6.

Daylight was breaking through the window in Hogwarts' infirmary. Slouched in an uncomfortable metal chair, Lily Potter kept her vigil as the morning light crept over the unconscious body of her son. He looked so old, she had remarked to Albus, and so tired.

Lily rubbed her eyes. Her sweet, 17 year-old boy had disappeared, leaving her with a worryingly different version of the son she had raised. Albus had been duly tight lipped about the entire thing thus far, but Lily couldn't help wonder. Sitting in the dark of the infirmary, her mind had begun to wind theories, each one more strange and bizarre than the last. As far fetched as it sounded, she had become convinced some sort of time travel incident had occurred. There was simply no other explanation she could comprehend. Her only hope was that this was not somehow connected to Voldemort. Lily wasn't delusion however; these days when something terrible happened, the Dark Lord was behind it.

And then there was Ron. The red-headed man was lying in the bed nearest to Harry's. He looked so far beyond awful that Lily couldn't fathom what he must have been though. The young man was clearly a hairsbreadth away from death. Even once he had been patched up, Madam Pomfrey had said she wasn't sure if he would last longer than a few days. Too weak to be moved, Ron was staying at Hogwarts rather than being flooed or taken by port key to St. Mungo's. Albus had just left to fire called the Weasley's; for the moment the headmaster would be sequestered up in his office awaiting their arrival. Madam Pomfrey stabilized the two boys and went into her office, saying she would fire call a friend from St. Mungo's for a consultation. Apparently there was a possibility of using a curse breaker to aid Ron's failing body. Lily heard the healer rather distantly. She was swimming in a fog of confusion and disturbing thoughts.

The steady hum and regular beeping of monitoring charms were the only noise on the ward as Lily sank deeper into her own mind.

Suddenly a cup of tea was thrust before her. Lily started and reached for her wand before realizing the tea was not an imminent threat to her son or her person. Years of vigilance and war had made even a school professor guarded. After a tense moment Lily gratefully accepted the tea and turned toward Severus Snape, who was conjuring a chair for himself. She hadn't heard him enter, but then, Severus was a man who had refined discretion to an art.

"I take it you haven't yet been able to contact him?" He asked in a low voice.

"No," Lily quietly replied, her hands beginning to rattle the cup and saucer. "I called the office. James went to Edinburgh to question a Death Eater with Sirius this afternoon. Neither of them have come back or checked in since midnight. I sent my Patronus, but so far. . ." Her voice trailed off as her eyes remained glued to the disheveled black hair in the bed. Her son being so mysteriously injured was horrid enough without her husband having vanished.

"Lily." Severus leaned forward and placed his hands on hers. Startled green eyes met solemn black ones. "We will sort this out. We will find James and Sirius. Harry will wake up and tell us what has happened and then we will find a way to fix whatever has been broken."

Lily's smile was tired, but genuine. "Thanks Sev. I think the hardest part is not knowing. I just wish he would wake up."

Her old friend leaned back and nodded. "Loathe as I am to have him up and about, strutting about the castle as though we should all be grateful for his mere presence, I'm sure your son will be fine. He's too thick-headed to allow me the relief of anything else."

Lily snorted. Trust Severus to know just what to say and then to follow it up with his usual sardonic humor. She was glad for his friendship, particularly in these troubling times. It had been touch and go between them in their later years at school, with Severus and James hating one another so viciously. She had thought her old friend lost to her forever as he seemingly sank deeper and deeper into the Dark Arts.

Harry's stirring interrupted her thoughts. His finger twitched suddenly and he issued a low moan. Lily stood, rushing over to her son.

"Harry," she murmured softly, placing a hand on his forehead to push back his long hair.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He jerked away from her touch and inhaled sharply. Lily hastily pulled her hand back as Harry began to push himself up by his arms. The bright green eyes darted around the room, taking in both his mother and Snape, who stood a few paces behind her, looking tense. He brought his eyes back to Lily.

"The others?" He croaked.

"It was only Ron with you," Lily said. "Are there more-" She cut off her question abruptly as Harry twisted his body around to survey the area behind him for the first time. His eyes settled on the man in the next bed.

In the next instant Harry threw the blanket off himself and went to stand. Still weak, his knees buckled and he hit the floor with a sharp crack. Lily hastily moved around the bed to help him but Harry had already crawled most of the way to his friend. It was only a moment and Harry was pulling himself up to Ron's bedside. He was still kneeling, his hands turning his friend's unconscious face toward him.

"What's wrong with him?" Harry's voice was still hoarse but held a definite tone of command.

Lily stopped short. Harry had never spoken with such authority, as though he were certain of their compliance. This was a man who was used to having other pay close attention to his words. Lily looked back at Severus. His face was impassive and he showed no sign of speaking up, so Lily answered.

"Madam Pomfrey is doing everything she can for him. He's been injured and-"

"I said what is wrong with him? Specifically." Harry's voice had become threatening as he interrupted. His eyes never left Ron's face. Lily was stunned. Her son had never spoken so coldly. It was the voice of a much older man.

Severus chose that moment speak up. "He is suffering from prolonged torture. When we found Mr. Weasley, he had compound fractures in both femurs. He has sustained third degree burns on 22 percent of his body. All the nails on his left hand were removed, as was his right ear. We believe he was the victim of several dark hexes and curses, including unforgivables, severe malnutrition, infection and sepsis. He lost a near fatal amount of blood from a deep neck wound, which seems to have severed both carotid arteries. He is in a magical coma. In short, he will most likely die sometime over the next seventy two hours."

Lily looked sharply back at Severus, who did not meet her glower, and then to the back to her son. He seemed impassive, as though the news his closest friend was dying was neither surprising nor particularly upsetting. Lily began to grow uneasy with Harry's apparent lack of emotion.

"Harry, if you would just-" Once again, Lily was startled into silence. She watched as, without warning, her wand flew into Harry's outstretched hand. He made a silent, sweeping, broad stroke. Lily and Severus flew back, pinned to the wall and unable to move. The sound of their cries drew Madam Pomfrey, but as she opened the door to her office Harry waved his hand again. The professors could hear her banging on the door. It was all over before either Severus or Lily had any chance to comprehend the decisive action, let alone attempt a counter attack.

"Silenco." Harry waved his hand again. As the two teachers watched in horrified silence, Harry wrenched himself up to his feet and staggered over to the nearest medical cabinet. He pulled drawers out, tossing them aside, and cleared shelves with a shaking sweep of his arm. Finally, Harry found a pair of metal tongs. He closed his fist around them and limped back to Ron. Severus watched as the boy steadied himself and closed his eyes. When he opened is fist a moment later, the tongs had become a sharp blade.

"La sangre para la vida. La sangre tira. La sangre tira. Soy el vaso sanguíneo. Tome mi sangre para él. La sangre tiara. La sangre para la vida . ." Harry began to chant. He continued the melodic chanting and both the professors could feel magic beginning to swirl around the young man.

Lily's eyes widened as Harry raised the knife and began to carve into his chest. With his back turned toward her, Lily couldn't see what her son was cutting, but large amounts of blood began to flow from his torso. Harry cupped it in his hands and quickly began to draw a series of complicated runes on Weasley's chest, using his own blood to paint. He continued to chant as he covered Ron from head to toe in intricately drawn patterns, leaning heavily on the bed. His voice became more and more feeble and Harry began to falter. Still, he continued on chanting until he swayed dangerously. He staggered to the bed behind him and crumpled, falling unconscious.

Lily and Severus watched in growing horror as Harry's blood began to pool around him and drip to the floor. At the very least, Lily thought wildly as she fought against the sticking charm, Harry wasn't dead yet; his spell had not failed. But it was getting weaker and Lily was panicking.

Severus had just managed to free a hand from the wall when the doors opened to reveal Dumbledore and the frantic Weasleys. Taking in the scene before him in a quick glance, Albus waved his wand, canceling the sticking charms and Silenceo Harry had cast. Madam Pomfrey threw open the door to her office as Lily and Severus regained their balance.

Molly raced to Ron. "What's happened to him?" She yelled, throwing herself over the body of her son. Lily ran toward Harry as Arthur moved behind his wife. Madam Pomfrey looked from one bloodied boy to the other before moving forward to check on Ron.

"What in Merlin's name happened here?" Arthur demanded.

"He used, 'La Sangre en la Sangre Fuera.'" Severus told the headmaster.

Albus' eyes widened. He swiftly pivoted and began to mutter a string of Spanish words over Harry's prone body. Snape moved to the battered medical cabinet where he managed to find one blood replenishing potion that hadn't been smashed. He quickly returned to Harry's bed and once again spelled the potion into the boy's stomach.

"Merlin!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed. "Headmaster, Mr. Weasley is improving!" She turned from her assessing spells to see the headmaster still muttering, moving his wand in complex circles. Finally, he stopped. With the headmaster's efforts ceased, so too did the oppressive feeling of heavy magic flowing throughout the room. Dumbledore quickly cleaned the blood from Harry's chest and levitated the boy's body to another bed. At once Lily began to heal the deep cuts on his chest. She noticed, as they faded, Harry's torso was covered in lines of fine, criss-crossing scars.

"I expect Mr. Weasley's condition has improved?" Dumbledore asked Madam Pomfrey as he sat heavily in the chair Lily had earlier occupied. For once, he sounded weary.

"Yes." Madam Pomfrey's voice was somewhat awestruck. "I'm not detecting any lingering residual from hexes or curses and the damage to his skin and hand is completely healed. It seems as though the degradation to his organs has not only stopped but reversed. We won't know for sure until he wakes but I believe Ronald will recover."

Mrs. Weasley let out a sob and began to clean the blood from her son.

"Headmaster, how. . . what has happened?" Arthur's voice was rather disbelieving. "You said Ron was as good as dead."

"It seems as though Mr. Potter cares more for Mr. Weasley's life than his own." Dumbledore replied. "The spell he used is classified as Dark, though its purpose is to restore health to a grievously injured person. The caster may give his own health and wellbeing to a chosen vessel, though the result is not merely a sharing of essence but a siphoning of it from one party to another. In this case," he gestured to Ron, "it appears as though Mr. Potter was willing to give his life for his friend. Only a wizard possessing the skill and precise knowledge could cancel the spell once enacted."

"He expected to die?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Yes." Dumbledore answered. "Though it is troubling Mr. Potter not only knew of this spell but was able to cast it. It is terribly obscure and one's conviction must be absolute for the transfer to be successful."

"It's not the first time he's used it," Lily's said softly. She ran her hand over her son's chest.

"He's carved himself up quite a bit," Severus remarked, leaning in. "I had noticed the scars earlier but not the pattern." He turned toward the headmaster. "He is stable now, but much weaker. You were able to stop the transfer before it killed him."

Tears were spilling from Lily's eyes. She wished desperately her husband was there to hold her. The situation with their son was rapidly deteriorating and Lily was at a loss as to how to proceed. She was good at solutions that came together over time, well thought out solutions and schemes required delicate refinement, like a good potion. James was the one who thought well on the fly. He had a strange way of finding solutions to seemingly impossible problems. He rushed headlong into danger, only to come out on the other side grinning. Lucky, Sirius said, but Lily had always thought it was more that James willed circumstances to accommodate him. He was a force unto himself. And as she sat covered in her son's blood, Lily thought they could really use some of that damned luck right about now.

XXXXX

At that very moment the man in question was growing increasingly annoyed.

James Potter was slouched on a bench, watching as Sirius Black paced back and forth in St. Bláán's. Admittedly, the most heavily warded wing of Edinburgh's magical hospital wasn't exactly the place either man wanted to be at four thirty in the morning.

James ran his hands through his hair for the fifth time in as many minutes. It wouldn't be so bad, being cooped up here, if not for the fact the wards prevented any messages, Patronus or otherwise, from entering or leaving the space. The high security ward was really rather inconvenient.

An orderly in bright red robes ducked out from a room and into the corridor.

"You're the aurorers, then? She's awake now, but she's fading in and out. Healer McDougal says you're not to upset her too greatly. You can have fifteen minutes."

James nodded and rose immediately as Sirius pushed past the young man. The two swept into the healing room. A young, heavily scarred woman lay on the white bed, her black hair fanned out around her like a terrible halo. She looked to be asleep.

The two men approached quietly.

"Miss?" Sirius asked in a soft voice. When he received no answer, he glanced at his partner. James shrugged and bent over to lightly touch her arm. The reaction was instant. Brown eyes flew open as James' wrist was encompassed by a thin hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

"Oh Harry, thank the Magic. I thought you hadn't made it." Her voice was faint and her hand relaxed as she looked at James. She reached up suddenly, pulling the stunned aura's face down to meet her lips.

James yanked himself away. His wide eyes met Sirius' as his friend's face broke into a grin. Clearly this girl was starkers. Though it occurred to James that she had said Harry. The mysterious girl might have been referring to his son. Though, James thought, she looked too old to be in Hogwarts.

"Miss, you're mistaken," James said firmly. "I am Auror James Potter and this is my partner, Auror Sirius Black. You are in St. Bláán's high security ward in Edinburgh. You were found several hours ago, severely injured. Do you recall what has happened to you?"

The brown eyes came sharply into focus, searching James face before darting to Sirius. Her lips parted, as though she were going to speak, before she clamped them shut. The two men looked at one another, wordless deciding between them a strategy to proceed.

"What's the year, then?" The girl asked suddenly.

"It's 1997." James replied slowly. She must have sustained a head injury, to not remember the year. The girl paled at his words, pursing her lips together in a grimace. It was a long moment before she spoke again. She seemed to be contemplating something.

"And I was the only one found?" She asked finally.

"Yes. It was just you. Are there others who were injured too?" James replied.

The girl sighed. "There were supposed to be three others. . . but if they're not here with me I'm not sure. . ." She trailed off, looking stricken. "Is Professor Dumbledore still alive?"

James and Sirius exchanged a panicked glance. "You think he's dead?" Sirius asked, the first words he had spoken thus far. "What do you know? Has something happened at Hogwarts?"

"Oh, no, I'm sorry. I must have been mistaken. Er. . . could I please speak with him? Since he's alive and well?" She seemed to be trying to cover up a sure slip. "It's urgent."

James decided it was time to regain control of this interview. "Look Miss, we are going to need you to answer a few questions before we go any further," he said. "Once we have things established we can contact your family, or anyone else you might need notified that you're here."

The girl sighed and leaned back in the pillow. "Alright. Fine. My name is Ginevra Molly Weasley-Potter. I am twenty years old. I am married to your son, Harry, who is twenty one. We were trying to cast a rather complex spell, and it seems to have gone wrong." She looked at the disbelieving faces of the two aurorers. "Look, you don't have to believe me, but I need to speak with Albus Dumbledore. It is absolutely imperative you contact him."

"Miss, my son is not twenty one years old. I am sorry to say you-" James started to respond only to be cut off by the girl who looked nothing like, but claimed to be, Ginny Weasley.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure your son is not twenty one. He would be seventeen, yes? And I'm sure you ran a blood identity spell before I woke so you'll know I'm telling the truth about myself as soon as it comes back. I can explain it all, but that's got to wait until after I speak with the professor. You have to contact him!"

James and Sirius exchanged another glance. Without a word Sirius turned and left the room.

"Alright, Miss Weasley-" He began again.

"It's Weasley-Potter, but you can just call me Mrs. Potter. I'm your daughter-in-law." She cut him off, rather impatiently.

"Fine. Mrs. Potter, then." James tried again. "Mrs. Potter, you were found gravely injured several hours ago atop Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh. Your blood levels were dangerously low, and your magical core is depleted. You have scars, particularly on your arms, that look as though they were deep enough to cause that type of blood loss. Do you remember who cut you, or who healed you afterword?"

"It doesn't really matter at the moment, does it?" She answered. "It would just be easier to tell the Order all at once, don't you think? I'd rather just get to Hogwarts or headquarters as quickly as possible."

James was stunned. The Weasley's weren't in the Order of the Phoenix, as far as he knew, nor had they ever been to headquarters. He was instantly wary. James drew his wand. This girl was clearly unbalanced at best, but she was in possession of knowledge of which, by all rights, she should not be. James was about to begin demanding truthful answers more forcefully when the orderly appeared in the room.

"Alright sir. Her heart rate is spiking. I'm going to have to ask you to step out." When James didn't move he said, louder, "Please sir, healer's orders. You need to leave."

With a last, long look at the girl on the bed, James turned and swiftly left, tugging the orderly along with him.

"This is Ministry business now." He told the affronted looking young man. "See to it that she doesn't leave and isn't moved, and that only healers with the highest Ministry security clearance see to her. She's not to have contact with anyone aside from the staff and Auror Black and myself."

The orderly looked stunned but one glance at James' determined face and he acquiesced.

"I'll let the healers know."

James nodded once and turned away to find Sirius.

He met his partner and best friend not far from the entrance to the high security ward. Sirius looked unusually pale.

"What is it?" James asked, "What's happened?"

"Apparently they've been trying to contact us all night." He replied. "Listen, mate, something's happened to Harry. He's in the infirmary at Hogwarts, along with Ron Weasley. They're both alive but it sounds like it's touch and go. We need to get there."

James swallowed thickly. He was using every ounce of his auror training to fight his own growing panic.

"Alright, I'm going to floo over. You can take it from here?"

"Dumbledore said we should both come and bring the mystery girl with us." Sirius replied. "Seems to want to hear what she has to say. You go on, I'll get the paperwork ready and bring her through by portkey in a mo'."

James was off before Sirius could say anything else.