Slayer of Death
Chapter Three: Many Meetings
James and Lily took out a room above the Leaky Cauldron. They had meals delivered; the stares and whispers from occupants of the pub below were annoying, and the elder Potters were tired. For the longest time the two simply talked. It was most likely only a few hours, but it felt like a lifetime.
Lily sat behind her husband, leaning against his back, her chin resting on his should just so that their cheeks were pressed together. "I can't believe this," she whispered, wrapping her arms around James like a little child looking for comfort. "Everything's wrong. Sirius is dead. Peter is dead. Remus is hiding." She shook her head and held it, as if she felt a sudden pain. "What happened while we were gone?"
James stroked her hair. "Harry grew up."
Lily swallowed a sob, a skill she had perfected at her fifth funeral before she was twenty. "We missed his childhood, James. We never saw him grow up. I had so many great plans for him — he would be an Auror, become famous, everyone would love him, we would have other children for him to play with."
"From what I hear, his childhood was hardly something to rejoice in," James said bitterly.
"I will kill Petunia," Lily said, her face suddenly drawn up and fierce so that she looked exactly like a lioness protecting her cubs. "Petunia and that damned husband of hers." She spat the expletive, her height growing and her eyes swirling into an angry hazel. "How dare they hurt my Harry! How dare they!"
"Lily..."
"NO!" she screamed abruptly. Suddenly she burst into rivers of tears, holding James close to her, neglecting the rage that had possessed her only moments before. "No, no, no..." James hugged her to his chest as she sobbed desperately onto his shoulder. "My Harry," she wept. "My dear, sweet baby Harry."
She cried for an eternity or more before they fell asleep.
*~*~*
They woke the next morning to a light knock on the door. Lily kissed a sleepy James on the cheek and untangled herself from his arms.
"Yes?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter?" an attendant said, gingerly opening the door. "There's someone here to see you."
James glanced worriedly at Lily, but her tears were long since dried. She held herself with a dignified air as they followed the attendant to a table in the pub below where five people sat, three men and two women. They appeared to be around Harry's age, give or take a year or two. All three of the men had shocking red hair, and so did the shorter of the two women. The other woman had curly brown hair, and stood possessively close to a tall, gangly redheaded man. Two of the men were quite obviously twins, identical down to their shirts, which read "Weasleys' Wizards' Wheezes!"
"I'm sorry," said Lily politely, a bit of curiosity apparent. "I'm afraid I don't know you."
The brown-haired woman leaned against the arm of the one very tall man. She gazed at James. "He does look just like him, Ron." She glanced at Lily and smiled sadly. "The eyes..."
He rubbed her arm and whispered something in her ear. The two twins seemed to be in awe of James.
"Prongs..." they said together.
For the first time in ages, Lily saw a glimpse of the smirking, self- centered idiot James had been during his school days. But a quick elbow in the ribs sorted him out.
The woman with ginger hair stepped forward and smiled slightly. "Excuse my family," she said in a beautiful accent somewhere between Irish, Spanish, and Italian. "They somewhat worship the two of you. You must understand they've heard all about you."
Lily and James nodded, somewhat perplexed. The woman noticed and smiled again.
"I apologize for not introducing us. This is Fred, George, Ron, his wife Hermione, and I, Ginny Weasley."
The names were somewhat familiar. "Weasley?" Lily said, somewhat surprised. "Not one of Molly and Arthur's?"
Ginny laughed. "All the redheads, and then another four."
James suddenly remembered where he had heard of them. "Harry mentioned you!"
They flinched at the name. Ginny's smile turned painful. "Yes. We were friends of his." She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "And we believe we know how to get him out."
Lily's teeth clicked as her jaw set. "A jailbreak?" she asked disapprovingly, reminding James eerily of Minerva McGonagall.
Ginny shook her head. "No. A rescue." Her hand shook, and she hid it in a pocket. She swayed slightly in her chair. "He's...he's...dying."
Lily groped weakly for her husband's arm. He caught her hand and gently stroked it. "Dying?" he whispered softly.
Ginny couldn't help but be fascinated by the chemistry literally visible — at least to her — between the two. The aura around Lily was almost entirely a soft shade of pink, streaked with red and accented with orange and gold with flecks of blue and purple, whereas James's aura was almost entirely blue, dotted with bits of purple and orange along with rays of pink. The two contrasted perfectly.
"Yes," Ginny said quietly, tearing herself away from the magical fascinations and back to the dilemma at hand. "Harry...and I, for that matter...both had been affected by the same affliction. Have you ever heard of the Grindelwald Effect?"
Lily nodded, regaining her semblance of composure once more. "Lord Grindelwald had so much unused power it began to rot, in a sense. It made him himself ill, weakening him to the extent that when Dumbledore attacked, destroying him was all too easy." She cringed. "You're saying that's what Harry has?"
"Yes." Ginny's hands reappeared, and she gestured vaguely with them as she spoke, and she began to pace around the table. "Most people don't know the details of GE. What happens is that the given power of a witch or wizard discovers one of three natural boundless energy wells. They are named the Albus Well, the Nigrot Well, and the Arcus Well — respectively the White Well, the Black Well, and the Rainbow Well. The names represent the qualities held by the particular well. Those whose power draws from the Albus Well are generally flooded by "white" power — good power, in a sense, used with innocent charms and spells; black arts will advance it dramatically. Those whose power comes from the Nigrot Well generally burn their magic by necromancing and other black arts. But those whose power draws on the Arcus Well are given what is in essence perfect power, not too good, not too evil. It is easiest for them to use power, because any spell will better your chances of survival."
Hermione took over. "There are five stages of GE. They are Stage One Acquirement, Stage Two Onset, Stage Three Crossroads, Stage Four Critical, and Stage Five Mortal. As you probably know, there are numbers for measuring power. Once 1,000 is reached, you are officially affected with GE, although there are very few symptoms. Stage Two isn't reached until 1,500, at which it is more apparent that one is ill. Stage Three begins at 2,000 and goes up to 9,000, and is the last point at which it can be reversed before there is no way to perform enough magic to burn off the excess power. Usually it is caught at that stage, since it is the longest. At Stage Four, death can be delayed, but mortality is inevitable. Once the number passes 10,000, delay becomes impossible. No treatment has any effect. Death is imminent, usually within a month of passing the 10,000 mark."
Lily breathed deeply, her slim frame shaking. She rested a hand on James's back and discovered he, too, was trembling. She had enough composure to speak. "So unless Harry gets out...he will..."
"Die," Ginny said quietly. "And I as well." She smiled sadly again. "You see, I draw from the Albus Well, and I am approaching Stage Three."
Lily made a sort of apologetic half-smile and patted the hand which remained on the table. Ginny flinched at the contact, and pulled away, for at the touch, both women had felt the shock run through them.
"It's the same with Harry," she explained, answering Lily's unspoken question. "We can only be touched by family, close friends and others at a close stage of GE; they develop a sort of resistance. But if someone else touches us..." She shrugged helplessly. "We conduct magic into them. Don't worry, you won't be hurt." She stood, and her friend and family followed. As she made her way out the door, she called back, "I'll owl you later. Oh, and Mrs. Potter — I wouldn't try any of the more powerful spells for a day or two. Precaution, you see."
And they vanished, leaving a worried and perplexed couple in their wake.
Chapter Three: Many Meetings
James and Lily took out a room above the Leaky Cauldron. They had meals delivered; the stares and whispers from occupants of the pub below were annoying, and the elder Potters were tired. For the longest time the two simply talked. It was most likely only a few hours, but it felt like a lifetime.
Lily sat behind her husband, leaning against his back, her chin resting on his should just so that their cheeks were pressed together. "I can't believe this," she whispered, wrapping her arms around James like a little child looking for comfort. "Everything's wrong. Sirius is dead. Peter is dead. Remus is hiding." She shook her head and held it, as if she felt a sudden pain. "What happened while we were gone?"
James stroked her hair. "Harry grew up."
Lily swallowed a sob, a skill she had perfected at her fifth funeral before she was twenty. "We missed his childhood, James. We never saw him grow up. I had so many great plans for him — he would be an Auror, become famous, everyone would love him, we would have other children for him to play with."
"From what I hear, his childhood was hardly something to rejoice in," James said bitterly.
"I will kill Petunia," Lily said, her face suddenly drawn up and fierce so that she looked exactly like a lioness protecting her cubs. "Petunia and that damned husband of hers." She spat the expletive, her height growing and her eyes swirling into an angry hazel. "How dare they hurt my Harry! How dare they!"
"Lily..."
"NO!" she screamed abruptly. Suddenly she burst into rivers of tears, holding James close to her, neglecting the rage that had possessed her only moments before. "No, no, no..." James hugged her to his chest as she sobbed desperately onto his shoulder. "My Harry," she wept. "My dear, sweet baby Harry."
She cried for an eternity or more before they fell asleep.
*~*~*
They woke the next morning to a light knock on the door. Lily kissed a sleepy James on the cheek and untangled herself from his arms.
"Yes?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter?" an attendant said, gingerly opening the door. "There's someone here to see you."
James glanced worriedly at Lily, but her tears were long since dried. She held herself with a dignified air as they followed the attendant to a table in the pub below where five people sat, three men and two women. They appeared to be around Harry's age, give or take a year or two. All three of the men had shocking red hair, and so did the shorter of the two women. The other woman had curly brown hair, and stood possessively close to a tall, gangly redheaded man. Two of the men were quite obviously twins, identical down to their shirts, which read "Weasleys' Wizards' Wheezes!"
"I'm sorry," said Lily politely, a bit of curiosity apparent. "I'm afraid I don't know you."
The brown-haired woman leaned against the arm of the one very tall man. She gazed at James. "He does look just like him, Ron." She glanced at Lily and smiled sadly. "The eyes..."
He rubbed her arm and whispered something in her ear. The two twins seemed to be in awe of James.
"Prongs..." they said together.
For the first time in ages, Lily saw a glimpse of the smirking, self- centered idiot James had been during his school days. But a quick elbow in the ribs sorted him out.
The woman with ginger hair stepped forward and smiled slightly. "Excuse my family," she said in a beautiful accent somewhere between Irish, Spanish, and Italian. "They somewhat worship the two of you. You must understand they've heard all about you."
Lily and James nodded, somewhat perplexed. The woman noticed and smiled again.
"I apologize for not introducing us. This is Fred, George, Ron, his wife Hermione, and I, Ginny Weasley."
The names were somewhat familiar. "Weasley?" Lily said, somewhat surprised. "Not one of Molly and Arthur's?"
Ginny laughed. "All the redheads, and then another four."
James suddenly remembered where he had heard of them. "Harry mentioned you!"
They flinched at the name. Ginny's smile turned painful. "Yes. We were friends of his." She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "And we believe we know how to get him out."
Lily's teeth clicked as her jaw set. "A jailbreak?" she asked disapprovingly, reminding James eerily of Minerva McGonagall.
Ginny shook her head. "No. A rescue." Her hand shook, and she hid it in a pocket. She swayed slightly in her chair. "He's...he's...dying."
Lily groped weakly for her husband's arm. He caught her hand and gently stroked it. "Dying?" he whispered softly.
Ginny couldn't help but be fascinated by the chemistry literally visible — at least to her — between the two. The aura around Lily was almost entirely a soft shade of pink, streaked with red and accented with orange and gold with flecks of blue and purple, whereas James's aura was almost entirely blue, dotted with bits of purple and orange along with rays of pink. The two contrasted perfectly.
"Yes," Ginny said quietly, tearing herself away from the magical fascinations and back to the dilemma at hand. "Harry...and I, for that matter...both had been affected by the same affliction. Have you ever heard of the Grindelwald Effect?"
Lily nodded, regaining her semblance of composure once more. "Lord Grindelwald had so much unused power it began to rot, in a sense. It made him himself ill, weakening him to the extent that when Dumbledore attacked, destroying him was all too easy." She cringed. "You're saying that's what Harry has?"
"Yes." Ginny's hands reappeared, and she gestured vaguely with them as she spoke, and she began to pace around the table. "Most people don't know the details of GE. What happens is that the given power of a witch or wizard discovers one of three natural boundless energy wells. They are named the Albus Well, the Nigrot Well, and the Arcus Well — respectively the White Well, the Black Well, and the Rainbow Well. The names represent the qualities held by the particular well. Those whose power draws from the Albus Well are generally flooded by "white" power — good power, in a sense, used with innocent charms and spells; black arts will advance it dramatically. Those whose power comes from the Nigrot Well generally burn their magic by necromancing and other black arts. But those whose power draws on the Arcus Well are given what is in essence perfect power, not too good, not too evil. It is easiest for them to use power, because any spell will better your chances of survival."
Hermione took over. "There are five stages of GE. They are Stage One Acquirement, Stage Two Onset, Stage Three Crossroads, Stage Four Critical, and Stage Five Mortal. As you probably know, there are numbers for measuring power. Once 1,000 is reached, you are officially affected with GE, although there are very few symptoms. Stage Two isn't reached until 1,500, at which it is more apparent that one is ill. Stage Three begins at 2,000 and goes up to 9,000, and is the last point at which it can be reversed before there is no way to perform enough magic to burn off the excess power. Usually it is caught at that stage, since it is the longest. At Stage Four, death can be delayed, but mortality is inevitable. Once the number passes 10,000, delay becomes impossible. No treatment has any effect. Death is imminent, usually within a month of passing the 10,000 mark."
Lily breathed deeply, her slim frame shaking. She rested a hand on James's back and discovered he, too, was trembling. She had enough composure to speak. "So unless Harry gets out...he will..."
"Die," Ginny said quietly. "And I as well." She smiled sadly again. "You see, I draw from the Albus Well, and I am approaching Stage Three."
Lily made a sort of apologetic half-smile and patted the hand which remained on the table. Ginny flinched at the contact, and pulled away, for at the touch, both women had felt the shock run through them.
"It's the same with Harry," she explained, answering Lily's unspoken question. "We can only be touched by family, close friends and others at a close stage of GE; they develop a sort of resistance. But if someone else touches us..." She shrugged helplessly. "We conduct magic into them. Don't worry, you won't be hurt." She stood, and her friend and family followed. As she made her way out the door, she called back, "I'll owl you later. Oh, and Mrs. Potter — I wouldn't try any of the more powerful spells for a day or two. Precaution, you see."
And they vanished, leaving a worried and perplexed couple in their wake.
