Disclaimer: Harry Potter & his world belong to J. K. Rowling.
Rated M for mature readers. Sexual content in some chapters.
Chapter 13:
Harry was confused when he woke in the afternoon of the following day. He knew that he'd been tired, but hadn't expected to sleep this long. And he was feeling a lot more tired and weak than he should have done by now. It was only when Brad had been called that he was given an explanation as best they knew. That he'd been missing a few hours, and had been cut so that he bled. That his life had nearly been lost. Nothing else had happened of any significance.
Harry frowned at Brad. He was not being told everything. And suddenly he said, "Alex? What's happened to Alex?"
Brad hadn't been intending to tell him yet, Catherine said that Harry was too weak to try and save the two aurors, that they could wait another day. But to Harry, it was urgent to rescue pumpkin-heads. They should not be left in that awful imprisonment a moment longer than necessary.
They made him wait until after he had breakfast, and Harry found that he could scarcely walk, he was so weak.
He cured the two aurors from his bed, Louis and Grant firmly holding the arms of Alex, who was done first. But Alex had only collapsed, crying. He'd known that Harry would come, but it was awful, not being able to see, or hear, or smell, or even feel the world around him.
Two large German aurors brought in the other. Harry looked at the featureless pumpkin on the top of the shoulders of the large man. His sense of person was not reliant on facial features, and he said straight away, in a tone of surprise, "It's Emil!"
One of the German aurors nodded, "His name's Emil - did you know him?"
Harry's mouth quirked. "I bet he'll be pleased now,that he didn't succeed in destroying me," and he went to work, and Emil was suddenly free, but fighting to get at Harry, in order to obliterate the sick man who had done something unbelievably awful to him.
But the German aurors steered him away, and Harry was well protected by other aurors who surrounded his bed, blocking access by the berserk ex-pumpkin-head. Catherine made them leave him alone then, and he dozed, beginning again to recover.
Bierlitz was getting sick of his home being over-run by aurors, and by the so-called great wizard who was not so great after all, and had made trouble by getting himself taken captive. But there were three days worth of patients yet to go, and one was his wife's son, his step-son. He'd get hell from her if Harry didn't do the job.
Wednesday morning, Harry was a lot better, making a face over the potion that Catherine was insisting that he drink in spite of his objections that potions never worked on him. He was eating well, and able again to walk with just his cane to help. He still wore the sensor device, and now wore the watch with the location device on his other wrist. But he had the feeling that he was no longer in danger. He was also curious to see Simon.
But it was Julie who walked in, and he rose from his chair to embrace his wife, holding her tight. They had been apart two nights - it was a deprivation.
An auror had been with him constantly. The orders were that he was not to be left alone. But now Julie was here, and he demanded and was granted privacy with his wife. A silence shield clamped down, and Justin, on guard outside, grinned. Harry's virility was a part of the legend. Now that it was a few months ago, even the virgin who had been taken in about three seconds flat, was beginning to be a part of the stories, although the sudden end to the affair was already being forgotten. No-one dreamt of joking about it to Harry, and no auror would ever again let a woman into his room, whether or not they thought he needed sex.
Catherine was still alert for problems as Harry's recovery seemed almost unnaturally fast, and when she glanced at the monitor, she was puzzled. But when she went to see, Justin grinned, and shook his head at her, saying that he was with his wife. Catherine took another look at the monitor, and laughed to herself. So that's what that pattern meant.
That afternoon, Brad brought Simon in to see Harry, although Simon had been oddly reluctant. Harry was still feeling feeble, and was found in a chair, reading a book. He thanked Simon sincerely for rescuing him, but as soon as that was done, Brad spoke to him. "Can you tell if his memory has been modified?"
Harry raised an eyebrow, and Brad explained further. "It doesn't make sense, I think there's something missing."
Harry glanced at Simon, and couldn't help hearing a very clear thought, You don't want to know!
Harry said, perfectly honestly, "I have no trouble feeling spells, it's my job. There's been no memory modification," and he smiled at Simon, "They said you broke out of an Imperius Curse. It's a very rare thing to beat an Imperius Curse - you should be very proud of yourself!"
Simon gave him a shamed look and refused to meet his eyes. Harry had a fairly good idea of what it was all about, he'd been through it before. But he thought that if he spoke to Simon, it should not be with Brad's shrewd eyes on them, looking for the truth of the matter.
Thursday, Catherine said that Harry could resume work, but only do easy ones. Aside from working from a chair, Harry whizzed through the spells quickly and easily, only irritating the Germans at breaks by getting on his hobby horse about the futility of duelling. One pointed out to him that he'd been in a duel himself not so long ago, but Harry said reasonably, "Yes, but that was only because I wanted to kill him!"
Brad looked away, stifling a laugh. Sometimes Harry just didn't seem to think like normal people.
Harry had no chance to talk to Simon until after they returned to England. But Sunday afternoon, he was ringing the doorbell of his home, greeting Simon's pleasant young wife, and admiring her baby. She'd said that Simon would be home any minute, but when Simon walked in, it looked like he wanted to bolt.
But Harry was just talking quietly and calmly about the ornate ornamentation of the mansion belonging to Bierlitz, and having a discussion with Christine about taste in general. He said that his family all said that he himself had no taste, just because he liked bright colours, but that he never had been able to resist. Christine was shy, but becoming less shy, and finally put the beautiful baby in his lap as she went off to make the coffee.
Simon was silent, but Harry took the opportunity, in between tickling the baby, who appeared to be as fascinated by him as Harry was always fascinated by babies. Without preliminaries, Harry said that he had a good friend who had got him in the back with a Death Curse once, acting under the Imperius Curse. Someone else he once knew had tortured a friend. And he came to it, that whatever Simon had done, he shouldn't be ashamed.
Simon was looking down, thinking that no matter what he said, no man could forgive what he had so nearly done to Harry. And Harry had saved him once. He'd been drugged himself, and was to be prey.
Harry said, in a matter-of-fact tone, "I assume it was Nerrissa Malfoy, and knowing what Nerrissa likes, I assume that she had you rape me. I was just wondering if she took any film, or other evidence."
Simon was bright red. "I didn't, quite, and I destroyed the camera."
Harry smiled, "What a relief! A rape is not so bad, especially if you don't even feel it, but having everyone watch it - now that's pretty awful!"
Christine returned with some biscuits and coffee, and Harry entertained them with stories of the wonderful foals that he had now, sired by a little pinto, off two Andalusian mares, and another mare, mostly Thoroughbred. And about Clown, especially, of the odd colouring. And he was laughing about the pinto. His ambitions were still not satisfied, and they had to keep the gate to his property closed, and even then, he had somehow wriggled underneath, and he had had to pay compensation to a neighbour. He was such a brainy little horse - it would be a shame to geld him.
When Harry got up to leave, Simon rose with him, saying that he'd just walk with him a little way. Christine watched them go, thinking how very nice Harry Potter was. But it wasn't his good looks, or his approachability, or his entertaining stories - Harry had been very admiring of the fat, six month old baby. He was obviously a wonderful man!
"I'm glad you kept it quiet," said Harry to Simon. "My humiliations always seem to be so public."
Simon was silent.
Harry thought that he was still not convinced. "You really did well, you know. Hardly anyone can resist an Imperius Curse, and if you doubt that you did well, remember that you saved Alex as well as me. Emil, too, though I'm not so sure that that was such a good thing. I even forgot to give him boils!"
Simon finally, reluctantly, said, "There's something else you should know?"
Harry's heart sank. He'd heard those words before, and it was never good. He stopped walking, and waited for the bad news.
Simon had stopped, too, and would not look at Harry. "She had sex with you, and she also kept some semen - I don't quite know what for, unless she plans to have your baby."
Harry turned and started walking again. "I didn't know that one could have sex with an unconscious man, let alone do it effectively enough to get pregnant!"
Simon said nothing, and Harry spoke again. "There are certain spells that use semen - not good spells," and he shivered suddenly. "Thanks for telling me - you're right, I did need to know. But no-one else does."
A month later, he thought that maybe she didn't plan to use the semen for Dark Magic, as nothing nasty had happened to him.
**x**
He had still not been able to find Nerrissa, although he had found Kryall, thinking carefully, remembering the feel of his mind, and apparating to him. He had stayed out of sight, watching Kryall's sweet young wife, just beginning to show her pregnancy. And without restraint, he explored the mind of Kryall. It was mostly concerned with trying to find needed baby furniture at a moderate cost, as he had fled England and was terrified of being found again by Nerrissa, so had not sent for funds. Harry left him alone.
He had no sense of danger any more, and didn't think he was even being watched. He guessed that Nerrissa had what she wanted, and was content. But Jebedee wanted him to continue to wear the location device on his watch, even in England, and Harry complied. It wouldn't show up in his own hidden home, and the wrist-band concealed the embarrassing wrist scars, although they were finally beginning to fade. They did try hard to keep him safe, and he owed them some cooperation. And they had quite definitely saved his life that last time. The Ministry had also decreed that the overseas trips were to cease for the time being.
Harry was restless as the weather turned cold. He was waiting for something to happen.
Julie seemed to be happy with him, but still didn't want to travel. Harry thought they might as well travel as he wasn't working anyway, and it seemed to be raining all the time at home. He spent more time galloping and playing with his horses, both Kinsman and another black gelding, much younger, sired by a racehorse. Younger horses liked to buck and have fun, while older horses seemed to lose the desire.
Harry tried to play this way with only his own nominated horses, as other riders did not appreciate a horse that had been encouraged to buck and rear. But he was a wealthy man, and could indulge himself if he chose.
It was if he was waiting for something, and Harry continued restless. One Wednesday, it was raining again, and Harry was pacing. Julie finally told him for goodness sake to go for a walk. Harry looked at the mud outside - he was hopeless in slippery mud, and apparated to London instead.
He had nothing to do particularly, and stayed in muggle London, just walking.
His thoughts were far away, pondering again the differences he had felt in the minds of muggles as against wizards. It was a shame that it was unethical to explore minds without good reason, it would be a fascinating area of study. But what would he do with his results afterward? Wizards scorned muggles enough already without giving them any further reason to think they were a separate species. And anyway, they weren't really a separate species, or they would not interbreed so easily. He'd sired four children on muggle women himself, although he felt embarrassed about it, and was thankful that now he was respectably married again, he was safe from any more of that sort of complication.
Unless there was Nerrissa, still in hiding. Harry didn't like the idea of sharing a child with Nerrissa, but there didn't seem much that he could do about it if that was really what she wanted. He couldn't kill a pregnant woman, whether or not it was his own child that she was carrying. But there had been no word.
Julie knew, of course, that he had been in the hands of Nerrissa, but he didn't pass on what Simon had told him. Maybe Nerrissa would not succeed, or maybe it was never her intention. She could even have changed her mind...
So Harry walked, and thought, and never noticed when an auror started to keep him in sight, although staying well back.
He started to cross a low bridge under which ran a shallow stream, more mud than water, but stopped, turning his head as if scenting, although the only smells were unpleasant. And then, to the auror's surprise, he started to slide down the bank of the stream, and even took a step forward into the mud.
Lance came forward more quickly. What on earth was the man doing? Harry didn't know Lance, although he'd been around quite a while, and was a very skilled auror. His very average looks helped him be inconspicuous, and he was especially good at following people and not being noticed.
Nerrissa's information on his whereabouts had also come through the Ministry. The location device he wore mostly to please Jebedee, was now giving information to Nerrissa. The Malfoys had always been good at getting information, and help when needed.
Harry slipped, and went down on a knee, to the accompaniment of a swear word. He retreated to drier ground then, as Lance still watched, puzzled, staying out of sight.
Harry used his wand, pointed it at the mud, where an old bag lay, half in, half out of the water. The bag came to him, and Harry opened it, gently, removing the half drowned and very cold kittens. Beside him had appeared a lidded basket, and Harry carefully placed the surviving kittens in the warmed blanket inside. There were four kittens, and they all looked dead, or nearly dead. But only one was dead, and Harry stroked its skinny wet sides for a moment before it vanished in his hands.
Three kittens lay in their warmed basket. But Harry still looked. There was something else. A pair of very dirty children watched him from the opposite bank. They'd been playing dams in the mud.
He managed to make it back up the slippery, muddy bank, although with a great deal of difficulty. But he still looked at the water, walking a little along the top of the bank, a narrow track between the stream and the tiny backyards of small houses. The children lost interest, and went back to their game.
He finally saw the tied bag. This time, there was movement, and Harry rescued the mother cat, soothing her panic, and placing her in the basket with her surviving kittens. It was urgent to get them back to his warm home, and he pulled himself to more solid ground, still having trouble in the slippery mud.
When the Death Curse came, he hurled himself to the ground, rolling, his mind more on the safety of the kittens than his own danger. To the amazement of Lance, he somehow, miraculously, kept the basket upright, and even reasonably unjolted. The curse missed. Nerrissa started to utter the words again, but was brought down by Lance with a stunner.
Covered with mud, Harry nodded casually to Lance, thanking him, and set down the basket carefully, before going to Nerrissa, using his cane to keep his balance. It was still slippery.
Lance was already there, and had started to pick up Nerrissa, to take her back under arrest. He was a witness that she had tried to kill Harry Potter.
"Mr. Potter?" said Lance, "Will you come back to the Ministry with me? You're needed as a witness."
Harry shook his head, "I haven't got time right now, and I want you to leave this woman alone." He was looking at Nerrissa closely for the first time. The few times they'd met, he'd paid so little attention to her. This time, he felt her mind, so that he could find her if he wanted to. And he knew now. It didn't show yet, but she was pregnant.
Lance thought that Potter obviously didn't quite understand. He'd nearly been killed! "Look, I'm an auror, my name is Lance Gilbert. I think this is Nerrissa Malfoy, and she's attacked you before, in Germany."
Harry nodded and smiled, "How do you do, Lance," and he extended a hand, making Lance nearly drop Nerrissa as he tried to shake hands.
Harry said calmly, "I know it's Nerrissa Malfoy, and I still want her left alone."
Lance was firm. "She tried to commit a crime - I'm taking her in."
Harry paused. "I don't like fighting aurors," he said, half to himself.
Lance quietly touched the device in his pocket that called for help.
Harry still looked at him, undecided. "Will you reconsider? I really don't want her arrested!"
Lance said again, firmly. "I'm taking her in for questioning, and anyone that gets in my way is committing a crime themselves."
But Harry used a touch of magic, and Lance found himself gently putting the woman down, and unwillingly backing off. Harry picked up Nerrissa instead, planted himself firmly, and said, "Sorry, and I'll be back in a minute. Look after the kittens for me, would you?" and he disapparated.
An instant later, he was ringing the door of the Malfoy mansion, leaving her as soon as the door was answered. Lance swore, and was tempted to kick the basket of cats straight back into the stream, but refrained.
It was only five minutes later that Harry returned, opening the basket, checking on the mother cat, already busily cleaning her kittens. He touched the blanket, warming it again. He was surrounded, Lance, two aurors whom he didn't know, and Grant. They watched him in fascination.
"I need to take the kittens home," he said, "But I suppose I can spare half an hour if you really want to arrest me!"
Lance was staring, and suddenly said, disgusted, "What's the use? You'll only clear out if you choose."
Harry grinned at him, "You can name one of the kittens if you want," as if he thought that would be a compensation.
Lance was unwilling to forgive him, but Grant asked to have a look. Harry placed one of the tiny kittens in his enormous hand, and Grant stroked it gently.
"They were half drowned, but I think they'll be all right," Harry said. "Only one was dead."
Lance thought he might as well have a look, too, and pointed to a kitten, almost coal black, with just a touch of white under his chin. "Capello, I want him to be called Capello."
"Capello," repeated Harry. "I'll bring them back when they're a bit older, and you can have another look - or keep one if you like."
The big, tough aurors gathered around, and another of the kittens was passed around, tenderly, gently, while the mother cat looked on with some anxiety, until Harry stroked her, murmuring soothingly.
Nerrissa made no further attempts to kill Harry Potter. She thought that he was obviously a bit of a weakling after all. Fancy just taking her to her grandfather's!
Two days before Christmas, Harry Potter walked into the aurors' department, cane in one hand, basket of kittens in the other. And when Jebedee found him there, half his aurors were dangling bits of string in front of the kittens, now ten weeks old, and ready to go to new homes.
Lance took Capello, to the irritation of his wife, and the thrilled pleasure of his daughter, Grant took one, and another of the aurors who'd thought of arresting Harry Potter took another.
Jebedee watched in amusement. There had been some bitter complaints a month ago when Harry had refused to allow Lance to arrest the woman who had abducted him, was probably responsible for the death of Tessa, and had then tried to kill him, seriously, and without any ambiguity as to intention. And those rope marks around his wrists, now concealed with wrist-bands, had never been explained. The aurors seemed to have forgiven him now, though.
**x**
In the middle of February, Julie went in search of Harry. He was in the gym, and she watched him as he moved his body rhythmically on the rowing machine. He hadn't noticed her presence yet, and she was enjoying the sight of his strong back and arms, muscles moving, flexing, stretching. She could understand how other women might become obsessed with him. She sometimes read the loveletters that arrived for him, although he never did himself. Tessa wasn't the only young girl fancying that he should be the first. And many of his patients wrote him thank you letters as well.
Chrissy handled all that, Harry never looked at them. Julie liked to read them. There was a thank you letter from a man called Emil, for instance, especially beautifully written. Chrissy had sent the standard polite letter of reply.
Julie had something to discuss with him, but sat and waited. Harry was in a world of his own, caught up in the repeated and satisfying stretching of muscles. Only when he stopped did he notice her sitting quietly there, waiting for him.
They went together back to the loungeroom, and she showed him the article in Witch Weekly, an interview with Nerrissa Malfoy, about the steamy love affair she'd had with Harry Potter, and that she was expecting his child in the summer.
Harry read it carefully, wondering what Julie had made of it. He said, in a carefully casual tone, "Well, that sounds like a lot more fun than being used while unconscious!"
Julie said sadly, "She gets to have your child."
Harry touched her, and offered, "You get to use me whenever you want!"
Julie looked at him in his brief exercise shorts, and said, "That's true," and she pulled him up, took him to the bedroom, and they played a game of using a man while unconscious. But it ended in hilarity rather than a pregnancy.
Julie agreed to go away for a while then, and they spent several weeks in much warmer countries, including the Pacific islands, visiting Beth and Jeremiah.
In March, Harry resumed the overseas trips, although Jebedee gave him only experienced aurors in case of trouble. But Nerrissa was showing herself in public now and was seen to be pregnant. Jebedee refrained from ordering her arrest.
Harry had not denied that the expected child was his, and when Jebedee asked him, only said that he'd rather be thought of as someone who'd had an affair, than as a man raped by a woman!
**x**
One Wednesday in Spain, Harry was doing his usual job, but yawning now and then. Lady had had her foal the previous night, but having some trouble, and Harry as well as Jimmy had spent a large part of the night with her. The foal was almost as odd-looking as Clown, but was healthy. It was to be Lady's last foal. It hadn't been planned, this one, but the Pinto stallion had beaten them again.
Nearly lunch, and a patient had just been perfectly routinely and casually cured. But Harry suddenly looked up, slipped off his cape, briefly said to Alex that he'd be back as quickly as he could, and disapparated.
Jimmy Carr was at a race-horse trainer's establishment, trying to persuade the trainer not to put a bullet in the head of Pinto. Pinto had been found in the stable yard, the door of a horsebox wide open, and just finishing mating a filly, who happened to be a very famous racehorse, and entered in some important races over the next few months. Even if they aborted her almost straight away, she was going to miss at least the next big race.
Jimmy was profoundly relieved to see the boss approaching, not even wondering how he'd known to find him. Jimmy's call for help had not been deliberate, but Harry had heard anyway.
Harry wound up promising that Pinto would be gelded that very day, and this time he had even to promise to buy the filly if her owner demanded, at a truly exorbitant price. The trainer was demanding that Pinto be removed straight away, in spite of the stallion's fierce appearance whenever approached.
This was the second time that Pinto had arrived at that place, although they'd managed to keep him away from the fillies the first time. Harry had paid compensation to other horse owners too. Pinto was an incredible escape artist, and Harry loved him for his brains and his determination. Various stable assistants watched from corners, hiding their smirks from their employer.
Harry begged a bit of rope for some reins, tied it onto Pinto's halter, talking to him firmly when he made as if to snap, slipped onto his back, and only laughed as he bucked and plunged to convey his displeasure. He leaned forward, spoke into his ear, and the horse leapt into a gallop, and took off down the drive. The trainer watched him, scratching his head. Jimmy Carr grinned. The boss was something else.
But as promised, regretfully, Harry quietly and magically gelded Pinto.
He'd been away for nearly an hour, and wondered if he should claim a belly ache or something, rather than admit he'd gone to the rescue of a horse. But he was still laughing. Why did the Pinto always go for the most expensive mares? He found the team at lunch, and gave in to temptation. They'd heard about the pinto before. Justin asked the name of the filly, and he had to stop and think. He finally came up with it, "Octagonal Rose," he said, and Justin and Grant spluttered into laughter. Only about the most famous young racehorse in recent times, and Harry seemed to think that he'd probably bought her!
It was lucky that Harry was among friends. He'd not only shown that he could hear a cry for help from a very long distance, but also that his home must be near a particular racehorse training establishment. Harry was not being very discreet these days.
There was a less hot tempered discussion between Jimmy and the trainer of Octagonal Rose a few days later. It seemed that the filly's owner refused to have her aborted, and wanted to keep her. Maybe she could race again after her first foal, and, if she did lose her speed, the owner would breed from her. But Harry had to buy the foal, at a high price, as soon as it was old enough to be weaned. Harry agreed gladly. He hadn't really wanted a racehorse, and the pinto had such interesting foals.
***chapter end***