TITLE: A Gryffindor Tried and True
AUTHOR: Meercat
LONGER SUMMARY: Harry Potter dislikes Severus Snape. Severus Snape loathes Harry Potter. No one is more shocked than the Hogwarts Potion Master when Harry takes a potentially fatal spell to save the Death Eater turned Phoenix spy. Harry's sole hope of survival lies with Severus Snape, Hermione Granger, and, of all people, Neville Longbottom.
Chapter 7Madame Pomfrey rubbed her sore neck and settled back in her chair. In the nearby bed, her patient moaned and shifted. Even her strongest medical potions could not entirely ease his discomfort.
Torches and sconces cast long shadows around the chamber, giving the hospital wing a decidedly gothic feel. Many's the night she watched over a patient, refusing to release their care to anyone else. How many of those times over the past five years had her patient been this same boy? Poppy had lost count.
"Madame Pomfrey?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Could I have some water?" The voice tried to sound strong.
"Of course, dear."
Poppy rose and stepped to the side table. A pitcher sat on a tray, condensation beading on its ceramic surface. As she poured clear water into a glass, she slipped in a strong, tasteless sleeping potion.
"There you are."
The mediwitch held the glass and straw steady for him to drink his fill. It took time, but he emptied it down to the last drop. As Poppy set the empty glass back on the table, Harry looked around the otherwise empty hospital wing.
"Ron? Hermione?"
"The last I heard," Poppy said as she sat on the side of his bed, "they were in the library, scouring the books for any clues to an alternate cure. I understand they have even pulled Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Malfoy into the search."
Harry grinned. "'mione's marshalling her forces, eh?"
Poppy smothered a laugh. "Precisely." Seeing the glazed, drugged sheen in his eyes, she straightened a tiny wrinkle in the blanket and said, "Close your eyes and rest. Your friends will be by to see you soon enough."
Harry moved his head in what might have been a nod. His eyelids bounced three times before settling closed. His breath evened out into sleep. A tiny frown, proof of the pain that even her strongest potions could not erase, creased his face.
The mediwitch wiped a tear from her cheek.
He was so young. So very young.
###
A bright fire burned in the Headmaster's hearth. Its light dispelled the evening twilight even as heat chased away the winter chill. On his perch behind the desk, Fawkes the phoenix chattered to himself as he idly studied the strange gathering of people who had come to visit.
On the walls, portraits of former headmasters either slumbered or listened in silence.
Albus Dumbledore stared over his glass frames. The ancient wizard's expression was unusually somber. Silent figures ranged around the room, waiting for him to set the tone and pace. Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley--and Draco Malfoy?--sat in a half circle, occupying magically transformed chairs. Severus Snape stood in front of the door, his arms across his chest as though blocking the only route of escape.
Dumbledore did his best to ease Longbottom's fears with a smile and nod.
"Professor Snape tells me a most remarkable story, Mr. Longbottom." He motioned to the faded blossom on the round table between them. Around it sat a silver tea service, delicate china cups, and an untouched tray of scones. "The proof appears to lie before us. Only the specific details remain in shadow."
"In other words," Snape said, "explain how you, of all people, managed to find this private atrium."
Albus aimed an intense glance toward the Potions Master, bidding him to be silent. Snape grimaced but said no more.
"Whenever you're ready, Mr. Longbottom."
Neville looked from face to face, anxious for any hint of support. Finding it in Hermione and Ron's bright smiles and in Dumbledore's gentle eyes, he drew in a deep breath, held it a moment, the began his tale.
"That day I--I got lost. I was running late for class-"
"As always."
"Be silent, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore whispered to the Slytherin boy seated on his other side.
Neville blushed and studied his trembling hands. Albus reached over and rested his palm across them, stilling their tremors.
"Go ahead, son. You were late?"
"I was running, juggling my book bag, wasn't really watching where I was going. Peeves had knocked over a suit of armor. I ran around the corner too fast to stop. I tripped and fell into the wall. Next thing I knew I was on the other side and couldn't figure out how to make the hidden door open again. I tried for ages but couldn't find the switch."
Hermione rubbed his shoulder. "It's all right, Neville. Tell us what happened next."
"There was a long corridor. Twisting, dark. I lit my wand and started to walk, hoping to find another way out. Figures and statues lined the way, either huge ones standing on platforms or smaller ones hidden in wall niches. Some of them were shaped like people but most looked like monsters. There were traps--the floor would tip beneath my feet, and I almost got skewered by a spear!"
Several breaths caught in a unison gasp. The Headmaster in particular found the news of deadly traps in a school most disturbing. Even Malfoy stared in rapt attention, as caught up in the tale as everyone else.
"I walked for what felt like hours until I finally came to a door. When I opened it, there was a room, enormous, so big I couldn't see the other side. The ceiling was glass, not like the greenhouses but a solid sheet of unbroken glass shaped in a dome. There were walkways of crushed shell and raised beds filled with millions of plants as far as I could see. Some grew low to the ground. Some grew in clumps. Some of the trees were hundreds of feet tall! There were animals in there, too. Birds and insects. I saw one--a huge cat. It was stalking me. I climbed up onto one of the beds, the one filled with roses. I hoped to hide behind the thorns until I could think of a good spell to cast. Suddenly the whole room shimmered. The growing beds shifted, shuffling themselves like the pasteboards in a deck of cards."
"And the cat?" Albus asked.
"I went with one bed, the cat went with another. I never saw it again."
The Headmaster pointed to the bloom from Dawn's Glory. "How did you come across this?"
It was in the last bed I climbed into. It stood higher than the others. I had to climb a ladder on the side to get up to the top. I hoped to see a way out from up there."
"And could you?"
Neville shook his head. "No sir. I climbed back down and was about to move on when the beds shifted again and put me next to the wall. I lost my balance and fell back. The wall gave way and I slid down a long, twisting shaft. I landed on the ground at Professor Snape's feet."
"My young friend," Dumbledore patted Neville's shoulder, "you had quite an adventure."
"Dawn's Glory still exists," Draco whispered, as though convincing himself of the miracle.
Ron's face lit with hope. "We can save Harry!"
"What now, Headmaster?" Snape asked.
"There's only one thing to do. We must find that room, locate the correct growing bed, and harvest the blossoms. No time can be wasted. We must move swiftly if we are to save Harry Potter's life."
TBC