Harry Potter and the Serpent's Eye by Marauder9744
Chapter Notes: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far “ I’m glad you’re enjoying. I would also like to thank my beta, LucyLupin, who has helped enormously “ thanks, Lucy! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and, if you can, please leave a review, I would really appreciate it. Thanks again!
Chapter 11 - Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny travel to St. Mungo’s; Harry returns to Hogwarts after he overhears a conversation between Ron and Hermione.
“Fred’s been taken to St. Mungo’s?” Mrs. Weasley said, her face stark white. “Is he all right?”
Lupin shared a glance with Bill before he answered.
“We’re not sure, Molly. Arthur and Kingsley took him to St. Mungo’s before any of us could see how badly he had been hurt.”
“I need to see him,” Mrs. Weasley said, blinking back tears.
Lupin laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and nodded.
Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys followed Lupin quickly out of the kitchen and out the front door.
“Apparate to the alleyway beside St. Mungo’s, all right, Harry?” Lupin said quickly, before he Disapparated himself.
Harry concentrated hard on his destination and a moment later, he appeared in an alleyway, next to a large, decrepit, red brick building, along with the others.
“Let’s go around the front, come on, Mum,” said Bill, ushering Mrs. Weasley around the corner.
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny followed in the same direction, ultimately emerging next to the department store, Purge and Dowse, Ltd., that Harry knew to be St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
Lupin stepped forward and spoke to the mannequin through the window before he quickly guided everyone through the glass, keeping an eye out for any Muggles who may be watching them.
Harry stepped through the glass and into the familiar reception area of St. Mungo’s. Lupin and Bill led Mrs. Weasley past a long line of witches and wizards, who were waiting at the front desk - one wizard sporting a third arm that seemed to be growing out of his stomach - and towards the lift.
Ginny tried to follow them through, but Bill held his hand up.
“You lot take the next lift and go and wait in the tea room,” he said wearily, “the Healers won’t want everyone in the room all at once.”
“He is all right, though, isn’t he?” asked Ginny, a worried look in her eye.
“I don’t know, Ginny… but I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Bill replied, trying his best to sound convincing. “I’ll come and collect you soon.”
Ginny looked as if she wanted to say something, but she decided against it and stepped back so the lift doors could close.
“Oh, I hope Fred’s all right,” Hermione said nervously, while they waited for the next lift. She took one tear-filled look at Ginny before the two of them wrapped their arms around each other in a mournful embrace.
Hermione looked up at Harry and motioned for him to come over and comfort Ginny. In all truthfulness, Harry wasn’t very good at comforting people, but he did his best by taking Hermione’s place at Ginny’s side and holding her in a tight hug.
Ginny looked up at him, with tears in her eyes, and muttered a small “thanks” before burying her head in his shoulder and wiping her tears away on his shirt. She stayed there, however, only a second before straightening up, sniffling slightly, and saying confidently, “I’m fine. Let’s go “ there’s the lift.”
Harry gave her a small smile and the four of them walked into the lift, riding it until it finally reached the fifth floor (Visitor’s Tearoom and Hospital Shop). They exited the lift and made their way into the small tearoom, where they were alone except for a very beautiful blonde witch whom Harry was sure he had seen before.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, Harry nudged Ron and asked, “Isn’t that the girl from the Underground?”
It was quite clear, however, that mentioning this was a mistake.
“You’re right, Harry… that’s her,” whispered Ron, excitedly, gesturing to the woman with his head.
Harry looked over at her and she looked extremely uncomfortable and could obviously tell that Ron was talking about her.
“She’s bloody gorgeous,” said Ron, this time turning towards her and giving her a small wave and a rather strange looking smile. The blonde witch looked absolutely repulsed and exited the room rather quickly.
“Hmm, looks like she really likes you, Ron,” said Ginny sarcastically.
Ron scowled at Ginny while Hermione looking positively furious.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, finally noticing Hermione’s livid glare.
“Nothing,” she replied acidly, standing up and moving over to a nearby table filled with steaming mugs of tea.
“You idiot!” Ginny exclaimed to Ron once Hermione was out of earshot. “Honestly, what goes through your head sometimes?”
“I didn’t… she… not… I wasn’t,” he stuttered, finally giving up and folding his arms over his chest defensively.
Hermione came back with four cups of tea, throwing one at Ron, who nearly spilled it all over himself.
“Hey, what was that for?” cried Ron indignantly.
“You know perfectly well what that was for!” Hermione responded furiously, standing up and knocking her chair backwards.
Harry looked over at Ginny, who looked almost frightened as she now leant back in her seat.
He reached for a nearby table and pulled over a chessboard in an attempt to stop the argument.
“Anyone wanna play?”
Ron and Hermione each glared at Harry before turning back towards each other. By the looks on their faces, Harry was quite sure that hexes were about to be cast at any moment.
“So let me get this straight, Ron! You were absolutely livid when Viktor came to the wedding, which, by the way, had little to do with me, but it’s perfectly all right for you to… Bill?”
Harry whipped his head around to see Bill standing in the doorway with a bemused smile smeared across his scarred face.
“Is, umm, everything all right?”
Both Hermione and Ron lowered their heads slightly.
“Er, yes… yes, everything’s fine,” Hermione answered sheepishly.
Bill gave her a nod and a smile.
“Is Fred ok?” Ginny asked abruptly, her face drained of all colour.
To Harry’s relief, Bill continued to smile.
“He’s fine… everyone’s fine. Follow me and we can go see him.”
Ginny jumped up excitedly, her face glowing, and the five of them made their way out of the tea room.
They didn’t take the lift and, instead, walked down one flight of stairs, onto the Spell Damage ward of the St. Mungo’s.
“This way,” Bill said, directing them into a nearby room.
They entered the room to find Mrs. Weasley, George and Lupin each sitting in chairs around the bed where Fred lay, awake and smiling.
“Ah ha, and here I thought you lot had forgotten about me,” said Fred, grinning.
Harry could see that his forehead was heavily bandaged and his left arm was held close to his body in a sling.
“With any luck, I’ll have a scar like yours, Harry,” he joked, pointing to his forehead.
Harry and Ron laughed but Mrs. Weasley gave Fred a look that clearly meant, “Don’t joke about that.”
“What happened?” asked Ron, giving Fred a clap on the uninjured shoulder.
“Ah, Fred, the young ones never learn,” answered George, patronizingly. “You see little Ronnie, sometimes in war…”
“Oh, piss off.”
“Boys!” warned Mrs. Weasley, giving each of them an angry glare.
Ron, however, cast George an angry scowl the moment Mrs. Weasley had looked away.
“How did it happen, Fred?” Ginny asked seriously.
Fred took notice of the fear in Ginny’s voice and chose not to tease her as George had done with Ron.
“Flying debris from one of the prison walls hit me in the head,” he said heavily, indicating his bandaged forehead again. “Next thing I know, Kingsley is carrying me out of a ditch. I must’ve fallen in and broken my arm.”
“That’s awful,” whispered Hermione, her right hand held over her mouth.
“Not to worry, Hermione,” he replied, returning to his jocular self. “I’ll be back to looking gorgeous for you in no time at all, love.”
“Frederick Weasley!”
“Don’t call me that, Mum!”
Harry smiled to himself before he looked up at Lupin and motioned towards the empty hall wall outside of the room in an effort to ask some questions. Lupin seemed to pick up on this rather quickly as he stood up and walked towards the door as Harry did the same.
“Yes, Harry?” he said, once they were outside the room.
“What happened at Azkaban? Did all the prisoners escape? Did you catch any?”
Lupin’s response was short, yet it seemed to answer all of Harry’s questions.
“Azkaban is now under Voldemort’s control.”
* * *
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny spent only a little more of the evening with Fred, before Mrs. Weasley insisted that Lupin escort them back to Grimmauld Place for the night. Lupin gladly obliged and they were soon back at Headquarters.
“I’ll be upstairs, if you need me,” said Lupin, giving Harry a small smile and heading up the stairs, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny in the living room.
“I’m pretty tired too,” said Ginny, yawning. “But I do want to see Mum when they get back, so I think I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight.”
She winked at Harry, before he finally caught on.
“Oh, yes… I want to sleep with, er, I mean I want to see them when they get back too.”
“But… but everyone else should be back soon,” said Ron, now noticing the predicament Harry and Ginny were putting him in. “Why don’t you stay up for a while?”
But Harry said nothing and sat down on the sofa, while Ginny curled up comfortably next to him and both of them closed their eyes, pretending to fall asleep and leaving Ron and Hermione sitting uncomfortably together. Harry was somewhat curious to see how Ron and Hermione behaved alone but not as curious as he knew Ginny was.
He tried his best to stay awake, but Ginny’s warmth, coupled with how tired he was, made it very easy to drift into dreams. Within a minute, he felt that Ginny had given up and fallen asleep in his arms.
“I really hate those two,” Harry heard Ron say awkwardly after a moment or so.
This statement, however, was followed by a long, uncomfortable silence.
“Do you, er, want to play chess?” Ron asked, rather lamely.
Harry smiled, having tried to use chess only a few hours before to break the tension.
“I suppose so,” Hermione answered with a yawn. “I suspect your Mum and Dad should be back soon anyway.”
Harry didn’t open his eyes but from the sounds he was hearing, he could tell that they had gotten out the chessboard and began to play.
“Oh, my!” exclaimed Hermione after a few moments, as Harry heard sounds of chess pieces fighting. “That was a little unnecessary.”
“Checkmate,” Harry heard Ron say after a while.
“It’s not checkmate,” replied Hermione indignantly.
“Yes it is.”
Harry could hear Ron stand up and try to put the chessboard away.
“No, wait, this is not checkmate,” Hermione said again.
Harry heard nothing for a few minutes until, “Oh, yes, well… I suppose it is checkmate.”
Harry smiled to himself, appreciating just how hard it was to beat Ron at chess. There was another long silence before Ron spoke up again.
“Something to drink?” he asked, awkwardly.
“Sure,” replied Hermione, sleepily, “Just a glass of water, please.”
Harry heard Ron stand up, walk into the kitchen and then come back a short time later, obviously with a glass of water, because Hermione thanked him.
“Do you think you’ll miss Hogwarts?” Hermione asked after a minute, in an attempt to start a conversation.
“Of course I will,” Ron answered, “I’ve always kind of thought of Hogwarts as home, you know? Are you gonna miss it?”
“Yes… I mean, I always thought that I would be able to, well, learn more complex spells, become better educated and graduate from Hogwarts like any normal witch would,” she answered, almost wistfully. “But… I made the right choice.”
“Me too.”
They sat in silence for a moment until Hermione spoke again, this time, however, she sounded nervous and almost frightened.
“We have to tell him.”
Tell him? Tell who what?
“Hermione, we talked about this, we can’t tell him,” Ron answered very softly, so that even Harry, who was sitting only a few feet away, could hardly hear him.
“But he has to know.”
Harry was now listening intently and the hair on his arms was standing up on end. He was sure they were talking about him.
“It would kill him,” Ron said.
“But we should at least talk to him about it, Ron. Harry has to know… he has to know that there’s a possibility he could be a Horcrux.”
Harry lay on the sofa, holding Ginny, feeling as if an apple had lodged itself in his throat.
How could he be a Horcrux? Wouldn’t he feel if a seventh of Voldemort’s soul was inside of him? Ron and Hermione don’t know what they’re talking about, he thought to himself.
“But he might not be, Hermione. How do we know for sure?” Ron whispered urgently.
“We don’t know for sure, but you found that notebook at Regulus’ house yourself. It was filled with drawings and notes on how and why one would use living things as a Horcrux,” Hermione answered.
What other notebook? Harry thought.
“But that could mean anything… that could mean that Regulus thought You-Know-Who would use Nagini… or, or another animal as a Horcrux.”
“I know it does “ but we still have to tell Harry.”
Harry’s head was spinning… none of this made any sense at all.
But wait “ what if when Voldemort had come to kill Harry he hadn’t created his final Horcrux yet? Voldemort had not succeeded in killing Harry, obviously, but what if after Voldemort had killed Harry’s mother and father the Horcrux had somehow found its way inside of Harry?
But, still, wouldn’t I feel a part of Voldemort’s soul inside of me? He thought, as he lay there, his mind racing.
No matter what, Harry knew what he had to do. He had to talk to Dumbledore’s portrait… alone.
* * *
Harry lay motionless on the couch for a long while before he finally heard Ron’s familiar snores. He opened his eyes and saw Hermione asleep on the other sofa and Ron asleep on the floor. Harry leaned over, kissed Ginny on the cheek before he got up off the sofa, put on his cloak and slipped out the front door.
It was still dark out and a cold evening breeze whipped through the air.
Harry walked out onto the grass, made sure there were no spying Muggles, and concentrated firmly on his destination. A second later, Harry had Apparated in front of the familiar Hogwarts gates.
He pulled his cloak firmly around his shoulders and set off down the path, against the breeze, towards the castle.
Once he reached the gates flanked by winged boars, however, his progress was impeded by what seemed to be an invisible shield that prevented anything from passing through.
Well this complicates things, he thought to himself, frowning.
“Harry?” called a booming voice from Harry’s right.
In the pitch-black darkness, Harry could hardly see a thing; he quickly pulled his wand and muttered, “Lumos.”
“Harry? What are yeh doin’ with tha’?”
“Hagrid!” Harry exclaimed, sounding relieved and lowering his wand.
“It’s not safe fer yeh to be up here so late at night. What d’you need?”
“I need to speak to Dumbledore’s portrait,” Harry answered, trying hard not to give too much away.
“Why?” Hagrid asked, pulling out his umbrella and tapping a nearby rock three times.
Harry felt the barrier dissolve as he stepped forward and continued up the path.
“I just have to.”
“Harry, what’s a matter?” Hagrid asked again, sounding worried, taking two large steps to easily catch up with him.
Harry really did not want to talk about this. In truth, he really didn’t want to talk about anything. What he wanted to do, what he needed to do, was talk to Dumbledore.
“I… I just need to talk to Dumbledore,” he answered, once he and Hagrid reached the castle’s front doors.
Hagrid looked at Harry, his brow furrowed, but said nothing.
Hagrid opened the doors with a few more taps of his umbrella on the lock and held them open for Harry. They stepped into the Entrance Hall and Harry felt the warm, comforting feeling that Hogwarts gave him.
This place really is home, he thought.
“If yeh need me, well, I’ll be waitin’ righ’ here,” Hagrid answered with a small frown, and he sat down on a step off to the side.
Harry set off out of the Entrance Hall and had reached the marble staircase before he heard Hagrid’s voice again,
“Password’s ‘Chocolate Cauldron’.”
Harry nodded and then made his way up the marble staircase and around the corner until he reached more flights of stairs that led up to the different floors. He followed the familiar path up the stairs, finally emerging on the seventh floor. The castle was eerie without the usual sound of students bustling about, yet it seemed to be alive in itself, which only added to the sense of uneasiness that Harry felt.
Harry reached the stone gargoyle, which protected the Head’s Office, and offered the password, “Chocolate Cauldron.”
The gargoyle leapt aside and Harry rode the spiral staircase up to the Office’s door. He knocked once, but felt foolish the moment he had, for he knew there was no one inside.
Harry opened the door and walked into the room, which now looked much different from what he remembered. The spindle-legged tables and curious silver instruments were replaced by more elegant looking tables that held many books, which Harry could see were all on the subject of Transfiguration.
The golden perch remained in the same spot as it had been in Dumbledore’s day, yet Fawkes was nowhere to be found. Harry gazed around the room for a moment until the sound of Albus Dumbledore’s familiar voice stirred him.
“Ah, Harry, I wondered how long it would be before you would be paying me a visit.”
Harry turned his attention to Dumbledore’s portrait and immediately moved towards it.
“Professor, I’m sorry, I could have saved…” he began, but Dumbledore gave him a look and Harry stopped speaking.
“Harry, what’s done is done. It was my time to die and as I’ve told you once before, to the well-organised mind, death is merely the next great adventure. Now what seems to be troubling you?” he asked, gazing at Harry with his brilliant blue eyes.
“Where’s Fawkes?” Harry asked in response, delaying the question he needed to ask.
Dumbledore studied him for a moment before speaking.
“Alas, Harry, this portrait is not an omnipotent version of my former self. It is more like an imprint, left so that I may offer my services to the next Head of the School. I only know what others tell me, but to answer your question, from what Professor McGonagall has told me, no one has been able to find Fawkes since my burial. I can only surmise that because of my death, Fawkes has left and gone to live in the wild.”
Harry didn’t say anything. He merely stared at Dumbledore, preparing himself for what he was about to ask. Dumbledore did not look impatient; in fact, he simply gazed at Harry and waited.
“Was there something else, Harry?” he asked after a few moments.
“Yes, sir,” Harry began, his palms growing sweaty and his face stark white, “I overheard Ron and Hermione talking this evening, and they said something that… well I don’t know what to make of it.”
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, allowing Harry to continue at his on pace.
“You see, they said that… that they thought I was the one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes.”
Dumbledore’s expression did not change, but he waited a few moments before answering.
“Again, Harry, I don’t know much more about this than you do, but I will tell you that is an interesting thought, and I will give you my opinion,” he answered finally. “Firstly, I would say that I am quite sceptical. You see, Harry, while Voldemort has no way of feeling whether or not he has lost a Horcrux, he can feel whether or not he has created one… meaning, that he would know full well if you had, in fact, become one of his Horcruxes. Now, despite what the Prophecy reads, I do not think he would have continued his attempt to kill you if he knew that you were, or are, a Horcrux.”
Harry sat down in a chair nearby Dumbledore’s portrait but said nothing. So I’m not a Horcrux, he thought.
“It seems to me, Harry, that Nagini, as I told you, is a Horcrux. If, in fact, you were a Horcrux, then Voldemort would have seen no real threat in you. He would know that while you still lived, he had no chance of dying, which would, in turn, make him want to keep you alive, not kill you. Have you asked Mr. Weasley or Miss Granger how they came to this conclusion?”
“No, Professor,” Harry answered, sounding slightly more upbeat. “We did destroy the locket, though.”
Dumbledore smiled warmly at him and with a twinkle in his eye said,
“I had a strong feeling that you would start with the locket first.”
Harry told Dumbledore the story of Regulus Black and his return the cave.
“Very interesting,” Dumbledore said after listening to Harry’s story. “I wonder how far Regulus would have gotten had he had more time? It is also curious how the locket, ring and diary could all be destroyed at the place where they were found. It seems to me that Voldemort would have found this… somewhat poetic, don’t you think?”
Harry looked up at Dumbledore and noticed that he was not speaking to him as a student but as an equal.
“Or that Voldemort was almost daring someone to try and destroy his Horcruxes,” responded Harry.
“Precisely… now, Professor McGonagall also tells me that he has attained the Serpent’s Eye.”
Harry nodded in agreement.
“Do not worry about this, Harry. Concentrate on the Horcruxes and on destroying them. I doubt whether Voldemort will be capable of preparing the Draught of Life, even with Severus’ help.”
This was the first time that Dumbledore had mentioned Snape and Harry did not want to push him to talk about him.
“Is there anything else, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.
“No, Professor, thank you,” he answered as he looked out the window and saw the light of morning peering over the mountaintops. “I will ask Ron and Hermione why they think I’m a Horcrux, though.”
“Do that and… coincidentally, have they become an item yet?” Dumbledore asked as Harry’s faced reddened.
“Er, not yet, Professor,” he answered, smiling.
He had never heard Dumbledore ask anything like this before.
“Alas, one would think that after nearly seven years, they would have realised their feelings for one another,” Dumbledore said, smiling at Harry. “Keep them close, as well as young Miss Weasley, you need them as much as they need you, Harry. You have the ability to love, and that ability will come to good use before the end. Good luck, Harry.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Harry replied as he made his way out of the office and down the stone steps.
He was happier than he had been in a long while as he rushed down to the Great Hall and back to Hagrid.
He and Hagrid walked happily with each other back down the path towards Hogsmeade and when they passed the Hogwarts gates Hagrid turned and gave Harry a bone-crushing hug.
“Take care o’ yerself, Harry,” he said, finally releasing him and wiping away a tear from his eye.
“I will, and you too,” Harry replied.
He moved a little further away from Hagrid, concentrated hard on his destination and Disapparated with a small pop.
Harry appeared in front of Grimmauld Place just as dawn broke on the horizon.
He crept into the house to find Ron, Hermione and Ginny, thankfully, still asleep and he slid back into his position next to Ginny on the sofa.
“Did you sleep well?” Ginny asked, sleepily, without opening her eyes.
“I slept great,” he answered.
With a small smile and a kiss on her forehead, Harry fell asleep.