Disclaimer: Still not mine. Blast.

ooOOoo

Chapter 15: Old Magic, New Scars

Cross from a fruitless Saturday afternoon in the library with Hermione, Harry headed out of the castle. Things would have gone much better, he expected, if they'd had Draco and his gloves. Draco (and his gloves) were meant to have met them there. But Draco (and his gloves) did not.

Harry decided to go and search out Draco. And his bloody gloves.

Draco and his gloves were out at the paddock. So were Trudi and Luna and, strangely, Ginny Weasley. "What's going on?" Harry murmured to Trudi. Draco, gloves peeking out the top of one of his pockets, had his bare hands spread on the left side of Simon's neck. Luna was holding the headcollar, a hand on each side of the horse's nose. Ginny had her wand out.

Trudi held up one finger to her mouth. "Weasley's using Old Magic," she whispered. She seemed to be getting over her shyness with Harry, treating him with a mixture of suspicion (which was turning into the slightly condescending 'go on, prove it' attitude she must have picked up from Malfoy) and guarded pleasure to see him. She'd even cautiously asked his opinion on a few things and, as Harry had given plain, honest answers, patiently explaining any details that were beyond her first-year schooling, she was becoming more relaxed.

All things considered, dealing with Slytherins was remarkably like dealing with Simon.

And Simon, who'd been so skittish and mistrustful in those first few days, had calmed down now to an amazing degree. Well, apart from the gallop through Hogwarts, of course. But he'd been provoked. It was almost as if the horse was two different animals: one, the angry, frightened stallion who'd nearly killed Draco in the pen behind the barn (and had killed a vrikolaki), and the other this old nag who slept twenty-three hours of the day. Harry hadn't known it was possible for any animal other than Crookshanks to snooze as much as this horse did. It was as if something deep inside him had switched itself off and now Simon was just cruising through the days like he was on equine holiday.

Maybe he was. Maybe he was just a fast learner for what was dangerous and what wasn't. After removing the flash from his camera, Colin had been allowed to take some more photos and Simon had stood for them with nothing more than his standard "What the hell do you think you're doing now?" glare of distrust. Whatever it was, Harry found it much easier to deal with a placid pet than a raging maniac who wanted nothing more than to wipe out the rest of creation with his teeth and hooves.

He already had Voldemort for that, although admittedly without the hooves. Teeth was probably an option. One never knew with Dark Lords.

Right now Simon didn't look happy or particularly placid, but at least he was standing still. The swish of his tail suggested his patience was running thin, though. Given the right provocation that raging stallion would wake up one day, Harry didn't doubt it.

"Found it," muttered Draco. His pale face was flushed and although there was a late spring chill in the air he was sweating. Simon tried to shake his head out of Luna's grip. "Hold him still," Draco snapped.

Luna nodded, not taking offence, although Ginny frowned.

"Are you ready, Weasley?" Draco said.

"For something I don't understand? I guess."

Draco spared a brief second for a grin. "Good as it gets. Okay… here it comes… get it now!"

Something sickly yellow bloomed between his spread fingers. It seemed to be seeping up from under the horse's skin. It writhed angrily. Luna took a tighter hold on Simon's headcollar. "Steady," she whispered.

Harry moved in closer and rested a hand on Simon's back in an effort to calm the horse, who was raising a back leg like he wanted to kick something. The hoof stamped on the ground again; Simon was angry but not yet at the point where he'd take it out on someone.

Harry hoped.

"Get it, get it, get it…" Draco was muttering, sweat pouring down his face.

Ginny pointed her wand. Her face froze in indecision.

"Just say something!" Draco ordered.

Ginny glared at him then flicked her wand. "Get out," she hissed.

Harry understood her as if she were speaking Parseltongue: it was words but not in English. Or Latin. It was the pure language of magic.

The oily yellow wrongness under Draco's hands writhed and screamed silently as the spell hit it. It tried to burrow back under the horse's skin but Draco's fingers snared it as Ginny said, more strongly, "Get out!" in a harsh voice which raised all the hairs down Harry's neck.

The light imploded.

"It's gone." Draco rested his forehead against Simon's neck. "Well done, Weasley."

"Yeah. Thanks," Ginny croaked. She rubbed at her throat and rested a hand on Draco's shoulder as Simon shook his head and pushed Luna and Draco back. Luna was grinning and rubbing Simon's nose. The horse shook his head again, experimentally, then heaved a huge sigh and scratched his ears on Luna's shoulder.

"One down, three to go," she said.

Draco and Ginny groaned.

Harry gave Simon a last pat. "What's going on?"

"Old curses," Ginny said, and coughed. It seemed to clear her throat, and she went on in a more normal voice, "This horse seems to have got caught in the crossfire of some nasty spells when the Death Eaters broke through earlier this month. Malfoy's found at least four spells that are dug deep into its body. We've just destroyed the most complete one – any idea what it was?" she asked Luna and Draco.

Luna shook her head, still stroking Simon's nose, but Draco said, "It was a sort of revolting yellow, didn't you say? It sounds like one of the metamorphic curse family. They're used to incapacitate someone by turning them into a pile of protoplasm until the spell is reversed. But they have to be fine-tuned; you have to know a lot about the target, their blood-lines and probably what they had for lunch… so they're not used often. I'm surprised one was used at all. I'm not surprised it didn't work on Simon since he's a horse, but it must have still been causing him some pain, stuck in his throat like that. Poor old boy," he added, ruffling the mane fondly.

Harry was surprised – it was the first time he'd seen Draco express such genuine affection for something. Possessiveness didn't count. Then something else jogged at his memory and Harry frowned, remembering. "Hmm. I think I accidentally elbowed him there the other day when we were getting you back after the tree beat you up. No wonder he gave me a nip. And the others?"

"The usual. Miscasts, deflections, ricochets… what you'd expect to see in someone involved in a battle. I'm surprised by the amount, though. Luna and I managed to lift most of them, but the last four needed special magic. Two are still buried in internal organs and one is sitting in his spine. It hasn't been activated, thank God. Those three are all splintered off spells on the Ministry's not-to-do list and Hogwarts doesn't have much information on them. Certainly not on the effects on a horse."

"Special magic?" asked Harry. "Trudi" – he nodded towards the girl, who blushed and pretended to be a fence post – "said you were using Old Magic."

"Stone deep magic," Luna said, nodding.

"Me, apparently," Ginny said, shrugging bemusedly. "I hadn't heard anything about it until Luna talked to me last night. She thought I should help out."

Draco opened his mouth to say something then apparently thought better of what he wanted to say. "Seventh child of a seventh child," Draco supplied with careful politeness instead. "I knew you had a big family, Weasley, but I didn't realise how big. I would have thought someone would have mentioned it to you before this."

Ginny shrugged again. She'd dropped her hand off Draco's shoulder as soon as she was sure Simon wouldn't knock him over. Maybe it had something to do with the filthy look Trudi had given her. Probably it was because Draco was still Malfoy, and this was perhaps the first time they'd talked without anyone sneering or getting angry.

Draco had looked exhausted, but was recovering quickly. "Ready for the next one?"

"I think I've got the hang of it now, yes."

"Good. I don't want my horse crippled."

Ginny's mouth tightened. "Do you think I'd –"

Draco waved a hand airily. "Of course not. I'm just letting you know what's at risk."

"I know the risks, thank you."

"Good. Let's get on with it."

Harry moved to Simon's other side while Luna took up her death-grip on Simon's headcollar again. Draco found the shard of spell again quickly – Harry might have thought it was thanks to the gloves except that Draco wasn't wearing them. This was raw magic. This spell, when it rose from a point which, in a human, would have been the small of the back, gleamed like an emerald. It might have been pretty against the black hide, but the ugly snarl of determination Draco wore told him that in nature it was foul. Simon snorted and sidled away from Ginny when she raised her wand.

This time when she spoke, her hoarse voice did more than raise the hairs on Harry's neck; there was a sharp crack. One of the nearby lichen-clad rocks poking out of the hillside cracked, shedding a slab of grey stone.

The spell shattered, sending out malicious little sparks which tried to tangle in everyone's hair, but Ginny circled her wand over her head and snarled something in this ur-language that evaporated the sparks before they could dig down into anyone's skin. Harry had a couple of little red spots on his cheek, and Draco was brushing at his wrist where a spark had landed and stung him, but otherwise they were fine. Simon was sweating a bit, as were Draco and Ginny.

ooOOoo

They took a break before tackling the last spell. Everyone, including Simon, looked relieved. The third spell had been particularly nasty – tentacles of black energy burrowing into the chests of the young witches and wizards as it sought a new home outside of Simon's heart. Simon had groaned an almost human sound of pain, but not moved from Luna's tight embrace of his head. Ginny's voice had risen into a shriek as inhuman as Simon's groan had been human and the black tentacles had turned into a swarm of buzzing insects that evaporated in the sunlight.

Harry rubbed at his chest. Merlin – it felt as if someone had tried to suck all joy out of the world. "What was it, Dementor magic? Was… was that hurting Simon?"

"Not Dementor magic… Well, it's related, I guess. It was sleeping in Simon but I guess we activated it again… Glad it wasn't the real spell. It's hard to counter that." Draco was just as pale as Ginny, whose freckles were standing out stark as flecks of old blood on snow. "Something that leaves a fragment that strong must have been cast by the Dark Lord himself." Draco shivered. He must have been tired to have allowed himself to show that much. Harry noticed Ginny noticing but when she raised a questioning eyebrow at him he avoided her gaze.

"What about the last one? Should we take precautions?"

"Our precaution is Ginny Weasley, who should have been registered as a sorceress at birth," Draco snarled. "These things aren't logical, especially when they've been filtered through a horse with its own brand of edge-magic."

The last spell-fragment was lodged deep in Simon's body, flickering along nerves and playing peek-a-boo with Draco when he tried to find it. He'd tried again with the gloves, but found they weren't any more use and, rather than dirty them with drying horse sweat, he'd gone back to using his bare hands. Ginny and Draco were currently both exhausted and snappish with it. Harry had the twin jobs of calming Simon and stopping World War III breaking out between Draco and Ginny.

Luna was the calmest of them.

But even she must have known things were only going to deteriorate when Hermione and Neville came walking up the hill. Or maybe the sharper look to her normally unfocussed expression was from the argument she'd had the other night with Hermione. Harry wasn't sure what it was about, only that Ginny Weasley and bloodlines were involved and, well, Hermione didn't like people telling her that she couldn't do certain things because she was Muggle-born.

Luna had been scornful in that absent-minded way she had, as if Hermione's arguments weren't important enough for her to counter.

Maybe after that Hermione hadn't been the best person for Harry to ask for help with his Charms essay, especially as he'd run out on her earlier while she was wading through Murgatroyd the Elder to talk to Flitwick. She'd snapped at him to go bother someone with a better pedigree. And just earlier this afternoon their research had had that stiff politeness to it Harry normally associated with his dealings with Draco.

Now, by the resigned look in her eyes, Harry guessed what she was here for even before she opened her mouth.

"It's okay," he said, going over to meet her and Neville by the gate. No point in inviting trouble into the paddock.

Hermione looked fleetingly cross at her apology being headed off, then one corner of her mouth quirked up. "Silly of me thinking a sorceress could be anything other than a seventh child of a seventh child… but it was just the way " – she leaned her head meaningfully towards Luna – "it was explained to me. But how do you know I'm not expecting an apology from you for leaving me alone doing research?"

Harry waggled his fingers. "Magic."

"Ooo. Scary."

Neville, who'd not been raised by Muggles, looked perplexed.

"Hi, Nev," said Harry. "What are you doing out this way?"

"Just curious. There's nothing much to do today… strangely enough there aren't any Hogsmeade trips planned. You'd think there was trouble with Death Eaters the way things are." Even Neville was developing sarcasm these days. "Thought I'd come up here to Squirrel Hill with Hermione to see what was going on."

"Squirrel Hill? I didn't know it had a name." Harry didn't miss the glance Neville threw at Ginny, and the narrower stare he levelled at Draco. Then Neville's suspicious look turned to one of mild alarm. "Is that thing going to stand on Ginny?"

Simon was shifting uneasily. Ginny stepped back, while Luna tried to soothe the horse. Draco, without his gloves, seemed unsure of what to do. Harry frowned. "Luna, is he…?"

The previously calm Simon, who had stood as steadily as anyone could hope for throughout the spell liftings, was growing rockier by the second.

Luna panted as she tried to keep the horse in one place. Simon tossed his head and snorted. "Ouch… Steady, Simon… Steady there… I don't think he likes Hermione."

"Rubbish," snorted Draco. "He's seen her before. I bet it's Longbottom. I know I heard his voice… Simon's a clever horse. Maybe he's a psychic horse and knows Longbottom's come to blow him up."

Luna settled Simon at last, but Simon twitched his ears, bounced a little, and blew anxiously. Harry didn't want to believe Draco's words had anything in them other than their usual nastiness, but by the way Simon was eyeing Neville he couldn't help thinking there was some truth in them.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Ginny, pushing her hair, which was lank with drying sweat, out of her face. Her voice was still hoarse. "What's your problem with him, anyway?"

"His utter lack of charisma," Draco sneered. "It's so bad he's got charisn'tma."

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry said.

"Why? Oh, because Harry Potter, the wizarding world's Messiah, says so."

Harry didn't miss the way Trudi took up a stand near Draco. Between her wand, Draco's mouth, and Simon's teeth things could get ugly. "No. Because Simon's twitchy and I've never known to you volunteer for pain. Oh well. It's your enterprise… I'll just step back."

Draco seemed to realise Simon was standing right next to him. "How is he, Luna?"

Luna raised her pale eyebrows at Harry. "He's in his jagermeister mood. Something's been hurting him and now he's ready to hunt out the source."

"Oh." Draco shot what would have been a filthy look at Neville had he been able to see him, but shut up. To everyone's relief. Between him and Ginny and Simon, the three looked completely wrung-out and ready to attack rather than seek a peaceful solution. Jagermeister mood, Luna had said. Looking at the faint gleam of malevolence deep in Simon's dark eyes, Harry realised she was completely right. He'd been wondering about the placid horse turning into the raging stallion and now he saw how close to the surface that wild animal was. Right now Draco might get more than a nip for bad behaviour. Luckily Draco agreed. "Right you are, chief.

"Well," Draco continued as politely as he could muster to Ginny, "ready for the last one?"

"Reddy Teddy."

"Fine. Let's go. But by the way, Longbottom, broadcast news: Simon is a horse, not a 'thing.' Go join the Death Eaters if you want to start calling my horse a 'thing'."

Wisely, Neville made no reply. Ginny gave him a quick smile, and he blushed pink. Luckily for him she couldn't have noticed: all her attention was back on Draco and Simon.

This time the spell seemed to be sucked out from all through Simon's body. Gradually it formed under Draco's fingers, becoming an almost solid shape of energy, a spinning rhombus gently turning on one axis then another as Draco tried to grasp the slippery light. Something deep in its depths tried to snare the eye and drag attention down, down into its curdling dimensions. Harry, who was standing on the opposite side of Simon to Draco, stood up on tiptoes to see over the dip in the horse's back as Draco, who was standing just aft of the shoulder, biting his pale lip as he concentrated, hissed in pain, "Hurry, Weasley."

"It's not all out yet," she replied. She was hissing, too, the words of a spell Harry wondered if she truly understood. It certainly didn't sound like anything he'd heard on the curriculum. Then the spinning magic, which had been mirroring the greens and greys of the hillside, took on a darker, angrier tint. The swirling bewitchment in its core snarled in on itself as if enraged at being denied prey. Simon lowered his head and his back stiffened with pain but he didn't move. Harry stroked his palms along the horse's shoulder as the hide, which had been prickly with dried sweat, became slick again. It trembled.

Draco yelped. "Careful, Weasley…"

"Sorry… don't know why that happened…"

Harry saw a crackle of magic arc from Ginny's fingers to halo Draco's head, lifting his hair and sparking in his eyes. "It's Simon you're meant to be working on, not me!"

"He won't stand still much longer," Luna said calmly. Harry glanced at her. She sounded cooler than she looked; her pale, almost translucent eyebrows were drawn together and her normal dreaminess had evaporated: Harry had never seen her so focussed as now, holding Simon's head tight in her arms, her white-knuckled fingers grasping the cheek pieces of the headcollar.

The long muscles along Simon's back were rigid. Harry had the unpleasant sense he was standing next to a Muggle bomb and the last few seconds were ticking down on the clock. Five… four… three… two…

"Got it." Ginny snarled something unhuman and there were three sharp cracks. Something stung Harry's cheek. With the third crack, the spell was gone.

The taut muscles along Simon's back quivered once and then softened. The horse let out a huge, shuddering sigh. Harry patted him on the shoulder. "Well done," he said, not sure if he was saying it to Simon, Draco, Ginny, Luna or himself. All of them, he guessed. Something tickled his cheek. He brushed it with his hand. His fingers came away red.

"I'll get that," said Luna. She took her wand out from behind her ear and flicked it in front of Harry's face before he could object. "It must have been a bit of the stone that cracked when Ginny pulled the magic out of it."

Harry looked around. Yes. Two more boulders were broken. The first was cut cleanly through like the earlier one, but the second was shattered. Trudi was standing next to Draco with a handkerchief against his arm, whispering to him. Apparently Harry wasn't the only one to have been hit by a piece of rock. Luna was checking Simon with her wand. Swish and flick, swish and flick… two chips were taken out of his side and a back leg. Luckily Simon hadn't kicked out when he was stung. Then Luna murmured a soft spell and the sharp pieces of stone from the shattered boulder sifted down into the grass as a soft powder and an unpleasant mineral smell.

Ginny, bending over with her hands braced on her knees, said, "There's still that charm to –"

"That stays," Luna said firmly.

"What charm?" said Harry, growing annoyed by how they kept bypassing him with decisions for Simon.

"There's a charm in his chest," Draco said. "I tried to pull it out but Simon bit me. Luna reckons it's not harmful, but…"

"It's only harmful when people try to pull it out," Luna said primly, carding her fingers through Simon's forelock to straighten it. "Then they get bitten."

Ginny shook her head. "Malfoy was the one who got bitten. I was the one who took the hint and left it alone."

"I wish he'd let me have a better look at it," Draco muttered.

"If wishes were horses there would be more Simons," Luna said, the normal dreamy expression back on her face as if it had never left.

Draco's face held a mixture of bewilderment, amusement and annoyance. "What?"

"I'm going to walk him around for a bit," said Luna happily.

"You do that."

Simon had other priorities: first he shook himself all over like a dog then, like an extremely cautious dog, he lifted one back foot to scratch his neck where the yellow curse had been. He did this carefully – Harry couldn't blame him. That iron-shod foot would brain Simon if he kicked himself in the head with it. That done, he was content for Luna to lead him off around the perimeter of the paddock. Draco made as if to follow, but then gripped Trudi's shoulder. As she whispered a question, he shook his head. She led him back to the fenceline where Draco leaned against the rails.

"Ginny? You okay?"

She rubbed her throat. "Yeah," she husked. "Come on."

Harry paused a moment, staring at Luna and Simon. Luna was talking to the horse in a low, urgent whisper. She seemed to be trying to tell him something. Or asking.

Was Simon standing on her foot again?

No. Luna wasn't as agitated as someone with a horse on their foot would be. Simon took the opportunity to put his head down and eat some of the hay Hagrid had been leaving for him. Luna shook her head and tugged the leadrope until Simon followed. Her shoulders drooped as if she were disappointed. But with what? Ginny and Draco had performed a miracle, getting those hexes removed.

Just outside the gate Hermione had conjured several Chesterfield sofas, which were as comfortable as they looked as Harry found out when he sank into one with a sigh of relief. Ginny took a seat next to Neville. Trudi led Draco to another, glaring at Hermione as if she would object to a Slytherin using something she'd made.

Hermione was getting used to Trudi too, and ignored the girl. "Neville knows something about mistletoe," she said without preamble.

Even Draco looked interested. "Do you know if it grows around here?"

Neville shook his head. "It's not meant to. It prefers warmer climates. And the fruiting season is finished, anyway. It's the berries which are most useful."

"Any in storage?" Draco asked.

"It wouldn't be much use. Hermione told me what you were working on… Don't worry, I gave her my word I wouldn't pass it on," he added hastily before Draco's angry expression could manifest in words. "But I think you might be looking for a special variety. Not the one Muggles grow."

"I thought that would have been obvious."

"Not when wizards use the Muggle variety in potions."

"So it does have edge-magic."

"Yes," said Hermione. "Like horses," she added with a smile. "I looked that up after I heard about Simon being so relaxed at being levitated."

"Do you think a wizard owned him?" asked Trudi, after an anxious glance at Draco. Draco looked unhappy at the idea. Probably because a wizard would have more luck getting him back. Despite his assertion to consider the future for several generations, sometimes Harry wondered just how far Draco did think ahead. Did Draco really think he'd be allowed to keep Simon? Even if the real owner didn't step forward there was a good chance he'd have to fight Luna for him. Maybe even Harry, although Harry was more pragmatic about the likelihood of having a pet horse. He didn't like the idea of giving up Simon, but he had to admit to the fact that it was going to happen. But Draco was oddly attached to the horse. Harry doubted Draco had ever experienced the emotion of love – or, at least, not the love Harry had for his friends and godfather, but Draco's possessiveness seemed to be along those same lines.

"Maybe," Draco was saying. "There's that charm in his chest. We don't know where that came from, but it feels old. Older than the hexes we took out, anyway. But not necessarily. Borderline creatures and plants can react in surprising ways, and according to Geerhard Strom in Tails of the Wild and Wyrd they've been known to spontaneously generate their own charms and spells. Which explains cats."

"And horses," added Harry with a grin.

"And toads," said Neville. "Trevor's taken to hopping through closed doors and bringing me things. Maybe he wants to be a magpie."

"Did he bring you my pewter hairpin?" Ginny asked.

"Um. Is that yours? Sorry. You aren't missing an enamel morning-glory brooch, are you?"

"Yes, but it's terribly ugly and I didn't mind losing it."

"Didn't Ron give you that brooch?" asked Hermione with a smile.

"Don't tell him what I said. That goes double for you, Malfoy," she added without rancour.

Draco threw up his hands. "I'm not arguing with a sorceress!"

"Really? So there are side benefits to growing up with hand-me-downs from your brothers and cousins…"

ooOOoo

Neville told them what he knew about mistletoe, which wasn't much that Hermione hadn't already found in Murgatroyd the Elder's book. But he did say he'd been keeping an eye on a couple of oaks around the grounds which held magical mistletoe. He couldn't remember if they were fruiting or not – he doubted they would be in May, but it was worth checking and promised to do so. Ginny said she'd help. Neville blushed and stammered that that would be, um, nice. Draco even offered to help with his gloves, but Neville hurriedly said that he'd be fine. Draco smirked but didn't press. Harry guessed even Draco couldn't have missed Neville's wanting to go for a walk with Ginny without a chaperone. Hermione said that she needed some help with her reading, anyway, and it cut down on wasted time having Draco help. She'd tried using the gloves herself, but Draco had the knack with them that she lacked.

Draco had a few ideas he wanted to look at too, and promised to meet up with Hermione in the library after dinner. And after he'd taken something to counter a massive headache. He was curious about something to do with metallurgy, Harry understood, but Harry wasn't sure how it was going to help. Unless…

"Any thoughts on the Golden Sickle?" he asked. "Have you heard of any spells to locate it, or if we could make our own?"

"I thought about making another one," said Draco, quite seriously, "but you need Celtic or pre-Celtic gold. And all the gold has been mined out of Britain… either by Muggles, wizards, or goblins. I thought there might be an old burial site nearby – Muggles often buried their leaders with gold, but if there is the gloves can't locate it. I thought about melting Galleons but they've got spells on them to stop tampering and any British gold is probably diluted by resmelting with other sources anyway. If anyone has a couple of pounds of verified gold sourced from the Isles, I'd be pleased to hear about it. All mine is in my vault, I'm afraid. It's a bit hard to get to at the moment."

ooOOoo