Weasley was far too involved with Muggle Relations for him not to know what was happening. Still, he knew they wouldn’t have been thrust in the middle so hard and so fast if it hadn’t been for his friendship with Ron. He wondered, not for the first time, if they ever wished Ron had picked any other compartment to sit in on that first day. How could they not?

Harry put his hand beneath his glasses and began rubbing his eyes without even realizing he was doing it. Mrs. Weasley’s gentle voice in his ear brought him back to the table. “Your aunt is much better, and they’ve administered some Memory Charms. They’ll have absolutely no recollection of the day and believe they had a nice Christmas dinner at home.” She squeezed his shoulders and gently ran her hand along the side of his face as she spoke.

Harry nodded, but somehow this didn’t make him feel any better. He pushed the food around on his plate, but couldn’t quite bring himself to put anything in his mouth. When he found Mrs. Weasley’s eyes on him for about the hundredth time that morning, he looked into her troubled eyes and agonizingly whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He watched as her face adopted that fiercely protective look he’d seen on her so many times before. She was about to reply, and he cringed, thinking about what her response would be, when he was saved by the sound of the kitchen door opening. Mr. Weasley had returned with Mr. Granger, who appeared to be slightly unsteady on his feet.

Hermione launched herself at her father, who managed to stay standing, while he enveloped his daughter in a huge bear hug. “I’m all right, pumpkin,” Harry heard him mutter. Hermione burst into tears, and she buried her face in her father’s shoulder. Mrs. Granger hurried over and joined the family embrace.

Mrs. Weasley herded the rest of them out of the kitchen to give the Grangers some privacy. Mr. Weasley assured Harry that Remus was hanging in there, and although there had been no change, the fact that he’d survived the night was encouraging. The Dursleys were back at Privet Drive, none the wiser, and Bill had added some new wards to their house. A member of the Order would continue to guard the residence at all times, but he wasn’t certain what Dumbledore’s plans for him for the following summer would be. Harry felt the small box that was his world shrink a bit more.

The Grangers stayed at Grimmauld Place for a couple of days while Mr. Granger recovered before returning to their own home and practice. After a long and heartfelt discussion with her parents about everything that was going on in the Wizarding world, Hermione stayed at Headquarters with the others. She told them her parents had considered pulling her out of school, but she convinced them she’d still be a target, and Hogwarts was the safest place for her. Her parents had reluctantly agreed.

Harry’s scar bothered him constantly – so much that he couldn’t remember what it felt like not to have a headache. His hands had begun to shake, and he suspected it was somehow due to the number of Cruciatus Curses Voldemort was administering to show his displeasure over Harry’s failed capture. Harry tried to hide it from the others, but as the pain increased, so did the tremors. He was managing to block most of the visions, with only brief flashes penetrating his shield. But Voldemort’s fury was too intense for Harry to keep out entirely, and his scar burned as the Dark Lord vented his wrath.

Due to the pain and the nagging worry about Remus, he’d virtually stopped eating again, and Mrs. Weasley’s constant attempts to get him to put something in his mouth had him avoiding her at all costs. It was because of this, that Dumbledore decided that the four students would be returning to Hogwarts early. He hoped the extra protection Hogwarts offered would aid Harry in blocking some of Voldemort’s emotions.

He didn’t want to leave; he wanted to be close in case there was news about Remus. Dumbledore promised to keep him informed, but wouldn’t allow him to go to the hospital. Tonks had been to see him once, and she returned looking haggard and weary, but insisted Remus would be all right. He hated to see her this way. He always thought of Tonks as larger than life, full of mischief and fun, much the same way the twins were. This latest attack had taken the spark out of all of them. George was still in hospital; Fred was lost and too serious without him, and Tonks seemed to be walking in a daze, fearful of losing the life she had started to build for herself.

The night before they were to return to school, Harry and Ginny were lying on the couch in the drawing room watching the lights on the Christmas tree. Harry’s scar had been particularly painful all day, and he was feeling very sleepy because of it. Ginny was lying alongside him, nestled closely to his side while her fingers gently traced the line of his jaw. There was something remarkably intimate and personal about her touch, and he reveled in it. No one had really ever touched him much before.

“Harry,” she said softly.

“Hmmm?”

“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

He stiffened; he had known this was coming but had still hoped to avoid it. “There are some things I have to tell you; Ron and Hermione, too. When we’re back at Hogwarts, there’s some stuff you need to know about. Not tonight, though, okay? Just one more night.”

Ginny eyed him warily, but conceded. “All right, then. Tomorrow.”

Harry shuddered and pulled her close ; will I lose her tomorrow? Will I lose them all? He didn’t want to think about that. His thoughts rapidly focused back in on Ginny as she began kissing his face, and he turned his head as she moved to his lips. She continued kissing him gently, moving to kiss his chin, up the bridge of his nose, across his cheeks, until she reached his forehead and began to trail kisses gently along the length of his scar.

He immediately tried to pull away, but she held him in place and continued until he relaxed under her ministrations. She gradually moved to his ears, not lingering or commenting at all on the scar, and it suddenly dawned on Harry that she treated it simply as another part of him – no more, no less. He felt moisture well up in his eyes at this simple gesture, and he pulled her close, hiding his face in her hair. She’d become so important to him; she centered him and had become the rock to which he clung. What will I ever do if I lose her now, after all this?

“It’s going to be all right,” she whispered, as if sensing his inner turmoil. Maybe she had some Legilimency skills of her own. Either must die at the hand of the other…

Harry didn’t want to talk; he just wanted to kiss her for as long as possible. He sought out her lips, and she eagerly responded. He knew he was hiding… but losing himself in her was a good place to be. For this last night of the hols, he was just going to be a normal sixteen-year old boy snogging his girlfriend senseless. Voldemort be damned.

********

They returned to the Gryffindor common room the next day by Portkey. Mrs. Weasley had cried when she kissed them all goodbye, and made Harry promise he would eat. Gryffindor tower was empty – none of the other students had stayed over the holiday – so they had the place to themselves until term started. They’d spent the day settling in and even went down for tea with Hagrid. Harry hated to admit it, but his headache improved the moment he was back inside the walls of Hogwarts.

While they were finishing up dinner in the Great Hall, Ginny broached the subject that had been plaguing her all day. “So, Harry, didn’t you say there were some things you wanted to talk to us about when we got back to Hogwarts?”

Ron and Hermione looked up at this statement. Harry took a deep breath. This was it. “Yeah. I’ve got some things I need to tell you. Why don’t we go up to the Room of Requirement?”

Hermione looked nervous, but Ron merely shrugged, and the four made their way upstairs. When they entered, the room was set up small and cozy with four armchairs in front of a blazing fire. Mugs of hot chocolate waited for each of them. The others sat down, but Harry began to pace nervously. He removed his wand from its holster just to have something to do with his hands. It took several moments for him to decide how he was going to begin, and they waited quietly. His demeanor had let them all know this was serious.

“I know you all think I’ve been keeping things from you this year, and you’re right. I’m sorry, but I really didn’t have much choice.” He swallowed painfully and looked over at them. Hermione didn’t seem surprised, but she was tense, waiting for more; Ron was perplexed, his brow knitted in confusion; Ginny was harder to read; her expression was neutral, but her shoulders were hunched, and she was chewing on a fingernail.

“There have been some things happening in my life that I was supposed to keep quiet, but I think it’s time to let you in on them. I never wanted any of this to touch you the way it has, and I’m sorry for that.”

“Harry, none of this is your fault, mate,” Ron said loyally.

“Please, Ron, let me finish before you say anything, all right? You need to know the whole story before you can decide that. When I dropped my fifth class, it wasn’t for extra Occlumency lessons. I’ve been having extra Defense lessons with Moony and Tonks. They’ve each been coming here to teach me different skills in order to protect myself. The first thing I did was learn to Apparate.”

“What?” Hermione couldn’t seem to stop herself. “You know how to Apparate? That’s illegal – you’re not seventeen.”

Despite the situation, Harry grinned. “Dumbledore got a special waiver, due to my circumstances. I’ve found there are always exceptions to most rules, Hermione.” With that, Harry Disapparated from in front of them and appeared silently on the other side of the room, a huge grin forming on his face.

Ron and Ginny each dropped their chins in amazement, while Hermione opened and closed her mouth in stunned disbelief. Harry could see the wheels in her head turning as she struggled to grasp some kind of logic from the situation. “But…you can’t Apparate inside Hogwarts; it says so in Hogwarts, A History .”

“I know,” Harry said, smiling. “You can’t Apparate in or out, but you can within this room. This is where I practiced with Moony.” A dull shadow passed across Harry’s features as he mentioned his teacher, but he covered it quickly.

“Wicked,” Ron said, beaming. Harry wasn’t certain if he was talking about the fact Harry could Apparate, or that Hermione and Hogwarts, A History had been outsmarted.

“After that, Moony began teaching me how to fence, and Tonks showed me some of the Advanced Spells I’ve been teaching to the DA. She’s also been instructing me in martial arts.”

“So that’s where you learned to fight like that,” Ginny commented to no one in particular, her eyes looking like they were very far away. Harry supposed she was thinking back to the Burrow and the battle on Christmas Day.

“I’ve still been doing Occlumency in the evenings with Professor Dumbledore, and, when term begins, we’re going to start work on Legilimency, too.”

“You’re going to become a Legilimens? Have you shown an aptitude for it?” Hermione couldn’t help but interrupt.

“Well, yeah. Do you remember that night in the common room when I shouted at the two of you, answering questions you said you never asked?” Both of his friends nodded, and he continued, “Well, that was the first time I really noticed it, but I became aware of some other times it was happening, too. I’m supposed to be practicing, but Dumbledore said to go easy. He said it’s overwhelming at first. I tried that day at the Burrow to use it on some of the Death Eaters, but it didn’t work very well and just made me feel sick. It’s hard to block everything else out and just concentrate on one person’s thoughts when there is a group around.”

All three of his friends were staring at him in shock and wonder. Finally, Ron broke the silence with an uneasy expression on his face. “You mean you can read our minds?”

Harry shrugged. “Sometimes, if I try really hard.” He looked at Hermione and concentrated intently, shutting his eyes and trying to block all sense of the room around him. “Hermione is wondering how Hogwarts, A History could be wrong.”

“Well, I could have told you that without any mind-reading skills,” Ron blurted, and both Harry and Ginny laughed at Hermione’s scowl.

Harry looked over at Ron and did the same thing, although his stomach was beginning to roil. “Ron, you’re worried about what I’m going to see in your mind, and you’re also wondering if Dobby is in the kitchen and would consider getting us some snacks.”

Ron’s eyes opened wide, and he gulped. “Blimey, Harry.”

Harry repeated the process, looking over at Ginny, who was staring back at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Harry turned bright red and dropped his wand in nervousness. He immediately turned away from Ginny, who had an evil grin spread across her face.

“If you tell me whatever it is she’s thinking, I’m going to have to hit you,” Ron commented dryly.

Harry cleared his throat nervously and began pacing, keeping his eyes away from Ginny and Hermione, who was grinning as if she were also aware of Ginny’s thoughts. His palms were sweaty, and he could feel his hands shaking, although he wasn’t certain if that was from the Legilimency or leftover effects from Voldemort. “The thing is, I’m going to have to ask all of you to keep this secret; no one else can know about it.”

“Well, of course not, Harry; any of this might help save your life, especially the Apparating part. We’d never do anything to put you in danger,” Ginny said fiercely.

“I know. I’m the one who has put all of you in danger, and I’m about to add to that by telling you what I’m going to tell you. I should have told you last summer when you tried to get me to talk, or after the ambush in Diagon Alley, or the Hogsmeade trip, or any other countless number of times you’ve all asked me what was wrong. I just didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to think about it, or deal with it, or watch your faces as you accepted the truth. It took me a long time to accept it. But now, after the attack on the Burrow, you need to know the whole thing. You have to understand what sticking around me is going to mean. You have to know, and decide for yourselves.”

It was obvious Harry was working himself into a panic, and all three kept their eyes on him in apprehension. This was it; this was what they’d been waiting for, what they knew was there, but he’d refused to share. Now, being on the verge of hearing whatever it was, they were all very nervous.

“Just say it, Harry.” Hermione finally spoke.

“You remember the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, the one Voldemort wanted so badly that had something to do with him and me? I know what it said. Dumbledore told me when we got back here that night. He was the one who heard it originally.”

“What did it say?” Hermione asked. Somehow, she’d known this was coming.

Harry took a deep breath, shut his eyes and began: “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives .”

Harry let out his breath and felt like crumpling to the floor. Instead, he grabbed onto the arm of the chair for support and looked around to see their reactions. Hermione was sitting with her hand covering her mouth, her eyes open round and wide. Ron had slumped back against the chair, shaking his head in silent denial. Ginny looked furious. Harry had expected a lot of possible reactions, but, somehow, blind rage was not one of them. He’d been more afraid he would make her cry.

“Ginny,” he began tentatively.

“How long have you known about this?” Her voice sounded like a hiss.

Harry swallowed but didn’t answer. He already knew enough about her to understand that she didn’t really want a response; she was just building up her rant. “You knew this all last summer and kept it to yourself? No wonder you made yourself sick, Harry. When are you ever going to get it through that thick skull of yours that you aren’t in this alone? You’ve got to stop bottling everything up and let us help you.”

“You can’t help me with this,” Harry snapped. “It’s him, or it’s me, there is no in between. Now that I’ve told all of you what the prophecy says, it puts you all in greater danger. Voldemort wants this information; he only knows the first part of what it says.”

“We’ll have to start in the library. I want to check out the wording ‘to vanquish’ in particular.” Hermione was rambling and not really paying attention to the argument developing between Harry and Ginny before her. She was trying to get her breathing under control and not let Harry see the horror she was feeling.

“You’re not going to do it alone, mate,” Ron said. “We’ll all be right behind you every step of the way. Hermione, you can find something, can’t you?” Ron’s voice had a desperate quality to it, and his panic was palatable.

Harry was flabbergasted. Hadn’t they just heard what he had said? Didn’t they understand? This was their chance to run, get out while they still could, but they didn’t even seem to be considering that as an option. Harry’s throat was growing tight. Maybe I’m not going to lose them, after all.

“This is your chance to bail. No one, least of all me, would ever blame you for getting out now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry,” Hermione muttered dismissively, still flipping through a book she’d taken from the shelf. “We love you, and we’d never let you go through this alone. We’re going to help you any way we can.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” Ginny whispered, taking his hand.

“Odds are actually a bit better than they usually are. At least we know what we’re up against,” Ron added, clapping Harry on the back.

Harry smiled, letting out a breath he felt as if he’d been holding since Dumbledore had first revealed the prophecy to him, all those months ago. He held Ginny’s hand as they all made their way back to Gryffindor tower, his heart remarkably lighter.

As they each lay in their own beds drifting off to sleep, Harry sighed in relief. He was so happy that was over with, and it had gone better than he’d expected. For so long, he had dreaded the idea of sharing his fate with them, but he had to admit, now that he had done so, he felt much better. A huge weight had been lifted from him and for the first time in he didn’t know how long, he didn’t have any qualms about falling asleep.

Quite to the contrary, Ron lay in his bed wide awake. He usually didn’t have any trouble falling asleep, but tonight his mind was racing. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears as thoughts ran through his mind so quickly he couldn’t stop to focus on a single one. No wonder Harry had trouble sleeping.

All was quiet from his friend’s bed now, and Ron wondered if he’d already fallen asleep. So this was the big secret Harry had been harboring all this time. He had known it was something big, but, honestly, this was not what he’d expected. Ron had held firm to the belief that it would be Dumbledore who defeated Voldemort in the end…Light over Darkness, and all that.

This was beyond Ron; he didn’t know what to think. Harry was strong and a powerful wizard. He'd come through more in his short life than anyone else Ron knew, but how was he supposed to defeat ultimate evil? How would Ron do it if this had been laid on him? He probably would have run screaming into the Forbidden Forest to spend the rest of his days with Aragog.

How had Harry coped with this for so long? Ron had watched him during the battle at the Burrow. He could fight; there was no doubt about that. He thought on his feet and never panicked in a crisis. Despite that, Ron could see the toll all of this was taking on Harry, and it worried him. If Lupin died…he shuddered at what that would do to Harry.

Was Harry the only hope all of them had? How did you live with something like that? How did you just carry on the day-to-day act of living, knowing what lay ahead of you? Ron was developing a new and profound respect for the way Harry carried out his life. He just kept picking up the pieces and carrying on, no matter what had been thrown at him. No matter what had happened, no matter how this had all come about. Ron had every intention of being right beside Harry during that final battle. And he’d do everything within his power to see that Harry came out alive.

Hermione was lying in her own bed, her thoughts as jumbled and confused as Ron’s. She kept swiping viciously at the tears that insisted on falling; Harry would hate to know that she was crying. She’d known the prophecy was significant; she’d always suspected the gist of what it would contain, but had steadfastly refused to accept it. There could be no more hiding now. Harry needed her, and she had to find some way to help him. Not only to help him succeed, but some way to help him live with the knowledge of what he must face.

She had never put any stock in Divination. She’d walked out of Trelawney’s class that day, thinking she’d left it behind for good. If she’d only known then what she knew now. Only one could survive. It had to be Harry, but what kind of a mark would it leave on him? Harry already had so much emotional baggage. He’d somehow find a way to cope; he always did.

So, how did one defeat something that wasn’t even really human any more? There had to be something they were overlooking. What was this Power that Harry supposedly had? It couldn’t be the Legilimency, as Voldemort also was skilled with that.

Hermione’s brain whirred with thoughts, schemes, and plans. No matter what it took, she was going to help Harry find a way to do this thing, no matter what.

Ginny lay in her bed softly crying; there was no way she could stop the tears from flowing, and she wasn’t bothering to try. She knew better than all of them what this prophecy was demanding of Harry. She knew why it frightened him so. She had been powerless to stop the memory of Voldemort’s sixteen-year old self from completely taking over her mind. He was so much more powerful now. Still, Harry did defeat him then; he had found a way. She’d have to make certain she helped him find a way again.

She had sensed the fear in Harry as he shared his fate with all of them. She could also see that it was the fear he was going to lose all of them that pained him more than anything else. Even after all this time, no matter how much they tried to show him, he still didn’t believe they wouldn’t abandon him. She needed to find a way to prove to him that they would be by his side, come what may.

Oh, Harry! She’d dreamed about him for years and, now that he was finally hers, there was absolutely no way anyone or anything was going to take him away from her… including Tom Riddle. She’d find a way to show him that he wasn’t alone, make him understand it and believe it. He had to know that he’d never be alone again. With that thought, Ginny cried herself to sleep.

Você precisa estar logado para comentar. Faça Login.