The end (except it is only the beginning)
Chapter 27: The end (except it is only the beginning)
Harry opens his eyes squinting against the bright light. He blinks once, twice. Everything is blurry. He reaches a hand to his face realizing his glasses are gone. He pulls himself up to a sit, his back resting against... pillows? Why is he in bed? This is definitely not the Slytherin dorms far too much light and everything smells like eucalyptus.
Turning his head to the side, wincing slightly at the way his body aches when he moves, he blearily looks at what seems to be a bedside table. He can just about make out the shape and colour of a silver pair of glasses (presumably his own) he reaches for them and carefully pushes them onto his face. He stares around the room finally able to actually see what he’s looking at; The hospital wing, about twelve other beds (empty) with pristine white sheets and pillows, each bed has its own bedside table and a curtain that can be pulled around for privacy, at the end of his bed there is another table and it seems to be stacked high with... gifts?
He’s been here once before, when professor Snape had asked him and Fred to deliver some potions for Madam Pomfrey. Fred... why does he suddenly feel worried.
He racks his brain for memories of how he got here. Why the hell is he in the hospital wing? His thoughts feel muddled around the edges, like all the important things he should know are just out of reach behind a hazy wall.
Fred. There was definitely something important to do with Fred, he’s sure of it.
His thoughts are cut off by Selena, who was undenounced to him sleeping under his pillow. She slithers out hurriedly, and presses her little snout into his cheek. “Star! Oh, my speaker! I thought you were dead. I thought our predators defeated you.”
Harry has no idea what she’s on about but he replies anyway. “I’m okay. Not defeated. See?" He gestures to himself.
“I will not leave you again. You are not trusted to stay alive without my venom to protect you.” She tells him firmly in a way that Harry would not dare argue with. “I thought I would have to lose another speaker. I do not want you to be gone.”
If snakes could cry, he thinks that's what Selena would be doing right now. She sounds so sad. So mournful. And Harry cannot understand why. Merlin, he wishes his memory would work properly. “It’s okay Selena. You won’t lose me, I promise. Come here.”
She slithers down to his neck and wraps herself around his throat while still resting her snout on his cheek. Still hissing sadly about missing him and something about Salazar and dying. He pats her scales comfortingly. But before he can speak to her anymore, they are interrupted.
“Mr potter!” Madam Pomfrey bustles out of her office only to come to a stop, staring at Harry for a brief second in complete shock (Her grey dove familiar looking equally startled, from where it’s perched on her shoulder regally) Before she regains her composure and makes her way over to Harry's bedside with quick steps, her shoes clicking on the floor. “You gave us quite a scare, young man.” She begins casting medical spells he doesn’t recognise over his body in rapid succession.
“What happened?” He asks uncertainly, looking up at the middle-aged woman who is fussing over him. “I... don’t remember.”
“I’m not sure myself, dear. Headmaster Dumbledore was very sparse on the details.” She purses her lips, frowning in disapproval at the name before continuing. “From what I could gather it was severe magical exhaustion and I had to purge a concerning amount of dark magic from your system.”
“Oh.” Is all he can manage to get out.
“I told the headmaster that he should transfer you to saint Mungos. They have specialist to deal with these types of things, but he insisted you stay under my care.” She tuts, and shakes her head before reaching into her apron and pulling out a potion. “I was unsure you would wake up. You have been in a coma for almost a week.” She uncaps the potion and pushes it towards him. “Pain reliver, drink up. I can see you wincing.”
He does so obediently, tipping the vile back, the potion tastes vaguely of rosemary. She nods approvingly. “I like the healer, Star. She took good care of you and she let me catch a delicious mouse that invaded this healing room. And Her bird is less foolish than Solace.” Selena says peering at Madam Pomfrey through her dark eyes.
At the sound of the serpent hissing, Madam Pomfrey looked down at Selena with a small smile. “You’ve got yourself a very loyal familiar, Mr Potter. She stayed right next you the whole time you were here, never once left the hospital wing.”
He pets Selena fondly, and smiles at the healer. “I know.” Selena has always been loyal to him ever since he broke her out from the zoo. He is beyond grateful that he has such a special serpent as his familiar.
She takes the empty potion bottle from him and then says. “You rest up dear. I’ll go and alert the headmaster that you’re awake.” With that she bustles off disappearing back into her office and leaving him alone once more.
He stares at the ceiling. Dumbledore. Fred. Fred. Quirrell. Wait Quirrell?
Suddenly it all comes back to him, the memories of what happened flooding back into his brain with alarming speed. The trials. Cerberus, trolls, evil plants, potions and riddles, fire, and Quirrell. Voldemort. The man turning to ash. Voldemort rising from said ash and... going through Harry? Being dead? Or almost? A stone. The mirror. His friends... Fred. Oh Merlin Fred!
He tries to get of bed. He needs to find his friends. Now! He needs to make sure Fred is okay. Oh Merlin. He barely manages to stand for a second before his head is spinning and his vision dips in and out making him fall back onto the bed.
A voice cuts into his panic, making him stiffen. “Ah! My boy, I am so pleased to see you awake.” The headmaster says, eyes twinkling through his half-moon spectacles and a kind smile on his face.
Dumbledore is the last person on earth Harry wants to see right now. The rage he feels towards this man who dares to smile at him and pretend he cares when he is the reason Harry and his friends were put in danger in the first place. He was the one who compulsed Fred.
It takes every ounce of his willpower and self-control to keep his face neutral. Dumbledore is a threat, an enemy. And after all, however much Harry may despise the man with his entire being, he knows how the saying goes, ‘Keep your enemies close’. Burning bridges now with this man will not be helpful in the long run. But one day in the future when its safe for him to do so Harry will make sure Dumbledore does not go without paying dearly for his actions.
But for now, Harry will be civil and pretend he does not hate the old man so much that it makes him feel physically ill. He takes a slow breath in and then exhales out, and asked the question he’s afraid to know the answer to. “Is Fred alive? My friends... are they okay?”
His lungs seize in his chest for a moment as he waits for Dumbledore to reply.
“Oh, yes. Mr Weasley is quite alright, the rest of your friends too.” Dumbledore says jovially. “He was released from the hospital wing yesterday. It was a very close call though I will admit.”
Harry lets out a breath of relief and leans back against the pillows, the fear that had been screaming in his chest melts away. They’re okay. Freds okay. His friends are okay. Merlin he could cry with relief but he refuses to show true weakness Infront of Dumbledore. So, he forces himself to speak. “Oh! That’s a relief sir. I was so worried, it was the last thing I thought about before...” He trails of into silence for a moment before speaking again, he makes sure to make is voice small and scared. “What happened, Professor? I-I remember Quirrell and... sir I think... I think Voldemort was in the back of his head. And I-I oh Merlin sir! I think I killed him!” He drops his face into his hands and forces a sob to escape his lips. “I didn’t mean too I swear, I just, I just touched him and he started turning to ash!”
“Hush Harry, calm down.” Dumbledore places a ‘soothing’ hand on his shoulder, Harry only just manages not to flinch away. “Lord Voldemort was indeed possessing poor Quirinus's body, he was using him to attempt to steal the philosopher's stone.”
Of course. The stone that offers immortality to those who drink its elixir. Almost impossible to create and the only successful stone in recorded history was made by Nicholas Flamel with the help of Albus bloody dumbledore. No wonder Voldemort was after it.
Hermione had been interested in the famous alchemist, not just for his work on the stone but is other alchemy works too. She had been discussing it with Harry literally a week ago. How Had they not connected the dots? Why did he not stop and consider for a moment?
“Oh.” Is all Harry can manage to get out without shouting or slamming his head into the nearest wall.
“I was... looking after it, for a close friend of mine. You may have read of him, Nicholas Flamel? But that’s beside the point.” The old man looks so absurdly pleased and his eyes are sparkling merrily. “Thanks to you my boy, Voldemort was not able to get away with the stone. While he is not defeated, he is at least delayed.”
Joy. Harry can’t wait for the next encounter. And why in Salazar's name would Flamel put his stone of immortality in the tender care of Albus Dumbledore? Why would he request to have it ‘safely’ stored in a school of children? It’s obvious to Harry that the old man is lying.
He sighs inwardly, then forces his voice small and scared once more. “But how... how did I kill professor Quirrell? I barely touched him.” That’s a lie but dumbledore doesn’t need to know that Harry tried to strangle the two-faced maniac. “He just... turned to dust. And I... I couldn’t save him.” Noble, brave, kind, wants to save everyone - that's the image he will paint for Dumbledore. Even though the only people he cares about protecting are his friends and familiars he would happily watch the world and every other person in it burn if it kept them safe.
Dumbledores smile seems to get brighter for a moment but its quickly dulled down to sad and pitying. God, Harry is surrounded by maniacs. “Your mother died to save you. Her love for you left a mark. In sacrificing herself for you she unknowingly left you with protection. Ensuring that Voldemort could not touch you without suffering great consequence. It happened the night he fell and once again when the man he possessed tried to harm you. A mother's love is a powerful thing. Quirrell was unable to survive it. Voldemort would not have expected it either, if there is one thing he has never understood... it is the power of love.”
Harry has to clamp his mouth shut so he doesn’t scoff in old man's face. If the simple act of sacrificing yourself to save your child was enough to protect them from death surely there would be thousands of cases similar to Harry’s. His dad had sacrificed himself to give his wife and child more time, should that not of ‘left a mark’ if Dumbledores theory is true?
No. While his parents love and dedication to his survival was a factor... that is not the thing that saved him. Harry was saved by his mother's magic and quick thinking, he was saved by whatever spell or ritual Lily cast on his infant self in the moments before her death. The reason Harry is alive cannot be dulled down to a simple word ‘love’ that would be insulting to his parents and every other person who has ever sacrificed themself to try and keep their child alive. And one thing is for sure... whatever Lily Evans Potter did that night was not by accident. She did not do it ‘unknowingly’.
“My mother’s love killed Quirrell.” He doesn't really manage to keep the blatant disbelief out of his voice, but the old man doesn’t seem to notice.
“Yes, dear boy, and your bravery of course. I am so deeply sorry I was not there to stop it. If I could have protected you from this I would have.” Dumbledore pats his shoulder before standing once more, peering down at the pile of gifts, before reaching for a tub of Berty bots every flavoured beans. “But you must know you are not at fault for Quirrell's demise, he chose his own path. May I have one of these?” He shakes the tub of jelly beans, smiling as if none of this conversation ever happened.
“Of course, professor.” Harry squashes the anger that has made a home in his body since Dumbledore entered the room. Keep your enemies close. He tells himself in a silent chant. Turning the phrase around and around in his mind, to force himself to not screw this up with Dumbledore.
“I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them, but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?” He muses serenely before smiling and opening the tub, popping a golden-brown bean into his mouth. “Alas! Ear wax!”
Harry does not know what he could possibly say to that.
~~~
“Foolish Child!” Snape says gliding towards Harry where he is lying on a hospital bed probably looking like he’s gone a round with death. Dumbledore only just left the hospital wing and Harry is still trying to process his conversation with the headmaster who is clearly out to get him.
But his thoughts about the old man get shoved to the back of his mind, surprised when Snape approaches, he can see clear worry and relief in the professor’s coal black eyes.
It’s strange. Harry doesn’t think any living adult has ever looked at him like that.
“Galivanting off like a reckless Gryffindor! Did you not stop to think for a moment? You should have come to me the second you realised Mr Weasley was gone! It is a miracle you are alive and breathing!” Snape stops next to the bed, towering over him, but there is no real anger in his words - just worry.
“We didn’t think you would believe us.” Harry admits quietly.
“Why would I not? You have not yet given me reason to doubt your word.” Snape shakes his head. “If- Merlin forbid –anything like this happens again, you tell me immediately. Do you understand Mr Potter?”
“Yes. I understand, professor.” He replies quickly, hoping the dour professor won’t suddenly turn angry.
“Good.” Snape takes a deep breath and sinks down into a chair near Harry’s bed.
It’s silent for a long while before Harry is brave enough to ask. “What happened after I fell unconscious?”
“The headmaster was just here was he not? He said he would update you on everything.” The professor frowns, surveying Harry slowly.
“He didn’t tell me anything useful. Just kept going on about what happened with Voldemort and Quirrell, but even that was vague.” Harry replies with a slightly sour expression.
He hears Snape mutter something that sounds a lot like ‘Curse the old fool’ so quietly Harry does not think he was supposed to hear it. He files it away for later inspection, if Snape doesn’t trust the headmaster, he could be safe to confide in. “You have been in a coma for almost a week. Whatever is left of the dark lord passed through you, I saw it. I got there just as you fell unconscious. You should have died from severe magical exhaustion, and the after effects of such a dark entity passing through your body. The only reason you did not was thanks to the philosopher stone that you held in close proximity.”
“Ah.” Harry takes a moment to ponder that, he almost died. For like the hundredth time. The novelty has long since worn off. “And Fred? I know he’s okay but... how?”
“Compulsions were used on Mr Weasley by Quirrell, to get him to the go under the school to be used as a lure for you.” Snape narrows his eyes, and he doesn’t look like he believes his own words. “A curse that saps the energy and magical essence from a person was used to dispose of him. Except of course it wasn’t successful, the curse can be reversed easily as long as the victim is still alive. Thankfully Mr Weasley was, and I was able to reverse it just before his time ran out.”
“It wasn’t Voldemort who lured Fred down there.” Harry blurts out before he can stop himself.
Snape’s expression darkens. “Tell me Mr Potter, who was it.”
“Dumbledore.” Harry says quietly. Snape does not look surprised; he looks like this is exactly the answer he expected and feared.
“I appreciate you sharing this information with me, Mr Potter.” He’s deadly calm, Harry can feel how angry his magic is like the silence in the eye of a storm. But somehow Harry doesn’t feel scared he thinks maybe it’s because the anger is not directed at him. Snape lowers his voice. “I advise you to keep this between yourself and those you trust explicitly. It would not end well informing the public of this. Albus is far to well liked. To well connected.”
“We know.” Harry replies through a sigh. “We know.”
Professor inclines his head in approval and rises from his seat. “I will inform your friends you are awake.” With that he leaves Harry alone with his thoughts once more.
~~~
Half an hour later, Harry has been hugged within in an inch of his life by all his friends. Including Blaise.
There was an absurd amount of tears on all sides and Harry has been thoroughly berated and threatened with a large number of strangely well thought out and extremely violent deaths for his stupidity, in going through the door alone.
Hermione wacked him on the head with her school bag (Which hurt quite a lot considering she had a literal novel in there) and shouted at him for a solid two minutes before embracing him and swearing she would disown him as her friend if he ever acted so stupid ever again.
Fred and George almost crushed him to death when they piled onto him at the same time and hugged him so hard, he couldn’t breathe (telling him how they had thought he was done for and they would have had to figure out how to revive him from beyond the grave)
Luna had cried the most (Which made Harry feel immensely guilty as he never ever wants to be something that makes Luna upset, but she has assured him that they were tears of relief that he was okay and not that she was sad or angry with him)
Blaise had stood in the corner without saying a word and glared at him so angrily it almost sent Harry into hysterics (but it lasted all of five minutes, before Blaise cracked and hugged Harry with tears in his eyes as he muttered darkly about sacrificing Harry to the gods of old if ever dared do something like that again)
Now they all sit piled on the small hospital bed, George and Luna squashed up either side of him, Hermione and Blaise at the foot of the bed sitting cross legged on the covers, and Fred is laying across the middle. None of them seem to want to be more than a few centimetres away from Harry. Which is absolutely okay with him as he doesn’t plan on letting any of them out of his sight ever again.
Their familiars are here too. Solace has been perched firmly on Harry’ head since the little raven arrived in the hospital wing (Blaise and Freya had been looking after him while harry was in a coma) Selena is still wrapped around his neck hissing quietly. Lila is curled up in Hermione’s lap, and Freya is sleeping with her head on Luna’s legs while Panda has hidden away in Blaise’s sleeve.
This bed is far too small to hold six humans and five familiars but they make it work.
Madam Pomfrey had reluctantly agreed to let his friends stay as long as they kept quiet and left before curfew. After she had went back to her office, Harry put up a silencing charm, and recounted all of what had happened after he went through the black fire and his conversation with Snape and Dumbledore.
They had all listened intently. Except for when they were looking at him in utter horror (when he told them about Voldemort being a face in the back of Quirrell's head). At the end of his story, they had all just sat there together in silence, letting everything that had happened sink in.
“So... Dumbledore told everyone we confronted Quirrell and stopped him from stealing something precious from the school? But he left out the fact lord Voldemort was stuck in the back of his head, and tried to kill Fred and me. Also, the fact that he the headmaster of this school, illegally used compulsions on minors, and built some sort of obstacle course of death to keep his friend Nicholas’ stone of immortality safe and turned a blind eye to Quirrell being possessed for the whole school year. Seemingly just to test me.” Harry surmises deadpan after his friends told him what has gone on while he’s been asleep.
“Yep.” Fred says through an exhale. “That’s spot on. Gold stars all round!”
“I still can’t believe he put the only known stone of immortality in the school's basement.” Hermione shakes her head looking outraged. “What is wrong with him? Is he actually insane?”
“Me and Fred always thought highly of him, since our mum is always banging on about how great he is. But I do not think like that anymore. I agree with Hermione he’s off his rocker. And if I ever get the chance to get him back for what he did to Harry and Fred, I will take it.” George says darkly.
“He is a master of war. He sees people as pawns, nothing more.” Luna says wisely, with an air of sadness.
“He’ll pay one day. We’ll make sure of it.” Blaise says staring of into the distance, Harry thinks he might be fantasising about killing the manipulative old man.
“One day... Yes.” Harry sighs tiredly. “But for now, we keep our enemy close. Our plan is still the same, find allies, strengthen ourselves, and prepare for whatever comes in the future.” He looks around at them sadly. “That wasn’t the last of Voldemort, we’ll see him again... or I will at least.”
“And if- or when -that happens, we’ll be right beside you.” Hermione says firmly leaving no room for argument.
“Absolutely.”
“Definitely.”
“Your pathetic if you thought otherwise.”
“We are your friends. We fight together or not at all.”
He finds himself smiling. Feeling truly calm, for the first time since before this whole incident happened. His friends still have his back. They will stand with him through whatever their future holds. He’s starting to think that there might be nothing that could stop them from sticking with him at this point.
They spend the rest of the afternoon talking and planning and catching Harry up with the things he missed. Until Madam Pomfrey kicks them out. Harry falls asleep easily that night knowing that for the first time in ten years... he has a family.
~~~
He was released from the hospital wing this morning, he had spent the day packing up his dormitory and trying not to have a mental breakdown.
Tomorrow they will board the Hogwarts express and leave Hogwarts behind for three whole months. Harry is feeling utterly miserable about it. He couldn’t bring himself to sit through the closing feast and he didn’t want the others to miss it on his behalf so instead he took Solace and Selena outside to watch the sun slowly set. He insisted he was fine smiling an assuring them he just needed some time alone... none of them seemed to believe him. But reluctantly they let him go.
So now he sits on the outskirts of the forbidden forest with his back leaning against the trunk of a large tree. Gently stroking Solace on his feathery head, the little bird chirps happily. Selena has abandoned them to go on a final expedition into the forest, probably hunting for some rare and extra delicious rodent.
He wonders how much of him will be broken and changed if he manages to make it back here for the next school term. Since coming here, he feels as if he has become someone else entirely, both physically and emotionally. While he is still broken, he feels as if some of the jagged pieces of his soul have been stitched back together. The ache of loneliness has subsided. He can accept warmth and comfort (most of the time) from his friends. He doesn’t walk through each day in pain anymore and the bone deep tiredness that has followed him for as long as he can remember has dissipated. He is physically well for the first time in life too, no longer frail and one breath away from crumbling. Harry does not want to return to what he was. He likes who he has become and he wishes he could stay like this for ever.
But he knows that is not realistic. For three months every year he must return to the Dursley and allow himself to become a shade of what he is. Bury his thoughts. Drown his dreams and choke on the shards of his loneliness. He hates it. He despises that he is helpless to stop it.
“Hello Harry.” Luna appears, breaking Harry away from his twisting thoughts, wandering over towards him across the uneven ground.
“Hey, Luna. What are you doing out here?”
“I saw you walking out here and you seemed a bit… melancholy.” She says gently gazing down at him as she comes to a stop near the tree.
“I’m ok. Don’t worry.” He says with a forced smile.
“No, you're not.” Luna tilts her head softly like she’s listening for something and then sits down next to him. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t really want to speak to anyone, he just wanted to sit here and stew in his own fear and self-pity, but how could he deny Luna Lovegood? Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “We board the train tomorrow.”
“You don’t want to go home.” Luna says, and Harry knows she understands why.
“No.” Harry scrubs at his eyes, trying to get rid of the tears that were slowly building. “I really don’t.”
She opens her arms and pulls him into a hug. Harry lets himself be hugged; he allows himself to feel comforted. He doesn’t flinch when she brings a hand to his head and runs her fingers through his hair, they sit like that for a while it could be minutes it could be hours, Harry doesn’t know. His face is wet with tears, he finds he doesn’t really care. Luna won’t judge him, she never does.
Luna breaks the silence. “Do you want to talk about it, Harry?”
Most of him doesn’t want to. The part of him that suffers silently, buries the pain, burns the tears and guards the words. Most of him wants to shut down and ignore that he’s scared and hurting, it’s what he always does. That’s how he’s made it so many years… it’s how he survives.
But the small part of him that he didn’t know existed before he met Luna, and the others, the small part of him that is soft, that allows comfort and vulnerability, the part of him that knows trust and care. That is the part of him that replies to Luna’s question.
“I’m scared to go home. I’m scared I won’t see you again. I am scared they will change me.” He whispers.
“They can’t change who you are at your core, Harry. And even if they did... I would still love you.” He looks at Luna and sees she has tears in her eyes, and he feels like all his words have disappeared and every thought he ever had has dissolved into dust, his heart stills in his chest. No one alive has ever loved him.
Harry stares at her for a long time, and finds he cannot find words good enough to reply. He does not know what love feels like but he thinks that the way he feels about Luna, Fred, George, Hermione, and Blaise... might just be it. But still, he finds he cannot tell her that, he cannot say the word.
Luna seems to understand in the way she always does, as she smiles at him, squeezes his hand gently and says with soft certainty. “You’ll come back. I’ll see you again.”
Harry makes himself speak, his voice shakes a bit and cracks around the edges, but he speaks through it, and manages a weak smile. “Dream?”
“Feeling.”