Harry Potter and the Star of Senkrad
Author: l'Ciel
Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: JKR, and some more I think – I don't own anything but the plot – oh, and Ice Drakes, that's mine too! And that sexy nurse (god bless her brainless boobs)
Rating: hard R for implicit sexual content, NC-17 for explicit sexual content
Warnings: violence, brain washing, non-con,
Pairings: HP/DG, SS/LM; side pairings: HP/BZ, NM/LM
Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance, Angst
Summary : After the events of OotP, Harry runs away from the Dursleys. The only one to find him is Snape, but where do the spy's loyalties truly lie? Slash & Het, war-story
Main characters: Harry, Snape, Lucius, Voldemort, Dumbledore
21) Mourning Mood
When he woke up his clothes were drenched in sweat and he was shivering. His spell had faltered and the room was icily cold again. Trembling, he got up and wrapped the comforter around him, before he descended the stairs again. It was still before sunrise, so he ignited the hearth in the living room and cowered himself into an old, worn armchair in the corner of the room.
His gaze wandered back to the dark patches on the floor, when he suddenly saw something lying in the shade of the overthrown table. With stiff joints he got up and kneeled beside the table to pick it up.
It was a wand.
Under layers of dirt it seemed to be in good condition, so Harry used the edge of his robe to polish it a bit. The wood was dark red and the handle quite worn, signs of regular use.
/Mahogany, 11inch, pliable - excellent for transfiguration.../
"Dad..." Harry's heart constricted painfully. He gulped and swallowed, "Oh my god..." his hoarse voice was frozen to a shallow whisper. "What have I done?"
"What you could, my boy. I am glad we have finally found you. Everybody was very worried, Harry," a voice said from behind and he whirled around, his father's wand in hand.
"Professor Dumbledore?" he asked shakily.
"Yes, Harry. It is me, or have you seen anybody else wearing these robes? The selling-witch promised they were absolutely unique..." he patted the broad, ornate lilac hems of his sleeves fondly. "Now to serious business."
"Yes – I mean, I'm so sorry... I didn't know, dear Merlin, I would have fought it much earlier... I – I..." he stammered, tears streaming down his wide eyes.
"Now, now, my dear. Nobody blames you. Professor Snape has kept me up to date quite regularly, I assure you. Let's see, why don't we close those leaks," he swished his wand and the wall repaired itself, before the room heated up nicely. "And sit down?"
Conjuring some tea, the old wizard sat on the armchair next to the one Harry had just sat in. Dumbfounded, he sat back down at the headmaster's side and gingerly accepted the steaming cup the elderly wizard offered him.
"I hope you don't mind that I restored some bits of the house, my boy, but I thought you might want to see it one day and not find a heap of rubble with only some walls standing."
"Was it that bad?" Harry asked uncertainly, gazing into his mug.
"Well – the force of the collision of magic was certainly extensive. And this is only a normal Muggle cottage. Although it is certainly nice to live in, it was not made to stand against magical supernovas. I just fear it had something against me trying to repair it the magical way…" Dumbledore chuckled, but soon his eyes grew serious again.
"The ministry has no charges against you, so you need not fear anything. But I must ask you to talk to somebody – not to give evidence, but for my own peace of mind. A boy - any youth – is not meant to see the things you have seen. Please let me rest peacefully, knowing that you are not alone with your emotions, alright?"
"I'll think about it, sir," Harry said carefully.
"Poppy or Minerva always have an open ear for their charges, and I am sure Remus Lupin would not mind at all to listen to you. He was terribly worried and still is – we should invite him over some day so he can see you are back in one piece."
"Yes, that would be nice," he admitted.
"No doubt."
They sat in silence for a while. The cups obviously refilled themselves, so Harry was not sure how much time had passed when the headmaster sighed and gazed around in wonder.
"I have not been here since over fifteen years... but it is amazing that you, Harry, found the way home after all this time on your own... Amazing indeed. And it seems you found your father's wand. The aurors who searched the place after the attack must have missed it in under all the dust," he sipped some tea and sighed again.
"I passed some stone circles on my way here. Somebody – Ollivander's brother, the one who sold me my second wand – was there and said that they were the Spring of Awakening. Can you tell me more about it?" Harry asked to break the silence that was weighting heavily on his shoulders.
"Most certainly, my boy. They were built to the time shortly before the Romans came to England. The legend says that Merlin himself bewitched the megaliths after he sealed his strongest weapon inside the block in the middle. Not many know that the circle still exists. It is not easy to find, because part of it seems to be built in a different dimension. It is ancient magic, nothing easily explained. But it has to be the right person in the right place at the right time to find the spring. The legend furthermore says that those who drink from it possess an unknown power from the moment on the water touches their lips. But about a century and a few decades ago the block in the middle was split and the power inside released. That was how Grindelwald came to power."
"Oh. What happened to the weapon?"
"He wielded it for many years, until it was stolen right before the ultimate attack. It appeared lost until some years ago. Even then it seems it was hidden until recently," Dumbledore smiled meaningfully.
"Yes? Where, when?"
"A young man found it in a shop and later a Dark Lord gave it to him, never knowing he had given his worst enemy the power he knows not!" Now Dumbledore was positively bursting with laughter. His eyes flickered merrily.
"How – what? But..."
"Yes, Harry. The Star of Senkrad, used by Grindelwald for an evil purpose, is originally the staff of Merlin, also called the 'Flute of Awakening'."
"And that's it? The content of the prophecy is that easily solved?" Harry asked, perplexed.
"Well," Dumbledore chuckled, "it is not jet fulfilled and fate often has the annoying tendency to come out different form what anybody might have expected, but it could be a most hilarious coincidence, indeed!"
"...Fuck - I mean, I forgot I had it all along!"
"Well, such things happen. Now, why don't we leave before Voldemort hears us chuckling back to Malfoy Manor?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he offered Harry the end of a reddish golden Quill. "Cauldron Cake!"
The light was hazy and his head hurt. Mumbling, he tried to turn around, but then something really odd happened. His chest turned, but his hips didn't cooperate. Confused, he opened one eye blearily and gazed down his body. It smelled of disinfectants so he already knew he was in hospital. Fitted his last memories quite well. Shuddering, he lifted the blankets a bit to see what was hindering his hips from moving:
A broad leather belt held his lower back in place. A slightly tingling feeling told him that magic was woven into the material, but at least he was not maimed or something. Wriggling his toes, he sighed relieved and laid back on the downy pillows. Just then he heard a noise from the right where a nurse had just opened the door.
"Uh – hello?" he asked friendly, concerned about her white face. She blinked and smiled back.
"Hi! Good – you're awake! I'll fetch the healers and contact your family immediately," she was about to go. "Anything you need right now?"
"Food?"
"I'll tell your mum. I think her food is better that the shit they serve here," she smiled.
"And you're allowed to say that. Being employed here and all?" he joked and she giggled.
"Oh no – I'm just doing a work experience over the winter holidays. You see, my uncle is here and I'm spending some time with him. Fiona Lockhart, I think you know my uncle, Gilderoy?"
"Yeah – he was my teacher. At Hogwarts," he grinned. Merlin – she was amazing! All thin and curves at the right places, blonde, full lips. Shit – he ought stop staring. Red-faced, he turned away abruptly and she laughed again, before she left the room.
Remus sat on the windowsill of the window in Sirius' old room on the uppermost floor. The view over the roofs to the Muggle city centre was amazing, especially during the morning. He had watched the sun rising. That had been several hours ago.
Fondling an old photograph he sighed heavily and gazed outside.
Sirius had sat here a lot, watching the Muggles in the streets below and behind the windows and on the roofs. Usually they had taken a late breakfast together, talked about the past and the present. About the Marauders and James, about the Weasleys and Harry. About themselves. Sometimes they had drunken together and sometimes Sirius would hug him and they'd go to bed together and curl up like back then, after Sirius had left his family to find some comfort together. But not very often. Most of the time his friend had pulled himself together, for Albus, Snape or Harry. Particularly for Harry. But in the long hours when nobody was at headquarters but them, the animagus had transformed and hid away in his room. Remus had known he wasn't well. Hell – he had suspected it was much worse than anybody expected. But he had pretended it was alright. For Harry. For himself.
Now Sirius was gone.
And Harry. Harry was missing.
Percy looked up from his book when green flames flared in the hearth in the kitchen. Nearly everybody but his mother and professor Lupin were out that morning; the elders doing some Order business he wasn't included in and the twins had returned to their shop in Diagon Alley for a few hours, taking their sister along.
A long face appeared in the fire and his father tiredly told him that his brother had woken up just minutes ago and he should kindly inform his mother because he was in the middle of some investigations in Wessex. Percy nodded and went to search for his mum, finding her in the living room knitting a black jumper.
"Ron's woken up," he informed her rather anxiously. "Dad just called over to tell you. He's busy so he's asking us to go over."
She sighed relived and put her handiwork away. Then she frowned.
"What's the matter?" Percy asked.
"One member of the order always needs to stay at headquarters, but I think Remus is sleeping. And he so desperately needs to sleep, the poor man. Would you mind terribly to go? Tell Ron we'll come over as soon as possible. But I really, really can't leave the house right now," she sniffed and got up to get something from her knitting-bag.
"Here, take this with you. He'll probably need something to wear if it's cold," she handed him a blue jumper with a quaffle on the front. He nodded and shrunk it to fit inside his pocket, before he went to fetch his cloak. Slightly worried how his brother would welcome him, he left through the front door and apparated away.
At the reception he asked the welcome witch where to find his brother and they told him to the fourth floor, "Spell Damage" and then ask again. Slightly put out, he used the elevator to the right floor and promptly encountered a – well – good-looking blonde witch. She was chewing some pink Muggle sweet and carrying a food tray. Trying to get her attention, he followed the girl to an open door. By chance he saw the red-haired teen inside, therefore it was unnecessary to ask her anything after all. Pity!
Ron looked up when Fiona entered the room, and behind her–
"Percy?" he asked incredulously. He had not expected his elder brother to show up.
"So you're related?" his angel in nurse-robes asked happily.
Percy answered her and she told him merrily that the doctors said he could take his brother with him directly. Everything would be alright as long as he'd take it easy for some time and swallow his medicine to soothe the inflamed nerves. She gave Percy some instructions how to handle things along with a form where he had to sign, before Ron was officially released.
The doctors had already removed the belt that, according to them, had stabilized his lower backbone the first few days and later had simply been left on to ensure he wouldn't fall out of bed when he might have a nightmare. Which he did, so he was quite happy they had kept things the way they did.
Percy helped him out of the hospital gown and to dress in the pyjama bottoms he had worm the night of the attack, before his older brother transfigured the fabric to resemble muggle jeans. He took the jumper his mother had knitted for him, relieved that it wasn't maroon, and pulled it over his plain white pyjama top. Nobody would notice it wasn't a long-sleeved t-shirt anyway. Then Percy packed him into his cloak and they left through one of the many fireplaces in the entrance hall. Leaving the floo-network at Percy's flat, they luckily only had to walk about fifteen minutes back to headquarters.
His mother directly ordered him back into bed, after hugging and pestering him thoroughly about his welfare and then left him alone. Bored, he had read a Quidditch magazine Fiona had given him to read while he was waiting for his parents, but soon he was too tired to read, so he put it away and closed his eyes. In next to no time he was snoring peacefully.
R&R!
