A/N: So, I've had a really, really shitty couple of days lately, and unfortunately I took out my irritation and whatnot on Harry. I'm sorry. But it does get better! Quidditch is mentioned. Also, I'm going on vacation for the next week, so I'm not sure just when I'll get the next chapter out. I'll still be writing, just not on the computer =)
Disclaimer: Do I look like JK Rowling to you? I didn't think so. DON'T SUE ME for the love of God. I have no money anyway.
A/N: WARNING!!!!!!!! Torture and gore ahead. There's a reason why this fic is rated R, and it's not just for the romance, kids…
Chapter 22: When the North Wind Blows…
Voldemort sat in his private 'study', eyes half lidded as he listened to the gibbering nonsense from the man in front of him. He sat slouched in his seat, hands folded contentedly on his stomach with his ankles crossed as he took in the scene before him. A ring of Death Eaters obscured the view of the walls of the room, hiding the various implements and 'special' devices that Voldemort's torturers were so known for. Ezekiel, one of the Dark Lord's oldest supporters, was in charge of his Lord's entertainment that night. Ezekiel had a knack for the more – persistent type of torture; he reveled in breaking both the victim's body and spirit. The fine haired older man was wielding red hot needles at the moment, sinking them into the smoking flesh of the bound man's feet, knees and groin, each action pulling agonized screams from his victim.
The victim was an older man, who'd already had half of his skin on his arms removed; Ezekiel had needed to resort to spelling his captive still – there was a precision needed in order to skin someone alive, and Ezekiel hadn't appreciated the bound man's struggling. It threatened to mess up his work. His Lord had bored of the skinning early on in the evening, so the torturer moved on to pulling several of the captive's teeth, hoping that the free flowing blood would please his master. Ezekiel had also taken the great pleasure in shattering his victim's ankles as well – the wet sound of the bones snapping always sent a thrill through his wiry frame.
Quite a resilient old man; Voldemort was vaguely amused at the older wizard's tenacity. When he had ordered a torturing session for his private chambers, he hadn't expected for it to take as long as it had. The graying man had put up quite a fight for his Ezekiel; several times Voldemort could have sworn his head torturer was almost – put out by the victim's lack of response. But, like everyone else that's been in Ezekiel's care, he broke too. The thin pale torturer was now happily sticking needles through the agonized man's flesh, a small smile of satisfaction on his face.
It had taken threatening the older wizard's granddaughter for him to finally break the man. Ezekiel delighted in talking to his victims as he plied his art to their bodies – the thin man wanted, more than anything else in his sessions, to break a person's mind and spirit. It gave the torturer an extra rush, a charge in knowing that even though the physical wounds could be healed, the emotional and mental wounds he inflicted would never, ever heal. Ezekiel had lovingly and thoroughly laid out for his bound captive exactly what he planned to do with the sweet, pliant body of his victim's granddaughter. The older man had crumbled almost instantly, weeping brokenly as Ezekiel pressed on.
The Dark Lord eyed the body in front of him. Pathetic, emotional fool. Voldemort hid a sadistic grin; Ashton McVir had no idea that his entire family had already been destroyed – he'd been out of the country, and the Dark Lord had ordered him taken before he could return to his homestead and find the…lovely remains of his household. The older man also had no idea that the dried, leathery heart that sat next to Voldemort on his desk was the very heart of Ashton's only grandchild, his precious little Mia. That the heart still beat occasionally, and shuddered, particularly when Ashton screamed – well, it was for the best that the old man had no idea whose heart it was. The McVir clan was old, in both lineage and power. Voldemort took particular pleasure in destroying the ancient line, in knowing for sure that the entire, noble lot of them was dead and gone.
The Dark Lord had no particular need for any more information from the man. All the details he had needed to get his special…project on the way Ashton's wife had answered a week before, while they slowly cut her to pieces, one joint at a time. Voldemort smiled cruelly at the memory – the blood had splattered everywhere, almost completely painting the floor and ceiling with the rich color of newly spilt blood.
A stir in the ranks of his Death Eaters made Voldemort's attention move away from the writhing man in front of him. A cloaked and hooded figure pushed its way to him, moving to kneel before the frowning Dark Lord, holding up a scroll for his master to read. Voldemort slowly took the offered scroll, unrolling it carefully and letting his eyes flick over the information. What he read made his eyes blaze with fury. Curtly he gestured for Ezekiel to end the session, ignoring his torturer's put out expression.
"Bring me Wormtail," Voldemort's voice was soft; the sound of it made the hair on the back of his Death Eater's necks stand up, and even Ezekiel paused to look at his master. The Dark Lord's voice held pain in it, pain and death. Slowly the pout eased from Ezekiel's face as he contemplated the tone of his master's voice. He might yet get to play even more that night. With a smile he slit his victim's throat, his pale eyes greedily watching the older man struggle. He watched as the light died from the other man's eyes, his fascination with the moment between living and dying undimmed even by his Lord's anger. Pale eyes blinked slowly at the now cooling corpse; he rose slowly, wincing a little as his joints protested. He was getting old. He sighed and moved to clean his tools, humming softly under his breath. He wanted everything clean in case his Lord decided he needed Ezekiel's…talents…once again.
*_*_*_*_*
After following Draco out of the hall, classes for the rest of the day went by in a blur for Harry. There was a constant, high-pitched ringing in his ears and alternately he would flash hot, and then cold. He tried his best to hide his discomfort from Draco, but he wasn't sure if it had worked or not. The blond kept a close eye on him throughout the rest of the day, and immediately after their last class, Draco hustled Harry to the dorms.
They were headed towards the boy's hallway when the world suddenly went gray for Harry. Distantly he could hear someone shouting and he vaguely wondered why. The room spun frantically around him and his hands and feet felt like great blocks of ice. He could feel his legs give out from underneath him, and he hoped with one small part of his mind, that he wouldn't hit his head too hard when he hit the ground.
Whether or not his head actually made contact with the ground, Harry didn't know. He was lost in a sea of gray, his eyes open, but unable to see. He began to shudder, fear now seeping into him as he fought for some sort of clarity, but the gray wasn't receding – it was only getting worse. Frantically, he mentally clawed at the sensation of being pulled under…he had a sneaking suspicion of what was about to happen but he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to have it there, in front of all of his new dorm mates.
A sinister black soon replaced the gray, and abruptly pain slammed into his head, driving a fist through his skull and raking burning claws down his back. Harry could dimly feel his muscles twist and spasm, but he couldn't do anything about it. He knew he must be screaming, but at that moment he couldn't find it in himself to care.
He staggered out onto the dream road, panting and sweating. He was shivering constantly even though he didn't feel cold. He wrapped his arms around his body and looked towards where the road led off into darkness. He didn't want to go there. He really, really, really didn't want to go there. But the road started moving him through the darkness anyway, a gentle wind the only indication he was moving at all.
Miserable, he stared up at the approaching walls of Voldemort's mind and stifled a sob. The road didn't slow down though, and with a bowed head, Harry let it slam him into the monster's mind.
Voldemort was…amusing himself, it seemed. Harry clamped a hand over his mouth and turned his head away, violently pushing down his reaction. He taste bile in the back of his throat, and with a whimper, he tried to tear his mind away from the scene in front of him. He focused on a particular problem that had crossed his mind many times over the last week. I wonder why Voldemort doesn't feel me in his mind? Is it a particular up side to the potion? A random fluke? My continuing good luck? I'll have to ask Professor Snape when I get back. Calmer, he forced his eyes open and steeled himself, then he glanced towards Voldemort's consciousness.
"Crucio."
"Crucio."
"Crucio."
"CRUCIO!"
The Dark Lord was in what appeared to be an audience room. Death Eaters surrounded him, their black robes creating a sea of black. They were all masked, faceless in the presence of their master's anger. One helpless man lay in the clearing in front of Voldemort; Harry couldn't tell if he was a Death Eater or not. The man's clothes were torn and bloody, and his skin seemed stretched too tightly over his skin as he writhed and bucked on the floor. Flecks of blood and foam flew from his mouth as he violently convulsed on the ground, his back arching at such an angle Harry was surprised it didn't snap. The man was screaming constantly, the only silence from him came from when he gasped for breath.
It was the glint of silver that finally tipped Harry off. He stared at the man on the floor in shock and rising horror. The man was Wormtail. Harry's fists clenched together and he could feel his nails bite deep into his palms. Harry hated the man in front of him with all of his heart – but a part of him felt pity for the miserable sod as well. He wondered what the rat had done to anger his Lord so much – he was about to find out.
"Wormtail, Wormtail, Wormtail. I told you, time and again, I do not allow traitors to last long in my ranks. What made you think you could get away with it? Attempting to send a message to Dumbledore…really, now, my dear boy. Who did you think you were fooling?" Voldemort's sibilant voice echoed in the room, causing Harry to shiver and pale. Wormtail was trying to warn Dumbledore? Why? And about what?
The curses were abruptly let up, and the man sagged to the ground, panting and shaking. He looked up to where Voldemort was sitting, a strange expression coming over his face. Slowly the bloody figure began to laugh, a high pitched, frantic laugh that echoed around the room and caused the gathered Death Eaters to shuffle uneasily.
"You – you – you…" the laughter turned to sobs and hiccups as the man tipped his head back and began to howl. Another uneasy ripple went through the surrounding Death Eaters. "You bloody fool," Peter finally said, softly, after quieting down – but whether the remark was meant for Voldemort or to himself, no one knew. The Dark Lord surged to his feet.
"AMBIO ACRIS!!!" Peter abruptly thrashed on the ground, his head tipped back, neck arched, eyes wide open, screaming one long peal of torment after another. Blood began to stream out of his nose and ears. Blood vessels burst in his eyes, turning them a dark, painful red. Harry covered his ears with his hands, trying to block out the sound of the other man's pain, but did not close his eyes. He could sense Voldemort tipping his head back and closing his eyes, soaking up the sound of Wormtail's suffering. A surge of lust and satisfaction froze Harry – he could feel the monster getting aroused by the sound of his follower's pain. Harry shuddered, hunching his shoulders and whimpering; he felt dirty. Voldemort's pale, scaly hands ran down his robes and brushed over the interested flesh, causing him to hiss with pleasure and Harry to moan in disgust.
"Crabbe, Goyle. Take him to my inner chambers – just as he is. Make sure to strap him down. I have one more present," he sneered, "to bestow to my most loyal of Death Eaters." Tears trickled down Harry's face and he turned away, unable to watch the two hulking men bodily pick up the small animagus and carry him away.
"Merdok, Fassir, you will stay and wait for the body. I want you to deposit it right in front of the Ministry." Harry could feel a cold, cruel smile flash across the snake-like face as amusement washed through the monster's mind. "Lets give that old fool Dumbledore something to fuss about." The Dark Lord dismissed the rest of the Death Eaters with a flick of his hand and started after the fading screams.
Thankfully Harry began to feel a tugging start just behind his stomach before the Dark Lord made it into his private rooms and the dark haired boy turned, fully intent to get out of the bastard's mind as fast as possible. But, as he made his way to the edges of the madman's mind, a shadow flickered in the corner of his eye. Harry turned his head slightly, afraid of what else he might see in the dark wizard's mind.
The little girl stood some feet away from him, no longer a ruin but whole and clean. She stood quietly in the blackness, her dark hair tied back with a pale blue bow, her eyes intent on Harry's form. The young wizard now fought the pull of the potion, trying to stop it from taking him from her.
"How…?" he breathed, looking at her. "Are you…" she nodded slowly, a sad smile on her face. Harry felt his insides twisting as he fought to stay, and the little girl took a few, quick steps to him. "But how…I saw him cut…" His face twisted up and she cut him off with a quick, soothing gesture.
"Go. We'll meet again, don't worry." Harry stared at her silently, not understanding. "Go. You cannot stay here any longer. You have to leave, or you'll get trapped here forever. Go." Harry fought for one more moment before finally giving up the fight. He let himself go and felt himself being ripped through the hole in Voldemort's mind, pain wracking his mental body as his consciousness flew back to his physical one. But even as he screamed and writhed, he could not get the sight of the little girl's eyes out of his mind – they burned with a fire that Harry could almost physically feel in his bones, in his heart. They followed him back into consciousness, the brilliant blue color the last thing he saw before he slipped into unconsciousness.
*_*_*_*_*
Draco gaped as Harry collapsed on his way to his room. The black haired boy hadn't been feeling well, he'd known that, but he hadn't thought it was as serious as this.
"Pansy! Blaise! Go get Professor Snape!" The two other Slytherins bolted for the Potions classroom, their robes flying in every direction. Draco hurried to Harry's side, managing to catch him before his head hit the ground. The blond lowered Harry gently as the smaller boy began to thrash in his embrace. The pale face screwed up, his lips pulled back and his back bowed into a painful arch. Screams were torn from the small boy as his body began to convulse.
Draco tried in vain to keep Harry secured on the floor, placing his weight on Harry's arms as best he could without crushing the boy. "Neville! Come here! I need your help. Get his legs." The sandy haired boy leapt to his side, throwing his weight down over Harry's legs. Ginny stood near them, her face bloodless and her eyes wide as she looked on at Harry's torment. Millicent stood behind her, wrapping her arms around the younger girl, supporting her as they both watched the dark haired boy's suffering.
Severus stormed through the door, Blaise and Pansy hot on his heels. All of them had potions in their hands, and as he crossed the room, the fireplace exploded as Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster tumbled out at the same time.
"Draco, Neville, move!" Severus snapped. Neville stared at the Potions Master for a moment, shocked that the man had used his given name. "Now gentlemen." The two of them hustled away from the writhing boy – although Draco looked as though he wanted to stay.
"Poppy, do you have the stretcher?" The nurse hurried over to the boy's side and unshrunk the stretcher, laying it on the ground next to the screaming boy. As gently as they could they maneuvered the boy onto it and strapped his arms and legs down. Severus grabbed a hold of the boy's face as Poppy tried in vain to get some of the many potions they had with them down his throat. Both of them were grim faced and worried, not speaking as they worked, concentrating solely on the boy beneath them. The Headmaster herded the rest of the children into the far side of the room, talking to some of the younger years quietly.
"What's wrong with him?" asked one of the first years, her big eyes wide and scared. Dumbledore soothed some hair out of the girl's eyes and sighed.
"Mr. Potter did something very brave a while ago, but also something very dangerous. And it's because of this bravery that he has to go through this pain. But don't worry child, he'll be right as rain in no time." At least Albus prayed that he would. He saw Draco Malfoy staring at him angrily, his shoulders tight and expression miserable as Harry began screaming even louder.
"AMBIO ACRIS AMBIO ACRIS AMBIO ACRIS! The rat! The rat! He's taking the rat! Sirius! Sirius! Siiiirrriiiuuss!" Harry's eyes opened, blazing green. His voice was hoarse and painful, his expression pained and panicked. The Headmaster spun around, surprised. A strange, regretful expression passed across his face as he recognized that Harry was indeed in the middle of another trip into Voldemort's mind. He crossed the room and knelt next to Severus, stopping the Potions Master before he could try to administer another calming draught.
"What else Harry. Tell me what you see," Albus gently pushed back the sweaty hair from Harry's head, ignoring everything else around him, concentrating on the boy. Severus scowled at him, his face turning black.
"Now is not the time to be pumping him for information –,"
"He's there. He's there. It hurts, oh it hurts and he's there and he's happy and oh – god, Crucio. Ambio Acris. Pain. So much pain and he's going to hurt him and it's that way and oh god oh god oh god…" Harry bucked in his restrains, tears streaming now his temples. The restraints cut into his flesh and tiny rivulets of blood began to flow down Harry's wrists. He whimpered and his hands curled into fists at his sides. Severus tried again to push forward to give Harry the potion, but Albus only stopped him again. The Potion Master's jaw muscles stood out in sharp relief as he tried to control his temper.
"For God's sake, give him the potion!" Draco finally snarled from a few feet away. The Headmaster looked at the boy sharply, silencing him.
"Harry. What else? Just a little more, where are you? Who's there, can you tell me that? What's going on?" Albus kept petting the small boy's head, ignoring the sweat and the drops of blood oozing from the scar. Harry started to sob.
"C-crabbe. Goyle. They're taking him. Wormtail…" Harry wailed, thrashing on the stretcher. "He's – he's going to kill him. The rat. He's going to make Dumbledore fuss. It's a ruse, a ruse, a ruse…" Albus's mind began to churn furiously. "Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. The rat will die."
"Where, Harry? Do you know where?"
"He's already dead! He just doesn't know that yet!" Harry screamed, throwing his weight against the restraints. "The bedroom! The bedroom! They took him to the bedroom and He, He, HE…" Harry whimpered and a panicked expression came over his face as he began to shudder. "He's going to do it. With him. In the bedroom. I don't want to see that. Please don't let me see that."
"That's enough Albus. This could kill him!" Severus snarled. Albus shook his head slightly.
"Where's the body going to be put? Did he say?" Draco tried to dive forward at the Headmaster, in order to pull the old man away from the struggling form. He hit a barrier instead and could not seem to claw his way through it. The blonde's face was screwed up painfully, his eyes shooting daggers at the Headmaster.
"The Ministry. It will be at the Ministry." Harry stilled suddenly, his eyes going wide and his face turning white.
"She's here," Harry's whisper sent chills down more than one person's spine. His wide, unblinking eyes stared at the ceiling. "She's here."
"Harry, what's wrong?" Severus pushed forward again, and this time the Headmaster let him. The lanky man pushed the older wizard out of the way and nodded to Poppy. Together they got another calming potion down the boy's throat.
"Who's here, Harry? Who?" Albus pressed, ignoring the glares from his Head Nurse and Potions Master.
"The little girl with no heart," came Harry's murmured reply. Albus froze, his eyes wide as he stared at the boy in front of him. Harry's face suddenly crumpled and he began to buck again, all intelligence fading as he fought the pain and the trip back to his body. Albus backed away from the child, his expression grave. He placed a hand on Severus's shoulder, causing the other man to look up at him.
"Inform me how he is doing," Albus said before sweeping out the door. The Potions Master glared at his retreating back, an ugly look on his face. He turned back to Harry, the look fading. Draco finally burst through the barrier separating him from Harry and threw himself down next to his godfather. He reached out and gently took one of Harry's hands into his own.
"He's so cold. His hands feel like ice," Poppy's head snapped up and she looked at him for a moment. Seconds later she was examining him closely. Her face paled.
"Severus we need to get him to the Hospital Wing immediately," her tone was clipped and hard. The Potions Master nodded swiftly and rose, levitating the stretcher and headed for the door.
"Sir? May we come along?" Ginny's voice trembled, but her face was determined. Severus paused and looked back at the small redhead. His gaze swept over the room and reluctantly he nodded.
"But not a word, is that understood? Not one breath of this is to be told to any other House. If I hear one word, just one word about what happened here tonight, the offenders will have detention every single night for the rest of the school year and have their Hogsmeade privileges revoked, is that understood?" Hasty nods from all around guaranteed complete and utter secrecy. Severus gestured curtly for them to follow and then spun around, setting a fast pace for the Hospital Wing.
As he walked he leaned down to gently push the hair out of Harry's face. Even drugged half out of his mind, the boy was still in pain, murmuring to himself as his head rolled from side to side. Oh Harry…Severus took a deep breath and lengthened his strides, forcing everyone who was following him to break into trots in order to keep up. Hang in there you silly boy.
*_*_*_*_*
Sirius was putting the finishing touches on a favorite potion of his when a frantic banging on the door caused him to jump nearly a foot in the air. He cursed as he looked down at the potion – he'd spilled the last two ingredients he'd needed to add and now the once clear liquid was turning a strange, brown color. Well, damn. He frowned. While never a genius at potions, he'd always been able to get the things he wanted done, especially when it came to pranks involving a potion or two. He brushed off his hands and headed for the door, fairly secure that the new liquid wasn't going to explode all over the room. At least, I hope it wont.
He yanked open the door, wand in hand. To his surprise, Blaise stood on the other side, and not Harry like he'd thought. Of course, if it had been Harry, he'd have entered already, he chastised himself. He cocked his head to the side, a sinking feeling coming over him. Something's wrong.
"Sirius. You have to come to the Hospital Wing immediately. Something's happened to Harry…" that was all Blaise got out before the animagus was pushing past him, transforming and bounding down the hall. Sirius could feel his heart begin to pound as he neared the Hospital Wing…Harry. Dear God, something's happened to Harry. Please let him be ok. Please let him be ok, please God. Please.
As he neared the Wing, his enhanced senses could make out the sounds of muffled whimpers and raised, slightly panicked voices. His blood rushed in his ears as he put on an extra burst of speed, hitting the slightly open door heavily, pushing it open with a bang in his haste.
Happily, the people inside seemed to be expecting him, so everyone got out of his way as he headed for the farthest corner of the room where Harry lay. He transformed as he came near the bed, ignoring Poppy's shocked gasp. His godson took up the whole of his attention.
The boy – looked like death warmed over. His skin was pale and lines of pain and exhaustion creased his face. The sight of Harry strapped down to the bed hit him like a ton of bricks, and he fell to his knees at the side of the bed, unable to take his eyes away from Harry's face.
"What happened to him?" Sirius's voice was eerily flat. No one answered. The ex-convict glanced up at the Potions Master, rage burning in his eyes. "Who fucking did this to him?" Severus lowered his head and Sirius saw red.
"You bastard." The animagus leapt to his feet, intent on killing the man who he believed had caused Harry's condition. Three spells rang out in quick succession, all pinning Sirius to the ground. He writhed in his bonds, feeling his muscles pulling, but not caring. He wanted to get his hands on that miserable sack of shit…
"SIRIUS!" Through his rage, the dark haired wizard finally realized that Remus was there and was trying to talk to him. He stilled, fixing his eyes on the haggard face of the werewolf. "Sirius…it's not quite what you think." Sirius fixed him with an icy glare.
"Sirius." The Headmaster suddenly appeared in the corner of his sight, and Sirius strained to turn his head to see him. Albus made a motion to the other Slytherins at the foot of Harry's bed and the bounds that were keeping him down suddenly disappeared. Sirius was on his feet in an instant.
"Sirius, it's not Severus' fault." That froze the animagus in place. He tilted his head, waiting for an explanation. "I'm afraid it's mine." Sirius stared at the older wizard, his body going completely still.
"Explain," Sirius's voice was flat and cold. Albus sighed and lowered his head sadly.
"Harry – wanted to help the Order. He said he felt…useless, doing nothing while the other members where risking their lives for the information I needed. He…agreed to take a potion for me, the Vision Potion. If I had known…"
"YOU BLOODY WELL LET HIM TAKE WHAT!!!!" Sirius sprung for the older wizard, only to be tackled by Remus. The wiry werewolf held him down as he spat and fought, cursing Dumbledore continuously. The old wizard said nothing throughout Sirius' entire tirade; he calmly stood there and gazed at him sadly, the twinkle in his eyes gone. Finally the ex-convict sagged in Remus's embrace, exhausted. He glared up at the wizard, fury still sparking his eyes.
"I can't believe you," he spat venomously. Dumbledore sighed and closed his eyes briefly.
"There was no other way to get the information we needed. Harry has potentially saved hundreds of lives."
"At the price of his own." Sirius struggled to get up again, but Remus wouldn't let go. "God damn it, Moony, let me up. I want to go to Harry," the werewolf reluctantly let him go, watching the other man intently in case he made another move towards the Headmaster. Sirius snarled at Dumbledore, but moved to the edge of Harry's bed, easing down on it gently, afraid as though the slight movement would wake the boy up even when all his screaming hadn't. He picked up one of the small hands, cradling it in his own. Tears began to form in his eyes and he sniffed, trying not to let them go.
"Harry, Harry. You silly boy," Sirius gently petted the hand he held, tuning out the rest of the room. The dark haired boy didn't wake up. The rest of the crowd eased back from the bed, allowing the animagus some time alone with his godson.
"How does he look?" the Headmaster asked Poppy. The nurse looked over at him, worried.
"He hasn't woken up yet, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. His breathing is fine, if shallow, and his heartbeat is finally regular. What worries me the most his the persistent chill in his extremities." She broke off and looked to the pair on the bed, her eyes resting on the still, quiet form. "There simply isn't enough information on all the possible side effects of the potion. This could be normal, or this could be a warning sign for something else. I simply don't know. I will have to monitor him more closely from now on."
She sighed and soothed her apron down carefully. Seeing Sirius Black in person was a shock – she'd been briefed by the Headmaster as to his innocence and work in the Order…but it was still something different to see him in person…my but he has a temper on him. She shivered at the memory of the fury in the ex-convict's eyes…I'm glad that wasn't directed at me. Albus looked pained.
"Keep a careful eye on him. He is – important, as you well know." Poppy felt her mouth tighten as she kept herself from retorting back sharply. Of course I know the boy is important. But he's still a boy, as well. Oh Harry…
"I'll do everything in my power to see him well," she said stiffly. Dumbledore nodded absently, stroking his beard as he gazed past her.
"Excuse me Poppy. I must return to my office." He left immediately, with one last, concerned look over at the still form on the bed. As he walked away, Draco came up the Poppy, his eyes burning a hole into the Headmaster's back.
"Will he have to stay here tonight?" the blond turned to face her, his blue eyes icy. Poppy nodded.
"Yes. I want to keep him under observation for tonight. If he's feeling better I'll let him return to the dorms tomorrow." Draco nodded serenely.
"Lovely. Then you won't mind if some of us bunk down in here with him tonight?" Poppy blinked at the young wizard for a moment.
"I beg your pardon?"
"We're not leaving Harry alone – the Gryffindors are out to get him, the Headmaster seems perfectly willing to let him die for this precious information he needs, and furthermore, I don't think you'll be able to pry Ginny or I away from his side without several strong curses and a herd of dragons. So, you wont mind at all if we sleep here tonight, now will you?" Poppy gaped at the young man in front of her, before snapping her mouth shut and letting out a snort of laughter.
"Well, if you put it that way…yes, yes. Fine." she regarded the boy carefully, noting that his posture relaxed significantly when she gave her permission. "Only you and Ms…Ginny, though. No one else. I'll not have half the Slytherin dorm invading my Ward or taking up all of my beds, is that understood?" Draco nodded quickly and hustled back to Ginny's side, bending to whisper in her ear. Her face lit up and she looked over to where Poppy was standing, gratitude in her eyes. Poppy smiled gently at her before bustling off. She needed to make sure the potions she needed were ready – she predicted a long night ahead for her.
*_*_*_*_*
Harry groaned, sleep receding from his mind and pain taking over. His muscles screamed in agony and his head throbbed in time with his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut, the blinding whiteness of his one attempt to open them confirming that he was, indeed, back in the Hospital Wing yet again. I should really just get my own bed here, he shook silently with laughter, the movement sparking more pain, I sleep here more often than I do in the dorms it seems.
A rustling noise caught his attention; the mattress dipped slightly and Harry cracked an eye open to see who his visitor was. Draco, he smiled wanly at the blond, his heart beginning to beat faster as the other boy continued to look at him intently.
"Hi," Harry's voice was cracked and wispy. It hurt to talk and Harry found himself wishing for a glass of water. Draco leaned over and picked up a cup, seeming to understand Harry's need. The dark haired boy greedily drank the water, the cool liquid soothing his throat and moistening his lips. A gentle hand soothing hair out of his eyes made him flinch, and he stared up at Draco with confusion in his eyes. Certainly that wasn't…
Draco merely smiled though, and slowly withdrew the cup, cradling it in his hands. "It's about time you woke up." His voice was warm, but the underlying note of worry in it made the hair on the back of Harry's neck stand up.
"How long was I – out?"
"Almost a full day. Madam Pomfrey was beginning to get worried." Harry raised an eyebrow at the blond; Draco merely shrugged.
"What…how many people saw what happened last night?" Harry looked away from the other boy, focusing his gaze on the far wall. Please don't let them freak out on me. Please, God. Let them understand, give me a chance to explain things to them…
"More than half the House saw you…saw what happened to you. They're all very worried; Pomfrey's had a fit trying to keep the younger years out of here. They all want to come in and see how you're doing for their own eyes." Draco reached out and turned Harry's face back to his. "No one has a problem with what happened last night, Harry. All everyone's worried about is whether or not you're ok." Harry blinked rapidly, scolding himself mentally for falling apart in front of the other boy. Get a hold of yourself, dammit. With some struggle, he finally pushed the threatening tears away.
"I'm glad they're…uh, alright with it." Harry said nothing as Draco's fingers lingered on his face. The blonde's eyes clouded suddenly.
"You should know that Sirius found out you took the potion. He was here all night, sitting by your side. He finally fell asleep a little while ago…I think Pomfrey put something in his tea to make him go to sleep. He was pretty upset."
"At me?"
Draco looked at him, frowning severely. "Of course not, you idiot. Why would he be upset with you? No, he just really, really hates the Headmaster right now. As does most of Slytherin, I assume." Draco's expression left little doubt that he was also one of the Slytherins who wanted Dumbledore's head on a platter. Harry shook his head fervently, then stopped and winced. His headache seemed to multiply by a thousand; he could feel the pulsing in his head echoing in his teeth. He hissed slightly and Draco tensed.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Liar. What's. Wrong?" Draco's voice was hard and insistent.
"My head. It hurts. Oh, where's the bucket, I'm gonna be sick," Harry heaved himself to the edge of the bed, emptying his stomach into the waste can that Draco summoned in the nick of time. Harry wretched painfully, nothing but bile coming up; it did nothing to alleviate his headache – if anything it only made it worse. Harry sagged, hanging limply at the side of the bed, eyes closed firmly. The room was beginning to spin around him, and he really did not appreciate the sensation.
Soft hands soothed his hair back and a cool rag was suddenly on his face, wiping away the sweat and the mess. "Harry, Harry, Harry. We really need to discuss your martyr complex." The dark hair boy snorted wearily.
"Shut up you."
"Oh, and your ego needs to be addressed as well." Harry smiled weakly, still keeping his eyes closed. Draco's tone was teasing, and Harry appreciated the blonde's attempt at lightening the tension. A third voice broke the stillness that had come down between the boys. Harry's ears perked up – the voice sounded suspiciously like Sirius's.
"Ooohh. I'm going to kill Poppy." The animagus's voice was still thick with potion-induced sleep. "Mrmph. Eh? Draco? Harry!" The ex-convict's tone got significantly sharper and the sudden clatter and curses told the boy that his godfather was struggling to free himself of the sheets and hurry over to his side. Harry cracked an eye open just in time to see Sirius fall out of bed, one of his feet twisted in the covers, hindering his movement.
"Shit!" Sirius swore viciously as he landed with a thud on the ground. He growled at the sheets and abruptly yanked himself free. He twisted and was on his feet in an instant, crowding out Draco as he plopped himself close to Harry, his long hands shaking slightly as he reached out to touch his godson.
"Harry," the animagus' voice was soft and sad. Harry closed his eye again and let Sirius push back his hair. "Oh Harry."
"I'm sorry Sirius." The hand on Harry's head stilled and a long moment of silence passed before the ex-convict firmly grasped Harry's chin and made the boy look at him.
"I am not mad at you Harry. I'm so proud of you I could burst. I'm upset, yes, but I'll get over that. You have nothing to be sorry for, understood? I wont have you feeling bad for doing something the Headmaster should have had more sense about." Sirius looked deep into Harry's eyes, his expression fierce.
Harry frowned, not understanding. "But, I was the one who brought it up…"
"Harry, the Headmaster is anything but stupid. He should have known better than to allow you to take that potion. It's his bloody job to keep you safe, and not push you into it. There's no excuse for his actions." Harry shook his head faintly.
"But if I hadn't taken it then Voldemort would have had the upper hand…"
"Could have had the upper hand, Harry. It wasn't definite what the Dark Lord plans to do with his toys, and the Headmaster knew it. He had no right, no bloody right to let you take that potion. It is his job to keep you from taking the blasted thing instead of letting you take whatever you damn well please because you're feeling guilty." Shame flushed Harry's face as he looked away. Sirius sighed and mentally smacked himself.
"Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I – please look at me." Harry reluctantly brought his gaze back to Sirius. "I love you. I will always love you, even when I'm upset at you for risking your neck, your life and your sanity for the well being of others. You're a good person, Harry. Never be ashamed of that." Harry nodded carefully, his heart beating heavily in his chest.
"He's also a good person that bloody well needs to develop his Slytherin side to its full extent." Draco sighed dramatically and shook his finger at the dark hair boy playfully, dispelling the tension in the room. "You forgot to get the Headmaster to promise you whatever you wanted in return for his information!" Harry snorted and rolled his eyes at the blond.
"Draco…" Sirius grinned at the two of them, the stiff set of his shoulders relaxing.
A noise from the entrance had Sirius rolling off the edge of the bed, transforming and crawling under the edge of the cover with only his nose sticking out. Harry and Draco sat tense on the bed as they looked forward to spot the person entering. To their immense relief, the only person who came through the door was Madam Pomfrey. Draco mentally scolded himself for not thinking to put up a locking charm on the door. Really, what an idiotic slip! He nodded to Pomfrey as she passed – her quick eyes glanced down as she passed; she knew where Sirius was hiding. And Sirius knew it too, judging by the sound of his growls as she passed.
"You can come out now Sirius." The animagus wiggled free and pulled up a chair, letting Draco stay close to his godson. Harry sighed and fought his way into a sitting position, letting Draco help slightly. He winced as he finally got settled, and before Draco could move to call for Pomfrey, the medi-witch was already at Harry's side with several potions for him to take. Harry drank them down quickly, not caring for the taste, but grateful for their effects.
"Thank you," he smiled at Poppy. The medi-witch smiled back at him and bustled away, taking the empty potion vials with her. The windows of the Hospital wing were open, and the brisk fall breeze carried with it the sounds of the Quidditch pitch – Ravenclaw, I think. He frowned and tilted his head, listening intently as his headache dimmed.
"Harry, what is it?"
"Is that Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff practicing on the pitch?" Draco blinked at Harry for a moment before a smile formed on his face.
"Ravenclaw."
"Ah. I thought so. How strong is their team this year?" Sirius let out a sharp bark of laughter and quickly covered his mouth, attempting to stifle his mirth. "What?" Harry's face was lined with confusion.
"You – you – you…only you would go from screaming your throat bloody to quizzing Draco about quidditch teams. Oh Harry. Never change." Harry blinked at his godfather, eyeing him warily.
"Sirius, are you feeling alright?" Even Draco had a fond expression on his face as he looked at Harry, and the dark haired boy was acutely aware of the attention.
"I'm fine, Harry. I'm fine."
"Good." Harry let his eyes linger on Sirius for a moment before returning his gaze to Draco. "So. Ravenclaw. They lost a beater last year, as well as their best chaser, so I'm not sure exactly how strong they will be. Has anyone from the House team gone out and scouted them?"
Draco smirked at him. "Of course we have. Ravenclaw has been weakened, but they aren't to be dismissed out of hand. They play Hufflepuff at the end of the week – it should be an interesting match." Draco studied his fingernails, ignoring Harry's brief, pained expression. Hufflepuff. Cedric. He closed his eyes briefly and swallowed down the pain and sorrow.
"Yes. It should be. When is…when is our first game?" Harry opened his eyes, forcing the bitter pain away as he focused on quidditch strategy.
"Week after next," Draco pulled a face, slouching down in his seat. "I think Dumbledore mucked about with the schedule. But, it does give us a chance to check out the other teams and get you back on your feet." Draco knew the Slytherin House team was good – but he had wanted to get the team out on the pitch early in the season and dominate the rest of the Houses. That way they would be far too cowed to make a rally for the Cup later in the season. Ah well. We'll simply have to utterly crush our first opponents. Draco hid an evil smile. They were playing Gryffindor first, but he wouldn't tell Harry that just yet.
Harry frowned slightly, pursing his lips absently as he stared off into space. "Well. Yes, that does end up working out, now doesn't it? But still, I'd would have rather had the first game of the season. Intimidation and all that." Now Draco did smile.
"I like the way you think," the blond murmured. Harry blushed and Sirius laughed. They then settled down and began planning out their opening game strategies. They wanted everything to go perfectly for their first opponent's crushing defeat. Sirius watched the both of them with warm eyes – he wasn't blind. He eyed Draco speculatively, but finally gave a small shrug. If he makes Harry happy…Harry, however, seemed mostly clueless, which amused the animagus greatly. I wonder when they'll both figure it out?
He smiled to himself and interjected a comment or two, letting the boys take the lead in the conversation. They looked good together, right. Black and white. Night and day. Perhaps I ought to…ah, help them out a bit? Sirius turned the idea over in his head. It would work, but he'd need Remus's help with it. Right, then. First thing on the to do list. Convince Moony to help me get Harry and Draco together. Item two, kill Dumbledore. Item three, torch the Weasley Burrow. Item four, beat most of the Weasley men into bloody pulps. Item five…
End Chapter 22
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Xikum, Teen Prodigy of Ravenclaw, TanisaFyre, Usagi Serenity Yui Cosmos, Mystaea, The angelic vampire, RaNdOm Hp FaN, The Shadow Bandit, bthatcher2002, SafireMoon, Kira6, bakachan17, LadyMorgaine1, clingon87, RookRaven, Corokraze, Redmeadow, Heather, Fatalonie – The Grinning God, Jes Imagin, Renee Fay, Malfoy Snogger, Arianrhod, KoChanneo, TigerBlak, SparkySparkles, Jaded*Secrets, Peta, Jamie Lynn Potter, Bandit-Lone-Wolf, Serpent of Light, girldevil, Kate, In-The-Shadows, Jade Maxwell, Otaku freak, Kaydee, Ms. Talon, shakiya, Lady Shirubana, Blueberrie, Jen, Undead Queen, Dodo, cRazy-GIrl-3000, Lady FoxFire, Evelyna, dreamxseeker4evr, Jacquie, closetfanficaddict, xenelle, noraseyes, tati1, YuZira, Cherrygal3, Wren, NemKess, thistle5: THANK YOU FOR THE AWESOME REVIEWS!!!!!!!!
Rayvern: /smacks self/ And here I'd thought I had gotten all of those bloody typos. Sigh. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for the lovely review.
Redrum: so you got caught in that huge black out back east? /shiver. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for the review!
Athenakitty: The chill does become important. Ron won't regret things in this story. Maybe the sequel (but the jury's still out on that one). Snape was at breakfast. Lavender will get her just desserts. The Gryffindor's new plans will be shown just before Hogwart's Christmas holidays. Thank you for the amazing review =) Keep 'em coming.
Kristine Thorne: You got it in one =) I'm glad you liked the chapter. Thanks for the lovely review!!
Malfoy Snogger: I'm not a very fun-and-games type pranker; I'm a mean nasty bitch, unfortunately. So I took some of the grossest things to me and threw them at the Gryffindors. =) Rar.
Icklemonkey: Ah, but the Dark Lord wants to try and keep some sort of eye on Albus, now doesn't he? /wink. I'll work on Seamus, though it might get worse before it gets better for him. I'm glad you enjoyed the fic so far! Thanks for the wonderful review!
NayNymic: Hermione…I'll work on it. More people will start to wake up in Gryffindor, but it'll be a little later on.
Lukaret: Soon!