Chapter 88: 6-4
Harry was terrified.
After presumably dreaming of Voldemort during Divination, Harry had gone to Dumbledore while clutching his aching scar. Immediately upon his return, he grabbed me and headed out to the grounds. I let him pull me along by the hand in silence, forging ahead until we stopped at the edge of the lake, which had completely transformed into a carpet of green grass.
"Harry?"
"Wormtail..."
"Yes."
"Wormtail was being tortured by him—my head felt like it was splitting open."
"I know."
"I saw all sorts of memories at the Headmaster’s..."
"I see."
"It wasn't just Karkaroff. Snape, too—"
He was a Death Eater—
As a series of shocks collided, leaving him unable to pull himself together, I took the boy’s shoulders and gently guided him to sit down. He was just a boy. A mere child, despite being the Boy Who Lived.
"Sirius told me. In his letters. Bit by bit, he explained things. And... I learned that Crouch sent his own son to Azkaban without a shred of mercy."
Harry dug his nails into both of his ears. It was too painful to watch, so I intertwined my fingers with his to pull at least one of his hands away.
"I can’t get the sound out of my ears. He was so desperate—crying for his father, his mother—so much... I don't understand how someone could be so cold-blooded, how they could cast aside their own child. He was calling for them."
Crouch Jr.—a man who even now lives for the hatred of his father. And eventually—a pitiful man who would kill his own flesh and blood with his own hands.
"I thought... if Maria ever looked at me with eyes like that... I wouldn't be able to go on living."
"That would never happen. Never. I am your greatest ally, Harry."
As I rubbed his back, Harry let out a faint groan, and then gasped in an even smaller, fading voice.
"If that's true, then—"
It was the desperate scream of a pitiful sacrifice, a mere child hoisted up to be a hero.
"Then help me. I’ve had enough. I’m sick of it. Why is it always me? What did I do? What kind of punishment is this? They’ve been trying to kill me since the moment I was born—why must my death be wished for simply because I exist?"
"Harry."
"Help me. Save me. I didn't want any of this. They showed us; the Third Task is a maze. It’s not exciting, it’s not fun. Who is targeting me? Please... someone, just take my place."
I nodded. I simply nodded.
"Alright."
Beautiful, tear-filled emerald eyes—'I' was looking up at me.
"I will become Harry."
"Maria...?"
"If I start now, there's still time to brew the Polyjuice Potion. I’ll enter the Third Task as Harry Potter."
"What are you... saying?"
I embraced his body, which was much, much smaller than Krum's or Cedric's.
"You've done well, Harry. —From now on, 'I' will do it."
I pressed a kiss to the dumbfounded Harry's scar and stood up. Now that it's decided, I need ingredients, and then Draco. I can't brew something as complex as Polyjuice Potion by myself. I need to hurry. Even a little—I want to free this child.
"Harry?"
Harry was gripping my robes.
"Thank you."
"It's okay. You've done more than enough."
"Yeah—yeah, it's enough."
His hand moved from my robes to my arm, and with a strong pull, I was forced to sit back down beside him.
"Harry?"
"Thank you, Maria. Those words... that's all I needed."
"Harry, I’m serious."
"I know. That’s why it’s okay. I’m fine now. Because I have you, Maria—someone who truly, seriously wants to save me. That alone is enough to make me stand."
True to his words, Harry stood up. He hugged me from the front, repeating his thanks in a trembling voice.
"Maria—thank you for being my sibling."
"Harry..."
With weak arms that held no strength at all, I hugged his back in return.
"No—thank you."
Please—
Do not forgive 'me,' who lets you shoulder everything despite knowing how it ends.
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