Harry chewed his lip as he stared at the huge painting of a knight, trying to see anything strange. He was convinced this was where the Sword of Gryffindor was hidden, but he didn’t know how to get to it.

“Are you sure this is it?” Ron asked behind him.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, it has to be.”

“Maybe it won’t work because the portrait isn’t moving anymore,” Hermione said.

“No, there’s a way,” Harry said quietly. He stepped up to the painting and, instinctively, he raised his hands. He frowned as he felt the air tingle on his palms and his magic swirled inside. He felt a pressure, the same build of magic he’d had before, but he grabbed hold of it this time. He pushed it up and out to his hands, and then to the painting, picturing his magic coating the portrait.

“Harry,” Hermione gasped and he opened his eyes. The painting of the knight shimmered and seemed to melt, leaving behind a blank canvas.

“How did you do that?” Ron asked.

Harry dropped his hands, breathing slightly heavy. It had taken a lot of power to remove the painting. He was about to tell Ron he didn’t know how he did it when the empty frame was filled as Godric Gryffindor and his lion from the core entered.

“You have a hidden power in you, young hero,” Gryffindor said, gazing down at Harry. “That was very powerful Concealment Magic you removed.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder at his friends who both shrugged. He wasn’t sure what the power was, but he had a feeling it was something else Dumbledore had hidden inside of him. He turned back to Gryffindor.

“Are you ready?” Gryffindor asked.

Harry was slightly surprised the man knew what he was after. “Yes,” he said firmly with a confidence he wasn’t sure he felt.

Gryffindor bowed his head and the portrait swung open. It revealed a doorway with an arch-like top and it was pitch black, preventing Harry from seeing anything.

“Harry, are you sure about this?” Hermione asked, sounding concerned.

Their attention was pulled to their bracelets where a short message had appeared.

DM in HW. SOS.

Harry felt panic twist his stomach as he wondered what had happened to the Slytherin. He looked at Ron and Hermione, torn. He needed to make sure Malfoy was okay, but he also needed to get Gryffindor’s sword.

They seemed to understand his dilemma.

“Get the sword,” Ron said. “We’ll go make sure Malfoy’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, knowing Ron still wasn’t thrilled about the Slytherin.

Ron nodded. “Go. You’re the only one that can do this.”

Harry sighed. Ron was right.

“Be careful,” Hermione said, her face full of worry.

“I will,” Harry said. “Go.”

With a final look of concern passed between the three of them, Ron and Hermione ran from the Tower and Harry turned back to the secret passage. He swallowed thickly and pulled his wand, gripping it tightly. He knew what the prophecy had said about Gryffindor’s test, but he still didn’t know what to expect. He was sure it was going to be harder than it sounded.

“Lumos,” he whispered and took a deep breath before stepping up into the passageway. The painting swung shut behind him, leaving him in the silent passage with just his wand light.

He stood where he was for a couple minutes, his breathing seeming to echo around him. There was nothing indicating where the passage would lead which did not help him calm his pounding heart.

He eventually forced himself to move, walking slowly down the stone tunnel. It declined slightly and turned a little to the left. As he rounded the small bend, he walked through another arched doorway, stepping into a huge, circular room. He jumped at the torches that came to life around the room, allowing him to see. He had a feeling the magic of the sword influenced the chamber it was in as he couldn’t imagine Dumbledore putting any kind of detail in a simple hiding place.

Veins of red and gold ran across the floor, all ending at the base of a lion sculpture in a crouched, roaring position. There was a stone platform on its back. On the walls were words engraved, also in red and gold. They were all the traits associated with the house of Gryffindor.

“Possible hero,” the voice of Gryffindor echoed in the room, making Harry jump again. “Step forward if you dare to attempt the trial of Godric Gryffindor.”

Harry hesitated, but slowly approached the lion statue. He gaped when a shadowy figure that was clearly Godric Gryffindor appeared on the opposite side of the lion.

“Do you hold the title of Hero of Hogwarts?” Gryffindor asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you intend to claim the Sword of Gryffindor?”

“Yes.”

“Defeat your fear, and prove you are worthy of my sword and the title of hero.”

Gryffindor disappeared and Harry watched the lion dais sink into the floor, leaving behind a red and gold disk in the center of the floor.

The room grew deafeningly silent and Harry gazed around, unsure what he was waiting for. The silence seemed to go on forever, making him hold his wand even tighter in anxious anticipation.

“Boy!”

Harry whipped around at the roar only to be viciously backhanded and thrown to the floor. He blinked to remove the dazed spots from his eyes and looked up at his uncle in terror. His lip stung where it had split from the hit.

“We never wanted you!” Vernon yelled, advancing on Harry. “No one will ever want you!”

Harry covered his face as his uncle threw a punch at him.

“Just a freak that gets people killed!” Vernon continued, throwing a kick that caught Harry painfully in the ribs, making him gasp. “Everyone hates you! Done nothing but bring misery to my life and family!”

“I’m sorry!” Harry cried out, yelping and groaning at the blow he took to the stomach.

“You don’t deserve anything!”

A kick to his shoulder and he yelled out when he felt something crack.

“Good for nothing, freak!”

His eyes widened as Vernon brought down the belt he suddenly held, the buckle tearing at his back. He screamed in pain, tears pouring down his face and his fear paralyzing him from retaliating. He’d never been able to fight back. He’d always been too scared, knowing what his uncle was capable of. He’d been terrified of being sent away, to be trapped somewhere completely alone.

“You should have died with your freak parents!”

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out.

“How did we produce such a weak child?”

Harry’s eyes flew open at the new voice. He rolled over onto his back despite his injuries and gazed up at his parents. He was shocked by the hateful glares they were sending him.

“We’re glad we’re dead,” James spat.

“Better than living with the shame of having you as a son,” Lily sneered.

Harry felt his breaths come in short gasps as he listened to his parents. It was what he’d always feared subconsciously, that his parents were ashamed of him and wouldn’t want him.

“I…I’m sorry, I tried,” Harry stuttered, agonized by his parents’ words.

“You’re a failure,” Lily said in disgust.

“And everyone is better off without you,” James said, his eyes flashing with hate.

“I know,” Harry whispered, shutting his eyes tight. When he opened them, he jumped at the snake-like Voldemort standing before him. It was even more frightening as Dumbledore’s face kept phasing in and out of Voldemort’s, his mind fighting to understand that his greatest enemy was actually the creation of his greatest mentor. Despite knowing the truth, the monster version of Riddle had haunted him for the last several years.

“I will see the light leave your eyes!” Voldemort cackled, bringing Harry back to the graveyard. All the fear that had filled him then returned full force and he was frozen all over again.

“You’re mine to control,” Dumbledore said when his face took over briefly. “You will be alone because I will it.”

“No, please,” Harry whimpered only to scream as the hybrid cast the Cruciatus. The white-hot pain tore through his nerves and he writhed on the floor, praying for it to end.

When it finally ended, he was left gasping and sobbing on the floor, his forehead pressed against the stone. His chest was heaving and tears had soaked the collar of his shirt from falling down his face and neck. He turned his head when he heard a footstep and looked up fearfully at Sirius. His chest restricted at the sight of his beloved godfather.

“Azkaban was preferable to being responsible for you,” Sirius said and Harry’s eyes closed at the jab of pain in his heart. “I never wanted you. Why do you think I never fought Dumbledore to have you live with me?”

Harry just cried, keeping his eyes shut and his forehead to the floor.

“What a relief it was when I went through that veil,” Sirius continued hatefully. “You deserve this, you deserve to be alone.”

“I know,” he whispered again.

He stayed crying against the stone for what seemed like forever. He eventually raised his head and frowned at what now surrounded him. His relatives, his parents, Sirius, Lupin, Ron and Hermione, the Voldemort-Dumbledore hybrid, Snape, and anyone else he had any kind of relationship with stood around him, circling the room. He slowly pushed himself up so he was sitting, twisting and turning to see everyone surrounding him.

“You’ll always be alone…forever,” they all said together, making the phrase boom and echo.

“I know,” he said.

“Alone…forever!” they all shouted.

He watched with wide eyes and crushing fear as, slowly, one by one, each person encircling him stepped backwards, disappearing into the dark.

“Wait, please,” Harry pleaded. “I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t leave me.”

None of them responded; they just continued walking into the dark. Finally, he was left with just his uncle, his longest fear. With a maniacal grin, Vernon also disappeared and Harry was alone.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, flicking his gaze around, hoping there was someone, anyone still with him. A harsh sob escaped him at the emptiness and he curled up, pulling his knees to his chest and crying into them.

He was alone. It was always going to end up this way. He was there to be hurt and abandoned. Everyone always left him; they always would.

Hogwarts had made a mistake. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t fight. He wasn’t brave or strong enough.

He raised his watery, red eyes when he felt the air around him ripple. Some of the figures had come back.

His parents…Sirius…Lupin…Ron…Hermione…Malfoy…Snape…Luna…Riddle…

He gazed at them, frowning, when each figure began to glow. The light engulfing them extended and hit him in the chest, causing a warmth to rise up inside of him. Suddenly he was seeing flashes before his eyes and he realized they were snippets of memories. He rose to his feet, looking at his wand as it vibrated in his hand.

“I’m not alone,” he mumbled and felt the warmth begin to push at his all-consuming fear. He looked up at those in front of him. “I’m not alone.”

The flashes of memories continued.

“My parents have always been with me. They’re a part of me,” he said and saw Lily and James smile at him. “You have all risked everything for me and that’s made you a part of me.”

Several others started smiling as well.

“None of you left me,” he said, feeling the warmth grow. “You were taken from me.” The warmth pulsed in his chest.

He swung around to face Dumbledore who had reappeared. The headmaster’s expression was hard and cold.

“You convinced me I was alone, made sure to take everything so I was afraid,” he said firmly. “But I know the truth now. I know who and what you are. You can’t convince me I’m alone anymore because, the truth is, I was never alone.”

The warmth consumed him, ridding his body of any residual fear. The glow from the others engulfed Dumbledore and he disappeared with a flash, the others fading. The torches came back to life around the room and the lion with its platform rose back out of the floor. Godric Gryffindor appeared on the other side of the statue again.

“You have accepted and defeated your fears,” Gryffindor said. “Come, Hero of Hogwarts. Claim your prize and take back what’s been lost.”

Gryffindor held his hands over the dais and a familiar sword materialized on the stone. Harry stepped closer, letting his eyes roam over the relic. It was just as he remembered. The shining silver steel blade with the intricately detailed hilt. The sparkling rubies on the ends of the hilt’s cross and the very top of the hilt. The name ‘Godric Gryffindor’ engraved in the blade in medieval lettering.

He met Gryffindor’s eyes again, hesitant.

“Bravery is not the absence of fear, Hero of Hogwarts,” Gryffindor said. “It is the ability to stand up and fight in spite of your fear.”

With the Founder’s final words echoing in his head, he slowly reached out and grasped the sword. The second he touched the sword, the strongest power he’d ever felt rushed through him and every lost memory took their rightful place, playing in front of his eyes.

Snape lowered eleven-year-old Harry’s shirt carefully and gently turned the quietly crying boy around to face him.

“Tell me what happened, Potter.”

Harry shook his head, sniffling.

“Why not?”

“I can’t,” Harry mumbled.

Snape sighed. “Let me help you.”

Harry looked at him with wide, startled eyes. “Why?”

“Because you deserve to be helped.”

*

Eleven-year-old Harry laughed as Fred and George shoved Ron into a pile of snow only to yelp when he was suddenly tackled to the ground. He looked up with his face covered in snow at Draco who was laughing in the snow beside him. He grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it in the blonde’s face, cutting off the laughter with chilly shock.

“Harry!” Draco yelled, stunned.

“Revenge!” Harry retorted only to yelp again when Draco climbed on top of him, trying to cover him in snow.

Laughing uproariously, they wrestled, trying to bury each other in the snow.

*

“You know, it’s okay to not be okay,” eleven-year-old Harry said to a crying Draco up in the Astronomy Tower.

The blonde Slytherin glared up at him, his eye bruised.

“I understand, you know,” Harry said.

“What do you know?” Draco spat.

“Exactly what you’re feeling.”

Draco’s glare softened though he was still tense.

“I never told anyone either,” Harry added. “And you don’t have to, but, it’s okay if you’re not.”  

*

Twelve-year-old Harry stared at the place where the snake had been in shock. Whispers were running through the students and everyone was giving him expressions mixed between anger, confusion, and fear. He looked at Lockhart who had a look of fear but also awe. Snape and Draco mostly just looked confused.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Justin Finch-Fletchley snapped, breaking the whispery silence.

Tears burning in his eyes and his stomach twisting with fear, Harry dashed off the platform and ran from the Great Hall. He ran outside, collapsing under the giant tree by the Black Lake.

He had no idea what had happened or why everyone seemed afraid of him. He’d been trying to make the snake stop! Why couldn’t they see that?

“Harry?”

He looked up at Draco who was hovering awkwardly, a strange expression on his face. He turned back to the lake.

“Go away,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry, about the snake,” Draco said. “I wasn’t thinking, but I couldn’t have known you were a Parselmouth.”

Harry looked back at him, frowning. “What?”

Draco stared back, clearly surprised. “You didn’t know? You can talk to snakes.”

“I did it once before,” Harry said. “It’s not common?”

Draco shook his head. “Pretty rare actually. What were you telling it?”

“Not to attack Justin,” Harry said. “But, I’m…I’m not crazy?”

Draco gave him a small smile, sat beside him, and put his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “No, you’re not crazy.”

*

“Harry.”

Thirteen-year-old Harry looked up as Snape hurried to his bed in the Hospital Wing, sitting on the edge. His eyes instantly filled with tears.

“I couldn’t stop them all,” Harry said. “I tried, but I couldn’t save us.”

“There were more than a dozen Dementors, child. Any adult would have struggled,” Snape said calmly. “Your abilities are astonishing.”

“But I couldn’t save us, couldn’t save Sirius,” Harry said, tears falling.

“But you did,” Snape said and Harry looked at him, confused. “You will understand in time.”  

*

Thirteen-year-old Harry and Draco sat on the grey sofa, heads together and laughing quietly.

“Boys, there better be no plotting happening in these rooms,” Snape said, coming up behind them.

They looked up at him sheepishly.

“We would never,” Draco said and Snape raised an eyebrow. “Swear.”

Snape just rolled his eyes, gave both their heads a playful shove, and walked into the kitchen, the boys laughing behind him.

*

Thirteen-year-old Harry pulled off his invisibility cloak as the door opened and looked up at Snape.

"It’s the middle of the night,” Snape said pointedly. His eyes found the cloak and he sighed. “That bloody cloak.”

Harry gave a lopsided grin, but it disappeared quickly. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

“What’s wrong with the Tower?”

“Nothing, I just…” Harry trailed off, looking down at the ground.

Snape sighed again, but reached out and tugged on Harry’s shoulder, pulling him into the rooms. “You know where it is.”

“Thank you,” Harry said quietly, smiling as the man’s fingers ran through his hair before they split apart to go to their separate rooms.

*

“You are the most reckless child I have ever met!” Snape yelled as Harry stared up at him with a slight glare. “What in Merlin’s name possessed you to taunt a bloody dragon?”

“I was trying to survive!” Harry shouted back. “I didn’t exactly have the options the others did!”

“You almost died, you foolish child!”

“Yeah, well, I’m probably going to!” Harry said, jumping to his feet, tears in his eyes. “At least then you won’t have to concern yourself with me anymore.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Snape said, a deep frown forming.

Harry swiped at the tears that fell down his cheeks angrily. “If I’m dead, everyone’s free.”

He was startled when he was roughly pulled to Snape’s chest, the man’s arms tight around him. After just a moment, he returned the hug, burying his face in the man’s robes.

“Don’t you dare give up,” Snape said, his voice low in Harry’s ear.

“I won’t,” Harry whispered.  

*

Harry turned when he heard steps behind him and found Draco standing in his dorm doorway. The Slytherin’s face was full of sadness and concern. He stared at his friend, willing his tears to stay back, but he failed.

He collapsed to his knees with a sob, dropping his head as the tears flowed, Cedric’s body falling before his eyes again and again. He flinched slightly when arms wrapped around him, a head leaning comfortingly against his. He brought his hands up to grasp Draco’s arm across his chest.

They said nothing.

Draco just hugged him as he sobbed.

*

Harry threw the glass at the fireplace, watching it shatter against the stone. He couldn’t stop thinking about Cedric and it was tearing him apart. He couldn’t breathe through the agony.

“It’s my fault!” he screamed, tears pouring down his face.

“No, it’s not,” Draco said. “You couldn’t have done anything.”

Harry chucked another glass. “I’m the one he wants! It’s my fault! I killed him!”

“Harry…” Draco said sadly, looking at Snape helplessly.

Harry suddenly fell to his knees, his shoulders shaking with sobs. “I’m a murderer.”

Snape swept over and knelt in front of Harry. He gently pulled Harry’s chin up to meet the grief-stricken green eyes. “You are no such thing.”

“Then what am I?”

“You are my son.”

Harry’s eyes flew open and he sucked in a gasping breath as though he hadn’t breathed during the entire experience. Still feeling the rush of power and emotions, he took a moment to regain his bearings. He was in agony from Vernon’s and Voldemort’s apparently very real torture. His magic was swirling excitedly inside, joined with a new, unknown power and the power of the sword. Tears were still streaking his face and his mind was whirling with his regained life.

He finally looked around, shocked to find he was in Hogwarts’ core, the four Founders gazing down at him.

He looked down at the sword still in his hand. It seemed to be vibrating, clearly reacting to finally being back with the core after so long. It was a drastically different feeling compared to when he’d held it back in second year.

The waxing and waning of glowing red drew his gaze to the strips of red in the walls and floor. He stepped up to the lion dais, this one on its hind legs and the podium held in front of its face on its front legs. Without really thinking, he laid Gryffindor’s sword across the stone.

The red veins burst with intense light and the ruby on the statue of Hogwarts illuminated brightly. The chamber pulsed with a power and happiness so strong he barely noticed the tingling on his right arm. Ignoring the blood staining his shirt from Vernon’s abuse, he rolled back his sleeve. A red band had appeared on top of the others, close to his elbow.

“Champion of Gryffindor,” Gryffindor said.

“And Hero of Hogwarts,” Hufflepuff said.

“You have proven yourself,” Slytherin said.

“Hogwarts thanks you,” Ravenclaw said.

Harry looked at each of them. “We’ll do this. We’ll stop him, I promise.”

“We trust in your word, Hero,” they all said together and bowed their heads to him.