The Speaker and His Wraiths

Rememberance

Chapter 14

Empty Halls
Harry walked through the castle absently, not quite paying attention but not quite zoned out. He was headed somewhere, but he didn't know where that was yet.

His friends had left for holiday two days prior, and he wasn't sure what to do with himself without classes to distract him. When he was younger he always managed to find trouble, but he wasn't sure if that was just childish stupidity, or if it was Hogwarts in general, or if his luck really just was that bad. Either way, he wandered.

Things seemed to be all set. His Wraiths had their identities protected and their means of transportation, they'd prepared their Protego shield as well as they could, and there wasn't much else they could really do.

He realized the meeting was the first real, intentional and informed choice he had done in the Magical world. Previously things just happened to him and he needed to react quickly, and often without any thought, to simply survive. That or he decided to do something stupid without knowing all the facts. It wasn't an ideal environment, really.

Harry thought back to his previous years, frowning but also thoughtful.

He, Hermione, and Ron, had first bonded in the girl's bathroom during the Troll attack on Halloween night. Locking Hermione in the bathroom with the Troll to start off with was bad enough, and it hadn't really improved after that. Hermione had been frozen in terror, and Ron had to save them all when Harry nearly died for impulsively shoving his wand up the Troll's nose. A totally Muggle move, forgetting he had magic.

After that... their next real bonding was their journey down the trapdoor under Fluffy's feet. That was their first real challenge that they'd faced together. They weren't exactly prepared for it, but they were together and it was purposeful.

Pushing a door open, Harry realized he had walked to the room that contained Fluffy all those years ago on the No-Longer-Forbidden third floor corridor. The space looked smaller, Harry being four years older and much taller, and he smiled. Despite the conflicting emotion he felt, Harry slowly made his way into the room and felt nostalgia roll over him.

His little adventure with the Philosopher's Stone was the start of everything. It was where he met Lord Voldemort, it was when Dumbledore inserted himself as the paragon of good that rivaled Voldemort, and it was where he'd seeded the idea that it was Harry's duty and right to stop Voldemort. It was the beginning.

He sat on the floor, cross-legged, and brushed his fingertips lightly over the smooth stone where a trapdoor had once lain. Harry knew the little obstacle course had been made purely for the Stone, for Harry, and for Voldemort, but it was strange it had been wiped away so easily. Dumbledore had no more uses for it, and had most likely removed it without a thought. His school, his rules. It made Harry kind of sad.

The Devil's Snare incident was one that made him smile every time he thought of it.

'ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?!' Ron had yelled when Hermione panicked. She might have been the one to save them, but Ron was the one who'd kept his head.

It was funny how their trio worked together. Hermione was usually seen as the brains, but she had little to no on-the-fly-planning abilities. Harry made up for that with his impulsivity and knack for surviving, and Ron added to it by keeping them cautious and yet also spurting them to act when necessary. They complimented each other well, in Harry's opinion.

Pushing to his feet, Harry decided to go and visit another spot he had only ever been when he was in imminent danger. One that couldn't be so easily erased by the likes of Albus Dumbledore.

Now that he thought about it...Ginny hadn't said anything about her first year. She'd sat through his explanation of Tom Riddle and hadn't once spoken out about how he had nearly killed her. Tom Riddle, not Voldemort. The diary had his name on it in pretty letters, and she had thought they were friends for months. He had possessed her, used her, and then thrown her away in an attempt to revive himself. Ginny deserved to be angry about it, and yet she wasn't. Or, at least, she wasn't outwardly angry.

Harry hadn't thought about it before, but he felt bad about it. He'd never asked her if she was affected by it. He remembered the way her hands shook in her second year, the way her smile wasn't the same for a long while afterwards. Ginny was strong, and she had recovered, but Harry didn't know how she could ever agree to the plan with what she had gone through; with how she had been treated by him.

Reaching Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, Harry approached the sink and whispered 'Open.'

The Corridor of Secrets beyond the entrance was exactly as dim as he remembered.

As he walked towards the Chamber, Harry wondered what would have happened if he hadn't found Ginny in time. He also wondered what would've been different if he'd been just a little older.

Tom Riddle had rubbed his parents' deaths in his face, and Harry hadn't taken it well, for starters. Tom tried to kill Harry with his Basilisk, and Harry then killed it. Yet, Tom Riddle hadn't been angry. He'd seemed almost... pleased... that Harry survived.

'It makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter... you and me.'

Looking up, Harry still couldn't find a light source in the massive chamber. It was lit with green luminescence, yet no blazing torches sat on the walls and no spells seemed to be hanging in the air. It simply was.

The statue of Salazar Slytherin still stood at the far end, Harry not even as tall as his shins, and the supporting pillars were still spiraling upwards and towards the high ceilings. It was creepily spacious and vast, and the places Harry remembered he and Ginny and Tom were, now stood empty.

He kneeled where Ginny had been, once. Harry remembered it vividly. Her hair had splayed across the stone in a red curtain, framing pale and freckled stillness that had been so terrifying for a twelve year old to see. Two dozen steps away was the pillar Tom Riddle had been leaning against, waiting for Harry to show. He'd left the message of Ginny's capture specifically for him, hoping to have the chance to face The Great Harry Potter.

Harry left the chamber, shaking the memories away like dusty cobwebs and discarding the regrets like old candy wrappers.

It was strange to think that Hogwarts was supposed to be the safest place in Wizarding Britain, apart from Gringotts, and yet both of those places were no longer safe. Gringotts was broken into in 1991 when Quirrell tried to steal the Stone, only to find that Hagrid had withdrawn it first. Hogwarts... well, it was Hogwarts.

Cerberus' and trolls and Basilisks and dementors and werewolves and Voldemort. Triwizard Tournaments with mermaids and dragons and mazes, not to mention Hogwarts' inability to hire respectable or even safe Defense Against The Dark Arts teachers! It was a little ironic, to Harry.

A bit like begging the question: circular logic. Why is Hogwarts the safest place? Because Dumbledore says so. Why does Dumbledore say so? Because Hogwarts is perfectly safe.

Over and over, and no one seemed to question why.

It was because, yes, Voldemort is a great evil, yet Dumbledore was his own type of evil as well. Not the same kind; not mass murder and torture and malice, but quiet evil. The kind that manipulates people like puppets on strings and takes loyalty for payment. The kind that smiles and pats your head knowing he's raising you to die. The kind that makes you feel so safe you go home every summer to the people who treat you worse than they'd treat a spider in bedsheets.

Harry trailed his fingers along the walls of the castle, his footsteps echoing across the marble floors, and he wondered what his life might've been like if he hadn't ever been Harry Potter.

Would he have been raised in the Magical world? Would his parents be alive? Would he still be the same person or would he be completely different? Would he be in a different House? Would he have different friends?

It didn't really matter anyway, Harry decided as he climbed the steps towards his Common room.

Everything was set already, and all there was to do was move forward.