Chapter Title: The Wonders of Divine Intervention
A.N.: Again, I'm sorry about the wait, everybody! dodges rotten fruit I just got a new job, an currently seeing someone, and am trying to move, so life's been a bit hectic for me lately. Not to mention that this chappie has a lot of info in it and it took more time than I had originally intended to make the points I wanted. If anyone can spot all the things I didn't say in this chappie and put it in your review, along with your e-mail addy, I just might be willing to send you a teaser for the next chapter! Also, for anyone who wants an alert of when I update, please include and e-mail addy in your review and I'll send 'em out. Thanks again, everyone. Please R&R! I live to hear from you guys!
Draco went rigid as so many different things fell into the place at the sound of the simple question. He felt Harry's confusion, then surprise as he realized that, while he was clueless about bindings, let alone Triskele Bindings, Draco, apparently, wasn't.
"You know what it is don't you, Draque?" Harry asked, remembering just in time, to speak aloud. Still more than a little shocked, he turned, his stunned grey eyes meeting confused, concerned, green, and nodded.
"Yes, I know what it is, but those kind are supposed to be mere legend now." He paused, unsure of where to start. When Harry uttered a slightly impatient sound, after having made an unenlightening forey into the jumbled mass that his thoughts had become, Draco gathered himself and began to explain.
"Before Wizarding Society became inundated with Muggle Traditions," Draco started, happy to note that talking seemed to help organize his thoughts and offset the panic as he automatically slipped into a surprisingly Hermione-like lecture mode, "Wizards and witches weren't 'married', but bound by ritual ceremony, one to another.
"General bindings, unlike marriage, weren't restricted by sex or number, meaning as many as five or six wizards and/or witches could be bound together. The bindings did literally bind them together on three different levels.
"The first to be undertaken was a Heart Binding, which made it possible for those involved to identify the source and experience the emotions of the others included in the binding. Though all the bindings are permanent, the heart binding was often the first because a witch or wizard, if powerful enough, could block out the emotions of the others to the point that they were, for the most part, hardly noticeable, a kind of emotional buzzing in the back of the person's consciousness, in cases where the binding proved unsatisfactory. This was the Binding equivalent of divorce.
"The next binding, was of the Mind. The results of this binding were that the other members of the binding could identify and share each other's thoughts to the point that, in some instances, telepathy was possible, almost common. Each member of the binding needed constant.. mental .. contact..." here, Draco paused, as if the reality of what he'd been, more or less reciting by rote, had finally caught up with what he'd just experienced. Forcing the panic of realization away, he continued, "Each member needs constant mental contact or grief sets in. With General Bindings, the emotional distress could be anywhere from mild panic to intense melancholy.
"The third, and final level of binding, Spirit Binding, is generally merely an intensification and solidification of the previous two. The emotional tranference felt from the participants can become intense to the point that they seem to be one's own. Mental communication that took an active will before may happen with the slightest of intent. Even deeply seeded thoughts and half-felt emotions may spread from one binded to another. In some cases, even magick had been known to merge, causing nearly disastrous cases of accidental magick. Without the appropriate level of magickal control and/or compatibility, the final binding can lead to insanity due to irregular magickal surges.
"Bindings were finally outlawed in 1412 after an in-depth investigation proved them dangerous to most muggleborn and some half-blood witches and wizards." Finally loosing patience, Harry spoke out.
"Though I thank you for the history lesson, what does any of that have to do with us?" Harry had listened to the lecture with mild interest. Though his education in the Wizarding World had been extensive, he still knew far too little about general wizarding culture and its traditions. But while, at any other time, he'd have been fascinated, at this point, he just wanted to know what mess he'd landed himself in this time.
"I believe Mr. Malfoy is getting to that, dear boy," came Dumbledore's mild rebuke, before he turned to Draco, signaling for him to continue.
"Triskele Bindings are different, Harry. Though they do consist of the same three levels of binding and can involve either sex, there the similarities more or less end.
"First of all, the bindings start off more intense instead of gradually growing with time. Not only emotions, but also physical sensations are often spread between the bonded, affecting them immediately." When Harry's face mirrored his confusion, Draco sighed.
"That means that if one person is angry, everyone connected by the Heart Binding is either engulfed by that persons rage, or grows immediatly angry themselves. And if one person is physically aroused...," he began, grey eyes sad now.
With dawning conprehension and slight horror, Harry completed the sentence," Everyone connected by the heart binding is physically aroused."
Draco nodded.
"With a Triskele Mind Binding, those connected can literally think with one mind. Perceptions, ideas, memories can all become jumbled together or integrated within each other's minds to the point where gestures, mannerisms, speech patterns, and even natural reactions to certain stimuli become mingled among the connected." As Draco took a breath to launch into an account of Triskele Spirit Binding, Harry made a connection that Draco had been hoping he wouldn't. At least, not so soon.
"You keep using the phrase 'those connected', but wouldn't all the participants of the Binding be connected?" With a resigned sigh, Draco shook his head in the negative, before responding.
"That's another difference between General and Triskele Bindings, Harry. They're involuntary, meaning we have little control over the who and even the which of Triskele Bindings. The Binding was seen as an act of the divine, a union set into motion and blessed by the Gods themselves. It was believed that the three participants, no more and no less, were chosen at birth to be the leaders of their age. Yet the binding itself would only manifest if the state of magick itself were in peril. Merlin was thought to have been a participant of a Triskele Binding. The Triskele Bound were said to have fate itself as an ally. Destiny was more or less woven around their actions.
Another key distinction is that different levels of bindings will be the first among them. Meaning that while a Heart Binding may be the first binding between two participants, a Mind Binding maybe the first between another two. The only thing similar is that at least one of the bindings must connect them each to the other from three years after the first binding is made, and once a level of binding has, in some way, connected all three each to the other, all three bindings must be in place before three seasons pass or all three will begin a decent into madness." Draco rushed along when he sensed Harry about to interrupt.
"There's another thing. Triskele Bindings can only manifest if one of the participants isn't completely human." Here, Draco stopped, giving Harry time to let the last bit sink in. He, of course, knew that he wasn't completely human, knew he had never been completely human, despite his family's machinations for pure-blood supremacy. Sadly, he found himself trying to quiet the pessimistic voice in the back of his mind that was trying to convince him that the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Kick-Voldemort's-Scaly-Arse wouldn't want to be the lover of what, now must surely amount to a human looking, at least most of the time, magickal creature, binded or not.
Suddenly, he felt the back of his head given a hard smack. Stunned, he turned to meet Harry's amused green eyes.
"What the bloody hell was that for?" Harry grinned.
"For being an idiot," was his calm reply. For a moment, Draco was confused, that is, until a very suggestive image of a leather-winged Draco flying entwined with Harry in the sky above Hogwarts, doing things to each other that were surely against school regulations, if not Wizarding Law, popped into his head. Draco met Harry, lascavious grin for lascavious grin.
Before thier silent plotting could go too far, Dumbledore redirected thier attention to something even Harry had overlooked in the flood of new information.
"As much as I hate to interrupt, I believe we have a serious problem." Both teens turned back to Dumbledore, Harry's expression confused, Draco's, again, resigned.
"What is it, Headmaster?"
"Your third, Harry. Triskele Binding included no more and no less than a divinely blessed trinity. My dear boy, we have no idea when the first binding took place, so we have no idea how long we have until insanity begins to take hold. You only have three seasons since the first binding and if the first binding occured near the beginning of last Spring, then you have barely a week to find your third, complete the other levels of binding, and consummate the union." As Draco planned how to find someone that both of them had connected to and slept with, a requirement of the binding along with blood and magick, for complete manifestation, he could feel the controlled chaos that Harry's mind had become. Sensing that he'd found his first question, Draco mentally relaxed, putting off the mental run through, waiting for the interruptions to begin.
"How are you so sure that what's affected us is a Triskele Binding?" Pomfrey took this question, stepping forward from where she had been silently watching the discussion.
"When I began my diagnostic spells, I noticed that there were subtle, but startling physical changes to your physiology, Mr. Potter. Everything from your bone structure, the shape of your internal organs, muscle mass and density, brainwave activity, pupil shape and size, nervous and cardiovascular system interaction, and even blood cell structure have all been changed, are, in fact, still changing. But when I got around to testing your magick, I was truly alarmed. That is when I asked Mr. Malfoy to leave the room. Your magick has increased, not unexpected in itself considering your young age, but the very nature of your magick has also changed.
"While most witches and wizards have a core of magick that is aligned with power points along the spine, your magick, Mr. Potter, has expanded, permeating your body with magickal energy. You, and I now believe, Mr. Malfoy have become veritably saturated with your own magick. The only other people to ever be so severly altered, especially at such a fundamental level, have been the participantes of a Triskele Binding.
"Your body also, to a certain degree, absorbed the base magick of my spells, Mr. Potter, triggering a temporary connection that allowed you to slowly begin to drain my own magickal core. That is why I didn't stop that door that Draco so affectively blasted across the room," Pomfrey stated with a warm forgiving smile at Draco's look of mild chagrin and Harry's of slight horror, before continuing.
"Magickal Bindings also register as a part of certain, very old medi-spells taught to high-level medi-witches to this day. After Draco left the room, and the regular spells kept showing such odd results, I performed a few of those spells. I didn't get a chance to finish them before you began to mourn, but the signs, both physical, magickal, and emotional all point to a Triskele Binding. No other binding packs quite that big a punch."
"Are there no other explainations for your findings, Madame Pomfrey?" Though his tone was curious at most and his expression the epitome of casual interest, Draco knew that Harry was determined to be aware of all possible alternatives, especially those without the looming threat of insanity.
Madame Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore exchanged an unreadable look, though both could feel the resigned agreement from them and, after a nod from Pomfrey, determination from Dumbledore.
"There is a spell, gentlemen, a very old spell. It's only purpose is to determind the type and level of bond between binded peoples. Depending on the magickal strength of those involved and the levels still incomplete, the spell can be anywhere from mildly uncomfortable to highly painful. Your bodies will be surrounded by a multi-colored glow for the duration of the spell, the intensity of which will indicate magickal power. The colors themselves signify the different levels of binding, blue for the mind, red for the heart, and gold for the soul."
Madame Pomfrey gave them a few seconds to absorb what had been said. The last thing she wanted to do was cause either of her favorite, and still most frequent, patients undue pain or discomfort, but the spell was also the only way to determine which, if any, binding affected the young men. It wouldn't tell them how long the bindings had been in place, but it was a start.
After a few moments, Pomfrey addressed them again.
"There is something else." When she, again, had their attention, she continued. "The spell won't only affect the two of you. By casting the spell on one of you, it will also affect the other bonded. They will share in the discomfort and the results will also be evident, no matter where they are. If all three levels of binding aren't complete, a ring of pure white will interrupt the bands of color, indicating a break." Before either young man could ask, Pomfrey explained.
"Mr. Potter, I suspect that Mr. Malfoy and yourself share at least the first two bindings, both heart and mind, so a blue, then red glow should surround you both when the spell takes affect, but if either of you, say Mr. Malfoy, only shares a mind binding with the third party, there will be a ring of white, then another layer of blue between the previous blue and red."
Pensive expressions filtered across both teen's features before Harry, again, raised another concern.
"What if we all share every binding except the last?"
"Then both of you will have a blue, then red glow, followed by a ring of white. Then, the last color will be the gold."
"Will the person the spell is cast on suffer any more discomfort then the other participants?" Draco didn't want Harry to endure any more suffering than was strictly necessary. This, completely unnecessary sentoment, in his opinion, almost earned him another smack from said wizard. Madame Pomfrey smiled at the young wizard that most saw as unfeeling and answered.
"No, Mr. Malfoy. What pain you each endure will be in equal measure." Draco let out a small sigh. At least that was settled, they both thought.
Draco squared his shoulders, his grey eyes meeting the medi-witch's brown, determination etched in ever feature.
"Do it."
Pain.
Harry's entire existence had narrowed down to that one sensation. The fact that even Draco's hand pressed against his was but a distant shadow was a testament to how much pain he was currently in.
It hadn't started out nearly as bad. If war had taught him nothing else, it taught Harry how to bare pain stoically. So when he felt his skin heat and his blood begin to boil, he merely ground his teeth and held on to Draco's hand as he rode it out. But the burning steadily increased to the point where it felt as if, even his bones were being fried.
Sooner than his pride was comfortable with, he found himself, once again, huddled on the bed in a fetal position, desperately trying to hold in the pain. When it got to the point where he was sure his skin was melting and all his vital organs were surely turning to ask, he vaguely realized he heard someone screaming. He was in too much agony to find out who was making so much noise.
HIs last clear thought before his mind was taken over completely was to long for a simple Cruciatus curse.
The Headmaster and Chief Medi-Witch watched, with a mixture of awe and horror as the screaming, writhing teen wizards were engulfted by what, to all appearances, was a dark storm cloud, complete with bright bursts of purple lightning. The dense mist seemed to swirl fluidly around them. At times, it even seemed to go through the young men, before it slowly began to coelase, pulsing soflty.
As the fog cleared, it was replaced by a faint, pink-tinged glow that rapidly sharpened into a blinding red. The shade so violent that it was as if the color itself showed surprise. But this color was quickly overtaken by another, a deep, dark blue. The color was the blue of deep ocean, the blue of the late dusk sky. It was as dark a blue as existed without a touch of black, yet the hue was so powerful, it washed the rest of the room in it's light. Suddenly, there was a burst of dazzling white light. The purity of the color lent it a sparkle as if the light itself was reflected off of a metallic rainbow.
Up until this point, both boys had been an almost singular entity, sharing in the brilliant show of light displayed before them to predictable results, but here, it changed, as the boys seemed to live to surprise them, even now. Instead of either a red, blue, or golden glow like they had all been expecting, they were struck by a flood of bright purple light. The deep, royale purple was hightened by firey arcs of golden lightening, metal made light. The sheer amount of power radiating through this final haze was enought to shock even the wizened headmater, who almost retreated a step in his surprise.
The final phase of the spell lasted several heartbeats longer than the rest before the light disappeared totally, as if the colors weren't still dancing behind the wide eyes of their only audience.
Both teens appeared totaly exhausted by thier ordeal as they huddled, only thier hands touching, on the hospital bed. The power displayed before them had Madame Pomfrey utterly convinced that both her boys would pass out in relief at the suspension of pain, so it was doubly shocking when both young men turned to each other, sparkling green meeting swirling mercury, worry quickly outweighing echoes of pain as they each uttered one word.
"Severus."
In the bowels of the castle, tormented screams continued to echo off cold grey walls, as pained and confused obsidian eyes stared, unseeingly at the unyeilding stone ceiling. Gently waved black hair pooled around sharply angular pale features like a dark halo. The rest of the slimly muscular physique lay hidden in the voluminous velvet robes that had been heedlessly crushed between usually patient, dextrous fingers.
The figure lay alone, huddled in on itself on the carpeted floor, having fallen out of the plush navy chair now on his right. The wall on his left was taken up by a massive black-stoned fireplace, the flames within still flickering merrily away, heedless of the panting wreck of a man before them.
The man's only response to the torturous and, thus far, unexplained phenomenon before falling into welcome oblivion was an eloquently heartfelt, "What the bloody hell have they done now?"