Chapter Fifty-Four: The breaking of the curse
The curse is broken. Many assumptions are shattered.
(i) The characters and world of Harry Potter are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.
(ii) Thank you to all the readers who have stayed with me through the writing of this tale. Your patience has been truly amazing and your continuing reviews are so appreciated. I promise I will finish this story. It will not be abandoned.
(iii) Happy Chinese New Year. I hope the year of the Fire Monkey is a great one for you.
(iv) And finally, a big, big thank you to the fantastic disillusionist9 who has taken on the massive task of being my beta and go-to girl. You're an angel and I'm so pleased to have your help. All mistakes are my own.
Severus watched over his Hermione and kept feeding her his love and protection through their soul bond. He could no longer feel her pain, and although this development worried him on one level, he could now feel her soul slowly vibrating and shining inside of him. It was something to get used to – to know his beloved had found refuge from the curse inflicted pain and hurt within his tortured soul. Ginevra Weasley's attack on Hermione had only made their bond stronger. This new element to their bond was so much more than what books spoke of. It was so much more than what he'd felt when he'd found her outside the Gryffindor Common-Room entrance and had experienced some of her pain through their binding. If only Riddle had understood the magics he was playing with as he tried to carve out spells for immortality.
When his tempus charm softly chimed half past nine, Severus kissed Hermione's lips gently and got out of bed. He could feel her soul ache at their parting. He realized it was their skin on skin contact which had allowed her soul to create a bridge to his own. Amazed once more at how complex soul magic was, he touched her cheek again before finishing his toilette.
Dressed in his armour of black wool and buttons, he began ensuring Hermione was washed and safely clad in the flannel Poppy had provided the night before. Tansy arrived then, and together they completed her ablution. That the elf had come through all of his wards wasn't as much of a surprise as it once would have been. Dobby's arrival at Malfoy Manor to rescue the trio had forced Severus to research house-elf magic more fully once he'd taken possession of his own house-elves at Lestrange Manor.
When Severus returned to the Infirmary proper with Hermione's prone form it was to find everyone from the night before already gathered in the now adjoining ante-chamber. Breakfast was mostly concluded as Bill worked to finalise the list of thirteen who would be required to be a part of the curse-breaking.
Severus accepted the mug of black coffee Minerva handed him, even as Poppy began magically feeding Hermione nutritive solutions. Seeing Hermione being given the liquids, nourishment and calories she needed, he joined in the list making.
As Severus was dished out some melon by Minerva and some toast by Narcissa, Bill pushed back his plate and looked around the gathered parties. Clearly, the curse-breaker explained that they needed people who were willing to give their soul's energy to healing Hermione. "It is not an easy thing to do," said Bill seriously. "If the love you feel isn't real, it will not work."
"Is it dangerous to the casters?" asked Molly quietly. She was a subdued woman this morning. She'd spent what had remained of the early morning with Ginny in a magically secure room a few doors away from the Infirmary, the castle having once again adjusted to provide the needed accommodation. Kingsley had allowed mother and daughter to be together, once Molly's wand was taken away. Their discussion, one Arthur observed from outside the wards, forced Molly to rethink many of the things she'd believed with such strong zeal.
Bill looked at his mother, taking in her exhaustion and pallor. He could not lie, even if it was to give her some kind of comfort. "It is dangerous. All those who agree to be castors are offering up a fragment of their soul to heal Hermione. It is seen as Light Magic, but it is not without cost. Some sacrifice may be required, we can't work out what."
Molly nodded. Her daughter had cast something truly horrific. Of course to break such a curse would require a price. She knew in her heart she didn't have that kind of love for Hermione. As Molly mused about the dangers and the costs, the three Malfoys had communicated and understood each other's hearts with only their shared glances.
Lucius, his hand holding Narcissa's slim fingers, spoke for them all. "Draco, Narcissa and I would all like to be on your list of thirteen. I speak for my family when I say we love Hermione as our own. We are willing to pay whatever price is required of us, even if it costs us a part of our soul."
Molly couldn't stop her shocked gasp from emerging. However many times she'd been told of the Malfoys earnestness, she'd not expected this. She knew she was being blind, prejudiced, but she'd never truly believed their professed love for Hermione as one of their own. In Molly's eyes Hermione was still only a Muggleborn, one who was too alien to fully belong. She knew despite the years she'd known Hermione as a child, seen her grow and mature, that she was unable to genuinely feel deep, abiding love for the young woman.
Astoria has been sitting quietly, tucked against Draco's side. "And me too," she said, in a soft, sincere tone. "I love Hermione as my friend and my sister-in-law-to-be. For what Hermione means to my future husband, I definitely would like to be included."
"It is not going to be easy, or without pain," said Bill again.
"It doesn't matter," said Astoria, reaching out across the width of the oak table to take Luna's hand. The blonde Ravenclaw looked exhausted. Her eyes were red-rimmed, testament to her tears. "Luna and I both feel the same, though she's not saying anything right now. We love Hermione. This last year had brought us together, given us a kind of bond that's all about a shared understanding and sisterhood."
Luna nodded. "I was waiting to see who else would offer. But yes. I'm with 'Tory here. We have so much love for Hermione. We are her sisters of the heart."
Bill nodded in acceptance. "She's lucky to have you," he said soberly.
Filius listened to the discussion with interest. "I don't even need to ask if young Severus will be one, giving us six names already. And if I could nominate myself as the seventh, I would be honoured. Since the first moment she stepped into my class-room she has been one of my all time favourite students. I'm sure my magical strength will help in the casting."
Even as Bill was jotting down the names to work on the last pieces of Arithmancy, Percy cleared his throat. "I volunteer," said the red-head diffidently. "From Hermione's first-year, we've had a kind of friendship, one which only grew and strengthened when I was mocked and ridiculed and eventually estranged from my family. She has stayed true to me as my dear friend. I had hoped she would be my sister, one I could share books and reading with, but I also knew deep down she was too good for Ron. I've been thinking… I'm Ginny's blood. If I acknowledge Hermione as a sister, and I am willing to take a blood bond to cement this, won't it strengthen our chances of breaking the curse even more?"
Bill was nodding furiously, even as he passed the parchment over to Filius who took over the Arithmancy calculations. Lucius moved over a few paces and sat down besides the diminutive Professor to observe and assist as needed.
While the Charms experts worked, a silence followed. They'd gotten some names but were still short of their desired thirteen.
Minerva bit her lip. She was still unsure about offering herself up for the plan. Yes she was fond of Hermione, but was it love? A part of her had died when the love of her life had died all those years ago. Since then, though she saw her students as her children, and was fond of them in a kind of distant and doting-aunt kind of way, she hadn't allowed herself to love them, not fully. And this, this required love; genuine, real love.
The sudden silence was broken by Harry. "Well, I love Hermione. She's my sister. If Percy can make an official blood bond can't I, too? I mean, if it's possible and it won't complicate things? She's been so much more to me than just my friend, she's been my strength. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Hermione."
Ron was nodding his head at Harry's words. As soon as his dark-haired friend finished, Ron said, "Yeah, me too." He met Bill's eyes and grinned with a shrug. "I don't know how me offering to be a part of this works. My feelings are so confused because of this great bloody Darkness. But I love her. Sometimes it gets mixed up in my head because I think she's pretty and all that too, but I feel what Harry feels. There's a part of me that will always love Hermione. Always. No matter that I'm with Lavender or am starting to seriously think I'm interested in Susan. Hermione's precious. She will always own a part of my soul."
Molly was aghast. Two of her sons. Willing to offer their souls for Hermione. But she could see the pride in Arthur's eyes. He beamed despite the fatigue and tension of the night they'd passed. He reached out and touched Percy on the arm then nodded at Ron who was seated too far away for physical contact. He wanted to hug his boys. This was what it was all about. He was almost tempted to offer himself. He loved Hermione, if for nothing else than she'd stuck by Percy and given Ron a chance to grow up and come into the Light. But before he could say anything, there was a soft pop.
Everyone turned around to see Tansy standing there, wringing her hands. She had not been called. Tansy was so confused. For the first time she resented her service. Yes, she was an elf with a Mistress and Master. But they hadn't called for her. And yet, her Mistress lay still, in need of her. She couldn't bear it. "Is I as an elf be permitted?" asked Tansy, her eyes big and pleading. "I is loving Mistress Hermione. Is my bond acceptable?"
Filius frowned. "It would complicate the magics needed," said the Charms Professor, "especially because you do not need a wand to cast the charms." But Filius could see the devotion of the elf to her mistress was absolute.
Tansy's tears of pain, disappointment and frustration rolled down her cheeks. "Mistress would not deny Tansy," said the elf ferociously.
Bill laughed. "And that's where Arithmancy and Charms research would fail."
At the confused look of his mother, Bill smiled gently. He could feel more than hear Fluer's quiet huff of impatience. Doing his best to calm his tired Veela, he stroked his wife's hand. "What we are trying to do is soul magic. If Tansy says Hermione would not deny her this request, and if what I know of Hermione is accurate, then Tansy is spot on. Tansy should be one of the thirteen. Soul magic has so many factors we can't account for. Tansy's belief that Hermione would see Tansy as an equal with witches and wizards, despite her not needing a wand to cast, makes her a positive addition."
Lucius nodded and sighed, rubbing his nose in a most unexpected and irregular gesture of defeat. "Hermione's been at me since the day she joined our family to treat elves with kindness. Love. I've tried to be polite when she is there but to see them as equal is still beyond me. And yet... William is right. It is something Hermione feels. It is true to her. We are here to fight for her soul and to save her. Because Hermione believes Tansy's magic is equal to my own, then, it is. She is suitable to be included in the thirteen."
Molly could only stare, her mouth agape at the pronouncement of the blond patrician. Even she could not quite accept the elves as equal; her prejudices saw them as servants to be treated kindly, but only that. Not equals. She delighted in bossing and ordering Kreacher around. To accept Kreacher as her magical equal was totally exceptional for the Weasley matriarch.
For the patriarch of the Malfoys to admit to such a thing was revolutionary.
The silence was almost oppressive now. Eleven down, two to go.
Severus left them to their devices and discussions, and joined Poppy beside Hermione's bed. He could feel his beloved's soul calling to his. Eleven was a good enough number. If they didn't get thirteen, they could work with eleven. And he could see Arthur's desire to offer. If need be, Arthur and Minerva might be brought in. So he ignored the rest, and reached with his soul to his treasure. We are nearly there, he said to her through their bond. We've nearly reached the point where we can free you. Hang on my love. I am coming. We are coming for you.
"Would a pureblood Veela mess up your neat calculations further?" asked the softly accented voice of Claudia. She had waited, quiet, knowing she had only known Hermione for a short period of time. And yet, she knew how much Hermione meant to both Severus and Harry. How could she not offer her soul to the first family who had valued her, treated her as a beloved addition to their circle?
Her reward for her question was Harry's quick and bright grin. It always amazed Claudia how a simple statement or action by her could please the family and friends she's found since coming to Britain. Harry's sincere pleasure in her offering herself forward made her cheeks redden in bashfulness. She knew she was an anomaly amongst so many powerful witches and wizards who had more than proved themselves in battle, but, she was also the only real blood kin of Severus' present. She was duty and honour bound and just glad she could do this for someone she'd come to esteem from their first meeting.
"I know I'm new to your circle," Claudia said in her cultured voice.
Bill motioned her on as she stopped and blushed again as everyone watched her. Swallowing, she said, "Hermione is someone I love for being one of the first of my family to have accepted me without question. She loved me just because I was me. Just because I am and want to be claimed as Severus' kin."
"That's our Hermione," said Arthur proudly. "And if no one else is going to jump in right now, could I be the last of the thirteen?"
Filius smiled. "I'm sure that would be acceptable."
Claudia blushed again. "I don't mean any disrespect. But would none of Hermione's actual flesh and blood want to volunteer? I know Draco said they were beastly to her, but surely, if someone explained things, her mother or father would consent. Not that my parents would if I were in Hermione's place. But still. If we could get one of them, wouldn't that strength the magic? I know they are Muggle, but love magic, soul magic is instinctive, and wouldn't really need actual magical casting strength. We could provide this, surely?"
As Claudia finished her speech, everyone turned to look at Severus. He stroked Hermione's hand one last time and joined them. "Possibly her father," said the Dark wizard contemplatively. "If one of them is to offer, I'd say her father Roger Granger might possibly come."
Lucius' eyes were dark and dangerous as he looked at the still form of his daughter. "I'll go now. I'm sure if I talk to the man that he can be made to consider the idea. In any case, the least we can do is tell them. Then, if he isn't willing, I think Arthur as Ginny's father, along with Percy and Ron, will make this a strong casting whatever happens with the Muggle."
Minerva wanted to say something. To imagine a Malfoy, a former Death Eater going to a Muggle for help was astonishing. But it was Lucius who kissed his wife and took the hair pin she offered with a dangerous smile to transfigure into an illegal port-key. He smirked at the silent acting Minister for Magic at this blatant breaking of the rules which not only demonstrated his skill, but also his power in knowing how to get it to work within the confines of Hogwarts. Then with a nod to those present, vanished from their midst.
Severus couldn't stop the smirk gracing his face as he returned to sit down next to Hermione. It was so typical of Lucius to break everyone's expectations of what they thought his responses to situations would be so causally and smoothly. Even as he kissed Hermione's fingers and ran his hand up and down her arm, he could see Molly still looking blankly at the wall, trying to understand what she was witnessing.
Harry paced up and down. Every now and then the Saviour of the Wizarding World would stop before Hermione to look intently at her. Finally, as though coming to some kind of decision, he went back to Bill. "How do we do a formal blood bonding?" he asked. "To be her brother in blood, I mean?"
While the Curse Breaker and Narcissa Malfoy sat with Harry, Ron and Percy to explain the process of binding their blood to Hermione's, and therefore the Malfoys', the others quietly dispersed once more.
Arthur had hovered uncertain, but seeing Molly return to Ginny's side forced his hand and he accompanied his wife to spend some time with their youngest.
Ginny was now worn out, and eventually, as the minutes ticked by, her parents got her to drink some Dreamless Sleep potion and rest in the arms of Morpheus.
Minerva and Poppy had observed and quietly spoken of the changes taking place in the Weasleys as a family. It was moving to watch Arthur especially, he was torn between comforting his hurting wife and daughter and giving strength to his two sons who were about to embark on yet another challenging task.
Lucius had known where to find Hermione's parents since the moment he had seriously begun to think of adopting her formally. Being the Dark Charms expert he was, he'd used some of Hermione's hair, surreptitiously taken from her hair brush to create a tracking spell. In his Darkest moments he dreamed of murdering the two heartless Muggles in their sanctimonious, supposedly religious beds. He'd even researched the correct method of crucifixion as an appropriate way of torturous murder. He knew he had issues. All who walked in the path of the Old Magics did. Severus he knew had these same impulses. But the strength of a wizard was in fighting the impulses. And so instead he planned, he plotted and allowed the beast inside of him to enjoy knowing that when the time, if ever it came, he could pay his beloved daughter's parents back for their treatment of her.
The port-key was set to take him within five feet of their physical forms, which mean he appeared right into their sitting room with a loud, exaggerated crack of magic. Lucius enjoyed the shock and fear he saw on the two Muggles' faces. Giving full reign to his emotions, Lucius let himself glow like an angel of their Lord, his hair a blond halo around his face as his magic flared in heightened frenzy. His silver grey robes, his height, it all allowed him to create the awe of a wizard in the full prime of his powers. Lucius had a flare for the dramatic, and now he used his talents to have the Muggles cowering at his feet.
The woman had wet herself in fear and was praying out loud. Lucius chuckled. Pitilessly. He'd not had this much fun since the first rising of the Dark Lord. The man, Hermione's father, had the steel of his daughter visible in his eyes. Despite his fear, mistrust and uncertainty, he still met Lucius' gaze unflinchingly. The tenacity in the brown eyes which so resembled Hermione's allowed Lucius some measure of control. These were not vermin to be exterminated. At least the man was a human. A thinking rational being who had created the daughter he had taken into his home and heart.
His tone nothing if not cold and aristocratic, Lucius sneered, and examined his nails as he addressed the Muggles. Lucius knew he needed the posturing to retake control of his temper. "I am Lucius Malfoy. Lord Malfoy to you. I am Hermione, your only offspring's adopted father."
He could see that the woman wanted to deny that she had a daughter, but her fear kept her praying instead. He ignored her; he would kill her one of these days.
But the man nodded. "Is Hermione well?" His voice shook with his worry. "We got the invitation to the marriage. Bonding?"
Lucius frowned, doing his best to control his swirling emotions. He slipped his hand into his robe pocket and grasped his wand tightly. "She has been cursed."
Roger Granger's faced paled even further.
The woman, Lucius would not sully himself by referring to her as Hermione's mother, said, "Cursed. Yes, she is. Cursed as a witch, bearing the mark of the Devil."
Lucius lost his temper. Stepping forward to loom over her, his voice dropped even lower, turning the small room colder. "Foolish woman, you have no concept of true religion and love! How dare you think you know what God and the Devil are? You are the Devil! You with your bigoted hatred and fear. Hermione is goodness and light itself." Lucius didn't think of the irony of him saying these things out loud or even thinking them, in truth. Instead, impatient, he sent a mildly Dark sleeping hex her way and she fell head first to the carpet.
"Do not be alarmed," said Lucius to her spouse who had rushed to her side. "She is merely sleeping. We have things to talk about and her idiocy is not helpful."
Then, growing quickly tired of the rising stench of the woman's urine, he cast a cleansing charm over her. As she was cleansed, he saw the man glance at him briefly for his courtesy. Fool! He needed the Muggle to trust in him and do what was required.
But there was no point sneering at the man. Lucius bit down on his impatience and watched Granger arrange his wife gently on the sofa before standing up. "Shall we sit in the kitchen to talk? I think I need some tea."
Roger's tea was growing cold as he listened to the obviously powerful and terrifying wizard explain the nature of the curse placed upon Hermione. Roger had only been exposed to Professor McGonagall and the Weasleys. He knew there was more to magic, but his limited exposure had led him to believe it was somehow not vital or important. What he'd seen, the fancy shops in Diagon Alley, the strangely dressed people, even the news in their newspaper had seemed more like theme park make-believe than real life. He and Ruth had had an inkling of some of the power when they'd faced the Dark Wizard who had accompanied Hermione to give them back their memories, but even that now paled to the realisation the wizard had been holding back. Roger could see he'd never truly understood the power of Magic.
Eventually, when Lucius explained how the curse could be broken by love, real love and a sacrifice from the soul, Roger's Christian beliefs were shaken. Magic and witchcraft was associated with of the Devil. Of Lucifer and the fallen angels. Roger read the Bible religiously. Even after Hermione had returned their memories, he and his wife turned to their Church, talked it over and prayed together and wondered if they should return to England. But in England…well they'd not really been church-going people. Coming to Australia had brought them to the Lord and so they'd stayed. Their dentistry profession had allowed them to work with the mission work the church did and they'd felt there'd been a purpose, a calling for their new life in this alien land.
Now, this powerful wizard, who not only bore a startling visual resemblance to how Roger pictured Lucifer, fallen angel of Light, but uncannily even had a name that sounded like that of the Lord of Darkness was telling him that magic, the magic damned and cursed in the bible could be pure, of Light, of sacrifice. It all made his head hurt. To know magic this powerful and dangerous wizard spoke of was not something to be condemned but suddenly sounded not dissimilar to the miracles his Lord Jesus Christ and the Prophets of Old had performed.
Did he love his daughter? Of course he did. He had loved her from the moment she was placed in his arms, from the first time he'd looked upon her face. But he also knew if he went he would likely not be able to return to his wife. If he went with Lord Malfoy his Ruth would see it as betrayal. And yet, weren't they the ones who had betrayed her? She had done what she had done to save them.
Roger sighed. "I love Hermione. Of course I love her. But if I come with you, it will be the end of my marriage."
Lucius looked at him in Arctic consideration. "I could make you a widower in a moment. Then you wouldn't have anything to come back to."
Roger gaped in terror at the wizard. He wasn't joking. Suddenly, Roger realised this was the type of man from whom Hermione had tried to save them. "Are you one of them?" began Roger rashly, but he realised what he was asking and didn't have the nerve to continue.
Lucius' eyes were cold. Ruthless. "Am I a Death Eater? I was. I am one of the last surviving."
Roger nodded. The honesty was somehow a chilling, if terrifying comfort. This was not the time for lies. "I'll come. Do I need anything?"
"No," said Lucius. Pushing back his wooden chair, he stood up and walked around the table. Standing beside the Muggle, he pulled out the hair pin he'd tucked into his breast pocket. With a flick of his wand he activated the port-key to return them to Hogwarts. "When this turns blue, touch it. The journey will feel uncomfortable, but it will return us to Scotland."
Roger nodded, apprehensive. When the pin turned a blazing electric blue, he moved closer to the wizard who still held out the pin and touched it with a tentative finger. Roger had expected it to feel cold, or hot or something. But he felt nothing. A second later, there was a jerk which seemed to originate behind his navel. He felt himself pulled and squeezed and then, thankfully, he blacked out.
When Lucius returned a scant forty-five minutes later pandemonium broke out. The Muggle lay in a heap on the floor.
"What did you do?" screeched Molly, rushing to the man's side.
Lucius sighed. "Nothing." Dismissing the red-head, he turned to Poppy, who was even now making her way across the Infirmary. "The port-key's magic was too much for him. I think he blacked out from the motion."
Poppy nodded, pushing Molly aside gently. "I need to get a reading."
Molly looked like he was the Dark Lord reincarnated as he stood there, with Narcissa and Draco holding onto him in relief.
Poppy smiled, accepting Theo's strong helping hand to stand up. "He's fine. He just passed out as you thought. I think we need to give him a moment; he'll come to soon enough. And the less magic we perform on him at this stage, the better."
As house-elves popped in discreetly to lay the Muggle on an Infirmary bed, Lucius inclined his head and moved with his family closer to Hermione's still form. Kissing his wife's forehead, he laid his hand on Hermione's head. "She's still in a coma?"
Severus' nodded. "I can still feel her taking refuge inside of me. She's distanced herself from the physical pain. And being shielded by my soul means she's safe from harm at the moment. But she'll have to return to her own body for the curse-breaking. That's going to be hard. She's not going to like me forcing her to leave her cocoon inside of me."
Lucius stroked Hermione's hair away from her face and frowned. "We'll have to be brutal to be kind. But she'll understand if we all persuade her."
Severus pinched his nose. "I thought about it. Would your bonds as her adopted magical parents allow you to access her core that way?"
"We won't know until we try," said Narcissa. "But she's come to trust us and so she'll trust our magic if we all focus our love and emotions through our various bondings and urge her to leave the sanctuary of your soul."
The three stood for a moment longer, but moved away as Roger began to stir.
"Were there any problems?" asked Kingsley coming forward to inspect the Muggle. He'd been a silent witness to all of the events from last night onwards. It was on his authority as both acting Minister of Magic and Head of the Order that Ginny was restrained but not taken into direct Auror custody. It was a position which allowed him to give the people present the room to break the curse on their own. Getting Aurors or St Mungo's involved would only cause the bureaucratic machine to mess things up. They needed Hermione healed as soon as possible. And they needed something other than throwing Ginny in Azkaban as an answer to their dilemma.
Lucius sighed. "Not really. I've hexed the woman with a sleeping charm. She'll sleep for at least twelve hours. Enough time for us to do what we must and return Roger to Australia if he decides he wants to go back to her. But if the breaking of the curse takes longer, I doubt he'll be welcomed home. She doesn't seem like a rational woman. I doubt she'll forgive him for trying to save Hermione."
Kingsley frowned. "But he came willingly? Even after what you did?"
"Yes," said Lucius, suddenly inexpressibly tired. "He's her father. The woman might not be fit to live, but he's willing, has already prepared mentally to sacrifice his marriage to save his child."
The chant was actually quite simple. The words were meant to be said with as much love as they could feel and project into their words. They were written in magnified script on the Infirmary wall directly in front of Hermione's bed. The thirteen stood in a semi-circle around Hermione, holding hands with one another with Hermione as both the start and finish. Tansy, looking fragile and afraid, but determined and proud, held the hands of Luna and Astoria. Lucius stood to Hermione's left, Severus on her right. The others quietly took their places as directed by Bill. He and Minerva's roles were to ensure the magic stayed constant, and as needed, the others were instructed to hold people by their shoulders, and give them their magical strength to keep the chant and curse-breaking going until Hermione was healed.
Roger felt awkward holding the hand of the small man beside him. He had at first thought the man was a dwarf, but that couldn't be right. There was something other about him. Hermione had inherited her curiosity from him. Now, suddenly, being thrust into this alien world felt to him for the first time to be something worthwhile. The young woman who came to hold his other hand was even more magical. She was like some kind of angel or otherworldly being with hair the colour of beaten gold, eyes like Ceylonese sapphires and lips like crushed rubies. For a moment, Roger felt like his heart would break at her beauty. But then she smiled and took hold of Harry's hand and the moment passed.
Then, Bill raised his hands. Everyone stilled as suddenly a big clock appeared and the countdown to noon began. The clock began to chime and everyone took a breath to prepare. Kingsley stood to the side, like a conductor, his arms raised to direct the chanting. They'd practised, in groups and together, but this, this was it and they couldn't get it wrong.
As the last chime sounded, Kingsley brought his arms down and they began. The volume was soft at first, but as they directed their love toward the still form of Hermione, their confidence and power began to build. Those who had wands held them tightly in their dominant hand, even as they clasped the hands of those on either side of them.
By the end of the first stanza of the chant, a soft golden glow surrounded Hermione. When they began the second stanza the glow brightened, strengthened.
When it was time to start the first repeat, Bill having said they'd continue to repeat the two stanzas until the curse was broken, sweat began to appear on Ron and Percy's brows. Soon Luna and Astoria were sweating too, and then, Tansy cried out as pain began in her chest. Everyone though knew coming into this that there would be pain, some form of personal sacrifice. They couldn't stop. They had to continue.
The next to react to the spell casting was Roger. He could feel his heart beginning to pound even harder, his head screaming in intense pain. It was the worst of migraines, combined with the first signs of a mild heart-attack.
Poppy continued walking around the group, monitoring all of the vitals she'd conjured in the air above their heads. Immediately spotting the Muggle's difficulties, she sent George to hold him and give him the strength he needed.
Roger could only sigh a little into the chant as the young man's hands settled onto his shoulders. He could feel the pressure ease, the pain subside.
Molly was sent next to support Ron who was burning up with heat. She didn't just put her hands on his shoulders, she hugged him to her. She could feel the strain her son was under. She may not have felt anything much for Hermione, but Ron was her youngest son. She loved him. She poured her love to Ron, to the bond of their relationship and Ron's power and the volume of his chanting increased.
Feeling Ron's power grow, Arthur immediately copied his wife's actions and held Percy. He not only loved his son, he loved Hermione, and this soon translated into the golden glow around Hermione beginning to pulse.
"We're nearly there," said Minerva who was monitoring the curse. Bill was by now holding onto Astoria as Fleur with a smile went to support the young Veela.
The magic was growing. The curse was lifting.
A sudden pop caused everyone a moment of startlement. But they ignored the presence of the Healer who was brought by elf-apparition and went back to their chanting.
Healer Lestrange had been in a birthing room and had only just been able to respond to the call. Now she made her way to the bed and focused on Poppy's readings. Soon, she began to understand what was needed, and began to support Poppy's efforts.
They were on their seventh repetition now. All of those not involved in the actual chanting were now holding up those they could. Theo was holding onto Draco, even Winky had popped in silently to support Tansy by hugging the other elf to her. Kingsley had his hands on Harry, Tisiphone was supporting Narcissa and Poppy was holding Luna. Minerva was the last to join the circle. She paid close attention to Severus and Lucius but it was obvious the two former Death Eaters were stronger magically than anyone had previously assumed. Even Flitwick was holding his own. But, she couldn't just stand there. Wondering who to chose, she finally settled on her old friend Filius. She moved forwards and laid her hands on his shoulders. The diminutive man smiled up at his friend, but then, focused again on the chant. As the seventh repetition ended, the light around Hermione flared. A startling bang before dark grey smoke, resembling dementor fog began to rise from her. The curse was lifting.
A/N: Love it or hate it, please let me know what you think.
Also, I hope you had a truly joyous Valentine's Day. I hope the day for love and lovers was filled with love in all its forms.