Disclaimer: All belongs to J.K. Rowling. Not mine and no harm intended.
Author's Note: This is the revised and rewritten version of Sweet Sacrifice. Actually, it might as well be a different story all together. Sweet Sacrifice is essentially a story that wasn't well plotted nor well written. Can I say that about this version? I hope so...if not, I'm sure I can say it's at least better. After chapter 15th, I have no idea what to do, so I'll go by what you all want. Thank you to all of you who have been reading Sweet Sacrifice and I hope you like this version. I will not continue the other one and things I had then (a protective Blaise, an OOC Harry) will not happen here... or at least intentionally on the OOC Harry. If you want to read the original version, please go to my-tilly[at]livejournal (there is also a link at my profile).
The Way I Loved You
The Leaving Feast had just ended and Harry was already making his way towards the Gryffindor Common Room, following the Gryffindor pride as he, Hermione and Ron chatted about their summer plans.
Hermione and her parents were set to go touring all over eastern Europe and were planning to visit the concentration camps from World War II.
Ron looked at Hermione questioningly. "What are those?"
Hermione stopped walking, as did Harry and Ron. The rest of the Gryffindors kept walking down the hall.
"How can you not know what they are?! Are Wizards that ignorant to the rest of the world?!"
Ron flushed. "How the bloody hell is that my fault? We have our own problems to worry about you know!"
"Er…" Harry embarrassingly tried to move the conversation away from the subject. He hated when his best friends started screaming in the halls like this. You'd think they'd have SOME propriety. Apparently, his 'er' wasn't enough and Hermione and Ron kept on going.
"Didn't that war kill any wizards at all? I bet at least a handful were caught…"
Ron shrugged. "When dealing with muggle wars, Herm, we have magic to makes us immune to any of their problems that may strike our way. Excuse ME if Binns hasn't mentioned it in class…"
"BUT HE HAS!"
Ron looked at her like she was nutters. "And when the bloody hell have you ever seen me pay attention?!"
"Uh, I don't think this is his fault, Hermione." Harry cut in, "After all, I only know vaguely what it's about, and I was raised with muggles… we don't exactly cover that in the curriculum…"
Hermione glared at him. "Well I guess I HAVE to make it part of the curriculum then! I need to speak to Binns-- NO! Dumbledore about this!"
Harry coughed awkwardly and Ron rolled his eyes and said something about girls and PMS or something. Harry didn't have time to ask what PMS was, though. "Sure we will… now lets go to sleep… I am knackered!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry. "You may be mocking me now, Harry… but just watch, I WILL do something about this when we get back from break."
"I am not mocking you!" Ron had already started walking back to the common room, while Harry faced Hermione's wrath. Harry felt like strangling the red head. This is what he got for helping out a friend!
"I will do everything in my power to help you, okay? Just um, cool down. I don't think Ron was being condescending when he asked… he seemed to be genuinely curious and interested about the camps!"
It was early morning when they all had to wake up and pack up. Harry was trying not to gag as Ron cleaned out the underside of his bed. It wasn't so bad when all that was taken out were old towels and a few socks… then, Ron started finding leftovers of midnight snacks.
Ron frowned. "I don't even know what this is." He threw a tiny brown thing, that vaguely resembled a chewed up tootsie roll, and it landed across the room, near Neville's bed. On second thought…
"Ron, are there any mice under your bed?"
"Hm, there was a rat last week. Why?"
Harry felt like he was going to be sick, he closed his eyes and shuddered. "No reason. Just finish soon… we have only until 9."
"AHA!" Ron pulled out a magazine. "This is what I was looking for this whole time!"
Harry looked at his best friend questioningly. "What is it?
Ron's face became bright red. He then cleared his throat. "Erm, you know… something every teenage boy has…
Harry didn't seem to understand.
"Mate, why do you think I put up a tiny anti-elf ward for my side of the room so it doesn't get reported to McGonagall?"
Before Harry could respond, Collin Creevey ran into the room. There had been no need to knock since the room had been left ajar. The poor kid seemed to have ran a marathon. His face was flushed and he was out of breath.
"Dumbledore want to see you Harry!"
"Oh, er… right now?" Harry looked around his side of the room and noticed his lack of packing.
"Yes, yes! Right away!"
Harry stepped nervously into Dumbledore's office. His office never seemed so intimidating… but at the same time, it was a rare thing to even see Dumbledore somber faced. He noticed how, as he sat down, Dumbledore didn't offer him a lemon drop. He was ALWAYS offered a lemon drop.
"Sir…er…you asked to speak to me?" Harry nervously fidgeted in his seat, even though it was extremely comfortable. According to Hermione, when in an administrative setting, like Church, chairs were meant to be uncomfortable; as a way to try patience and as a form of intimidation. It really showed how Dumbledore wasn't a conventionalist; according to Hermione, anyway.
With a sigh Dumbledore began and Harry felt something was heavily amiss. Dumbledore never sighed; he smiled.
"We've discovered a way to destroy Voldemort." Harry frowned. Shouldn't he be stuffed with lemon drops then? Surely this was good news?
Dumbledore continued. "However, we need you to disappear while keeping you in sight and under training. We have found that the safest route is to try to convince the Wizarding World that you died. That way, we won't have to deal with someone hunting you down and we can give you a new identity and have you continue Hogwarts. During this time, we will also train you and it will go interrupted."
Harry blinked. "Um…"
"I want to know if you are on board with our plan, Harry." Dumbledore's blue eyes were looking at him with something of compassion and forgiveness. It seemed that Dumbledore didn't expect him to agree. "You won't be Harry Potter. You may not even be in Gryffindor… you can't let your friends know… and you might risk alienation during your entire seventh year."
Dumbledore kept going, listing off reasons why Harry should say no. "Your entire personal life might have to take a back seat… and you might be forced to commit to other things. You don't have to do this. This doesn't have to be you. We can find another way." But it may be too late.
Harry cleared his throat. "Would I have to go back to the Dursley's?"
Harry smiled. "Then I'm in."