Chapter 9: Downward Spiral

Chapter 9: Downward Spiral

The next day, Lavinia asked Andrea to pick up some butterbeer for herself (she wasn't much of a drinker, she told Harry. She tried to avoid the strong stuff) and suggested he get the same. But he said he no longer cared for the taste of it and preferred either firewhiskey or red currant rum. Lavinia agreed to get him the rum, but only one bottle.

By the time Andrea returned, it was already getting dark. She had had to pick up a few other things while in Diagon Alley and it had taken her a while to find an extremely rare herb needed for a new potion they were trying.

Harry and Lavinia ate dinner outside while they watched the sunset fade into a beautiful, cloudless star-filled night and a cool wind began to blow. After dinner, Lavinia broke out the drinks. She poured Harry's rum and her butterbeer into crystal glasses she had conjured and they clinked their glasses together before each taking a drink.

Lavinia leaned back and rested her elbows on the soft grass, gazing up at the stars. "That's one of the things I love about being way out here," she said, "there is no one else around for miles and you have a clear, unobstructed view of the stars. I love looking at them. It's so peaceful. The stars…" Her voice trailed away as she continued to stare at the sky.

Harry finished off the last of the rum with a sigh, desperately wishing he had more. Curiosity getting the best of him, he pulled out his wand and tried to refill his glass. At first, nothing happened, but then a small stream of liquid began trickling out of the tip. Seeing this, he glanced at Lavinia to make sure she had not seen, but she was too preoccupied to even notice what he was doing. He then directed his wand to the glass, slowly allowing it to fill. When it was full, he softly muttered, "Finite," and the last few drops spilled from his wand tip into the glass.

Lifting the glass to his lips, Harry took a drink. The taste was wonderful, even better than the rum. So he took another, then another, and another more. Soon this too was gone and he had to refill the glass again. He hadn't had a drink in so long that it didn't take as long as before for him to feel the effects of it.

After finishing his third glass of this new drink, Harry heaved a sigh and smacked his lips together. This seemed to snap Lavinia out of her reverie and she looked over at him. She noticed the empty rum bottle sitting next to him and said, "Well, you sure drank that quickly."

Harry swayed slightly. "Yeah, this new stuff's great, even better than the rum."

"New stuff?" Lavinia said, puzzled. "What new stuff? That's all we brought you." It was then that she saw he was holding onto his wand, but it had been hidden from her.

"Harry," she said slowly. "What have you been drinking?" She leaned forward, off her elbows and watched as he waved his glass around.

It took a minute for him to respond, as if he couldn't quite get his tongue around the words. Finally, he said, slurring his words, "I d-don't know. But, it's s-s-strong. Never tasted anything l-" he hiccupped slightly "- like it. Hmm. Want some?" He picked his wand back up and tried to direct it to his glass as the liquid began trickling from its tip again, but he couldn't keep his hand steady and it dribbled down the side, onto his hand.

Lavinia watched him with a mingled expression of disgust and pity as the liquid continued to miss the glass and poured instead into his lap. The reason she didn't drink much was because she didn't like being around people who did; she greatly disapproved of the way they behaved under alcohol's influence and preferred not to become one of them. She also disliked the feeling of not being in control, of having a clouded mind so that she couldn't think straight. Furthermore, she dreaded what she may say or do if things got out of hand; she held more than a few secrets that may cost her her life if she ever revealed them.

Lavinia swung her legs around so that she was kneeling on them, facing Harry, and made to take hold of his hand to at least steady it, but Harry pulled it out of her reach.

"Harry, I think you've had enough. Give me your wand." She held out her hand, but he only moved his glass and wand father away. This was beginning to frustrate Lavinia, so she pulled out her own wand and muttered, "Accio Harry's wand."

His wand flew out if his hand and into Lavinia's before his mind even had the chance to register what she had said. Goggling at his now empty hand, wondering where his wand had gone, Harry looked up at Lavinia with slightly unfocused eyes. He stammered, but couldn't manage to say anything distinguishable.

She vanished the empty rum bottle and both of their glasses, hers remained barely touched, before tucking their wands within her robes and standing up. "Come on, Harry, get up. I need to get you inside." She grabbed Harry under the arm and pulled him to his feet, but when she went to let him go, he wobbled slightly and she had to retighten her hold to keep him upright. "Harry," she groaned as she struggled under his weight, all of which he was applying on her, his legs not wanting to support him. One hand still gripping his arm, she placed the other one around his back and under his other arm as she began steering him to his tent. "You're legs aren't broken, Harry. Walk."

Harry slumped a little in her grasp before pulling his leg forward and taking a step. He looked up at Lavinia, his eyes still unfocused, and slowly said, "You look beautiful, Hermione. Do you know that? I'm glad you're here."

Lavinia stopped for a second and stared at him. She didn't know whether to take what he had said as an actual compliment or disregard it as the effects of the alcohol. Either way, she couldn't stop the smile and slight flush that formed in her cheeks as she resumed dragging him into the tent and over to his bed. She propped him against the foot of the bed so she could draw the covers and lit the lamp that stood on the table in the middle of the room. The table was littered with Daily Prophets and, lying on the top of the papers was a small, glass chess set. Lavinia then half carried, half dragged Harry onto the sheets, slipped his glasses off so he couldn't break them, and pulled a chair over before leaving.

Harry lifted his head off the pillow and stared at the blurred shape that was Lavinia as she exited the tent. He wanted to call after her, to tell her to come back, but he found that his voice was stuck in his throat. He let his head fall back with a sigh. He tried to think of what he may have done to make her mad, but his brain felt like mush and his thoughts kept getting mixed together. He had called her something, but what was it? Then he remembered, horrified. He had called her Hermione. But Hermione was dead; she had been dead for about a month, now.

He reached up and hit his fist into his forehead; it missed and grazed off the right side of his head. Stupid, he thought. He leaned forward and tried to sit up, but he suddenly felt dizzy and lay back down to prevent himself from throwing up.

Just then, Lavinia re-entered carrying a bottle of some yellow-orange potion. "This should help remove some of the rum from your system, I'm not so sure about the other stuff, though. Can you sit up?" She placed the bottle on the chair as he leaned forward.

"I don't feel so good," he said, it felt like his stomach was doing flips and would come tumbling out of his mouth at any moment.

"I'm not surprised," Lavinia said as she propped his pillows against the rails of his bed so he could sit up against them. "Who knows what that was you were drinking or how strong it was. That is one thing you should never conjure up, especially in your present magical state." The tone in her voice was both stern and concerned at the same time as she began tipping the potion into his mouth. Almost instantly, Harry felt his mind begin to clear and he found he could see straighter, at least as straight as he could without his glasses.

When he had drunk the entire potion, he slumped back onto his pillow. He felt ashamed of himself, never in all the years that he'd been drinking had he ever said anything that had hurt or offended someone. This was mainly because he usually drank alone, and that was why. He glanced at Lavinia as she placed the empty potion bottle on the ground, next to her chair then turned around and sat down.

"Lavinia," he said, tentatively. She looked down at him. "I'm sorry. I knew how much of a problem I'd had in the past with drinking and I should never have suggested getting some. I want to apologize for my behavior, and for calling you Hermione. But, what I said … when I said you looked beautiful, I meant it."

Lavinia was glad the lamp was behind her so that Harry couldn't see as the pink began to rise up into her cheeks again. She wasn't sure of what to say so she just smiled and said, "Well, now we both know. We won't be buying you any more drinks from Diagon Alley."

Harry nodded then yawned.

"Would you like me to leave, so that you could get some sleep?" Lavinia asked.

"No, it's all right. I really don't want to go to sleep. Could we just talk for a while?"

"About what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Anything, really. Do you like Quidditch?"

Lavinia shrugged. "I know the basics of the game, but I've never actually watched a match. I'm not really into sports. Tobias is a huge fan of the German team, that's his home country. What fascinates me the most is how all the players are on broomsticks. I wish I could fly. I've never been able to get the hang of it and just the thought of being that high above the ground with nothing to support you but a thin piece of wood. It's not that much of a comfort. I guess my talents lie with Healing."

Harry gazed at her in amazement. "You don't know how to fly? It's easy!"

Lavinia felt a slight twinge of irritation at these words, she didn't like it when people made a big deal out of something she wasn't very good at or didn't like to do. "Maybe for you."

"I need to take you flying sometime. It's all right, you'll be safe. I'll wait until I have more control of my powers again." He said this quickly, because of the look on her face.

Lavinia relaxed. A sudden gust of wind blew in through the tent opening, extinguishing the flame of the lamp and throwing the tent into darkness. Lavinia stood up and lit her wand. Walking over to the table in the middle of the room, she relit the lamp and her eyes fell on the chess board. "Harry?" she asked, turning to face him. "Do you play chess?"

"I did, but I haven't in a long time."

"Would you fancy a game? It's been a while for me too, but it could be interesting."

"Sure." Harry stood up and walked slowly to the table, the rum may have been flushed from his system, but the other stuff was still there, and he still felt somewhat nauseous as he sat down and put on his glasses and Lavinia pulled her chair over.

They played late into the night, each achieving a few wins. They were about equal in their abilities, but Lavinia suspected Harry might play better if he wasn't impaired. As the rest of the alcohol passed through his system - and he made quite a few bathroom visits - he started getting sleepier. Finally, after Harry made a move that landed his queen right in the path of one of Lavinia's rooks, and the rook had quite violently taken her out, he decided that he should get some sleep.

Harry slumped back to his bed as Lavinia straightened up the table and extinguished the lamp. Turning to say good night to him, she found that Harry was already asleep, the first rays of early morning sunlight playing across his face. Lavinia walked over to him and kneeled down beside the bed, watching him sleep.

She stayed there for close to an hour as he fretted in his sleep, tossing and turning. Every once in a while, he would mutter something, a few times it almost sounded like he said Hermione's name. As she gazed at him, Lavinia couldn't help but feel sorry for him and it was rather unsettling to see him like this. She didn't realize he was still grieving over Hermione's death. He seemed to have finally accepted it and was on the way to forgiving himself, letting himself off the hook for the guilt he had felt for letting her die. Perhaps it was only in his dreams that it now came back to haunt him.

Hermione, she thought sadly, sighing. Maybe I should just call this whole thing off. Who am I to cause him more pain? She stood up, but kept staring at Harry's now still body, her mind reeling. She sighed again. I can't, it's too late to turn back now. The damage is already done. And besides, he'd never forgive them for what they'd done to her, and never forgive me.

She walked outside into the August sunlight, the temperature was already rising. Everything was beginning to stir, the birds were chirping as they dug for worms and Lavinia could hear the other two female Healers rustling around in their tent, getting ready for the day. She walked over like she was going to enter her tent, but decided not to and turned around instead and began walking toward the forest, where Harry used to spend a lot of his time. She was glad that Tobias was off on vacation, otherwise her and Harry wouldn't have had the entire tent to themselves last night. Not that we would have done anything besides talk and play chess. I mean, Lavinia tried to explain to herself, I like Harry and all, but not like that and he wouldn't have tried anything either, not having just lost Hermione a month ago. But I am beginning to doubt if what we are doing with him is right. I really don't understand what the purpose of this is. Hasn't he suffered enough, all of his life?

Lost in thought, she hardly had time to register the sound as someone emerged from the tent behind her before she was grabbed, swung around and thrown up against the nearest tree. Squinting against the blinding sun that was now directly in her face, she looked up into the face of her mother. "What -" Lavinia began to say, but Annika slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her.

"Let me remind you that that boy means nothing to us." Annika hissed, her face livid. "I've seen how you act around him, and it seems to me you are either an exceptional actress - which I doubt you are - or you truly have feelings for him." Held tight against the trunk, Lavinia was barely able to shake her head no, but Annika ignored this. "Do not forget what he has done to us, the reason for which he should pay. But I warn you, get in the way, and I won't hesitate to kill you as well! Just do your job!" With that said, Annika released her hold on her daughter and walked off without another word.

Lavinia leaned against the trunk, breathing heavy. Her mother was right. There was nothing she could do to halt the plans while they were already in motion. The only thing she could do now was make Harry as happy as possible, while she could.

(end of chapter 9)