Coming Darkness

Chapter Three

Face Your Fear

After a short nap Harry woke up. Realizing that he had already missed half of lunch, he decided to skip it and head to the library instead. Along the way he began thinking about Colin again. His immediate thoughts were that he should feel terrible. While part of him did feel a bit guilty, the rest of him did not. In fact, part of him felt downright pleased. For years now Colin had been annoying and embarrassing him and maybe now he wouldn't have to worry about blinding flashes of light everywhere he went. He knew he never used to think this way, but what was the point in trying to stop these thoughts? The potion was at work and the only way to stop thinking this way would be to stop the potion. Hence, the reason for his visit to the library; there had to be an antidote and he would find it if he had to spend more time in the library than Hermione did.

****************

Harry had been searching the library for a few days but he still had not found anything. Nevertheless, he refused to give up. Sure it was frustrating not even knowing the name of this mystery potion, but he had to keep searching, he would not give in to this evil potion. But for now, he would have to stop, his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson was about to start.

Harry walked into the classroom and took a seat next to Neville. He tried to ignore Ron and Hermione's hurt glances at him. In every class of the term Harry had been sitting anywhere but with them. Each time he walked into class they would look at him, hoping that he would finally sit with his two best friends, and each time he would sit as far away from them as he could.

Harry tried to focus his attention on his new teacher. Every year there was a new Defense teacher. The students all said that the job was cursed. It had been Harry's experience that usually the Defense teachers were the ones doing the curses as opposed to being cursed. With the exception of his third year teacher, Remus Lupin, every one of them had turned out to be bad. Harry found this slightly ironic since Lupin was a werewolf and therefore labeled a dark creature, yet he had been the only 'good' one.

Harry would just have to wait and see if the curse would hold. His new teacher certainly didn't look bad. She was very tall for a woman, well over two meters, had long, chestnut brown hair and skin as pale as porcelain. Harry would have suspected that she was part giant except for the fact that she was rather thin. Harry also couldn't help but notice that she was very young for a teacher.

"Good afternoon, class. I will be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You may call me Professor Connelly."

The teacher was obviously American and her accent only added to her charm in Harry's opinion. All the males in the classroom seemed to straighten up and pay very close attention as she continued speaking.

"This year we will be focusing on protection charms. Now, I'm sure you're all thinking, 'Isn't this what we're always learning in this class?' I will therefore go on to add 'protection from other witches and wizards and the spells they may use against you.' This will include some personal shielding spells. For those of you who are Muggle born Star Trek fans, think of this as a personal force field that will temporarily protect you from any spell another person may throw against you. Enemy spells will hit a slightly visible barrier and be reflected off. Also, we will learn how to temporarily protect yourself from one specific person. However, this spell is a bit more complicated and since it takes longer to perform, must be done before you expect to need it. These are just a few examples. Are there any questions in regard to what we will be doing for the rest of the year?"

Hermione raised her hand and Professor Connelly called on her.

"If we are learning how to defend against other wizards, then why are we scheduled to learn the Patronus Charm late this year?"

"Forgive me, I don't yet know all of your names."

"I'm Hermione Granger."

"That's a very good question Ms. Granger. For those of you who don't know, the Patronus Charm is a protection spell against dementors. It is very advanced magic and usually not covered until later, however, with recent times being what they are, the Headmaster felt it might be wise to get a head start on this particular spell."

"Now if there are no other questions, we will begin." Glancing around the classroom and seeing that there were no other questions she continued. "Since today is your first day, we won't be undertaking anything too strenuous. We will have a bit of a review and you will be facing boggarts," she indicated the large box in front of her desk.

"This will serve two purposes. The first, as I said, is a review from your third year. Professor Lupin has said that you are all capable of fighting off boggarts. I'm also hoping that the boggart will turn into a dementor for one of you as that will make it easier later in the year when we learn how to defend against them. Now everyone stand up and come to the center of the room."

As everyone rose from their seats Professor Connelly magicked the desks and chairs to the side of the room. "Now then, everyone form a circle. When I let out the boggart we'll go around the circle with each of you stepping forward to have your chance at him. I will remind you that it has been a while since you last faced a boggart and your fears may have changed. You may not all see what you saw in your third year." Professor Connelly waited a moment for the class to reflect upon what she had just said. "You first, Hermione."

Everyone formed a semicircle with Hermione and Ron at one end and Harry at the other. Hermione took a deep breath and stepped to the center of the circle. She looked at Professor Connelly and nodded.

The box was opened and out of it rolled a body. It landed face up at Hermione's feet. The face stared up at her out of empty emerald eyes. A bright red streak of blood stood out against the death whitened skin of the figure's forehead.

The class gasped and took a step back as they realized that the dead body was none other than Harry Potter. Harry began to feel sick as he looked down and saw what he would look like dead.

Someone, at least, was prepared for this. With her eyes glistening, Hermione raised her wand and said in a strong yet wavering voice, "Riddikulus!" Boggart Harry's eyes rolled around to look up at Hermione, grinned and said, "I've fallen and I can't get up." He then went on to prove this point by repeatedly trying to stand up and falling right back down.

"Next," shouted Professor Connelly.

Hermione retreated back to the circle. Ron stepped forward, glancing back and forth between her and Harry with an odd expression on his face as he did so.

Crack!

Boggart Harry, who had just fallen again, turned into Victor Krum. Ron stared at him with a disgusted look on his face. Boggart Krum stared intently at Ron and said in his halting english, "I have won, she is mine." From head to toe, Ron turned redder than his hair as the rest of the class began silently chuckling behind his back. Ron seemed to gather up his resolve. He raised his wand, and shouted, "Riddikulus!" Boggart Victor Krum was now wearing a frilly hot pink dress and had bows and ribbons in his hair. He cocked his hip, turned his head, began twirling a finger through his now long and curly hair and said in his normally gruff and toneless voice, "You can call me Vicky." Ron smirked at this and avoided Hermione's eyes as he returned to his place in the circle.

"Next" Crack! Vicky turned into a rat that chased his tail - a banshee who lost her voice - a severed hand that became caught in a mousetrap.

As they went around the circle it seemed as though only Hermione and Ron's greatest fear had changed in the two years that had passed. Boggart Snape changed wardrobe to a green dress and ugly vulture hat and finally it was Harry's turn.

Harry took a deep breath, prepared to shout riddikulus at his boggart dementor. He began walking forward towards the center of the semi circle - crack! - and stopped in mid-stride as the boggart turned into his deepest fear.

The rest of the class developed confused expressions on their faces as they looked curiously at the new shape the boggart had assumed. He didn't appear too frightening. The figure that stood before them resembled an older Harry. The main differences they noticed were the lack of glasses and scar and they noted the addition of the Head Boy badge pinned to the figure's robes. As far as they were concerned, the figure before them was that of a Harry who had finally attained perfection, one who had healed his scar, fixed his eyesight, and had earned one of the highest honors the school had to offer. Why would the great Harry Potter be frightened of this?

Harry, who was one of only two students to ever see him, recognized his boggart as Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort before he began his rise to power. Even to Harry, this Tom resembled himself more than he remembered. Boggart Tom stared intently at Harry and raised his wand. A wand that, compared to Harry's, was longer and lighter in color, but Harry knew contained a feather from the same phoenix. Boggart Tom said in a chilling voice, not at all like Harry's, "One day, this will happen, it is inevitable." Harry then noticed that boggart Tom was raising his wand, not at Harry, but at Ron and Hermione.

"NO!" Harry shouted and ran forward.

The class burst out laughing. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, was terrified of becoming Head Boy. At the loud laughter, the boggart had finally withstood all the laughter it could handle. Boggart Tom burst into a million wisps of smoke and was gone.

"Very good, class," said Professor Connelly. "Now Harry, I take it the boggart did not turn into what you had expected."

"No," Harry said quietly as he glanced at Ron and Hermione, "it wasn't."

"This was a good lesson to show that you all need to be aware of your worst fears. If you know what you fear then you can defeat it. If you can't realize it or admit it to yourself then your fears will defeat you. That's all for today, class. I will see you all next time."

********************

For the next week, Harry spent his time with his head buried in a potions book. He avoided Ron and Hermione during meal times by going to the library. This was about the only time he had there. Hermione had started coming to the library every day after dinner. Whether she was coming in hopes of catching Harry or studying he didn't know. Either reason was very possible. In class he sat with one of the other Gryffindors, usually Neville. Evenings were a little bit harder. Usually he would just sit at the opposite end of the common room. If one of them insisted on trying to talk to him he would just say he was busy and run off to his dorm or the library if Hermione didn't happen to be there. Even though he could tell this was hurting them, Harry was afraid he would hurt them even more by being close to them.

Harry was in the library one afternoon after a brief lunch, trying to find a potions book that he hadn't yet read. The library was empty as it usually was during lunch time. Finding an unfamiliar book, Harry sat down and was completely absorbed in it by the time Draco came in. He walked up behind Harry, bent down, and whispered in his ear, "You won't find it in there."

Harry jerked upright and looked behind him. A scowl formed on his face at seeing the reason for his current problems. "Find what?" he asked.

"An antidote, of course. I thought for sure you would give up after a week of searching. I suppose I underestimated your determination. Anyway, you've wasted enough of your time. The potion was a very powerful and very ancient type of magic. There was only one copy of it left in existence and of course my family owned that spellbook. So there is no point in looking here. You won't find any mention of it."

"You say there was only one copy? If you owned it, what happened to it?"

"Well let's just say that ancient parchment is really much tastier than you might expect."

Harry stared at Draco in shock, "You ate the list of ingredients!?"

Draco licked his lips and grinned at Harry. "Sorry Potter. You will just have to let the potion finish its work."

"You know Malfoy, I've been thinking on this and I'm not even sure I need an antidote. It's been more than a week and there haven't been any more bad side effects." At least, this was what Harry had been hoping.

"Don't worry about that. I suppose I should have explained to you how the potion works, and how long it lasts. You see, it works small installments, not overnight. So the fact that you haven't felt anything all week just means you're about due for another dose of nastiness. And you shouldn't worry about the potion wearing off either. It will last for as long as it needs to in order for you to become evil."

"And what exactly defines 'evil'?"

"It's different for different people. For some people it might be as insignificant as killing a busload of Muggle children, or knocking over a store at wandpoint. But for you, I think it will be more personal. In fact, I think the final step on your road to darkness will be killing your friends, Weasley and Granger." Draco stopped for a moment and Harry took this time to reflect.

For a week now he had been looking for any mention of Draco's nasty little potion. He didn't even know the name of the potion but still he had looked. He hadn't found mention of any potion powerful enough to alter a person's morals yet still he had looked. He hadn't even found any potions that were clear! Still he had remained hopeful because this was his only hope. Now after a week of holding onto hope, Malfoy was telling him that there was none and there never had been. He was going to end up killing his own friends and there was nothing he could do about it.

Well that did it! He was sick of Draco's smirking little arse. If he was becoming evil then it was all Draco's fault. Malfoy was damn well going to enjoy some of the havoc he was causing.

Draco, noticing the change in Harry, began a cautious retreat. "But if you want to keep looking, I will just leave you to it."

"You're not going anywhere Malfoy." Harry, not quite knowing what he was going to do, rose slowly from his seat and turned to face Draco. He could feel adrenaline fueled by his anger coursing through his veins. It felt as though power itself was being pumped through him instead of blood. At this moment he could and would do anything he wanted.

"Try and stop me," Draco turned and began walking quickly toward the exit.

"Don't you walk away from me!" This was said in a deathly calm and forceful voice, very uncharacteristic of Harry. Draco stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. As he did so, Harry picked up his bottle of ink and hurled it at Draco's heart. As the bottle tumbled, end over end, ink spilled out of it to leave a trail on the floor linking Harry and Draco. It struck Draco directly in the chest and then fell to shatter on the floor.

Draco, bent over a little in pain, reached up to clutch his chest where the bottle had struck. "Trying to stab me through the heart? You'll have to try a bit harder than that," Draco paused to smirk at Harry, "that is of course, if you're ready to do more than throw a little bottle of ink at me."

Harry grinned slowly at Draco and pulled out his wand. Draco's grin turned to a frown as Harry pointed his wand at a nearby shelf of particularly large books, the giant section of giant books about Giants.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Harry, keeping his wand pointed at the books, turned to stare at Draco. Harry raised his hand and the whole section of giant books lifted off the shelf. Swinging his arm down and around, the books came flying around to crash into Malfoy with bone-crushing force. Draco raised his arms in a futile gesture to protect his face and sank to his knees in the onslaught of massive books.

After all the books had fallen to the ground, Draco looked up from his position on the floor to see Harry standing in the exact same spot he had been in and a grim little smile on his face. "I suppose that answers the question of hot or cold," Draco said in a voice tinged with pain.

"What is going on here!? This is the library, not the Quidditch pitch. You need to be quiet in here." Madam Pince stopped to take in the situation. Draco, sensing an approaching audience, had begun howling in pain and grabbed his eye where one of the particularly large books had hit him and a bruise was already forming. He was kneeling on the ground, the shattered ink bottle impossible to see through the pile of giant books. Madam Pince did, however, notice the trail of ink that led as good as a pointed finger, back to the guilty party.

Harry lowered his eyes under Madam Pince's accusing stare. "Harry Potter?!" This was all the librarian could get out for a moment, her mouth was moving but no sound was coming out. "I'm shocked!" she said, managing to finally state the obvious. "Intentionally hurting another student!? You'll have detention for this and 50 points from Gryffindor." Her tone turned southing as she turned towards Draco, still moaning in pain. "Come now Mr. Malfoy, I'll escort you to the infirmary."

As Madame Pince led Draco out into the hallway, Harry could hear Draco saying, "I don't know what I could have done, he just went bonkers and attacked me."

He may have gone bonkers, but at that moment bonkers felt good.