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/?
Notes: Short chapter but that is because of the plot line. Lots of things are about to start happening.
Rejuvenation - Chapter 3
The coughing was stopping his sleep. Harry was torn between feeling guilty for wishing the boy would just shut up and guilty that he couldn't help him.
"Sigmund? You okay?"
"Yes I…" He coughed again, followed by a retch and heave. Then there was a wet sound of a liquid splattering on something.
Harry was up and alert immediately. He threw himself over onto his front and up onto his knees to see the boy. He was coughing into his hand but blood was pouring off of his hand onto the floor.
"Oh Merlin! Okay…okay. Alright Sigmund. Don't panic. Try to stay calm alright? Ron! RON!" Harry blurted trying to take control of the panic he could hear in his own voice.
Harry crawled over to the boy taking his hands in one of his. With his other hand he smoothed his back gently rubbing in circles. Every vertebrae of Sigmund's spine stuck out like pebbles in sand, harsh and unexpected. Sigmund leaned back into the touch with a soft moan then began coughing and retching again. More blood splattered into his hand. Harry swallowed nervously to try to lubricate his throat because even he, with limited understanding of health, knew that coughing and vomiting blood was bad. Very, very bad.
"Bloody hell! Okay…shit okay." Ron blundered for a moment. He made to move to the left then the right then just seemed to judder on the spot for a moment before heaving a great breath and lunging for the water. "Here, will a drink help?"
"No…no…don't want to…" Sigmund moaned and moved one of his blood covered hands to his stomach. He rubbed it then his body heaved forwards abruptly and more blood splattered to the floor. The boy collapsed to the side and lay there breathing weakly.
"It's okay Sigmund, stay with me. It's alright. Just breathe sweet heart. You're okay." Harry murmured, shifting a little so he could rub the boy's back. Sigmund shuddered in a breath then gave a weak heave and blood dribbled from his mouth onto the floor.
"Sigmund? Sigmund?" Mafalda crawled across the floor to her sister. She gagged at the sight of the blood and quickly turned to look at her brother. She stroked Sigmund's hair and Harry saw the siblings share a weak smile.
"It's alright. Everything's going to be okay." Harry tried to sooth them but he knew his words were lies. He knew they were. And the Vaisey children probably knew they were too.
"Sigmund…" Mafalda whispered as if to say something else. Sigmund just heaved again and lots more blood spewed from her mouth like a wave upon the shore.
"Okay, it's okay Sigmund. It's okay."
"Vomiting blood is not okay." Anabelle whispered into Harry's ear. He waved her off like you'd do to an annoying fly but she was persistent. "He must have internal bleeding…or…or a ruptured stomach ulcer…or he could be mortally ill with some disease we will all catch."
"Anabelle, shut up and bugger off would you? Talking like that isn't going to help anyone!" Ron scowled at the woman hoping to stem the tide of hysterical verbal diarrhoea. It was too late though. Anabelle had gone into a complete panic. She threw herself away from Sigmund and started pacing up and down crying and wailing and begging.
"We're all going to die! We're all going to die! I DON'T WANNA DIE! I'm too young to die! I can't catch a fatal disease and DIE! I can't! SOMEBODY HELP ME! SOMEBODY HELP! HELP!"
Harry scowled but quickly tried to reassure Sigmund and Mafalda who were looking teary. Sigmund's breaths, weak though they were, were more rapid now as he started to cry.
"Shh, shh, it's okay. Don't listen to Anabelle. It will be fine, okay? Just try to stay calm and we will see what we can do for you."
"SOMEBODY HELP!"
"Ron can't you shut her up somehow?"
"What do you want me to do mate? I can't very well spell her silent can I? And I don't know how to render anyone unconscious without physical injury."
"Don't worry, I'll do it!" Honora said and slowly got up from where she had been laid. Her movements were sluggish and weak due to starvation and lack of nutrients. She slowly walked towards Anabelle, each movement looking to be exhausting.
Which is why Harry was stunned silly when Honora slapped Anabelle around the face with a lot more force than he'd seen from a woman's slap in years. Anabelle's head snapped to the side and the woman tripped and fell to the ground as the impact made her twist around so far she lost her balance.
"Shut up you hysterical cow!"
Harry tried to tune out the woman who descended into petty bickering and concentrated on the Sigmund again. There was another trickle of blood down the boy's chin and he was getting paler by the second. Harry smiled weakly and smoothed the boy's hair.
"I want my mummy." He said looking less like the strong boy of nine years as he had in the photograph in the case files back at Auror headquarters. His pale green, nearly colour bleached, eyes were wet and glistening with tears.
"I know you do." Was all Harry could say because Griselda was just a lifeless decaying body on the discard pile now. Just another body among dozens.
"What in the blazes is going on down here?! Who is making all this racket?! Don't you know I need my sleep otherwise how am I going to continue my genius research?!"
"Oh shut up you crackpot old fool!" Ron insulted and Wollaston's eyes glinted like marble in the limited early summer morning light.
"How dare you-! Oh." Wollaston noticed Sigmund and the blood on the floor. Harry felt the second the healer's eyes caught a glimpse of the ill boy and the blood. He felt it like a full body blow and curled over the boy to hide him from the man's view. With a disappointed scowl the healer drew his wand. One spell later and Harry found himself flat out on the floor unable to move a muscle as a second spell had Sigmund floating out of the warded area.
"No. NO!" Harry croaked out and then yelled. Wollaston paid him no mind.
The seconds seemed to pass like hours. Harry didn't know what the next second would bring.
Sigmund floated through the air giving the occasional weak couch which sent more blood splattering out of his mouth and into the air. Some dripped down onto the floor leaving a trail of blood in the boy's wake. No sooner had he passed through the ward did the spell holding Harry to the ground release him. With great effort Harry pushed himself up to his feet and pushed his body through the few steps forward to be closer to the boy. Each step felt like he'd done it with several tonnes of weight around his body but he did it. Next to him Mafalda managed to half crawl and half slide her way closer to her brother. She was whimpering and crying, reaching out to Sigmund.
The little boy floated across the room and at the half way point gave a weak moan and another small heave which sent more blood spilling to the floor and drenching the carpet. He floated over to the chaise lounge and was lowered onto it. Mafalda clawed her way up Harry's leg so she could stand as close to the ward wall as possible. Harry helped her up, being aided by Ron. Mafalda leaned into them and turned her face into Harry's side trying to hide her face against their bodies but at the same time keep an eye on her brother; fearful but hopeful at the same time.
Harry looked at Ron and the red head stared at him hopelessly with twin tears falling from his eyes. Harry shut his eyes briefly.
Merlin help that little boy.
Harry clenched his teeth and squared his shoulders. Reaching one hand out to Ron he let it rest on his friend's shoulder while he curled his other arm around Mafalda. Opening his eyes he set them resolutely on Sigmund determined not to look away.
Sigmund looked steadily back. His eyes on Mafalda.
He looked sickly and weak, his appearance bellying the truth of the severity of his condition. His skin was so ashen grey that he could have been a piece of paper. His skin glistened with sweat and his hair was wet with sweat and blood. His clothes were drenched in it revealing just how skinny the wretched boy was now.
"Oh dear." Wollaston clicked his tongue up against the roof of his mouth. "Well, there's nothing for it. Avada Kedavra."
"No! NO!" Ron yelled. Harry coughed out a wheeze of disbelief and Mafalda screamed a blood curdling shrill. Other screams came from behind them but the only thing ringing in Harry's ears were those two horrible words to the killing curse.
The bright sickly green light flew through the air and smacked Sigmund straight in the chest.
Sigmund passed over with the softest of exhales as Harry, Ron and Mafalda screamed.
Harry didn't remember much about the next few minutes. Afterwards, as he lay on the floor cuddling a boneless Mafalda and leaning up against Ron both seeking and giving comfort, he was able to recall a few things. He remembered Wollaston saying something about putting animals down when they were feeble like that, and how it was the biggest mercy he could offer. He remembered Ron, or perhaps himself, or maybe both of them, or maybe even all of the captives, yelling that Wollaston was a murderer. A cold-hearted vicious killer. And he knew with absolute clarity that one of them screamed that the world would condemn the man for the atrocities and crimes against humanity and that no matter what break through the man made in the name of medicine he would forever be labelled the most odious and immoral being to walk the planet besides Voldemort.
That was when the pain came. One agonising curse after another after another until Harry was the only one conscious. He watched through exhausted eyes as Wollaston stormed over to his workbench and began researching more fervently than before.
Days drifted by. Days, then a week, then two weeks, then three. Two more rituals had taken Isolde Hitchens, Daniel Stirling, Anabelle and little Max with them. Max had died in the ritual. Anabelle and Isolde lost their souls then had their bodies smothered to death by Wollaston. Daniel had somehow survived the ritual but had spent all his time after Isolde's soul entered his body screaming. The screams had gone on for an hour before Wollaston 'put him down' as if the poor boy was an animal.
Mafalda had been unmoving for days. The girl just lay there blinking occasionally looking every bit an exhausted shell of a girl. Exhausted, grief stricken and bereft. Hopeless, defeated and beaten down. Harry, Ron, Honora and Eloise had all tried their hand at comforting the girl. Even Cameron, Jimmy and Winnifred had tried but the children had no more success than the adults. In the end they had just taken to taking it in turns to sit with the girl.
"It doesn't make sense!"
"What?" Harry asked looking at Ron who was yet again pacing backwards and forwards. It was Harry's turn to comfort Mafalda who was laid with her head on his lap as he stroked her hair.
"There's no clear reason for how he's selecting the pairs for the ritual. I mean, Griselda and Holly were together so I thought, you know, that women would be paired with girls and men with boys. But then Anabelle and Max were put together and so were Isolde and Daniel. It couldn't have been because Wollaston had run out of girls because Mafalda is still here. So either there's some weird calculation he has of who will work best with who, or it's completely random. It doesn't make sense."
"None of it makes sense." Honora scoffed.
"Except for the part where none of the children are below the age of 8 years old. There doesn't even seem to be a rational reason why he has chosen the people he has. It's more like he picks up people of convenience."
"That's true. But he has been careful, very careful, to not take too many at once. The Vaisey's were having a winter check-up because they had suffered from muggle flu so the whole family was together. That was a month or so before me and Harry got taken. Then Cameron arrived a few weeks after us during a Hogsmeade visit in May. You," Harry indicated to Honora, "were here a week before the Vaisey's. Eloise has been here close to three months, she got taken in February."
"Yes but for some reason I'm still here and some of the people who got here after me have already been used in the ritual." Honora said. "So we have absolutely no way of guessing who will be next."
"No idea at all."
They lulled once again into silence, each of them thinking things through trying to understand what was going on. They had no hope of understanding though because they didn't know what the ritual demanded, they didn't know what crackpot scheme Wollaston had created. They couldn't contemplate the atrocities he was committing as anything more than atrocities.
"Why does he not pick children younger than nine years old?" Cameron asked quietly. The once vibrant youth had become sullen and withdrawn. The side effects of captivity, torture and certain death were oppressive.
"Well Sigmund was the youngest at eight wasn't he?" Ron asked and Eloise shook her head.
"No he was nine. Max was nine too."
"Oh okay. Nine then." Ron corrected.
"But why nine? I'm thirteen. Mafalda's only ten. Jimmy's eleven. Winnifred is eleven too. Daniel was twelve, he got snatched after only coming home for Easter the week before." Cameron observed angrily, the Scottish making the words harsher than normal.
"Well I suppose again Wollaston just took whoever was easiest to get his hands on. You were at Mungo's too weren't you when you were taken?" Ron answered trying to be reasonable. Harry could see his friend's brain was scrabbling and frantically trying to piece together each and every little puzzle piece only to find none of them fit with each other.
"Yeah. Dad took me." Cameron said with an eye roll. "Wanted to check that my Quidditch injury had healed properly. Said Madam Pomfrey was good at what she did but she was getting on in years and she might have missed something. Typical Dad being overly dramatic." Typical teenager dismissing care and love as drama and bossiness.
"Well that's it then. You were only taken because of convenience. There's no real logical choice behind it."
"Great. Wrong place at the wrong time. Why do I have the worst luck?!"
"Oh I wouldn't say that Cameron." Eloise cooed gently to the teenager. Cameron stiffened up at the coo, no doubt thinking it was patronising. "I wouldn't say you had the worst luck. You nearly made it onto the Quidditch team in your first year didn't you?"
"Yeah, it was just bad luck that they all discovered I was only eleven and couldn't play. I don't understand why eleven year olds can't play house Quidditch! It's some crap about needing a year to settle into Hogwarts but it never did Harry Potter any harm joining in his first year did it Harry?" Cameron demanded and Harry shrugged so that he wouldn't be outright agreeing but wouldn't disagree with the teenager's words either. Teenagers were tricky beings. Cameron nodded and gave Eloise a pointed look. "See?"
"Yes well your magic has a lot of maturing to do during the first year of school life." Eloise continued and this time her words were patronising. She carried on talking about the reasons why wands weren't given out to children under eleven years old because of health reasons but also maturity reasons. She also talked about how growing into teenage-hood caused more stresses on the body and magic of wizards and witches.
And it was then that Harry noticed. Despite being thirteen years old, Cameron hadn't started puberty yet. Hadn't started. Some children were late bloomers sure, others were early bloomers. But at thirteen Cameron hadn't started, was short compared to others of a similar age and Harry was willing to bet that Cameron's magic hadn't started to grow and change with puberty.
It was the same with all the other children. They were on the cusp of puberty, at the time when their bodies prepared for the change from childhood into adulthood. They were all children who hadn't started the most difficult physical, emotional, hormonal and magical change in their lives. They hadn't started it yet. Which meant they were all at that time when their magic and everything else was open to outside influences and…
Merlin's saggy left testicle!
Oh great Merlin's hairy arse!
"RON!" Harry hissed. Ron abruptly turned to him and in the peripheral of Harry's vision he noticed that the others had turned their heads as well.
"Yeah?"
"It's about puberty!" Harry said and Ron frowned, completely confused. Harry gestured his ginger haired friend closer so he could try to keep the whole conversation hushed. Thankfully Mafalda was asleep on his lap otherwise he'd have to get rid of her too just to hold the conversation.
"What does puberty have to do with anything?"
"It has to do with everything!" Harry insisted. "Wollaston needs children who have not yet started puberty, or children who have just started it and therefore their bodies are already beginning to struggle under the onslaught of extra hormones, chemicals and magical fluctuations. It's the same reason why children have to be a certain age before starting Hogwarts and before getting their wands. It's because it's safer for the children to go through all of those changes in a safe magical environment because Hogwarts can take outbursts of accidental magic and sometimes because of all the magic in and around at Hogwarts excess magic is essentially burned off."
"So what does that have to do with Wollaston?"
"Don't you see?" Harry said and suddenly had a flashed image of Hermione giving him and Ron a lecture and starting it with those words. "If Wollaston needed to mess around with their souls, their bodies are in so much turmoil already it's easier to get away with adding a new soul into the body because the body, chemicals and magic have so much distracting them they wouldn't noticed. The new soul would just be accepted because there are too many other things going on with it for it to bother noticing something different."
"Bloody hell."
"It's a bit like what happened to me as a baby." Harry pointed up to the scar on his head. "My body was so busy growing up that it didn't notice a little bit extra. It just accepted it and I grew up around it. Those are critical points in child development; the earliest years and the pre-pubescent and pubescent years."
"Holy fuuu…" Ron started to say then quickly closed his mouth to stop the swearword. His eyes were wide with astonishment and dawning horror. He quickly glanced around them to the children. "So does that mean the children for the ritual will be chosen based on whether they are going into puberty or not?"
"Yes I think so. I mean take Daniel; he had some basic signs of puberty. Despite the lack of food he had hit a growth spurt. He also complained about itching in his crotch because of the hair."
"And Max? He was titchy."
"Max had signs of pubic hair under his arms didn't he? And he was always adjusting himself in his trousers."
"Okay." Ron nodded. "How about Holly?"
"I didn't know Holly that well but I'm willing to bet she was just hitting puberty. When girl's hit it they get internal changes first don't they? Like their ovaries and stuff? I don't know. Lily hadn't started yet so I didn't read that far ahead in the Child development book." Ron laughed.
"Blimey you actually read that thing?"
"Well didn't you? For Rose?"
"No way. I let Hermione deal with it." Ron said with a cheeky smile. Harry couldn't help he, he laughed. It was typical Ron really…and typical Hermione. "I think you are right though. I mean puberty is all about growing and changes going on with genitalia. A woman's genitals are inside them so it makes sense for those do change and stuff first."
"Mm. At any rate it doesn't help us much with our situation now." Harry grossed and looked around. The others had clearly heard; Honora, Eloise and Cameron anyway. Jimmy and Winnifred were quite a little way away. Harry thought Mafalda was still asleep so it was unlikely she would have heard.
"No but it does explain a few things." Ron said and Harry shot him a questioning look. Ron shrugged. "At least we now know why Mafalda, Jimmy and Winnifred have been held for so long without being experimented on. It also explains why Wollaston doesn't conduct the rituals more often. He has to wait."
"Right." Harry nodded.
"Yeah wait until we hit puberty. Great! As if being a teenager wasn't hard enough." Cameron grossed, eyes glistening with unshed, angry tears.
"Oh Cameron…" Eloise said and reached out a hand. Cameron slapped it away angrily.
"Keep the hell away from me. I don't want your pity! Leave me alone!"
"It will be okay Cameron!"
"No it won't! I'm going to be next to die because I'm the fucking oldest! I'm going to start puberty any day now and when I do I'm going to die and there's nothing I can do to stop it! I hate you!"
Harry shared a grim look with Ron. What could you say to that? You couldn't comfort Cameron because the words were truthful. You couldn't deny them. You also couldn't really correct the bad language because really? What was the point?
As defeatist as it was there wasn't much point. They had tried everything and there was nothing they could do except wait. Wait for help or wait for death.
Notes: I recognise that puberty usually starts long before a person reaches 13, however some children do have delayed development. More specifically, children who are very sporty (eg Gymnasts) have delayed puberty because of their sports. This is true for Cameron.