DustFactory
McGonagall was in quite a panic herself, as the little globe that was set to go off if Potter was removed from the premises was blinking. She hadn't noticed it until now because she had been in the bath soaking her aching joints. Harry was suppose to be safely asleep in Gryffindor tower, why should she have been keeping tabs on the thing, anyway? Hogwarts was suppose to be the one place the Dark Lord could not enter. The frantic pounding of feet down her corridor was enough to confirm what she already knew.
How could I have let this happen? If only Dumbledore were here... No, I must pull myself together. The children need me now. Her thoughts were interrupted by wild knocking on her door and shouts of "Headmistress! Professor McGonagall! He's gone! Harry's g—" She opened the door wearily, allowing a crazed Ron and Hermione into her office. She hadn't been able to find it in herself to take the Headmaster's quarters and clean out his office. It seemed too final.
"I know children. Sit down." Two pale seventh-years quickly fell into the wooden chairs placed in front of McGonagall's desk.
"When was the last time you saw Mr. Potter?"
"Last night, around nine o'clock, after we had finished our Charms homework; he said he was feeling rather tired and headed up to bed. Ron and I stayed down in the common room for a while, working on the rest of our homework before we headed off to bed, too." Hermione seemed to calm a bit, being able to logically think things through.
"And what time did yourself and Mr. Weasley head up to bed?" The Scottish professor asked.
"It must have been around nine-fifteen or so, it wasn't that much later."
"Thank you Miss Granger, now, Mr. Weasley, did you see Harry when you went up to your dorm?" Something twisted across Ron's features.
"No, no I don't believe I did. I fell straight into bed. His curtains were closed and I didn't check to see if he was there or not." McGonagall rubbed tired, world weary eyes. Oh Merlin, help us all. If they've found out about Lily... She sighed; of all the choices. If she told Ron and Hermione about Lily's...condition, and about Harry's, hopefully-dormant possible condition, she hoped they would understand. After all, they were his closest friends. They must understand or-- or they were all lost.
"What can we do Professor? We can't just leave him out there. Voldemort most definitely has him, but by what way I don't know." Hermione's eyes glowed with a sharp calming light of logic. If she could think this through, from A to B, she knew they would be fine. They would bring their Boy-Who-Lived back. There was a solution here, and she could see the conflicting thoughts that danced through the Professors eyes. She was on the verge of telling them something extremely important.
"Children. What I am about to tell you, can not go past these walls. You must open your minds and look past any prejudice you may have gathered. There is a way to track Harry, but it is through a magical means that when activated, can never be shut down again." Here she paused, removing her glasses to rub at tired eyes again. "I must have your sworn words that this will not go any farther than these walls before I go on." Ron and Hermione shared a glance, wondering what could be so horrible as to require such a thing. They turned and nodded carefully at McGonagall, bracing themselves for whatever could possibly come.
"Long, long ago, when people followed the Old Ways, there was a different kind of magic, wilder, more powerful in ways, but much harder to control. This kind of magic was captured using rites of many sorts, powerful and weak. There were a few extremely powerful ones that used things that are now forbidden to use in such a manner such as blood and sexual intercourse." She could see disgust flicker in her student's eyes, and began to wonder if this had been such a wonderful idea after all. "All of the old ways were stripped from our society with the integration of Christianity and the One God. People were afraid to murmur in their own households the names of the old gods and goddesses for fear of being burnt or hung by loved ones. All that showed any inclinations of magic were killed.
"Among the order of witches and wizards alike, our own form of inquisition arose quickly out of fear, if nothing else, with those that claimed to be pure and Christian accusing the followers of the old to be Devil's spawn. Of the beings that were a part of this religion, the Incubi and Sidhe and other such creatures were placed under an order of execution. It was an instantaneous bloodbath. Babies were murdered for having 'the mark of the fey' which could range from red hair to different colored eyes. Unusual bumps of any sort of discoloration, especially around the shoulders and stomach area were deemed 'the devil's teats' and the babies were drowned."
"Professor," Hermione interrupted, "What does any of this have to do with finding Harry?" Hermione was getting fidgety at the mention of the Burnings, having read enough about them to know they were an extremely brutal time. Ron's face was twisted in a weird sort of expression, eyes gleaming strangely.
"I am getting there. If you will be patient and suffer an old woman's ramblings, you may find your answer. Back to what I was saying. A purging swept through the muggle and magical communities, many families having to go into hiding. It was believed by historians who studied the subject that most mixed magical bloodlines were wiped out, and only a few magical beings remain to this day that are compatible with humans, such as Veela.
"However, Albus," here her voice wavered, cracking a bit before she visibly caught her self, "Albus had a talent for seeing anything and everything extraordinary about his students. He noticed and caught most students with powerful magical cocktails running though their veins and offered them secret training in order to control it.
"One of these students, was an extremely bright girl by the name of Lily Evans." At this point something seemed to click in Hermione's brain, eyes lighting up as she leaned forward with interest. Ron, however, leaned back with a strong look of anger and disgust. "She came to me her sixth year in tears because another Gryffindor had noticed the bumps that ran up her sides and down over the top of her thighs. They had made fun of her and called her horrible things that I shall not repeat, and that myself and Dumbledore refused to tolerate in this school. The offenders persisted, however, and ended up expelled when they were caught trying to…force themselves on Lily.
"But Professor, Harry told us his mother was muggleborn. How could she have any sort of Succubus blood?" Hermione asked.
"Ah, I see you have caught on, Miss Granger. You are indeed a very sharp witch. Yes, Lily was a Succubus, or at least part-Succubus, but how Dumbledore never found out. We can only assume that her mother was impregnated by one, somehow, switched at birth, or some other such thing which would also explain Lily's green eyes that show up nowhere else in the Evans family tree, and her extraordinarily strong magic for not having any witch blood at all."
"Are you saying that Harry's grandmother was raped by a sex demon?" Ron's face was turning an ever-purpling shade.
"We cannot make assumptions, Mr. Weasley, we have no information that proves or disproves any theories on the matter."
"Isn't that what they do? Crawl through unsuspecting people's windows while they are sleeping and rape them? There was a good reason those monsters were killed off!" Ron was now standing and looking extremely pissed off.
"10 points from Gryffindor. Calm yourself, Mr. Weasley, or I will have to obliviate you and remove you from my office." You could see the force that went into making himself back off and sit down.
"What does all of this have to do with finding Harry? We're losing time. That Dark Bastard could have already killed him!" Ron was still fuming.
"10 more points from Gryffindor for your language. I will not have your dirty mouth in my room. One more outburst from you, Mr. Weasley, and you will be removed! Is that clear?" The Headmistress glared at the offending redhead.
A muttered, "Yes Ma'am" could be heard from a sulking Ron.
During all of this, Hermione was busy staring off into space. You could see the cogs turning in her brain.
"There was a potion..." Hermione started haltingly. "I've only read about it briefly. The Cooriortus potion; it was used to summon someone's 'inner demon', forcing any mixed blood to come to the surface, and was used in the inquisitions. ...However, it would work for summoning a person with any mixed blood from place to place if you blended it right with the transportation charm used on portkeys..." One could almost taste Hermione's tangible itch to run to the library.
"Very good Miss Granger, 20 points to Gryffindor. It has been used in exactly this manner a number of times. Could you tell me now what side effects such an attempt might have?"
"The potion would still do what it was meant to do in the first place... Harry would be left as an Incubus for the rest of his life, if the genes were not already coming into effect. Harry is already at least one-fourth Incubus, if not half, seeing as we're not sure how Lily came to be the way she was. The chances that it would have started to kick in by now are already extremely high, and if they have already kicked in, all we would be doing would be speeding up the process. The probability that Harry will live much longer if he stays with Voldemort is extremely low. If Harry is to be returned unharmed, the safest way with the least amount of backfire would to be to go ahead and use the Cooriortus potion with the modified transportation charm."
McGonagall nodded. "The Cooriortus potion must be used on the dark of the moon. That is three nights from now. That gives us plenty of time to prepare."
"Three nights! Harry could be dead by then." Hermione yelped.
"It is a chance that we will have to take, Miss Granger, as we have little to no other choice. I have faith in Harry, he's a survivor."
Cooriortus – From the Latin coorior, meaning to arise, or come forth together; oriri meaning of things; ortus meaning of people. Loosely, to rise for insurrection or fight.