The Four Swords of Hogwarts

Chapter 31: A Scar is Just a Scar

When the pulling stopped, Harry was staring up at Hogwarts, telling him what part of his hidden pain this was. This was the pain the wizarding world had caused him when it was supposed to be his place to belong, his home. This was the world where he'd been so hurt, but forced to carry on through his pain and trauma and loss as though it hadn't happened or hadn't affected him. He knew instantly who would be there, representing that pain, before even spotting the two figures standing by the tree at the edge of the Black Lake. His eyes immediately teared up as he gazed at the backs of Cedric and Sirius.

Blinking back the tears and sighing, Harry crossed the grounds to his greatest losses since he was a year old. They turned to him as he grew close and his breathing hitched at their smiles.

"Hi, Harry," Cedric said.

"Hey, kid," Sirius said. "I think it's time we talked, yeah?"

Harry knew he should say yes, that he should work through this the way he did his childhood trauma, but staring at them, he couldn't. He shook his head, tears falling down his cheeks again as his heart tried to beat out of his chest. He closed his eyes and focused on escaping, feeling himself fly through his mind, back to his deep center of engrained pain. He drew in a shuddering sob and opened his eyes again, staring at the pulsing blue light. He wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to face that pain.

"That's it, I'm ending this," Severus said.

"No!" Harry said, unintentionally loudly. He swiped at the tears on his face. "No, I'm okay."

"You are not. You are clearly hurt," Severus protested.

"Not physically," Harry said. "It's just memories. I'm fine. I have to do this."

He was sure he could feel his father's worry and disapproval.

"Very well," Severus said. "We do not have much time left."

"I'll do what I can," Harry said, looking at the red light he now knew was his scar. He took a deep breath and touched the light, allowing himself to be pulled to where Dumbledore had embedded himself fifteen years earlier.

This part of himself, part of his pain, was completely different to the others he had just experienced. Rather than facing himself or those he'd lost, he was in a web of hard, sharp magic. The space was black and seemingly infinite, no ends in sight. In front of him was a huge ball of jagged, red threads twisted tightly together with strings like bolts of electricity weaving around like a violent spiderweb. The core pulsed every few seconds, sending waves through the web and pain through him as they circled him.

He gasped at the pain, shaking and holding back whimpers as long as possible as the pulsating agony gave him no reprieve. The pain compounded, becoming worse and worse as the jagged ball throbbed harder, until he was sent to his knees with a whimper.

"Dad..." he moaned. "Dad, it...it hurts."

He gazed around at the web that was Dumbledore's magic deep inside him, woven into his very being. He'd known for months now, but to see it, to see how much of a hold Dumbledore had on him, the depth of the man's control...it was sickening. The magic reverberated around him, making him cry out as it felt like the Cruciatus tore through his body over and over again.

"Dad!" he cried out as loudly as possible, which wasn't very as the pain continued to steal his breath.

He wanted out, he wanted it to stop, he wanted there to be an end. He didn't want there to be any more pain; there'd been too much. He just wanted peace. He just wanted his father, the love and safety he brought.

"Dad!" he yelled desperately.

He sucked in a harsh breath as he rose up out of himself, his eyes popping open. He flew up on the sofa, gasping for air and shuddering as it felt like the pain was still echoing in his body. Tears poured down his face. He flinched as hands grasped his upper arms, but they refused to let him go.