Author's Note: This fic is not intended to strictly adhere to canon. Though many (or most) of its characters and recognizable elements of the plot and/or text are of course property of JKR, this story is written as AU. I don't own anything except my original character(s) and plot that deviates from the Harry Potter canon universe.
Longest chapter I've written so far… Enjoy!
Chapter 10: You Mean…
"Ah, and Miss Black. I am Professor Dumbledore. I've been greatly looking forward to meeting you, though I dearly wish it could have been under entirely different circumstances."
Me? Why would the old man be 'looking forward' to meeting me? Weirdo. Even his eyes are weird! Why are they twinkling at me? How do eyes even twinkle?
A very confused and slightly flustered Elizabeth returned her focus to Harry to avoid the Headmaster's odd gaze.
Madam Pomfrey managed to recapture Dumbledore's attention by clearing her throat and then gestured with a head movement that they step away for a moment so that she could discuss the situation with the other adults.
The mediwitch retreated from her patient's bedside, to a distance she judged far enough away to avoid reaching the children's ears. She could not have known, however, that – thanks to her childhood as a life-long outsider and yet frequent topic of discussion among others – Elizabeth was an expert in following a conversation at a distance. Using all her relevant senses (and perhaps unknowingly aided by her magic), Izzy was aware of every word, gesture, expression, and look that she was never intended to be.
"Of course I knew he'd be arriving today, but you didn't think to warn me beforehand of the condition he'd be in? Didn't you think I might like to prepare myself for the amount of treatment he's going to need? Albus, that boy is a mess!" Madam Pomfrey reprimanded as she tried to keep herself from yelling.
Dumbledore, while thoroughly confused and becoming increasingly concerned, attempted to outwardly display a calm exterior. "Poppy," he addressed in as soothing a tone as he could muster, "Could you please tell us what's actually wrong with Mr. Potter?"
She gave him a flabbergasted look before answering, "What's wrong with him? What is wrong with him!? What's NOT wrong with him, Albus?" At this point, Madam Pomfrey's voice had grown so loud that even someone not actively trying to over-hear the conversation would have had no difficulty in doing so from where Izzy still sat at Harry's bedside.
"Besides being severely under-sized for a boy his age – thanks, in large part, to years of malnourishment, I might add – his skin is covered in scars and his bones are riddled with breaks and fractures in various stages of healing. Some of them are clearly years old and have long-since been repaired, but others are far more recent. In fact, I found a few of his ribs fractured so recently that the injury must have occurred within just the last few days as they have yet to even begin the healing process! And that's not to mention all the fresh cuts and copious amounts of bruising visible across his body right this second!" she ranted.
Then her voice softened with sadness, "Albus, the reason he was unconscious when Hagrid brought him in is because he's slowly been bleeding internally for hours, probably all day… If he hadn't been brought to me when he was, I'm quite certain he wouldn't have survived the hour."
The veteran healer's eyes shone with unshed tears as they held Dumbledore's pale blue gaze while he processed all the information she had just given him. Her awareness was drawn back towards her patient by the creak of a mattress spring.
Now looking at the ward's only occupied bed, she found a sight which would otherwise have seemed so very sweet in its innocent nature but that, as it was, seemed utterly heartbreaking under the given circumstances.
Hearing that her Harry had come so close to death, Izzy had climbed up into the bed with him, desperately clinging to his frail body with both arms as though afraid he might disappear if she let go.
I didn't leave you, just like I said I wouldn't. So now you can't leave me, Harry. I won't let you!
Who else would I tease, if not you? More importantly, who would calm me down when I'm angry?
God Harry, just think of how quickly I'd be expelled! You don't want me to be expelled do you? I wouldn't even last a week alone around other people without putting my foot up some idiot's arse and getting caught!
I swear if you die and leave me alone, I'll never forgive you! Actually, I'd bring you back to life first – I am a witch, you know! – just to be able to kill you again myself and then I'd never forgive you! So don't even think about trying to die on me, you git!
Just then, Izzy recognized that she was being hailed before she was lightly shaken by someone.
"Miss Black," the mediwitch said. "Miss Black, Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you."
Izzy's eyes shifted from Madam Pomfrey to Professor Dumbledore, at whom she simply stared while waiting for the old wizard to speak. He could not help but return the little witch's appraising stare.
"Miss Black," he began when it was clear she had no plans of leaving the bed, "May I call you Elizabeth?"
After receiving an affirmative nod from the girl, he continued, "Well then, Elizabeth, I must say, I'm quite confused. I have a great number of questions I wish to ask you, but let's begin with an easier one. Elizabeth, do you know this boy?"
She nodded again, without speaking. This had been one of the first questions to pop into his mind when he first entered the Hospital Wing and found both the children he had been specifically looking for in the group of first years down in the Great Hall.
Elizabeth Black is here too? What's she doing here holding the hand of a boy she's never met – even if it is Harry Potter? Have they met? How could they possibly have met? Where?
"Elizabeth, how do you know Harry? Where did you meet him? And when?" This time, the girl slightly tilted her head and her look became one of confusion, as though she couldn't understand the questions he had just asked her.
She remained this way for several moments, only looking increasingly confused as she tried to formulate an answer. As it was, the answer she gave did little to satisfy Dumbledore's curiosity, "I don't know what you mean 'how do I know him'. I just do. I've always known Harry."
When the small girl had rolled her deep blue eyes while giving this response – one which conveyed to the whole group that she was annoyed by the old wizard's silly questions – he heard Minerva immediately let a single chuckle slip out before she was able to stifle it and then noted that she seemed to be working quite hard in order to affect her usual stern demeanor.
He decided to slightly rephrase, "So if you've always known Harry, then you don't remember the first time you ever saw him? Where did you two most often see each other in the past, before coming to Hogwarts?"
This new set of questions seemed to strike more of a cord in the raven-coloured head than had the first set. Before answering though, she once again rolled her eyes – this time with a little huff of exasperation – as though she thought this information should have been the most obvious thing in the world.
Minerva lost it. All the control she had wrangled to mask her amusement broke and she began to openly laugh. That is, until her mirth was swiftly replaced by bewilderment at Elizabeth's latest response.
"The first time I saw him was at King's Cross. We never saw each other before that," Elizabeth informed them.
Hagrid (who was at this time standing a bit farther away from the bed than the rest of the staff members present), Madam Pomfrey, and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall all looked around at one another, each hoping that one of the others would understand the riddles the little girl seemed to be speaking but finding no such luck.
It was Hagrid who eventually asked what they were all thinking. "So ya don' really know 'im then, Elizabeth? Ya jus' met'im today?"
She began to glare at the lot of them for not understanding something she had just made so clear.
"What I said was that I only saw him for the first time today, but I've always known him. Just because we couldn't see each other, doesn't mean we didn't know each other. We talk all the time!"
This seemed to clarify a bit better as the adults in the room now looked like they understood.
Madam Pomfrey spoke again to inquire, "Oh, so then how do you two talk? By Floo? Owl? By Muggle post? Or maybe it's – what's that odd thing they talk into again? ... a felly-phone?"
The little girl giggled at a grown woman mispronouncing such an everyday word. "It's telephone but no – kids aren't allowed to use the one at the orphanage. But what's a floo?"
Ignoring Elizabeth's question about the Floo, Dumbledore pressed on, "So if you didn't use any of those, Elizabeth, then how did you talk to one another?"
"Well, you know…" she rolled her eyes yet again, in the belief that she of all people shouldn't have to explain to them – fully grown witches and wizards, and professors at that! – how she talked to Harry.
Dumbledore mutely shook his head that no, they didn't know.
It wasn't until that moment that Elizabeth began to worry that she and Harry were, in fact, freaks – just as the Dursleys had always insisted.
She had always known and accepted that she was different from all the other kids at the orphanage and now assumed (after being informed by Professor Flitwick that she was a witch) that her differences had been due to her magical powers. Harry, on the other hand, had always thought hearing her voice in his head was due to some inherent mental instability of his own (even after finding out he was a wizard).
She just figured that all witches and wizards could hear others in their heads sometimes – it was normal because they were magic! But was it normal? Even in the magical world?
"You know…" she began more hesitantly now, "When I want to tell him something, I think the words real loud and then…" she paused to see if they might understand where she was going with this now and not need her to complete the sentence. She found her hopes disappointed. "And then I hear his voice answer back in my head."
All but one of the staff narrowed their eyes in renewed confusion and perhaps skepticism. Dumbledore, however, raised his eyebrows in surprise before his face became a mask of tranquility that was common when his mind began to race as he fully thought through all the aspects of a hunch.
After nearly two minutes of this silence, Madam Pomfrey spoke up – concern for her patient and a need to know what had happened to the poor little boy superseding any desire to further clarify what the girl was trying to tell them or any doubts she may have regarding the girl's veracity, "Elizabeth, did Harry tell you he wasn't feeling well or how much he was hurting? Did he tell you what happened?"
Izzy gave it thought as she took a deep breath and then explained, "Well, he didn't have to tell me he didn't feel good or that it hurt – I could feel it. I always feel it, every time, so he didn't have to bother wasting his breath telling me something like that."
She paused, her face flushing in an anger that became apparent as she opened her mouth to answer the nurse's second question, "As for what happened…"
She stopped speaking for nearly half a minute, taking a series of very deep breaths which made her chest rise and fall quite obviously, and clearly attempting to calm herself before continuing.
This is supposed to be your job, Harry! You know I'm no good at keeping my temper or calming myself down! Especially when the subject is your stupid, ugly, evil – did I say stupid yet? – stinkin' relatives! Idiots! Wake up already, Harry, I need you!
"What happened was the same as what always happens. Except worse this time. Maybe worse than ever before, but I don't know – it's harder to remember exactly what it was like when we were little. Thinking back now, what I remember doesn't look as bad as they do now. But at the time, it always seemed scarier than it does now and I definitely remember it hurting worse."
Halfway through, she had started looking thoughtfully at Harry. By the end she had moved one hand to gently stroke his hair while he slept.
The hand that had been in Harry's hair suddenly moved down to grasp at the hospital gown on Harry's chest. She squeezed the cloth in her hand tightly into a fist and her sweet demeanor vanished in an instant as she continued staring at Harry's face.
"I HATE him!" she all-but whispered with enough venom to shock everyone present.
"Thinks just because he's big that he can say whatever he wants, do whatever he wants, and nothing or no-one can ever do anything to stop him… But I'll show him. One day. I will, I'll show him how it feels to be the weak one, to be the powerless one, the helpless one…"
Each adult's countenance displayed a different reaction to Elizabeth's declarations. Hagrid looked worried for the little thing whose face had gone completely red as she spoke. Madam Pomfrey looked horrified that such threats and words of hate were possible from such a young girl. Professor McGonagall looked deeply concerned about the root of Elizabeth's hate – both the past that it implied and the future ramifications it could hold (such as a possible follow-through on those threats).
In contrast to the relatively similar reactions of the others, Professor Dumbledore looked ashamed. He was ashamed. After all, he was the one ultimately responsible for both children's overall welfare.
He had even been warned by Arabella Figg that she didn't think his relatives liked Harry all that much, that maybe they weren't all that kind or loving with him.
But if she had ever told Dumbledore she thought – for even one minute – that they were doing irreversible mental or emotional harm, much less that they might actually be physically hurting the boy, he would have removed Harry from their care in a second.
Unfortunately, since Vernon Dursley had apparently been very careful to hide all damning evidence of his abuse in areas that would be covered by Harry's clothes, Mrs. Figg had never doubted the boy's physical wellbeing.
Dumbledore had never considered the possibility that Harry might not fit in with a family of Muggles a strong enough reason to put an end to the situation. Especially since he had placed Harry with the Dursleys specifically because of the ultimate protection blood wards could provide – an option only available to him while in the care of his last remaining relatives.
If he had only known…
If he had only known that not only was Harry not liked by his family, he was in fact hated. If he had only known that this hatred was being translated into acts of abuse – both physical and otherwise. If he had only known that his choice of custody for Harry would turn out to be a decision he would forever wish he could take back. If he had only known then perhaps the last decade of this poor little boy's life could have been so very different, could have been closer to the safe and happy childhood that every child deserves – Harry Potter most of all.
His inability to reverse or erase the damage of the past ten years of Harry's life was now the greatest regret of his own already very long life.
Still not quite grasping the situation in its entirety, Madam Pomfrey questioned, "Who, Elizabeth? Who is it you hate so much?"
Elizabeth's face instantly cleared of the intense anger and hatred it had held, not even moments ago, and she turned to face Madam Pomfrey in shock. Then, as if shocked because she had assumed it was quite obvious, she emotionlessly stated, "Vernon Dursley, of course."
Having recovered from wallowing in his regret, Dumbledore had of course already known this was who Elizabeth had been talking about all along. He had already known it was Vernon Dursley she meant when she had first said 'she hated him'.
He took advantage of the others' need for a few moments to process this information in order to confirm his hunch.
"Would you all mind excusing us for a few moments? I would like to speak with Elizabeth alone," he told his staff, dismissing them for now.
As he waited for the others to register and fulfill his request, by following Madam Pomfrey to her office at the far end of the ward, he took the time to consider the sight before him. He had never seen anything like it.
In all the 110 years he had thus far walked this earth, never before had he come across a child with such tremendous power. He noticed it the moment he had walked through the Hospital Wing's double doors. She practically glowed with it. It was simply astonishing.
What shocked him even more was the result of her relocation to the bed. When, after Madam Pomfrey had finished summarizing Harry's condition, Dumbledore had returned his attention to the two children to find them both lying together on the bed, he was glad to already be in the Hospital Wing because he nearly had a heart attack.
The aura of power that had previously illuminated Elizabeth, now surrounded both children. At first, he did not know what to make of it. He had never seen magical power shared between two people like this before, not even in any of the most powerful witches or wizards of his acquaintance. While he suspected this particular power to be Elizabeth's in origin (due to her sole possession of it when he first arrived and Harry's current unconscious state), it was now as if the magic actually belonged to both little bodies.
And that's just the one! Imagine what the two could do together if Harry's magic is even half as powerful as hers! Simply unbelievable! Never in my wildest dreams…
Though the irregularity in the children's power amazed him, he was clueless as to its cause until Elizabeth had begun responding to his questions on how she knew Harry. At first he'd been as stumped as the rest by the little girl's answers, but when she'd told them exactly how she talked to Harry a light-bulb had switched on and then practically exploded in his head…
They were connected. He wasn't positive of just how the connection had formed or of its extent between the two. But the more little Elizabeth Black said, the more convinced Dumbledore became that his hunch was correct.
The shared power he was looking at right this second, the apparent ability to speak to each other using only their minds, she felt the pain of Harry's injuries. At one point it had even sounded to Dumbledore as though they could share vision and he'd definitely bet they dreamed together… It all fit. And yet he almost couldn't believe it.
As the other adults passed through the doorway into Madam Pomfrey's office, he cast a Muffliato charm to ensure the privacy of their conversation.
"Elizabeth, what you were trying to tell us earlier… Are you saying that you and Harry talk using only your minds? That you've always spoken to each other this way? Is that why you've always known Harry?" he clarified.
Her only response was a somewhat relieved-looking nod, glad someone finally understood.
"And you could feel Harry's pain from all the injuries, as though it were your own?"
This time she spoke up in answer, "Well not exactly like if it was mine, it's a little different when it's his. Otherwise, we would never have made it all the way here since neither of us would have been able to move enough to get us on the train today and then off again."
"Ah, I see." And he really did. His hunch had been right.
"And from what I gathered during your condemnation of Mr. Dursley, I'd guess that perhaps sometimes you can see what Harry is actually seeing through his eyes?" he furthered.
Again she nodded, but added, "Not all the time though – that would be really distracting! Just when he thinks about it really loud so it replays in brain. Or sometimes it's kind of like he just loses control of it and I see it all as it happens. That can be pretty annoying sometimes because it gets hard to focus on what's actually happening in front of me, when he can't stop sharing. I don't get mad at him for it when it happens though, I know he can't help it. It usually only happens when he's with Uncle Vernon…" her voice lowered substantially in the last sentence, setting it apart from the rest of her speech and its matter-of-fact tone.
"Elizabeth, do you mean that you've actually seen Harry's uncle hurting him?" he asked, concerned. She nodded, while avoiding his gaze and looking softly at Harry.
"Every time," she supplied. His sorrow over the damage caused by his past decisions only deepened. Not only had Harry had to live through these travesties, Elizabeth had been subjected to them as well. Maybe not physically harmed, as Harry had been, but she had been present and forced to watch each time Vernon Dursley had beat his nephew and that would surely have affected the little girl that now clung to her other half.
"I'm very sorry to hear that," he told Elizabeth sincerely. He didn't know what else to say. What else could he say, really? There was nothing that would undone the choices he had made years ago, nothing that could erase the damage that had already been done.
So instead… "You know, Elizabeth, you're wrong about one thing you said earlier."
Her eyebrows shot up her forehead in surprise and curiosity. "What? What was I wrong about?" she asked, her face making it obvious that she was trying to figure out what she had said that could possibly have been wrong.
He answered before she succeeded, "You were wrong when you said the first time that you and Harry ever saw each other was today at King's Cross. I'm sure you don't remember, but you two have seen each other before…"
Author's Note: Okay, seriously guys I need people to review! With well over 1000 views this week and nearly 400 separate visitors, I've only gotten one single review (thank you so much to xXallegedangelXx, my only reviewer; I really appreciate your input!). So review, okay!? Even if it's to tell me something you didn't like or make a suggestion for what you'd like to see happen at some point in this story. Alright, glad we've got that settled then. Thanks in advance for your reviews!
P.S. Just so we're clear, at no point in this story have I (nor will I) ever intend to imply that Vernon Dursley's abuse of Harry ever extended into the realm of sexual abuse. This is not to belittle the horror of mental, emotional, and physical abuse (all of which I do mean to imply), but I just don't even want to go there (sexual abuse) with this story. Just wanted to make sure that was clear after I read this chapter back to myself.