With One Hand Tied Behind My Back
Sweat beaded along the brow of Harry Potter's face, scrunched in concentration. He was entirely focused on the detailed task at hand, which happened to be an appendectomy. He was performing the procedure on a recently deceased elderly wizard who had passed away in his sleep from old age. Madame Pompfree had been scheduling these lessons and surgeries twice a week for him since his third year when he had come to her and expressed an ernest interest in healing.
Harry new that most everyone expected him to become an auror after graduating Hogwarts, but he had no wish to see any more lives lost. As soon as he could fulfill the damn prophesy and face Voldemort once and for all he was done fighting. He would find a nice quite cottage somewhere in the countryside, floo to the Burrow each Sunday for dinner, go over to Ron and Hermione's and play with their kids (if they ever admitted their feelings for each other!), and just lead a nice quite life. He may even find a nice young man to settle down with, but Harry wasn't too sure that would ever happen.
Harry had accepted his sexuality easily. After all, it is hard to stress about liking other blokes when you are constantly worried about being killed by a madman. That, however, did not make the Wizarding World more accepting of homosexuality. Not surprisingly, the archaic views help by much of the Wizarding population included an intolerance for same sex couples, just as they did for magical creatures, muggles, and anything else outside the norm. Even many of those pitted against Voldemort held such beliefs. Much of the Wizarding World may not want to erraticate creatures and muggles, but they still looked down on them as they did those who were gay.
For this reason Harry kept his sexuality quiet. It wasn't as if he was looking to date right now anyway. He was far too busy to deal with relationships, and Harry know himself well enough to know that he was just not the type for casual flings like Seamus or Lavender. He did not understand the allure of shagging a random bloke and then walking away. Maybe it was due to his loveless childhood, but Harry dreamt of forging a deep bond with someone even more than he dreamt of sex.
"Watch your cauterizing, Mr. Potter. If this man's heart were pumping there would be blood gushing from that tissue!" Madame Pompfree's reprimand cut through Harry's wandering thoughts and brought him back to the task at hand. With renewed focus he gripped his wand in his right hand and straightened the viewing mirror in his left. The viewing mirror was an invention he and Madame Pompfree were working on together. Harry had come up with the idea when attempting to explaining muggle X-rays and CAT scans.
Due to the use of potions and charms wizards seldom had to preform surgeries. Problems arose when wizards did require more complex, or subtle, medical procedures. Wizarding diagnostics were sorely primitive. Oddly in a Wizarding hospital one was more likely to die from appendicitis than a dark curse. Curses were easily traced and had counter curses, where as general healing charms only went so far to cure natural disease. Wizards had no access to muggle imaging and diagnostic equipment. If a person was suspected of internal injuries or disease the only way wizards had to fix the problem was cut them open and hope to fine the problem in an exploratory surgery before the patient passed away. They also had no concept of genetic diseases, blood work, transfusions, or many other common muggle medical practices.
Harry vowed that he would change this. He may not be a pureblood, but he was the heir of two of the most influential houses in the Wizarding world, the Potters and the Blacks. He was also The Boy Who Lived, and although he had never wanted nor used his celebrity for personal gain, he would for this. He would be a healer and he would save lives...if he survived long enough to do so.
Focusing back on his viewing mirror, which acted much like a muggle video camera and MRI combined. He was able to view into the patient's body without opening them up. He was currently working on creating a large mirror that could view the whole body at once, but for now had only perfected a smaller model. The largest obstacle that they had run into thus far was that the operator had to control the mirror them self in order to focus it properly, which meant that they had to do magic with both hands simultaneously. Harry was nearly ambidextrous, allowing him to pick this up much more quickly than Madam Pompfree had. He attributed this to his Quiddich training, where he would force himself to practice catching the snitch with both his left and right hands while steering his broom with the other.
As he started magically stitching the last portion of the internal wound Harry felt his mind pulled away from his task yet again. He was momentarily consumed by a feeling of utter hopelessness and fear, which was quickly replaced with a bone deep sense that something within him was missing. This had been happening with alarming frequency over the last few months and it was causing Harry a good deal of stress. He had no idea where these feelings were coming from, but he often had to fight the urge to go hunting for something. Although what that something was he didn't have a clue. It was making focusing difficult, which was not convenient when one was trying to study for school, practice medi-wizardry, and read every defensive and dark arts textbook in the library.
"Harry Dear, are you quite alright?"
Harry was snapped out of his troubled thoughts and quickly placed his final stitch and banished the detached appendix. At least he was able to preform the entire surgery with magic without ever having to open up the cadaver. If it had be a living human being his distraction could have caused serious complications.
"I am sorry Madame Pompfree. I don't know what is wrong with me lately!" Harry sighed frustratedly.
Madam Pompfree patted his shoulder, "There, there, dear. Nothing to be bothered by. Everyone gets distracted occasionally. Have you been getting enough rest? Do we need to cut our sessions back?"
Harry rubbed his eyes, "No, ma'am. I am getting plenty of sleep. I have just been having these strange, awful...feelings."
"Why don't you come into my office and we can talk about it over a cuppa?" She smiled warmly. She had become such a comforting presence in Harry's life he decided to take her up on her offer. Maybe telling someone about these episodes would ease his mind.
"Thank you, I think I would like that."
A few minutes later had Harry and his mentor sitting in her cozy office in to arm chairs by a crackling fire. Harry sipped at his mint tea and relaxed into the welcoming cushions. Madame Pompfree looked him over with a discerning eye before starting, "So, tell me about these feelings Harry."
"Well," Harry thought about it a moment, "I guess it started over the summer. Out of the blue I will be overcome by fear, or loneliness, or anger, or sadness. It only lasts for a second, sometimes less, but afterwords I am always left with a sense of loss...like part of me is missing and I am supposed the find it. It feels so strong sometimes I find myself starting to stand, or leave wherever I am to start looking. Sometimes I feel like I am on the verge of a panic attack or something. Like if I don't start looking right away I am going to fall apart. The weirdest part is that these emotions, the sad ones, they don't feel like mine...if that makes any sense."
Harry looked down at his hands, not wanting to see what Madam Pompfree thought of his issues. Would she think him unfit to be a mediwizard? Would she call a halt to their training? He loved his mediwizard training, even more than he loved Quiddich. It made him feel whole and accomplished like nothing else did.
A clock on the mantel clicked away in the silence that Harry's statement had left and after a few minutes without a response from Madame Pompfree Harry couldn't stand it anymore and looked up at her. His mentor seemed lost in thought as she stared into the crackling flames. A puzzled frown marred her features, but no look of condemnation was present, which made Harry relax slightly.
When she did speak the sudden sound of her voice in the stillness made Harry jump. "How old are you now Harry?"
"I turned sixteen this past summer, about two months ago."
"I thought so, but that is odd..." She trailed off, back into silent contemplation.
Harry tried to relax while he waited for her to resurface. He still felt the need to go looking for...something. It was like an itch under his skin urging him to scour the earth until he found his missing piece.
"Harry Dear, are you sexually active?"
Harry choked on his tea and spent the next minute coughing and red faced, "Wh...what?"
"Are you sexually active? No need to be embarrassed dear." She repeated serenely.
Harry felt his face flame even hotter as he shook his head no.
"And this urge that you have to search out something...has it been getting stronger as time goes on."
"Yes ma'am." Harry managed through his embarrassment.
"Hummm, very odd indeed. Well Harry, I have a theory, but I can not confirm that this is the true issue since there are some inconsistencies in your case."
Harry sat up strait, eager to hear what she had come up with.
"Every decade or so we have a student come into a creature inheritance while attending school. Are you aware of creature inheritances?" Madame Pompfree was in full lecture mode, which prompted Harry to respond as he usually did during their mediwizard lessons.
"A creature inheritance is when a witch or wizard with creature lineage comes of age on their seventeenth birthday. On this day they may inherit a few of the abilities of their creature ancestor. This is most commonly seen in France where the Veela and Wizarding populations live in close proximity and bonding is frequent. Fleur would be an example of this. She is a quarter veela and on her seventeenth birthday she inherited a slight allure. Although it is very weak compared to the strength of a full Veela."
"Very good Harry," Madame Pompfree beamed, "Have you heard of a soul-bond yet?"
Harry shook his head, "No ma'am."
"In very rare instances magical creatures share soul-bonds with a true soulmate. This is the mate that they are destined to spend their life with. Occasionally when a Hogwarts student comes into a creature inheritance it is found that they are soul-bound to another creature."
Harry had a sinking feeling in his stomach, "I don't have any creature blood in me though, do I?"
"No, not that I am aware of, no. But in extremely rare instances a powerful human is found to have a soul-bond with a magical creature. I believe that this is what is happening to you, Harry. I believe that you have a true soulmate. It is a rare and precious gift to have a soul-bond with another being."
"But I am only sixteen. Didn't you say that you didn't feel a soul-bond until you are seventeen?"
That puzzled frown crossed, "That is the part that isn't quite adding up. I have never heard of a case where a soul-bond has been felt before a seventeenth birthday. Although there may be a few signs before coming of age, such as your inclination to remain a virgin for your mate..."
"I haven't been...abstaining because of that." Harry interrupted, blushing to his roots again.
"It is a subconscious instinct, dear. Also depending on you and your mate's personalities you may have also done some posturing or showing off to them, if you have met them yet that is."
"Ummm, I don't think I have... Are you sure I even have a soulmate? Couldn't this all just be coincidence?"
Madame Pompfree smiled warmly, "Of course I may be mistaken, but I doubt it."
Harry groaned a little and slouched back in his chair, "Why me?! Why is it always me?"
"Harry, dear, this is a good thing. If you do share a soul-bond with someone you have the opportunity to feel one of the deepest connections possible to share with another. As soon as you recognize your mate you will immediately feel grounded and content."
Harry had had a lot of practice absorbing life changing information, but this was still a difficult news to take in.
"Umm, Madame Pompfree, what if my...mate...what if she... I mean to say I am... I can't...girls..." Harry stopped and hung his head his first time trying to explain that he was gay and he couldn't even get the words out.
"My, my Harry, you are a homosexual?" Harry nodded, looking up at his Mentor of the last three years. "Never would have guessed, even after working so closely with you. I do wonder if your mate shall be male then. I have never heard of homosexual soulmates." Madame Pompfree looked curious rather than disgusted, which Harry took as a good sign.
"So you don't mind?"
"Can say that it is my business. But it is not an easy path, dear, not easy at all." Madame Pompfree sighed.
Harry shrugged, it wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter no matter what now that he seemed to have a secret soulmate hiding about. "But what if it is a girl and..."
"Nonsense, this person contains a matching piece of your soul. You will be perfect for each other in every way imaginable. Even if it is someone you have known for years as soon as your souls recognize each other you will find an instant companion. It is said that the love of a soul-bonded pair is the strongest there is." It was a little off putting how the usually businesslike mediwitch was suddenly gushing like a romance novel.
"Ok. But if it can be anyone how do I know if I have found them."
"I suppose you will know when the time is right. As it usually becomes apparent when you come of age your case may be unique. Also because of the sadness that seems to be emanating through your soul-bond something may be deeply troubling your mate. I would follow your instincts in this case. But Harry, do try to stay out of trouble."
Harry gave her a sardonic smile, "Somehow it always seems to find me, regardless!"
Madame Pompfree laughed, looking over at the clock, "Oh, look at the time, well past curfew. I shall have to send you back with a note!"
That night in his bed Harry's head was filled with a combination of wonder and dread at the idea of a soulmate. By the time light started to appear on the horizon Harry had accepted since there was no way around it he would try to make the most of the situation. A small bubble of hope had grown in his chest that finally he would find someone to love who would truly love him back.
Another month past at Hogwarts. Harry was have more frequent episodes where he would feel the terror that his soulmate seemed to constantly be consumed by. Harry was increasingly conserned about his soulmate, whoever they may be. He no longer cared if they were male or female, he just wished to help and protect them. He was no closer, however, to figuring out who it was. Harry had the growing sensation that he wasn't seeing something that was right in front of him. It was exceedingly frustrating.
It was the day before Halloween and everyone seemed to be even more excited than usual. The Halloween Feast was to be followed by a scary movie marathon in the great hall featuring classic muggle movies. Ron had blushingly asked Hermione to accompany him to the movies, which meant that they would probably be snogging the whole time which made it even less appealing to Harry. He would probably just spend the night in his bed waiting for the horrible visions Voldemort was sure to send him. It was Halloween after all, he always had big plans for Halloween.
Harry escaped the common room, where all anyone could talk about were the next day's festivities, and decided to visit Hagrid before curfew. He made his way down to his friends hut and spent an hour discussing Hagrid's latest project. This, of course, led to a little jaunt into the forbidden forest so that Hagrid could show Harry the pond where he was breeding a large frog with fangs and little wings, that as of yet were too weak to heft the pudgy bodies off the ground. By the time they returned to the grounds Harry realized he had once again missed curfew. A quick note from Hagrid and Harry was rush back to the castle.
Harry had just made it to the bottom of the front steps when a wave of agony so severe it took him to his knees. He was overwhelmed with terror and hopelessness that Harry could never have even imagined. As the feelings lifted Harry knew, without a doubt that his mate was in serious trouble and that if he didn't find them right away something terrible was going to happen. The only issue that he now had was that he had no idea how to find them.
Harry concentrated on the feelings that he got from his mate. He drew in upon himself, mentally probing his magic. After a few moments he seemed to find a thread of magic that felt different. Focusing on that feeling Harry drew his wand.
He closed his eyes and whispered, "Point me!"
When he opened his eyes his wand was pointing inside the castle. Harry took off at a run, following the spell and hoping that his mate was truly in the castle.