Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter
Half-Blood Blessing
Chapter Fifty-Four: The Manuscript
There was a collective sigh as the cottage settled into reality. Then we all went about our routines and fulfilled our rituals of tea, trying to act as if the attack on our special night had never happened. I could see that it bothered people and influenced their actions but no one was forthcoming about discussing it, especially not Harry, who had chosen one of the chairs close to the fire. A blazing fire was always a good indication that Voldemort was bothering him. Draco was limping ever so slightly as he moved about. I thought that strange since most injuries seemed to disappear around Harry at least ones he had not witnessed. Draco was tending a wound on Vox's wrist and Vox was drinking thick dark red liquid out of a goblet and sharing it with Draco much like friends might share a drink in a pub. Remus was the most obvious about his discomfort; he had disappeared into the kitchen and chased Sirius out shortly after the man had followed him in. He did bring tea out a little while later though he brought only two cups. He and Sirius sat down at the table and shared the pot silently and with many significant looks. Once they had finished, both retired to sleep. Snape had vanished almost instantly, and I suspected he was already returned to Hogwarts. Hermione too had gone away after laying a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. The gesture was barely acknowledged but that seemed to be enough for her. Fred and George contented themselves with games of cards that seemed to have sleight of hand built into the rules. I fixed myself a cup of tea after Remus had vacated the kitchen but I didn't know what to do for Tesla, she liked coffee better and there was none in the house. She ended up taking tea though she loaded it with sugar and cream. After an hour's reflection on the night I gave up trying to talk it over with someone and went to bed.
Soon enough everyone had left the room but Harry, George and me. George and I were taking turns drawing cards to fill our hands, it was the only way to ensure that the dealer didn't craft the deck to his liking, so that we could start a new round of Dragons and Faeries. Harry looked to be asleep, comfortably sprawled in his chair. I glanced at him while exchanging a few cards from the stash in my sleeve with the ones in my hand.
"I saw that," said George and handed me two more cards as penalty for getting caught. I groaned; he had ruined my sweep in flames that I had set up by handing me the dragon slayer card.
I wasn't too surprised that we were the only ones still awake now. It was not uncommon for us to stay up for days on end when working out the kinks in an exciting new line of product for the shop, (or rather the owl-order catalog as it had now become with the Death Eaters on one side and the Ministry on the other making investigations.) We were actually quite content to be inventing again instead of running shop, as funny as that could be with all the mischief we could play on customers. I set three cards down flipped one over and managed to steal another out of the deck while George was frowning at his hand. The fire suddenly blazed up in the hearth. I had almost forgotten that Harry was sitting behind us.
"Wotcher, Harry," I said, having stolen the phrase from Tonks.
"Hmm," he said not stirring. I turned around and looked at him knowing that would lose me the game and not really caring. George was better at the sleight of hand anyway.
Harry looked grimly at the fire though his gaze did shift uncertainly to me and back again. "Something wrong?" I asked.
He sighed, considering. "No," he finally concluded.
I gritted my teeth, feeling a little more than frustration with him.
"There is, I know there is, Harry Potter. You should talk to someone even if it isn't me. We'll not think less of you."
He looked at me again. "I'm afraid of what he can do to me. Everything I can do, he can undo. We are equal and opposing forces and every fight we have had has been a stalemate and it will go on being a stalemate until one of us gives way. We are at the very edges of our strengths and they are matching. There is no shred of difference to gain or lose with. How can I win?" The words echoed more in my head than in the room. Had they even been said aloud? Did George hear what I had; how could I know? Harry did not look at me again and the stiff set of his shoulders said he was at the least very uncomfortable. I glanced quickly at George, who only gave me a wide-eyed look and that didn't help me decide whether or not he had heard what Harry had said. I noticed he had not switched any of his cards though and that indicated distraction. George shrugged and carefully rearranged his hand, sliding at least one card out of his hand and up his sleeve. I didn't give him the customary two card penalty. I had pretty much lost interest in finishing the game.
"Why would you need to be stronger than him? He still believes in death. If you kill him he will die." What I said didn't really make sense to me, but the words somehow felt right and if I wasn't going to say them, then they would say themselves. Harry looked down his nose, at his hands, not unlike the way children do when they are trying not to cry. He turned them over, searching them as if he was searching the pages of a book.
I felt a tug on my hand of cards and spun to see George tipping them back to see what they were. I just dropped them. He nodded and picked up the cards.
I couldn't understand Harry's behavior. I was almost continuously dumbfounded for one reason or another. Why, why would he confess his fears to me? I was not his best friend or even properly adult enough to be a wise confidant. He didn't share what he felt with Ron, Remus, Sirius, Draco, or any of those he should have turned to first. He told me, as if somehow I would be able to relate. I loved him but so did the others. I had seen him share significant looks with Snape before. Maybe the two of us were trusted to be honest; him viciously so and me… just unafraid of upsetting him. The words I had said repeated in my head making less and less sense as I tried to understand them.
The rest of the break was eerily quiet. The Prophet reported no attacks from the Dark Lord's followers. Even for that though I could feel the pressure rising in the wizarding public. Still they demanded Harry's capture. I had gone back to school two days after the solstice and found my godfather haunting the room of requirement. I took up my work again worry still driving me ever towards the cure if there was one. Vox joined me but was inclined to wander about. So I was alone most of the time. The vial of poison sat in the shadow of the cubbyhole where I had placed it and whenever I found myself stuck my eyes drifted towards it.
Draco went back to school shortly after solstice and I went with him. He was not good company, but then I had not expected him to be. Severus's condition had not improved even with the best antidote Draco had created thus far. So Draco worked, from late in the afternoon, through the night until midday, and then slept for a few hours. I stayed with him for as long as I had patience but the silence and intensity with which he worked drove me slowly mad and I had to retreat. I went to the library most of the time, no one was in there at night and it was not difficult for me to get in even with the doors locked. My research had always been slow but now that I had read everything I could find on the subject I had run into a dead end. I flipped optimistically though a book on magical talents and inheritance but I had read all of it already. I sighed. The sun was starting to lighten the overcast sky. It was still early and with no classes the library didn't open properly until almost 11 on most days. I had heard Madame Pince though and she might or might not take kindly to finding me in her library regardless of how respectful I had been. I followed the heavy shadows of the bookcases out to the main door and left. There was little of interest inside the castle, though at least most people left me alone now. I walked aimlessly until I found myself outside. The sun had broken through the clouds and was shining brightly. I unfolded the umbrella and lofted it above my head and strolled down between the tents to Hagrid's hut. People did stop and look at me, some sneered but none raised a hand against me. I was grateful; it would be easy for the ministry to arrest me since I was still not registered under their foolish policy. I walked around the edge of the forest until I came to the oversized door. I lifted the knocker and dropped it; the noise sounded wet and resonant. There was no call from beyond it though, nor was there any barking. Hagrid was not at home and neither was his boarhound. I frowned pensively back at the castle, I was not ready to give up and go back to the dimly lit hallways. I walked around the building stepping carefully through the garden. Caution was always a good characteristic when visiting Hagrid; there was no telling what creature would be lurking. I did not see him though. As I was going around for the second time I heard heavy footsteps coming from behind.
"Vox," said Hagrid's rough voice. "I'm glad you came. Come in, come in." He was quick to cross the distance to his cottage and put a hand on my shoulder in a friendly manner. His hound which had not been far behind galloped up the steps, passed me, and nearly knocked me to the floor.
"Daft dog," he muttered though it sounded like distant thunder in my sensitive ears. He moved the kettle over the fire and pulled cups out of the cupboard. "You'll not take tea, o' course." He poured something into one of the cups and handed it to me. It was huge in my fingers; much more like a soup bowl than a teacup. "It's not as fresh as y' can get, but…" He shrugged.
I daintily took a sip, "Thank you, it's more than most would have for me." He smiled widely at the comment, a blush even coming to his ruddy cheeks. Conversation was easy, he told me about the forest and its inhabitants, it was not unlike the area where I had grown up. I missed the place sorely and the forbidden forest was the one thing that could make me a little homesick. Thinking of my family did not, the further I could get away from them the better, but the quiet woods and dark shadows had always been enchanting. I sighed, thinking about home and its now corrupted state. Hagrid stumbled to a halt when he realized I wasn't paying any attention to his words. "Vox?" he asked gently.
"It's nothing," I said and took another sip from the bowl-sized cup, "I was just thinking of home." Fang, the boarhound, came and rested his head on my knee.
"Oh, I jus' remembered." Hagrid said and bounded to his feet. He went to the massive desk and shuffled through the precarious stacks. Towers of books reached to near the ceiling, each with titles like Dragons and Their Handlers, or The New Chimeras. Others looked so well read that the script on the cracked binding was illegible. "Charlie Weasley came by just a few days ago looking for a book. He works with dragons, you know, best student in Care of Magical Creatures, o' course that was befer' I was teachin'. I swear he got himself into trouble just hoping he would be sent to work with me in the forest. Professor McGonagall caught on though and stopped assigning his detentions to me. Ah here it is," he said pulling a thin stack of paper, tied with twine. "Found it when I was looking through here for Charlie's book. He wanted Dragon Lore, can't 'magine fer what, he's read it a 'undred times already."
He handed the yellowing, heavy parchment to me. The cover page had, in handwritten script, the words, Creatures: The Magic of Being. I couldn't help but smirk at the title. The author hadn't put his name on the page. I untied the string and flipped through the first few pages carefully. It was clear that this was not a published copy, even in the first few pages were notes and places where the author or someone, had edited the manuscript. I doubted it had been published at all with the implications of the study. "Thank you Hagrid."
"I hope it's what you were looking for."
"I think it is, thank you. I should go check on Draco." Hagrid frowned, the history between the two was a stressed one though nobody had told me how.
"You're always welcome."
He picked up his cloak and followed me out, but went in the other direction. I trudged back up to the castle with the parchment cradled in my arms.
