Fanfiction

Harry Potter and the Eye of Power--by Berilac

Chapter 7: Back at Hogwarts

Summary: Harry's sent back to Hogwarts by Snape after being rescued by the Potions Master, but he's suddenly plagued by strange feelings and frightening moments of possession by the Dark Lord. Can Dumbledore help, or will Harry be overwhelmed?

The few minutes it took to soar through the forest felt like an eternity to Harry. Dense foliage looked like blurry streaks of green and white on either side of him. He remained firmly attached to Snape's legs as the Potions Master controlled the direction of their flight.

After what seemed like ages, the two of them descended rather dramatically amidst the trees and bushes of the forest. Harry gazed straight ahead of him and saw a familiar hollowed-out region of the forest. It wasn't like the one he and Yorick had been in the evening before. This one was larger and boasted fewer trees. A number of decaying logs littered the moss-infested earth—in fact, the entire hollow appeared abandoned, as if some creature (or creatures) used to reside in this particular section of the forest and didn't any longer....

Both of them finally touched the ground lightly and effortlessly. Snape quickly threw off the Levitation cape and tapped Harry's head with his wand. The Disillusionment Charm was immediately taken off. Snape did the same to himself, placing the wand over his almost indecipherable outline and now both he and Harry were visible to the naked eye once again.

Without hesitating another second, Snape began to rummage through the decomposing logs for something while Harry wiped the stray leaves and twigs that had gotten caught in his T-shirt and trousers while in flight. As Harry was brushing off a few of the more crinkly leaves, he looked over to his right and noticed remains of what appeared to be gigantic cobwebs, or worse... a spider's web....

"Er... P-Professor," Harry spoke up shakily.

"Not now, Potter!" hissed Snape as he stepped out from behind one of the larger overturned and rotting logs with part of a stump resting in both his hands. "We've got to get you out of here-"

"But, this place looks rather-"

"Silence!" Snape said with obvious indignation. "There's no time for you to be chatting about a storm! You've already gotten in the way of some extremely important business and I won't allow any more holdups!"

"But sir! It wasn't my f-"

"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME, POTTER!" Snape snarled, his black eyes piercing with unrestrained malice. "I have NO idea as to how you managed to be in the company of-those people. But I assure you, Dumbledore will not be pleased with these shenanigans of yours!"

Another faint rustle came from the deep and shadowy insides of the forest, beyond the remnants of the massive spider webs that wove around the border of trees. Images from around three years ago filtered rapidly back through Harry's head: he recalled a dark, starry sky, Fang barking in the background, the revving engine of the Weasleys' battered and wild Ford Anglia; Harry remembered Ron completely petrified at the sight, and a commune of abnormally large and hairy spiders, spiders that were numberless.

"Aragog!" Harry whispered aloud with obvious anxiety.

"What?" Snape shouted, his wand pointed directly at the stump as if he was using it as a dousing rod.

"Th-This place is his lair!" Harry said fearfully.

Snape looked at Harry for a moment as if he was delusional and then peered back down at the stump. He concentrated upon the stump and spat out "Portus!" rather viciously, as if it had misbehaved in one of his Potions classes.

"What are you doing-sir?" Harry said.

"Making a Portkey to take you straight to Dumbledore," Snape said quickly. "And don't even try to ask any questions right now. You'll be sent there immediately when I set this down and you touch it. I order you to speak to no one about what you've seen, or that you've seen me here... like this...."

Harry didn't move, even after Snape released contact with the stump. There came another rustle, more like the scuttling of legs whispering over the brittle and dead leaves that smothered the forest floor where logs weren't rotting.

"Potter, touch the stump," Snape ordered, more sternly than before. His lip was curled; his right foot protruded from under his robe, tapping impatiently; he obviously was in a rush. "Touch it, NOW!"

But Harry remained motionless. He looked at Snape-and a sharp stab of pain tore his head open. This was pain worse than almost every other pain he had experienced. He remembered pain akin to this current searing: it was last year in the Atrium of the Ministry, when Voldemort tried to reside in Harry's own head along with him, but failed.

"Potter..." came Snape's far-away voice, his concern barely noticeable.

"And why are you here!" Harry's now high-pitched voice resonated loudly across the open space, his eyes burning a deep red, his vision blurred, the profile of Snape melting away like burning candle wax. Again, Harry felt himself talk:

"I admit I am rather perturbed with the current situation, but your punishment will come... someday. Not soon though; I'm sure you'll be safe for now under his wing, you-Potions Master-"

"TOUCH THE STUMP, NOW!"

Snape made a desperate lunge at Harry, tackling him to the ground and forcing his hand to brush against the decaying remnants of the tree stump. An imaginary hook caught Harry's navel, he lurched forward and into a blur of endless color as Snape shouted, his words fading away with each syllable.

"Tell no one about this! Not... even... Dumbledore..."

Harry tried to piece these words in his mind in a coherent fashion. His mind felt as if it was popping sporadically in places like popcorn being heated up-scalding hot and completely numbing. He couldn't think anymore-all he could do was hear, hear maniacal laughter and resonating words from someone's high-pitched evil voice.

"We'll get him, Wormtail! We'll get him...."

* * *

Harry opened his eyes. Slowly, slowly, a blurred high domed ceiling shifted into focus. He turned on his side and noticed he was next to a large wooden desk, tall and imposing from where he lay. His head was still throbbing uncontrollably. What had just happened, he thought. He was in the forest... but what was going on? Harry tried to come up with a reason as to why he had said those things, why he had felt so... unlike himself... why he felt so evil just then....

A high-pitched but soothing song started to flow across the room mellifluously, permeating the tense atmosphere that was suffocating Harry. As the song continued on, Harry's head cleared. He felt at peace. It was unmistakably phoenix song. And he knew where he was: Dumbledore's office.

Harry leapt up and, abandoning the stump which had fallen completely apart during his travel to his current location, peered around the office to see if Dumbledore was there, awaiting his return back to normal civilization. But he wasn't there. Only Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix-who was resting upon his perch-was present. The phoenix still bore the tumultuous effect of Voldemort's curse last school year when it fought alongside Dumbledore at the Ministry of Magic. He was still rather young and frail-looking, his feathers were not evenly distributed and they didn't hold the shimmer they used to. His eyes were doleful and he hadn't grown completely to his adult dimensions yet.

"How are you, Fawkes?" Harry said softly, afraid to disturb him too much.

"Rather chuffed, if you ask me," came a bemused voice behind Dumbledore's desk. Phineas Nigellus was sitting, smirking slightly in his portrait. He was Sirius's grandfather, a former headmaster of Hogwarts, and intermediary between Dumbledore's office and Number 12 Grimmauld Place. "That bird needs continuous care to be nursed back to health, the poor thing."

"Where's Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"Around," Phineas half-heartedly shrugged. "I daresay, he's been worried about you. Fatherly sentiment. How... touching."

"What-he's been worried?"

"After what's happened last year, you don't think he'd be worried at your disappearance?" Phineas's lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. "You teenagers-your minds never process things completely. You always view things at face-value."

Before Harry could retort Phineas's words, the door into the office opened and Harry swung around to see a tall, old man in long aquamarine robes. He had long, white hair and beard, a crooked nose and half-moon spectacles. Professor Dumbledore was smiling tiredly as he ambled slowly toward Harry, with arms outstretched and shaking, perhaps because of rheumatism, or maybe even with relief at Harry's arrival in his office... or even with uncharacteristic anxiety.

"You're here," he said, with a trace of gladness in his hoarser-than-normal voice. His eyes twinkled behind his spectacles. "And not a moment too soon..."

"Professor," Harry said, nonplussed. "I want to-"

"First off Harry, you must hear me out," Dumbledore said, his eyes suddenly losing their shimmer, and being replaced by a serious stare that stopped Harry from replying. "I do not claim to be fully ignorant of this affair," he continued. "I realize that a Yorick Hades had indeed kidnapped you from your caretaker at the time, Ms. Arabella Figg."

"Is she, is she-"

"She's fine," Dumbledore reassured Harry. "She was stunned, quite powerfully so, but stunned nonetheless. Not dead, of course not! Alastor Moody was able to bring her round. He, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and the rest of the Order assigned to your watch were unfortunately too late to stop Yorick. Your owl to them had just arrived when he struck. And he struck unexpectedly."

"Sir," Harry said. "He, Yorick that is, said I was in danger because of my aunt and uncle's absence from Privet Drive...."

"And of course he was over-exaggerating," Dumbledore said confidently, walking behind his desk. "Yorick Hades is a very complex and peculiar individual. Highly paranoid as well. He and I have rarely exchanged owls, but every time we've done so, it has been in heavy disagreement over something. He's been completely attached to past grudges, quite like some other people I know," he paused here but then continued. "So much so that he doesn't realize that taking you to his private headquarters was a dread mistake."

"You know about his headquarters? In the caves?" Harry asked dumbfounded.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, sitting down in his chair, looking quite comfortable. "I know more than he thinks I do. In fact, the Ministry knows more than he thinks they do. He believes he is immune to everything. He thinks he is invisible to everyone's vision. A very foolish mindset to have. Very foolish indeed. His intelligence has completely clouded his perception."

"But sir-" Harry began. He halted, trying to decipher the look on Dumbledore's face. It appeared quite impenetrable at the moment. "Why did Yorick kidnap me? It can't have just been because of fear, or that he was paranoid?"

"I'm afraid Yorick has acted rashly in the past. Not recently," Dumbledore added, "well, he has recently, but awhile back he made some very questionable decisions, acted in unorthodox ways. He withdrew from communicating with the Ministry... and myself. Some of the Ministry people think he's one of Voldemort's secret Death Eaters. Others think he's dead. And some just feel he's a buffoon who doesn't realize he has no power but what's in his head. He's an enigma, no question.

"Also, Yorick is a powerful man, but he's no Death Eater. And," Dumbledore gave Harry an encouraging wink, "he definitely isn't dead."

Harry's mind started to swim with vivid visions of Snape pulling off a Death Eater's mask at the mention of Voldemort's followers. He saw the Potions Master towering over the motionless body of Bilks. Harry wanted to ask Dumbledore why Snape was there along with the raid of Death Eaters to begin with, but Snape's words resonated in his brain. It was also intermingled with Voldemort's shouts of fury to Snape-or to someone else? All he could remember was: "Tell no one... Dumbledore..."

But Harry was saved pondering on how to articulate his words because Dumbledore spoke up once more.

"Is there something you'd wish to speak with me about?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes locked with Harry's in the same manner as when the headmaster confronted Harry in his second year about his concerns on whether he should have been sorted into Slytherin. "You possibly wish to speak about the Death Eaters? They are being tipped off by someone, I don't know who. But they're getting the whereabouts of Yorick's hideaway, and whatever Yorick has locked in there is very powerful, I don‘t doubt that in the slightest. Voldemort would die to lay his hands on whatever was there, which is why Professor Snape ran into you there, I suppose."

"How'd you know that-?"

"Who else would have rescued you-seeing as none of the Order was able to locate you and actually get there in that short a time frame? No one truly knows where the headquarters are. They're near the Forbidden Forest, that we know, but it will undoubtedly be guarded and made Unplottable now that certain Death Eaters have attempted to breach their way through Yorick's defenses.

"And-" Dumbledore said after a slight intake of breath ignoring Harry's gaze of surprise and perplexity, "-now that you know so much about that place and about certain others secret positions," he spoke very slowly and carefully, making sure that what he was saying was being said correctly, "Voldemort will most definitely try and glean as much as he can about what's inside there. He might possibly try and tackle your mind once again, although it proved rather nasty for him in the end last time he tried. Yes, Harry, this means-"

Harry gritted his teeth as the word was said.

"-this means, Occlumency."

Harry let out an unpleasant groan and Phineas Nigellus let out a light snigger at the word and pointed mockingly at Harry behind Dumbledore, only to immediately cease upon the turn of Dumbledore's head at the sound of his sudden burst of laughter.

"Professor," Harry started. "Er, why do I have to continue Occlumency with Snape-?"

"And who said Professor Snape was going to teach you this time around?" Dumbledore asked him, faintly grinning, his eyes now twinkling once more. "I will be teaching you, of course."

"What?"

Harry was at a loss for words. Dumbledore-teach him? Well, it would be easier for Harry and Dumbledore to gaze each other's eyes-Voldemort would be loath to try and completely possess Harry again. But still-was it still safe enough to do?

"We won't start with full lessons right away," Dumbledore said. "But I want you to master the art and possibly learn a bit of Legilimency also. You need to shut your mind from Voldemort's penetrations, if he chooses to do so again. If he breaches through your mind again, he could wrestle anything out of you. Even the Prophecy, which would be fatal for you.

"Currently, Voldemort is wreaking havoc-or so we assume-in different areas around Britain. Car fires, possible bombings, many things that are being attributed to terrorists. Of course, we know that Voldemort is behind most of it-"

"I saw him!" Harry said.

"What?" Dumbledore said, rather sternly than he might have intended.

"I saw him, Voldemort, while I was asleep. He... he pointed his wand out of a second-story window and set a car in a crowded street ablaze. Muggles were screaming. It... it was horrible."

Dumbledore was surveying Harry rather intricately. It made Harry feel uneasy. A sudden twinge of irritation arose inside of him.

"Voldemort knew that I had witnessed what he had done. "I-I think I understand why I need the lessons now," he added hastily.

And suddenly, something inside of Harry came out of his mouth, as if some demon was latched onto his vocal chords and forming the words. "That stupid man! That horrible teacher! Snape... I can't believe that he thought he could teach me!"

"What did you say?" Dumbledore said, completely astonished. Phineas Nigellus's mouth appeared to have touched the base of the portrait frame. A couple of the other portraits gasped at Harry's words.

"I ... I don't know..." Harry said, his eyes widening in shock, his legs starting to buckle. Sweat was pouring down his face. He was breathing rapidly.

Dumbledore made to say something but whatever was controlling Harry's voice, let loose once more.

"I do know what I said, and I know what you're thinking, Dumbledore-" Harry collapsed onto his knees. Dumbledore dashed around his desk, but upon this movement, Harry head shot up quicker than an unruly Bludger. "Don't come any closer!"

"Why are you inside of him Tom-"

"Don't even think about touching the boy," arose the high spine-tingling voice from inside of Harry. Suddenly Harry's head gave an awful lurch, the scar on his forehead beginning to sear with an incredible burning pain and he yelled out loud in his normal voice: "Get away, get away! I don't want you to be inside of me any longer... Voldemort!"

"Well, it's not like I want to be here either, boy!" came Voldemort's voice once more, high and cool as ever, as if no trace of concern or hindrance was plastered upon it.

And then... the feelings stopped... Harry's pain in his head slowly began to ebb away like a declining ocean tide. He was breathing quite heavily, shook up from this latest incident. He looked up at Dumbledore who was edging to closer to him, his long lanky fingers reaching for him to help him to stand up straight again. At that moment, thoughts began to swirl horribly around in his head: Why was Voldemort in his body just now, in plain sight of Dumbledore? And what was worse, why was Voldemort residing in his mind when he didn't currently want to be?

Dumbledore seemed to have noticed Harry's concern behind the overly-disheveled hair, sweating face, and heavy breathing. His eyes gave off a sympathetic twinkling and he smiled in a pacifying way.

"This is exactly the reason why you need Occlumency," said Dumbledore calmly. "You need to filter out everything that Voldemort tries to sling at you, even if it is unintentional, like what you just said and what you just heard him say. We can't have these outbursts. I fear that they may be more dangerous than I might have thought.... I desperately hope that these won't happen once term begins. That's why we need to start as soon as possible."

Harry felt around for a chair and found the wooden one that stood next to Fawke's stand. He sat down and buried his face in his hands. What had gotten into him just now? Why was this happening…? Harry felt sick, his eyes were brimming with tears; the scar still prickled slightly, but it wasn't as bad as when Snape and he were in Aragog's deserted-looking hollow. And it wasn't as bad as a minute or so ago when he screamed at Dumbledore.

"I want to see Ron and Hermione and everyone else," Harry said desperately after a few seconds of complete silence from the both of them.

"You will go to Diagon Alley escorted by the Weasleys and perhaps some of the Order," Dumbledore said. "In due time, of course. You will remain here for now. Your owl and your trunk will be shipped here shortly. We will begin lessons in the meantime. I'm sorry," Dumbledore added when he saw the look of complete disbelief spread across Harry's face. "But right now, you're emotional state is not the best, and the lessons will not aid too well in your recovery. Right now, we'll go slowly. And we'll only go for a half-hour once a week. I'll call for the Weasleys and see if they'll drop by for a day. It isn't usually allowed... but we can try to bend a few rules. The Ministry did bend quite a few last year, didn't they?"

Dumbledore winked again and Harry's mind eased up a bit. He still felt rather isolated and alone, and scared because of his most recent venomous outburst against Snape. He wanted to know why he said what he did. Was Voldemort seriously possessing Harry in a way that neither he, nor Voldemort, knew about?

But currently, things felt a bit better, as if it all might possibly work out, whatever the hell that meant....

Dumbledore stood up slowly, groaning as he did so. He then walked over to a window Harry never noticed before during his other visits to Dumbledore's office. It overlooked a different part of the Hogwarts grounds. Dumbledore turned back toward Harry.

"You know, I think it might be good for you to go out and walk around the grounds. I think Hagrid's around somewhere, perhaps by his hut. I think it'd be a good idea for you to talk with him, it'll clear up your mind."

Dumbledore winked and turned back around. Harry said a quick thank you and walked out of his office. It was almost a silent traverse to the main doors, but in the hall right before the marble staircase, Harry ran into the very thing he wished he wouldn't: Peeves, the friendly school poltergeist.

"Oh, rottery Potter, what are yoooouuuu doing here so early? Couldn't wait to start up on some hijinx with your old pal, Peevsie?"

And without further ado, Peeves reached inside his orange-and-white checkered suit coat and took out a squirt gun, double-barreled, and as lurid as his coat.

"The new Muggle weaponry is ever so much fun" Peeves squealed with delight. He began to spray Harry relentlessly with a completely harsh spray of water.

Harry cursed angrily under his breath and dashed down the marble staircase, trying not to slip because of the water that now covered the steps. Right on cue, and (surprisingly) to Harry's relief, Filch the caretaker, arrived in time to see Peeves watering the floor as if it was a vegetable patch.

"PEEVES!" Filch shouted angrily, entering the hall, face beet-red, his jowls quivering irritably. "THIS IS THE LAST STRAW! I'M GOING TO THE HEADMASTER!"

Harry shot out of the entrance hall doors and dashed down toward Hagrid's hut, leaving Peeves chortling as Filch chased him down. As Harry was running away from the castle, indenting a deep path through the tall grasses that waved faintly in the cool breeze that dried his shirt in a matter of minutes, he hoped Filch wouldn't call out to him to come back and explain to him why he was here at Hogwarts weeks earlier than the rest of the students. He felt he didn't want to explain the whole situation, especially to Filch, someone Harry trusted even less than the Dursleys.

But the atmosphere was clearly devoid of Filch's shouts or Peeves's hysterical laughter as Harry stopped to rest right at Hagrid's front door. Looking around, Harry didn't notice anything peculiar. But, then again, there would be a few weeks before the next term began, and Hagrid still had time to procure whatever he was planning on teaching.

Harry knocked on the door and without a second's pause, Hagrid opened up the door, completely taken aback at the sight he saw before him.

"Harry!" he said breathlessly. "Yer here! But, how'd you-where's Dumbledore-blimey!"

Harry grinned widely as Hagrid beckoned him inside his house, Fang barking happily at his heels, awaiting a fresh wave of stories from Harry as to where he had been and what he had been doing for the past month of vacation.

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Posted by rockygirl at March 21, 2004 08:19 AM