Chapter 6. Lessons from the Garden.
"It is the perfect garden," Harry commented with a slight hint of astonishment, looking around. In all his years working in Aunt Petunia's flower bed he'd never had reached the level of perfection this garden had.
Neat, perfectly symmetrical rows of plants both big and small ran the length of the side of the cabin. Tomatoes, corn, beans, strawberries, potatoes, squash, peppers and others Harry did not recognize looked ripe and almost ready to harvest. The rich vibrate colors shown bright and alive under the hot summer sun. The stalks where strong and hearty, and not a wilting or bug eaten leaf was to be seen.
"It brings a tear to my eye," Winston said enchanted looking around the garden himself, "I will be an old man, out here in the hot summer sun; hoe in one hand, cane in the other. This..." he said strongly spreading his arms wide, gesticulating around the garden, "This is the power of nature. The power to provide nourishment, sustenance, and the power to continue on season after season long after we are all dead," he finished grandly.
Winston allowed himself a moment more of nostalgia before he clapped his hands together and rubbing them excitedly. "Now, to show you the spirits." Winston drew his wand, and pointed in southwest direction of the garden conjuring something Harry could not see. Winston set in motion at once toward what he conjured, Harry following curiously behind him.
"Which one of these okra plants is living?" Winston asked, pausing and directing Harry's attention to two plants in from of them.
Harry examined one leafy, two-meter high stalk, then the other. He knew that one these plants Winston had created, but he had no idea which one. He wasn't even sure he knew what okra was let alone, which one was real. Both were equal in height. Both had broad heart shaped leaves. Both had furry bean pods that looked somewhat similar to asparagus. And both had some sort of yellowish tropical looking flowers around the top. Harry even inspected the roots looking for any sign of the created plant, but again, both were equally the same.
Harry frowned, sticking his hands in his pockets giving the vegetables one more, quick look-over. "I'm not sure," he muttered finally turning to Winston. "It's a decent bit of magic, though."
Winston gave a broad smile, clapping Harry on the back. "Precisely. Good, Good. Now, close you eyes and hold a leaf from each of the plants in either hand. Tell me if you feel a difference."
Taking a deep breath, wondering if this was leading anywhere, he did as he was asked. And unsurprisingly, Harry felt as though he was holding two, cool, flat leaves. He didn't feel any difference between then two, not a thing.
"Um... Am I feeling for something specific?" he asked cynically, feeling a bit thick standing there holding on to a plant feeling for something. "I don't feel anything different."
"Talk to them," Winston returned simply.
"Come again?" Harry asked incredulously, opening his eyes to face Winston. "You want me to talk to them? They're not even magical plants, what good would talking to them do?"
Winston just smiled in return; saying again, "Talk to them."
Harry shook his head, wondering once more if these Druids were sane and not completely mad. Working in Aunt Petunias' gardens most of his life and he'd never talked to any of her plants before. What good would standing here like an idiot speaking with vegetation do to help him tell the two apart? But when he looked back at Winston with an eyebrow arched, as if to say, "Are you sure?" the older man just nodded once in the affirmative and gave him a little wink.
Harry shrugged his shoulders in response, figuring that Winston was in fact, completely barmy. But seeing no alternative other than to flat out refuse, he began to speak.
"Hello? How are you doing? I'm Harry. It's... Er... very good to meet you," he said with the most serious voice he could muster. But really, he felt incredibly ridiculous and was extremely pleased that nobody but Winston could see him in this embarrassing predicament.
But just then, when he felt his humiliation at this little venture rise and he was defiantly going tell Winston to forget it, something stirred in Harry's right hand.
The leaf itself was not what stirred; it was something else. It was something slightly beyond, or around the leaf. Like a small vibration maybe. It was gone so quickly Harry wasn't sure he'd even felt it at first. But he felt a bit less skeptical. Maybe this wasn't so insane after all?
He shifted himself in a closer position and asked, "Could you... um... show me which one of you is real? Please? I'd... Like to meet you acquaintance," he finished lamely.
Again, he was only holding two cold, dry, heart-shaped leaves in his hands. Harry stood there for a moment feeling for any small hint of what he'd just feltHe was about to give up again thinking what he felt before might have been a product of his own imagination; his own heartbeat, a wisp of wind, or something else entirely. But then, to his surprise, the right leaf quivered again.
It was light at first, a flutter. But then the fluttering strengthened into the sensation of tiny heartbeat, pulsating away in his right hand. Warm currents spiraled around Harry while his eyes snapped open in amazement. He actually felt that the plant was friendly, curious even, happy.
There was shyness to it though; Harry felt dropping his left hand unconsciously. It was like it wanted to say hello shyly and run away again like a child might. And he wondered how he knew this. How he knew what it was feeling.
"It's this one...," he said slowly letting go of the plant completely.
"And how do you know?" Winston asked him folding his arms in front of him.
"It well, moved I guess. And then I felt like... like it was friendly but wary of me. Like it was timid, or shy," he answered. He knew that this was true, but saying it was just well, unusual.
"Very good Harry," Winston said nodding his head. "What you felt was the spirit of the plant. There is one in everything in this garden. There is one in everything living or breathing on this planet. It has emotions, and knowledge just as we do. To a different extent certainly, but they have them even so. And if you know how to look, if you know how to listen, they can help you and they can guide you. And that is one of the reasons, why we as Druids honor the plants, and animals, and spirits of the land."
"Watch," he breathed reaching out to the tall plant, stroking it gently. He whispered to it in comforting, soothing tones, like one would a child to ease a frightened child. Harry watched closely as the older man began to sing in a low warm voice that steadily rose higher and higher in some language he did not know.
Some moments later the outline around the okra began to ripple, as Winston continued to sing gently. The very air surrounding it became think and pliable. Then, right before Harry's astonished eyes it glowed bright iridescent green, and pulsed in the same succession he had felt in the palm of his hand.
"There we are," Winston said serenely. "You needn't be shy, Harry is here to learn our ways. Will you show him?"
The glow around the plant shimmered for a moment as if accepting the task and gradually expanded a string of its radiance to Harry. Harry, still dumbfounded at the marvel before him slowly, without thinking, reached his own hand forward toward the glimmer of the plant. He was not sure what was going to happen, but he felt as though it would not harm him, and that was going to show him something.
And then it happened. When Harry's' fingers met the tip of the light and the two made contact, Harry's mind blacked out for a moment and then raced with a thousand different images of the gardens life. It was like watching a time-laps photography film that displayed a developing thunderstorm, or a budding rose.
...Winston and the younger children planting the first seeds of the year... ...The clan blessing the newly seeded earth...
...People dancing around a large bon-fire in the ring of stones on the hill, while the first hints of green broke through the ground...
...A down pour, the beasts from the meadow coming close, but never entering the space, while the newly sprouted plants dancing to the rhythm of the rain...
...Dreia talking animatedly to the plants, and raising some sort of energy, while the plants reached adolescence, shoots and leaves spreading over their developing bodies...
...Another blessing from an unknown man, while the sun baked away the grass beyond the garden, the plants flourished with the first signs of reproduction...
...The sun rising and setting day after day, Winston working happily amongst them, the goings on of the meadow below them...
...Harry himself standing before the okra looking completely bewildered...
And while all these images raced before Harry's eyes, he felt deep down inside at his core the moods the plants associated with all these happenings. The elation of the newly risen sun, the terror at the torrential down pour of the thunderstorm and the beasts of the meadow, the quiet purr of calm, while members of the house hold talked to the plants and the radiant love they felt for Winston, as caregiver and friend. All making Harry's head reel, his gut ache at the spectacular readjustment of his reality.
Then, just as suddenly as they had started, the memories ceased. Harry was once again, looking at the tall plant, connected to its wildly pulsing aura.
Harry was dazed. He couldn't even begin to fathom what on earth that was all about. He was about to turn and ask Winston, but before could he was abruptly jerked forward in a rush of green wind and introduced the each and every one of the beings in the garden in rapid succession. His was hand firmly attached to the buoyant spirit of the plant as the pleasantries were made only a heartbeat apart, flashes of colour and smell whizzing by him. There were no names, or forms, but distinct attitudes, and different personalities in all the flora of the garden.
And just as rapidly as he'd left, Harry found again himself brusquely shoved back in the same spot he started in. His heart raced, and body trembled with an adrenaline-induced scuttle at what he'd just seen an experienced.
Harry gazed dumbly, eyes glazed, at Winston for a moment before collapsing on the ground in heap narrowly missing some tomato plants.
Winston roared with laughter, clapping his hands together while Harry groaned from the floor rubbing his hands under his glasses and over his eyes.
'I was wrong, there are things worse the Occlumency,' he thought to himself, staring up at nothing in particular in vast deep blue summer sky. He wanted desperately to run up to the little room and lie on the bed for a while, so that maybe he could work out what he'd been shown. And why he'd been shown. What did this have to do with the ability of the elements add power to elemental spells?
But before he could think on it more, a shadow passed over him blocking out the sun. Winston was standing above him offer his hand, and two hoes held in other.
Harry accepted Winston's help gratefully and stood once more. He was about to bombard him with questions, but the older man cut Harry off with a wave, before he could start.
"You must understand yourself, first," handing him one of the garden tools. "Just listen, you will understand," he told Harry with certainty.
"But?"
Winston shook his head and pointed to the garden, "You will understand."
Harry scowled at this. He was expected to figure out something he could barely comprehend, but he was expected to weed as well? What good would that do? What would he understand?
Harry decided to take whatever side of the garden was furthest from this mad man who'd just led him on a carnival ride of the grandest proportions. At that moment he wanted little to do with any of them. 'Just listen, you will understand,' he thought to himself in tiny mocking voice, starting with some beans. Listen to what? Sure he knew now that they weren't just plants. But that didn't mean he had the ability to listen to them!
Harry sour mood continued while he worked steadily and silently among the vegetables, relieving the garden of grass and dandelion. He just could not understand what all this was about. Why any of this was relevant to the spells he would acquire to help him defeat Voldemort.
'No. Don't you dare even think it,' he chastised himself. 'You'll do yourself no good to go down that path. You know where it leads.'
So instead he decided to think of nothing except the work in front of him. Harry was never very good at thinking of nothing. Case in point would be Occlumency. Sometimes he actually would try and clear his mind, but it never worked. There was always something going on for him to think about. Something to slip in there and cause the work he so carefully crafted to slip away before he even realized it. This time, he thought about the plants. Hoping against hope that one of them would leap out at him and answer his questions.
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Later that afternoon Patlyk decided to help with the work in the garden, and joined in the verse that Winston had been singing. Harry didn't understand a word of it that wafted to him, but it was sweet, pleasant-sounding melody that had appeased his previously bitter mood.
And for once, he might have been almost happy to be doing this work. To be doing something that for years he'd regarded as an endless, lonely chore that his Aunt and Uncle had given him to do because it was beneath them, with 'that boy' around. But something changed for him when the spirit had showed him the gardens life and the individuals in it. It wasn't so lonely, just quiet. The plants were alive, he could feel it now, but did not say anything directly, which allowed him to think about anything or nothing in particular.
He still hadn't figured out what the okra had been trying to communicate to him. But he felt like the answer was there. Like it was just beneath the surface he couldn't scratch hard enough. The same questions floating over and over again through his mind...
'They are trying to tell me something, show me something,' he thought, as he pulled at a particularly stubborn patch of grass with his hands. 'But what are they trying to tell me, exactly? What could the spirit be trying to show me that have to do with the scenes of their life? '
But the garden stayed silent, keeping the answers Harry wished would pop out at him and relive his curiosity hidden.
Finally, the weeds and grass gone as far as Harry could see, he set off to join the other men. He was sweaty and tired, but oddly satisfied.
He found Winston and Patlyk at the edge of the garden talking. When they noticed him approaching however, they stopped their conversation to radiate large smiles at him as he neared.
"You're excellent," Winston complimented. "Normally this garden takes me two days to tend. You cut that by half. I thank you." Winston said inclining his head. "Nothing like two young backs to make your day easier."
Harry mumbled something like "Thank You," and "Years of training," but Winston didn't seem to hear him. He asked, "Did you find the answers to your questions?"
Harry hung his head with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. He had no idea that plants could be so mysterious. "No, nothing," he answered, a disappointed sigh right behind it. "I was listening, but they weren't...."
Just then something clicked in Harry's head. Something he'd completely passed over. The epiphany he'd been searching for all afternoon was right there in front of him and he'd barely noticed. He couldn't believe he'd missed the one word that made all the difference.
'They'The spirit of the plant hadn't shown him its life. It showed him their life! They were connected somehow. They were all individuals yes, but they had some sort of link, where they could see with the same 'eyes', hear with the same 'ears', think the same 'brain'. They shared a mystical connection to each other.
But how?
Harry practically threw the hoe he was holding as he threw his arm to the side, palms up with a forming astonished 'o' in place of his lips. This was only to be met by the knowing, grinning looks of Winston and Patlyk.
"How?"
"We are all connected Harry, not just the vegetables. This is how they will help you, that connection," Winston answered, as if it were something a child should know. Then he clapped his hand together and said merrily to the two young men, "I'm filthy, and starved. I wonder how Jinky's magnificent roast is coming," and turned without another word turned and walked toward the house.
"But...." Harry breathed. He was momentarily stunned, that the man would just leave him hanging there with so many unanswered questions. Why would he just leave?
"That's it?" Harry asked no one in particular, although Patlyk was still standing there with an arrogant eyebrow raised in the direction of Winston's retreating form. "Hey Harry, you've been stuck at your rotten relatives for three weeks, but we're going to take you to a on a whirl-wind journey with an okra, and not we're not going to tell you why or how??? What good does that do me!" he almost yelled, his confusion becoming frustration.
"He won't tell you,'' Patlyk sighed turning back to Harry. "That's his way. He'll just leave you to figure it out for yourself." He gave a divisive chuckle, "I remember this one time when..."
But Harry wasn't listening. He was incensed. This was just like any of the many conversations he'd had with Dumbledore. He'd have just been through the impossible, extraordinary, or supernatural even, and Dumbledore would give him a token note of wisdom and send him on his way to figure out the rest! Harry didn't want to figure the rest out. He didn't want to have to sit there and think about every little aspect of, well everything! Just tell him how to do it, how to get the job done and he'd do it. But OH NO... That was to good for Harry, you had to make him think. Make him exercise his feeble little brain, because he had nothing better to do than to sit around all day figuring out the puzzles and riddles of old men!
Did they even think? Did they ever stop to think that all of this was completely surreal and bizarre to someone who up until 5 years ago had no idea that magic existed? That ghosts and goblins and elves and witches and wizards and bloody Blast-Ended Skrewts did in fact exist? And now normal, unassuming, un-magical plants talked and had some sort of collective conscience that he was supposed to tap into?
"What-The-Hell!" he hissed under his breath, looking at a now vacant front door breaking Patlyk off mid-sentence. "How on earth am I supposed to figure out how to do that? How they do that?" he ranted.
"What's going on here?" a feminine voice asked from behind him.
"Vegetables," Patlyk answered.
"I'm throwing a temper-tantrum, that's what," Harry admitted rounding on Dreia. "How am I supposed to learn how to connect to the elements?"
Dreia looked confused. "Did you not..."
"I did, but Winston was the one that called them. And then I worked in the garden all afternoon trying to figure out what I'd been shown and then..."
"I see," she said cutting him off, realization dawning on her face. She reached out gently for his arm looking him in the eye. He really wanted to know what that sensation she was causing him was. "How did you feel, working the garden after the trip?"
Harry frowned; this was not what he expected to be asked. "Sorry?"
"How did you feel?"
"I um... I don't know exactly?" he answered perplexed, searching her face and demeanor for the answers to his questions. Did how he felt have something to do with the connection?
"How do you feel when you create magic? When you're doing what ever bit of magic you like to create?"
"Good?"
Dreia rolled her eyes, let go of his arm and wiped around and with a flourish of her hand conjured a stack of hay 20 meters away.
"Hit the target," she said turning back to him impassively.
"With what?" he asked, stupidly.
"You head," she deadpanned. "Your wand Harry, use your wand!"
"Oh, right"
Feeling not only ashamed of himself for not keeping his emotions in check, again, but also feeling like a complete idiot for not understanding the obvious, he turned toward the target. 'At least neither of them laughed,' he thought miserably.
He lifted his wand out of the waistband of his jeans and yelled "Stupefy!" A thin, dazzling jet of red coursed out of the tip of his wand and in to the center of the haystack burning a narrow hole through the center, taking some his anger and frustration with it.
"Very good," she said impressed. "Now how do you feel?"
"Good? Glad I don't have 15 owls swooping around my head... yet."
Dreia made a very low, almost inaudible growl in the back of her throat, and her eyes flashed dangerously. Apparently this not what she wanted to hear.
"This would be my queue, to go...find something else I really should be doing... See you at dinner Harry!" he said with false cheerfulness, turning around with purpose toward the house. But before he could move more than an inch, Dreia barked, "Oh no you don't. You'll stay put and observe. Wand at the ready Harry!"
She immediately fell in to a defensive stance, Harry following her lead. He had no idea what was going on, but from the look in her eye and the way her skin seemed to crackle with magic she was not happy with whatever offensive he had caused. 'Yes they are mad, defiantly.'
She looked him up and down once and muttered something under her breath, and dark line of grey shooting out her hand.
"Protego!" Harry cried. He had no clue what the spell was that she shot at him, but has no intention of finding out the effects. Instead side stepped the spell even with the shield, and he fired back with the stunner.
She whirled around and disappeared before the spell reached the spot where she once stood, and hit the ground with a small blast behind it. His eyes darted around the area, wondering momentarily where she'd gone, just before the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
"How do you feel now?" whispered a low deep voice suddenly in his ear, making his skin crawl and his pulse race.
Harry spun in the direction of the voice, shouting the impediment jinx, but there was no one there, save for a shocked Patlyk who jumped out of the way just in time.
A wave of amused laughter came from everywhere and nowhere, as Harry looked around from the source of the voice he could not see.
"How do you feel?" it asked again.
"Where are you," he breathed, his irritation creeping back up again.
"Over here," came Dreia's clear strong voice, now behind him. He spun on his heel to see her lazily leaning against the bale of straw she'd created just moments ago. She was toying with her oddly shaped wand, looking intently in his direction.
"How do you feel?" she called again.
"What does that have to do with anything?" he snapped.
"Not good enough Harry," she threatened. "If you are ever going to make the connection, you need to have more of an emotional vocabulary, other than 'Good.'"
She waved her wand in a complicated pattern producing a current of white flame that raced toward him with astounding speed. Harry, cast the protego shield again but it shattered under the weight of the curse pushing him backward on to the unforgiving ground with a great thump. He barely had time to throw the rest of himself completely flush with the ground before the flame passed over his head, exploding into a bush by the porch, setting it on fire.
"How do you feel?" she asked again, in the same calm, indifferent voice.
"I feel bloody pissed off!" he roared, rubbing the back of his now throbbing head and making to stand once more. "What are you playing at?"
"Trying to get you to open up. You seem to respond to direct conflict," she replied conversationally, "so that is the angle I'm taking. A good ignipugna spell will block that curse bother way."
She moved her palms again, this time forming a jet-black orb of fire between her hands. With a quick shift of her palms the orb flew ominously toward an alarmed Harry, and accelerating the closer to him it got. Not waiting around to find out if the spell she'd mentioned would work against the spell she fired, he quickly cast it, and jump out of the way, hoping for the best.
His hope turned out to be a thin, six-foot tall wall of rippling bright yellow flame. The lemon yellow became a murky orange for a moment as the black fireball exploded against it, before disappearing into the ether.
'Fight fire with fire indeed!'Harry stood impressed at his own spell work for just a moment before he was again lurching back into a defensive stance to defending himself against another attack Dreia had launched. From what he could see it was a simple Expelliarmus; but what he didn't see was that is was combined with something more sinister. He raised his protego shield once again, only to have it shatter as whatever it was combined with easily breeze past his broken protection and cut his left ear, sending a trickle of blood down his neck and on to his t-shirt before he could react.
Harry stood still for a moment, wide eyed with shock that she had actually caused him physical harm. 'All of this, just to get a rise out of me? All of this to get me to express myself better? What does this have to do with connecting to the spirits?'
He raised his hand to his ear to stem the flood of blood before he regained his wits, as he noticed the jet of electric blue being sent his way. He remembered almost too late what the spell was, wary now that she'd managed first blood. But his seeker instincts took over, and managed to get back in the path of the healing spell just in time.
When it hit him, he knew exactly why Winston had appeared so blissful earlier in the afternoon. A felt a wave of calm, and relaxation wash over him, as he closed his eyes against the blue sparkling haze of the spell, letting the perplexing, worrisome duel slip from his mind. It was almost like the imperious curse, only he knew somewhere in the recesses of his mind that he could control it if he wanted. And unlike imperious he could hear clearly, and he coherently through the haze of blue. He was aware of all his senses, but he just didn't care.
The sharp stabbing pains from the cutting hex ceased, as did the throbbing pain his back and his head from when he was thrown backward to the ground. He could feel the cut on the side of his face mend back together, although it was not painful. Rather, it produced a light tickling sensation that felt like a butterfly brushing against the side of his cheek.
Having managed to heal his present injuries, the spell started working past injuries. He felt every broken-bone, every bruise and every cut he'd ever managed accessed and healed anew. Except for one.
As the spell withdrew, the blue mist fading, Harry felt the lightning bolt shape scar on his forehead prickle with irritation. It felt like it had been rubbed raw with steel wool leaving Harry himself irritated and angry. He rubbed it mechanically, once again cursing its existence. He felt helpless knowing that no matter what he did in his life, no matter was good fortune or ill came his way, it all lead back to this scar and the reasons behind it.
He pushed down those thoughts again, and focused instead on his surroundings and the impromptu duel.
Patlyk looked superiorly impassive and slightly annoyed standing off to the side. But the nervous shifting of his feet gave him away. Dreia was studying him with inert curiosity, idly leaning her back against the hay. Harry ignored both of them asked the questions he'd been longing to ask since last night in the kitchen.
"How do you do that, the blue spell? What is it?" he shouted to Dreia.
Even from where he was situated, he could see the corners of her lips turn upwards in a knowing but not telling smile and replied, "You have yet to sufficiently answer my question Harry... "
"What? How I feel? I feel frustrated, confused and annoyed. Is that what you want?"he asked, truly feeling everything he'd mentioned.
"It's a start," she approved, walking slowly toward him. After a few more silent steps she stopped, crossing her arms decisively in front of her, cocking her head to the side thoughtfully. "But not good enough," she expressed lightly.
Before Harry had time to retort he was on the ground again, with no recollection of how he got there. His vision wavered, and his head was throbbing with beginnings of a wicked headache. The vast blue July sky above him wiggled and writhed as Harry groaned out a note of aggravation. 'They are all psycho.'
For the second time that day a shadow blocked his view of the atmosphere, Dreia now leaning over him, her arms clasped behind her back and her eyebrow cocked.
"Your dead."
"Sorry?" he replied.
"If I were a Death Eater, you'd be dead," she pointed out.
"Are you a Death Eater?" he snapped.
"No," she answered lightly. "That is something we can fix though."
The shadowed girl disappeared from his line of sight. He had no idea what she was talking about, but he was pretty confident he wouldn't like it. He may not have been able to express himself fully, but when he knew something about how he was feeling, he knew it with certainty.
Harry groaned again, wishing away the developing headache so he could roll over see what she was up to. There was no need though. Another shadow crossed the path of his sight. One that made his heart sink in to the pit of his stomach, only for his stomach to want to throw it out in violent fit of nausea
'Death Eater'The two words that flashed across his mind caused a horror one only sees when they are on the brink. Had he stopped to think he would have known it was simply Dreia playing a trick on him. But instincts are instincts and seeing the white mask and black robes twice before, they took over in a flash.
He was up on his feet and firing a stunner at the figure before him in mere milliseconds. At this close range he should have been able to take her out in fairly short order. But just as suddenly as she was there, she was gone, and the stunner hit the ground harmlessly some feet away.
He swung around wildly looking to see where she'd gone off to, his heart beating a brutal tattoo in his chest. His breath was shallow, and his teeth chattered from the onslaught of adrenaline running through his veins. He looked to Patlyk from some sort of help but he too had vanished from sight. The grounds around the little cabin were completely devoid of visible human life.
"How do you feel now, Harry?" Dreia's deep soft voice echoed on the gust of wind that traveled over the meadow. Having a second to steady himself, he realized this was part of the 'game'. This did nothing to satisfy the surging dark rage that coursed through him.
'How dare she!'
"I feel enraged! Angered! Betrayed! HOW DARE YOU!" he bellowed so loudly that flock of small twittering birds in the forest took quick flight with apprehension. He knew an instant later he was over the top, that he really shouldn't be that upset. This was test, nothing more. Yet the utter disgust, the hatred he felt at seeing the same robes that had taken down Sirius, had taken down Cedric, was too much for his already fragile emotional state. It was all he could do to try and contain it and not reduce everything around him to dust out of pure anger.
"Really?" Dreia asked amused from directly behind him.
He pivoted on his heal ready to strike, the hex already on his lips, but she was not there.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" he agitatedly yelled at the top of his lungs searching the meadow for any small sign of movement.
"Call them!" she commanded from nowhere and everywhere at once. "They know where I am! They know where I hide!"
"HOW? NO ONE WILL TELL ME HOW!"
"Call them Harry, they seek you too!" wafted her soft singsong voice on another gust of wind. "Feel your anger, take hold of your emotions, connect with them, live them. Call to the garden!"
And he did. He let go of whatever hold he had on his anger and it vanished just as Dreia had in no more than a flash of white-hot rage. His blood boiled, his skin crawled and the only thing he could see through his round wire-framed glasses was red.
Immersed and swimming in his own blood lust over the anger he felt at those who wore the robe and mask he all but missed the light little tickle at the back of his mind. Something he was certain later that had never been there before that day. In his insane, chaotic state he was just reckless enough the give the fluttering green string in the back of his mind a tug.
It was the okra. It was the same shy little spirit of the bizarre looking plant he'd seen the life of only that afternoon. He'd connected. Had he not been so filled with vile, heart wrenching fury he might have been proud of himself.
'Show her to me!' he commanded with his brains voice. 'Show me where she stands! Help me find her!'
Suddenly he felt more fluttering in the back of his mind, more stings as the whole of the garden reached out of him. They twisted and turned forming one solid, thick, leafy vine. The red he saw before his eyes shifted to tones of greens and browns as the garden readily accepting his demand.
Systematically he searched the grounds with his new sight for the robe and mask. He saw Patlyk sitting on one of the porch rockers anxiously staring at him chewing on his fingernails, rocking back and forth nervously. He saw commotion on of the rooms on the lower floor, and lights turning on and off in the upper. He could smell the fresh, succulent sent of the meal Jinky was providing for supper. He saw movement in the forest, a gust of wind floating over the tops of the trees and down into the valley below it. And then he spotted what he was searching for.
Dreia still robed and masked was standing before the forest facing him, waiting. He was not about to let the moment pass him by as he brandished his wand and sent the most powerful stunning hex he could manage her way.
He expected to see the familiar jet of red streaming its way for the fake Death Eater. He expected for her to dodge or protect. He expected that that duel would once again commence now that he'd found her. What he didn't expect was what happened.
'Stupefy!'As the spell erupted from the tip of his wand, the familiar red was braided with the same greens and brown he saw before his eyes. It was twice the length of and width of a regular stunner and took off with such a surge of power that the end of his wand smoked like a gun having just fired off a round.
Dreia didn't move. When the stunner exploded out of the end of his wand she raised her arms in a wide sweeping ark toward the sky, the robes of the Death Eater melting away. She closed her eyes and tilted her head toward the heavens and a satisfied smile spread across her lips.
'No! What is she doing!' Harry thought to himself frantically watching the stunner making its progress across the grounds; all traces of his rage and odd vision he'd been looking through to spot her gone seeing her waiting to take the spell full on. This was not right!
"DUCK!" he begged shouting across the field. It was too late though. The stunner made contact with Dreia, right in the middle of her chest. The sparks and glow from the spell enveloping her. The smile faded, her arms dropped, the rest of her body following suit to the unforgiving ground beneath her.
'Shit!'Harry began to run as fast as his legs would take toward her prone form lying lifeless on the ground. What this proved, he had no idea. All he knew was that he'd been the cause of it. And if he'd hurt her, if he'd killed her... 'Oh God!'
"What was she thinking!" a frantic voice yelled some distance behind him. He could hear other feet moving in her direction now over the thumps of his own heartbeat ringing in his ears.
"Teaching of course," another shouted farther behind the first.
Harry skidded to a halt beside her in the shadow of the forest and dropped quickly to his knees. He gently rolled her over on her back looking for signs of life. He anxiously checked her breathing and pulse. Both were present, but shallow and ragged. Her hair was covered in dead leaves and her face and robes were smudged with mud from this morning's thunderstorm. The stunner had hit her hard.
While Harry was busy trying to make sure she was alive, Regulus had joined him on her other side. He was scanning her body up and down with his wand looking for signs of injury; make concerned grunting noises, his face screwed up in concentration. This continued for several minutes while Harry made silent prayers to whatever God was listening. When he was done, he relaxed back on to his calves, rubbing a hand over his face.
He turned to the group now gathered at Dreia's feet and then to Harry. "Broken rib, and possible concussion," he said sighing, running his hand through his hair.
Harry's eyes widened and his heart sank. "She's... She's going to be..." he gulped, "alright. Right?"
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Regulus mumbled more to himself than everyone else.
Winston piped up, "Come now, man! She was doing her job!" he laughed. "Wonderful spell work Harry!" he said coming around the side and clapping him on the back.
Harry said nothing. He didn't feel like being complimented for what he'd done. As a matter of fact he didn't know what to feel. He was still angry with her for pushing him like that. But he was more worried about the damaged he'd caused because he was angry. Being that it was not an ordinary stunner, but one aided by the spirits of the garden Harry had no idea what kind of damage it could have caused. Why did she have to push him like that?
"Thayne, would you be kind enough to get my bag? I left it in the front hall."
Harry looked up to Thayne's solemn face as he nodded once at Regulus and headed back as quickly as he could toward the house. Harry noticed that the entire household must have come out to see what the commotion was all about because there were many faces in a crowd stationed around Dreia's feet. Some were looking at her with mild concern, while others had smiles. Others still were staring at him directly with mixture on intrigue and admiration. And two older gentlemen were ignoring the situation completely talking merrily about their day at the back of the crowd. The two younger boys were slightly off to the side staring at him wide eyed.
Harry turned back to look at Dreia. He didn't want to exchange pleasantries or try to defend his actions right now. He didn't want to concentrate on anything but making sure she woke up.
Thayne returned moments later carrying a medical satchel with an emblem of two wands crossed over a heart embossed on the front. Regulus accepted the bag with out a word and opened it. He examined several different vials of potion. Some he laid to the side apparently satisfied that they would help Dreia once she woke up. He then reached into the pocket of his royal blue robes, pulling out his wand pointing it at Dreia.
'Ennervate'Harry waited with baited breath for her to wake-up, for her eyes to open and for her body to stir. But she didn't. She continued to lay there, motionless. Her breath still ragged, matching the irregular palpitations of her heart.
"Damn," Regulus swore under his breath. "Harry you're going to have to do it. It was your spell."
Harry nodded his head once, and with out question pointed his wand and said the spell. Other than her hair blowing around a bit, her robes ruffling, she didn't wake.
"What do we do now?"
"You'll just have to call the to the garden again." Winston stated wisely. "They helped you do it, they can help you revive her."
"But how? She had to rile every last nerve to get me to do it the first time!"
"You have to wake her up Harry. You have to. We believe it you" Regulus said quietly, stroking stay hairs off Dreia's face.
"But?"
"Think about how you did it when you were... Er... angry," said a tall, dark haired older disheveled gentleman from the back of the crowd. He'd been one of the ones talking about his day at the office. "How did you connect with them to produce the stunner?
Harry lowered his head as he thought about it. He didn't want them to see the shame cross his face as he remembered how angry he'd felt. How angry he still felt. But even in through all his rage he remembered the tickle in the back of his mind.
"There was... something in the back of my head. A little string? Or something?" he said uncertainly. Even after all he been through and seen this whole situation was still odd. "Anyway I grabbed hold of it and... asked the spirit to help me find her."
"GOOD SHOW!" Winston's voice boomed, startling most everyone. He clapped Harry on the back again, almost hard enough to push him over. "Preciously! Preciously! That's the quickest I've seen someone pick that up," he exclaimed to the dark haired man in the back. "Smart lad you are Harry. Smart lad!"
"Can we get on with this Winston? The longer she's out the harder it's going to be to heal her." Regulus pointed out with a sharp look.
"Quite right, quite right," Winston nodded affirmatively; still beaming from ear to ear his large incisors making his bear like appearance almost frightening. "Harry close your eyes and concentrate on finding it again, call them."
Harry blew out a long silent breath of air and did as he was asked. For a few minutes he searched every corner of his brain, every facet, but in the end found nothing.
Frustrated, he searched again. This time he was desperate, desperate to find the small little flutter of sting to connect him with the plants and wake her up. 'Come On! I need your help. I need you to help me wake Dreia, she won't wake!' he thought, irritated. It was there before why not now?
But it was. As soon as Harry had called out to them, as soon as he'd reached for them, they were there. His mind seized the sting and held tight, begging the rest to join so he could work his magic.
The sprits of the garden responded just as they had before. Several more stings intertwined with the first creating a long thick vine that Harry firmly attached himself to.
He opened his eyes looking through the same hues of green and brown. He grasped his wand with certainty pointing his wand toward her.
'Ennervate'
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A/N I own nothing, JK's the Goddess with the copyrights. Please Review!
Brigade701: Remember that they are in separate beds. She just has to be close to him to keep the spell going. Thanks for reviewing!
Lord Sauron the Deciever: I'm so glad you like it. The Celtic Arts will be a big theme in this story. I'm honestly a little surprised there are not more like it. Ever read Mists of Avalon or any of the prequels? wink.
To everyone: I am sorry this update took so long. I've been working on getting rid of some plot issues and having someone beta the story. I've noticed some grammatical mistakes that I am slowly but surely taking care of. I hope you enjoy this chapter!