Embracing His True Self
Chapter 42
As soon as it was undoubtfully confirmed that there was absolutely nobody in or around the grounds of the Longbottom estate Harry made his decision to go to Neville's aid. Harry blinked at the sight of the Dark Mark hovering over the property high in the sky. Had some of the Death Eaters gone out on their own and caused havoc? Merlin help him, if he hadn't just seen the Lestranges they would have been his primary suspects. Even Bellatrix did not do this, she was spending a lot of time in Malfoy Manor. Avoiding him whenever possible, she was still plotting something though, Harry wasn't naïve enough to think the likes of Bellatrix could be easily cowed.
"Go and inform Voldemort I require his presence," Harry informed Dobby, "Immediately," he added sternly, before casting spells of his own to ensure that nobody was hidden in the manor before he began to stalk up the beautiful estate, for a lone older woman and little boy, the estate looked magnificent, very well kept. The sound of animals could be heard in all directions, chickens, roosters, horses, the galloping of creatures and wings, it was a very busy estate.
Thankfully all these old estates seem to be made the same way, like old manor houses in Britain. Upon entering he found the House-elves living quarters to the front of the property on his right, to the left a large business room, lavatory, store room, all of which were empty of any occupants. Swiftly making his way out and down the corridor, he found the dining room, and by Merlin it was huge, filled with portraits of probably all previous Longbottoms.
"Down to the end of the property!" called a frantic portrait, her eyes wide and tearful.
Harry nodded grimly before running past an ante hall, vestibule, a room filled with plants and such. No surprise, Neville's love of Herbology knew no bounds whatsoever. Everyone knew just how good he was at the subject. At the end of the property, the first room he checked into he gaped in amazement. This was like a massive Billiard's room, with pool tables, a table housed a large chess set, exploding snap, Pygmy Puff Pelmanism, Wizard Skittles, magical symbols game, Snitch Snatcher, Runes Riddles, Wizard checkers, even books with Spot the Snargluff.
Shaking off his amazement, he wrenched open the door to the last room, the drawing room. he didn't need to hunt far to find Augusta Longbottom was crumbled on the floor beside the doorway, he'd just narrowly avoided hitting her. The room was a mess, dozens of stained walls where spells had violently hit the walls, the chairs and portraits had been smashed to smithereens revealing just how nasty the duel had gotten. Her notoriously remembered hat was lying a few feet from the scuffle, the large dead bird's beady eyes on him. Harry pursed his lips, refraining from ginning as he remembered what happened that day in Defence Against the Dark Arts and the Boggart turning into Severus.
"Any signs of who really cast it?" Harry asked, sensing the near invisible footsteps at his back. He could sense Voldemort's presence, he wasn't afraid, he had no reason to be. It was only logical that Voldemort would never let him die due to how important he was as his Horcrux.
"No," Voldemort said his tone clipped and furious. Nearly everyone knew the damn incantation to that spell much to his consternation. After his defeat there had been many sightings of it scaring the population until the perpetrator was caught and sentenced to seven years in Azkaban. Despite the protests that he was only joking around, he hadn't hurt anyone. He certainly hadn't done it again, seven years in Azkaban would have taught him that at least.
"She's still alive, I can't find Neville, Elf!" Harry called sternly, she appeared indicating she was watching over the property carefully, "Where is Neville?" he didn't know where the hell to start, or who to go to. This place wasn't safe, obviously, they'd need to put it under the Fidelius Charm to protect them. He very much doubted Dumbledore had done this…not if he needed Neville…and if it wasn't Death Eaters…he was at a loss.
"Follow me," The House-elf said immediately, still wringing her hands nervously, she was terrified that she and the others would lose their good and kind Masters.
Neville was in the one place he hadn't thought to look, the room he was using to grow his plants. Even the Mimbulus Mimbletonia that Neville spoke about last year, how he had bred it and created something of his own, he honestly couldn't pronounce the words he'd written. Seeing him lying there, flat on his back, chest unmoving had Harry lurching towards him, pressing his fingers against his neck. The relief that flowed through him almost had him collapsing on top of Neville.
"Grant will see to both of them," Voldemort stated curtly as he made his sudden appearance, honestly, he would have preferred that they died. It would be two less opponents he'd have to endure trying to win this war. Yet, he held onto hope that they would become neutral at the very least, especially if this was an attack by their own side. His Death Eaters wouldn't do something so stupid, as to attack anyone and leave them alive. Most of them were 'dead' in the eyes of the magical world and that was the way he hoped to keep it. It allowed them to move more freely and do the things he needed done without everyone being on the defensive and expecting an attack.
"This attack…whoever perpetrated it is a complete novice!" Harry declared, "Why leave someone…or rather two someone's alive and potentially have you caught? They panicked after the initial fight and ran with their tail between their legs." He wouldn't leave someone alive unless he was one hundred percent sure they were in a secure environment where he could control things, like the dungeons.
"Either that or they feared being interrupted, overthought a noise….or had to be elsewhere, and used that as their alibi." Voldemort pointed out, many wizards and witches had very important jobs in the magical world, even Dumbledore as much as it turned his stomach to admit. Ones they could not be late to, under any circumstances. Like wizengamot meetings, court hearings, if anyone was late it disrupted everything, hypothetically putting back a trial months at a time.
Harry stood up, flicking his wand at Neville, placing the unconscious bloody heap upon the conjured stretcher. "Where's Grant setting up?" Harry asked, knowing they wouldn't be allowed anywhere near Voldemort's property, not even if they were begging on their knees for him to help them. Grant he had learned, was one of the best Healers St. Mungo's had to offer. Not only that but he was one of the rare genuine good guys who helped everyone regardless of station. Even at the weekends he'd work in a place he'd opened a 'clinic' but the reality was it was more of a one room building that he used as a small hospital. For those who had absolutely no money and no means of getting the medical help they needed. Anyone that heard about Grant would never assume he was a Death Eater. It wasn't a front he put on to avoid suspicion either, Grant was truly goodhearted, would help anyone in a heartbeat. Made him feel a little guilty about how he'd treated the wizard to begin with, but it was who he was, and Grant had slowly gotten to know him enough not to be offended and knew when he was joking and being sarcastic.
"In the dining room!" came an amplified voice, indicating that Grant had been listening to their conversation. Not that it would take much, where they were in the room Neville was using as some sort of plant room was only across from the dining room. Only the ante hall was between them.
"Good, not far then," Harry murmured moving swiftly, keeping an eye out so he didn't smash the stretcher into the doorway, as he moved out. A quick jaunt towards the dining room he paused at the sight, two massive metal storage cupboards stood in the middle of the room along with two hospital beds, Grant was still taking items out of his trunk, as he moved expertly finding them effortlessly. Evidently he knew exactly where everything was and was able to do so in a hurry.
"What happened?" Grant asked Harry, taking over the stretcher and getting Neville into the second bed, which had been unoccupied until then. Augusta lay just as still and quiet as before, hell she didn't even seem to be breathing, Neville either. He knew they were, barely, which couldn't be a good sign. "Put this on the clipboard over there, and add her name," he demanded of Harry, as he began to run a deep penetrative diagnosis on Neville.
"I don't know what happened, we were just about to sit down to lunch when a House-elf popped in, silently actually, scared the crap out of me when it stated talking." Harry revealed, glancing at Grant who was reading the results, pale face and grim. He wrote the Dowager Longbottom's name, thankfully he knew her first name. Neville usually just called her Gran after all. "All it said was that both were injured and Neville told the Elf to come to him if anything happened."
"He suspected something like this may happen?" Grant asked, concerned, as he moved over to the cabinets and opened them. Taking the most important potions that was required to keep them in the land of the living, out and began by pouring them in Augusta's mouth, she was by far the worst off. For an older witch, she was strong, very strong, he'd seen less injured witches succumbing in less time.
"He must have done," Harry stated, grabbing the second diagnosis and writing Neville's name down before attaching it to a clipboard and placing it absently at the bottom of the bed. Staying out Grants way as he swiftly moved between both of them.
"Clean them up and change them," Grant added, as he began to insert a needle into their veins to ensure they didn't become dehydrated. Considering how badly they were off, Grant didn't see them wakening up for at least four or five days, judging by their own strength of character. Some people did surprise him now and again, although it had been a year since he'd been surprised and that was by the boy next to him.
"I didn't think wizards used those," Harry muttered, still slightly stunned by their appearance.
"Only when required," Grant explained not even glancing at Harry to see if he was doing as Grant had demanded. Nodding in satisfaction, as the blood and clothes were banished, leaving behind only one layer of clothing which was quickly turned into nightwear. It would be extremely inappropriate for either of them to glimpse a woman in their underwear. No they usually had a witch help or do it for any unconscious witch in need.
"She has an injury that's still bleeding quite harshly, Grant, it's her side," Harry commented, as the white bed clothes were immediately drenched blood red.
"Give me a minute," Grant said, very cool and calm, even under pressure. Not surprising, he was a healer, he was used to dealing with stress at his job. Although he wasn't usually responsible for two people, solely responsible for them. He was grateful at least that Harry was here to make this easier on him. he wasn't sure how long he would be, no doubt the his Lord would require his attention soon enough. He knew good and well what their Lord was up to, securing the premises so nothing and nobody could get here.
"I won't be needing those," Grant said as he stepped forward to see the injury himself.
"Then why do you have them?" Harry grumbled under his breath, more used to patching himself up with Muggle stuff, so it was more familiar to him.
"Sometimes wounds refuse to heal, such as some animal bites, or spells that purposely prevent healing until the counter spell is uttered." Grant educated him, as his wand waved in an intrigue pattern, healing the wound easily. Able to non-verbally begin the healing progress of the injury while talking. "Which requires bandaging to try and prevent any infections, and also try and stop the flow being quite so harsh. Nine times out of ten, simply knowing the right spell prevents any need for bandages." He educated Harry, aware that he didn't know much about the magical healing side of things.
"Harry I require your immediate presence at the entrance hall at once," the Dark Lord's voice echoed in every crevice of the house.
Grant almost stumbled, the 'require' not 'demand' catching him very much off-guard. He didn't let that deter him from his goal, as he continued to fix the worst of the injuries to both the Longbottoms. Frequently changing patients each time, in order of the severity of the wounds/injuries. Not having to look at the board at the bottom of their temporary beds. He was very good at memorising information, it came in handy during times like these.
"Excuse me," Harry said, as he exited the room.
Grant couldn't help but grin as he remembered the Pure-blood lessons Harry had undergone before returning to Hogwarts for his fifth year. He'd only seen the one lesson, but it had been amusing. It was near the beginning and Harry had looked set to kill someone. The Dark Lord hadn't been far off the mark either. Harry had to be the most stubborn wizard – bar the Dark Lord – he'd ever met.
Shaking off his thoughts, he poured potions down his patients throats, removed hexes and curses at an alarming rate, he felt magic coursing through the manor around ten minutes after Harry left.
It imbedded itself in the walls, and it most certainly wasn't the Dark Lord's magic, interesting, was Harry Potter successfully being taught to cast the Fidelius Charm on his first go? It was truthfully the only spell that would keep everyone safe until Augusta actually woke up and strengthened the wards, but the reality was, even then it was unsafe.
Even the Fidelius charm wasn't one hundred percent safe, as the Potter's had found out just before their demise.
Pouring the last potion that he could give Augusta Longbottom down her throat, he sighed and stretched out, craning his head back and forth and rolling his shoulders. Breathing out evenly, he nodded to himself. glancing up at the vital stats above their beds, showing everything, including their breathing.
Sighing out, "It's going to be a long night," he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes, he'd been on the nightshift at St. Mungo's last night, but at least he'd managed to get a few hours sleep before he had been summoned to Longbottom manor. He really needed to find himself an apprentice, someone who was interested in healing, someone from the Dark Lord's forces, because this war was just beginning, he knew he'd need all the help he could get. He made a mental note to speak to the Dark Lord about his idea…when he was in a very, very, very good mood.
"What was that?" Harry asked, causing Grant to stand up straight at attention before relaxing as the sound penetrated his mind. It was not the Dark Lord.
"I don't suppose you'd like to apprentice yourself to be a healer?" Grant mused as he sat down, creating two more, before as if reading his mind a House-Elf – the same one – came through with two trays, one filled with water and five cups, and another with refreshments for them.
"What's your name?" Harry asked, staring at the House-Elf, there was no saying whether they were male of female. There was nothing that gave it away, at least not unless they were starkers. Which they weren't – thankfully – but considering they could mate he'd say they had to have some sort of sex organs.
"I is being called Rose, Lord Potter-Black," Rose said softly, delicately, as if she feared angering him. Which to be fair she probably did, all House-Elves were like that.
"Thank you, Rose, under no circumstances are you to leave the manor or it's grounds, until your Master's wake up, you take your orders from those in this room. Do you understand?" Harry commanded, but his voice wasn't harsh and angry, just very serious. The House-Elf could get around his orders, she did not belong to him, but he hoped she would do as he asked. He couldn't risk word getting back to Hogwarts or worse Dumbledore that he'd been seen with Voldemort. Although to be frank…he wasn't sure the House-Elf's knew that Voldemort was in fact Voldemort.
"I is be listening to Lord Potter-Black," Rose promised, bowing low showing her subservience to the wizard before her. "I is not to leave the manor or grounds." He echoed the words, intending on listening to them. Harry Potter-Black had saved her Masters so she would do as he bid until her true Masters woke up.
"Inform the others of their orders, you will be helping Grant take care of Neville and Augusta until they are well." Harry informed her, "You will all be taking shifts, so make a schedule and ensure some of you rest this afternoon."
"Rose will do as commanded," she said in awe, bowing once more before leaving with an almost silent pop.
"Why haven't you bothered with an apprentice before now?" Harry asked Grant absently, leaning back in the quite comfortable armchair as he observed the wizard. He was currently making himself a mug of strong black coffee.
"Time," Grant mused, stirring the brew which was definitely not at a temperature he could drink it without ending up scalded. "My work schedule makes it impossible really, even more so now."
"Daphne Greengrass has quite often commented on her desire to be a healer," Harry said thoughtfully, "With her still attending Hogwarts, she would be perfect…unless her family is neutral?"
"No, they're firmly a believer of the Dark Lord's causes," Grant replied immediately, giving in and pouring some milk into the cup, his desire to drink outweighing the fact he usually drank it dark. Using magic to make it cooler leaves a odd taste to it which he didn't like.
"But not Death Eaters themselves, right?" Harry pointed out, "I've never heard the name mentioned, then again I'm only really familiar with those in the inner circle." Which was the truth, they wore dark robes and masks, he wasn't familiar enough with any of the dark fraction to point them out on appearance alone. Hell, the only ones he'd be able to tell by appearance alone was definitely Lucius Malfoy. Bellatrix rarely wore her Death Eater garb so her as well, the Lestranges did, to an extent. He was only ever around the inner circle, even if only briefly, they were the ones who knew he was on Voldemort's side.
"Bowen Greengrass is indeed one of my own," Voldemort stated firmly, as he made his entrance. Barely glancing towards the two unconscious on the beds, he honestly didn't care much about them. He wasn't sure why the hell he was helping either, they'd sooner kill him than help him.
Yet he knew why, he did not want to spill magical blood, not unless he absolutely had to. So until he knew exactly what happened to the Longbottoms and they opposed him he would refrain from passing judgement. He wandered in as if he owed the place and took his seat, refusing anything to eat or drink on the plate. He did not trust these House-Elves, and thus he wouldn't consume anything, even after checking it for any spells or potions attached, they could be hidden after all. He should know, he'd successfully managed that before he left Hogwarts.
"How are they, anyway?" Harry asked Grant, realizing he probably should have asked ages ago, but he'd been side-tracked by Grant speaking.
Voldemort despite his disinterest listened to Grant speak.
"It's going to be touch and go…for at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours," Grant revealed, his face blank, as it always was when handing over diagnosis' to loved ones or his Lord for that matter.
"Even with magic?!" Harry asked, gaping at the wizard.
"Even with magic, it depends entirely on how long the spells have been on and whether I managed to de-hex them in time." Grant explained, "Then there's the blood that's been lost, easily restored I'll admit, but hopefully in time."
"So it was a significant amount then?" Harry asked jaw slightly unhinged, "There didn't seem to be a whole lot,"
"If you go back you'll probably find that there is indeed a lot of blood amassed from both of them," Grant informed him without a single doubt on his face.
Harry nodded, taking Grants word for it, after all he was the expert healer. He would know just how much they had lost.
"Speak to Greengrass, if she's serious about being a Healer, getting some apprenticeship time under her belt during her summer holidays…will only aid in her desires to become a Healer. Once she leaves she can become apprenticed to you full time if it's something she still wants to do." Harry suggested to Grant, teenagers changed their minds regarding what they wanted to do. Like Hermione, she didn't have the same goals she'd had when she was eleven. Ron's had always been the same, Prefect, Quidditch player, Quidditch captain, Auror just as it had been in the mirror of Erised. He was lucky he was able to have what the mirror showed him. Harry's inner desires at eleven had been his own parents, he did ponder on what would meet his gaze this time, but brushed it off. It was a dangerous assumption to begin, that mirror had ensnared others after all. Dumbledore had risked his sanity/life just to see what he desired.
"Once I've got free time on my hands after this," Grant decided, he unlike many of the Death Eaters wasn't prejudice against the 'weaker' sex as they often though witches were. The magical world had came on leaps and bounds since witches were able to do things. The Floo network had been created by a witch. Honestly, there were too many to name, St. Mungo's had been co-founded by a witch, admittedly not many knew that outside the healer community.
Harry nodded his head curtly, agreeing with him.
"I assume you're going to remain here tonight?" Voldemort uttered lazily, already bored out of his mind, and wanted nothing more than to return to his own home.
"I am," Harry confirmed, not surprised Voldemort knew him well. If Neville was to die…then he should have at least someone beside him so he didn't pass over this world alone. Neville hadn't had too many friends in his life, and Harry refused to abandon him in his time of need. Plus, he wanted to be the first to know what the hell had happened, and who had hurt him.
Even if it was the last thing Neville was able to tell him, he'd get his revenge.
"I thought as much, return to the Manor when you have news," he instructed the young wizard.
"I will." Harry confirmed, while Grant stood and bowed his head to his Lord in respect.
It took three days for the Longbottom's to slip out of 'Critical care' and six more days before Neville opened his eyes for the first time since Harry had came to his aid nine days ago. Now the eighteenth of July, the summer holidays was now half over with.
When Harry heard what happened, he ensured Neville was given a Dreamless Sleep draught before returning to Slytherin Manor. His magic furiously ripping free, as his anger got the better of him.
Voldemort just observed him calmly, unafraid of his magical displays. "I assume you now know who perpetrated the attack?" assuming it was one of his own due to the fact he had returned here with such anger in his system.
"Pensive? You might as well see it," Harry suggested blankly, eyes twitching the only give away other than the intense look in his eyes.
"He gave you the memory?" Voldemort asked, eyes flashing in genuine surprise.
Harry nodded curtly, it was a sign of true loyalty to give your memories up in such a way. To ask was a grievous insult to wizards. Perhaps there was more Gryffindor than Hufflepuff to Neville Longbottom after all.
"Very well," Voldemort replied, with that both of them made their way to Voldemort's office, ready to see the attack for himself. If this was an elaborate scheme by his Death Eaters they would regret it. If it was a scheme to reveal the Death Eaters then they'd regret it too, since he would know his own people, right down to their wand movements and spell casting.
Voldemort was in for a surprise when he saw what occurred for himself.
I know I know another chapter of Embracing His True Self! It's not fair on my other stories but the muses for this story are overwhelming right now, so I do like to write it while it's this strong! So, is Dumbledore responsible for the attack? Or has Bellatrix cleverly tried to orchestrate something in order to get rid of Neville? I quite honestly am not sure which one to make it! Dumbledore or the Death Eaters...it would go well either way! BUT If I do want Neville to become Neutral or even Dark...we can't have it being the Death Eaters in general can we? Will Neville's loyalty to Harry withstand his allegiance to Voldemort? Read and Review please!