Curse of the Basilisk
By Adalanta
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They are the property of that creative muse J. K. Rowling. I do, however, own the plot. That's something, I guess.
Author's Note: Special thanks go out to Kate Potter, Lady Foxfire, Phoenix, and Nicky for reviewing both of the previous chapters, as well as everyone else who took the time to tell me what you think so far. I'm sorry it takes me so long to get out each chapter (I try to post once a week) but I'm in college and work part time so it's really hard to squeeze in the time to write. I usually end up writing late into the night/morning much to the dismay of my professors, who see me the next day, bleary-eyes and yawning. Oh, well - can't please everyone, right?
Oh, yeah. One more thing. Due to some frustrated fans and their comments (see, I really do read and listen to the Reviews) I'm going to try to stop ending my chapters with cliffhangers. After much thought, I realized that there were quite a few stories that I'm reading that end that way, and it drives me crazy. So, I'm going to try. That is not, however, a promise. Sometimes, I just can't help myself. ;)
Well, on with the story.
Chapter Three: Basiliskum Mortalius
A foreboding silence filled the air of the Burrow where Arthur, Molly, Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley stood waiting for Professor Albus Dumbledore to tell them what was wrong with Harry Potter. Potter lay helplessly, unconscious and injured, on the gold and scarlet bedcovers of the bed in the middle of the living room. The room had the anxious atmosphere of a courtroom just before the jury gives the verdict on a murder case. A life hung in the balance.
Albus Dumbledore had stood in front of numerous audiences and delivered many important announcements in his time but he could not remember having to deliver a harder message. The Weasleys looked at him, trust and doubt warring in five sets of identical brown eyes, waiting for him to speak. He took a steadying breath.
"I know what is wrong with Harry."
A heavy silence, broken thankfully by Molly Weasley. "What – what is it?"
He closed his eyes in sorrow and replied, "Harry is suffering from Basiliskum Mortalius, otherwise known as the Curse of the Basilisk."
Another pause, this time shattered by George Weasley, affectionately (and not so affectionately) know as one-half of the Twin Terrors of Hogwarts. "What is that? I've never heard of it before."
Eyes popping open, he nodded in understanding as the rest of the gathered family nodded their agreement. That explains why they are not so upset. If they only knew…but I suppose I'll have to explain – at least part of it.
"Basiliskum Mortalius is an extremely rare disease – only five cases have been documented. It only affects those who have had contact with a basilisk." If the situation had not been so grave, Dumbledore would have chuckled as the whole room turned to stare at poor Ginny, who stumbled back a foot, turning whiter than Dumbledore had thought possible. He knew he'd have to intervene before someone panicked. "Physical contact. In other words, you have to have been bitten. Young Harry, here, was bitten by a basilisk over a year ago in the Chamber of Secrets. I'm sure you remember the circumstances."
They all firmly nodded, except for Ginny who just stared at the floor. Poor child. She still feels responsible for the whole mess. I'll speak to her later, he promised himself. "When a person is bitten by a basilisk, it injects a virulent poison into the blood stream, causing disorientation and death to the victim within minutes of the attack. If the victim is extremely lucky, he or she receives the necessary medical attention that is needed. In Harry's case, his poison was stopped by phoenix tears." Dumbledore halted for a moment and shook his gray head. "No, 'stopped' is too strong a word. Perhaps, 'neutralized' is a better. Yes, the phoenix tears neutralized the poison. But – "
"Then why is Harry sick?" Fred interrupted.
"That is just what I was about to say, Fred. Basilisk poison can only be neutralized – it cannot be destroyed, at least not then. The remaining poison lies dormant in the blood stream directly underneath the entry wound. This is known as Basiliskum Inertitia, the stage where the poison is waiting to be released. And there is only one way for that to take place. The victim must be injured in the exact same place that they were originally bitten."
He whirled around and motioned for the Weasleys to come closer. He waited until they were all huddled around Harry and then pointed to his right arm. "You see, right here above the elbow was were the basilisk's fang pierced Harry's arm, leaving a large scar behind. If you look closely, the scar is not visible. That is because his arm bone pierced the skin right through the scar." He sighed sadly. "If the bone had come through just an inch below or an inch above, the poison would not have been released. I wish that it had been so. But wishful thinking will not help us here. We must face the facts: Harry has Basiliskum Mortalius. Of that I am certain."
The room remained quiet as each person tried to accept the terrible, undeniable truth.
"But," asked Mrs. Weasley, "what does the poison do? Does it have something to do with my trying to spell his broken arm back together?"
"It has everything to do with that, my dear Molly. Basilisk poison repels magic – spells, charms, potions, everything – violently. When Harry had his seizure, it was because of the poison. His body tried to automatically take it in, but the poison pushed it back out. This inner war caused his organs to become…misdirected…and caused him to begin convulsing." Seeing Mrs. Weasley's eyes well with tears and self-blame, he hastened to add, "No, Molly, you did nothing wrong. Anyone else would have done the same thing, including me. Actually, it could have been much worse. If you had given him a potion, you would have killed him. The poison eats through all of the internal organs the potion touches." He grimaced, remembering reading once about that grisly occurrence.
Seeing Dumbledore pause, Mr. Weasley decided it was the perfect time to seek additional information. "Professor, is that all the poison does – repel magic?"
"Unfortunately, no. Basilisk poison affects the victim in two ways during Basiliskum Mortalius. First, it repels all magic. The effects are like that which you have already witnessed. Second, it induces an extremely high fever. This in itself is deadly as it causes delirium. But the kind of hallucinations caused by this disease are…unique and unpleasant. The high fever reacts chemically with the poison and forces the victim to relive the most terrifying incidents of his life." He cleared his throat, searching for a way to put his next statement delicately. "For some victims, this would not be a major problem, but for Harry, it can be psychologically damaging." His voice fell to a whisper. "No one should have to live through half of what he has, but to force him to relive it all over again, all at once…" He shook his head and changed the subject. "However, the fever also weakens the body and the heart as well as the mind."
"Professor Dumbledore?" a hesitant voice inquired.
"Yes, Ginny?"
"Do you…do you think Harry is going to die?" she asked, voice quivering. Dumbledore looked at the young girl before him and felt his heart go out to her. Honestly, he was surprised that the youngest of the Weasleys would be the one to ask the dreaded question. She has more strength in her than I thought. Interesting.
"I don't know, Ginny. Harry is a strong young man, one of the strongest I've ever seen. But this disease…" His voice trailed off. He was unwilling to say more unless prompted and hoped he wouldn't have to. He was wrong.
George looked at his twin. "Professor Dumbledore, you said there have been only five recorded cases, right?"
Uh, oh. Here is comes. I should have known better than to try and hide anything from those two. "Yes," he drug out the word.
"How many of those victims survived?" It was Fred this time. They were tag teaming.
He cleared his throat loudly, trying to think of another way of answering. If I answer this, they might loose hope, and Harry will be doomed. I shouldn't…but I have to. The Weasleys are more of a family to Harry than the Dursleys ever were. They have the right to know, if not the need. He opened his mouth to reply…
…just as a loud moan came from the bed behind him.
Mrs. Weasley rushed to the bedside, her large body moving as nimbly and quickly as a ballet dancer, the rest of the family right behind her. "Harry!" she cried, eyes once again filling with tears.
Harry shifted a bit and moaned even louder. Professor Dumbledore moved to stand by his head and lightly touched his left shoulder. He needed to talk to the boy to find out where he was hurt before he became overwhelmed by the fever. "Harry, it's Professor Dumbledore. Can you tell me what's wrong?"
He looked on in concern as the boy weakly whispered, "Hurts."
"Where does it hurt, Harry? Can you tell me where? We need to know." Harry tried to move once again and cried out. "Harry, don't try to move. You're safe."
"Where…am…?"
"You're at the Weasleys. You'll be safe here. Now, where do you hurt?"
Harry opened his green eyes a little. Dumbledore felt alarm race through his chest when he saw that they were unfocused and darkened with pain. "Everywhere," he groaned.
"I'm sorry, Harry. You have to be more specific than that. What hurts – your head, your arm?"
Harry's left hand flopped feebly towards his own side. "Yes," he answered slowly. "Head… arm…chest. Hurts to…breathe."
"Your chest, Harry?" Dumbledore asked again, just to make certain.
"Yessss." He replied after a minute, his voice now slurred. "Hot…so hot." His eyes drifted shut, and his head lolled to the side like a puppet on a string.
Mrs. Weasley glanced up, frightened by the hurt boy's behavior. "Do you think we should wake him up – try to keep him conscious?" she asked softly. "If he's got a concussion, he shouldn't be allowed to sleep."
Dumbledore met her gaze. "No, let him rest. He'll need his strength for what's ahead." Turning to Mr. Weasley, "Arthur, we need to find out exactly what else is wrong with him.