Chapter 619: Venting
Chapter 619: Venting
Harry hurried away, afraid that if he stayed any longer, he might do something strange. He didn’t want Ron’s last memory of him to be of him sobbing and bawling, tears and snot streaming down his face.
"Professor", he panted, his heart pounding.
Felix nodded, his face expressionless. "Best to wait until everyone’s gone. We don’t want to draw attention."
Harry watched as Ron left with the crowd, giving them a puzzled look before he disappeared. As the lively, festive atmosphere of the Great Hall faded, Harry’s mood inevitably sank with the emptiness and silence.
A few more minutes passed before Felix led Harry away.
Harry followed in a daze, the few minutes allowing the emotions he had been suppressing all summer to resurface, surging through his mind. He felt like a drowning person, slowly losing hope of survival. As they passed through the dimly lit entrance hall, heading toward the spiral staircase, Harry wondered why they weren’t going outside.
Then, he suddenly felt a sharp gaze from behind, and he turned his head sharply to see a vague, large dark shadow standing motionless at the dark underground staircase, staring at him.
Harry tripped on a step, and when he looked up again, the shadow was gone. His hands and feet turned cold.
Felix stopped, looking at the empty staircase thoughtfully.
"Severus."
"Th-that was Snape?" Harry asked, still shaken.
"It’s Professor Snape... perhaps he was worried", Felix said uncertainly. As they continued up the stairs, Harry seemed distracted, his mind a tangle of complex thoughts. There was something he hadn’t said: he had inexplicably thought of Ron’s uncle, Billys.
Billys had died within twenty-four hours of seeing an omen—a large black dog.
But omens weren’t limited to that, Harry thought bitterly. Thanks to Trelawney, he had learned about many such omens in class. This had happened to him in his third year, when he was terrified by Sirius’s animagus form. Trelawney’s Divination class had certainly contributed to his fears.
At least he didn’t have to take her class this year.
But then Harry’s mood sank. Would he even be able to sit calmly in class tomorrow? It seemed like a luxury, unless he ended up like Moaning Myrtle, a ghost... he wondered if Dudley would be able to see him then.
"Keep up."
Harry realized he had fallen half a flight behind Professor Hup and quickened his pace.
"Where are we going, Professor?" Harry asked, trying to distract himself from his wandering thoughts.
"Classroom Seven."
"Classroom Seven?"
"Where else did you think we were going?" Felix replied casually.
"I thought... maybe a hidden cave or a dungeon."
"Ah, you guessed it, didn’t you?" Felix smiled as they stopped at the door to Classroom Seven. "Dumbledore should already be inside." When Harry saw Professor Hup’s fingertips glow with intricate runic script, he was amazed.
"Necessary precautions", Felix said, his smile widening. "We could use a key, but I find this method more convenient."
"Do the students have to do this too?" Harry asked, doubting anyone but Hermione could manage it.
"Hmm, didn’t Dumbledore mention it at the feast? Classroom Seven is not open to students this year. Some of its functions have been moved to the adjacent room... come on." The door opened, and Felix held it wide for Harry to enter.
Harry walked in silently.
"Is Voldemort kept here?" he asked suddenly.
"Correct, we’ve arrived."
Harry expected to see a ring or a cage, with Dumbledore and Professor Hup as the only spectators watching him and Voldemort battle. Instead, Dumbledore stood steadily in front of a small two-story building, his hands folded in front of his beard, humming a cheerful tune, still caught up in the festive atmosphere of the feast.
"Harry", Dumbledore said lightly, "I know you have many questions, but I hope you can remain calm and refrain from shouting."
He moved aside to let Harry see.
Harry’s eyes widened, a scream catching in his throat. He saw Voldemort, his limbs hanging limply, suspended in mid-air, swallowed by a massive, silver, transparent ouroboros that was slowly rotating.
The room was filled with colorful lights that dreamily merged into the ouroboros’s body.
"This is—"
"Voldemort’s personal prison. He is completely trapped, from magic to body, including his mind", Felix said succinctly. "Feel it."
Harry didn’t quite understand, but he tightened his grip on his wand.
Felix and Dumbledore exchanged a glance. Dumbledore said softly, "No, Harry, you don’t need your wand—use your heart to feel."
Harry’s heart skipped a beat; he had noticed something unusual. “I... uh,” he looked uncertainly at the two men, “I seem to be able to sense that snake...”
Felix smiled.
“Because it contains your thoughts. This Ouroboros Patronus—let's call it that for now—is actually composed of multiple Patronus-like magics. You've read the materials I gave you, right? You should understand, shouldn't you?”
Harry thought carefully.
“A Patronus requires positive emotions, but you can use other emotions, as you demonstrated at the club... But how can they come together?”
Harry imagined several—perhaps even a dozen—different Patronuses merging. For the first time, he felt his brain wasn't enough for the task. He wondered if the book on Patronuses he had written was already outdated.
“It’s difficult,” Felix sighed, “some things aren’t really about magic. Those little guys don’t bow to anyone—no wonder, they are all products of intense emotions. I have to find them a common goal, a leader.”
Harry was taken aback. He asked tentatively, “You mean... me?”
“Your Patronus,” Felix corrected. “How should I put it? Emotions don’t lie, especially to oneself. Despite my deep-seated hatred for Voldemort, it’s still hard to fully muster intense emotions when facing him...”
Harry understood completely.
“...So that’s why you collected my Patronus during the last part of the school year?”
“Right, but they’re all used up.”
“Used up?” Harry repeated hoarsely, his voice trembling. “So you called me here for this— to replenish emotional energy? Only I can do it, right... Let me think, because he killed my parents and tried to kill me, but he only left a scar on my forehead. Oh, I almost forgot, the scar is the most important—it contains a piece of Voldemort’s soul.”
Felix looked surprised and exchanged a glance with Dumbledore. The unspoken message was: Did you tell Harry?
“Did Severus tell you?” Dumbledore asked, his face losing its pleasant expression.
“I saw it myself, through his memories. Yes, I know everything,” Harry said, his voice rising involuntarily, “on the day you caught Voldemort. It seems Snape didn’t tell you, I guess he didn’t know how to handle it, just like me...”
“Who else have you told about this, Harry? This is important,” Dumbledore asked seriously.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone. I used the Occlumency you taught me,” Harry said, trembling but not out of fear. “I have only one question now: When do I die?”
“Harry—” Dumbledore started, struggling to speak.
“I understand. This is my mission, the whole reason I exist, right?” Harry shouted, the long-suppressed emotions finally finding an outlet, “But before that, I think I can still live for a while, because... because of my Patronus.”
“Expecto Patronum!” he yelled, raising his wand. A majestic stag burst forth from the tip, standing protectively in front of its master, radiating a bright light that shook the entire Room of Requirement.
Harry calmed down. He waved his wand, and the silver stag leaped through the air. The Ouroboros began to move, its tail curling inward. Its large, snake-like eyes gazed at the stag, sensing something it desired.
The silver Patronus charged recklessly into the Ouroboros’s mouth, merging with it.
The Ouroboros reared its head as if roaring. Two bright beams shot from its eyes, and its body began to thrash violently. The tip of its tail, where Voldemort was, also trembled. In the next moment, the Ouroboros swallowed Voldemort and its own tail again.
The Room of Requirement fell silent.
Harry spoke, his voice deathly calm:
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I’ve been calculating dates in my head, even on my birthday. I thought you might come for me on the first day of summer, but you didn’t. Then Professor Hup found me, but it was for Mr. Bashir. I thought the Order of the Phoenix bonfire would be a good opportunity, but none of you showed up... I kept thinking, maybe you were being merciful, letting me turn 16...”
“Did I ever have a glimmer of hope?”
“Maybe, but it faded away. Before I came here, I was already prepared. But it seems the time isn’t right yet. I just hope you make up your minds soon, because... because I might change my mind one day, and decide I don’t want to die. So, give me a specific date before I change my mind.”
Harry couldn’t continue. Through his wet eyes, he saw Dumbledore, tears streaming down his face.
(End of Chapter)
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