Rejuvenation
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any profits from posting this fanfiction.
Summary: Epilogue compliant. Set 2019. Harry and Ron fall into the hands of a mad 'scientist' hell bent on eternal youth. Naturally, something goes wrong in the experimental stage. His test subjects weren't too pleased about their new roles as guinea pigs. Unfortunately for all involved, there were many casualties along the way; the most important of which being the death of their former lives.
Warnings: Gender change. OC character deaths. Kidnapping. Experimentation on human; adults and children. Swearing.
Pairings: HP/OC, RW/?
Rejuvenation - Chapter 2
Awareness crept in and the first thing Harry became aware of was a blinding pain right through the base of his skull. Wincing he lifted a hand to carefully feel the area even as he desperately attempted to peel back his eyelids to view the world. His fingers slid through sticky, matted strands of hair with crusty bits of dirt clinging desperately to the clumping strands. His fingers felt like they were coated in whatever the sticky substance was which, judging by the pain, Harry was willing to bet was blood.
His fingers tugged on a specific area of hair by accident sending a spiking pain through his head. Okay so he had definitely cut his head. You only got that spiking stinging pain when you pulled on something attached to a wound. Perfect. Carefully he continued feeling around only to find what was definitely a wound when he accidentally bumped his fingertips against the ridges on either side of it.
Gritting his teeth Harry carefully felt around the wound trying to ignore the pain so as to build a mental picture of how bad his wound was. About two inches long, not very wide. A little bit the wrong side of a superficial cut but not too bad. The amount of blood he could feel around the wound was probably only because it was a head wound, those always bled like a…
"AH! I forgot the nightshade!" A scratchy voice reached his ears making him jump. His fingers stabbed straight into the centre of his cut and Harry hissed and squinted his eyes open.
The sight that met Harry was truly bizarre in its contradictories.
He was in a brightly coloured, beautifully light room with sunlight cascading through a floor to ceiling window with sunshine yellow curtains hanging to either side of the light and bordering the top of the window. The walls were a sun dance of yellows, oranges and whites, beautiful despite the strange whirling pattern. Luckily, to break up the dervish of colours, there was a white wood panelling on the bottom third of the wall leading down to a thick grassy green carpet. Rich, elegant furniture decorated the edge of the room; chaise loungers, coffee and side tables with elegantly scrolled table legs, candle holders and lights decorating the surfaces of the tables along with beautiful vases full of flowers. They were all pushed back out of the way of the large rug that took centre stage in the room. It was a magnificent arabesque design on a darker green background captured the eye. The golden, yellow and white threads in an ornate curving design featuring intertwined floral and vine figures was beautiful and something Harry knew only appeared in the houses of people with money. There were landscape pictures on the walls with elegance and a style of paintwork Harry had only ever seen at the Ministry, Hogwarts and when he visited Narcissa Malfoy at Malfoy manor.
Then came the strange contradiction to the airily, light and bright, cheerful living space. Like a hairy black wart on an otherwise beautiful youthful hand, in the corner of the room was a large dark wood potions preparation desk upon which was black cauldron bubbling over a controlled burner. There were ingredients slung around the table, three mortars and pestles littering it and some potion bottles there too. From the walls over the area were some pieces of string and rope where there were different animal skins, animals and tails hung. There were three large baskets full of what looked to be rocks under the table and crouching down looking between the baskets was a man with cotton wool hair, dressed in brilliant lime green robes.
Wollaston?
About to get up and demand to know what was going on Harry became aware of something leaning against his shoulder and glanced to the left slightly. Ron. Ron was asleep or unconscious with his neck bent awkwardly to the side to allow his head to rest on Harry's shoulder as he slept on.
Harry frowned. Strange place, healer present, odd room, and Ron on his shoulder? Not to mention a wound on his head. How did he get here? Where was here? How did he get hurt? What was going on?
Harry frenziedly reached for his wand only to find it wasn't up his sleeve. He didn't even have his wand holster on him. Of course he didn't. He had taken it off in the Examination room as part of the examination routine. At least he was now dressed. Just no wand. No defence, no offence…no magic.
Quickly Harry began to look around the room a little more frantically, trying to piece together as much information as he could from what was available to him. Were there any clues as to where he was? Was there any indication of why he was here? What was out of place? Nothing! Nothing, except the potions table and the rocks in a basket. But there must be! Twenty or so years in the force did not leave him inept at noticing things! Things like…like worn away areas of the carpet, sun-bleached areas on carpets, walls and upholstery. Dust on tables, dust disturbances…which was odd because to the right of him was something beneath a white dust sheet. What could possibly be kept there when everywhere else was covered in dust?
There was a well-worn path from the potions table to a door on the right. The door was narrower than the doors on the left of the room, perhaps it was a bathroom or a cupboard? Then again there was a door identical to it at the back of the room right next to the potions table. Either way, bathroom or cupboard or unimportant area to the general inhabitants of the room which could mean it was a servants passage…Harry didn't know, more investigation needed. While there was bright sunlight filling the room there were no visible signs of bleached materials which could mean all the materials were spelled against such things which wasn't very likely, they were all brand new which was reasonably likely, or the light wasn't actual sunlight and was in fact just spelled artificial light like the ceiling in Hogwarts. That last option was likely as lots of old buildings had those sorts of spells cast on them, especially pureblood ancestral homes where windows were small and therefore more were spelled to appear like they were there.
There was what appeared to be a thin layer of dust on the coffee tables but also rectangular areas where there was no dust. Books had been placed there and prevented the area collecting dust. So where were the books now? Over to the left, on a bookcase by the potions area. Harry couldn't see the titles of the books but judging by their ancient looking binding Harry was willing to bet they were outdated and potentially not books encouraged in circulation any more.
On the right again the room seemed to bend around the corner just a little, a slight curving of the room. Still there was nothing out of the ordinary, just the room continuing with the same brightness and interior design as the rest of the room.
And then Harry saw something that set his teeth on edge, the small hairs all over his body stand on end and his heart beating rapidly.
To the right of him, what he had before dismissed as a pile with a dust sheet over it, was an arm sticking out from under the sheet. It was partially hidden from view and not immediately noticeable upon first glance. But it was definitely an arm and hand. An arm and hand that was stone grey. Obviously a dead arm and hand. Obviously.
So what was under the sheet? Did Harry even want to know? Probably not. Did he need to know? Yes.
Harry jerked his shoulder, jostling Ron who snorted, then grunted, then began to open his eyes.
"Wha-? Harry?"
"Shh." Harry hissed to Ron who blinked with astonishment and sat up straight. He looked around, eyes widening as he took in the room. "Bloody hell, where are we?"
"I don't know." Harry ground out through gritted teeth. He gestured to where the hand was. "Look."
"Bloody hell." Ron swore and reached into his sleeve. Eyes widening he started patting down the rest of his clothes.
"No wand?" Harry pre-empted and Ron licked his lips nervously before shaking his head.
"No, no wand."
"What the hell happened?"
"We were with Healer Wollaston at St Mungo's getting our quarterly checks done. Wollaston stunned you then me and brought us here. He's out there, over by the potions work station."
"I know I saw him, I just didn't know it was him till you just said. So you're saying the healer caught us?"
"Ah you are awake! Earlier than expected too but no matter."
Harry's attention was drawn to the healer who casually stood in front of them with a look of utter nonchalance on his face that it made riled Harry up. Harry shoved himself up onto his feet and paced the few steps towards the man ready to stare the man in the eyes and demand answers. Wollaston raised one caterpillar eyebrow and those sparkling blue eyes just patiently waited. Harry briefly wondered what he was waiting for before the anger eroded that thought and he stamped closer.
"Why have you brought us here? What are you playing at? You-uh!"
Harry's tirade of questions was cut short as his body slammed into something and he was thrown back several feet. He landed on his back and slid across the carpet, the fabric burning the skin he had showing and the impact winding him. He coughed and sat up.
"What the hell?!" He demanded and he saw Ron had frozen to his spot only a step or two away from Healer Wollaston. Ron had his calculating look on his face, the one that said 'logically analysing situation'. Harry didn't have the 'look' but he could do the thinking. Ward. Wollaston had put up a ward inside.
"Now, now Gentlemen. You should feel privileged! You are going to be a part of the biggest breakthrough in modern medicine!" Wollaston held up his hands high in the air to maximise his emphasis of 'biggest'. His eyes were wide and he gave them a beaming smile, happiness radiating from him.
"Breakthrough? You kidnapped us to help with a breakthrough? I'm not a healer. I only have basic first aid. I can't help you." Harry stuttered and Ron nodded in agreement still looking a little puzzled. Wollaston just smiled and clapped his hands.
"None the less, help you shall. You and the others. All of you. Why, if it wasn't for you this breakthrough would never happen and I am so close, so close I can taste it now!" Wollaston said and paced away from them and over to the potions table. "If only I can work out how the…"
The further away he got the less Harry could hear of what he said. Harry pushed himself to his feet and looked at Ron completely bewildered and confused.
"What?!" Was all Harry could manage. Ron shrugged his shoulders and reached out to touch the ward. It couldn't be seen but when Ron did manage to touch it he was thrown back s few metres where he landed in a pile.
"OWWW!" He whinged. "Buggering damnation!" He grossed and stood up rubbing his back. "I'm not as young as I used to be."
"No you're not. So, what kind of ward is this? Any ideas? I mean it's obviously a containment ward of some sort but I've never heard of ones that throw people back even with the lightest touch."
"Dunno. Wards aren't my specialty. Reminds me of the kind of ward they use for the dangerously insane at Mungo's though." Ron offered unhelpfully.
"Great. Remind me when we get back to book us both onto a warding course."
"Will do mate, will do."
Harry looked around them. "Now, didn't he mention there were others? Who others? And where are they?"
"Under that blanket with the dead arm?" Ron offered and they both carefully walked towards the pile that was covered in the sheet. Carefully, tentatively they inched closer tensely waiting to bump into the invisible ward wall and ready to react if they suddenly found themselves being thrown into the air. Harry hit the ward a few paces later and was thrown back. He shook it off the best he could but he knew there would be a bruise on his hip from his awkward landing.
A whole three minutes later, after 4 instances of being thrown backwards, they did make it to the pile covered in the sheet. The ward, it seemed, travelled in a somewhat straight line across the room. Since they had no way of marking where the ward was they couldn't tell for sure but Harry estimated that four feet before the backs of the various furniture was where the ward was.
"Ready to look mate?" Ron asked and Harry nodded and crouched down. Ron reached out a careful, freckled hand and lightly grasped the edge of the sheet. Harry held his breath and nodded to Ron again. Ron lifted the sheet.
"Merlin!" Harry breathed.
Bodies. A pile of bodies. Some children, some adults, but all unmoving. Dead. Dead bodies. Some partially decayed. Some seemingly fresh. One body had obviously died a while ago but been moved because the dark bruising along the body's neck and back was visible which meant the body had been on its back for a while after dying and all the blood had pooled at the back of the body. Since it had been moved the discolouration of the skin was easily visible.
Close to Harry, lying face up, was a boy of no more than ten years. The boy's face had a waxy grey-green look to it and his eyes were open and bulging. His cheeks were bulging too and his tongue was sticking out of his mouth. Harry ducked his head a little to see and almost immediately noticed the discolouration on the boy's back was the same dark black bruising the other body had. The boy had been laid on his back since his death. Harry had seen a lot of dead bodies in his time unfortunately and he knew what stages the body went through after death.
He also knew that dead bodies permeated a truly horrific stench from the build-up of gases due to the decomposition of tissue. He was surprised that he hadn't smelt anything at all from the bodies before him but perhaps, since the bodies were in the same room as Healer Wollaston, the healer knew a way to mask the smell.
Harry could see some of the bodies had weird masses pooled in the back of their trousers, the females having masses beneath their skirts on their rears. Harry pulled a face. The bodies had been left long enough that their intestines had squeezed out through their rectums as gasses built up inside the body forced them out. Harry was not very glad he couldn't smell the bodies because he was willing to bet that inside the skin shells were the most obnoxious gasses ever.
"What do you make of it Ron?"
"I think these two on top here, this one and this one, died at approximately the same time. I'd say they've been dead for little over two weeks, if that. Couldn't tell you what killed them though mate. There are a few people I can see in the pile who I'd guess died about a month or so ago but there must be at least eleven or twelve bodies on this pile. Maybe more, I dunno. I'll be honest; I don't want to move anybody yet, not until we have back up."
"I agree. This boy here." Harry indicated to the grey-green boy right next to him. "He's a recovering Dragon Pox victim. He's in the missing person files I retrieved from Tenderfoot. That is Rowan Doyle, age ten, half blood. Went missing during a floo jump from St Mungo's to Diagon Alley."
"Right okay."
"And her, that girl there. That's Sophia Cartwright. Last seen on Harmsworth street by her mother."
"Harmsworth street?"
"Yeah, the one on the muggle entrance to the hospital. Miss Cartwright is a squib born witch and was heading out into muggle London to go home." Harry pointed to the man at the bottom of the pile, the one whose arm stuck out beneath the sheet and alerted them to what was under the sheet. "Now all I have to go on is that tattoo on his arm there, but I seem to remember Stephen Cornfoot, whose wife reported him missing, had a Viking tattoo just like that one. Never returned home after-"
"No, let me guess! He visited St Mungo's the day he went missing."
"Correct. He is one of the cases assigned to Davies. We hadn't made much of a connection between the missing adults and the missing children. Now, with hindsight, it all makes sense." Harry sighed and gestured for Ron to drop the blanket down to cover the people again.
"So Wollaston was abducting his patients?"
"Perhaps not just his patients, anybody he came into contact with it seems. But as far as I could see none of those bodies had injuries so I don't know what caused their deaths. No lacerations, no bludgeoning, no indications of spell work noticeable. It has to be something magical or a poison."
"It wasn't a poison."
Harry spun around looking feverishly from left to right to see where that voice came from.
"Hello? What did you say?" Nobody was there so Harry took one step forwards scanning the area carefully.
"I said it wasn't a poison." Harry's head turned when his ears identified the sound coming from his left. There, peeking out from behind the long, floor sweeping table cloth was a woman.
"It wasn't a poison?" Harry asked, carefully approaching the woman who shrank back a little as Harry approached. Carefully, slowly, like he was approaching a terrified animal, he inched closer. As he came close enough to see around the edge of the table cloth he paused with shock trying to take in what he was seeing.
There was about a dozen, if a few less, people all cowering there. Some looked starved, some looked ill, some looked skittish, some looked shy, some looked hopeful but all, all, of them looked scared.
Harry recognised a few faces he knew from the reports. Holly Corner, Jimmy Clark, two Vaisey children, Winnifred Summerby, Max Tucker. All had been presumed dead because of Tenderfoot's absolute incompetence! Some of the adults Harry knew as well. Griselda Vaisey who had been reported missing along with her children but who had been presumed to have returned home to Germany as a result of her husband's love affair with another woman in their employment. Eloise Perks had a job as a Welcome Witch but after a falling out with her boss over something she had disappeared off the face of the earth back in late November. Isolde Hitchens who had displayed some odd behaviours before her subsequent disappearance which co-workers had put down to being a secret love affair which Hitchens had wanted to keep secret from everybody and thus lead to her dismissive, secretive nature and random disappearances. Harry was willing to stake the condense of his lesser vault on the fact that Hitchens did have a love interest and that because of that she had visited St Mungo's for a sexually transmitted disease test or a pregnancy test.
"Hi." Harry offered everyone, hoping the informal and almost childlike greeting would help them to warm to him. One of the children, Jimmy Clark, offered a wave. The girls offered the barest hints of a smile. The women adopted slight smiles too.
"Hello." Offered the one who had spoken to him before. Harry offered her a professional closed lip smile and held his hand out to her.
"Harry Potter."
"Anabelle Dent."
"So…what can you tell me?" Harry asked and relaxed back a little to sit on the floor. He met each person's eyes one at a time hoping his serious gaze but relaxed body language would coax them into talking.
"Well," Anabelle started, "the healer over there abducted all of us for some nefarious reason relating to experimentation with dangerous and outlawed rituals."
Oh Merlin, Anabelle Dent must be a reporter for a gossip magazine. Harry had to force his smile to stay encouraging all the while wishing he could roll his eyes at her exaggerations, unneeded use of unnecessary adjectives and her general failure to come to the point.
A few moments of blathering by Anabelle lead to Harry wishing he could tap his foot, twiddle his thumbs or bash his head against a brick wall with boredom and impatience.
Something must have shown on his face, either that or impatience got the better of her, Isolde Hitchens interrupted.
"Wollaston is obsessed with staying young. Eternal youth." She rolled her eyes and glared at Anabelle meaningfully. Anabelle harrumphed. "He isn't interested in living forever; he's trying to use a combination of potions, spells and rituals to transfer the soul of one person into the body of another. An adult's soul into a child's body. He keeps failing. That's why he needs us. We are his test subjects. Those are his failures." She pointed to the large pile of bodies.
How could she be so blasé about it?
"I've been here a two months. He feeds us once a day in the evening. Occasionally we get something extra in the evening but mostly it's just one meal. Healthy stuff too, a little bit of each of the food groups. Just not very much, especially not enough to share between us all. At the back of the room over there we have or toilet area. Once a week he spells a tub in for us to bathe in. The ward thing seems to extend most of the way around the room. Where the backs of the furniture are is where the ward begins so don't whatever you do try to sit on a sofa. We are lucky this table is in out warded bit."
"The ward goes around the room?" Ron asked. "Why?"
"Dunno. I assume it's so we can watch him perform his rituals. We are kept near the walls at all times with a clear view into the centre of the room. That's where he does his rituals."
"You're an auror! Have you come to rescue us?" Winnifred Summerby asked hopefully.
With no wand, stuck behind a ward you can't see, being held prisoner by a madman who had been able to cover his tracks for Merlin knew how many years, and nobody knowing exactly when Harry and Ron had gone missing…
…..how did a person answer that poor little girl's question?
"I'll try."
"There you are, see? That is what you get for your uncooperative, idiotic tantrums! I don't understand why you fail to comprehend what an honour I am giving you!"
Harry couldn't even bring himself to twitch let alone argue. From his position on the floor he could see everybody else around him lying on the ground with pained expressions on their faces. Some of the children were crying. Anabelle had passed out. Jimmy had curled up into an even tighter ball and now remained unmoving.
Wollaston had come to them all after he'd finished work declaring he thought he had corrected the problem and had wanted to try out the new and improved ritual right then and there. He had pointed at Griselda and Holly and demanded that they step forwards. They had refused. Holly screaming and crying, gripping onto Honora Sloper and shaking violently. Griselda had scowled and shook her head, immediately reaching out for her children and holding them to her kissing their heads repeatedly and mumbling to them. Her hand had shaken and tears silently streamed down her face.
Before Harry and Ron argued the healer had demanded the two come to him but then sent a wordless curse at the ward.
Harry had expected the spell to enter the ward wall but it didn't. It impacted the wall itself and Harry had been absolutely horrified to see the ward ripple, the ripples travelling out from the point of impact and travelling out. With abject horror Harry could only watch as the ripples reached the floor then started travelling towards them.
The children screamed, the women screamed and sobbed even before the ripple reached them. Harry didn't have time to ask or react though because at that moment the ripple touched his foot.
Pain shot through each part of his body. It was like electricity spiking through every muscle, every tendon, every organ, every nerve, and every fibre of his being. It was like being flayed alive. He was burning. He was being stabbed. He was being drawn and quartered. The air left his lungs with a scream from his entire being. His yell joined the chorus of others already in mid verse. He knew he was writhing, shaking, moving to try to escape the pain. Anything to get rid of the pain. Anything.
Then it was gone and he had been left motionless on the ground. All of his muscles felt like jelly. His brain was disconnected from his limbs. He couldn't move. He couldn't think of moving. He couldn't even breath properly, the basic function happening weakly and without any conscious control.
Everybody else was rendered immobile too.
What spell was that?!
"Benefit of being a healer. You know how to heal pain and therefore know how to give it. That is a spell that mimics the effects of the box jellyfish's sting without the death afterwards." The healer boasted. "Now if you had only come when I instructed none of that would have happened. You should be appreciative and complying to my efforts to help the wizarding world, not try to hinder progress with your flagrant obstinacy and idiocy. Now, Wingardium Leviosa."
Harry, as week as a new born, tried and failed to lift his head to see what happened. The action sapped the remaining energy from his body and he slumped to the floor again. He needn't have bothered. Griselda's limp body floated past him and out through the ward. She was lowered onto the arabesque decorated rug and then Wollaston went back and levitated Holly's body over. There was a slight ripple Wollaston reactivated the ward.
Harry couldn't see much more from where he was laid. He could only see Griselda's face. The woman limp and unmoving except for her eyes which rolled around their sockets completely wild and panicked as they hopelessly searched for escape.
Wollaston started talking and once or twice Harry saw the man's shoes and trouser legs as the man travelled to and fro in front of Griselda. Harry tried to get his body to move but his limbs wouldn't cooperate. They tried and Harry kept forcing himself but he only made it up onto his elbow before he was completely exhausted.
It gave him a slightly better view over the coffee table that blocked the majority of his view before. Wollaston was walking around drawing circles with salt. There was a large cauldron in the middle of the room that had purple smoke rising from it. There were also runes drawn all over the place. Griselda was lying in one circle inside of a big circle and Holly was lying in another circle opposite.
Harry struggled up some more, trying desperately to sit up.
Wollaston began chanting long lists of words continuously. Harry didn't recognise any of them and continued to struggle up and up. His arms shook manically with the effort it took to attempt such a movement. His stomach muscles burned like wildfire despite the rapidly chilling air as they tried to contract and force his body upright. It was such a hard task but Harry eventually managed it then had to hold his breath instead of panting because his breath was visible it was so cold in the room and he needed to see.
The air cleared in front of him just in time to see Griselda breath out a long out breath which carried with it a small glowing ball of light which Harry had seen once before at the lake with Sirius in third year. When the dementors had tried and nearly succeeded to kiss the soul from Sirius. The glowing ball was Holly's soul.
"NO!" He yelled. "NO!"
He looked frantically over to Holly to see the little girl struggling to breath.
"Yes! Yes it's working! It's working! Haha!" Wollaston cried and clapped his hands. Harry screamed.
"NO! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!"
"Shut up! This is history in the making and…oh no…no no no no no NO!"
What? Harry snapped his eyes to see what was happening. The small glow from Griselda had travelled across the circle and was just entering the circle where Holly lay. Holly's body started quivering and shaking. The girl made a small sound. As the glow of Griselda's soul slipped into the girl's mouth the girl started seizing violently. Wollaston rushed over waving his wand frantically but as he did so there was a huge flash of light, he was flung back and as the light disappeared it revealed Holly who lay silently and still on the floor, pale, limp and lifeless.
"NO! It always fails at the last moment! Useless." With a flick of his wand Holly's lifeless body flew across the room landing on the pile of other dead bodies. It was done with such a casualness that it was almost like throwing your card down on the discard pile. Only it was done with a human. Harry felt his eyes well up with tears. His little girl was Holly's age. 12 years old. Only 12 years old and already dead.
Harry felt absolutely terrible as he felt grateful it wasn't his daughter.
"Still alive but completely useless. What a waste of my time." Harry glanced up through wet lashes and bleary eyes to where Wollaston was now crouching over the limp but still breathing body of Griselda. He pinched her nose with his finger and thumb and held her mouth closed with his other fingers.
"NO! LET HER GO YOU MONSTEROUS BASTARD!" Ron yelled.
"MURDERER!" Harry yelled his fury all wound up and bound together in one growled out word.
Wollaston didn't even blink. He just held Griselda's face until the shaking stopped and Griselda succumb to being asphyxiated to death.
"She had no soul, she wouldn't live anyway and at least this way her death wasn't worthless, even if the experiment was a failure. Still, you cannot be successful without a few setbacks."
"Yes but your setbacks kill people! You are nothing more than a murderer!"
"I am a Healer!" Wollaston said and stood up with an unholy fire in his eyes.
"Oh yeah? Then heal her!" Harry demanded and Wollaston sneered.
"What for? She's dead, she is beyond help now."
"Yeah she's beyond help now. Healers are supposed to help people. Not harm them. Not kill them!"
"I am helping people. What is the suffering of a few compared to the healing of the masses?"
"You are insane. You are absolutely insane!" It was Ron that said that though the words had only been mini-seconds from Harry's own lips. Wollaston didn't care, he just shrugged.
"Insanity is just a form of genius nobody understands. You should feel privileged to be witness to my medical triumph."
"More like murderous disaster. You are no genius. You are the scum of the earth."
They saw the spell coming but even as the ripples came and hit them again there was nothing they could do to escape the torture. Harry's world exploded into a roaring agony and then into blackness.
Harry scooped up some water onto the little girl's head helping her to wash her hair. Next to him Honora was doing the same for Winnifred. Ron was helping Sigmund to dry off and get dressed while Anabelle helped Jimmy and Max split the food up.
"Nearly done now Mafalda." Harry said calmly and the little girl nodded silently and curled up into a tighter ball. Harry sighed and scooped up some more water onto the long waving strands. It was hard to reach the girl's hair line because she had scrunched down so much. The girl's fringe was thankfully swept back with the rest of her hair due to the washing process so at least Harry knew he hadn't missed any hair. She could do with a haircut though. Harry might not know much about hair but he could identify split ends and he knew her fringe was far too long now, reaching to the tip of her button nose.
"Nearly done. I just need to wash the top of your head so can you close your eyes for me?"
"Okay." Mafalda whispered and Harry glanced around to see she had closed her eyes. He scooped up the water as quickly as he could to rinse off the soap from the girl's hair then swept it all back again.
"Good all clean and ready to go."
Mafalda opened her eyes and looked at Harry with those unnerving pale sage green eyes. Around the girl's pupil was a ring of slightly darker green but the majority of her iris was a pale silvery green as if the colour of her eyes had been bled away. It was unnerving.
Mafalda didn't say anything at all just nodded to Harry's words and began climbing out of the bath. Harry held up the towel so the girl had some privacy and then left her alone so she could dry and dress herself.
"Hey Jimmy, Max. Whoever's having the next bath needs to get over here so I can do your hair." Harry called and Jimmy ran over immediately. He stripped off while Harry looked skyward and only when Harry heard the splash of water did he look back down again. "Right let's get you clean."
It was odd to help with bath time. Harry hadn't needed to help his children bath since they reached eight years old and even before that sometimes they managed by themselves. All Harry had to do was sit in the room with them to make sure they didn't drown, or sit outside the door just in case. Lily had dragged out bath time the longest. She had wanted help right up until she was ten, then had started trying to be more independent. James hated being helped to bathe. He had always resented having a bath anyway but the indignity of being helped was not nice for him. He stopped having baths at seven and insisted on having a shower instead. At eight years old Harry and Ginny had felt confident enough to leave him to his own devices in the shower and go downstairs to leave him to it. Albus had been different again. He had endured it; played with toys in the bath with Lily those few times they shared their baths when they were younger. Then as he grew up he liked to try by himself but always wanted an adult nearby just in case he got it wrong. He wasn't blessed with a great deal of confidence that boy.
None of Harry's kids just patiently waited to be cleaned, not like the kids in Wollaston's 'care'. They just went through the motions. But then it wasn't really something they could take enjoyment in. The water was only lukewarm. The soap was minimal and not exactly sweet smelling. There was no shower head, nor was there a bucket to scoop up the water with so they couldn't clean their hair by themselves they needed somebody else to do it. It was undignified and unpleasant. The most Harry could say about it was that it was functional and borderline hygienic. That was the best they could hope for.
When the children were all clean the adults took their turns and then they ate the meagre offerings of food for the evening. Harry wished he could give some of his food to the children but it had to be fair and keep each portion the same as the next. Their stomachs all grumbled at the paltry amount of food but there was nothing to be done. After three weeks of being held by Wollaston, Harry had grown used to the captivity. His body was adjusting to the lack of food, his awareness of time had altered and his mood had dampened. All attempts at escape had proved useless. He couldn't find an end or a weakness in the ward. Without a wand he couldn't sufficiently break or damage the ward. His wandless magic was limited and he couldn't even work an 'accio' wandlessly, something he was going to have to work hard to rectify when he got out of the place.
Captivity was immensely boring. Harry and Ron had taken to reciting auror rules and regulations to pass the time. They recounted old stories, them and the whole group. They'd learned all about each other's lives, they'd learned about each other's jobs. They had made up stories about what their friends and families were doing but that was an activity that was done sparingly because they didn't want to get too upset by it. Too much talking about his family made Harry depressed and it only made his heart ache with missing Ginny and the kids even more. So sparingly did it.
Auror training did cover how to keep your mind and body active during captivity but then again Harry had done his auror training when he was eighteen. Now, at thirty nine years old, most of that training had been forgotten. And despite being head of the auror department, and despite Ron effectively being the deputy head, they couldn't remember the policies they had written on the bloody stuff. They were going to have to start revising it when they got out…or rewriting it. They could just organise refresher courses.
Oh and all the other things he had to do. There was a whole list he had mentally accumulated. The dealing with basic training that he'd forgotten. He had found lots of faults chatting about the various policies at the ministry. He'd have to put pressure on people to get things changed when he got out. Then there were the new policies that had to be brought in: The most important being a tighter regulation of the Healers and Medi-witches and Wizards at St Mungo's. How everybody had missed that Wollaston was completely off his rocker was astounding. Somebody in a position of trust like that, where they had members of the public vulnerable and in their care, should be regulated a lot more firmly so that situations like the one Harry was in now just wouldn't happen! Everybody would naturally trust a healer, but look where that trust had landed Harry and the others. They couldn't afford for something like that to happen again.
Also trackers were definitely something Harry would bring in. Three weeks without any of the other aurors finding them. Three weeks and nothing. Harry knew Wollaston was very good at abducting people and had been doing it for years upon years, but for them still not to have been discovered? Harry might make all aurors wear traceable wrist bands. Ones with a tracking spell in them so that they could be found…except in the wrong hands that would be bad.
Damn it.
What about portkeys to be kept on auror's persons at all times? That would be good. Helpful. A portkey to a secure room in the Ministry. Well that would work but most of the time it wasn't aurors who got taken hostage.
And it certainly wouldn't help Harry's situation.
Or Ron's…or the new person Wollaston was levitating through the ward.
"There. That should even out the numbers now. Let's see. Two, four, six, eight, ten and twelve. Excellent!" Was all Wollaston said as he lowered his newest victim to the ground. Then he left, blathering on to himself about different things.
Harry shuffled over to the newest member of their group. Harry recognised the face almost immediately. Cameron Wood. Youngest child of Oliver Wood and Jessie Wood both ex-Quidditch stars now turned coaches for their respective teams Puddlemore United and the Wigtown Wanderers. The Wood family had become quite close friends after Ginny's Quidditch days. Ginny had spent a brief amount of time playing for the Wanderers and made friends with Jessie, a friendship that had lasted even after Ginny changed teams. Cameron and Niall usually ended up at the Potter house for a friendly Quidditch game or to sleep over while their parents were busy with work and their grandparents couldn't look after them.
And now this. Cameron was in Harry's care again, only this time the situation was useless and Harry couldn't do his duty and protect Cameron.
"Blimey. Is that Wood's kid?"
"Yeah. Cameron."
"Merlin's saggy ball sack." Ron groaned.
That about summed it up.
AN: And there you have it, the next chapter. Thank you for everyone who added this story to their favourite's list, it was much appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.