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Summer of Several Attempts by allieb

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When Harry woke, it was much later, and judging by the light coming through his window, it was probably mid evening. He looked around the room and he was completely taken aback. His room had always been sparsely furnished. Now there were two nice arm chairs, a couple of new side tables, and a portable cot. A rug was beside his bed. He was covered in a very soft knitted blanket, and there was nice bedside table next to the bed filled with fruit, rolls, and other sweets. Harry was flabbergasted.

He rolled over and helped himself to a pear sitting on the table and began to eat with voracity. He hadn’t had anything to eat since supper yesterday. Harry polished off the pear and was going after the chocolate frog when Hermione popped her head in the door.

“Harry,” she said looking delighted. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” Harry said between mouthfuls. “Are you and your parents staying here now?”

“Yes, we are,” she began, “us and about ten Aurors. The Ministry of Magic sent in one group of Aurors to stay here with us full time. Your aunt and cousin left here around 8:00 am to go to London. Did you know that your aunt suffered a bad blow to the head in the attack this morning?”

“No,” Harry admitted, “I didn’t.”

“I don’t think she was really hurt at all, but the Aurors modified her memory anyway. The house was secure by about 8:30 and we came over then. Mum and Dad have been getting comfortable. I have received permission from the Ministry to use magic while I’m here to help out, just household spells, but we do need to cook and clean for fourteen people.”

Harry smiled at his friend, “I’m glad you’re here. I just hope that you won’t get hurt too.”

Hermione apparently understood what Harry meant, “Ron is fine, Harry. He has a concussion from the fall he took into the wall, but otherwise he is okay. I think they already sent him home to the Burrow.”

“What about George, Bill, and Charlie?” Harry asked anxiously. It seemed all of the Weasley brothers had been hurt because of him.

“They’re all okay as well. George had some minor internal injuries; I think he’s going home tomorrow. Bill also has a concussion, but he was treated and released. Charlie has a broken nose and some bruises.”

Harry rolled back onto his back, and stared at the ceiling, “This is really beginning to get old, Hermione. I’ve got to put a stop to this.”

“Put a stop to what? Voldemort? Come on, Harry. That’s not your responsibility, you are just caught in the cross fire. Probably because he wants to prove that he can kill you. I’m sure he’ll get tired of chasing after you in awhile and go on to other plans. We just have to weather the storm until he does.”

“He’s never going to stop, Hermione. It won’t stop until one of us is dead,” Harry stated flatly to the ceiling.

“You don’t know that, Harry,” Hermione chastised.

“Yes, I do,” Harry turned to look at her. “I heard the contents of the prophesy, Hermione. It won’t stop until one of us is dead.” Harry hadn’t really meant to bring up the prophesy again, but it seemed to be foremost in his mind and his thoughts always came back to it.

Hermione’s look changed from one of reassurance to puzzlement, “What did the prophesy say, Harry? And how did you hear it?”

Harry looked at her, “I should really wait until Ron is here, but, Dumbledore told me the contents of the prophesy when you and Ron were in the hospital wing. Professor Trelawney gave it to him sixteen years ago at the Hogshead. I don’t remember exactly what it said. The point of it was that a baby born at the end of July of that year would have the power to destroy the Dark Lord. It said something about the Dark Lord marking him as his equal.” Harry pointed to his scar, “and that neither one of us can live while the other survives. So it’s not going to stop until one of us is dead.”

Hermione stopped and thought for a moment. Her eyes screwed up in concentration. “A baby born at the end of July will have the power to destroy the Dark Lord… So that’s what you meant about Neville?”

“Huh?”

“When you broke down in the hospital, you said something like ‘Why couldn’t have been Neville’. I wondered about that at the time. But you were saying that Neville could have been the one in the prophesy and not you. His birthday is also in July, right?”

Harry remembered now, “Yes it is. It could have initially been Neville or me. But Voldemort picked me, not Neville. Dumbledore thought it was because I’m a half-blood. But Voldemort didn’t hear the entire prophesy so he didn’t realize that if he tried to kill me, it wouldn’t work. He didn’t know that the curse would only mark me, and not kill me. He didn’t realize the spell could rebound.”

Hermione pondered for a moment, “So the prophesy that Voldemort wanted said that you were going to be the one with the power to destroy him?”

“Yes it did.”

“But he didn’t find that out.”

“No he didn’t. He knows some of it, based on the information he had at around the time we were born.”

“So he still doesn’t know all of it?”

“As far as I know, he doesn’t.”

“That gives us the advantage, Harry. It gives us information that he doesn’t have.”

“I don’t see how that will help,” Harry said despondently. “I still don’t know what power I have, or what power I have that he doesn’t have.”

“You have power Harry, I’ve seen it. So has everyone else.”

Harry’s anger flashed, “You weren’t there, Hermione. You’ve never seen the kind of power that he has and he doesn’t have any reservation about using it. Like Cedric, Voldemort killed him simply because he was in the way. He didn’t know Cedric, he didn’t care who he was, or who his family was, all he cared about was that Cedric was in the way at the time. So he up and killed him. He’s ruthless.”

Hermione soothed, “You’re right, I’ve never been face to face with him. But I know he’s ruthless, powerful, and very clever.”

Harry was on the verge of breaking down again, “And somehow, I’m supposed to have the power to bring him down. Voldemort is going to keep trying to kill me until either he succeeds or I figure out how to stop him. The trouble is, I don’t have a clue of what I need do. And every person who is associated with me is in danger, including my uncle, aunt, and cousin who are Muggles. I have single-handedly gotten four of the six Weasley brothers injured in less than twelve hours.”

“It’s not your fault, Harry. There is no way that you could have anticipated these three attacks. How would have you known that Voldemort would be working with Muggles? Even if you had known, could you have done anything differently? You do your best thinking on your feet. Look at the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the Sorcerer’s Stone, and the Department of Mysteries, in all those cases you were able to do things that you normally wouldn’t have been able to do. You managed to get all of us out of the Department of Mysteries alive. There were ten Death Eaters, by all rights, we should have all died.

“We never should have gone to the Department of Mysteries, and you knew that even before we left,” Harry responded despondently.

“No I didn’t know. If I had known for sure, I would have stopped you somehow.” Hermione sighed, “I knew that if you could access Voldemort’s thoughts, then he would be able to manipulate you, by planting thoughts in your head. You never realized that could happen. Am I right?”

Harry nodded, “And I never bothered learning Occumency either. I not only didn’t realize I could be tricked; I never tried to shut off the connection. I compounded the problem.” Harry couldn’t stop the tears from coming now, “and Sirius died because of my mistake. If it wasn’t for me Sirius would be alive right now, probably sitting by the fire at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.”

Hermione came over and took Harry’s hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze. “Harry, if it wasn’t for you, Voldemort would have dismantled the Wizarding world sixteen years ago, and Sirius would have probably died in the war. You gave him and everyone else a second chance.”

Harry’s grief turned instantly to anger, “But I didn’t do anything. It wasn’t me that stopped him. Everyone thinks that I’m this hero, but I’m not.”

“You did stop Voldemort, Harry. Nobody knows how, but you did. Look at through Mrs. Weasley’s perspective. She had six young children by that point. They were living in a small house, hiding out because Mrs. Weasley’s brothers were a part of the Order. She was scared to death that they were going to be murdered. If they did live through it, she was afraid that Hogwarts would be closed, and her children would have no magical education, meaning no future. The Weasleys aren’t like you and me. They don’t know enough about the Muggle world to exist in it. So there she was, with six small boys, and no hope for the future. That’s when you stopped Voldemort. You restored her hope. You restored the hope of all the Wizards in the world.”

“But it was a flute,” Harry said angrily desperately trying to hold on to the anger. The anger was covering the grief, which was poking through, and Harry would rather be angry.

“You don’t know that. You don’t why the curse rebounded. I don’t think anyone does. The important thing is that you lived.”

“I wish I wouldn’t have,” Harry whispered, “I wish that I would have just died with my parents.” Harry’s grief overcame him again. He started crying again. “Then I wouldn’t have had to deal with…This.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione breathed quietly. “You don’t really mean that.”

Harry couldn’t answer, he just quietly sobbed in his bed, thinking of Sirius, his mother and father, and the fact that he would have to kill Voldemort. In a way, he was mourning for himself too. The Harry that played Quidditch, made up Divination homework, and liked Cho Chang was gone. The new Harry was consumed by grief and duty. The new Harry has to worry about destroying a person so evil that most people refused to say his name. The new Harry was a man, with a duty and a responsibility that was beyond what most adults have. It all happened so fast. One morning, he was a fifteen year old taking exams with fifteen year old problems, and by that night, he was fifteen year old adult, with more responsibility than he could bear. Even now, several weeks later, it was still overwhelming.

Hermione was talking soothingly to him, “I’m here Harry, and you’re not going to do through this alone. I’m here.”

Hermione’s simple assurances of friendship made Harry’s grief completely break free. He cried and cried and cried. Hermione sat with him, and at some point she helped him sit up and held him while he sobbed.

Finally, Harry was able to say, “I just don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

Hermione broke the hug and looked at him, she was crying too, “You don’t need to know right now. Right now you just need to get better. You can worry about Voldemort later, when you’ve regained your strength.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Harry said despondently.

“But it’s true Harry. There is nothing you can do right now. Right now all that you can do is recover both physically and mentally. Right now, you’re not ready to face any more attacks. Both Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic know that. You will be closely guarded the rest of the summer. They’re working on it right now.”

There was comfort in that thought. Harry latched on to it. He would have to face Voldemort again, but not now. Not for the entire summer, Dumbledore had seen to that. He was able to relax somewhat and the other emotional pain came up, “I miss Sirius, Hermione, I really miss him.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say, she just looked at him sadly.

A new voice came into the room from the doorway, “You always will miss him, Harry. But eventually it won’t hurt so much. It will get better. It will take a lot of time, but someday you’ll be able to think about him, and it won’t hurt anymore.” Mrs. Granger was standing there observing the two teenagers. “The best thing you can do is just talk about him when you need to, and cry if you need to. Letting the hurt out will help.”

Harry doubted it, because after discussing this whole thing with Hermione he felt worse not better. He would rather not feel at all. He merely nodded to Mrs. Granger and said, “Thanks.”

“Are you okay for visitors, Harry? There are a few people downstairs who need to talk to you, several actually.”

“That depends,” Harry said, “who are they?”

“Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape need to discuss some things with you. The Minister of Magic is here waiting to talk. Your old Professor, Remus Lupin is also here. Apparently he needs to talk to you about some legal documents your parents left. Your doctor should be here in about thirty minutes, and he’ll want to talk to you as well.”

Harry sighed and dropped back into his pillows. “They all want to talk, now?” Harry asked. “Do you suppose it could wait until the morning?”

“I have kept them waiting most of the day already, Harry,” Mrs. Granger answered. “I will tell them that you are indisposed, if you really can’t talk. But I’m sure they wouldn’t have waited this long if it wasn’t important.”

Harry was surprised, “Mr. Fudge waited here all day for me to wake up?”

“Fudge is not the Minister of Magic any more, Harry,” Hermione answered, “he was forced out of office after the attack here at Privet Drive. They said that he was incompetent. There is an interim Minister. It’s a woman, her name is Amelia Bones. Susan’s Bones Aunt, I believe. She’s been waiting for a couple of hours to see you. She and Dumbledore have been in the den most of the afternoon.”

Harry digested the new information. He always had thought that Fudge was incompetent, so that wasn’t surprising, but the fact he was forced out was. “They really forced him out?” Harry asked Hermione.

“Yes they did. Between the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, and then the huge attack and breach of secrecy at your house, the public was demanding that he leave office. They are really upset that Fudge tried to discredit you and Dumbledore rather than admit the Voldemort had returned.”

Hermione’s Mum chimed in, “What it really came down to was you, Harry. From what I understand, Fudge put himself firmly on a side against you and Dumbledore. When Voldemort showed up in the Ministry, Fudge lost face. He had been assuring the public for months that there was nothing to worry about, but then there was Voldemort in the middle of the Ministry of Magic. Then you were attacked by Death Eaters. That was a huge. At least three Aurors and five Muggles died in that attack. Only one Death Eater was apprehended, and they are still trying to clean up the mess. Everyone was angry. They said, and rightfully so, that if Fudge had acted sooner, most of this wouldn’t have happened. The public was angry because the Ministry didn’t realize that you would be a target. The public is angry because no one was taking care of you.”

Hermione started talking again, “You should just see the Daily Prophet today, Harry. I have it downstairs. The headline was ‘Boy-Who-Lived Attacked at Muggle Hospital, Narrowly Escapes Death.’ They’ve had a field day with it. There was an article about Muggle Hospitals and the surgery you went through. There is an article about the Weasley family and how they protected you at all costs, resulting in the injuring of four of their seven children. There was an article about Squibs and their rights for magical transportation.”

Harry took it all in without comment. Fudge forced out of office, and the public finally came around to the truth. He didn’t know what to think.

“So, Harry,” Mrs. Granger began again, “do you think you could talk to everyone downstairs? I will send them away if you don’t feel up to it.”

Harry was a bit puzzled, Mrs. Granger was willing to tell Dumbledore, Lupin, Snape, and the Minister of Magic to shove off if he didn’t feel up to talking? “I have a choice?” Harry asked.

“Yes, you do,” Mrs. Granger said firmly, “I’m not about to put you through any more ordeals if I can possibly help it. You legally are my ward now and if you don’t feel like talking, I’ll send them all packing.”

Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Mrs. Granger. She was willing to stand up for him. No one had ever done that before. He supposed that’s what parents did. Not that he knew. But like Mrs. Granger said earlier, what Dumbledore and Amelia Bones wanted was probably important or else they wouldn’t have waited so long.

“I can talk,” Harry said, adjusting himself in his bed again. He felt a little sheepish and asked, “is there any way I could some more to eat?”

Hermione’s mum brandished a plate that contained a Shepard’s pie, “Hermione made them for supper, using magic. I hope you like it.” She handed the plate over to a very grateful Harry. She continued, “I’ll run down and tell Dumbledore that you are up and ready to talk. I’ll give you a few minutes so you can finish eating first.” She left the room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone again.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked him, “and please be honest. I’m like your big sister now.” She smiled at him mischievously, “I’ve always wanted a little brother, and I suppose you’ll do.”

Harry laughed, “Your little brother huh? I guess you got all the brains in the family.”

She shot back, “You got all the strength. So are you okay?”

Harry thought for a minute about the question, and then said honestly, “No, I’m not okay. I miss Sirius, and I hurt. But, I think that I’m going to be okay. Like your mum said, it’s just going to take time. And like you said, I don’t have to face Voldemort again for awhile. I can get better, and let other people deal with him, until I’m ready.”

Hermione smiled at him watched him wolf down his food. A few minutes later, Dumbledore walked into the room., followed closely by Professor Snape, Professor Lupin, and Madam Bones.