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Chapter 9 : Chapter Nine: Not Alone
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Harry winced as he hurried up the stairs, the movement sent jolts of pain up his back and legs, but he ignored it and slowed to walk when he reached the landing. Grasping the doorknob in his hand, Harry twisted the bathroom door open and shut it loudly behind him. He walked over to the sink and grasp the sides of it, and supported himself as he looked into the mirror. His glasses were still gone, but Remus mentioned finding him a better pair with the same frame, but it didn't matter as he squinted to look at his face. Any cuts that Voldemort had given him on his face were red lines on his face, his bruises were still a sickeningly blue-black color, and his scar looked red and irritated as ever. There were bags under his dull green eyes, and his hair was messy with caked in blood and dirt. Feeling disgusted with himself as he eyes continued to roam over his injuries all over his body, Harry turned the sink on and cupped some water in his hands, pouring it into his face in attempt to clean any blood and dirt off of it.
Harry suddenly realized that tears were running down his face, mingling with the water, and a shudder ran through him. He hadn't cried during his ordeal with Voldemort or when he had been rescued, but with everything that he just learned he felt as though it was too much, and allowed the tears to continue. Harry lowered his head into the sink and let the water run in his hair, and watched the water change to a dull pink as his blood mixed with it, running down the drain as he shivered from the his wet skin met the air. He was not mad that Dumbledore had kept this from him, Harry knew he could handle this better now than he would of at eleven, twelve, and even thirteen, it would of been even worse if he had been told in his fourth year, with everything that had happened. Now, it seemed in a strange way, had been the perfect time to tell him. With everything Voldemort had put him through this week, Harry deserved to know why it happened to him, and everything in his life for that matter.
By the way Remus, Sirius, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked during the story, they weren't comfortable with him knowing now. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George also, Harry saw out of the corner of his eye them all watching him the whole entire time. The Auror's, and along with his teachers, didn't know what to expect, and were shocked with everything they learned. His thoughts paused when he thought he heard something close by, and Harry stopped what he had been doing and turned the water off, and grabbed a towel as he listened closely. He had been right, he could hear someone climbing the stairs at the moment, and could faintly hear Dumbledore speak to someone or a group of people downstairs. Running the towel through his hair, Harry waited for the knock on the door that was surely about to come.
"Harry?" Sirius asked through the door, not bothering to knock, "Will you open the door for me?"
Harry sighed as he straightened himself out, pondering if he should listen to Sirius or not. Deciding his couldn't put off the inevitable, Harry reached his hand out and unlocked the door, and slowly opened it. Sirius looked up at him in surprise, he hadn't excepted Harry to be easy, and studied his godson closely. Nothing had changed much in the last few minutes, but his hair looked clean now, free of dirt and blood, and he had tears running slowly down his pale face.
"I'm so sorry, Harry." Sirius said quietly, and walked into the room.
Harry felt Sirius pull him into a embrace, and stayed still for a moment, closing his eyes and surpassing a sob. After collecting himself, Harry pulled his arms free from his side and wrapped them under Sirius' waist, laying his head against his godfathers shoulder and let the tears run free on his shirt. Sirius moved to sit down on the floor, and pulled Harry gently with him, letting Harry relax against him. Sirius rubbed his back gently, making sure he didn't hit any of the cuts as he did.
"H-how am I support t-to do this!" Harry gasped out, his throat hurt from suppressed sobs.
Sirius rested his chin on the top of Harry's head, and frowned deeper as he thought over Harry's words. He shouldn't have to worry about this now.
"One thing is for sure, not alone." Sirius told him, his voice sounded strained.
Harry focused on his breathing and kept his sobs down, and didn't hear the Weasley's and Hermione walk up the stairs to check on both him and Sirius as he did so. Harry shook his head as soon as the words come out of Sirius' mouth, and his frustration with the situation turned into anger in a snap.
"No," Harry said harshly through clenched teeth, "It's got to be me, and only me. You heard the Prophesy. I've got to do it alone." He kept his voice steady.
"The Prophesy didn't say you weren't allowed help," Sirius said sharply, "Only that you had to be the one to deliver the final blow."
"I don't even know how I could! I could never kill anyone- how would I even be able to with love?" Harry questioned.
"Harry, you misinterpreted it. It's that after everything that you have gone through, after losing so much at a young age, it's shocking how much you can love and care for people. Others would keep to themselves, and shut people out. You don't as much as we had expected, you care for people so much that you would risk your life for them, which you have already shown. That's exactly what the Prophesy meant, you would risk your own life to defend the one's that you love. That's how you would defeat him, defending those you love."
Harry closed his eyes and hugged his knees to his chest, ignoring the pain as usual, and rested his chin in his knee. What Sirius said made since, he could see himself killing someone to defend someone that he loved. But he knew for a fact Voldemort was much too strong, too powerful, for someone like Harry to be defeated by. The thought of a fifteen year old student killing the Dark Lord was laughable.
"I know what you mean, Sirius. But just because I would defend you or anyone else in this house doesn't mean that I would win, I would probably just die trying." Harry told him, his voice hoarse.
"You forgot one small detail- Voldemort marked you as his equal. He gave you some of his powers the night he tried to kill you - your Parsaltongue is enough evidence - and you can use it against him. From the way I heard Dumbledore speak about your magic, how much I've seen for myself, is extraordinary. An eight year old shouldn't be able to Apparate on top of a school roof without a wand, never has a thirteen year old been able to produce a Patronus, You are very powerful, Harry. It just takes the sense of danger, or fear for others lives, to use it." Sirius said quietly.
Harry kept silent, his mind went over what exactly Sirius had just said. Harry already knew that he had some of Voldemort's powers, Dumbledore told him at the end of his second year, when he explained to Harry why he could speak Parsaltongue. The next part of what Sirius said, even Harry knew was right. Hermione, the brightest witch of there age, couldn't even produce a Patronus, but she was still practicing. And his accidental magic from when he was younger, only Dumbledore had known about that, Harry figured he must of explained it to Remus and Sirius when they discussed his magic over the summer.
Harry thought over the next bit Sirius said, about what it took to bring out his powerful magic. With the Dementor's, he was able to produce a Patronus not because he already knew he could do it, but because Sirius, Hermione and himself were in danger of something worse than death, and he was trying to protect them from that. In the graveyard, he could keep the beam of his spell at Voldemort for as long as did because his life was in danger, and he knew what Voldemort would do to the Wizarding World the second he dropped dead. But then something else popped into his head that made him question his power.
"What about when I was taken? I knew that my life was in danger, and everyone's if I slipped any information, why couldn't my magic protect me then if it has before without a wand?" Harry asked, frustration building inside of him.
"Well, think of it this way, why didn't you tell Voldemort the answers he wanted?" Sirius questioned.
"Because I knew he wanted answers desperately, plus I didn't even know most of the answers to them." Harry replied cautiously.
"And?" Sirius pressed on.
"And that he wouldn't kill me until he had those answers." Harry finished.
"Exactly, you weren't in danger of being killed, and your magic knew that, so it didn't come out to protect you." Sirius told him.
"Yes," Harry agreed, "But my magic has protected me before from getting hurt, kept me from harms way." Harry told him, remembering his childhood with Dudley.
"You have to look at it this way, before your magic was protecting you from physical assaults, Muggle fighting. But Voldemort used his wand against you, and he is a very powerful wizard. Your body was weak and tired, and your magic was no match to fight wandlessly like that, it was saving up energy for when Voldemort finally tried to kill you."
It all clicked into place inside Harry's head, it all finally made sense. Harry nodded his head to Sirius, who pulled Harry against his chest gently, allowing Harry to rest his head. Harry felt overwhelmed by everything that he had just been told, by what he just learned about himself and his fate, to the point of exhaustion. He wanted nothing more than to be under the covers in his bed, resting as he slept with the help of a Dreamless Sleep potion. Suddenly Sirius gave a small jolt, and Harry looked up to see what was wrong. Sirius looked surprised, as if he suddenly remembered something, and started to dig into the pocket of his robes.
"What wrong?" Harry asked tiredly.
Sirius didn't answer at first, his hand frantically searching his pocket for something, than with a look a triumph, grabbing two things out of his pocket and set them on the floor by his side. Harry stretched his neck to see, and saw that a vial of some sort of potion laying there next to a small container of what looked like cream.
"Madam Pomfrey sent this over after you came up here. This," He said, pointing to the vial, "Is for your lung, to help clear it or something. The cream is for your bruises, it'll make them go away faster."
Sirius handed Harry the vial, and opened the small container of cream as Harry drained the vial with a look of disgust. Sirius put his hand on Harry's chin and turned his head to the side, and put some cream on his free hand. Rubbing gently, Sirius applied the cream to the bruises on his face, and the ones he could see on Harry's arms, and a few on his chest. After he was done, Sirius put the cap back on the container, and Harry had the fight to keep himself from rubbing at the cream on his skin as his skin prickled under it. Silence grew between them, but it was comfortable, not at all awkward. Harry put a hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn, and heard the floor outside in the hallway groan from weight pressed on it, and he rolled his eyes with a slight smile.
"I know your all out there." Harry said loudly, glancing over at Sirius, who stared out the doorway.
Outside the door, a squeak could be heard, along with a few gasps of shock and a few groans of disappointment.
"I told you not to move, you git!" One of the twins said furiously out in the hall.
Harry smiled as Sirius laughed, and they waited sitting on the floor of the bathroom as the Weasleys walked into sight slowly. Harry looked up and wiped the drying tears from his cheeks, blushing slightly at the reminder of his lose of control over his emotions.
"Why did it take you so long to come up here?" Sirius asked them, remembering he heard them in the hall during the middle of his and Harry's conversation.
"Dumbledore made us make a Unbreakable Vow with him, to keep the information safe." Hermione replied, her voice slow and careful.
"He did what?" Harry said, shock written on his face.
"Now Harry, you know that the information was very valuable, we have to keep it safe at all cost-" Sirius started.
"I don't care," Harry cut in, "This information was mostly about me, my fate and how to end it. He had no right to do that-!" Harry spoke, his voice fast and sharp.
"It was information to end the war, Harry. He had every right to keep it safe, no matter what. Now is not the time to discuss it, your about to pass out from exhaustion at any second. Time for bed." Sirius cut in, his voice as sharp as Harry's.
"I've been out long enough." Harry snapped, huffing angrily.
Sirius closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his patience.
"Molly, can you please bring up at vial of Dreamless Sleep?" Sirius asked, standing up and holding a hand out to Harry.
Molly nodded, and hurried down the stairs to get what Sirius asked for. Harry looked at the hand Sirius extended for him hesitantly, then finally grasped it as much a he could and pulled himself off the floor, and swayed slightly from the sudden movement.
"Can you guys take Harry to his room? I have to speak with Remus and Dumbledore for a moment." Sirius asked the remainder.
Ron and George hurried over to Harry's side and placed a arm on him, allowing Sirius to leave. Harry didn't have any fight left in him, so leaned against them gratefully as they started walking to the room Harry and Sirius slept in. Arthur left with Sirius, leaving all the Weasley children plus Hermione to tend to Harry. Reaching Harry's door, Ginny walked in front of them to open the door, and moved to the side as Ron and George hauled Harry in, and rubbed her hand gently on Harry's shoulder as he passed her. Harry felt his stomach give a funny jolt at the gesture, and suppressed a smile. Hermione went over to his bed and pulled the covers back, and straightened out his pillows quickly.
"Thanks." Harry muttered, sitting down the bed.
Hermione smiled at him in return, and ruffled his hair, earning a mock scowl as Harry tried in vain to flatten his hair. Ginny moved the covers so Harry could slide under them, and Fred pushed him lightly on the shoulder so he would lay down. After a moment a silence, the door groaned as it was pushed opened, and Mrs. Weasley walked in with a small vial steaming in her hands. Harry fought a scowl as she came over and handled him the vial, wanting nothing more than to never see a potion again, but took it from her hand and drained it empty. He felt the effects faster than ever, maybe because he was tired already, and could vaguely feel Mrs. Weasley pat his hair affectionately as his eyes started to close, his lips slightly parted as he fell into a deep sleep.
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