9. Places Of The Heart, Part 1

Dobby stood in the Hogwarts kitchen, stirring a measure of oats into the flour he'd already sifted into a bowl.

He was very melancholy and had been all day, for today was Harry Potter's eighteenth birthday — would have been his eighteen birthday, if he were still alive.

Most everyone had come to accept the fact that The Chosen One was now dead, having lost his life at the hands of the evil Dark Lord.

Even so, Dobby wanted to do something to honor his beloved friend and so he'd decided to make Harry's favorite dessert — a Treacle Tart.

The small elf had just added the Golden Syrup when he heard a CRACK.

He spun around and was shocked to see his Grandmother clutching — Harry Potter?

He sprinted across the kitchen and fell to his knees, not knowing whom to embrace first. Tears filled his eyes as he proclaimed, "I'osi! It is my I'osi and she is bringing Harry Potter back to us!"

Widgen was beyond exhaustion; she managed a faint smile and then whispered, "E' A' Sum, hurry. He is being ill and needing much help. Hurry E'A' Sum … Hurry."

Dobby sprang into action without a moment's hesitation and told the assorted elves that had gathered around to go and find Professors Dumbledore and Snape and tell them what had happened and that they should go to the infirmary right away.

He told Winky to take his 'I osi' to the infirmary and that he would follow with Harry Potter. And then with the utmost of care, Dobby wrapped his arms gently around his favorite human and brought him to Madame Pomfrey.

~SH~

By the time Albus had arrived, Poppy was hard at work on the unconscious teen.

She had already cured the pneumonia but Harry was still in shock, a result of the severe drain upon his system from the disease and from traveling such a great distance in such a weakened state.

Widgen had recounted some of what had happened at the Fastness. She was now resting on a nearby bed, exhausted from the tremendous effort she'd exerted to bring them both over such a great distance.

Albus was stunned at the unexpected turn of events. He walked directly to the bed where Harry lay and stared in disbelief at the unconscious young wizard.

"Albus," Poppy's voice sounded breathy and uncharacteristically desperate. "I need your help. Talk to Dobby's Grandmother. Get more details of what happened to him. But first…" she looked up with frantic eyes. "Floo call St. Mungo's. Tell them to send a Healer immediately, someone trained in drug addiction, Opium addiction. Hurry Albus, there's no time to spare!"

Albus had never seen Poppy in such a state. "Yes, of course. I'll call right now." He turned and rushed to her office.

While Albus was in the office speaking to an official from St. Mungo's, Severus, whom had run all the way up from the Dungeons, came tearing into the infirmary and slid to a stop next to Harry's bed.

Hardly believing his own eyes, Severus stared at the supine form on the bed. Then he reached out his shaking hand and gently touched Harry's cheek.

"Severus," said Poppy. "I understand you want to be near him, but I need room to work."

Albus had just returned from the office when he heard Poppy's words. He wrapped his arm around Severus and guided him gently back away from the bed.

"I need to go and speak with Dobby's grandmother," Albus said softly. "Will you be all right?"

Severus nodded as he clenched his jaw in an attempt to try and maintain some semblance of composure.

"Very well then," Albus let go. "I'll just be a few beds away if either of you need anything."

Before he left to go speak with Widgen, the old wizard looked again at the unconscious teen then reached down and squeezed his foot gently. "Thanks be to Merlin. This is truly a miracle."

A few minutes later, Poppy brushed back a few stray hairs as she stared at the readings on her diagnostic wand. "He's stable for now," she sighed with relief. "But we're not out of the woods yet."

She called down the row of beds, "Albus, were you able to reach someone at St. Mungo's?"

"Yes. They haven't any specialists in this field; they are making further inquiries and will Floo call us as soon as they have anything to report."

"I'm not surprised. We never deal with anything of this nature." She looked to Severus, "I need to attend to Dobby's Grandmother; can you keep an eye on him?"

"What?" Severus cleared his throat. "Yes, of course."

As soon as Poppy left, Severus sat down and laid his hand gently on Harry's chest.

He gasped softly when he felt the steady heartbeat. Then he leaned forward and caressed the side of his face against that of his love and whispered in his ear, "Thank you for coming back to me. I love you. Please, don't ever leave me again."

Succumbing to the relief of Harry's return and to the tremendous sorrow that had consumed him for weeks — Severus finally released his tears.

~SH~

While Severus sat with Harry, Madame Pomfrey attended to Widgen.

The frail old elf was exhausted and her vital signs were weak but she continued to speak with Dumbledore and answered all of his questions and more.

They all listened as she told of the Opium, the injuries, the lack of food, the denial of movement and speech, and the sexual and physical manipulations. She told them of all that had happened to The Innocent, as she called him.

Severus tightened his hold on Harry's hand as he listened to the long list of atrocities the young wizard had endured, and how Voldemort had died.

Suddenly a voice called out from Poppy's office, "Helloooo, Hellooooo."

"That must be St. Mungo's," said Albus as he got up and hurried toward the office.

He returned shortly and sat next down to Widgen. "Dear lady," he spoke softly, "they've located a Healer that can help us, but he has some questions."

"I will be trying to answer all that I am knowing Sir," Widgen answered weakly.

"Would you know if the Opium was pure? And would you also possibly know how much of it Harry inhaled daily?"

"Sir, I am knowing these answers, for many times I am hearing Nianna and Venna speak of these things. Yes Sir, the Opium was pure and many times I am hearing them speak of — one gram."

Albus sighed with relief as he patted her arm gently. "Thank you dear lady, thank you. Surely Merlin himself sent you to watch over our Harry. How can we ever thank you?"

Widgen was embarrassed at the high praise being offered her from such a great wizard. She smiled shyly, "No thanks is being needed, great Sir. For I is loving him as I am loving all my Hini and A Hini."

~SH~

At approximately ten o'clock that evening, Healer Jacobs from the wizarding division of the Hospital Erasme in Brussels, Floo'd into Poppy Pomfrey's office.

Dumbledore had been waiting for him and he rose to greet the Healer upon his arrival.

Erasme was a large University hospital which had two separate detox clinics, one in the main hospital and one in the wizarding division. Healer Jacobs specialized in drug addiction and rehabilitation. Granted, the majority of his time was spent in the main clinic but there were always a couple of wizards or witches in the auxiliary clinic.

As soon as he arrived, he requested that Albus take him to see Harry immediately.

After an initial examination and reviewing Poppy's case history notes, he informed Albus that he would have to administer a nominal dose of Opium to the young wizard without any further delay.

Harry was overdue for his 'fix' and to further delay it would be detrimental to his already weakened condition.

Poppy advised that they defer to Healer Jacob's expertise, for she admittedly was out of her element. Not knowing what else to do, Albus agreed.

The teen was moved to the far end of the Infirmary and a privacy screen was set up around his bed.

After the Opium was prepared and administered, Healer Jacobs set up an IV drip of saline solution into a vein on the back of his patient's left hand. Onto this, he would be able to piggyback whatever became necessary during the withdrawal process. Presently, that happened to be a bag of electrolytes.

It was now close to midnight and even though everyone was exhausted, they all wanted to know more regarding Harry's addiction and whether or not he would ever be able to heal from such an ordeal.

Jacobs assured them that indeed all was not lost, but that they were all facing a long and grueling week and that they should get some rest.

A schedule of shifts was arranged so that Harry would always have someone to watch over him. Severus took the first one, wanting those quiet hours of the night to be alone with his love.

Everyone else had gone off to bed and it was silent now in the infirmary.

Holding the still hand in his own and pressing it close to his heart, Severus watched Harry as he slept, watched the rise and fall of his chest and listened to the sounds of his breaths.

"Oh, my love," he whispered as he lifted Harry's hand and kissed it gently. "I'm so sorry."

Tears slid down his cheeks as he drew a shaky breath. He wasn't one for praying but he was desperate, "Dear Merlin, please … help him to recover. I'll do anything you want in return. He didn't deserve this …"

Wracked with guilt and knowing how devastated Harry was going to be, Severus continued to pray throughout the night.

Just before dawn the following morning, he inadvertently dozed off.

From the previous afternoon to the present hour, Harry had received approximately one sixth the amount of Opium to which he was accustomed. He opened his eyes slowly and took in the soft opalescent light. His mouth was terribly dry and he wished that the kind old elf would give him some water.

Then he glanced over and saw Sev. Harry tried to call to him, to touch him — anything. But he couldn't, he was so weak.

Sleep started to slip over him quickly but before he drifted off, he realized that he was now home.

~SH~

Later that morning, everyone got a crash course on the subject of Opium addiction. They learned that even at one gram, it was still possible to function and maintain a quality of life. What had magnified the drug's affect on Harry was the Machiavellian combination of factors that Voldemort had orchestrated.

It was obvious to Jacobs that 'You Know Who' knew exactly what he was doing.

The administration of the pure drug on a precise and unvarying schedule combined with the absence of movement or speech, the lack of nutrition and virtually no outside stimuli: all of these factors culminated in the enhancement of the drug's affect on Harry's psyche.

It also was the reason that he was now in such a frail physical state. They had learned that the drug, while speciously enticing to the mind and the senses, wrecked havoc on the physical body by saturating the tissues and cells with alkaloids, causing it to use all its reserves to try and rid itself of the residual toxins.

They also learned that because Harry had been in such good physical shape prior to the addiction and that his nature did not predispose him to drug use, he should be able to regain his previous physical health. What concerned Healer Jacobs most was Harry's psychological state of mind and the affect of all the atrocities that had been wrecked upon him.

The first step was to cut the dosage level of the drug to just below one half gram per day. At this level, Harry would receive enough of the drug so that his body did not feel deprived and would not go into withdrawal, but this lower amount would allow Harry's mind and senses to finally reawaken.

Jacobs planned to keep his patient on this lower dose until his vital signs were stronger and he had regained some strength. The dosage amount and the times it was administered would be constantly varied. This would gently help Harry's body to begin to let go of its expectations on the drug's constant presence.

Additionally, whoever's shift it was, they were instructed to either read or talk to Harry the entire time and to bend and straighten his arms and legs. In essence, they were to try and coax Harry to wake up and rejoin the world around him.

Madame Pomfrey and Healer Jacobs had both completed their shifts and now Severus was back at Harry's bedside. He was reading aloud from a very dry clinical book entitled 'Opium and the Human Body'.

He was holding Harry's hand, plugging away steadily at the informative text when a slight movement caused Severus to stop and look up.

He was greeted with the most wonderful sight he could imagine: Harry's beautiful emerald eyes staring back at him from behind droopy lids.

Severus quickly set down his book and moved over to sit on the bed. He leaned close and spoke softly, "Oh my love, you're all right. You're back at Hogwarts. You're safe now."

He paused and waited for a reply. "Can you hear me? Can you understand what I'm saying?"

Harry continued to stare silently at Severus.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, just looking at each other while Severus stroked the wild black hair.

He tried again. "You're safe now. You're going to be all right. Can you understand me?"

And then, a raspy little whisper of a sound, "Sev?" It was all he could manage.

"Yes, it's me. I'm right here. You're safe now Harry, you're safe."

He looked up into the familiar ebony eyes. "Sev?" Harry could only manage a whisper, "Was it … a nightmare?"

Severus couldn't bring himself to answer.

"Sev?"

He squeezed the thin hand and leaned closer then finally answered softly, "No my love, it wasn't a nightmare. I'm so sorry."

Tears welled in Harry's eyes and began to roll down his temples. His weak body began to quiver as he cried.

As if gathering up a fragile thread of spun glass, Severus gently lifted Harry to him and held on to the young man as he cried.

~SH~