Chapter Eleven: Spell and Potion
It took him a moment to comprehend what she was saying. An animate spell... to animate the wedding portrait of his parents.
"But how?" he asked faintly.
"Well... two of their blood and one whom they loved..."
"Exactly, what the hell does that mean?"
"Well, I think the potion needs the blood of two who shared blood with your mum or dad... and one who they both loved."
"Potion? What bloody potion?" Harry looked at her, then realizing that they were in the Entry Hall, took her arm and began to lead her up the staircase. "What potion?"
"This is both a spell and a recipe for a potion... Harry, I think..."
"What?"
"Harry... You need some of your aunt's blood... and some of yours... and some from someone your parents both loved."
"But... everyone..."
"Not everyone, Harry."
Harry swallowed. "I don't know anyone my parents loved..."
"Yes, you do."
"Sirius is dead, Hermione!"
"But Remus isn't."
"And two of their blood? There's only me, Hermione!"
"No... there is your aunt."
"Like she'd..."
"Harry... I can only tell you how I'm interpreting the spell..."
"I know... I'm sorry. But somehow, they know what the power is... and I have to find a way to animate them."
"Harry James Potter!" Harry cringed at the top of the staircase as he heard his name screamed from the front doors below.
"What did you do?" Hermione asked in a whisper, glancing down at Ginny, her eyes rounding as she saw the younger girls' fury.
"I... never mind," Harry muttered.
"She sounds really mad."
"That would be because she probably is," Harry sighed. "I damned near lost the game for us... and it was through stupidity... and I left before anyone other than Ron had a chance to yell at me."
"But..." Hermione glanced down again to see a very determined Ginny marching up the stairs towards them, then looked back at Harry. "You know I love you..."
"So you're going to help me?" He asked hopefully.
"Not this time," Hermione shook her head. "She's pretty angry."
"Oh, yeah," Harry nodded.
"Take your bumps, Harry... she'll forgive you quickly enough."
"I hope so," Harry sighed, turning away from Hermione and coming eye to eye... or rather, eye to top of head, with his furious girlfriend.
"How dare you...?" she was working up a good head of steam. She looked rather like her mother, actually, and Harry was reminded of something one of the twins had once said...
"...stupid prat let her get into her stride..."
Harry looked down at her, and smiled tentatively. "I'm sorry, Ginny."
Ginny stopped dead, looking at him, and then glancing at Hermione, who shrugged.
"For what, exactly?" her eyes narrowed on him. Harry was confused by this. Surely he didn't have more than one thing to be sorry for?
"Umm... for almost losing us the game?"
"The game?" she spat. "Look, Potter, I can forgive you for damned near letting that annoying little tart from Ravenclaw almost catch the Snitch, and for taking off and leaving me to deal with a terrified newbie... you know, I think Stevens might actually work out... I can even forgive you for tearing a strip off Ron for nothing, because Merlin knows I do it often enough myself... what I cannot forgive is you tearing off, thinking about your aunt alone in those woods... and not coming to me!"
Harry stared at her, swallowed and glanced away as he was sure that tears were going to start spilling out.
"How did you know?" he asked in a choked voice.
"I know, okay?" she said softly, moving into his arms and holding him close. "I know. I don't know how I know... I just do. Please, Harry... you're not alone any more. Don't push me away."
"I just..."
"I know."
"Well... if you two are quite ready... might I suggest showering and meeting Ron and I in the Room of Requirement to go over this?" Hermione's voice filtered through to them. "Not that it's terribly important or anything...?"
Harry stepped back and looked at her. "Thank you, Hermione. I appreciate it. We'll meet you there in a while... I have to clean up, and I need to find Ron and apologise. I should talk to the team..."
"Don't worry about them. They've been taken care of," Ginny said dismissively.
"What?"
"I told them that you were ill, and that it was a bloody miracle you'd played today, at all. They all understand."
"But.."
"Harry... relax. Go and shower. Ron will be in shortly."
Harry nodded, then turned with her and quickly made his way to Gryffindor Tower, knowing full well he still owed an apology. A very big one.
After his shower, Harry dressed quickly, wanting to get to the Room of Requirement so he could speak to Ron.
But Ron surprised him. He stepped into their dorm room just as Harry pulled a jumper over his head, and leaned back against the door.
"So, what was that all about then?" Ron asked quietly.
"Ron... I'm sorry. I was..."
"Ginny said you were ill."
"Not ill, exactly," Harry sighed, sitting down on the side of his bed.
"Then what, exactly?"
"I... Ron... my aunt..." Harry took another deep breath. "I was flying... and I flew over the edge of the Forest... and I couldn't get past the fact that... Dumbledore abandoned her there, Ron. She was just eleven years old... and he left her there to die... and then I thought about Ginny in the Chamber and... and then I realized the Win was about to get the Snitch because I'd been day-dreaming and not paying attention to the game..."
"But you caught it."
"Only because my broom was faster," he admitted.
"Hmmm," Ron pushed away from the door and came to stand a couple feet in front of him. "So, you expected me to be upset with you for almost losing us a game because you were remembering the horror of my sister being trapped with a ruddy basilisk by the ruddy Dark Lord... and what you went through to save her?"
"What?" Harry looked up at him.
"You expected me to tell you that you should have been paying attention to the game, when your thoughts were about my sister... and one of the hardest things you, and I, have ever had to do?"
"I... I suppose so... I'm sorry, my mind wasn't on..."
"Harry, I think I can forgive you that, considering," Ron said softly. "Now, if you'd been reminded of Cho Bloody Chang because her sister was in the process of kicking your arse at Quidditch, that might have been different."
Harry looked at his friend, totally in awe. "You're not angry?"
"You expect me to be? We all have off days, Harry... I, of all people, know that," Ron shrugged. "Just... next time? Don't assume I'll be angry, okay? You're supposed to be able to tell me anything, right?"
"Right," Harry agreed, then stood. "Okay... your sister was about to tear a strip off me earlier... I admit I buggered up once again... can we go now?"
"Done," Ron stood. "Hermione said something about the Room of Requirement?"
"We need to talk," Harry confirmed. "She's figured it out."
"Bloody hell!" Ron's eyes widened. "She's a bloody marvel, that girl!"
"Read it to me again, Hermione..." Harry paced in front of the fire in the Room of Requirement.
"To bring them here, to make them speak
to reveal their secrets to those who seek
Life of two of their blood and one whom they loved
Water from the land that they were of
Herbs that bring souls back from the dark
Warmed, all, under a willow wand spark
Bring a friend and loved one, a comrade in arms
to witness the rebirth, to speak this Charm
Bathe us, and speak to the Dead.
Redutis, corroborro, sanguis, aliqued"
"So..." Harry sighed. "The potion ingredients are blood from me, another relative, and a loved one... Remus, if he'll agree, water from Potter Manor..."
"The lake?" Ginny asked.
"Best choice," Harry nodded. "And the herbs that bring souls back from the dark...?"
Hermione looked up at Harry, her eyes wide.
"Mione?"
"Snape would know," she said softly.
"I highly doubt that Snape would be willing to tell us," Harry said. "He hated my father when he was alive... I can't see him wanting to bring him back from the dead."
"Should we?" Hermione asked, looking uncomfortable.
"What?"
"Bring them back?"
"What do you mean?" Harry stilled, looking at her. "Are you suggesting that we shouldn't?"
"It's just..." Hermione glanced between the others. "I mean... where do they... is it their souls we bring back? And from where? Is it right to..."
"Hermione... even if I didn't want to... even if I thought they were somehow... happier... there..." Harry sighed. "They have a secret I need. They know... they know what the power is that I have... and I need to know that to do what I have to do."
Hermione stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide, then she nodded and looked away.
"Hermione... you know I can't do this without you," Harry said. "Please."
Hermione sat there, staring at him for so long, they all thought that she was trying to find a way to refuse him. But then, she nodded. "It will take some time for me to research the herbs we'll need and the proper proportions for the potion..."
"How long?" Harry asked.
"I'm sorry, Harry... I just don't know," she said. "It would help... it would help if I had Snape's help... or the help of another Potions master..."
"But you don't, Hermione," Harry said softly. "I have more faith that you can do it than anyone."
Hermione nodded, then looked down at the parchment in her hands. It was shaking.
