SIYE Time:8:48 on 8th October 2024 SIYE Login: no | | |
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The World Turned Right Side Up By drawjones
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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, General, Romance, Tragedy
Warnings: Sexual Situations, Violence
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 259
Summary: With Voldemort gone and a world no longer in fear Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione begin to move on with their lives, only to find that happily ever after is just beyond the horizon.
Hitcount: Story Total: 181480; Chapter Total: 5175
Author's Notes: Here's the next chapter. I hope everyone enjoys it. Whether you do or not, please feel free to leave your comments and reviews. Again, many thanks to my wonderful Beta, Ginny Guerra. Please note that ALL spell names not from Canon are her creation as I am horrible with Latin and anything that remotely resembles Latin.
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When the hell did Hogwarts get church bells? Ron thought to himself for a moment as his mind waivered in the fog of uncertainty. Gradually, the ringing in his ears grew louder, finally to the point that he clumsily clasped his hands over his ears with no effect.
Small bits of dirt and grass were still falling around him as Ron unsteadily attempted to get to his feet. Shaking his head, trying to get the ringing in his ears to stop, Ron first stumbled to the left and then back to his right.
The scene would have been quite funny for a casual observer, were it not for the fact that to either side of where Ron was standing was utter destruction. Gashed deeply into the ground were two similar appearing trenches, each nearly four feet deep, and extending a good fifteen feet back behind the red-head.
In fact, where Ron was standing itself should have been part of the destruction, but fortunately Ginny’s shield had held, although Ron had obviously not been left without any injury. As Hermione reached Ron, her eyes grew wide as she put her hand to her mouth.
“Oh, Ron!” she cried as she dropped to her knees beside him, her eyes focused intently on his leg.
“Wha-?” Ron asked still obviously dazed and confused.
“How did you stand on that leg?” Hermione continued, looking down towards Ron’s left leg.
The fact that he had been able to stand was amazing, taking into account that, as Hermione currently surveyed his leg, it was bent off at an unnatural angle about midway down his lower leg. His jeans were shredded and a small amount of blood trickled down towards his ankle.
Carefully pulling away the tattered remains of the jeans over his leg, Hermione inspected it, looking for any protruding bone. She breathed a sigh of relief as all she could find was an abrasion. Looking to Ron, she realized he was still concussed from the force of the spell and its impact onto the shield, and that he was probably in shock as well.
Feeling for a pulse in his foot, she again relaxed as she felt the strong rush of blood through the artery, signaling that the bone was probably the worst thing injured in his leg. Looking up to Ron, she saw the glazed look in his eyes as he tried to process what was going on. Currently, he was looking at his own leg, wrenched around at an unnatural angle, and seemed to be amused at its funny appearance.
“Ron,” Hermione began, forcing composure into her voice. “Your leg’s broken. I need to straighten it and get it in a splint before we take you to Madam Pomfrey, Ok?”
Ron just looked at her for a moment, his mind still not grasping what she was telling him. “Wha-?” he began again just as both Harry and Ginny finally got to them.
“Ron! Your leg!” Ginny exclaimed as both she and Harry gathered around Ron.
“Hiya, mate…” Ron spoke as he noticed Harry kneeling beside him. “Got me good with that one.”
For a moment, Harry looked at Hermione in confusion. “He’s in shock, and probably got a pretty good concussion too,” she explained. “He’s a bit loopy right now, but I’m afraid he’ll come around when I set the leg.”
“At least he doesn’t seem to be hurting,” Harry added hopefully.
“Yeah, but that’ll end when I straighten his leg,” Hermione responded. “I’m almost certain of it. There’s no way to do this without hurting,” she continued as she looked up to Ron, so that he knew she was addressing him.
Gritting her jaw, Hermione placed one hand on Ron’s leg above the break and another below it. She took a deep breath to ready herself. “On three,” she spoke out loud as she readied to bend the leg back.
“Wait,” Harry said as he reached his hand out and put it on Hermione’s forearm. “Let me do it. You help comfort and hold Ron. He’s likely to kick or worse when his leg starts to be straightened. I’ll be better able to hold him and deal with the problems down here. He’ll need you to help comfort him when the pain starts.”
Gratefully, Hermione looked at Harry. Her hand fell away from Ron’s leg as she nodded to Harry and then took up place beside Ron’s head as she began to comb her fingers through Ron’s hair.
“Feels good,” Ron spoke softly as the euphoria seemed to begin waning and was replaced with exhaustion.
“This is going to hurt,” Hermione whispered softly into his ear as she looked down to Harry and nodded.
“Alright then,” Harry began, “On three.”
As Harry prepared to set the bone, both Hermione and Ginny took one of Ron’s hands in their own. Harry placed his hands in the same position Hermione had just a few moments before.
“One…” he said softly as he tightened his grip around Ron’s leg.
“Two..” he spoke more firmly as he began to tense the muscles in his arms and chest in anticipation of the resistance he would meet as the pain hit Ron, and he would begin to fight against Harry.
“Three…” he barked loudly as in one quick motion Harry used his left hand to stabilize Ron’s leg above the break, while he wrenched the leg below the break back into some semblance of alignment. As he had expected, Ron’s body began to react to the pain by tensing his muscles and kicking out with his leg, but Harry’s grip was firm and his motion quick enough that he had the leg straightened before Ron could react and all he had to do was hold it straight.
Ron immediately cried out as his confusion and altered state quickly evaporated under the intensity of the pain. He squeezed both Hermione and Ginny’s hands so tightly that both girls thought he was going to crush them. Although it only took Harry a couple seconds at most to straighten his leg, Ron continued to cry out for a few moments as his whole leg screamed at him in revolt. Slowly, though, the acute sharp pain began to abate, and he was left with a monumental dull ache that seemed to increase a hundred fold with every beat of his heart.
Ron clenched his teeth and his cries faded to a low moan as he released Ginny and Hermione’s hands, and raised his own hands up to his face. Hermione kept her attention focused on Ron as Ginny quickly moved down to beside Harry and conjured a splint and bandages to stabilize Ron’s leg until they could get him to the castle.
“Sorry ‘bout that, mate,” Harry said as Ginny finished with the splint.
“S’ok,” Ron quickly exhaled as he took another shuddering deep breath, trying to control and force down the pain that was soaring through his leg. “Just a broken leg, ya know?”
Harry smiled softly at Ron and Hermione as he stood. Raising his wand, Harry conjured a stretcher and then levitated Ron onto it, before finally levitating the stretcher and preparing for the march to the castle.
As they made their way up to the castle, Ginny fell in step beside Harry while Hermione stayed beside Ron.
“What spell was that?” Ginny asked softly enough so that Hermione would not overhear their conversation.
“It’s one of the spells Daemon was using against me,” Harry responded softly as he looked to Ginny and not paying attention to where he was leading Ron. “It was in the book that Gryffindor gave us. It supposedly is able to destroy entire buildings at a time, and its effect is dependent upon how much power you put into it.”
Ginny’s eyes widened for a moment, “Harry,” she began finally. “Do you realize what you could have done? You put entirely too much power into a spell like that for your first time!”
“Gin, that’s the problem,” Harry retorted, cutting her off before she could continue. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. I put the least amount of magic into that spell that I could. I’m just glad that your shield held as well as it did.”
Ginny nodded her head silently in agreement. “But what if it hadn’t, Harry?” she asked. “How were we to know that it would withstand a spell like that?”
Harry was thoughtful for a moment. “Gryffindor told me that that shield is among the strongest we can cast. He said that it should work to defend against almost any of the spells in that book if I cast them at a low level.”
Again, Harry fell silent as they continued their trek up to the castle. “I think the reason Ron came out so much the worse for wear is that the spell hit the ground in front of him, and dug under him. What happened wasn’t the spell hitting him, but the effects of the spell on the area around him.”
Ginny remained silent as Harry continued with his thought. “If nothing else, then I know now that I don’t have to be precise with that spell. In fact, it might be better to intentionally miss with it.”
Ginny nodded her understanding as Harry let out a long sigh.
“Madam Pomfrey isn’t going to be happy when she sees us,” he began.
Ginny snorted, and quickly tried to cover it by coughing as Hermione turned to see what was going on. “What would give you that idea, Harry?” she asked with the sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Could it be that this will be the second time today we’ve come to see her, or that it is the seventh time this week that one of us has had to come visit her?”
Harry smirked for a moment before softly replying, “Both, but what’ll put her over the edge is that it’s just Wednesday.”
Ginny snorted again and this time Hermione turned around to see her fighting back her laughter. “Just what’s so funny?” the bushy haired young woman asked.
Taking a moment to collect herself, Ginny then replied, “Harry was just pointing out that Madam Pomfrey will not be happy with us.”
Hermione’s brow furrowed for a moment before Ron began to chuckle himself. “Yeah, you can say that twice and still not know the half of it. She nearly had a fit when it was my arm for the second time yesterday. At least today, it’s not the arm again.”
“True,” Harry added before a smirk slowly spread across his face. “And look at the bright side… even though one is broken, at least you still have a leg to stand on when dealing with her.”
***
Ron walked tentatively on his recently healed leg as the foursome made their way away from the hospital ward. Madam Pomfrey had been livid when they had first arrived, and her frustration clearly showed as she was dealing with Ron. It was not so much the fact that he had a broken leg, that was simple enough to fix, it was the additive effects of her having to treat one or more of the foursome multiple times each day because of various injuries they were suffering during their training.
Broken bones, bruises and cuts had been the worst of it so far. That was itself a testament to the strength of the shields they had mastered, but Madam Pomfrey’s concerns were valid. The spells they were now using, Harry especially, affected a large area. They were indifferent to who was nearby and anyone that was not shielded would certainly suffer greatly.
Quickly, the foursome made their way back down to the area they had been training at earlier in the day. Looking around, the area looked like a battlefield with numerous piles of rubble from boulders that had been demolished and deep gashes in the ground from other spells’ impacts.
Looking to his friend, Harry sighed before speaking, “Ron, maybe it’s best if you take it easy for the rest of the day. I’d hate for you to have to go see Madam Pomfrey again.”
“You mean you don’t want to have to go there again yourself… especially if it’s taking me for another broken bone,” Ron replied sarcastically yet insightfully.
Harry grinned a moment before shaking his head in agreement. “Yeah, that too,” he added.
While Madam Pomfrey may not have been as gentle with Ron’s leg as she normally would have, the fact that he was injured did at least spare him her full wrath. Harry, on the other hand, had bore the full brunt of her glares, rants and raves.
Numerous times Harry had been the recipient of a very firm tongue lashing from the healer while she was busy tending to Ron. Every time she had seemed to run out of steam and finally stopped, she would find some other injury and get started right back up.
By the time it was over, and Ron’s leg was almost good as new, Harry was all too happy to make his way out of the hospital ward, lest Madam Pomfrey start in on him again. Much to Harry’s consternation during the whole time as well, Ginny and Hermione had just stood by Ron, frequently covering smirks and holding in laughter as the healer seemed to focus entirely upon Harry for Ron’s problems.
Ron was now taking himself a rather comfortable looking seat in the shade of a nearby tree. Lazily, he extended his legs and folded his arms behind his head. Looking at Harry with a broad grin, he closed his eyes and began to doze. Harry’s lip twitched with annoyance for a moment at the fact that his best mate was so ready to take advantage of Harry’s own reluctance to face Madam Pomfrey again for a while.
Having seen Harry’s response, Ginny called over to him, “Harry, quit being grumpy. You know just as well as I do that if it were you, you’d be doing the exact same thing!”
Harry did his best to glare at her, but a small grin broke out across his face. Mumbling under his breath something about redheads, he began to walk towards Ginny realizing that she knew him too well for his own god sometimes.
Stopping to look at Ginny and Hermione, Harry began again, “Actually, there’s a spell I’d like to practice and see if I can get the hang of.”
For a moment, both Ginny and Hermione looked cautiously at Harry. “Hopefully, nothing like the one you tried on Ron earlier,” Ginny finally said, although she already knew that Harry would never try anything like that with Hermione or herself.
Harry looked surprised at Ginny’s statement for a second before he was able to blurt out, “Uh… No! Nothing like that.”
Ginny and Hermione looked to one another and then back to Harry. In unison they agreed, at least appreciating that if it was Harry wanting to try a new spell, he would be the one most likely getting dirty and sweaty and maybe they could stay relatively clean.
“Ok…” Harry began as he led them a few more paces away from Ron who was still lazing merrily under the shade of the tree. “This spell is what I would call a spell of last resort on the battlefield.”
“What do you mean?” Hermione questioned.
“Simple, according to the notes Gryffindor attached to the spell, once it’s cast, only the caster will be left able to defend himself and anyone that took part in it.”
A look of concern spread across both Ginny and Hermione’s faces as they considered what Harry had said. What they knew of Daemon meant that a spell like this was most likely not a very good choice be using at any time during the battle.
“And just what does this spell do?” Ginny finally asked.
Harry walked slowly towards both Ginny and Hermione. He made certain to look them both in the eyes as he began to speak again, “It enables the caster to draw upon the magic of a willing witch or wizard to boost his own power. From what I can tell, it was used before Gryffindor’s time when wizards were injured in battle and unable to fight, they would willingly allow those still fighting to use their magical energy.”
Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. “You said that it leaves the person giving the magic defenseless. I’m assuming that means it stays in effect until the person is drained of their magic.”
Harry nodded his head. “Best I can tell, the spell will continue draining power until the person is magically exhausted. They’ll lose consciousness and then it’ll be a while before they can do anything magical again.”
Ginny looked at Harry for a moment, a thought forming in her head before she spoke, “You said that it’s a spell where the person must willingly give their magic. Is there one where it can be forcibly taken?”
“Not that I can tell,” Harry responded. “The spell itself was not very well known. The knowledge of the spell had almost died out even before Gryffindor’s time, but he and the other founders had the same fears you just mentioned. So they chose to put the spell in the book so there wouldn’t be the chance for someone to figure out how to change the spell so that it would.”
Hermione and Ginny were both quiet for a while. “But is it a good idea to cast the spell on us right now?” Hermione finally asked. “I mean if it drains our magic, it’ll be days before we can train again.”
“I know,” Harry replied, “but what I had in mind was practicing my part of the spell and teaching you how to initiate the link to allow me to use your magic.”
Both witches looked thoughtful for a moment before slowly nodding their head in unison. “I suppose it may wind up being useful. After what we’ve learned of Daemon, it may very well take the combined magic of more than just one to do it,” Hermione concluded.
“Alright then,” Harry began solemnly. “The spell is relatively straightforward. There are no complicated wand movements, just a simple twist and then a jab. What’s important is the annunciation of the spell…”
Ginny looked on watching Harry talking primarily to himself and secondarily to Hermione, who throughout everything they had been through had not lost her passion for learning. It was easy for Ginny to let her mind wander during these times because once Harry and Hermione started, they would be busy for the next few minutes as Hermione asked question after question. While it was not that she felt the questions were pointless, there is only so much one could take along those lines. More and more, as the time drew nearer where Daemon would return, Ginny found herself beginning to decidedly favor decisive action, and that required practice, not discussion.
“Ginny,” Harry called over to her, breaking her from her train of thought.
She smiled at him and saw a look of understanding in his eyes. Harry knew she paid attention when she needed to. He returned her smile as she once more gave him her full attention.
Harry’s face became stern with concentration. “Ok,” he started, “the spell name is Capio dicionis. Once I start the spell, I should be covered with a light blue aura. All that it takes after that is for you and Hermione to say Decedo dicionis, and a connection should be established.”
Ginny nodded her head in understanding before another thought crossed her mind. “And just what happens if no one willingly provides their magic?” She knew this was an important question, as they were just about to have Harry cast the spell without either Hermione or her completing the spell.
“The spell lasts for a few seconds before it just fades away,” Harry responded. “The spell is maintained by the magic of those helping, not the caster, so if no one helps, the spell will falter and extinguish.”
Satisfied, Ginny gave Harry a brief smile and she walked over beside Hermione, and together the witches walked a few paces clear of Harry. They looked expectantly to Harry as they watched him pause for a couple moments and gather himself.
Harry’s face became full of concentration as he began to attempt the spell. While overall appearing relatively simple to perform, Harry quickly realized the spell was in fact quite difficult. After multiple attempts, he decided to stop for a moment and refocus.
Pacing around in a circle, Harry tried to let his mind relax. As he had tried the spell again and again, he could feel his body becoming more and more tense. He knew such tension was not conducive to accomplishing new spells, especially very difficult ones. Finally, he closed his eyes and drew in a long deep breath. Slowly he felt his chest expand until he could take in no more air, and after holding it for a second, began to even more slowly release it. Counting backwards from twenty as he did so, Harry felt his body slowly begin to relax a bit.
As he exhaled the last of the breath, Harry opened his eyes. While not entirely relaxed, Harry felt better than he had. Bending his head from one side to the next, stretching his neck, Harry felt ready for another go at the spell. He looked over to Ginny and Hermione who had been silently waiting for him as collected himself.
Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly one last time, Harry began to call forth his magic. Slowly he let it build as he began the wand motion. A moment later, he softly spoke, “Capio dicionis.” Instantly he knew it had worked. From the tip of his wand a blue mist began to disperse. Instead of traveling away from him, though, the mist quickly enveloped his body, and soon a soft blue glow emanated from around him.
As the mist had settled around him, Harry’s senses became acutely aware. The magical energy of both Ginny and Hermione, who stood only feet from him was easy to sense, but Ron’s, who was setting some twenty yards away, was also detectable. For a moment, Harry stood silently, taking in the sensation of magic around him, enjoying his heightened awareness. Not only did the spell enhance his sense of magic in others, but he could now feel his own magic coursing through his body with every beat of his heart.
The feeling was almost intoxicating. Being so acutely aware of his magic, Harry felt almost unstoppable, but a small voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him, You’re no different than you were just a few moments ago. Now it’s only that you can feel the full extent of your magic.
Much too quickly for Harry’s liking, the aura began to fade, and along with it, the sensations abated. Harry let out a sigh of displeasure as he began to feel normal again, but quickly his mind told him, It’s best this way, Potter. Getting attached to feelings like that is never good. That’s where the true danger in this spell lies.
While Harry had been having this conversation in his mind, Ginny and Hermione had been looking on with shock. Ginny had recognized the look of wonder and amazement in Harry’s eyes that had first accompanied his successfully casting the spell. She had also noticed how his face had changed to one of pleasure and enjoyment as the spell had lingered.
The way he had looked around, to Hermione and her first, then towards Ron, and finally to their surroundings in general, Ginny surmised that Harry was sensing magic at its most basic level. The look of disappointment on his face as the spell had faded only confirmed her suspicion. Walking over to him, she said nothing, but their eyes met.
“Amazing,” came his response to her unvoiced question. “I could feel you, Hermione and even Ron,” he continued as the near intoxicating effects of the spell finally began to fade away. “It’s an amazing feeling, but I can see why this spell is so dangerous. Even without being able to call upon the magic of an unwilling wizard, the way I felt was near euphoric. Were I to have had you and Hermione’s power surging into me, I know I would have felt indestructible.”
Hermione frowned at Harry’s statement as she approached. “Then it’s utterly important that you learn to control the euphoric effects of the spell,” Hermione began, “because even with added power, feeling like you were indestructible would only lead to you rushing headlong into a situation where Daemon would still have an advantage.”
“I know,” Harry replied sincerely, “but that was why I needed to practice this spell aside from the obvious fact that I couldn’t get it to work straight away. Now I know what to expect, and I can prepare my mind, should we have to resort to using it.”
“Good,” Ginny finally chimed in as she took another step towards Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck. “But let’s hope it never comes to that,” she whispered softly as she nuzzled her head softly against his shoulder. “For now, I think that’s enough practice.”
Harry smiled softly. He completely agreed with Ginny. No matter how intoxicating that spell could be, he was now under the charm of the one thing he truly could not resist. Ginny was currently fulfilling his one true addiction — her touch. “Too right,” Harry was finally able to get out as he took in the sweet aroma of her hair.
***
A cauldron sat empty on a solitary wooden table in the deepest part of the ancient stone castle. The door to the room stood open, waiting patiently for the recent occupant to return. Silence reigned for a few moments until footsteps could be heard echoing from the distance down the corridor. With each step, the sound grew louder until at last Daemon appeared in the doorway.
He paused for a moment, looking at the cauldron before him. Beside the cauldron, on the table, were all the ingredients he needed for the potion, save the final one, which he currently held in his hand. Stepping into the room, he placed it on the table alongside the rest as he walked around and stood over the cauldron.
A malicious grin slowly spread across his face as he took hold a large flask filled with a deep red liquid. Deliberately he poured it into the cauldron. It had come at a great cost to get this ingredient. Not every day was one capable of taking the blood of an unwilling dragon. Even utilizing his tremendous power, Daemon had to admit his muscles still ached from his battle with the great beast.
As the final drops of blood fell from the flask into the cauldron, Daemon raised his wand and lit a black flame underneath the cauldron. With the blood beginning to heat, he began to slowly stir the blood in a clockwise manner. Once, twice, three times he stirred, until a small vortex began to form. Cautiously he withdrew his wand and watched as the vortex continued without further guidance.
Daemon next seized hold of a small piece of mistletoe. He pulled five leaves from the larger piece and laid them atop one another on the table. Quickly but carefully, he sliced the leaves into thin sections until he had a pile of finely cut pieces. Laying his knife flat against the pile, he smashed his fist with a firm downward motion against it, crushing the leaves. As he withdrew the knife, he saw the mashed pulp of the leaves as well as the now dripping liquid contents.
Pausing for a moment to ensure the vortex was still occurring correctly in the cauldron, Daemon used the knife once more as a scoop, raking up the mashed leaf pieces and slowly pushed them into the cauldron. For a few seconds, nothing happened, until finally a puff of smoke belched from the cauldron. Daemon turned away for a moment, to let the foul gas clear so that it would not burn his eyes. When he looked back, Daemon nodded to himself with satisfaction as he noticed the rotation of the vortex had reversed.
It’s only a matter of time… he thought to himself … before I complete this potion again and will come for you. This time though, there won’t be a chance of the damned phoenix coming to your rescue. There won’t be a chance of anyone coming to your rescue.
Daemon had destroyed the pitiful village he had first confronted the Chosen One in as a result of Fawkes’s interference in his plans. To say that he had been shocked and severely put off that he had not been able to eliminate the prophecy was an understatement that the tattered ruins of Ottery St. Catchpole was testament to.
Even after the Chosen One had disappeared, Daemon tried to utilize the power the potion would grant him, to no avail. He had been unable to once more visualize everything at once and then focus on specific magic as he homed in to its source. Where Gryffindor and the Chosen One had been so easy to find before, Daemon now found himself unable to focus in on either of their energies. In fact, the castle he had confronted Gryffindor in, for all of its magical power could not be found.
It was when he had realized that the time of the potion had passed that Daemon understood the truth. The boy had been able to stay alive, but barely. Without the aid of a phoenix, he would have died that day. Now, for whatever it mattered, the boy had a less than two month reprieve until Daemon came for him again.
Maniacal laughter filled the room as Daemon stood staring at the cauldron for a few more minutes. There was nothing else for him to do at the moment. The mistletoe and dragon’s blood had to simmer for two complete days before it would be time to add the next ingredient, and even then he could only add it after sunrise on the third day.
It’s been far too long for my plan to be completed, now it’s just six more weeks Daemon thought to himself as he strode around the table heading towards the door. As he left the room this time, Daemon pulled the door closed and cast a locking charm up it. He would check on his potion in three days time, but for now, he had a whole population of Muggles to take care of that insisted upon continuing to exist.
That minor nuisance will readily be remedied! he thought to himself as he began walking back down the corridor, stopping at the end. With a loud, CRACK Daemon disappeared.
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