Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter.
A big thank you to my reviewers! You don't know how much all your comments make my day! I can't apologize enough for neglecting this story for so long, and I am so happy to be continuing it!
Also, I received more condolences for the loss of my brother, and I just want to say thank you very much. It means a lot that people care, even if I don't know them personally.
Okay, here's the next chapter! Please don't kill me at the end, because there's a reason for everything I do!
Chapter 56: Attack
As the days passed, Sirius and Remus continued to look after Harry. Unfortunately, his case of the wizarding flu was a really bad one, and the fever didn't seem to want to go away. As more time passed both guardians grew extremely worried. This didn't happen often, but if someone with this illness was sick for long enough with no signs of recovery, they needed to be taken to St. Mungo's for further treatment. SIRIUS and Remus sincerely hoped that this didn't happen to Harry.
But during this time, Harry did have things to try to lift his spirits. Arthur Weasley had been fiddling with a Muggle tape player, and he gave it to Sirius and Remus, along with some tapes. When Harry felt up to it, he listened to them while he was lying in bed. He was often too weak to work the player himself, so Sirius and Remus did it for him; both of them were familiar with the Muggle instrument. Harry was thrilled with this, and told his guardians to thank Mr. Weasley when they got the opportunity.
True to the word of the medical texts, Harry's wizarding flu had a symptom that caused erratic spurts of emotion to shoot out of him every once in a while. Sometimes, it was a piece of music that did it to him, or sometimes it would just happen for no apparent reason. Harry would get angry or burst out in tears, and it was up to Sirius and Remus to help him through these times. Harry was often embarrassed after the fact, but the two men just chuckled and told him not to be silly. "The great Sirius Black can fix anything," Sirius would tease him gently, and he'd ruffle Harry's hair like always.
If Harry needed either man for anything, he'd use the mirror, which was on his bedside table. Sirius always made sure to have the other one on him, and this came in awfully handy. Harry was glad to have such a good way of calling his guardians if he needed them.
On the fifth day, Harry still wasn't getting any better. His fever was still high, and Sirius and Remus were getting extremely worried. They surmised that if Harry wasn't any better by the morning, they'd take him to St. Mungo's.
"I don't like this at all," Sirius said with a weary sigh at 9:00 that evening, dropping onto the couch in the living room. "Poor Harry, this is the last thing he needs. And the last thing we want is the press hounding all over him; having Harry Potter in St. Mungo's will grab their attention, I'm sure." He snorted in disgust.
"I know," Remus answered heavily. "Why does everything have to happen to him?"
"Sirius?" Harry's choked voice from the mirror in Sirius's pocket interrupted their conversation.
"I'm coming, kiddo," Sirius answered at once, and he and Remus hurried pronto up the stairs.
Harry was lying in his bed, his sweaty bangs sticking to his forehead. His emerald eyes were glazed with fever and his hands were shaking. "What do you need, kiddo?" Sirius asked gently.
"I'm just sick of this," said Harry, not being able to hide the tears in his voice. The two men immediately knew that another bout of uninhibited emotion had come on. They ran to Harry's side, and Sirius took the trembling boy into his arms. Harry buried his face in his robes, his tears soaking them and his body racked with sobs.
"Shhhhh, Harry, it's all right," Sirius soothed, and he rocked Harry tenderly back and forth.
"Cedric," Harry said sadly. "I had another nightmare about Cedric. ..."
Neither Sirius nor Remus knew what to say to comfort the boy in his time of need, so they simply stayed with him, letting him cry. The tears ran thick and fast down Harry's face, and the more his guardians stroked his hair and comforted him, the faster they came. It was like a volcano had erupted inside him, releasing any pent-up emotions from the last few months.
Eventually, his sobbing stopped, and Harry went limp in Sirius's arms. His emerald eyes were closed and his breathing was slow, deep, and even. Remus and Sirius sighed, knowing the boy was asleep and wanting to keep him that way; they desperately wanted him to have some peace. They felt such fatherly affection for their adopted son, and wanted no more harm to come to him. They just wished they could keep him safe in their little cocoon of love.
Harry moaned in his sleep, trying to get himself into a more comfortable position. Remus checked Harry's temperature and said grimly, "It's not looking good. He's got a raging fever. One of us needs to contact Albus, to forewarn him that a trip to St. Mungo's may be in order. I'll do it."
Sirius continued to gently rock his sleeping and sweating godson as Remus made the necessary floo call to Dumbledore. Moments later he returned and said, "Albus is aware of the situation. We'll contact him again in the morning and let him know the outcome."
"Cedric," Harry breathed in agony. "No, Voldemort, please, I'm begging you ... he didn't do anything! Leave him alone!" The pain in his voice was unbearable. "No, Voldemort, please!"
He went quiet then, and something in his face changed. As Sirius and Remus watched in alarm, he began to twist in the former's arms, letting out the most heartrending screams. They tried to wake him, but it was to no avail. They grew more alarmed as they shook him and shook him, trying to rouse him from whatever horrendous nightmare he was currently suffering.
Suddenly, Harry bolted straight up. He turned white as a sheet, and threw up all over himself.
"Harry!" Sirius cried frantically. "Harry, pup, what's wrong?"
"Mr. ... Weasley," Harry panted. "Snake ... Voldemort ... Mr. Weasley!"
A horrible feeling of dread swept over the two men. "Slow down, cub," Remus tried to keep his voice soft, soothing, and gentle. Sirius lifted his wand, performing a cleaning charm on Harry to remove the sick. "What about Arthur Weasley?"
Harry took several deep breaths, but his heart was racing a mile a minute. "Voldemort's snake ... attacked Mr. Weasley!" he burst out. "Someone ... needs ... to help him!"
"Oh, Merlin!" Sirius exclaimed in horror. "How do you know?"
"I saw it!" Harry cried chaotically. "I ... I was the snake! I saw it through his eyes! Someone needs to help him!"
"I'll contact Albus at once," Remus said, immediately going into logical problem-solving mode. "Arthur did have guard duty tonight. Sirius, you get Harry ready. We're taking him to St. Mungo's right now."
For that was the decision that was made immediately as Remus studied Harry's pallor. It was no use waiting till morning; Harry needed treatment at the wizarding hospital, because he was not getting better on his own.
Harry breathed sharply. "Never mind me, we need to take care of Mr. Weasley!" he hollered, trying to get out of bed.
"Pup, Remus is taking care of it. Mr. Weasley will be fine," Sirius tried to assure the sweating and shaking boy. "We need to get you to hospital, you're not well. Oh Merlin, your scar is bleeding!" he exclaimed as his eyes landed on the red lightning-bolt scar that was on Harry's forehead. He immediately got up, went to the bathroom, and retrieved the wet washcloth he and Remus had used so often over the past few days to wipe Harry's flushed face.
"Oh God," Harry moaned, covering his aching eyes with his hands as Sirius gently wiped the blood that was dripping into Harry's eyes. "I've killed Mr. Weasley ... I've killed him!"
"Harry, listen to me," Sirius said, his stomach knotting. Harry didn't need to deal with this on top of everything else! "We don't even know if the vision you had was true. And if it was, Mr. Weasley may be able to be saved. And you didn't leave your bed, kiddo. If it was anything that hurt Mr. Weasley, it was Voldemort's snake."
"But Mr. Weasley was only at the Ministry because of me!" Harry cried, tears filling his green eyes. "First Cedric and now him! Who will be next?" His shoulders began to shake in earnest as Sirius began to pack a bag, preparing for the trip to St. Mungo's. As soon as that was done, Sirius sat on the bed beside Harry, once again taking him into his arms and letting the boy sob against him. "You don't understand!" he wailed. "It was horrible ... I WANTED to attack him! I'm a horrible, horrible person!"
"No, you're not," Sirius whispered, heartbroken. "Those feelings you felt, they were all Voldemort. Everything you experienced was from Voldemort's mind, kiddo, not yours."
It was true that Harry had been continuing to work on Occlumency, but when the immune system and the body were weak like this, the mind was, too. His shields were vulnerable right now, so whatever progress he had made was a moot point. Everything always had to happen at the worst times.
Remus then came hurrying back into the room. "Albus is handling everything," he said softly. "He just informed me that Arthur Weasley has been found severely injured. He's being taken to St. Mungo's as we speak. The Weasley children will be informed, and they'll be taken to Grimmauld Place for safety. Molly will also go to St. Mungo's."
Sirius nodded while Harry shook harder. "Oh Merlin, it was real. Is he dead?" he asked shakily.
"He's alive, cub," Remus said tenderly. "And the hospital will do all they can to take care of him. We have to leave it in their hands now. Now we have to think about getting you well."
Sirius lifted Harry up into his arms and covered him with a blanket. He was as hot as anything and was still shaking violently. He and Remus walked downstairs and out the front door, crossing to the boundary and apparating to the wizarding hospital.
Once they made it there, they checked in at the reception area. They then were quickly transferred to the Wizarding Illnesses floor very efficiently. The appearance of Harry's two concerned guardians, and the way they glared at anyone who tried to ask a lot of questions concerning Harry's celebrity status, kept people away. Sirius and Remus had to admit that they were very impressed with the speedy way things were done here. The healers were extremely kind to Harry and handled him with great care. He was put gently in a bed, and was given a fever-reducing potion along with others that would try to help him get well again.
Sirius and Remus pulled up two chairs and sat by Harry's bed, taking one of his hands in one of their own. They vowed not to leave his side, and told themselves that whatever happened with Arthur Weasley, they'd help Harry through it. But they prayed with every fiber of their being that the patriarch of the Weasley family would be all right.
The two men had always been fond of the Weasleys. They had both known Bill when he was much younger, when he'd told them about his prankster brothers Fred and George. They could remember very well when James had told him about the Marauders' Map being located in Filch's office. "Tell your brothers to find it sometime," the hazel-eyed man had said with a mischievous grin on his face.
Thinking of James, though, unfortunately led to thoughts of the First War. It was beginning to start again. The first casualty of the Second War had been Cedric Diggory, and there would be many more; the two men just knew it. They always tried to put on a show of bravado in front of Harry, but they couldn't help but admit now, as Harry lay sleeping soundly, that they were afraid as hell. How were they going to keep everyone in their circle intact, especially Harry? It was Harry's job to defeat Voldemort, and they couldn't bear that. The boy was only fifteen years old! How could he possibly go up against the darkest wizard of the age and win? The thought was preposterous. It wasn't that they doubted Harry was a powerful wizard, but they knew what Lord Voldemort possessed. After all, they had lost pretty much all of their friends during the First War, and their friends had been powerful witches and wizards.
Sirius and Remus's thoughts were interrupted as Albus Dumbledore somberly walked into the room, a sad expression on his face as he glanced at Harry. "How is the dear boy?" he asked quietly.
"He's sleeping," said Sirius at once. "Albus, what happened? Did Voldemort possess Harry?"
"I do not think he actually possessed him, no," Dumbledore answered. "I think what happened is that somehow, Voldemort's actions tonight were seen by Harry. Because his mind is vulnerable right now, Harry may have been able to slip into Voldemort's mind. The connection they have is very unique. When Voldemort tried to kill him all those years ago, it was forged."
"What can we do about this?" Remus asked urgently. "Harry says he was the snake who attacked Mr. Weasley. How on Earth can we explain to him that he wasn't the one who attacked him?"
"We are relying here on Harry's strength of character," replied Dumbledore softly. "You have already told me that you are making progress in convincing him that he is not to blame for Cedric Diggory's death. He shares a special bond with you two, and I think he knows you will always be there for him."
"But it's not fair," Sirius said desperately. "He's only fifteen! He shouldn't have to deal with this!"
"I know, Sirius, I know," Dumbledore said heavily. "It is not fair at all."
"How is Arthur, anyway, Albus?" asked Remus.
Dumbledore's expression grew solemn. "I am afraid he is seriously injured," he answered. "The snake venom is really affecting him. Fortunately, he is not in any pain, because he is unconscious. The children have been informed and are currently at Grimmauld Place for protection; Kingsley Shacklebolt is with them. Molly is by Arthur's side as we speak."
"Will he survive?" asked Sirius.
Dumbledore sighed. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just don't know."
The three men looked at each other, and all of them knew that it would be a long road ahead.
xxx
Harry continued to sleep for a few more hours. Healers came in every few minutes to check on him. Sirius and Remus were also vigilant, watching over their boy. Their hearts twisted as they heard Harry moan Cedric's and Mr. Weasley's names over and over again, tossing and turning in his fever-induced sleep.
Once, when one of the Healers checked Harry's temperature, Sirius asked, "How long do you think he'll be here, in St. Mungo's?"
"I cannot say for sure," the healer, who said her name was Marianne, answered. "I haven't seen a case of wizarding flu this bad in a long time. Usually, witches and wizards are able to fight it off on their own, but Mr. Potter's case is different. I assure you that we will do everything we can to keep the press away. We do not need them interrupting Harry's recovery. I'm afraid I can't give you a definite amount of time he will be here, I can only say it'll be as long as it takes for him to get better." She squeezed Harry's hand and smiled at him as she left.
"I hope for his sake that he's not still here for Christmas, but it looks like it'll be that way," Sirius said with a sigh. "Our poor pup. Merry Christmas, huh?" he added sarcastically.
"It is miserable for him," said Remus. "Luckily, the next full moon's not till next month. If it was coming up, the hospital wouldn't want me with Harry for the entire 24 hours before it. You know that's how the werewolf laws are when it comes to being with children in facilities like this."
"Yeah, they are ridiculous," growled Sirius. "And Dolores Umbridge has a lot to do with them."
"How Harry's able to deal with that woman without losing his temper, I don't know," Remus said, stroking Harry's hair. "He's different from James that way. James would have yelled at her until he was hoarse with it."
"I know," Sirius replied. "That he would."
At that moment, Harry opened his eyes. They were still glazed with fever, but they looked at Sirius and Remus and immediately filled with concern. "How's Mr. Weasley?" he asked at once, yawning.
"Not well, pup," Sirius had to respond gently, guilt tugging at his heart as he did so. "But the hospital's trying to help him. I'm sure he'll be fine."
"Please," Harry said barely audibly. "Please let him be fine. I couldn't bear it if he wasn't, and another death was my fault."
Footsteps could then be heard coming down the hall, and Dumbledore walked into the room again. He shared a look with Sirius and Remus, and a cold feeling gripped both of them. Harry didn't see the look, but a feeling in his gut told him that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
"Merlin," breathed Sirius, staring into Dumbledore's blue eyes, which were not twinkling. "You're joking."
Dumbledore sadly shook his head, indicating that no, he was not joking.
Sirius took one of Harry's hands while Remus took the other, and they both looked into Harry's emerald eyes. The look had a mixture of feelings in it: pain, guilt, love, tenderness, and heartache.
"No..." Harry said weakly, ice freezing every vein of his body. The truth, oh, God, the truth...''it settled upon him like a ton of bricks. There was no hiding it. No denying it. No escaping it.
Arthur Weasley had died.