Disclaimer in Chapter 1.
Chapter IV: Limits
"Yes, Sir!" Harry yelled.
He pulled off his wizard's robes and vanished them with a flick of his wrist, exposing his chiseled chest and a pair of loose grey sweatpants. Pitch black bracers enveloped both his forearms, sucking in the light. Crossing his arms quickly, Harry clicked the locks open and ripped the bracers from his arms.
The moment the magical dampeners left his arms, Harry felt the full extent of his power well up inside of him in torrents. The world grew brighter, sharper, full of colors and smells and sounds that were suppressed along with his magical ability. Excitement grew in him. He could feel again!
"2 minutes, Headmaster." He corrected his own estimate of how long it would take him to prepare for his mission. His voice even felt stronger, more in command of itself. With all necessary haste, Harry pushed his fingers into the granite floor next to Dumbledore's office. They sank in without resistance, and the Boy who Lived pulled a thick strand of granite up to waist level. It was still connected to the ground.
Suddenly, he leaned forward and shot off like a firework. He gripped the strand of granite tightly as he was pushed down the corridor at breakneck speeds. The floor itself was moving under Harry's feet, propelling him down the hallway fast enough to make the wind whip around his messy black hair.
Rounding the corner, Harry's moving granite floor reached the staircase up to the Gryffindor Common Room. As soon as he was clear of the low ceiling of the hallway he bent his knees to absorb the impending shock. The moving floor blasted upwards violently, sending the Boy who Lived flying up an entire level.
As he reached the railing, he stuck out his hand and vaulted over it, creating another moving granite platform that rapidly carried him to the portrait hole. Lifting his free hand, he extended it out in front of him and jumped.
The portrait screamed as he dived headfirst into the stone wall next to her. Rather than impacting it spectacularly, Harry passed through it as if it were stone-colored water.
A first-year Gryffindor screamed in like fashion as a strange bare-chested man materialized in the solid granite wall, rolling and coming up at a dead run up the stairs to his dormitory. He was there and gone so fast, the young girl thought it must've been an illusion. After all, everyone knew you couldn't go through rock like that!
Reaching his room, Harry threw open his duffle bag and pulled out his combat uniform and invisibility cloak. 15 seconds later, he was changed with his wand in its holster. He pulled a large black toothpick out of the small pocket on his duffle bag and enlarged it. With a soft pop a broom with no twigs appeared in front of him. It had a diamond-shaped tail with a triangular fin on the underside of that, and was entirely black. He mounted it and shot out of the window, heading towards the last known area that the kidnappers were before they left the wards.
He had a mission. The sense of fulfillment swelled in him, steeling his resolve and driving him on.
It only took him five minutes to find what he was looking for, a portkey signature. Apparently, the kidnappers didn't bother finding out that portkey signatures were one of his specialties. 3 people had traveled, the signature was less than half a mile from the wards and it was very fresh. The threads of the signature weren't frayed at all, which made it exceedingly easy to read. Within two minutes Harry had deciphered the portkey's destination. Picking up a dead branch, he replicated the signature and made a one-use portkey. He bent his knees to lower his center of gravity, so he could react quickly to anything on the other side.
He shrunk his broom and tucked it into its pouch as he considered his options. Truthfully, he had no clue what to expect. He had no intelligence on the number of enemies, their training, or their location. He could land in a locked prison cell with anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards slamming into place around him. He could be faced with any number of situations, most of them fatal.
Common sense would tell him to wait for a scouting group to report back with significant data, then to organize an assault group to carry out the rescue mission. Dumbledore had specified that it was on his shoulders alone, which seemed reckless considering the number of unknown variables.
He shook his head violently. This was not a choice, it was a mission! It was exactly what he wanted, what he needed. He was a soldier, and he had a job to do. A semblance of normalcy in what was proving to be a rather abnormal situation. He pulled out his wand and activated the portkey.
With a tug behind his navel, the Boy who Lived appeared in a stone courtyard surrounded by lush green grass. The courtyard had a path that led up to a large manor that looked more like a medieval castle. Three identical surprised yelps were emitted, followed by three blazingly fast stunners. All three guards flew backwards, twisting rapidly in the air from the tremendous force of the spells. They hit the ground simultaneously, none of them conscious. They were grown men, not the boys who left Hogwarts with Ginny.
Harry sheathed his wand, kneeling down and putting a hand on the ground. Closing his hand, he pulled a solid-metal revolver out of the stone. He couldn't use deadly force unless his life was in danger, but he would rather be prepared. After a quick inspection to ensure that he had completed the transmutation successfully, he reached into one of his pockets.
The pocket had nothing but fine glass dust and silver flakes in it, but when Harry pulled his hand out it contained a bullet. Glass and silver made the best projectiles. One by one, he made and loaded bullets into his revolver. He snapped the cylinder into place and surreptitiously tucked the pistol into his belt, surveying his surroundings as he walked cautiously towards the manor. No alarms had been raised yet. Good. Household magical detection wards were far too common to take chances, so he didn't pull out his wand. He could remain undetected much longer if he didn't use any form of magic inside of the manor.
Luckily for him, the guard inside was less than adequate. He didn't even have his wand out! Harry donned his invisibility cloak and walked straight up to the armed man, circling around behind him and casually taking off the cloak. The man still couldn't see him, so he pocketed the cloak first. He'd need both hands for this, as he didn't want to use magic and give away his presence.
Reaching around the guard's neck with his right hand, Harry bent him over backwards and quickly clasped his left hand over the man's mouth. The struggling was muted, as every time the man would squirm Harry would squeeze his throat a little more. When the unfortunate man reached for his wand, Harry pinched hard, cutting off his air supply and the blood flowing to his brain. Unable to breathe and quickly losing consciousness, the man got the idea and raised his hands in a show of surrender.
"Where is she. Quietly." Harry didn't ask, his whisper promising cruel and unusually painful things. He released the man's mouth and lessened the pressure on his neck so he could speak.
The man caught a breath of fresh air and said in his quietest voice, "I was just told to watch out for people, I don't know anything about any girl. I just watch, that's all. Give me a break!"
Harry clasped his hand tightly over the man's mouth again, who began to struggle in earnest. His hands flailed, clawing at the Gryffindor's face and kicking out, stamping, making as much noise as he could. It wasn't much. Negligible, really, as very quickly things were going to get a lot worse for him.
"A break." He repeated, his right hand snaking out and snatching the man's flailing hand out of midair. Twisting sharply, Harry broke the thin bone that supported muscles attached to the thumb. The man writhed and let out a muffled scream, but the 6th year's grip was too strong. "205 more bones in your body. I've got as long as it takes. Save yourself the pain." The man was sweating profusely, his struggling had waned as his mind tried to overcome system shock. Seconds ticked by, the man unwilling or unable to speak under the circumstances.
Maybe he needed a little more incentive. The scaphoid was the easiest and least painful bone to break in the wrist, and he still had the carpals and metacarpals before he moved on to the rest of the hand. The anatomy classes he had taken were proving to be incredibly useful, considering they had taught him to do exactly this.
Without warning, Harry's hand wrenched viciously in a jagged W movement. 7 consecutive wet cracking sounds were heard as the Boy who Lived crushed every delicate bone in the man's wrist. "198 bones left." The man howled behind Harry's hand, his eyes bugging out as the pain became unbearable. His hand would never operate at full efficiency again, even the best magical healers would never be able to straighten out his fingers. The man nodded furiously, beads of sweat rolling off of his face.
"Talk." Harry whispered. "Quietly."
After waiting for a few seconds, the Boy who Lived let off of the man's mouth slightly while he caught his breath. Broken bones made it hard to speak properly, as Harry well knew. The man gasped, gulping down ragged breaths of air as he convulsed from shock. He managed to steady his breathing enough to make coherent sentences.
He spoke in his softest whisper, agonizing over the thought that Harry (who still had a firm grip on his obviously broken wrist) would cause him more pain. "Stairs down the hall... three boys and a girl... Maybe they're yours... maybe not. Don't hurt me! I'll tell you whatever you want."
Harry balled up his fist and hit the man on the back of his head, knocking him out instantly. He had no further use for the man, and he was getting rather loud. It was only a matter of time before someone heard him. The 6th-year Gryffindor pulled the knocked-out guard into a dark alcove across the corridor and pushed him in until he was covered in shadow.
The stairs down the hall. Seemed easy enough. He donned his invisibility cloak again and crept down the hall, his senses on high alert. The door was ajar, so he eased it open and snuck silently down the stairs.
More than anything, it looked like a dungeon. A dank, moss-covered dungeon of stone with a wide, empty hallway and several rooms with thick iron containment bars for doors. None of the rooms were occupied, but the whole place reeked faintly of urine and blood.
As Harry reached the wooden door on the opposite end of the hallway, he heard voices inside. They were heavily muted, which led the Boy who Lived to believe that the door was thicker than he could break down physically. If the door was locked, he'd just use his Godfather's knife.
Reaching into a utility pouch, Harry withdrew the blade and tested the lock. There was no audible sound, meaning the door was unlocked already, and the blade went back into its pouch. He still couldn't use magic, but there were other ways of hearing through doors. Remarkably simple ways, once you knew the trick. The Gryffindor put his chin firmly onto the door, letting the vibrations from the sound on the other side travel to his ear. It greatly amplified the sound, he could make out most of the words now.
A rich baritone voice was speaking. The boy enunciated clearly, and his accent sounded aristocratic. A wealthy Londoner, from the sound of it. "-care less about how that bitch thinks we should run things. Our way worked, no mistakes were made. We're here, we've got the girl, we're ABOUT to send our demands and she's sitting pretty in her mansion telling us we did it all wrong! No I'm not going to apologize, she's an incompetent bastard and he knows it! She flaunts it, for merlin's sake!"
A quieter, soothing voice spoke. This boy hadn't hit puberty yet, his voice was still quite high-pitched. Almost squeaky, with an accent that spoke volumes. This boy was most likely raised in an intelligent home, his logic was very sound. "I'm not getting into this with you. The point she's trying to make is that you were reckless."
The boy sighed, sounding tired and exasperated. He spoke again, slowly as if addressing a petulant child. "We weren't more than 500 yards from the wards when you used that portkey, they can track things like that you know. I wouldn't be surprised to find this place overrun come tomorrow morning. The ministry works quickly with this sort of thing. Especially if it's the Minister's daughter! You should have waited until Saturday, Hogsmeade would have covered our tracks infinitely better. We've got 2 hours, maybe 3 until they find our hideout. We'd better be gone by then."
Harry's standard operating procedure was clear about situations like this. Only 2 people speaking, but that didn't mean only 2 people. He didn't know who was in charge, or if any of them were. He'd get much more out of them if he waited until they gave him the information unknowingly. It was the only sure way to know if he was getting accurate information, which was far better than information given under duress. IUD (Information Under Duress, torturing for information) was vital in it's own way, but inferior. Memories could be tampered with, there were ways around truth serums if you were rich and powerful enough, and the spoken word was almost always wrong even under severe pain induction.
It was a grey area in some cases, but this was a rather clear-cut decision that had been made a decade ago. He was to wait, regardless of internal circumstance, until viable information was provided. If he didn't know who the leader was, he didn't know anything.
The Londoner spoke again, this time it was just as emphatic but slightly less clear. He was speaking away from the door. Usually, it meant he was either resting next to the door or looking at something or someone that happened to be in the other direction. "2 or 3 hours, eh... That's more than enough time for what I've got in mind. Unconscious and helpless is just my type." The sound of footsteps walking away from the door, muted clops. He was wearing leather-soled dress shoes. Completely unsuited for combat or escape. It was good news, but Harry felt his heart sink as the boy continued. "I'd like a bit of alone time with our esteemed guest, Adrian. Half an hour."
More footsteps. Softer, almost inaudible. The voice was less calm and a little more assertive. "I've risked my education, my reputation, and my life by coming here and helping you. I made the portkey, I provided a place to keep her, and those are my guards outside. All you've done so far is ruin my plans at every turn. Our orders were simple. Take the girl, keep her safe during negotiations. As soon as we get what we want, kill her. No part of that instruction said anything about sexual contact! I know you hate her, but do you really want to risk her anger?"
The aristocratic voice scoffed. "I couldn't care less about that smug little whore. Now get out before I start to lose my temper!"
There was a pause. The two boys were probably staring at each other, a silent contest of wills. It was obvious who would win. The softer voice gave in. "Fine. But don't bruise her face or her arms. She needs to look unhurt and unspoiled for negotiations to proceed. You've got 30 minutes." The sound of footsteps coming towards him. Perfect.
Pulling out his invisibility cloak, Harry covered himself in it and shrank back into the corner. The door opened and a lanky boy with sandy blonde hair marched out, stamping his feet loudly. He was clearly irritated, lines of anger etched into his face. "That bastard, who does he think he is..." He said to nobody in particular, kicking the door shut loudly and swearing. Judging from the fact that he was the only one to leave, that meant only one remained in there. This boy was useless to him.
Pain exploded in his head as a fist impacted it, then darkness claimed him.
The Boy who Lived silently dragged the limp form back to the corner and went back to the door. His orders were clear, but he couldn't just leave Ginny in there to be ...
Harry blinked. He'd seen horrible things in his life, things that no human being should ever have to witness. Things that would haunt normal civilians to the end of their days. It had never affected him much, he'd been witness to these things since he could remember. But the very thought of Miss Weasley being taken advantage of seemed unbearable to him. Something inside of him twisted painfully.
He didn't have any more time to waste, information seemed insignificant compared to what was about to happen in that room filled with unknowns. There was no rationalizing this feeling, no logic that could defeat it.
Balling up his fists, Harry's hand closed on the door and he ripped it open.
"I said half an hour, you bloody-" The voice cut off abruptly. The Londoner had dark brown hair, bluish grey eyes and a thin nose, he looked more confused than enraged. Obviously, he wasn't expecting visitors at this moment. His robes were cast off hurriedly, his white dress shirt was off and he was working on his pants. Ginny hadn't been touched yet, and the Gryffindor felt relief flooding him even as rage crackled inside of his eyes.
The boy looked to his right, where his wand was no doubt concealed within the pocket of his robes. That was a mistake he wouldn't have time to regret until he woke up. Harry cracked his knuckles and advanced on the boy. As much as he was trained to show no emotion, he was going to enjoy every moment of beating this boy.
The brown-haired wizard shook himself from his trancelike state and took up a fighting stance. It seemed less than adequate, as if he'd been trained out of boredom rather than necessity. "If you think you can waltz in here and take her, Potter, you've got another thing coming. I've been trained in boxing." The hunched posture, hands up to protect his face, his form wasn't bad. But boxing was far from a complete martial art, it didn't even take into account that your enemy might actually use his legs for something other than standing.
Harry's foot flashed out, his heel making contact with the boy's right kneecap. A suppressed crunch and a satisfying scream rang out as the blue-eyed wizard collapsed on the floor clutching at his ruined leg. It would take days to heal him enough to stand up, weeks before he could walk, and at least a month if he wanted to run. For good measure, Harry viciously kicked his knee in exactly the same spot. He was rewarded with another bloodcurdling scream and a newly broken hand.
"Who ordered you to take Ginny Weasley?" Harry asked, staring down at the boy with cold eyes. The brown-haired youth was rolling on the moist stone floor, the shout fading as his breath expired. He sucked in a ragged lungful of air and screamed again.
"I won't ask you again. You want to keep your other knee?" The threat was clear, and the boy wrapped his good arm around his good knee protectively, shaking his head to ward off more pain.
"Please no!" He whimpered, sounding quite pathetic. His nose was running, his eyes were leaking tears freely. No pain tolerance whatsoever. "Please, don't hurt me! It was all Adrian's idea, I was forced to come here!" He lied through his teeth. Harry didn't even need to think about this boy's trustworthiness.
"You're lying. You've got 3 seconds to give me a name or I start breaking you." He reached out towards the boy on the ground, who shrunk away in fear.
"Bellatrix Lestrange! It was all her idea, please don't hurt me anymore if you just leave me alone you'll never see me again!" He blurted out hastily, grating his teeth and sucking in a harsh breath as his shattered kneecap twisted under his skin. He stopped moving immediately.
Harry could tell he wasn't knowingly telling a lie. That was good enough. "Where can I find her?"
"Her mansion's in Essex, it's unplottable. There's a book at Hogwarts that has her floo password... Fortuna Juvat's the book! In the potions section!" He looked worried, as if his answer wasn't good enough. He began whimpering pitifully. "I can't take you there, this place doesn't have a floo. Please, don't kill me. I'll never do another bad thing as long as I live if you just let me go..."
Begging rarely worked in a wartime environment. The only chance it had was in your captor's good graces. Unfortunately for him, Harry had never been taught good graces. This was an enemy, out to harm him and the people around him.
"Sleep." Harry said, delivering a swift kick to the side of the boy's head. The brown-haired youth lost consciousness immediately.
After shoving the boy unceremoniously into a corner, he made his way towards the hostage. Ginny was laying face up on the floor unconscious. She looked peaceful, as if she wasn't about to be bartered about like a red haired bag of money and promptly murdered in thanks.
Her hair was fanned out around her head, meaning that she was placed in this position carefully. The chances of her skull being hurt as a result of her transport were minimal, but Harry checked her out anyways. Concussions he could deal with, but if she had cracked her skull there was no way for him to transport her without using magic.
She suffered no cranial fractures, thankfully, and appeared to be breathing normally. Her pulse was strong. Her arms and legs were unbroken. Her ankles were not sprained. Good, he could exfiltrate her from this dungeon painlessly.
He was checking her neck when something flitted across his consciousness. There was something incredibly familiar about the redheaded Gryffindor in front of him. Seeing her like this brought a strong sense of nostalgia, even déjà vu. Like this was a replay of some past event, rather than somewhere in the present.
Harry blinked, and during that split second of darkness when his eyes were closed he saw a picture of something different. It was Ginny, still in her Hogwarts robes, still unconscious, but different. Younger.
His eyes opened, and it was gone.
What was that? Harry asked himself, but quickly shook it off. There was no time for thoughts, he had a hostage to rescue. His lack of sleep was getting to him already, this wasn't good. He had to get Ginny back before his senses deteriorated any further, or it could jeopardize the mission. His movements were already getting sloppy. Damn.
As he planned their escape route, he mechanically took out his wand and pointed it at Ginny. He was quite surprised, then, to find his mouth opening and saying, "Enervate."
The second the magical signature left his wandtip, Harry felt anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards slam into place around them. He had forgotten about not using magic. The wards were unbelievably strong! He cursed himself for his mental lapse, he should have been prepared for magical detection! Gripping his wand and entirely alert now, he assessed the situation.
It seemed like a coin toss, ready to fall either way at the slightest inclination. Coin tosses were almost as bad as SIRIs. Situation: Impossible, Retreat Immediately. Gritting his teeth, he cleared his head as best he could. Things were about to get really ugly.
Ginny, groggily waking from three stunners over the past fifteen minutes, suddenly shot up with a gasp. She was looking straight ahead, rather than at Harry. "Don't touch me, you-!!" Harry clamped a hand over her mouth as she stared off into space, her mind not entirely caught up with the situation. It took a bit of time for victims to realize that their captors were incapable of consciousness. Ginny looked around silently, confused, before her eyes finally came to rest on the black-haired 6th year.
There were several seconds of quiet, then Ginny's eyes filled with tears. She latched onto the Boy who Lived tightly, sobbing, "Harry! Oh thank God you came, I was outside the common room and I heard someone behind me, then everything went dark and I was so scared!" She babbled for a few moments, but quickly degraded into incoherent sobs. Harry sat rigidly, it was a very awkward situation to find himself in. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with this crying girl who was hugging him rather tightly, so he did what he was trained to do: move.
He had no time for more research concerning his secondary objectives, time was critical in rescue situations. There was no way he could evacuate all three of them without being seen, he had to leave the boys. That was fine, he'd get mind rips from them and they'd serve just about the same purpose. He tapped the unconscious boy in the corner's head, drawing several thick silver strands out. Two small glass vials were pulled from his pocket, and he emptied the strands into one of them. He filled the other vial out in the dungeon, then came back in to find a very confused Ginny looking up at him. She was still on the floor, right where he left her.
"I'm here to rescue you, Ginny, and we haven't got time for this. Stay two feet behind me and don't make a sound, I'll get you out of here." He holstered his wand, pulled her into a standing position and made his way over to the far door on the other side of the room.
Extending his senses, he couldn't detect any sound or footsteps or magical auras from the other side of the door. Cautiously, he pushed the door open and peered out into the hallway. He had no idea what was going to happen, but he had been trained for nearly every possible scenario.
There was a metallic click from his left, Harry's head swiveled to see a man clad entirely in black with a muggle assault rifle shouldered in his direction. Adrenaline spiked through his system, he ducked and slapped the wall with his left hand, pulling out a thick sheet of stone that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. Ginny winced, preparing for the magical backlash, but none came. She didn't have any time to think on that oddity, as three staccato barks came from her left. She screamed as a wall of stone erupted from the corridor, blocking her view.
The wall stopped two of the projectiles, but wasn't quick enough. One of the projectiles hit Harry in the left shoulder. He was turned sideways from the impact, which shattered his collarbone and rotator cuff. Pain exploded inside his head, edging at the corners of his vision. The wall began to lose its form, so with a grunt of pain Harry pulled his hand out of the stone. It froze instantaneously.
Without making another sound, Harry patted his now-useless arm. It stuck firmly to his abdomen, minimizing its motion as he pushed Ginny down the hall in front of him to shield her from further bullets. Then he whipped the revolver out of his belt and spun on his heel, taking aim and firing a single shot around the hastily constructed stone barrier. He violently repressed the pain signals his body was sending him as he heard a gurgling cry of pain from the man. Direct hit. A muggle with an assault rifle, that's why he couldn't detect his magical aura! Who was the owner of this place, and why did he have such guards?
Questions were for after-action reports. "Move!" He shouted to Ginny, spurring her on as he cut in front of her again. "Stop!" There were footsteps coming from around the corner, and there was nowhere for him to run. He couldn't fight with one arm and 5 bullets, and he couldn't concentrate enough to transmute a pebble at the moment. The pain in his shoulder was increasing steadily, eroding his concentration immensely.
Gritting his teeth in frustration, he whipped out his wand and pointed it at the ceiling. A purple beam erupted from the tip and exploded violently against the stone, creating a hole 4 feet wide.
Gathering Ginny up, he slung her over his good shoulder amid protesting cries. "Shh." He silenced her with a word, then crouched. He forced his magic to concentrate in his legs, and a second later he leapt upwards. Ginny screamed.
They soared through the hole in the ceiling, nearly fifteen feet straight up before Harry started to fall again. He bent his legs and absorbed the impact, then set Ginny down and pulled the black toothpick out of his pocket. Shouts were heard from the level below them, from under the hole they had just jumped up out of. "He went up, let's get him!"
Harry pointed his wand at the hole and another purple jet shot out, this one much larger. Several agonized screams erupted from somewhere below them as an explosion of stone sent razor-sharp rock flying in every direction, cutting anyone in line of sight severely. Without skipping a beat, Harry flicked his wand and sent a good twenty feet of floor in each direction crashing downwards, crushing anyone unlucky enough to be situated under it. They were now standing on a three foot wide section of stone suspended by the walls alone above a ten foot drop into a pile of rubble. Ginny's heart sank. How would they get out now?
The small black toothpick expanded into a full-size broom instantly, "Get on." Harry commanded. Ginny found herself obeying before she could even think about it. He mounted the broom behind her and wrapped his good arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. "Hold on tight."
And the next moment they were speeding through the corridor at breakneck speeds, eliciting a cry of surprise from a pair of muggles with assault rifles. Harry's foot flashed out, impacting one muggle's head spectacularly with a very unpleasant-sounding crunch. They made it safely past the second guard, but the Boy who Lived pulled out his revolver and fired a shot backwards, hitting the other guard right below the throat. He couldn't take chances with those assault rifles.
The exit was straight ahead, and they sped out into the gloriously bright sunshine. The wind whipped Ginny's hair out, obstructing Harry's view of the land. Leaning forward, he kicked the broom into high gear and tore off towards the horizon.
Several miles later, they were passing over a thick forested area. Ginny had just about gotten used to the amount of wind whipping her face when they plummeted earthward without so much as a word from Harry. She shrieked.
They landed quickly in a clearing 40 feet wide. Harry dismounted and dropped the broom, then looked at the redhead seriously. "Take off your clothes." He ordered Ginny.
Her robes were halfway undone before she thought about how absurd the order was. She clutched at her Hogwarts outfit protectively, backing away from the Boy who Lived as he bent down to pick up a medium-sized rock. Her heart caught in her throat. She didn't know that Harry was this type of guy! "I'm glad you saved me and all, but I'm not ready to do this..." She said it as kindly as possible, all the while getting ready to kick him in the crotch as soon as he stepped within range.
Harry lobbed the rock towards Ginny with his good hand, then whipped out his wand and pointed it at the projectile. Ginny screamed and held up her hands protectively, squeezing her eyes shut as something hit her. Something ... light and soft? Her eyes shot open to look at the foreign object that Harry had tossed at her.
A neatly folded set of clothes much like Harry had on. She blinked. What the hell was going on here?!
"There is a good possibility that the enemy put a tracking charm on your clothes. We cannot afford to be intercepted on our way back to Hogwarts. Remove everything you are currently wearing and put these on instead. Shoes are coming." Harry said in his signature monotone.
Relief flooded through her. So Harry wasn't trying to take advantage of the situation! She nearly chuckled at her naivety. Of course he wouldn't do that, he's a soldier! She mentally berated herself for thinking so little of the Boy who Lived as she shrugged off her Hogwarts robes.
A pair of comfortable-looking shoes appeared in Harry's hand, and they changed shape continuously as he stared intently at her feet. When they seemed close enough, he transfigured a pair of wool socks and tossed the package at Ginny's feet. Her white blouse was undone, and she looked at him pointedly as he continued to stare at her.
His face was all business, just like it always was, but she was a girl! Didn't he know that you weren't supposed to stare like that, especially if someone's getting undressed?
"Would you please turn around already, Harry?" She said through gritted teeth. Did he need everything spelled out for him? There was no possible way that someone out there was so dense.
Harry nodded and spun around smartly. "I tried to make the clothes to fit, but I have only made men's clothes before. Your proportions were substantially more difficult."
He said it so simply, as if he hadn't just been staring at her body. Like he wasn't interested at all. Ginny didn't know whether to feel relieved that Harry wasn't a pervert or insulted by his lack of interest! The boy was so infuriating sometimes, and he didn't even know it, which made it all the worse...
She practically tore the rest of her clothes off in her frustration, including her shoes and stockings. The wind was rather calm in the clearing but it wasn't just the cold she was dreading. Harry Potter was no more than ten feet away from her, she was supposed to get completely naked and just TRUST that he wouldn't sneak a peek? Her thumbs rested on the elastic band of her panties uncertainly. Her face got successively darker, until it was beet red. She inhaled, trying to calm down. Any way you looked at this, it was incredibly awkward.
Oh what the hell, she'd kill him later if he peeked anyway. She stepped out of her undergarments and reached for the combat uniform he had transfigured for her. It was surprisingly soft, much softer than his own uniform in any case. She unfolded the pants and a pair of plain black boxers fell out. He really had no clue about women, did he?
Repressing a giggle, she put on the clothes and buttoned them up. He hadn't included a bra, but she was young and small enough that it didn't really matter. The clothes were baggy everywhere, but it wasn't a bad job considering the starting material and the fact that it was airborne when he did it. He didn't even know how impressive something like that was, and using only one arm to do everything. Was this some form of training? Why was his other arm stuck to his side like that?
Well, she'd never understand his peculiar behavior, what made this any different? "Alright, I'm done." Harry turned around and stepped forward as he looked her over with a critical eye. Her cheeks flushed again. He ran a finger over the seam of the transfigured utilities and they tightened up properly until they were no longer falling off of her. They felt custom tailored! She slipped on the socks and trainers, and then nodded. "What now?" She asked him, making a mental note to have him fix a few of her clothes back at Hogwarts that were a little off. He sure was a useful bloke to have around...
"Now you get back on the broom and we get you back to Hogwarts." He pulled out the invisibility cloak and heard her gasp.
"That's an invisibility cloak!" She said, astonished. Books had touched on the rarity of that gossamer fabric, but words couldn't do justice to how impossibly expensive they really were. Harry Potter had one? Who was she kidding, he probably had two in case one stopped working. Life just wasn't fair.
"Affirmative. Now get on." He motioned, and the broom jumped into his hand. He held it out for Ginny, who mounted it quickly. Once again, he sat directly behind her. He was close enough to feel his heart pulsing steadily in his ribcage. It felt more than a little odd to have the entire length of his body pressed up against her.
"Is that really necessary, Harry?" She asked as he scooted in even further.
"Affirmative. In the case of hostile interference, standard operating procedure confirms the life of the hostage more valuable than the life of the soldier. Full contact is the best way to protect you from injury or death. If I am hit, keep flying straight ahead until you reach Hogwarts. Do not land under any circumstances. If I fall off the broom, do not attempt to save me or rescue me. The invisibility cloak should catch my body. No matter what happens, fly straight ahead and don't stop until you get to Hogwarts. I will protect you." The cloak went over them both, covering the broom in its entirety. Harry tied it together under behind their legs and hovered off the ground, rotating the fabric so the knot was above his head. They were completely invisible from the ground, now.
So if someone shot something at them, he was supposed to take the hit? He said it so calmly, as if it were his lunch break rather than his life on the line. She had no idea how he managed.
He leaned forward and they shot off into the sky once more, gaining altitude until they were at least a thousand feet above the ground. She had never been this high on a broom before, and strangely enough, it didn't frighten her at all; she had the Boy who Lived leading her on this guided tour.
It was beautiful from way up here, but Merlin, it was cold! Ginny shivered involuntarily, then felt a tap on her back and soothing warmth spreading through her uniform. Harry must have put a type of warming charm on her clothes. Sometimes he was so considerate... She bit back a smile at his thoughtful gesture, enjoying the view as they rocketed through the air. There was no wind inside the invisibility cloak, although the force of it should be tearing apart the thin material by now. Odd. Just one more thing she felt she'd never understand.
They flew for what felt like several hours; she watched a stellar sunset and shot glances back over her shoulder at Harry every once in a while. He looked exactly the same as he always did; eyes focused intently on some goal far out of sight, rigid posture and arm clamped firmly around her petite waist. Any other guy doing that would have sent creepy shivers up her spine, but Harry was different. He did things because they needed to be done, not because he enjoyed them. She partially respected that, but mostly it seemed sad. Ginny couldn't help but wonder if he ever did anything just for the fun of it.
They changed directions slightly, but soon caught sight of the familiar outline of Hogwarts. Harry took them straight down towards the gates, where a group of unknown wizards and witches and Albus Dumbledore were waiting. He untied the cloak and pocketed it as he descended, the people on the ground saw him and motioned him down. He landed and dismounted rigidly, picking Ginny up and setting her on the ground gently. The broom shrunk once more, and he tucked it into his pocket. There were at least two dozen Aurors lined up behind the Headmaster. Harry approached Albus and saluted rigidly, then stood at attention. His left arm was still stuck to his side, but his right arm was pointed straight down.
"Report." Albus intoned, his eyes briefly glancing at Harry's left arm.
"Sir, Ginny Weasley is safely in custody. All other involved personnel were left behind for security reasons. I have procured mind rips from both involved parties for perusal at your leisure." He took the two small vials out of his pocket and handed them over to Dumbledore, who nodded.
"The location of the manor has been confirmed, a tuned portkey can be made for Kingsley Shacklebolt as soon as my concentration has stabilized adequately." His voice betrayed nothing.
Albus's eyes flashed, concerned. "Explain."
Harry continued, "During the course of the mission, I was hit by a physical projectile in the left shoulder. I believe it shattered my collarbone and rotator cuff. Blood loss was negligible due to the small caliber of the round; possibly 5.56mm NATO ammunition. I estimate a 16-hour recovery time with supplemental potions. This amount of time is not feasible considering the mission, so the location of the holding site can instead be projected to your mind upon request. I was able to secure information concerning my secondary objectives."
Most of the Aurors were watching Harry intently, clearly surprised that the boy was this disciplined.
"One of the boys, under duress, stated that Bellatrix Lestrange both ordered the mission and facilitated it. She has a mansion in Essex, unplottable but hooked up to the floo network. The password for the floo is in a potions book inside Hogwart's library entitled 'Fortuna Juvat'. I strongly suggest immediate action at that location, with a force of no less than twenty Aurors. Given my sleep-deprived state and current injuries, I am operating at less than half of optimal efficiency at the moment. I would recommend against deploying me again for at least 24 hours."
Dumbledore nodded. "Noted. Project the location of the holding site, then deliver Miss Weasley and yourself to the Hospital Wing immediately for processing. I will contact you for your after-action report." Harry reached up and touched Albus's temple, then saluted again. He turned to the side and guided Ginny toward the main gates with his good hand, she put up no resistance.
"And Harry?" Dumbledore called out after him yet again. Harry stopped and turned.
"Yes Headmaster?" he answered formally.
Albus looked at the boy with shining blue eyes, a small smile on his face. "Thank you."
Harry nodded, "Just doing my job, sir." He turned and continued to the gates.
Ginny felt guilt creeping into her. He'd been shot with a muggle weapon? She couldn't see him bleeding, she couldn't even see the hole because of how dark his uniform was. He looked like he always did, although he was perspiring slightly. Harry had been shot, he was bleeding, and it was all her fault. If she'd have just paid more attention to her surroundings, none of this would have happened. She felt so weak...
Tears came unbidden to her eyes; her hands started to shake as they walked through the double doors of Hogwarts. The shock of the situation had begun to wear off and the adrenaline spikes had tapered down. It left her rattled, her nerves were frayed and her body was collapsing from the strain. Her muscles were shutting down. She started up the first flight of stairs and her leg buckled under her.
Before she could even cry out in surprise, Harry's good hand snaked around her waist and stopped her. She pulled herself weakly back to an upright position. "It's alright, Ginny. Just breathe, you have been through a lot today." The words were comforting, but there was no emotion behind them. It was like a script he read to ease her mind. She swung her arm around his shoulders, leaning heavily on him for support. Harry took hold of his ruined arm and pulled it away from his abdomen. Ginny winced as his bones grated together. He didn't even flinch. He twisted his arm until it was bent at the elbow to 90 degrees.
"Petrificus." He said quietly, freezing the broken arm in place rigidly. Without warning, the Boy who Lived picked Ginny up and swung her legs over his ruined arm. Surprisingly enough, the arm held. She'd never heard of using a petrificus charm like this, but based on the sound alone it was incredibly painful.
She gingerly put her arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly. After a cursory glance, he started up the stairs again. Ginny cried openly, tears of frustration carving paths down her cheeks. She was useless. He'd been shot, she hadn't gotten so much as a scratch out of the whole thing and somehow she was the one that needed to be carried to the Hospital Wing.
"I'm sorry, Harry... I'm so sorry..." She whispered through her tears. She was on the verge of sobbing uncontrollably from the self-pity she was experiencing. How did he do it? She buried her head in his chest, leaking warm tears onto his combat uniform as they made the trek to the Hospital Wing.
Madam Pomfrey had been informed, so there were two fresh beds waiting for them and a whole slew of potions on a tray. She was all business. "Over here, Mr. Potter. Put Miss Weasley on the bed and take off your uniform."
Harry did as instructed, stepping out of his boots, pants and jacket. He heard Pomfrey gasp as he unfroze his arm and slipped his jacket off. The damage didn't look that impressive, he'd definitely had worse days.
Ginny couldn't help but stare as the Boy who Lived diligently removed his shirt with one arm. His muscled chest was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, causing the filtered sunlight to reflect off the hard angles of his abdomen. In the soft light, she could make out numerous pink scars on his body. Some fine and thin, one particularly jagged one that started just below his navel and extended clear around the side of his waist. The way the scar went, it looked like he'd almost been cut in half!
Ginny bit her lip to keep from saying something stupid. How did he get all these scars, and why? A familiar lump of pity welled up in her throat as she wondered, not for the last time, just how much Harry Potter had seen of Hell. His pants went next, and she idly wondered what his definition of 'uniform' was. All he had left were his boxers, and those really didn't need to be removed, did they? Surely, he wasn't going to...
Her eyes grew as wide as saucers as he hooked his thumbs around the waistband of his boxers; she tore her eyes off of him and turned around before he could remove them in front of her. She heard the telltale sound of fabric sliding against skin as he stepped out of the last piece of his uniform. She didn't understand how he could be so uncaring about being stark naked in front of two women, her especially!
"Good heavens, child, what happened?" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, ushering him towards the bed and into a hospital gown, helping him to lie down gently. From what Ginny heard, the medi-witch didn't seem phased by the black-haired boy's sudden nudity, nor did she hesitate in her duties. Ginny admired her professionalism. If it were her doing the healing, she probably would have just stood there, staring at him like a particularly lean cut of meat.
"I've been shot." Harry said in a monotone, diagnosing himself. "I believe the projectile shattered my collarbone and rotator cuff. I will require a vial of skele-gro and a small flask of muscle regenerator, if you have any in stock. Please attend to Ginny, I can administer the potions myself."
Madam Pomfrey looked at Harry with suspicious eyes. "Alright, but if you leave even a drop left in that vial I'll force-feed you another one. I'll find you a muscle regenerator, I'm sure I've got one somewhere..." She muttered as she gathered his discarded Combat Uniform and dumped it in a bin at the foot of his bed.
After handing him two glass containers filled with noxious-looking potions, she turned her attentions to Ginny. "Well dear, I'm sure it's been a long day for you." She smiled down at the youngest Weasley as she performed a basic checkup.
She had no idea.
Her dreams were unsettling. Scenes from the day kept flashing through her head, most of them violent. Harry was a completely different person out there when he had killed those men. She had no idea if the boys that kidnapped her were still alive. Anything they got was certainly deserved, but they were her classmates; she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for them. The dreams grew more troubled, until she woke and sat up with a start.
It was dark in the Hospital Wing, save the beams of moonlight that filtered in through the windows. She turned to her right and looked at Harry's bed.
He was there, propped up rigidly against his pillow and staring off at a point in space. He wasn't moving, but he was definitely awake. "You should be sleeping." He informed her, not looking away from his focusing point.
"So should you." Ginny retorted groggily. What time was it?
"I find it impossible to sleep when regrowing bones. It is quite painful." He said it so plainly, so evenly that Ginny almost doubted that he was telling the truth. Talking just as he always did, did he really expect her to believe what he said? That, and why did he sound so familiar with regrowing bones? "Are you feeling alright, Ginny?" he asked.
"Yeah, I just had a bad dream." She answered truthfully. "Some evil men kidnapped me."
Harry nodded, still staring off at some invisible point in space. "Well, I'll rescue you from those men too. Please get some sleep."
Just then, she caught a slight motion from his shoulder. It twitched, then ... shifted. Something under his skin was moving, and she instantly knew it was bone. His bones were moving inside of him, finding their rightful places. Ginny had broken her arm once, but it was only set and healed with a one-hour potion. It didn't really hurt at all, except that one moment when the doctor set her bone again. That had been an excruciating experience. If she was struck by lightning, it must have felt something like that. White hot pain lanced through her arm, traveling all the way down to her toes. It was over in an instant, but still ranked among the worst that she'd ever felt. She shuddered to think that Harry was being continually subjected to that feeling.
Guilt weighed heavily on her as she pulled the covers over her head. Anything to hide her face from the Boy who Lived. She couldn't watch him anymore. She could hear his even breathing, every so often his arm would twitch and rustle against the crisp linen sheets, but he never once cried out in pain. He was incredible.
It was more than an hour before she fell back to sleep, but this time her dreams were filled with images of Harry smiling down at her.