Blind Faith

Chapter 12

Harry was vaguely aware of what was going on around him. Some of the girls were screaming he was sure and others had fled the room. Several, both boys and girls, had crowded around to see better what was happening. Of them, most turned and lost the dinner they'd just eaten. None of this really mattered at the moment; the entire centre of Harry's universe had become Neville and his injuries.

The other boy was in really bad shape and as Harry ripped open Neville's robe the moment he had him on his back, everyone else could see what the raven-haired boy had already sensed. Neville's left arm had been horribly savaged. Muscle and bone lay exposed from the hand up to and including his shoulder. He had deep scratches on his chest and a huge bloody gash that ran down his entire left cheek.

"Heal him!" gasped a waxen-faced Draco who was kneeling unsteadily beside him.

"I can't," Harry replied, "not enough to do any good. I'm too drained from the fight with the troll." Holding pressure on the artery at the boy's shoulder to slow the loss of blood he looked to Draco and said, "Go find Professor Snape and tell him what's happened. Make sure he knows how bad it is; he'll know what to bring. He called to Hermione, Run to the Hospital wing, tell Madame Pomfrey what's happened and we're on our way."

With his friends gone on their urgent errands, Harry had his housemates bring several sheets so he could quickly bandage the stricken boy's arm as best he could. Then using a whole sheet they contrived a stretcher and with the help of five other boys they lifted Neville and went out the portrait hole at a run on the way to the hospital wing.

They had nearly arrived at the infirmary when they heard running footsteps and saw Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall running, quite swiftly for their ages after them. Not stopping, however, the boys came to the doors and burst through where Poppy was running about gathering supplies.

"Bring him here!" she called as she pointed to an examining table by her office. The woman hissed as the boys sat their injured friend on the table and she passed her wand over him. It was then that the headmaster and the head of Gryffindor house burst through the doors at a dead run, followed almost immediately by Severus Snape carrying a satchel full of potions.

"Children all go back to their Dormitory except Harry, you go run grab some bandages from the store room. Albus I'll need your help and Severus he needs two blood restorative potions now!"

Running to get the supplies that the medi-witch needed, Harry barely noticed as Professor McGonagall gathered the other boys and lead them out of the infirmary. He stayed through the night, helping dress wounds, and administering potions when asked.

By early morning they had most of Neville's wounds, saved his arm and his life was no longer in immediate danger. As it was he'd lost the last two fingers on his left hand and that arm would never again be as strong as it should. Of scars, he would have many. Most would fade and disappear, thanks to the healing potions, but the damage to the arm and the one on his face were so deep and terrible they would never look the same.

Harry sat by Neville's bed completely spent. The previous day's events plus several attempts by him to use his own magic to assist the healing had left him utterly drained. He had nearly dozed off when he felt a familiar presence at the foot of the bed.

"Professor." he said neutrally.

"How is he doing?" asked Snape quietly, with none of his usual sarcasm.

Sighing, Harry let his senses stretch out once again to his friend before answering. "Resting. That last painless sleep potion was just the thing I think."

"Good." The potions master paused uncomfortably for a moment and continued. "The boy would have likely died if you hadn't acted as you did. Most first year students would have panicked and just run screaming for their head of house."

Harry grimaced, "Yes, well it isn't exactly my first," he said.

Snape nodded slowly and surmised, "You mean your aunt and cousin." Harry nodded and the professor continued. "Your Aunt Petunia and I had a... discussion when you took your little field trip. I found her to be quite a formidable woman."

Smiling Tiredly, the boy answered, "You don't know the half of it. She's had to be though. I mean she raised both Dudley and me since I was four, She works and has absolutely no one other than Dudley and myself for family."

There was another uncomfortable pause and Snape spoke again haltingly. Potter... Harry, I need a favour."

Exhausted and barely able to keep his eyes open he asked, "what's that Professor?"

"The next time you write your aunt," mumbled Snape, "ask if she would meet me at the Leaky Cauldron in London on a day of her choice. I have a peace offering of sorts if she's interested, some potions that will assist in her son's recovery."

Looking suspiciously up at the professor, Harry answered, "Err... sure professor." He cocked his head to one side and asked, "Are you going to have Madame Pomfrey look at your leg while you're here?"

"How did you?"

The boy waved tiredly at the man, "I could hear you limping as you came up to the bed and I can smell the blood."

"It's noting Potter, a scratch. Now get some sleep, the sun is almost up."

Harry woke later that morning to feather-light kisses on his ear from Hedwig's tongue and the sound of nearly silent footsteps as they approached the bed. The boy caught the faint odour of lemons and repressed a smile as he lay still and pretended to still be asleep. He opened his inner eye to sense the expected signature of Professor Dumbledore on the other side of the bed. He remained motionless as he felt the old man's gaze pass over him once then turn to Neville.

Focusing attention on his friend he noticed that the other boy's aura was much closer to its normal strength than the night before. Harry could also tell that the boy was beginning to wake up.

"Good morning Neville," said the old man gently. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"M... My arm hurts a bit," said the boy hesitantly.

"As would be expected after your adventure," replied the headmaster, "Tell me Neville, do you remember what happened last night?"

There was a pause while the boy collected his thoughts and he said, "Yes... we were leaving the Great Hall after your announcement when I noticed what looked like one of the professors taking the stairs to the third floor. I know it was foolish but I knew all the teachers were supposed to be with you in the dungeons looking for the troll so I followed. He went into a room on the third floor and when I snuck in behind him I saw him and another man, I don't know whom, fighting a huge three headed dog. I hid behind a column and just wanted a chance to get back out but the two finally got the dog to back up long enough to make their own escape. I tried to follow but..." Neville's eyes suddenly clouded over again in remembered pain. "I... I don't really remember much of anything after that."

"Relax my boy, you're among friends now." said Dumbledore, patting Neville on the head. "You should count yourself quite fortunate for surviving such a savage attack. And while I applaud your bravery I must caution you against taking such chances with your safety in the future."

Though there was mild rebuke in the old man's voice, Harry could also sense almost jubilation on the wizard's part over the boy's actions.

"Rest now," said Dumbledore, "I'm sure Poppy will be having you as a guest for several more days, though I'm sure your friends will be coming to check on you soon enough, as young Mr. Potter's presence will attest." Turning towards the door the old man took a few steps, turned back to the boys and said, "And good morning to you as well Harry."

Caught, Harry put on a weak grin and replied; "Good morning to you, Professor," as the old man ambled out.

"It was Professor Snape, Harry," said Neville when the doors had come to a close.

The raven-haired boy turned back to his friend, unsure what he'd just heard and asked, "What was that Nev?"

"It was Professor Snape I was following last night," the injured boy said. "He went into the dog's room and I found him and Quirrell yelling at each other as they tried to hold off the dog. It was so angry when they got away... oh Harry..."

Hush Neville," said Harry soothingly. "Try not to think about it too much. Cocking his head to better hear approaching voices in the hallway he said, "Brace yourself Nev, I think your Gran is here."

Just then the doors to the infirmary opened to allow someone to enter. Harry heard shuffling footsteps approaching the bed and got a whiff of old perfume, dish soap and fresh-baked cookies. Through his inner eye he saw a strong old woman who'd lost too many that she held dear. Tension flooded out of her as she got to where she could see her grandson battered and bandaged but fairly whole.

"Oh, Neville."

Knowing that the Longbottoms probably needed some time alone together, Harry slipped out of his chair and scratched Hedwig's head as she settled on his shoulder. Moving quietly past Poppy's office where she lay draped over her desk, having the first bit of sleep for her in more than a day, he slipped out of the infirmary and just let his feet guide him. He didn't feel like going back to the Merlin tower just to answer a thousand questions about Nev so he just walked with no destination at all in mind. Some time later he found himself standing atop the astronomy tower again, enjoying the crisp breeze on his face.

"Feels good doesn't it?" came a voice beside him as Sal faded into view. "There's nothing like the bite of November air to remind you that you're alive. I understand you've had a busy day yesterday."

Smiling weakly, the boy answered, "It's been a busy month. How are you Sal?" he asked, suddenly remembering the custodian's name.

"Fine as always lad, I understand you've developed some new uses for your magic, how has the search gone for the room to practice with your senses?"

Harry frowned, "Not as well as I'd hoped. I've found a room shielded from magic like you asked but it's occupied by the beast that attacked my friend." Harry went on to tell Sal about the three headed dog and Neville's attack. Also mentioning his growing ability to enhance his potions and others spells, as well as his skill as a healer. When he'd finished he frowned and said, "Sal, one thing that bothers me is that when Neville told the headmaster in the infirmary about his attack, Dumbledore seemed to be as pleased with the whole thing as he was distressed. Why would he be like that?

The wizard frowned and stroked his beard, "You'll have to bear with me on this Harry," he said. "One of the concessions I made when becoming a custodian of the school is that I couldn't say or do anything to affect the running of Hogwarts or it's teachers. Unfortunately that also includes imparting important information to smart little boys."

"Why would you do a silly thing like that?" asked Harry Hotly.

"It's a long story," replied Sal with a grin, "to be saved for another time. For now just believer that Dumbledore has no ill intentions for your friend Neville."

Sal leaned against the parapet, relaxed with his arms folded in front of him. "It's good to see that you've been experimenting with your magic a bit, even if your senses haven't followed suit. Still, why didn't you try and heal your friend when you found him?"

"I told you," Harry said, "I was exhausted from the fight with the troll."

"I see," replied the wizard with a serious look. "I think what you need is a bit of guidance and training. We'll meet Saturday mornings about four a.m. that should give us enough time to get a little work done before breakfast. You'll come alone, not even Hedwig unless I ask you to bring her. And we'll see what we can't do about strengthening your magic and find some proper spell work for you.

"Listen carefully now, Saturday morning I want you to go to the seventh floor and find the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. Across from it you'll find a blank wall. Walk past it three times thinking of a room where you can train your magic and a door will appear enter it and I'll be waiting... Your friends are coming to find you now so I'll see you Saturday."

Sal faded away and just moments later Harry heard the clattering of footsteps from the stairway. Moving back to the parapet he leaned against it and pondered everything the wizard had said.

"Harry!" said Hermione in a relaxed but still excited tone. "There you are. We went to the hospital wing but Neville was with his Gran and you'd already left."

I just needed some time alone."

"So how is Neville then?" asked Draco. "And how did he manage to get so torn up?

"He's lost two of his fingers on his left hand and he's going to have some scars," Harry said, "Otherwise he's recovering fairly well. As to how it happened, that's a bit of a story."

The boy went on to recount the tale Neville had told him of following Snape into the dog's room. Seeing him and Professor Quirrell fighting the dog and the subsequent attack. Needless to say by the end of his story both Harry's friends were very pale.

"That's it," Draco said heatedly when he'd finished. "My father was right all along, the old fool is off his tree, keeping such a dangerous monster in the castle. When my father hears of this..."

"Draco wait," said Harry. "Don't say anything yet at least. Dumbledore is up to something but if he's got everyone breathing down his neck he'll get cautious and I'll never find out what."

"Whatever," said the blond dismissively, though from the look in his eyes he had no intention of dropping it. "Anyway, there's another reason we're looking for you."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Come on," said the blond with a sly smile, "it's a surprise."

The surprise, whatever it was, ended up having to wait until after dinner. When Hermione discovered that Harry hadn't eaten since the Halloween feast she virtually dragged the boy to the Great Hall for dinner. Afterwards, outside the hall, they had him close his inner eye as they led him out of the castle.

"What are you two on about?" he asked as they guided him through a field.

"Don't worry about it," replied Draco. "Besides, we're almost there."

Finally they stopped him in the middle of a large clearing, he had a suspicion where they might be just from the distance and direction they'd travelled from the castle, but they weren't confirmed until his friends told him to open his inner eye again. Harry found himself on the Hogwarts quidditch pitch.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"It was Neville's idea really," said Hermione. "He noticed how disappointed you were when we all went to flying lessons and you couldn't."

"What then? He asked confusedly, "I get a tour of the quidditch pitch?"

Draco walked over to the sidelines and returned with two brooms. "No you ninny," he said, tossing one of the brooms to the other boy. "I'm teaching you to fly."

A look of panic crossed Harry's face as he dropped the broom. "No! I mean... it's really alright, you don't have to," he said quickly

"Nothing to it Harry, just pick your broom back up."

"You don't understand," said the raven-haired boy in a strained voice. "When you're blind, when you can't see where your next step is going to land, the idea of being really high up is unnerving."

A look of confusion crossed Draco's face. "I don't understand, what about..."

"The astronomy tower is different." Harry explained. "I've got solid rock to hold on to. Up there..." he gestured into the sky with a pensive expression.

"Look," said Draco, pushing the broom back into the boy's hands. "It's not like you're doing this alone. I'll be right there holding on to your broom the whole time. Trust me."

Harry sighed unhappily and said, "I can't really even sense the ground from high up. I mean the grass is alive and everything but its so weak I have to be close to pick it up."

We've thought of that," supplied Hermione. With that she pulled her wand out and cast a spell at the ground, changing the colour of the grass from green to red. To Harry it seemed as if a plane of light had spread across the field to the very edges of the pitch.

"Whoa!"

"Now," said Draco. "Put your broom on the ground and say 'up'."

Harry reached out and even before he said the word, h e felt the broom's magic reach out and blend with his own. When it rose, it did so with a solid smack as it connected with his hand.

"Right then," continued the blond. "Swing your leg over and hold your hands... oh you've got it right, you must be a natural like me." A snort from Hermione earned her a death glare from the blond as he went on, "Now just kick off and hover."

Harry did what the other boy asked and locked all his muscles as his feet left the ground. Draco, if he noticed the other boy's discomfort at all, didn't mention it as h e swung his broom around and took hold of Harry's just in front of the other boy's hands.

"Here we go then," the blond said. "Once around the quidditch pitch, nice and slow to get you used to the broom."

Their first time around Harry held on so tight that his knuckles turned white. He was sure at any second that he would lose his balance and fall to the ground. As he continued to fly, however, he realised that he held his balance easily on the broom as he did on the ground. By his third lap he had become comfortable enough with it allow Draco to speed them up and begin slaloming gently across the pitch. He was quite enjoying himself with the feeling until the blond stopped them both twenty feet above the ground.

"Alright Harry, you've got the feel for the broom now. Since you're having no problem telling where I am, lets have you follow me okay?"

Still nervous about the whole idea of flying but more than a little excited at the thought of flying the broom himself, he nodded affirmatively to the other boy. Draco let go of the other boy's broom and flew out ahead of him.

"We'll start slow," he said. "Give yourself time to get used to controlling it and call me when you want to go a little faster."

The boys did just that. Starting slowly across the pitch, Harry felt all his awkwardness come back and flew jerkily for a time as he fought for control. Draco was looking worriedly over his shoulder debating whether or not to stop the boy before he crashed but relaxed as Harry's flying evened out. As the raven-haired boy sorted himself out and began really getting to enjoy it, he realized that flying felt almost as natural to him as breathing. Within minutes he was calling for the blond to speed up again and again. Soon they were racing about the pitch at speeds that had Hermione clenching her teeth in anxiety as they tore past. On an impulse, Harry pulled away from his friend and went into a steep climb leaving Draco behind.

"Harry!" the blond yelled with concern as the other boy reached an alarming height, paused and fell into an even steeper dive. Draco's heart leapt into his mouth at the speed of Harry's descent and was showing no signs of pulling up. He turned his broom and raced towards the spot he knew the boy would hit, knowing with a sinking feeling of dread that he would never be able to catch him in time.

Harry was within feet of the ground when he suddenly pulled up and let the twigs of his broom brush through the grass as he skimmed along the ground at breakneck speed until he came to an abrupt stop before a visibly shaking Hermione, who burst into tears the moment he dismounted.

"Hermione?" he asked a little confusedly. "What's wrong, are you alright?"

"The boy got no chance to say anything else as he was tackled by an enraged Draco Malfoy. In seconds he was flat on his back with the blond boy on him, fists clenched.

"Damnit Potter," the boy choked out nearly in tears. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, blind or not, I'll beat you to a bloody pulp!"

Feeling very ashamed of himself he apologized profusely for scaring his friends, trying to explain at the same time the feeling he had when he was in the air. Draco put the brooms back in their shed and was leading an emotionally drained Hermione back towards the castle with Harry coming behind when the raven-haired boy asked quietly, "So you think we can do this again sometime?"

Draco had just turned to throttle his best friend when they heard another voice from nearby. "Hey you kids!" Everyone stopped short and turned to see Hagrid come out onto the pitch.

"Harry!" said the giant as he lumbered towards them. "Draco and Hermione as well I see. What r' yeh doin' out here this late? Suns almost set and yeh kids are too close to th' forest as it is."

Leading them all back to his hut he made them each a strong cup of tea.

"Hagrid," Harry asked as he thought of something, "what do you know about the dog on the third floor?"

"Err... What dog are yeh talkin' about?" the half giant replied uneasily. "There's no dog in the castle."

"Yes there is Hagrid," said Harry tersely. "We've all seen it and it attacked Neville last night over whatever's hidden under that trap door."

"Never!" Shot back Hagrid. "Fluffy wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"Fluffy?" said Draco incredulously. "You named that monster Fluffy?"

"Yeh--he's mine. I bought him off a Greek Chappie I met in the pub last year--I lent her to Dumbledore to guard the--"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Nothing," the great man replied. "Now listen to me all three of yeh--yer meddlin in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget tat dog an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel..."

"Who's Nicolas Flamel?" asked Harry innocently

"I shouldn't a' said tha'." growled Hagrid, obviously furious with himself.

--------------------

Thanks to all my reviewers.--Bobboky, blip-dragon, Gus-Chether, Tanydwr, thestrals, Marller, Bast4, COD1988, Gaul1, Calen, Molly Morrison, Yuikey, Maxennce, Rachel A. Prongs, EAV

Writing this chapter was easy because, like the rest of you I couldn't wait to see what Happened to Neville. I think most of your questions were answered in this chapter (and hopefully a few new ones cropped up.) except...

EAV... no real intentions to make Ron part of the group but I wanted to show that though thoughtless, he wasn't really a bad guy.