DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING BELONGS TO JKR
WARNING: There are some graphic descriptions of pain in this chapter for those opposed to that sort of thing.
Daphne Is In The Details
Chapter 5
Harry Potter and the accidental Horcrux?
That last week on the farm went by far too quickly for Harry's liking. He woke up early every day so he could spend a little more time with the McDougals. He wished so much that he could have been left on their doorstep opposed to the Dursleys. Blood it turns out has no relation to family for strangers cared more for Harry than his actual relatives.
He had finished the fence by Tuesday surprisingly but he still spent the afternoons with McDougals. He'd do some gardening with Patty and attempted to help Jon fix their tractor. Neither one needed the help but appreciated the company.
Thursday night they had a farewell dinner for Harry as he hadn't planned to return until next summer. It was a rather large meal especially for a Thursday but they wanted it to be special, they had grown just as fond of Harry as he had of them.
"Now Harry dear I know you say you can't make phone calls at this boarding school of yours but I hope you can at least indulge an old lady with a letter or two." Patty said as they settled in the living room for after dinner tea.
"Of course Patty, it would be nice to write to someone. Though they might be fairly boring, you can't have too much excitement at school."
'I'm sure you can write to me about your meetings with your…." She paused to think, a puzzled look on her face. "What did you say your relationship with this girl was?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "We are in a mutually agreed non-platonic partnership."
"Ah, yes. You can tell me about your non-platonic partnership in your letters. I'll save them in case you ever get married. Or mutually agreed non-platonic union, or something silly like that."
Harry couldn't help but smile at her teasing. Patty and Jon were honestly who Harry was inspired to be. Their relationship was amazing; they had been together for fifty years and still looked at each other with such fondness in their eyes. He wanted that more than anything else.
He questioned why he was even trying with Daphne. What they were doing certainly wasn't romantic, it was structured and rigid, nothing like the beautiful chaos sung in the songs he listened to. Yet no matter how much his mind said run, he didn't. He barely fought at all.
Maybe it was magic somehow pulling him towards her. Was his magic sentient, did it respond to her magic in some way? Like magnets pulling them together, a simple force of nature. It would make sense as nothing else was logical about this. He'd have to do research once back at Hogwarts. Hermione would be thrilled.
It certainly couldn't just be that Daphne was ridiculously beautiful, surely Harry was more evolved than that. He didn't partake in the making of the Dean's List, a ranking of all the girls in their year based on snoggability. Daphne being on the top spot certainly meant nothing to Harry, who was without doubt a gentleman. Though he was curious what Dean and Seamus would say when they learned Harry was in a mutually agreed non-platonic agreement with the most snoggable witch in the school.
There was definitely something more going on and until Harry figured it all out, he would accept the contract and all that it details. Though he should probably look over the contract again more carefully, just to make sure he didn't accidentally sign his soul away.
At the end of dinner they gifted Harry a polaroid camera so he can send them pictures of his school or at least a picture of Daphne. He didn't have a heart to tell them it wasn't going to work so he just thanked them. He tell them in a letter the camera got confiscated by a teacher or something. Though maybe he could find a way to get a picture of Daphne it would be nice to have.
The walk back to the Dursleys after saying goodbye to the McDougals was tough. He was actually going to miss some people while he was at Hogwarts this year, it was a strange thought. The last three years the summers felt like purgatory, like his life was sitting in limbo waiting to go back and live again.
He was listening to the Talking Heads as he reached number four Privet drive, the place that he was meant to call home. The song "This Must Be The Place'' resonated with him. Fours walls and a roof do not make a home, you are home when you are with people who care about you.
"Home, is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
I come home, she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place.."
Harry couldn't deny the romantic sentiments of the song either as he crawled into bed. He wondered if one day Daphne would ever feel like home, but he was just being as naive as the melody of the song. They would actually have to spend time together first. Still he was hopeful.
Friday morning came earlier than expected. Harry got up shortly after five. He packed the last few things in his trunk, he sent Hedwig off with a short letter for Daphne that he'd be at St Mungos or The Leaky Cauldron until school started so she would know where to reach him. It would be a violation of contract not to update her.
Sneaking out the house and into town was a lot more difficult with a large trunk. It was about twenty minutes of dragging the trunk down the road did Harry remember the Knight Bus. Shortly after he arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. He booked a room with Tom until the first of September.
He had a shower and changed his clothes once he got to his room. He then had breakfast at the bar, nothing fancy, just porridge and toast. He told Tom he was off to St Mungos and wouldn't be back until Saturday possibly later. He tipped the man a galleon asking if he could look after his belongings and take care of Hedwig if she stops by. Tom agreed and soon Harry was flooing to St Mungos.
If any one was curious, the spell work to repair the eyes is incredibly painful. It now made sense why there was a lot of wizards who still wore glasses. Healer Gheko who was performing the torture explained what he would be experiencing. Essentially the procedure was ripping out the old optic nerves and then regrowing them. It felt as though scalpels were being dragged across your eyeballs before setting them on fire.
For some reason you can't take anything for the pain or put you to sleep, something about the optics had to be active to work. They did give him a potion to prevent tears, as those could cause problems. Eyeballs responded with doing something Harry would describe as dry heaving.
The regrowing process wasn't so much painful as it was just pure torture. It was an unrelenting itch that was unbearable. Every fibre in his being wanted to scratch his eyes out. Fortunately though Harry disagreed at the time he was completely strapped down so he could not move at all.
After everything was said and done, the process only took two hours. A potion was put on his eyes to help heal and adjust. They then casted a spell that acted as a blindfold, as his eyes weren't allowed to be exposed to light for a minimum of twelve hours. Healer Gheko told him he'd check on him tomorrow morning, leaving Harry to sit alone in the darkness.
It could have been three minutes or ten hours but time had lost all meaning in the abyss. He had hoped his hearing would improve but there must have been a silencing spell on his room as all he heard was his breath moving in and out of his lungs. Eventually he was rescued by Andi and another Healer.
"How are you feeling Harry?" He could feel her sit down and gently place her hand on his arm as she asked.
"Much better now the torture is over. I don't want to do that again." Harry said with a grin.
"Yes, I heard it is rather nasty spell work. Normally they wouldn't perform it on someone your age but I convinced them you could handle it."
"I'm not sure if I should thank you or not yet."
"Well wait till Gheko checks you over and decide then." She took a deep breath. "Anyways we should get on with why we are here."
"It's something to do with my scar you said right?"
"Yes, now this is the hard part and I have to be open with you, the director of the hospital does not support this or my diagnosis. He has however agreed to state that you hold neither the hospital or the ministry responsible for any permanent injury or death. You would need to provide an oath stating so."
"You think I could die, getting my scar healed?" This seemed more intense than what he was expecting, perhaps he should have told Ron and Hermione about it.
"Honestly your chances are about fifty/fifty and I'm probably being optimistic with those numbers. There's a very significant chance you don't survive the procedure."
"Why should I even bother, it rarely bothers me anymore. Is it actually doing any harm? It doesn't seem to be killing me." The panic was obvious in his voice.
Andi took a deep breath trying to think of the right words. "Now you wouldn't have heard much about this but there's a branch of magic known as soul magic. Actually most would say there isn't anything as soul magic because souls don't actually exist. It's considered muggle nonsense, the idea of our soul."
"I'm one of the very few who believes we do have souls and there are magics related to it. The most common soul magics would be the killing curse and the patronus charm. Though we are getting off course, the important thing is we do have souls. Though the hospital wants me to remind you that is my opinion and that of the hospitals."
"The reason I'm explaining this to you is, it is my belief You-Know-Who performed very old and very dark soul magic the night you got that scar. I'm not sure what it's called or how he did it but I know he did do it."
"You see, Egyptians have studied the principle of the Soul since the beginning of time they called it a Ka. They used to perform a ritual that would store the Ka in a container, simply known as a soul house. It is my belief that your scar is housing a piece of You-Know-Who's soul."
This is when Harry started to have a panic attack. He knew Andi was right, it made sense his scar would always react when Voldemort was near. It would be why he could speak to snakes Dumbledor basically told him that in second year. Well he said in his mysterious wizard half speak he likes to do.
Harry felt dirty, he felt violated, he was scared. He had to get this thing out of him and it needed to happen now. The memory of his parents dying became clearer, it wasn't his but Voldemorts memory. Clearly the soul was leaking into his head infecting him, one day to take over.
"Take it out, I don't care if it kills me, get the bastard out of my skull." His breath was frantic and erratic, trying desperately to get himself back in control.
"Relax Harry, I have to explain what is going to happen and you have to swear an oath then we can get that vile thing out of you." Harry only nodded as he continued to get himself under control.
"Alright, I brought in the Sisters of Osiris, to perform the ritual that will remove his soul. It's mostly chanting but it will be incredibly painful for you. It feels like they're ripping your brain out through a tiny hole your skull. This has also never been performed on a human and quite often the container is destroyed in the process. The container of course in this scenario being you."
Andi was just staring at him, though Harry really couldn't see that he was still blinded in darkness. It was sad to think Healer Gheko could be the last thing he saw before he died. He wondered if Daphne would seek damages from his estate upon his death, dying would obviously be a breach of contract.
"I, Harry James Potter, swear on my life and magic, that I will not hold St Mungos or the Ministry of Magic responsible in the result of injury or death as repercussion of the ritual I agreed to partake in. I have been given sufficient knowledge to understand the risks involved and their likelihood. With a sound mind I take responsibility and wish to proceed with the ritual."
Andi had told him the words to speak before he spoke them out loud, the oath was accepted and Andi left the room. It would only be Harry and the Sisters of Orsiris in the room. Andi explained the Sisters were witches from Egypt who worship Osiris and specialize in cleansing rituals. They spoke no English and had a strong smell of spice.
They helped Harry out of bed and pushed the bed off to the side. Two of them helped undress him while the other four drew a runic circle on the floor. Once Harry was naked the two witches drew symbols over his body.
Words couldn't properly describe how terrifying this was for Harry. He still could see nothing and witches did not speak, they hardly made any sounds whatsoever. All of a sudden freezing cold hands are grabbing his arms and pulling him from his bed.
Soon as he was up they started pulling off his clothes. He could hear the bed being pushed away followed by scratching sounds against the floor. He soon found himself bare before six unknown women, and he couldn't help but feel self conscious.
Those cold hands were soon tracing weird patterns on his body with some kind of wet substance he hoped was paint. They marked around his scar, on his chest, both wrists, his stomach and his pelvis. They had to shave a bit of hair off before placing the last one. It was the most uncomfortable moment of his life.
A few minutes later the scratching sounds stopped and they had Harry lay down on the ground. He could hear the footsteps all around him suddenly stop and the room became absolutely silent. Harry could no longer taste or smell or feel anything. He was absolutely deprived off all senses, locked in a world where time did not seem to exist.
All of a sudden his body was locked against the ground and he was unable to move at all. He could smell something burning as his first sense returned. Then came the sound of six voice chanting as one, followed closely by the taste of ash in his mouth. Then the feeling returned to his body and instantly wished that it hadn't come back.
He thought back to the eye surgery this morning with a longing for a gentler pain. He was aware of every nerve in his body and it felt like razor blades swimming through them. His muscles cramped up like they were being compressed into a trash compactor. His skin felt like it was being flayed, his finger nails like they were being pulled off.
The worst was his head. It felt like someone was trying to peel a piece of his skull off, the razor blades swam in the nervous system of his brain, a knife dug around scraping the backside of his skull. The pain only seemed to go on infinitely, and he had no memory of a time when he wasn't in pain. Please let me die was his only coherent thought.
Suddenly it stopped. Harry could see again but he was no longer in St Mungos. Oddly enough he was inside the Thornbird Tavern but it seemed cleaner and had better lighting. Solomon Grundy wasn't at the bar instead a red headed woman with green eyes still full of youth stood there.
"Have a seat Harry, we don't have long." Lily Potter spoke as she gestured to an empty barstool in front of her.
He sat down not taking his eyes off of her, if he blinked surely she'd be gone. "Mum?" He barely squeaked out.
"Yes, dear it's me or perhaps at least a memory of me. Whatever you find more comforting." She smiled at him and Harry couldn't help but reciprocate.
"Am I dead?" The question had to be asked.
"No, you're not dead sweety. This is inside of your head to some extent but it would take far too long to explain fully what is happening, so let's just enjoy it while we can." She rubbed her hand against his cheek and placed a kiss atop his head.
Harry was shocked to feel his mothers touch, so gentle and caring. The love he felt as her lips touched his forehead was overwhelming. It was like the first time feeling the sun on your skin after living your life underground. It was everything to him.
"Now I need you to know this is real Harry, that though I am gone my love for you stays with you always. So does your fathers. When you get a chance to write a letter to a lady named Beatrice Bagshot, she's a squib that lives in London. She will give you a key to a storage locker near the Leaky cauldron."
"The locker essentially contains me and your father, at least the best way you could ever get to know us. We left you our journals as well as our record collection. Now this is important, all the good ones are mine, all the awful ones are your fathers, he had shite taste in music."
"Here's my life advice for you my sweet boy. Don't let your brain stop you from finding love. I spent six years turning your father down because my brain couldn't accept what my heart knew all along. I could have had six more years with your father and time is so very short already. I learned that the hard way."
"Also if a girl is telling you to stop being an arrogant pillock, just listen to her. Honestly just find a smart witch and listen to whatever she says, it worked out well for your father."
Harry was in tears; he didn't want this to end. His mother climbed over the bar and wrapped her arms tightly around him, her chin atop his head as he cried into her chest.
"Have you heard the myth of the Thornbird this tavern takes its name from?" Harry could only barely shake his head no. "The myth of the Thornbird is that there's a bird that sings the most beautiful song, more beautiful than the song of a bird sings its song, once and only once. The bird searches its whole life for a thorn tree, and when it finds it, the bird impales itself on the sharpest spike it can find on the tree. As it dies the bird sings its song."
"Listen to me Harry and listen to me carefully, you need to hear this. I want you to remember this, the feeling of my arms around you, all the love I have for you, don't take this moment away from us. So much was stolen from us my child but we got this moment. This that you feel right now is always there, in the infinite number of infinities my love for you stays. Don't forget that Harry."
He was torn away from his mother violently, her warmth and love gone. Harry found himself feeling cold and empty in a hospital bed, something squeezing tight on his hand. He turned his head to meet the haunting blue eyes of Daphne Greengrass, her hand wrapped tightly around his in a vice grip.
AUTHORS NOTES
This chapter got away from me and ended up being much more emotionally charged than I had intended. St Mungos was only meant to be a few paragraphs and I planned to continue on with happy Harry/Daphne interactions. Idea after idea kept popping into my head and I just went with it.
Next chapter should be much lighter and contains copious amounts of Daphne in it.
The underlined and italics text are from the song "This must be the place (Naive Melody)" by the talking heads lyrics by David Byrne.
Thank you all again for reading, favouriting, following and reviewing. You are all amazing.
DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING UNLESS OTHER WISE NOTED BELONGS TO JKR
