CHAPTER NINE
A/N: So this has taken forever, I'm aware. Profuse apologies. Life sort of got in the way of my updating schedule. Either way I hope you enjoy this instalment. It's the penultimate.
It was about a week later, when Albus woke up in St. Mungo's hospital. He wasn't sure what was happening, what was going on.
He recognised the room immediately; it was the same one he'd spent months in before Christmas. He almost groaned as soon as he saw it but quickly decided that anything was better than Azkaban. This time was different from his first spell in the small room because the restraints hadn't been replaced. He was perfectly free to move about as he pleased… In comparison, his situation currently didn't actually seem that dismal.
Albus drew a breath and coughed instantly. His throat felt like it was made of hard, unvarnished wood and his head throbbed like a drum.
"Albus!" He heard a shriek and then saw a shock of ginger hair flying towards him. Of course it was Rosie. He was almost surprised to see her; she hadn't been allowed to visit him in Azkaban. "You're awake!" She said, as if this were some miracle. "We've been so worried," she gasped, fumbling around his bed. "I thought you'd never wake up…" He flustered tone hid a definite hint of fear.
"Bloody hell Rosie… How long have I been out for? And when did that moron Dawkins let me out of Azkaban?" His head began to spin out of focus as he tried to concentrate on his cousin.
"D-Don't you remember?" Her face was concerned; plastering a look of terrified confusion.
Albus just shrugged.
Rosie paused. She was scared, that much was very clear. She hadn't expected Albus to wake up so clueless. He looked dead; as if he'd somehow managed to leave his essence lying in his pit of an Azkaban cell, whilst his body lay here, empty.
She gulped and hurriedly changed the subject. "Your Dad came to get you out a week ago, the Minister finally overruled Dawkins." She broke off, as if she was struggling to say the rest. "They said you were conscious but… it was horrible. I wasn't allowed to see you until hours later but you were still screaming and crying and… and I could hear you it was…" Her voice gave out from underneath her, as tears slowly started to stream from her eyes.
Albus didn't say anything for a moment. He lay silent; taking in the image of his sobbing cousin. He didn't join in the crying; those days had long since passed. He sighed. "Rosie, I've been screaming and crying for the best part of the last month. It's hardly a new development." His voice croaked a hoarse quality, as if proving his point.
"That place…" she muttered. "What happened in there?"
"I went mad," Albus said, shrugging slightly. That was all he was going to say.
Rosie paused. "At least it's over now. They're not going to take you back again."
"Promise?"
"Promise." Rosie grabbed his hand firmly and smiled.
Albus flinched the second their hands made contact.
Rosie's face fell. Silently, she brought her hand back, careful not to look Albus in the eye. "They're gonna let you home soon you know?" She said, almost desperate for a change of topic.
"Really?" Albus looked genuinely surprised. After so many months of disappointment it seemed too good to be true
"As soon as you're feeling better things will be back like they were before. You can come back to school; we've only got until July left!"
"I don't even know what month it is." Albus said, smiling half-heartedly. It was like they were both making a hopeless effort to maintain conversation… Things had changed. Things were harder now… Albus had changed. He learnt things in prison…. Things no eleven year old should learn…
Rose just looked at him sympathetically. "It's February. You've been in Azkaban for about six weeks."
"Bloody hell, " Albus cursed. Then he paused. "Where's Dad?" He asked, his voice hardening. He looked around the room, searching for something that clearly wasn't there.
Rose bit her lip. "He had to work Al…"
Albus didn't freak out, or explode into a fit of anger. He'd save that for later. Now he just groaned and rolled his eyes. "Typical, I could be dying and he has to work."
"Albus, I'm sure…"
He just glared at her. "Don't make excuses for him."
Rosie just sighed. "He loves you, Al, you do know that?"
Albus didn't answer. He slumped his head down on his pillow and breathed deeply.
"I'll go down to main reception and send and owl," Rose muttered softly. "He'll come straight away… I'm sure he will."
"Alright then. Be quick though."
"Professor McGonagall… I got your note… I came straight away. What's wrong? Is this about Albus?"
James Potter stood in the entrance to McGonagall's office, looking extremely worried. He held a rolled up piece of paper in his left hand; the note which had summoned him to McGonagall's office. It was crumpled around a clasped hand. His hand was scrunching it tight; crushing it with frustrated anticipation.
"Mr Potter," McGonagall said softly, noting his desperation. "Come in and sit down, if you will."
"Yeah, sure," he said uncertainly. His face was screwed up with anxiety and his heart thumped, as he rushed to sit down in the wooden chair opposite her desk. "Is this about Albus?" He repeated, eyeing the headmistress almost desperately.
"Yes; I have some news for you…" McGonagall started, before she was cut off by more of James' hysterics.
"What happened to him!? What the hell ore could the Ministry…"
"Mr Potter!" McGonagall snapped, sternly. "Will you please let me finish and you can insult the Ministry of Magic afterwards, if you so wish?"
James nodded, though still looking apprehensive.
"The Minister had released Albus from Azkaban."
James was speechless. His mouth gaped open but words refused to proceed.
McGonagall smiled, deciding to continue whilst James caught his breath. "He's currently in St. Mungo's being nursed back to full health. It seems his stay in Azkaban had a far worse effect on him than anybody could have predicted. After that, he will be allowed to go home."
James finally managed to choke out a word: "Why?"
"I'm not sure of the technicalities but the team assigned to his case managed to develop a suppressant for his power."
"Is he alright?" James said, as his eyes brimmed with tears. He couldn't quite believe it was true.
"He's been asleep ever since he got to the hospital but I've been told he should awake within a couple of days."
"And mentally?" The words were almost impossible to form.
McGonagall sighed. "I'm not going to lie, Mr Potter, Azkaban effected your brother hard. He's not going to be the same but right now we have to focus on the positives. He's alive and he's going home."
"Can I…" James hesitated. "Can I go and see him… please?" His face pleaded with her and his eyes seemed to echo a whole year of despair in that one moment.
McGonagall scowled. "Well it's not in school policy, but… I think I can make an exception, given your circumstances."
James' face lit up. "Thankyou!"
"But…" McGonagall lifted a finger and looked sternly at him. "I want to see better progress on your school work when you return. Do we have a deal?"
James nodded, without even a trace of reluctance.
"You have a week."
It took James barely five minutes to get his belongings together. He didn't take all that much; just the things he would need the most: A few toiletries, changes of clothes and a stack of parchment. He was excited; over the moon for what seemed to be the first time since September. His body was buzzing, almost in disbelief.
Of course, he wouldn't be able to leave until McGonagall had received permission from his father by owl, but James knew that wouldn't take long. Maybe a few hours at most. It was lucky that he didn't have any lessons left today; he couldn't stand trying to concentrate whilst waiting. The suspense would have killed him; it would have been unbearable. As it was, the wait in the common room wouldn't be pleasant.
As he sat down by one of the tables, he pulled out a roll of parchment and began to write upon it. It felt like at this point, this moment of waiting, that everything he'd felt since September was finally coming to the surface. All the anger, the hate, the hope and desperation. Every moment of pain and anguish was brimming through him in that moment, coursing through his veins. It seemed bittersweet; everything was finally coming to an end. Well it seemed that way anyway. Maybe Albus wasn't cured. Maybe they'd still have problems. But things were looking up now, right? There was light at the end of the tunnel.
He wasn't sure what he was writing for, or if he'd even end up showing it to anyone. It helped though, somehow. He wrote everything; everything that had happened since September and how it had made him feel. It felt like closure.
It was after about ten minutes, when he saw Molly walking down from her dormitory, with her usual gaggle of friends. They were heading for the portrait hole.
"Molly!" He called, without really thinking what he was doing.
She looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. When she saw James, her face lit up and she quickly made her way over, motioning for the rest of her gang to leave her.
"What is it?" She said softly, sitting down opposite to her cousin.
"It's… I thought you should know… Albus is going home soon. They think he's doing a lot better."
"James! That's fantastic news!" Molly smiled. "See, I told you everything was going to be okay, didn't I? How's everything going with school?"
"Getting there," James nodded. "And… thanks for helping me out. I needed a kick up the arse."
"Well I'm just glad Albus is alright now."
"Yeah," James agree, his voice sounding hoarse.
"Me too."
In all fairness to Rosie, and indeed Harry, Albus' father had turned up to the hospital, barely minutes after the letter was sent. He had received two letters actually. The first had been from Rosie and the second from McGonagall. He was slightly reluctant to let James of any school, considering his recent lack of progress but decided to let him come anyway. School work was a problem for another day.
Albus and Rosie were talking awkwardly when Harry finally arrived. It was a far different scene than he was used to… Rosie wasn't on the bed this time; hugging her cousin like the best friends they were… she was on the visitor's stool today. She sat beside the bedside with her hands in her lap looking… completely hopeless. Albus was lying on his back, looking up at the ceiling; not even making eye contact. He spoke every now and again but the conversation was tense and disjointed. It wasn't like things always had been. Thing had changed.
Harry coughed slightly as he walked in, deliberately grabbing their attention. Albus looked up instantly; he whipped his head around, looking exultant for a moment at the sight of Harry… the look disappeared almost instantly. It turned into something conflicted; happiness mixed with genuine surprise and burning anger.
"Dad," Albus said with a fairly neutral tone.
Silence.
Rosie looked between the two of them, biting her lip at the anxiety of the situation. Hurriedly, she muttered something about getting something to eat and disappeared.
Harry could barely muster up the words to answer. "H-How are you feeling?" He stuttered.
"Urm… okay I suppose," Albus replied, his voice a little hoarse. Whether that was from illness or anger, Harry wasn't really sure. Harry couldn't even put his finger on what made Albus so angry… there were so many possibilities… so many times he'd let his son down.
Harry cautiously rested himself down, awkwardly on the edge of Albus' bed. He sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable as he looked into his son's eyes. They were his eyes. Lily's eyes.
"Albus, I think we need to talk."
Albus looked up, showing his face for what seemed to be the first real time since Christmas. It had changed so much, in such a short space of time. It was gaunt and sunken, as if something had died inside him. Almost as if every possible hope for happiness was far gone. The skin around his eyes was stained and wrinkled and his emerald eyes looked far older than their years. They were endless, as if looking too hard would suck you into a bottomless pit of sadness. Experience.
Albus had changed. He wasn't shy and innocent anymore; he was distraught, broken and shattered.
Harry wasn't going to get his son back now. He was too far gone. There would always be a part of him in that Azkaban cell; the part everyone loved most about him. His innocence was gone and with it any hope of the son everybody had known before this hellish nightmare had begun.
"What is it Dad?" Albus asked, his voice unnaturally cold and brittle. It was an unfamiliar sound that sent shivers racing down Harry's spine.
"You hate me."
It wasn't a question.
Albus didn't reply.
Pause.
"I've failed you son, I realise that…"
Still nothing.
"Albus… speak to me. Please?"
"What do you want me to say?" Albus asked, his face hardened with resentment. There were no tears anymore; they had long since dried up. The Dementors had taken them away from him. He couldn't afford to feel anymore.
"I don't know… cry, shout, scream at me… just… don't give me that look Albus, I'm sorry…" Harry' jaw quivered and his jaw welled up.
"What's happened is over, Dad. Crying and screaming won't change anything."
"You… you've grown up so much, y'know that?"
In any other context that would have been a good thing.
Albus just blinked and said, solemnly: "I had to."
Another meeting.
Two hours had passed since Harry had visited the hospital ward. He was back in the Ministry now, once again carrying his wife on his arm. Ginny surprised him sometimes. She was holding up so well; she was his rock. It seemed like she took everything in her stride.
He loved his wife. That much was clear to any onlooker. Sure, they'd had their ups and downs, like any couple. They hadn't spoken for months after the war but they were a unit now.
Today they had to work out the logistics of Albus' antidote and the practicality of him going to Hogwarts. It was important; it would decide whether or not he'd be able to go.
As could be expected, Minerva McGonagall was among the number of people sat around the table today. She was apparently missing some important business at the school to be here today, a face which Harry greatly appreciated. Finally, somebody was on his side.
Amongst the others were the team that Harry saw last time, Dawkins and the Minister. Harry was hoping Dawkins wouldn't be too much of a problem.
"We are meeting today to discuss the matter of Albus' treatment," Taylor began, looking around at the other members of the team.
"We've encountered a small problem," one of the team members piped up.
"Go on," Harry ushered, anxiously.
"Well, as you well know, the potion we've concocted acts as a suppressant, rather than getting rid of the magic. The problem with this, is that the magic will eventually get to a point where there's too much being supressed…"
"So what?" Ginny asked. "It'd… explode?"
"So that means we could still have a transformation on our hands, despite your so called 'antidote'?" Harry's voice was laced with anger.
"Not necessarily," another blonde-haired wizard said, joining the conversation. "We suggest that Albus is put in controlled conditions every six weeks or so and placed under an induced transformation… Probably every six weeks by our calculations. It would prevent the situation getting to harmful levels."
Harry's jaw dropped.
"You can do that?" Ginny frowned. "'Induce' a transformation?"
"We're pretty sure we can," a healer replied, "With the correct potions of course. We're sure this would prevent any unexpected outbreaks. Just as long as these situations were controlled…"
"You mean lock him up?"
The healer squirmed. "I was trying not to put it like that… think of the benefits though; Albus can live a practically normal life every other day." The healer looked pleadingly at Harry.
"Well we don't really have a choice, do we?" Harry shrugged.
"Well than," McGonagall said, butting in to the conversation. "I think now would be an excellent time to discuss Albus' options for next year."
"The Ministry aren't happy with Albus attending Hogwarts," Taylor said reproachfully. "But Minerva believes if certain… precautions… are taken, then his attendance is perfectly fine."
"I think you'll recall, Minister, that a similar situation has been encountered before at Hogwarts."
"Oh really?"
"Remus Lupin…" Harry answered the question. On reflection, it was only when McGonagall mentioned it that he began to see the parallels. The situations were almost identical. Everything suddenly started to fall into place. "We can use the shrieking shack again… just, just like before… People will think it's the ghosts. It's obvious."
"We were thinking something along those lines, yes." McGonagall said. "We will have to reinforce the Shack with some strong magic, but I believe, like you, that it will serve its purpose well. It's going to be difficult for all of us. But for Albus' sake I think we should make the effort. He deserves a fair shot at life."
"Thank you," Harry said. "Albus will… well the news will be hard but I'm sure he'll agree to this arrangement."
"We're not going to induce Albus until he starts Hogwarts in September."
"Wait… why?" Harry said, confused. Surely seven months is far too long to wait…
"Albus was given a particularly strong dose of antidote before he was released, to prevent his dreams triggering anything… It's not practical to use that large a dose on a regular basis… it would play havoc with his immune system. The dosage we gave him will cover until September… We don't want to try and induce earlier in case the dosage was too strong."
Silence.
"Well, we should go and talk to Albus then," Ginny said, her voice suddenly running cold.
The room was absolutely silent as Ginny and Harry walked in. Rose had left now; it was getting late in the day. There wasn't all that much for her to stay for anyway. Albus was awake but he didn't acknowledge their arrival. He lay absolutely still, as if in a trance. Harry couldn't tell if he was ignoring them to be rude, or if the act of moving to acknowledge their presence was simply too painful in his condition. He knew which one he'd rather it be.
"Albus?" Ginny called, her voice ever sweet.
Albus grunted half-heartedly. His voice sounded rough and gravelly.
"How are you feeling?" Harry asked, tentatively. They still weren't on the best of terms.
"Shit." Albus said, shortly.
At any other point they would have both scolded him for his language, but neither of them could really bring themselves to do it. He looked lost and absolutely defeated. How could they possibly make the situation any worse? But they had to. They couldn't afford to hold things off any longer.
"Have you improved at all?" Ginny asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed.
Albus shrugged. "Maybe a little."
"That's good." Ginny sighed and lifted her hand to her son's brow, gently stroking his brown hair out of the way. She saw him wince and grit his teeth at the contact but he had the grace to not say anything. Her heart dropped as soon as she saw his face. He was never like this before. It hurt her to see her son like this… so detached… so broken. She recoiled her hand and glanced at her husband, who smiled; non-committal.
"What do you want?" Albus asked, making no attempt to hide the cold edge to his voice. It cut deep into Ginny. It was like Albus didn't even care anymore. It was like he had given up on everything he had once held so dead to him. Albus had always loved his family so much. The Dementors had taken that from him. She hardly recognised her son any more.
"We have some news for you. Did you remember that we had a meeting this morning? We told you about it, do you remember?"
Albus nodded.
"Well Professor McGonagall was there and we had a little talk about what you're going to do in September.
"Well?" Albus asked, ushering her to the point.
"There's good news and there's bad news dear."
Albus rolled his eyes. "Isn't there always?"
Ginny hesitated, whilst Albus gritted his teeth.
"Mum, so far in less than a year I've turned into some deranged lunatic, killed a man, spent three months strapped to a hospital bed, been told I'm the spawn of Voldemort and quite literally lived in a place worse than hell. I think I can take whatever you've got for me."
The grimace on Ginny's face was far from pleasant. Nevertheless she went on to explain the situation. "Well, Professor McGonagall has agreed to let you come to Hogwarts in September next year? Isn't that good news?"
If she was expecting a reaction she didn't get one
She gritted her teeth and continued. "The bad news is to do with the Potion you're taking."
"Why, has it stopped working?" Albus asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
"No dear, I'm sure it's working fine. We just have to discuss the logistics of it a little."
"It's not a permanent solution, is it?" Albus guessed.
Ginny nodded, gingerly.
"What does that mean..?" Albus' voice cracked slightly. "I'm not going back am I? Don't tell me I'm going back…"
For the first time since he'd woken up Harry final started to hear some emotion in his son's voice: fear. The fear was strong; it surpassed everything else you could sense in the tone. The sounds of it in Albus' voice almost made Harry shake with terror himself. The cold voice sounded like the ringing sound of screams, echoing off the Azkaban walls. He could hear the sound of Azkaban burning through his son's words.
Albus voice cracked again. "Don't make me go again."
Ginny went back to stroking her son's forehead, this time with no hesitation from Albus. Her heart jumped a little when she realised he wasn't resisting any more. "Don't worry Albus, I'm not going to let you go back there again…" She hesitated. "We aren't going to let you go back there again."
Albus smiled briefly, but slid back into a frown almost instantly. "So what's happening? What are they going to do to me?"
"Well, basically the drug that you're taking acts as a suppressant, rather than actually getting rid of the excess magic that makes you prone to… well… you know…"
"So what? It's going to build up? What difference does that stupid potion make then?" He raised his voice, anger and bitterness echoing through. It almost made Ginny jump how quickly he jumped from peace to anger. "I'm still going to change, aren't I? I'm still going to kill people, aren't I?"
Ginny gulped at the crudeness of the phrase. "Well, dear… the Ministry have proposed, starting from when you begin at Hogwarts, that every six weeks they 'induce' a transformation, to relieve the build-up in your system."
Albus was taken aback. "Since when did the Ministry want me to change?"
"Well, obviously they'd put you in a… secure location. So you couldn't hurt anybody."
"You mean they'd lock me up?" Albus' eyes darkened.
"Well… we were thinking the Shrieking Shack actually. It's… it's out of the way and there's plenty of room for you."
Albus sighed. "Well anything's better than Azkaban I suppose." Then his voice gave way again. "I'm going to go crazy… what if I turn on myself… there'd be nobody there and…"
"Shh…" Ginny interrupted with her soothing voice. "I'm not pretending it's going to be pleasant Al. I assure you, it won't be. But we don't really have to worry about that until September… so for now let's focus on getting you better and getting you home. Does that sound good to you?"
Albus nodded, tentatively.
Ginny paused. "And for what it's worth… we're sorry. We're sorry that you had to endure Azkaban… I can't begin to imagine how awful it must have been. And we're proud of you… for fighting through it. You're very brave, Albus."
Albus didn't say anything. He laid back and stared once more at the ceiling.
He sure as hell didn't feel brave.
