Dark Bonding Spell
by Healer Pomfrey
All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.
I am not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes.
Chapter 2
"Potter! Move!" Snape's voice suddenly penetrated Harry's ears and he saw Draco throwing him a smug look.
Like in a trance, Harry walked over to the front of the classroom and sat down next to Draco. "Since I want to finish our potion today, you stay here and I go and get our ingredients," Draco whispered.
"What?" Harry whispered back angrily, before he looked around and saw that everyone else had already started to get their ingredients. 'Well, seeing that I'll have to work together with Malfoy at least until the end of the school year, I'll have to act as if nothing had happened,' he mused and began to prepare the ingredients as soon as Draco returned.
Seeing that Harry contented himself preparing the ingredients, Draco began to brew the potion, and at the end of the class they had managed to brew a flawless potion. The two boys only talked when it was inevitable; however, both of them behaved civilly towards each other, knowing that they had to work together during the whole school year.
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"I'll go back to the dormitory," Harry told his friends when they reached the entrance hall.
"Aren't you going to eat anything, Harry?" Hermione asked in concern. "You already missed breakfast."
"I'm not hungry, and if I want to eat something later on, I'll call Dobby and ask him to bring me something," Harry replied, sighing.
"Are you going to miss the afternoon classes then?"
"Yes; I just have to give Malfoy the chance to take notes for me; I'm sure you understand that," Harry smirked, causing Hermione and Ron to laugh aloud.
When Professor McGonagall came to the dormitory to check on Harry, student and teacher spent some time talking to each other until the beginning of the afternoon classes.
"Wouldn't it be possible to ask Malfoy under Veritaserum what the spell was?" Harry asked, wondering why the teachers were planning to search the library for an explanation instead of just questioning the person, who cast the spell.
"We could do that, but Mr. Malfoy doesn't know anything about the spell. He was ordered by his father to cast the spell, but he is neither aware of the effects nor of a method to cancel them."
"How can you be so sure that it's true what he says?" Harry enquired incredulously.
McGonagall smirked. "We know that for sure, because Professor Snape used Legilimency on Mr. Malfoy and confirmed that he told us the truth."
"So Snape knows everything about the matter, doesn't he? How could he pair me with Malfoy after all that happened? Especially since he seems to intend to keep the pairings up until the end of the school year," Harry mumbled.
The professor let out a long sigh. "You see, Harry, everyone has his own methods. Perhaps while we're speaking here, Mr. Malfoy is complaining to Professor Snape about the unfair punishment that he has to take notes for you until further notice."
"That's true," Harry had to admit.
"All right, Harry, I have to go and teach my next class. Considering that your fever is a degree higher than in the morning, I want you to stay in bed and rest. If you have problems, please call Dobby and tell him to fetch me," McGonagall said, adjusting a cool cloth on Harry's forehead before she stood up.
"Thank you Professor," Harry replied and lazily closed his eyes.
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Like she had promised Ron in the morning, Professor McGonagall joined the students in the library to search for the spell Draco had used against Harry after the afternoon classes. Neville and Luna helped as well, while Ginny returned to the common room in order to look after Harry. However, until dinnertime they couldn't find any spell that was even similar to the one they were looking for.
When they met in the Headmaster's office after dinner, Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "There are two possibilities. Illigo Morscenam is Latin and means 'Bonding to a Death Eater.' I suppose that either there is an ancient spell containing the word Illigo in combination with an expression pointing to the dark side instead of the word morscenam, or Voldemort has completely invented the spell in our time."
"If he calls me before we find anything out, I will try to gain some information," Snape promised, turning in his head the potions, which he still had to finish for the Dark Lord.
The others agreed to meet in the library again the next day, and the meeting was adjourned.
"Bonding to a Death Eater?" Harry asked incredulously. "Don't tell me they bonded me to Voldemort. Oh no, he's not a Death Eater, thank Merlin. But..."
"It's all right, Harry," Hermione replied calmingly. "So far, we haven't found anything out, and I'm sure Professors Dumbledore and Snape will somehow be able to help you cancel the effects of the spell."
"I hope so," Harry mumbled, trying to dismiss the dark thoughts for the time being.
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In the morning, Harry only attended the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, glad to see Remus teaching again. However, half through the class the teacher turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, I'd like you to leave now, since we're going to practise and I can't let you practise while you're ill." Seeing Harry's upset expression, he added, "I'm sure that you're already able to do these spells anyway, knowing how you taught your group last year. On a different note, I'd like to speak with you after classes, provided that you feel well enough to come to my office."
"All right Professor," Harry replied and left the classroom, worrying what Remus could want to speak with him about. After his Charms class in the afternoon, he dragged himself to the teacher's office, feeling his stomach doing flip-flops as he knocked at the door.
"Hello Harry," Remus greeted him friendly, causing Harry to feel extremely relieved at the gentle tone. 'Maybe he's not angry at me,' he thought hopefully.
"Hello Professor. I'm glad that you're back, and I'm so sorry about what happened... with Sirius," he added hesitantly.
Remus looked at the boy in front of him in confusion. "Sorry? Harry, I don't understand you. You don't have anything to be sorry about..."
"I have," Harry interrupted him vehemently. "It's my fault that Sirius died."
"No Harry, it isn't," Remus replied firmly. "He was the one who went the Ministry, although we all told him not to go. Please forget that idea immediately. It's completely wrong. It is not your fault. What I wanted to speak about with you is something else though. What exactly is wrong with you, if you don't mind me asking?"
Harry sighed and told Remus the story about the unknown spell Draco had cast on him. "All right Harry; thanks for telling me," Remus said thoughtfully. "I will join the others in the library and help search for the spell, although I assume that it might be something Voldemort invented just for this purpose. Harry, let me know if there is anything I can do for you. I know that I cannot replace Sirius, at least not officially, but if you're ever in need of a godfather, I'll be here for you. And now you go back to bed, and I will do some research."
"Thanks Professor," Harry replied gratefully, turning to the door.
"Even if I'm your professor again, in private you may still call me Remus," the teacher gently told the boy and rose from his chair as well.
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In the evening, Harry woke up to a cool hand on his forehead. When he lazily opened his eyes, he saw Pomfrey sitting on the edge of his bed.
"Hello Madam Pomfrey," he said sleepily, giving the Healer a small smile.
"Hello Mr. Potter. What have you gotten yourself into this time?" Pomfrey replied friendly, shaking her head in exasperation.
Harry mumbled something incoherent but protested vehemently when the Healer announced that she would like to take him with her to the hospital wing.
"No Madam Pomfrey, please don't. I want to attend the most important classes, and here I have my friends and everything, and it's not that anyone could catch this illness from me now, is it?"
"Well, that is certainly true, but I will not allow you to attend classes with a fever of 39 degrees," Poppy replied firmly. "Who has been looking after you? Professor Snape?"
"No; as far as I know, he only was here once. Professor McGonagall always checked on me and gave me my potions."
"All right; if she agrees to help me looking after you, because I might not be able to come here so often, you may stay here," Poppy finally gave in and spelled a few potions straight into Harry's stomach, causing him to drift back to sleep within seconds.
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At the same time, Professor McGonagall, Remus, Hermione, Luna, Neville, and Ron were sitting in the restricted section of the library doing research in order to help Harry.
"Here is something," Hermione suddenly spoke up. "Illigo Obscuritas it says."
"Is there an explanation?" Ron asked impatiently.
"Yes, but it's written in Latin; so it's not so easy to read," Hermione replied in exasperation.
"Show it to me," McGonagall and Remus said simultaneously, reaching for the huge book that was lying on the desk in front of Hermione.
The two teachers engrossed themselves in the reading, and finally McGonagall shook her head in exasperation. "That can't be true! Let's go and show this to Professor Dumbledore."
Together, the group left the library and climbed the stairs leading to the Headmaster's office. The students observed worriedly how the twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes vanished completely. "My poor boy," the professor mumbled more to himself than to the others, before he elaborated, "If I understand this correctly, the spell makes Harry ill until he fulfils a certain condition. This condition is described as having feelings of trust, friendship, and care towards a person of the dark side, in Harry's case for a Death Eater. Moreover, these feelings have to be mutual."
"A Death Eater?" Ron blurted out but was completely ignored.
"Severus, I need you here in my office," the Headmaster shouted into the fireplace, causing the Potions Master to step through within seconds.
"Did you find anything out about the spell?" he queried, seeing Harry's friends in the office.
"Yes my boy," Dumbledore replied and quickly filled the teacher in, while the others were still stunned by the information he had given them a few minutes ago. "I'm sorry, my boy, but I need your help with this."
Snape's eyes widened. "You don't mean... No! Albus, no, you can't mean that! You know that I've always done what you wanted me to do, but you cannot expect me to befriend the offspring of James Potter!" he replied, and a panicked expression spread on his usually blank face.
"I'm sorry Severus, but you're the only Death Eater on the light side. Believe me, I wouldn't ask this of you, if there was any other possibility," Dumbledore said gravely.
"Apart from his outer appearance, Harry has not much in common with James. He is a lot more like Lily, who was, if I remember correctly, your best friend," McGonagall said calmingly.
"I suggest," Dumbledore continued as if Snape had already agreed, "that we move Harry into your guest room. You are well able to look after him, and both of you can get to know each other better."
"Probably Harry will prefer to remain sick than to live with the greasy git," Ron whispered to Hermione, unfortunately loud enough for the Potions Master to hear.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor for your insolence, Weasley," the professor sneered.
"Mr. Weasley, have you ever had the wizard's flu?" McGonagall enquired sternly.
"No," Ron replied in a small voice.
"Let me tell you that you'd feel absolutely horrible. Not many students would attend classes like Harry does in spite of feeling awful. I know that he won't want to live with Professor Snape, but neither does Professor Snape want to take care of Harry all the time. Nevertheless, I'm sure that he will do everything he can do to help Harry overcome his illness. Another twenty points from Gryffindor for your unfairness, and I expect a written apology from you for Professor Snape on my desk by dinnertime tomorrow."
"Yes Professor," Ron replied, throwing McGonagall an angry glare.
"Who is going to tell the boy?" Snape queried.
"I will speak with him," McGonagall replied softly. "Shall I bring him down to your quarters tomorrow after the last afternoon class?"
Snape remained pensive for a moment, before he replied, "I have a free period during the last afternoon class. I will go and get him then. Will you manage to speak with him before that?"
"Of course," McGonagall agreed, and Dumbledore dismissed the students, thanking them profoundly for their help.
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By the time McGonagall entered the Gryffindor sixth years' dormitory after a detour to the hospital wing in order to inform Poppy about the news, Harry was fast asleep from the potions he had been fed. Not wanting Harry's classmates like Ron Weasley to break the news to Harry, she unobtrusively put a spell on him that would alert her as soon as he woke up, even if it was in the middle of the night. Inwardly groaning when the alarm went off at three o'clock in the morning, she quickly threw her night robe over and stepped through her secret connecting door into the common room to get to Harry as fast as possible, casting a silencing spell around them.
"Harry," she addressed the boy in a soft voice, knowing that he was awake in spite of the fact that his eyes were closed.
"Hello Professor," the student replied in surprise. "Excuse me, but what are you doing here at this time of the night?"
"I wanted to speak with you, Harry. Are you feeling well enough?"
"Of course, Professor, what's wrong?" Harry asked anxiously, feeling from the teacher's behaviour that she didn't have good news.
"Well, the good news is that we found something out about the spell that Mr. Malfoy cast at you. The not so pleasant news is that you'll have to bond with Professor Snape in order to get rid of the effects of the spell," McGonagall explained softly.
"With Snape?" Harry asked in desperation. "Professor, is there no other way?"
"Professor Snape, Harry, and yes, I'm sorry my child. Professor Dumbledore believes that it would be the best if you stayed in Professor Snape's quarters, so that he can look after you and that you can get to know each other. I know that you don't like him," she said softly, "but that's only because you don't know him. Did you know that your mother was his best friend?"
"My Mom? His best friend? Is that true, Professor?" 'Maybe he's not too bad then,' he thought. 'But he hates me,' a voice in the back of his mind spoke up. 'He treats me worse than anyone else except for the Dursleys.'
"But why does he hate me so much then? Just because I look like my father?" he asked, still unable to believe what he had just heard.
"Don't worry too much, Harry. I'm sure Professor Snape will sooner or later realize that you resemble your mother so much more than your father," McGonagall said, gently patting the boy's arm. "Anyway, you have to try to get along with him as well as you can. And don't forget, Professor Snape won't like having a Gryffindor student live in his private quarters either, but he agreed to try to help you, because he is the only Death Eater on the light side. He wouldn't have agreed to that if he hated you."
Suddenly a thought crossed Harry's mind. "How long do I have to stay with Professor Snape?"
McGonagall sighed. "Harry, I'm not sure if the spell will lose its effects, if you just get along and have feelings of friendship and trust towards Professor Snape, or if you have to remain close to each other on a permanent basis."
Harry groaned in annoyance, letting himself sink back onto his pillow. "Thanks Professor for telling me the truth. I'm sorry that you had to get up in the middle of the night."
"You're welcome Harry, and don't worry; everything will be all right. We are all here, and I intend to help you, whenever there is something I can do for you. Don't hesitate to call me any time."
"Thanks," Harry mumbled, while the first tears began to run down his cheeks.
When McGonagall came back to check on Harry three hours later, he was still crying, and she noticed that his fever was considerably higher than on the previous days. She instructed him to stay in bed and made a mental note to send Poppy to check on him and give him a calming draught or a sleeping potion if necessary.
Harry wasn't able to calm down easily. 'Maybe I should just go flying and let myself crash into the ground, so that all the pain and everything will be over,' he mused in absolute desperation.
Like in a trance he scrambled out of his bed, threw his robes over his pyjamas, and grabbed his broom. Only when he flew through the open window, he noticed that it was raining cats and dogs, which didn't necessarily help to lighten his mood.
tbc...