Edge Of Gravity

“We could of never of accomplished your renewal if not for him. I only wish he could have…lived to see it.” The words saturated the space in the small hut with anguish far beyond anything that Harry had known before. Hermione sat slumped, eyes blinking rapidly to fight the fresh batch of tears. She had wanted to wait till Harry was stronger before telling him of their former headmaster’s passing. Protect his already battered body, from further distress.



Chasms of pain erupted themselves through Harry’s soul, licking at his heart till it lay raw within his chest. Dumbledore had died, he had not lived to protect the man who was more father then teacher. Dumbledore was the only man who would ever help him defeat the evil that had destroyed him.



In those moments, he felt the small nibbling of power threatening to cocoon his own power. A power which would of constrained him if it was not his own...but it wasn’t. Inside was a strength that he had watched in the only person Voldermort feared. It coursed through his veins, vibrating energy through the entire hut.



Had Dumbledore given his life to resurrect him, his magical being for Harry? “How…” He wasn’t able to force further words past his constricted throat. Even the sob that broke him was silenced through his taunt vocal chords.



“It is said that he was fallen by Voldermort.” The words were spoken with such heartbroken distain; making the cloak of anguish thickens its weave. Hermione didn’t hide her flinch, or the fear in her voice of even mentioning Voldermort’s name.



Hermione had gone through great pains to hide such behavior when mentioning He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. A change that he had taken great comfort in; allowing him to speak freely to her of thing he dare not mention to others. Now, it seemed more like a weight on his body, dragging down his magical barriers allowing easier access to the foreign powers.



“When?” Fiery hot wax coated his heart, blistering away the flesh beneath. Harry wanted only to escape, to be released from the burning within in his soul. The newly appointed strength making it more vivid in his mind; replacing the scared flesh with its own steel. He needed to stand, falter the course till he could grip upon it.



Taut wool of the blanket burrowed into his palms; his ankles twisting beneath him like melting rubber. Tears pooled across his eyes, while his arms refused to move him further then an inch off the solid hay mattress.



“Six years ago.” Hermione didn’t see Harry’s struggle, trapped within her waking nightmares. The memories of times she had pushed so far within her, till they were not even a blurred dream. “At least that is our best guess.”



“Guess?” He shook violently, chills goose bumping his struggling body. The question coming from the only part of his mind working, that had not been shattered by Hermione’s declaration.



Her heart raced, remembering the last memory of the gray bearded man. “We had just arrived, after a recovering several Evan’s from the Azkaban prison.”



“Evan’s?” Icy bitterness collected in the soles of Harry’s feet, hearing his mother’s maiden name. He let his hands hang limply off the edge of the bed, tasting bile that was gagging him.



The young witch blinked out the window, spikes of torment pounded into her spine. Her back pulsed with sensitivity; even her flesh mourned. “Yes.” Hermione swallowed, trying to push past the shade of her own pain. Harry deserved to know, the truth was best discussed now before the returned. She wouldn’t be able to protect him then, or hide the magical force the emitted from him in cascading waves.