A/n: Forgot to mention this last chap, but as this is for the Long Haul Competition, this story will be updated weekly. Unless of course I fail out of the competition. So that means weekly updates, probably scheduled for Monday. Unless RL intrudes.

Prompt: What do You Mean? (#96)

Chapter 2:

St. Mungo's

"Have they told you anything?"

Harry shook his head and looked apologetically at the tall, regal witch before him. Though he'd never met Rowena Davis, he was quite sure, he'd know her anywhere. Like her daughter, the woman was tall, slender with very pale skin and hair that was so vibrantly red, that it was shocking that such a thing be possible when the shade of red was so dark.

"How can they not know anything, it's been hours!" Rowena snapped, before turning her grey and worried eyes to Tracey's prone form on the hospital bed.

It had been three hours since Tracey passed out in the Ministry in Auror Headquarters, she'd barely been able to stay conscious for more then a few minutes at a time and those few minutes, were filled with disorientation and confusion.

At that moment, Harry looked up from where he stood leaning against a wall, as a Healer walked in. He was slightly surprised to find Padma Patil sporting the lime-green robes of St. Mungo's healers.

"What's wrong with my daughter?" Rowena demanded immediately, her icy, grey eyes narrowing on the young witch who jumped.

"Well... her magic is being drained," Padma Patil stated in uncertain tones, treading carefully as the situation, as it was now, was a bit dire. "The kind of drain is the type caused by an old geas. Has Tracey entered into any magically binding contracts that she's not upheld?"

Harry was confused while Rowena answered in the negative.

"Old geas? Contract? What do you mean? How can a- a... contract cause this?!" he questioned, unable to help his frustration.

"It's like..." Padma faltered, unsure how to explain it before her mind came up with the perfect example. "The Goblet of Fire is a very old magical object on which there is a geas, where anyone to put their names in, were entering a binding magical contract. If you had failed to participate Harry, it would have been very likely that in order to satisfy the Geas, your life would've been claimed."

"Is she going to die?" Harry asked, alarmed while Rowena paled from where she stood, clenching onto her daughter's hand.

"If we cannot stop the drain... it is very likely," Padma admitted with a grimace, her dark eyes filling with sincere regret as she looked between the two figures. For a moment, a thick silence hung in the private room where the young Auror was being treated. "But you know what is very strange? An hour or so after Tracey was admitted, another patient came in, also suffering this kind of drain. Considering how rare these kinds of contracts have become, it is highly unusual."

"Who is the other patient?" Rowena couldn't help asking as Harry lost himself in thought. In his line of work, coincidences weren't considered probable.

Padma hesitated in responding, what with patient confidentialities and all. However, one look at the expression on Harry's face, and the fact that he was an Auror and he certainly had the kind of authority to make demands for information, had Padma reconsidering.

"Professor Snape," she stated, causing Harry's brows to shoot into his hairline.

"Severus Snape?" Rowena asked, her thin brows furrowing as bells started to chime in her head.

"Yes," Padma replied. "Somehow he managed to apparate himself here, after passing out for a second time. Unfortunately, that was all we could get out of him before he passed out again. He's been unconscious since."

"You should move him and my daughter into the same room," Rowena stated, her tone vague and aloof. Padma and Harry both turned to the elder witch, but there was a far away look on her face as she absently stroked a few strands of hair from her daughter's face.

"What do you mean?" Padma asked, frowning at the highly unusual and inappropriate demand. Women and men were never put in the same rooms or wards.

"I think... they're both being affected by the same contract... and I think bringing them close to one another will stop the drain, at least for the time being," Rowena elaborated, still in the same, far away tone.

Harry and Padma exchanged a glance, both looking to the other questioningly.

"It couldn't hurt," Padma stated with a shrug, as she and the other Healers were at a complete loss as what to do.

Harry merely shrugged, by way of consent. Padma nodded her head determinedly, before turning on her heel to make arrangements.

"Do you really think that will work?" Harry asked, turning to look at Mrs. Davis.

"If it is what I believe it to be," Rowena replied with a nod of her head, before looking at Harry with a haunted look. "Though I wish for the sake of my daughter's happiness, it were anything else."

xXx

"What the hell happened?" Tracey muttered, feeling a raging headache. She tried to sit up, but was held down by a hand to her shoulder. Tracey felt her heart jump and was about to snap her eyes open and jump away from the unknown person touching her, when her ears were met by familiar tones of her mother, soothing her and telling her to take it easy.

Blinking her pale, greyish-green eyes slowly open, Tracey stared at her mother's face and groaned. "Mum? What are you doing here? Where the hell am I?"

"You're in St. Mungo's, dear. How do you feel?"

Tracey frowned, shutting her eyes and moving a hand to cradle her head. She didn't think her internment in St. Mungos boded well. Especially if her mother was present, and sounded so very concerned that she didn't even bother to rectify Tracey's language.

"Like someone aimed a bludger at my head," Tracey groaned.

"You're very lucky to be alive," another voice piped in. Tracey frowned at the vaguely familiar voice. Opening her eyes slowly once more, she squinted towards the foot of her bed where the voice came from.

Standing there, clad in hideously bright robes, was a witch with tan skin and long, inky-black hair. Eyes as dark as coals looked towards her as full lips lifted into a small smile.

"Padma Patil? You became a Healer?"

"Yes," Padma replied, in a tone that said, clearly. Tracey scowled at the Ravenclaw girl, but shoved it and her mother's hand aside.

"What happened?" she asked, trying to get up once more, this time being more slow. She ignored her mother's fussing as she sat hunched, her hair falling in her face as she cradled her head briefly in her hands.

"You experienced a magical drain, caused by an old geas of some kind," Padma replied from where she stood, hands held around a clipboard and a couple of files. "The drain has stopped, and you should be feeling well in no time. However, it is very likely that the drain will return until you have fulfilled the terms of the geas."

"Which would be?" Tracey asked with a frown, completely confused, because as far as she knew, she had not entered into any magical contracts. Especially not one which was life-threatening if she failed to comply.

"I don't know."

"Then why did it stop?" Tracey asked, her tone slightly sharp in her frustration and pain. As far as she knew, magical drains resulting from a geas didn't simply stop for no reason. Usually it meant that it was satisfied, for the time being, at least. Pacified, neutralized, were the terms usually used.

At this, Padma's eyes shifted to Tracey's right. Turning to follow her gaze, Tracey looked questioningly at her mother who was very pale, her lips in a straight-line of discomfort; her grey eyes filled with concern and even dread.

"How come the Professor isn't conscious yet?" Harry asked, startling Tracey, as she'd no idea her partner was even in the room. Whirling around, she was surprised to find him standing close to a second bed in the room.

Tracey furrowed her brow and tried to look at the other patient, but from where she sat, they were hidden from view by a small partition.

"His body doesn't quite... have youth on his side, so it will take him a little longer than Tracey to recover. However, the drain has stopped at the same time as Tracey's, so he should gain consciousness-" Padma didn't get to finish as a groan reverberated through the room.

"I'm so confused. What the hell is going on?" Tracey muttered, running her fingers through her hair before turning to Padma. "And could I get something for this bloody headache?"

"Yes of course," Padma stated, however, she didn't leave the room and instead walked over to the left side of the room to attend to her other patient.

"What's going on mum?" Tracey asked, turning around to look at her mother who she felt was acting very oddly. And what was with the look that Padma had shot to her mother? What could her mother possibly know about this?

"I think... I think that an old contract is coming into effect, but I could be wrong," her mother whispered to her in uncertain and doubtful tones, which was very out of character for the usually obnoxiously confident woman.

Tracey felt her heart start to speed up as she took in how pale her mother looked, and the somewhat panicked expression in her usually calm and collected grey eyes.

"What do you mean?" Tracey asked through gritted teeth, because her head was throbbing with pain that made it hard for her to concentrate.

"I haven't thought of if since I was a girl. I never thought-"

"Professor, you can't leave-" Padma was saying, her voice rising in alarm. Both red-heads turned to take in the scene on the other half of the room where the blankets were shoved almost violently aside and a man dressed all in black emerged. Tracey, who didn't know the day could possibly get any weirder, watched as a familiar figure straightened.

"Oh, I can assure you that I can and will, Miss Patil. You don't even know why this is happening, you think I will continue to place myself in your incompetent hands?" if Tracey wasn't familiar with the figure of the man, that dark and velvety voice was unforgettable and impossible to mistake.

Tracey was so shocked by this new revelation, her eyes wide, that she didn't even notice when her mother had moved from her side and was just in time to stop Snape from marching out of the room.

"You're not going anywhere, Severus. Not with my daughter's life in the balance," Rowena stated, using all her five feet and eleven inches of height in her favor. And while Snape was still taller, it was difficult to deny that Rowena Davis did not make for an intimidating figure, with the fire set in her eyes and the dangerous set to her regal features.

"Rowena... what are you doing here?" Snape asked, stopping in his tracks before his eyes moved towards the bed where Tracey was still sitting, completely dumb-founded. His brow furrowed as he stared at yet another of his ex-students. "Miss Davis?"

"I believe if you step one foot outside this room, you will initiate the drain again, putting not just your life in danger, but my daughter's as well," Rowena explained, causing Snape to turn back to her.

"What are you talking about, Rowena?" Snape asked with little patience.

"Has Healer Patil not explained to you the variety of drain you've experienced? And that it only stopped once you and my daughter were placed in the same room? So it stands to reason if you two part, it will start again, because being in close proximity is what has allayed the geas," Rowena explained with poorly concealed irritation with the man before her.

"What do you know?" Snape asked, eyes narrowing on the witch before him.

"I believe there is a standing contract between our families," Rowena explained through tight lips, casting a look towards Padma Patil and Harry Potter, making it clear she was not comfortable discussing this before them.

A line appeared between Snape's brows as they furrowed and a frown marred his face. Briefly, he looked towards the bed where Tracey still sat, watching with her own grey-green eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"The goblins would know then," Snape stated, his displeasure clear on his face.

Rowena nodded her head, her expression equally severe before turning to look at her daughter with sad eyes.

TBC...

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