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Bonds of Blood and Magic | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny, Severus Snape Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff, Romance Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence/Physical Abuse Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 932 Summary: A few days before Bill and Fleur's wedding, Harry vanished. Two weeks later, Ginny disappeared, also alone and without a trace. Someone has stepped out of the shadows for a moment, moved some pieces on the board, and changed the rules of the game. Hitcount: Story Total: 407086; Chapter Total: 13643 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: At last! Enjoy! |
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Ginny woke early Sunday morning and looked around happily. The morning sunlight through the window was filtered softly by the light curtains. Birds sang outside the window, and she could hear the leaves rustling in the breeze. They were home. Home, in spite of the fact that they’d only been there for a tiny fraction of the time they’d been together. It felt right. It was theirs. It was safe. It was perfect. Harry was already up. That was certainly different. She couldn’t remember a single morning since their bonding when he’d gotten up before her. She sat up and rubbed at her face, then stood and made her way into the loo. She took a few minutes to get dressed and ready for the day before she went in search of her husband. She found him sitting on the porch next to a large basket, staring out at the trees that surrounded the cottage. “Are you alright, Ginny?” he asked without turning around. “Much better.” Ginny smiled. It was true. She didn’t think anything had changed, but in spite of that, she felt lighter and more optimistic today. She also felt a bit embarrassed when she remembered collapsing into a puddle in the hallway of the hotel. Harry shook his head slightly. “Don’t do that, love. You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about.” Ginny took a deep breath of the crisp fall air. “I love you,” she said simply in reply as she studied Harry’s profile. She watched a smile break through his pensive expression. “I know, and I’m glad.” “What about you?” she asked, as she sat down next to him on the wide swing. “What are you doing up so early, and outside? Didn’t you sleep well?” He turned to her with a crooked smile and took her hand. Ginny shivered. The fall air was brisk, and Harry’s hand was cold. “I slept fine. I just woke up a bit ago, and I wanted you to be able to sleep in, so I left the room. You needed the rest.” Ginny shook her head and began to open her mouth. Harry quickly kissed her to silence her objection. “You did. You’ve spent all day, everyday, taking care of me for months. It’s my turn to take care of you. “Sit here and enjoy the morning. Just look at those trees! Some of them are already turning. Maybe you can find a new book to read,” he ordered. “Something happy,” he said, arching an eyebrow at her. Ginny snorted at his reference to the poem. “And what are you going to be doing while I’m being happy and lazy?” she asked. “Me? Oh, I’m just making breakfast.” “Really?” Ginny quipped, “I didn’t know you could do that sitting on the porch.” Harry slipped his left hand into the side of her stomach and tickled her. “Yes, really! I came out here because there is almost no food in the kitchen, so I started wondering if maybe Snape had been by, since he knew we were coming. He left this basket out here. I guess he couldn’t get through the wards we set before we went to Grimmauld.” “What did he bring us?” Ginny asked reaching across Harry to look in the basket. Harry tickled her again, since she left herself open when she leaned across him. “No peeking. Are you going to let me get to work?” “I’ll think about it,” she teased, curling up against his side. “I might need you for a blanket.” “It is chilly,” Harry agreed and wrapped his arms around her. “I think we’d better go back inside to warm up.” Ginny pulled away from Harry and jumped to her feet, laughing. “Actually, I think I’ll walk around for a bit. The apples might be ripe.” “But you’re cold,” Harry protested. “I’m also a witch.” Ginny pulled out her wand, silently casting a warming charm on Harry and applying another to herself. Harry groaned audibly at the relief the warmth brought. “Thanks. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” She laughed softly at him, shaking her head. “Sometimes, you are such a Muggle.” He snorted, acting just a bit insulted before he laughed with her. “Enjoy your walk, Gin.” “You know I’m right!” she called over her shoulder as she walked off the porch. Ginny walked to the edge of the trees, then turned and watched Harry. He had turned as was guiding the basket with his wand while he levitated it in the front door. When she saw him reach for his crutches to go in the house himself, she waved and began her circuit of the property. *** Ginny quickly lost track of time in the orchard. It was wild, untended and overgrown, so she had to clear away weeds, undergrowth, and fallen limbs as she moved into the trees. She made short work of it with her wand, and laughed to herself thinking that Harry would likely have hauled a Muggle borrow-wheel out to the orchard to remove it all manually. She wasn’t certain where he would have found one to borrow, however, and walking that much was still impossible for him. She shook herself from that path. Melancholy thoughts were not happy, and Harry ordered her to go be happy, so she focused back on the trees, since she’d come out to find out if they produced anything edible. Because of the overgrown limbs on all of the trees, most of the fruit was fairly small and underdeveloped, but there was an awful lot of it. That was one saving grace for the tiny size of the fruit: the trees, untended as they were, produced enormous quantities of the little things. Because the birds had gotten into much of the fruit, especially in the outer reaches of the orchard, finding sound pieces was a bit of an adventure. It was a rather large piece of land, though, with a variety of trees, so she really had plenty to find. She transfigured baskets from some broken branches and happily filled them while she plotted baking pies and canning jellies. She was surprised when she heard Harry calling in the distance that breakfast was ready. It sounded like he’d had to call several times, so she hurried back, eager to show Harry what she’d found. The cottage smelled incredible when she entered. Her stomach growled loudly, complaining. “That smells so good, Harry. I’m starving. You’ll never guess what I found!” She called as she set her baskets down. She smiled when she saw him sitting patiently at the set table, waiting for her. Harry laughed. “I’m guessing … apples.” Ginny laughed. “Well, yes. But there are pears, too,” she said as she grabbed a few pieces of fruit from the baskets to add to their breakfast. “And even better … damsons!” Ginny turned around with proof of her mornings work in her hands. She sat in the chair next to Harry’s wheelchair, and they began eating the scones, sausages and scrambled eggs laid out on the table. *** Fred was driving his car when he felt the DA coin heat up in his pocket. Hermione squealed when he jumped in surprise. He didn’t want to try to use the coin while he drove, but he pulled it out and glanced at Hermione speculatively. “Think you can talk to my sister without having her blow up at you?” he asked. She rolled her eyes. “I’ll try,” she said as she neatly plucked the coin from his hand. “It’s not Ginny!” she said excitedly. “Harry says he wants to talk to you.” “Well, good. You don’t have to try to sign it as me,” he quipped, while wondering why Ginny wasn’t talking to him. She stuck her tongue out at him. “It doesn’t work like that, you berk. The end signature code reflects what you think of yourself, not what you tell it to write.” Fred’s brow furrowed slightly. Ginny’s signature never had a “W” in it anymore. He wondered what that could possibly mean, as Hermione continued to lecture him on the nature of the complex web of Protean and other charms on the coins for a moment. “Hermione, are you going to answer him?” Fred finally asked when she paused to take a breath. He steered the car smoothly through a turn while she turned bright red and turned her attention to the gold coin in her hands. HP — FW is busy at the mo. Help u? HG A few minutes passed before Harry answered. HG — we need 2 meet w/FW soon. HP HP — RLLY?! where? when? Me 2? PLZ!! HG HG — srry. Just FW, now. later, u 2. HP HP — promise? HG HG — promise. HP HP — k. HG HG — talk 2 FW? HP Fred’s smirk at Hermione’s antics in the passenger seat broadened to a full grin at her squeals of excitement. “Oh, oh, oh!” She shook her hands by her face for a moment. “He says they need to meet with you, soon! They’re coming back, Fred!” Fred actually laughed. Quietly. On the inside, at first, but could not contain his mirth for long. Hermione laughed, too, and took his hand. “So, when and where am I meeting them?” She pouted a bit. “He won’t tell me, just asked to talk to you.” “Alright,” he said as he pulled to the side of the road and stopped. “You ready to drive this thing?” “Oh, no, I’m fine. I … I drove it yesterday.” Fred nodded. “And I fixed two mailboxes yesterday. And a fender. There’s nothing out here to hit, except trees. Slide on over,” he said as he got out of the car. She was still in the passenger seat when he got around to that side of the car and opened the door. He laughed. “Budge over! It’s not going to bite you. Dad helped me put a new anti-collision charm on it last night, after we got the fender back on it.” “But …” “But me no buts, Miss Granger. George is going to beat us back if you don’t drive, so get over there and let’s go!” “I’m not licensed to drive, Fred,” she said desperately. “I don’t have a magical or muggle permit.” Fred flicked his wand at her, and she squealed again as she felt her jeans lift from the leather seat. “Don’t make me levitate you,” he said in mock seriousness. She sighed resignedly and clambered over the hump and shift lever into the driver’s seat. He flicked his wand at her again, and a small, plastic-covered card landed in her lap. “There. Now, you have a license.” “That’s not valid, Fred!” she said in a scandalized tone. “Who’s going to know? Any muggle pleesman is going to get Obliviated if he doesn’t wave us on anyway. You’re not going to get into trouble for driving, Hermione. Let’s go!” he said, as he closed the passenger door definitively. The red Jaguar convertible lurched spectacularly as the rear tires tore grooves in the sod on the side of the road, until one of them caught on the pavement with a squeal and the car rocketed forward somewhat unsteadily. HP — Alright there? FW FW — Yeah. U? HP HP — yeah, alright. U want 2 C me? FW FW — yeah. Soon. HP HP — not HG? FW FW — not yet. HP HP — k. where and when? FW FW — Scotland in a few weeks. HP HP — excellent. where r u now? FW FW — no idea. England somewhere. HP HP — ? FW FW — nevermind. I want 2 bring G home. HP HP — how is she? FW FW — better now. HP HP — good. FW FW — bring secret keeper 2 meet us. HP HP — will do. need details. FW FW — let u know later. HP HP — k. FW FW — tell only secret keeper. HP HP — HG w/me. FW FW — keep her mouth shut? HP Fred barked out a laugh at that. Hermione jumped at the sound, and the car nearly took out a road sign in response. “Stop that! I’m nervous enough!” “Sorry. Can you keep a secret?” “Of course!” she huffed. “I’m serious. Can you? You didn’t before, and if I tell you and you don’t keep it, they won’t come home.” “He already made me promise, Fred,” she said in a small voice. “I can’t tell anyone anything about them unless they say I can.” “If I tell you about this, you’ll have to promise me, too.” “I promise.” “Alright. Let me finish this, and then I’ll tell you everything.” HP — she says so. FW FW — k. no 1 else. HP HP — k. FW FW — out. HP *** As Ginny finished cleaning up breakfast, she asked, “What do you want to do today?” Harry didn’t respond. He’d been awfully quiet all morning. She turned to look at him and smiled when she saw that he had fallen asleep at the table with the DA galleon in his hand. A quick glance at the coin told her he’d at least finished his conversation with Fred before passing out. “Harry,” Ginny called as she shook him gently, “Wake up. You’ll sleep better in bed.” He groaned but didn’t move. Ginny smirked. She should have expected it since he’d woken early and made her a wonderful breakfast, but he hadn’t fallen asleep in the morning for weeks. Of course, he hadn’t been up that early, either. She studied his face as she brushed her fingers through his short hair. She loved how peaceful he looked when he was asleep. Still, she couldn’t let him sleep on the table. She gently lifted his head and pulled him back to an upright position with his head resting against her stomach. “Come on, sleepy head,” Ginny coaxed as she pulled his wheelchair away from the table then pushed it towards their room. “You don’t want me to have to levitate you into bed.” Waking slightly at the movement, Harry mumbled, “’m awake.” He managed to transfer himself to the bed, but was asleep again before Ginny got his shoes off. She covered him with a blanket and kissed his forehead, then headed back to the kitchen to bake, reveling in thoughts of her home, her husband, and her kitchen. *** Snape knocked on the door of Evans cottage. He refused to admit he felt apprehensive. The Potters needed information in order to safely function, now that they were back in Britain. Poppy couldn’t visit yet, but Harry needed magical medical attention, and, naturally, having become the Potters’ pseudo guardian in some ironic twist of fate, he was the only person available. Morbid curiosity to see the results of his disastrous medical procedure, guilt, annoyance and concern about a less than friendly reception warred to take precedence as he waited. He sighed. The answers would come soon enough. Ginny answered the door. She held her wand in her hand, trained on him, and asked, “Professor, why did you kill the Headmaster?” He grimaced. “He ordered me to do so. That is not an acceptable question, Mrs. Potter.” “It’s an excellent question. There are only four people who know the answer. One is you, two of us live here, and the last thinks that we live somewhere else.” He sighed again. Right or not, it wasn’t a comfortable question, to say the least. “Might I come in? We have some things to discuss.” “Please, sir,” she said as she cancelled the flypaper ward. “May I take your cloak? Would you care for some tea?” she replied sweetly. He resisted the juvenile urge to pantomime gagging at her antics. “That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Potter,” he said as he strode into the sitting room, where Harry sat in an armchair, reading a Defense text. He tried not to sigh out loud in relief. The boy looked strong. Sitting straight and tall, Harry projected a sense of restrained power, in spite of the fact that he was sitting very still and not doing much of anything. Darkened glasses hid his eyes, which was a bit disconcerting. He looked different. Older, more mature. He was still very thin, but his shoulders were broader and he had good color. He was certainly very much alive. Snape realized he was staring and was grateful that Harry seemed to be ignoring him. He turned away and looked around. There was no wheelchair or crutches evident in the room, but from what Dr Jace said, Harry should still be using one or the other except at his therapy sessions. His eyes tightened slightly. If the foolish boy wasn’t going to follow the instructions of his healers, he could be crippled for life. And that would not be the fault of one Severus Snape, regardless of whose fault the original injury was. “Please, won’t you sit down?” Ginny continued, playing gracious hostess. Snape glared at her and sat as far from Harry as possible being unsure of both his capabilities and temper. Not wanting to stare, he looked at the folder he held in his hands. Abruptly Ginny stopped her game. “We were able to apparate here without difficulty, but if we are to travel at any time as Muggles, Professor, we’ll need to know our relative location.” “If neither of you have been to Aberdeen, Muggle means will be necessary. I do not think it wise to trust portkeys. We used them before, but … we had no other choice at that time. We will be planning ahead, since we have more time available now.” Snape jerked in surprise when Harry spoke. “I think I may have been there once, briefly, when I rode the Knight Bus. I don’t think I could apparate there though. I didn’t pay much attention,” he said, and shrugged. “You will need a safe, anonymous apparition point. The Ministry has only one set of apparition coordinates in Aberdeen and they will take you to the Crup’s Tail.” Snape stopped. It was obvious they needed to avoid magical attention. He glanced briefly at Harry before continuing. “It’s best if you keep up your Muggle personas for now. Continue to travel as the Jamiesons. Dr Jace has been in contact with the clinic in Aberdeen which will take over treatment for Mr. Jamieson. They are expecting you under that name.” He sighed. “Though it was advantageous for you to have a safehouse with a location even you yourselves could not reveal, it was only ever a temporary situation. If you had explored the area at all, you would have immediately discovered it.” “That’s fine, sir,” Ginny responded. “But we haven’t explored.” Snape nodded curtly. “We are in the Lake District, just south of Ambleside. If you follow the path about a hundred yards, you’ll reach Skeighyll Lane. You can’t tell because of the trees, but we’re very near the lake.” “Which lake?” “Lake Windemere.” Snape pulled the appropriate map out of his folder and opened it pointing to a spot on the shore of a large lake. “We’re here. Follow the road northwest about a half mile along the shore to the Waterhead Ferry Landing. You can take a bus from there to the Windemere Rail station. You’ll need to get to the bus stop by either 9:00 or 11:00 tomorrow morning in order to arrive at the rail station in time to catch a decent train. Here are directions along with bus and train schedules, phone numbers and maps of the area. I marked the best times.” Ginny took the folder and studied the map. “Thank you, Professor. Are the buses wheelchair accessible?” Snape glanced at Harry, who had leaned forward to look at the map and then frozen at Ginny’s question. “The buses are not, though there are minibuses in Bowness-on-Windemere that service the area. You would need to arrange that. There is a call box at the ferry landing.” Ginny began sorting through the pamphlets in the file. “I have provided similar information about Aberdeen. Once you arrive there, you can take a bus or call for a minibus to get to the flat I arranged for you there. The physiotherapy clinic is two blocks away from the flat. It should be close enough for you not to need transportation.” He looked at Harry. He was not certain how far Harry could travel under his own power, but did not dare to ask him directly. For some reason, he … felt … that would not be his best choice. Harry just nodded, not saying anything. “They expect to see you nine o’clock Tuesday morning and will evaluate you then.” “Is the flat wheelchair accessible?” Ginny asked. “Yes, that seemed best given the circumstances.” Snape glanced at Harry again, but still said nothing directly. Ginny frowned thoughtfully. “When will Madam Pomfrey be available for Harry?” “She sent a letter for you and wants me to start a few things today, but she can’t get away from the castle until Saturday morning during the Hogsmead visit. She’ll meet you in Banchory, at the Bridge of Feugh, and take you from there to a secure location. Do try to seem like tourists and not draw attention to yourselves while you wait for her.” Harry rolled his eyes. “We have plenty of experience.” “Is there a reason you chose Aberdeen?” Ginny asked. “It seems a bit close to Hogwarts, and the Order has relocated to Scotland, though I don’t know where.” “Aberdeen, more particularly, Aberdeenshire has unique magical characteristics which make it ideal for our purposes. Its natural landscape exudes unusually high levels of magic. The Ministry sensors don’t work there at all. In fact, they have little to no control over that area of Great Britain. Few know of it. The Ministry doesn’t like to look foolish, after all. “When the Dark Lord’s puppets eventually discover and make him aware of the issue, he will be unable to do anything about it.” “What do you mean?” asked Harry. “How would you tell a brook to stop gurgling, mountains to stop standing, or get salmon to cease their jumping? Magic is innate, in some fashion or another, in most of nature. “In Aberdeen … it is different. You will see. No one knows how they did it, but the War Mages who ruled Mar anciently set powerful, enduring protections on their land. It is as if they set shields over the sources of wild magic in the region, and it is still largely undisturbed by time or events. Certainly, I may say that magic in that region is a bit … unpredictable.” Harry looked up warily. “My magic is already unpredictable. Perhaps we should go somewhere else.” Snape looked disturbed by that revelation. “What do you mean, Mr. Potter? I was under the impression that you were not practicing magic in France.” “Well … we weren’t, while I was in hospital …” “But your magic was doing … interesting things, even then,” interrupted Ginny. No one said anything for a moment. “What was your magic doing, Mr. Potter?” Harry grimaced. “Anything it wanted,” he said dryly. “It was like I was two or something. It just … leaked.” “He wouldn’t even notice, most of the time. When he was feeling particularly emotional, random magical effects would occur. It was somewhat like accidental magic from a child, just more … powerful … perhaps more expressive is a better description. I had to touch him, or talk to him to change what he was thinking about before it stopped.” Snape let out a long breath. Loss of control at Potter’s age was unusual, and … normally, a very bad thing. “Dr Jace made no mention of that. Did anyone see you?” Harry hesitated. “Dr Jace was not aware of it. At least we didn’t discuss it with him. Erm, no one seemed to notice when it happened in public a few times, except once when I ...” he stopped suddenly and looked imploringly at Ginny, then continued agitatedly, “And of course the seizure made rather a large impact.” Harry leaned forward looking down with his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair. Ginny continued for him. “One of the boys in Harry’s therapy group made some crude remarks about me while we were on a group outing, a picnic. I was getting us food at the time. A fire started near the boy.” Snape’s eyes got very wide at that bit of news so Ginny hurried to reassure him, “He wasn’t hurt, just scared. And Harry knocked out the electronics in an entire wing of the hospital when he had his seizure.” Snape closed his eyes in thought for a moment. “The seizure doesn’t really count. Anyone might have lost control then. Did anyone see it?” “No, we were alone at the time. They blamed the power surge on a lightning strike.” Harry answered without looking up. “What stopped his attack on the boy?” “Me,” Ginny answered softly. “How?” “I felt him … getting angry, and came back as quickly as I could. I put out the fire.” Ginny shrugged. “I thought I was going to have to Obliviate some people, but it was dry and windy and some of the adults had been smoking, so no one connected the fire to Harry. I pretended to stamp out the flames and we moved away from the unfortunate boy. He didn’t mean to be disgusting, he just can’t seem to filter what he says or does. Many of the kids there had problems with impulse control as a consequence of their brain injuries.” Snape just shook his head. He had been reassured by Dr Jace that Harry did not have that particular problem. But if his magic was as unstable as it sounded, perhaps he did, just a different manifestation of it. “What about now? “Once we moved to the flat in Paris, we started practicing charms and such in the evenings for an hour or more. We revised the Hogwarts curriculum, starting with first year, before we started the new things in the books you gave us. As soon as we started doing that … well, it went away. Mostly … at least Harry has excellent conscious control of his power now.” Ginny finished trying to sound upbeat. “Mostly?” asked Snape, somewhat skeptically. The way she said it just didn’t sound promising. “Yes, mostly. Sometimes, when I’m asleep or distracted …” Harry stopped. “Things levitate, or curtains move,” Ginny finished. “Is that all?” “Mostly.” Snape cocked an eyebrow at them, but both Potters blushed slightly and refused to answer his silent query. Ginny’s wand suddenly chirruped at her. She stood quickly. “The pies are ready.” The warm, sweet aroma which had gradually permeated the room became more prominent shortly after she left. “Fruit pies?” Snape queried eventually, striving to find something to talk about. “She discovered the orchard,” Harry replied. “I think she said something about pruning it.” An awkward silence returned to the room after that, unbroken until Ginny came back. When Ginny returned with tea and a delicious-looking pie, she set the tray down and handed Harry a few pills and a small glass of water. He glared at her but swallowed the pills one at a time. Snape watched with interest. Poppy was expecting a detailed report on Harry’s condition, particularly his motor deficits and the effectiveness of his medications. Snape was pleased to note that Harry seemed to have little difficulty taking the pills, despite his reported problems with swallowing. Reminded of Poppy’s letter, Snape removed it from his cloak. He handed it to Ginny who in turn gave it to Harry. Snape observed as Ginny served the pie and poured tea and Harry opened and read his letter. “I hope you enjoy the pie, Professor. The damsons are mostly overripe, but there were some that looked quite edible.” Snape tried the pie. It was delightful. The fruit was cut finer than he expected and there was a unique flavor. “Are there pears in here?” he asked. “Yes, pears, apples and damsons. The orchard is quite productive for being so overgrown.” “It’s very good. Thank you.” Harry finished reading and looked at Snape. “How does drawing a rune on me help anything?” he asked, confused. “Which rune, Harry?” Ginny asked. Harry looked at the letter then handed it to Ginny. “Algiz?” “That’s actually a good rune for you,” she said as she started reading the letter. “It matches your personality.” “What do you mean?” “It’s a symbol for elk and also protection. Your patronus is a stag and you have strong protective tendencies. You defend against evil. It’s just who you are.” Ginny looked at Snape. “If you use it to anchor a ward, would it be as a guardian or a shield?” “A shield, but you’ve gotten ahead of us.” “I still don’t see how me having a ‘saving people thing’ helps me walk,” Harry complained. “Your wife has forgotten some of the other uses for this rune. Algiz can be used to channel energies appropriately.” Seeing Harry’s confusion, he continued. “Currently you have three types of signals coming from your brain.” He pointed to the rune drawn in the letter and drew his finger down the center line. “You have normal signals. You also have inhibitory signals.” He touched to the left branch of the rune and pulled his finger along it till it reached the center line. “And, you have excitatory signals.” He repeated the motion on the right branch of the rune. “But …” Harry began. Snape didn’t let him finish. “I realize that all three types are coming from the right side of your brain and affecting the left side of your body. The rune just illustrates the nature of their signals. Our goal is to balance them just as the rune is balanced. Though the top half is divided, the bottom half is whole.” Snape waited for Harry to nod before continuing. “We hope the rune will be able to channel the discordant signals appropriately. It may not, but it certainly won’t hurt you in any way. If our trial application of the rune helps you, we would permanently inscribe it on your spine and use it to anchor a protective ward and administer a potion.” “Inscribe? Which potion?” Harry asked incredulously. “I didn’t know runes could administer potions.” “We’ve developed a potion that we think will help you. It is absorbed by the skin on contact. We would …” “You think?” Harry interrupted, angrily. “That didn’t work out so well last time.” Snape visibly flinched. “Harry,” Ginny said, taking his right hand and gently touching his face as she sat on the arm of his chair, “I know you don’t blame Professor Snape for what happened.” Harry visibly relaxed at her touch and nodded his head. “He should,” Snape said defiantly. He didn’t want forgiveness, not from Potter. He looked at Harry expecting to see James sneering at him but the boy before him was completely different. No longer angry, Harry seemed incredibly vulnerable. Snape knew it was entirely his fault, all of it. Lily … Shaking his head, Snape whispered, “I almost killed him.” “No,” Harry seemed to have regained his composure. He looked at Snape. “It worked. The Horocrux is gone and I’m alive.” He took a deep breath. “I just thought Madam Pomfrey would be able to … fix me.” He turned back to Ginny and moved a piece of hair away from her face before finishing quietly with a wry expression, “She always has before.” Snape watched as Harry pulled Ginny onto his lap and held her tightly. Snape sighed. “Brain injuries are not common in the wizarding world. That area of magical medicine is largely unexplored. The denizens of the long-term resident ward at St. Mungo’s bear witness to that lack of knowledge. It was not safe for you to be treated in the magical world in any case. We sent you to the only expert we could trust and you have made a remarkable recovery.” Harry protested. “But, Madam Pomfrey was able to fix the nerves in my leg.” “Yes, but the brain is much more complex and the damage to your leg was simple in nature. A wizard’s magic instinctively protects his body, particularly essential organs. It takes a lot to injure a wizard’s brain. High velocity impact or extreme magical overload, even abuse, is required.” Snape continued. Harry buried his face in Ginny’s hair. “We cannot cure you, Harry. At least, not as yet, even if someday …” Snape trailed off for a moment, conflict clear on his face, before a pinched, annoyed look replaced it. “Madam Pomfrey and I have devised a solution based on a successful muggle treatment for spasticity that we believe will work well for you. It took quite some time to develop.” Harry looked up at Snape. “It is administered in the form of time released granules that are absorbed by your skin. It will act only within your spine and should mitigate your spasticity with no side effects.” Snape removed a vial from his cloak and walked over to Harry to hand it to him. He sat down on the ottoman near Harry and watched as the Potters examined what appeared to be a small amount of large, glittering granules in the bottom of the vial. They resembled extremely coarse sand, or tiny quartz crystals. “This is a potion?” Harry seemed incredulous. “Er, It’s certainly pretty, sir.” “It is,” Snape replied, seeming rather proud of his creation. “Not all potions are liquid in their final form, as you should know by now. The Muggles wanted to permanently implant a mechanical pump under your skin that would send a liquid form of your current medication directly to your spine. What you have in your hands is a portion of a new, somewhat revolutionary magical equivalent to that technique.” “How does it only treat the spine if it isn’t administered directly to it?” Harry asked. “I used the harvested spinal cord of a juvenile male runespoor in the potion. It will cause the potion to seek out like tissue to act upon as it is released to the skin. Once we decided to use algiz as our anchoring rune, the three headed snake seemed the obvious choice.” “Did you use powdered moonstone?” Ginny asked as she peered into the vial. “Yes, though that is only one of the ingredients that added iridescence. Aesthetics aside, what property will moonstone add, Mrs. Potter?” Snape quizzed. “Balance.” Snape smiled at her quick response. “Indeed. And salamander blood, Mr. Potter?” “It is a powerful restorative, sir,” Harry replied without pause. “Did you use pomegranate juice to stabilize the blood?” “No, this is not a strengthening solution. Because of its antispasmodic agents, I used the juice of belladonna berries instead.” Harry blanched at that. Snape smirked. “It’s not poisonous in combination with other elements, so long as you use the correct combinations. Especially considering the trace amount that is left in the final form of the potion, there is nothing to worry about, Mr. Potter. Those three ingredients in combination, will temper the signals from your brain when they reach the spine allowing normal motor movement to occur.” “You said there will be no side effects.” “I did. You will not have the muscle weakness and drowsiness you experience with your current medication.” “That would be nice,” Harry said with a tentative smile. “How is it time released?” Ginny asked. “I charmed sands-of-time to release their contents gradually over a 24 hour period. I then added each grain to the completed potion one at a time until it was fully absorbed. They will not begin to release the potion unless activated and they can be charmed to activate in sequence allowing …” Snape paused, waiting for one of the Potters to complete the logical conclusion of his process. “The potion to be released for days and Harry doesn’t even have to think about it.” Ginny concluded, sounding very excited about the possibility. “That was the objective. The time period is determined by the number of grains set in the sequence. Theoretically, it could be set for months and then sealed by a ward to shield it from outside interference.” “What do I need to do?” Harry asked, loosening his hold on Ginny. “If you will allow me to take a few drops of your blood, I will activate the monitoring ink. Then using that ink, I will draw the rune on both your spine and some parchment.” “Can we do it here or do we need to a different room?” “This will do.” Ginny climbed off of Harry and cleared the table so Snape could lay out his supplies. He set out his wand, the vial of sand, monitoring ink and parchment, a new goose feather quill and a small knife. When he was ready, he turned to Harry who had moved forward a bit in his chair, turned to his right to expose his back, and pulled off his shirt. Harry held out his hand and Snape pierced his finger. Three drops of blood fell into the jar, before Snape healed the wound. “This rune is a temporary means of administering the potion,” Snape said as he dipped the quill in the ink. He chanted under his breath as he drew two algiz runes along the left edge of the parchment. “The permanent version won’t monitor you at all, but while we’re determining proper dosage and weaning you from your Muggle drug, Madam Pomfrey wishes to keep a close eye on you. This will allow her to do so without confining you to the hospital wing as she would prefer.” Harry rolled his eyes. “I’ve spent enough time in hospital, thank you very much.” “I’m sure.” Snape smirked at Harry’s comment. “Hold still.” He re-dipped the quill and moved to the side of Harry’s chair. He again chanted as he carefully drew a vertical line down Harry’s spine starting just below his neck. It was about two inches long. He added two shorter diagonal lines to complete the rune and fell silent. He stepped back to look over the result. Satisfied, he sat down and put the quill in the ink. Once it had fully dissolved, he poured the concoction over the parchment. Snape watched as the ink disappeared into the parchment and jagged lines appeared. The runes began to glow slightly. Snape frowned and turned to look at Harry’s back. That one was glowing, too. “What does that mean?” Harry asked, gesturing to the parchment. “The signals the rune is monitoring are irregular.” Harry shrugged. “We already knew that.” “Yes, but your medication should be controlling it.” Harry shook his head. “It helps a lot. But it isn’t perfect. They said that it didn’t matter what drug I tried, I wouldn’t get a perfect result.” “Obviously.” Snape glared at the parchment. Inwardly, he was cursing inept Muggle healers, but did not dare express those thoughts aloud. “Would you be willing to get up and move around so we can note any changes brought about by activity?” “Yes,” Harry hesitated. “But … I’m really stiff.” He looked at Ginny for a moment then pulled his shirt back over his head. “Professor,” Ginny’s voice caught Snape by surprise, “Would you like to stay for dinner? I made plenty.” He turned to look at her. “Yes.” “Why don’t we go to the kitchen and I’ll get you a drink. Harry will join us when he’s ready.” Snape looked back at Harry and saw that he now held a pair of crutches in his hand. “Of course.” Snape replied and quickly gathered his supplies before following Ginny out of the room with some reluctance. When they reached the kitchen, Ginny gestured at a chair then began setting the table. Snape sat in the proffered chair and studied the parchment intently, wondering what exactly Harry was doing in the other room. “Sir?” He was surprised to see Ginny holding a glass in front of him. “Yes, thank you.” He took the glass. Eventually, Ginny sat down next to him and joined his study. “Why are there two lines next to each rune instead of just one like last time?” she asked. “It’s reflective of the dual nature of the rune. The top half shows the signals as they reach the spine. The bottom half shows them once they are affected by the rune and the potion.” The rune alone wasn’t doing much. There was very little difference between the top and bottom lines. Snape tapped the lower rune and circled his wand anti-clockwise, causing the lines next to it stop and back up. He tapped it again to start the lines again and compared Harry’s initial results to the current ones. “Is today a typical day for Mr. Potter?” Snape asked her. Ginny thought for a moment. “Yes and no, sir.” “Explain.” “Our routine is off with all the traveling. We’ve traveled the last few weekends so it’s becoming routine. I mean we know what to expect.” “And that would be?” “The longer Harry goes without physiotherapy, the worse he feels. He was able to swim at the hotel yesterday, so he’s not as sore as he could be, but we don’t have the equipment here to do what he does in physiotherapy. Plus, it’s colder here, and the past few days have been stressful. Cold and stress aggravate spasticity,” she explained. Snape nodded for her to continue. “He’s not complaining but I know he hurts. We took a walk earlier …” Ginny stopped and shook her head then continued, “He’s done his daily stretches and strengthening exercises, but he can’t swim here, which means tomorrow will be worse and with more traveling ...” She shrugged. “He’ll feel better once we settle in again. Why? What are you worried about?” “The medication was supposed to help him.” “It does. Harry told you that it’s not perfect. He’s on the highest dose they can give him orally and we didn’t want a pump surgically inserted into him. He’s much better now than he was.” “Indeed,” Snape thought of when he’d last seen them, two months ago, and nodded. “Dr Jace is quite pleased at Harry’s progress. I had high expectations,” he prodded the parchment again, “Too high perhaps. The potion should help him to improve at a faster pace. Hopefully, with a better end-result.” Sighing, Snape glared at the parchment. “It is impressive that he can walk at all.” “Yes,” Ginny responded, “Harry is determined to recover fully. His work ethic is very impressive, but effort can only get him so far. Can you start him on the potion today?” “That wasn’t the plan.” He looked away from the parchment and saw disappointment on her face. “We did expect that the irregular signals would increase as he gradually went off the Muggle medication. You were to give him a dose of potion each time the rune glowed.” Snape sighed, making a sudden decision. “Since it is already glowing, he clearly needs to start the potion immediately. I should be able to safely set a series for six doses, one each day until you see Madam Pomfrey. It’s a rather low dose. When the rune glows again you can administer a single dose. You’ll need to record it each time you do so we’ll know precisely how often he’ll need the potion to be administered.” “Can we do it after dinner?” Harry asked from the doorway. “I’m rather hungry.” Ginny laughed, “You should be, you didn’t eat any of my pie at tea.” She walked over to Harry, stood on her toes as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down a bit and kissed him thoroughly. Snape felt that he was intruding, but watched anyway. Harry was noticeably taller and apparently strong enough to have his wife hang on him, though he was leaning on his crutches rather heavily. “Gin,” Harry gasped after a few moments. Ginny giggled and let go of Harry. Harry shook his head. He had a silly grin on his face as he watched his wife walk to the stove to retrieve dinner. The grin vanished, replaced by a blank expression when he noticed he was being observed. Harry sighed then slowly walked to the head of the table, sat and laid his crutches on the floor. Snape watched unapologetically and gained an understanding of the uncharacteristic stillness he’d seen Harry exhibit that afternoon. Each of Harry’s steps took concentration and effort. They were not unwieldy. He was not clumsy at all. But, the easy grace that had always characterized his movements was gone. Snape’s reflections were interrupted when Ginny began serving the food. She had prepared a rich potato and cheese soup with bacon and some soft pumpkin bread. It wasn’t the Sunday roast Snape had expected but it was delicious. Ginny kept the dinner conversation going with questions about Hogwarts and the Ministry. Harry said very little, concentrating instead on eating. He seemed able to eat what Ginny had prepared without difficulty, even the pie he’d neglected at tea. He ate enough that Snape felt he could safely reassure Poppy that Ginny was not letting Harry starve. Following dinner they moved to the smaller bedroom. Once again Ginny escorted Snape and Harry joined when he was able. Snape watched him with concern. He was pale and gritting his teeth, his movements more labored than before. “Are you in pain, Mr. Potter?” Harry’s head jerked once. “I’ll take something before bed,” he replied as he worked his way into the room. “You’ll take this now.” Snape removed a vial filled with green liquid from a pocket and handed it to Ginny, trusting that she’d be more successful than he if it became necessary to force the pain relieving draught down Harry’s throat. “I’m fine,” Harry protested before sitting on the bed with a loud groan. Ginny glared at him. He looked at her sheepishly and held out his hand for the vial. Refusing to look at Snape, he swallowed the draught. “Gryffindor,” Snape said with a sneer. “Now, if you’ll remove your shirt and lie on your stomach, we can get on with our evening.” Harry looked livid, but he did as Snape ordered. He laid across the bed with his head just over the edge so he could keep his neck straight and still breathe freely. “I have to place each granule one at a time. It is essential that you do not move during this process. It will sting when the grains are placed. Shall I place you in a Full Body-bind, Mr. Potter?” Harry shook his head. “No, I’ll hold still.” Ginny moved around the bed and sat on the floor by Harry’s head so he could rest his forehead on her shoulder. She placed a hand on the back of his neck then looked directly at Snape. He nodded to her then opened the vial of prepared granules. He summoned one to his wand tip. As it reached his wand he called out, “Ûnum.” Then pointing his wand at the rune on Harry’s back, he banished the granule. Harry barely flinched when it was embedded into his skin. Snape quickly named and placed five more grains into the rune, “Duo, tria, quattour, quinque, sexto.” “Excieo ûnum!” he commanded finally, activating the first granule. He sealed the vial and placed it aside. “Now, we wait a few minutes.” Snape turned to the parchment. At first there was no change, but gradually the jagged lines softened and the glow of the runes faded. He smiled. “It’s working.” Ginny dragged her eyes away from the rune to look at him. “What do I do if it glows again?” “It may not before your visit with Madam Pomfrey. If it does, summon a single grain to your wand, activate it with the incantation, Excieo, then banish it to the rune on Mr. Potter’s spine. Only do this if the rune is glowing brightly. He won’t be able to move at all if you give him too much,” he cautioned. He didn’t know the exact effect too high a dose would have, but paralysis was likely. Ginny looked at him in shock and gulped. “Yes, sir,” she said softly, suddenly subdued. Satisfied she would be cautious, Snape set the parchment aside and seemed to go into a trance. Long minutes slipped past. Suddenly Ginny giggled. Harry whispered something to her that Snape could not hear and she buried her face in his shoulder. Snape ignored their interaction, erecting a shield ward anchored to the algiz rune. Its main purpose was to keep the potion contained within the rune from contamination or disturbance, but as he’d planned, he expanded it to shield Harry’s entire body. A barrier of white light formed over Harry. Snape drew a laguz in the shield with his wand and with a flash it vanished. Ginny gasped and looked at him with confusion. “What happened?” Harry asked. “The potion grains are gone.” Ginny reached out tentatively to touch Harry’s back. “They aren’t gone, Mrs. Potter,” Snape corrected, “They’re just hidden.” Ginny rubbed her fingers over the rune. “I can’t feel them.” Snape smirked. “That was the intent. The Muggle therapists who work with Mr. Potter won’t know they are there. It now looks like a simple tattoo. “You may move, Mr. Potter. We are finished.” Harry turned onto his side and sat up slowly. He reached back to feel his neck and shoulders then looked at Snape. “There is a tingling … kind of a hum.” He grimaced. “The energy of the ward. You will get used to it. Do you feel any other effects?” Harry rolled his shoulders and stretched. “Erm, I’m not as tight and the twitching stopped. What about that shield, sir?” “You won’t know it’s there unless you are attacked,” Snape paused and appraised Harry, “Or fall. It won’t stop unforgivable curses but it should at least lessen the impact of anything else and will hopefully keep you from sustaining yet another brain injury.” “You say that like I’m fragile or something.” Harry complained. Ginny placed her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes, “You are fragile, Harry, and I’d like to keep you in one piece. I’m glad you’ve been wrapped in cotton wool.” Harry shook his head. “You will pretend that it isn’t there and act to defend yourself as usual, Mr. Potter.” “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Snape held the parchment up for Harry and Ginny to examine. “You can see the difference between the signals entering the rune and those exiting it. You should find it much easier to walk now.” Snape rolled the monitoring parchment and placed it inside his cloak then handed the vial of granules to Ginny. “Thank you, Professor,” Ginny replied, pocketing the potion. “Travel to Aberdeen tomorrow and continue your physiotherapy. Follow the instructions in Madam Pomfrey’s letter to safely taper off the baclofen. You’ll feel stronger as it leaves your system but don’t try to stop it all at once.” “I won’t. I don’t want to have another seizure.” Snape inclined his head then continued sternly, “Do not take any other Muggle medications you may have been given. When you are in pain, take a pain relieving draught. The green will not make you sleepy, the blue will, so take it at night. I left you several doses of each this morning along with nutrient potion you will take once a day until told other wise.” “Yes, sir.” Snape looked intently at Harry. He seemed to be in less pain and had more color. “Will you be able to get to the bus stop tomorrow morning?” “Yes.” “Then Madam Pomfrey will see you in Aberdeen on Saturday.” *** Poppy looked out the window of the old toll house. A young couple was on the bridge, apparently watching the salmon jump the rapids. The man sat in a wheelchair. He looked too old to be Harry, but who else could it be? She peered intently at the pair. Severus warned her that they had changed, but his description did not match the couple she saw on the bridge. The woman’s hair was red, but not Weasley red. It was a deeper, darker shade, and it only reached her shoulders. The woman took a picture of the Feugh, then leaned over and said something to her companion. Turning suddenly, she took a picture of him. He reached out and grabbed her. Recognising the playful antics, Poppy smiled to herself. It was them. *** The werewolf stared at the strange symbols on the door in front of him. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been in the room, and didn’t remember arriving in it. The one thing he could see that was clear and undamaged was the door, with the huge symbols painted down the face of it — symbols that, in spite of all his scholarship, he did not recognize, nor could he guess at their meaning. The last thing he did remember was wishing that he’d been able to get some Wolfsbane, just as the edge of the full moon slipped above the mountain east of him and slowly rose into the fall sky. He’d known, as every werewolf in the world did, that the full moon was rising soon, and so had fled the Muggle village where he’d taken refuge after he lost his wand. He hiked for two days into the mountains, not stopping to rest, only drinking at streams and eating late-season berries. Then, ragged, footsore, cold, and hungry, he lay in the dry, dead grass of a mountainside in the Grampians, hoping that he was far enough into the wilderness to be safe from harming anyone as he watched the bane of his life rising above him. He looked around himself, at the room. His left arm was torn and bloody, as were the nails of his fingers and palms of his hands. He knew from the experiences his lifetime as a lycanthrope gave him that he’d torn his own flesh with his teeth, and then battered desperately at his confinement, tearing his paws to shreds. The fresh scarring on the walls and floor bore mute testimony to his recent torment. And now, he paid for it again in conscious pain, suffering his injuries and after-transformation pain even after the change was done, sitting naked on the stone floor of an empty, silent, anonymous room. He buried his face in his hands and shuddered in despair. |
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