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Cruciatus Cursed by Moony 62442

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Chapter Notes: It is all Miss Rowling’s; I am simply playing in her sandbox for a bit.

Here it is, everyone: I give you the finale.

“Yeah, we even saw you use the Cruciatus. Nearly hit Kingsley, you did, but he got out of the way. It was bloody brilliant, mate,” Ron said enthusiastically before seeing the glare Hermione was sending his way. “Er… in a scary sort of way, that is.”

“Ronald, you really don’t have any sensitivity, do you?” Hermione sighed in an irritated manner, rolling her eyes at him when he looked confused.

“Well, it wa”OW!”

“You were wrong Hermione,” Ginny groaned, glaring as her brother rubbed the back of his head from her slap. “It isn’t even a teaspoon’s worth.”

Harry stifled a snicker as he watched the three of them: Ron’s eyes were shifting between Hermione and Ginny rapidly, a shocked expression on his face. “How did you know about that?” Hermione once again rolled her eyes and he looked at her for the answer.

“You don’t think that you and Harry are the only people I talk to, do you?” Ginny giggled at the answer and grinned at Harry, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the two.

Ron looked immediately contrite, realising that he had just made the same mistake again, as always. “Of course not, but my sister?”

The grin on Ginny’s face faded and she slipped into glaring at him again, one eyebrow raised. “And what is so wrong with me, big brother?” she asked in a dangerously calm voice.

“Alright, I don’t think that fighting in the Hospital Wing is going to make Madam Pomfrey’s job any easier,” another voice said. The four teenagers turned to see Remus striding into the room, looking worn and gray as ever.

“Where have you been?” Ron asked, making a face when Hermione looked at him skeptically. “What?” She just shook her head in disbelief, not bothering to answer as Remus did it for her.

“I had work to do for the Order, Ron.” The latter’s face cleared and he nodded, not seeing Ginny shoot Harry a look behind his back, to which he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at. It had been almost two days since what had happened at Gringotts and most of the time since they found out that Harry was back in his right mind had been spent filling him in on what had happened in the last month. When they had first started relating everything to him, Harry had had trouble believing that it could be true. But where else could he have disappeared to for a month? That and the fact that he had the Mark to prove what had happened. Madam Pomfrey had wrapped up his left arm and told him that Dumbledore was looking for any way to remove it, but so far nothing had been found. He just hoped that he wouldn’t have to bear this mark for the rest of his life, as he had to with his scar. Until they were able to remove it, he would be wearing the bandage around his arm and, as the matron had suggested, long sleeves.

His scar hadn’t bothered him in the two days since the attack, although the teenagers had expected it to. Dumbledore had not been to the Hospital Wing but once, so Remus had told them that Voldemort was most likely performing Occlumency of his own to keep Harry’s mind separate from his.

“Everything has been quiet since the raid at Gingotts, so it seems that Voldemort is laying low for a while to lull the Ministry into a false sense of security,” Remus was saying, shaking his head as he sat down heavily on a chair that he had just conjured for himself, the teenagers rapt in attention. “So far, Fudge is falling for it. He doesn’t want to cause an uproar”“

“How can it not? Once everyone finds out about the other ni”“

“The point, Harry, is that they won’t,” Remus cut him off, shaking his head again. “He is leaning heavily against the Prophet and any other form of accurate news.”

Ron sniggered. “I’m guessing he isn’t fussed over The Quibbler then, huh?” Hermione sent him a glare that could freeze fire while Ginny looked away, disgusted. Remus just smiled.

“He’s right, girls. But enough on that subject,” he said quickly as Molly Weasley entered the Hospital Wing, all of the teenagers stifling chuckles at his blatant disregard for Mrs. Weasley’s “no information” policy. Harry grinned, watching Ron roll his eyes as his mother proceed to fuss over the Boy-Who-Lived.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry scuffed the toe of his trainer on the ground as he stood in front of the stairs to the headmaster’s study, not sure if he wanted to go up or not. After he had woken up in the Hospital Wing, everything had come back with painful realisation, remembering well who had deserted him, and who’s fault it was that Sirius was gone. All over some stupid prophecy that he couldn’t just get himself, he mused bitterly, taking a deep breath and going up the steps.

At the top, he knocked twice and waited to be told to enter before he did so, looking around as he closed the door. The room hadn’t changed much since the last time he had been in here earlier in the term: Fawkes’ perch where it always was, the bird being slightly smaller than before from its rebirth, the Sorting Hat in its proper place, and all of the strange instruments that Dumbledore seemed to collect whirring and buzzing. The headmaster was sitting behind his desk, looking up and smiling as Harry entered. “Good afternoon, Harry.”

The latter nodded, coming to stand in front of the desk and greeting the older man stiffly, “Afternoon, Professor.” Dumbledore gestured for him to sit and he did so, although he sat on the edge of the wooden seat as if ready to run at any given moment.

“I suppose you will be wondering why I asked you here.” Harry nodded, though he couldn’t say that he particularly cared.

“Yes, sir.”

Dumbledore sat back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he sat staring at the desk; it was very apparent that he had not wanted to have to wait to have this talk with Harry, but the memory loss factor had forced it. “First of all, Harry, I am sorry about Sirius. It was terrible that you were allowed so little time to get to know him.” There was silence for a moment, as Harry had merely nodded his acceptance, not for what had happened, but for the apology. “I must say, though, that you should have sought help from a member of the Order before you left the school.”

Harry’s eyes flashed as he took them off of the ground where they had been aimed up until now, looking at the headmaster skeptically. “Who was there to find?”

“Well, Professor Sna”“

“I told Snape what had happened and he just walked away; he didn’t even give any signs that he understood a word I said,” he said sullenly, finding his mind drifting back to how Dumbledore could possibly trust the Potions Master.

Smiling benignly, the old wizard replied, “How could he have responded with Dolores Umbridge in the room?” This, unfortunately, had Harry stumped, not sure how to answer, or if there was even one at all.

“I’m sure he could have found a way if he wanted to,” Harry grumbled, staring at the corner of the desk. Dumbledore didn’t answer that, letting the pause draw on for a few more moments before speaking.

“Harry, do you know what Voldemort was looking for at the Ministry?”

Harry shrugged before nodding. “Some prophecy is what Lucius Malfoy said,” he murmured, not really worried about what it was. Dumbledore, on the other hand, seemed to find it a subject of great discussion.

“Yes, it is. Did he tell you what it said?”

“…Why Voldemort attacked me as a baby and why I have this,” he answered, gesturing to his scar as the headmaster nodded.

“Very well. Harry, there are a few things that you need to know, but I will need you to keep an open mind. Can you do that?”

Harry looked up at him with a slight crease in his forehead, nodded. Why wouldn’t he be able to?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was early evening before Harry trudged wearily down the stairs from Dumbledore’s study and began to walk in the direction of the Hospital Wing slowly, where he knew the Weasley’s would be waiting for him. He would be taking a Portkey to the Burrow with the rest of them, but he would only be staying the night, as the Advance Guard would be taking him to Privet Drive the next day. Dumbledore had been adamant that he go back at least until his birthday, which was only a week away; it would ensure his safety, as well as the Dursleys’, for the next year before he went back the following summer. It was definitely not his first choice for what to do with the rest of the summer, but he was glad that at least he had no summer assignments to complete on top of it. After the O.W.L.’s, and half of the professors being driven out of the school, the former fifth years were not expected to complete any homework. That would be a good thing for Harry, as he now had enough on his mind to worry about besides school.

Neither can live while the other survives. It wasn’t bad enough that he would never be able to live a normal life, free of emotional complications, fame, and trouble, but the thought that he might only have a limited life already… It was hard to think about voluntarily, much less forcibly. It kept repeating itself in his head as he walked, haunting and taunting him with thoughts that he might never get a normal life, or any life at all. After all, Voldemort was a thousand times more powerful than he, Harry, who hadn’t even passed through school yet. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord found him, and when that time came, it would be over; the Order and Dumbledore wouldn’t be able to protect him forever. He had resorted himself to this, as much as he didn’t want to. He wasn’t going to let anyone else die for him.

Dumbledore hadn’t even been able to explain in depth what the Veil was, nor the locked room that contained a power that he apparently carried in such abundance that Voldemort stood no chance against it. That, however, was impossible in Harry’s mind: how could he beat one of the most powerful wizards on Earth with nothing but love? Sure, his mother had been able to save him that way, but how many times could that actually happen? It wasn’t a chance that he was willing to take, and the thought occurred to him that giving up now might be the best chance; at least then no one would get hurt again because of him.

Even this train of thought didn’t end well: if he gave up and allowed Voldemort to kill him, who would be standing between him and taking over the world? Neville was the other boy the Prophecy mentioned, but the Dark Lord had chosen Harry, and Harry it would be who lived or died. The Boy-Who-Lived-And-Then-Died… It has a nice ring to it, he sighed sardonically to himself, kicking a pebble that lay on the floor, most likely having come off of a shoe when term was still in session.

This line of thought was doing nothing but making him feel worse, more guilty. By this point, he didn’t want to go to the Burrow anymore: they were safer there without him around, and he didn’t want anything to happen to the Weasleys, especially after all they had done for him. He didn’t think he would be able to bear it if Ron or Ginny died, if Mr. and Mrs. Weasley turned on him as he knew they most likely would, blaming him for the loss of their biological children. How much longer could he be considered their surrogate son if one of their real children was killed and it was all his fault? Nervously, he rubbed his left forearm unconsciously as he kept walking, stewing in his own juices for a bit.

Shaking his head as if that would knock all of the thoughts out of it, he sighed to himself and kept walking, realising that he was getting close to the Hospital Wing and knowing that if he were to change his mind about accompanying the Weasleys to their home, now was his final chance. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, though, and strode into the Wing with his hands in his jean pockets, watching Mrs. Weasley, Remus, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny talking casually for a moment before approaching them.

“That took a while, mate, everything alright?” Ron asked, nodding to him; he had left hours ago to meet with Dumbledore. Harry simply nodded.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Ron didn’t look like he believed that and opened his mouth to say something else, but Harry saw Ginny’s foot appear out of nowhere and stomp on his inconspicuously, forcing Ron to slam his mouth shut to not cry out. Surprisingly, Harry found himself trying not to smirk at the sight as Mrs. Weasley turned to Hermione.

“Alright, dear, your Portkey will be leaving in just a moment. We’ll see you the last week of summer,” she said, holding out a dull quill for Hermione to take. The latter did so before turning and saying goodbye to everyone, hugging Harry tighter than the rest with a whispered “I’m sorry again,” in his ear before she stepped away and she disappeared. The three Weasleys gathered together as their mother instructed them on what they were to do when they arrived at the Burrow, both of the younger ones seeming rather put out. Harry didn’t have time to hear what was being said, though, as he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Remus standing next to him.

“Are you alright, Harry?” he asked curiously, having noticed that the latter had seemed a bit preoccupied when he had come in.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He took in Lupin’s skeptical expression with exasperation, wishing that everyone would leave him alone before remembering that they were only trying to help. Admittedly, this didn’t help much.

“I’ll be taking you to your aunt and uncle’s tomorrow, along with Moody and Tonks; we wanted to have a bit of a talk to them before we left you there.” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“About what?”

“Oh, nothing in particular,” Remus responded, waving off the question as Harry saw a bit of Marauder mischief sparkle in his eyes for a moment. Grinning, a foreign feeling by now, Harry decided that maybe he didn’t want to know and turned back to the Weasleys, who were just getting ready to grab hold of the purple stuffed bear that would be the Portkey. Harry and Remus took hold as well, and it was a moment before the five of them were whisked away to the Burrow.

It was exactly as Harry remembered as he looked around the cluttered kitchen. He hadn’t been here in nearly two years now, as he reflected, and supposed that nothing about the Weasleys would ever really change. This, once again, grated on his conscience a bit as Mrs. Weasley’s voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“Alright, you three: bed. We’ll have to be up early tomorrow.” The teenagers nodded and went to the stairs, going up and saying goodnight to Ginny as she broke off to go to her own room. Harry and Ron continued up to Ron’s room, which was exactly as it had been two years previous, albeit a bit dustier, suggesting to Harry that they had been staying at Grimmauld Place for the last month or so that he had been gone: another thing for him to feel responsible for. He didn’t dwell on it, though, as he and Ron settled inside and changed, retiring for the evening. Even with all of the sleep Harry had gotten over the last couple of days, he found that he was exhausted and drifted off to sleep as soon as his head touched the pillow of his camp bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning came much faster than anyone had really cared for, and before he knew it, Harry was standing in front of the fireplace in the kitchen of the Burrow with Remus, who had also stayed the night in the house. Mrs. Weasley allowed her children to say goodbye to Harry first, as they were his friends, before wrapping him in her trademark rib-crushing hug. After a few moments of holding his breath, Harry said goodbye to her as well and gave Ron a final wave as Ginny did something that he didn’t expect at all, kissing his cheek and blushing.

“See you in a week, Harry,” she said as she nearly sprinted to the stairs and disappeared. Harry watched her with his eyes wide, snapping out of his stupor when Remus cleared his throat, gesturing to the fireplace. Harry nodded, taking some Floo powder and Flooing to Mrs. Figg’s house.

He stumbled out of the fireplace a moment later, immediately smelling the familiar smell of Mrs. Figg’s house, not very appetising. Stepping out of the way for Remus to come through, he waited a moment as the other man brushed himself off. The elderly woman was apparently not home, so the two went to the door and opened it a crack, Remus looking out with his hand in his pocket before letting Harry out when the coast was clear.

They strode down the street at a quicker pace than was quite normal, passing a young blonde woman on the corner as they were coming into Privet Drive.

“Wotcher, Harry,” Tonks whispered with a wink as she sat down on a bench that Harry was sure hadn’t been there the last time he had been here.

Remus and Harry continued down the street until number four came into view, a mangled man standing outside on the walk. A group of children, most likely only in primary school, walked by on the other side of the street, staring at Mad-Eye Moody’s magical eye before taking off at a run, seemingly afraid that he would suddenly lash out at them for no reason. The man didn’t pay them any mind, turning to Harry and Remus as they approached.

“Did you have to stand in the open, Mad-Eye?” Remus asked, shaking his head.

“Only just got here, Lupin,” Moody growled, “so don’t worry about it.” He nodded to Harry before adding, “We all ready?” Remus nodded, so Moody grunted and the three made their way up the walk to number four. Remus reached out and rang the bell, waiting for the Dursleys to answer. It was no surprise to Harry that his aunt was the one to come first, as his uncle was no doubt at work and Dudley would be out with his gang.

Aunt Petunia answered the door, looking like a fish out of water as she gaped at the motley crew, her eyes bulging as Moody nodded inside and started moving forward. Of course, she moved out of the way to avoid getting anywhere near Moody and waited for the three of them to come inside, watching Remus close the door behind them. “Mrs. Dursley,” he greeted her, a cold edge to his voice that Harry had not yet heard. His aunt was still speechless, though, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. “We dropped Harry’s things off a month ago and told you that we would be delivering him, didn’t we?”

Finally, Aunt Petunia seemed to find her voice and nodded, replying, “Yes, you did,” tersely. “They should be up in his room.” Moody nodded.

“Good. Then we have just one more matter to take care of and we will take our leave,” Remus said pleasantly, the coldness still in his eyes. Aunt Petunia looked relatively frightened as Moody spoke next in his usual growl.

“We don’t like how you treat him around here,” he said, both his normal and magical eye focused on her.

Sputtering for a moment, Aunt Petunia was able to get out, “W-well, that is none of your business.” Remus took a step closer to her and she took two back, eyeing him in a cautious manner as he spoke next.

“It actually is our business, and we are just giving you a warning. We aren’t the ones who thought of this, just enforcing it,” he said in the same false-pleasant tone as Moody nodded, turning to Harry.

“We’ll be wanting a letter if anything’s not right, Potter.” Harry nodded, sure that he would just stay in his room for the next week anyway, not caring what the Dursleys did or did not do.

Seeing his nod, Remus backed away from Aunt Petunia and looked at the boy, clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ll be going then, Harry. Take care of yourself and be careful; there will be Order members around if you need them.” Harry nodded and thanked both wizards, watching as they left, slamming the door behind them. Aunt Petunia didn’t stay in the hall a moment longer, disappearing into the kitchen and shutting the door behind her, leaving Harry to his own devices now. It was the way he liked it in this house, but for some reason, it was different this time: it was a chance to think about what was to come, and that was the last thing he wanted right now.

Harry went up to his room, opening the door to see that it was just as he had left it the year before when the Advance Guard had surprised him by coming to get him in the evening, the Dursleys gone to receive and award that never existed. Chuckling to himself at Tonks’ idea, he went into the room and looked around. His trunk was at the foot of his bed, which was still covered in the threadbare cover he had had before. All in all, the only thing that would be different about being here this year was that, for the first time in two summers, Sirius would not be sending him any messages of consoling sympathy, entertaining stories, or the like. For the first time since he had first been away from his friends after starting Hogwarts, he was lonely at Privet Drive. It was for the best, though, as the people he loved were safer when he wasn’t around anyway. Hopefully.

Sighing, he looked over at the owl cage on the desk by the window, walking over to it and bending down to look at his snowy white owl, who was currently sleeping behind the metal bars. Harry stroked Hedwig’s head gently, listening to her sound of delight at seeing him again when she woke up at his touch, looking out of the window over the street.

“Yeah, Hedwig: I’m back.”

~*~End Part 1~*~






And so there you have the end of Cruciatus Cursed, everyone. I hope you guys enjoyed this installment over the last year and, even more, I hope you will like the sequels.

As for dedications, it is the last chapter so of course there are the traditional few:
For nuw255: thank you so much for the banner for the story, as well as reviewing even when you are so busy. I appreciate it, as well as all of the plot advice and pushing for a certain rat to get exterminated.
To Tagidi Riva: thank you so much for the help with getting motivated to write (especially after a very long hiatus), amazing ideas, and definitely all of the support that you have shown; you help more than you will ever know.
For abbs866: if it weren’t for the fact that I usually know I am going to get a good (and very opinionated) review from you for each chapter, it would be a bit less fun to keep writing; thanks for that.
To Mysterious Fayth: thanks for reading and all of the compliments that you have given me, though I am not sure that they were deserved. Also, thanks for the pushing (and a bit of shoving) to get a move on with the next chapters every time; you’re another one that doesn’t know how much you help.
And finally, to weasleybabe24: without whom I have said before I wouldn’t be here. Seriously. Thanks for the motivation, and I would like to see you call me a bitter person for writing a story like this like you did in the first chapter!
To all of these people, thanks for all of the help, support, and motivation to keep going with this story, as well as to all of my readers, as it would not be nearly as satisfying if it weren’t for you.

I hope you will all be back for the sequel, soon to be in queue.
~Miss Moony =)