Chapter 111 – Wild Magic
Albus glared right back at the Minister.
Stark did not know what to make of this exchange of glares. He sensed that this was not something that concerned him, so with a small cough, he offered "Well, I'd best be back to my duties." With a slight bow to each, he added "Minister, Headmaster," and he followed the assistant out of the office.
"Amelia, no spell of mine harmed anyone. If we assume that King Louis and the Rakshasha Shah and his son met their ends because of magic, it is entirely their own doing. My intention spell merely reflects back what had been intended by them in the use of an intermediary. Henri Clovis tried to kill Severus Snape by giving him a gift of poisoned wine; actually, when Severus said he would share the wine with all the adults at Mrs. Longbottom's class, there would have been at least two dozen deaths directly attributable to that poison, including my own. If we attribute Louis' untimely death to other than an unfortunate coincidence, it would follow that Henri was acting on Louis' instructions."
The old witch was still glaring, but Albus thought that some of the fire had gone out of her eyes. She was savvy enough to understand that these attacks on Severus had implications beyond just someone trying to kill the one man.
Albus continued. "All we know right now is that Shah and his son have died, which might have nothing at all to do with anything that just happened here in the Ministry. However, again, if we suspect that their passing at this particular time is not just a very unfortunate coincidence, this "Mr. Smith" somehow breached the security of the British Ministry of Magic, killed one of your Department Heads, and sent a Killing Curse through a crowded reception room where it might have easily killed any number of people, including you, Madam Minister – at their direction! How can you have any sympathy for them?"
Amelia drew a shaky breath. "But, Albus, the political implications of any British wizard having any connection to the deaths of sitting monarchs!"
"Nonsense," Albus insisted, now annoyed himself. "Again, assuming my intention spell had anything to do with either case, no British wizard's spell harmed those people. The harm came only from their own instructions to their intermediaries, to kill a British wizard, on British soil! They were killed when the spell directed back to them what they had intended to befall a British wizard. They are entirely and exclusively responsible for what happened to them."
Albus was starting to lose his patience that Amelia was not immediately embracing the sense of outrage he would have expected from the British Minister of Magic over these events. She was action-oriented, so it might help to give her some next steps to consider. "On balance, I would definitely rather that no one try to kill Severus. Far beyond my spell, you've seen what Harry thinks of attempts on Severus' life; all this wandless magic isn't good for the boy. If you think any of those who seek Severus' death for their own ends would be dissuaded from that by knowing that sending agents to assassinate Severus would lead to their own deaths, by all means, let's get the word out. The message must, of course, be carefully worded; we don't, after all, have any definitive proof that the intention spell was involved in any way with what happened to Louis or the Shahs and I would not want to damage international relations by suggesting that either was involved in such a plot against anyone."
Albus could tell that Amelia was now coming around to seeing this, if not from his exact perspective, at least from a political perspective. The glare was gone, and a thoughtful, calculating look replaced it.
"I do see your point, Albus," she began to ponder aloud. "Attacks on British wizards, on British soil – yes, definitely, who could argue? I will, of course, have to attend whatever memorial services are arranged in India for the Shahs, as I did for Louis. My speaking about this spell myself – that's going to be too suggestive. Isn't Augusta Longbottom still writing articles for the Daily Prophet? Might we be able to plant a question about the use of protective spells, and have her drop in some information about intention spells as a class?"
Albus smiled, glad that his old ally had come around. "She is, indeed. Excellent idea! Actually, most of those articles are written by Hermione Granger, Mr. Potter's good friend." Given Amelia's amusing habit of perking up so when Harry's name was dropped, why not give Hermione a boost in the woman's eyes by connecting her to Harry? It was true, anyway. "I'll ask Miss Granger to frame a question broadly enough to cover a few different types of protective spells. Not right away, but we can eventually let slip that I placed such a spell on certain people at Hogwarts."
The Minister seemed satisfied with that. "A shame about the Shahs. Quite a tragedy, I'm sure. I'll certainly be relieved if we have fewer attempts on Lord Snape's life, and I have fewer memorial services to attend."
X X X X X X X X X X
Severus was in a complete state of agitation when Harry finally got to him in the Ministry's infirmary. It seemed to Harry that he might have tried to hex one of the mediwizards, if his wand was handy. He was glaring, harrumphing, and generally being as uncooperative as possible. It finally occurred to Harry that appealing to his bondmate's intense desire to get out of the infirmary might be just the thing to get him to calm down and be a bit less argumentative.
Harry sat on the edge of the bed on which Severus had been placed, and tentatively took his hand in his own as he whispered conspiratorially. "Severus, the Headmaster asked Madam Pomfrey to get you and me back to Hogwarts as soon as possible. They are making a portkey right now, and she'll be taking you out of here as soon as it's ready."
That did not have quite the impact Harry was hoping for.
"I don't need a portkey. I am quite capable of using the floo network," was the testy reply. Madam Pomfrey was standing nearby and overheard the statement, delivered as it was in a voice much louder than a whisper.
"Your magic was nearly blown apart, Severus, so there is no way we are going to let you travel on anything but a medical-grade portkey. It will be here momentarily." The tone of the mediwitch's voice made it clear that her statement ended that discussion.
She stepped closer, and bent down a bit to inspect his face a bit more carefully. "How is your head feeling? You had a nasty blow to the head when you fell – sometimes, even after we repair the bone and heal any bruising, an injury like that can still cause a lingering pain. Do you need a pain potion? It might help calm you a bit, as well."
He continued to look very aggrieved, but both Madam Pomfrey and Harry noticed that Severus did not actually decline the offer. She reached into a pocket in the folds of her robe and extracted a small vial. After verifying that it was the desired pain potion, one of Severus' own, in fact, she handed it over. Severus offered a nod of thanks and when he had also verified that it was a pain potion that he himself had brewed, he uncapped the vial and drank it down. He relaxed down into a pillow, his face still pale amid the mussed black hair. Harry realized that Severus must have been in some discomfort from the easing of the tension from his face.
Harry just sat and held Severus' hand lightly in his own, probably more for his own reassurance than anything, if he thought about what he was doing. Finally, a harried-looking mediwizard, presumably the one who missed diagnosing Severus' fractured skull, appeared with an official-looking parchment. He offered it to Madam Pomfrey, who accepted it in frosty silence and read it over to be sure it was in order.
"Thank you, Mr. Eccles, this will be fine," she said as she looked over the parchment and dismissed its bearer with a distracted wave of her hand. Turning to the two wizards on the bed, she went on. "I will accompany Professor Snape with the portkey, and Mr. Potter, you will take the floo. I assume that you can return to the Headmaster's office directly from here?" she asked Harry.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm awful with portkeys, anyway. The floo in Remus' offices is linked to the Headmaster's office, so I'll be fine."
Madam Pomfrey wasn't finished with Harry, though. "And when you get back to Hogwarts, I want you to come to the Infirmary straight away, young man. I heard about yet another demonstration of wandless magic from you today! At your age! This is becoming far too regular an occurrence, and we need to check you over to be sure that you haven't already started to damage yourself."
Mr. Eccles sidled out the door, feeling somewhat better about the dressing-down he'd gotten from Madam Pomfrey. If she spoke to the king of the wizarding world like that, the scolding he'd gotten from her was infinitely easier to bear.
Before she activated the portkey that had been charmed into the parchment, Madam Pomfrey assured herself that an Auror would escort Harry to Remus' office, because, as she explained it, "With all the hooligans about today, I want to be sure he gets back to Hogwarts in one piece." A junior Auror was quite willing to provide the escort, so Madam Pomfrey activated the portkey and accompanied her patient back to Hogwarts.
Harry arrived in the Headmaster's office just a short while after Albus himself had returned, just as Albus appeared to be stirring a memory into his Pensieve.
"Sorry to interrupt, sir," Harry offered as he stumbled out of the floo and tripped over the carpet. "Madam Pomfrey took Severus back to the Infirmary by portkey, and told me I am to get there myself as soon as I got back to Hogwarts." Harry hesitated for a moment, seeming to debate whether to pose a question. He finally took a breath and asked. "I I may ask, sir, how did your conversation with the Minister go? About the intention spell?"
Albus put his arm around Harry's shoulders and directed him to a chair near his desk. "We have a moment for a quick word, Harry; we'll take my floo to the Infirmary. I want to check up on Severus myself."
Once they were settled in their chairs and Harry had declined the offer of a lemon drop, Albus gave him a short version of his visit with the Minister. "She was not aware of the spell I'd cast here. It was clear that she had never seen any connection between the passing of Louis XXIII and the attempt to poison people here at Hogwarts. We, of course, have no proof connecting my spell to these events, so we need to tread carefully. We agreed that I will ask your Miss Granger to come up with a good question about protective spells for the column she is writing with Mrs. Longbottom, and work in some information about intention spells. At some future point, we'll find a way to mention that I'd used a spell like that to protect people at Hogwarts. Minister Bones was very concerned that we not create any kind of international incident or discord with any suggestion that a spell I used here brought about the death of any foreign rulers. We can't actually prove their involvement, in any case."
Harry caught the use of the plural immediately. "Has it happened again?"
Albus was impressed and a bit pleased that Harry made that connection as quickly as he did. With a small shrug, he replied, "We don't know. The Aurors are making some progress on the matter of today's would-be assassin – they know how he got into the Ministry, and into the reception. They don't yet know who he really is, or whether he was working as an agent for anyone. However, the Ministry of Magic did learn of the tragic passing today of the ruler of wizarding India and his son. No details at all are available as yet."
Harry was silent for a moment. His maudlin tally of the dead included many who had sided against him. He counted the deaths of many Death Eaters when he reflected on the people for whose deaths he felt responsible in some way. It occurred to him that he had not once considered Louis XXIII's death as one for which he may be responsible. He'd never even asked about whether anyone lost their life after the wandless spell he had cast at the Ministry when he found Severus and Sirius dueling. Nor had he ever even thought until this minute about the fate of the assassin today, let alone the possibility that there was a wizard or two behind the attack today who may now be dead as well. Did that make him a bad person? He felt a flicker of worry inside, but pushed it aside. Later, he'd ask Severus about this. He trusted Severus to be honest with him.
With a small sigh, Harry ended his reverie and focused again on the Headmaster, who seemed to understand in some way the internal conflict that Harry was feeling. He nodded in that sage, knowing way he had, as he pushed himself from his chair and walked over to the large fireplace, gesturing with his arm for Harry to join him.
"Come along, Harry, let us check in on Severus. If he is still in the mood he was back at the Ministry, I am sure Poppy will appreciate our intervention!"
Harry smiled as he refocused his thoughts on his bondmate, and he moved quickly. He was sure the Headmaster was right about Severus.
Down in the Infirmary, Severus was indeed giving Madam Pomfrey a very bad time.
Harry and Albus arrived to find the two squaring off over one of the Infirmary beds, Severus standing and seething on one side as the diminutive witch, arms folded across her ample bosom, stood her ground on the other. On the bed between them were two potion vials. While it was clear that Madam Pomfrey was trying to avoid disturbing others, her voice could be heard when they were still a dozen beds away from them.
"Severus Snape, there is no way I am releasing you! Your body and your magic have both undergone major traumas today, and it is essential that you allow them time to recover!"
Albus intervened before Severus could respond.
"Now, now, Severus, Poppy, let's continue this conversation in your office," he suggested, gesturing to Madam Pomfrey's small office, which was expanding as he spoke, with two additional chairs appearing around her desk. Severus and Madam Pomfrey exchanged glares that would have shamed Albus and Minister Bones' weak efforts earlier that afternoon, as Albus gently herded them and Harry into the privacy of the mediwitch's office, sweeping up the two potions vials as he passed the bed .
After getting everyone seated, Albus took over the conversation, losing the grandfatherly twinkle in his eye as he gave his staff stern looks.
"There is too much to do to allow time to be lost to silly bickering. Severus, I understand that you do not wish an extended stay in the Infirmary. We do desperately need you elsewhere, but you must be healthy. Poppy, given the events of the day, I am concerned about how people will react to Severus' disappearance from public view right now. I don't want rumors to start, as I'm sure you appreciate."
He put the two vials he had taken off the bed onto the desk in front of them.
"I recognize the pain potion, one you've brewed for me, Severus," he continued. "I cannot fathom your unwillingness to consume that. You do look a bit pinched, so I'm assuming there is some residual pain from your rather eventful day." Albus looked at Severus, clearly expecting some sort of response.
"I have no reluctance to consume a pain potion, of course" was the clipped response. "It is the other potion to which I object."
Albus checked the label on the offending vial. It was a sleeping draught, and as it bore the familiar scrawling script, marking it as one of Severus' own manufacture. Albus quirked his eyebrow at Severus, silently requesting an explanation.
"That is the most powerful sedative I brew, excepting of course the Draught of Living Death. I will be totally unconscious for at least a full day with the dose Madam Pomfrey proposes. I am feeling quite well enough now to continue what is left of my day. I have suggested that I consume a Dreamless Sleep potion before bed, so I will get a good, restorative sleep tonight, but I feel no need to render myself senseless for 24 hours."
As much as it pained him, Albus had to agree with Severus. If he was capable of putting up this much resistance, he was probably strong enough to recover with just sound sleep at night, not a potion-induced coma. He did not want to create a rift with his mediwitch, however.
"Poppy, I'm afraid that there are events about which I need to confer with Severus, that cannot wait a day. May I propose a compromise? Severus will take the pain potion now and follow the schedule for it that you recommend." Severus nodded as Albus expected; compliance with Madam Pomfrey's schedule for pain potion use would not be an issue for him.
"I will escort Severus now to my office, while you examine young Harry. He can join us in my office after you are through, and we'll go to dinner. After dinner, Harry will accompany Severus back to their rooms, and be sure that Severus takes a full dose of Dreamless Sleep and retires early enough to get a full ten hours of sleep tonight. If necessary, we can follow that regimen for the next several days, so Severus does get adequately rested and restored. If he experiences any problems at all, he will report immediately to you for treatment, which might then require his stay in the Infirmary."
There were nods all around at that. Harry was happy for the chance to take care of Severus, who was primarily focused on getting out of the Infirmary and quite willing to trade a commitment to submit to care if needed in the future in exchange for his freedom right now. Poppy realized all along that her chances of getting Severus to take the sleeping potion were slim, and getting the man to agree to a potion-assured ten hours of sleep tonight was a perfectly acceptable outcome.
Severus drank down the pain potion right there in Poppy's office and returned the empty vial to her, and stood to accompany the Headmaster to his office. Severus was about to head to the door for the walk through the castle, when Albus touched his sleeve. "The floo, please, Severus."
With a quirk of his eyebrow, Severus nodded and headed instead to the fireplace, and he and Albus disappeared in the green flames of the floo.
Madam Pomfrey hustled Harry off to one of the beds, got him comfortable, and proceeded to wave her wand over him, a process they'd both been through many times before. This time, though, the witch had a look of concern on her face for most of the time that she was with Harry. Something wasn't right, but it was difficult to pin down.
X X X X X X X X X X
Up in the Headmaster's office, Albus and Severus were seated in chairs near Albus' desk, with the Pensieve on the desk between them. Albus paused just a second to collect his thoughts, and consider the points he needed to make.
"Severus, we nearly had a catastrophe this afternoon with Harry."
The younger wizard looked at him in alarm, and choked out a question. "Was he in danger from the Killing Curse?"
"No, no, the Curse wasn't anywhere near him. He was in no danger from that. And while I am worried about these displays of wandless magic, we both know that there are potions available to address any damage to magical pathways in the body; Poppy will have that sorted out in no time. It was Harry's magic. After he sent that pulse of wandless magic, he was not in control of his magic – it was pulsing and traveling around the outside of his body, like lightening roaming across his skin. It was terrifying. I think if someone had touched him at all while he was in that state, they would have been killed. Fortunately, it lasted for just a few seconds and I believe that I am the only one who witnessed it. I was able to speak to him, get him focused on you and the fact that you needed him, and as he walked along and focused, he was finally able to assume control of himself."
Severus looked horrified, but not because of the scene that Albus had described. His mind went back to a conversation he'd had with Harry, shortly after they'd dealt with his synesthesia by extracting the memory of his encounter with the Elder Demon from Harry's mind. Harry had pled with Severus then: "You won't let me hurt anyone I love." Harry had feared going mad as he assumed Voldemort had from the constant images or afterimages of the horrors he confronted. Was it possible that he might become the destructive force he so feared from the simple loss of control of his magic? And what did he expect Severus to do about that?
Albus was still speaking. "I extracted my memory of what I saw this afternoon. It's in the Pensieve. I'd like you to look. I am hoping there is something we can do to help Harry exert the control he needs, whether through a potion or perhaps some special training. I have a few thoughts, but want your input, Severus."
Severus gulped visibly at the suggestion. Viewing memories in a Pensieve was not something he ever did willingly. He found the sensation of falling into the memory vertiginous and it usually left him nauseous, even before one factored in that the images one went to see were almost always disturbing in their own right.
However, this was for Harry.
He stood and leaned over the Pensieve, gently stirring the memory that glistened just below the surface, and allowing its magic to reach out to him and bring him down, down, down through the void into the scene itself. His mind landed roughly on the marble floor of the Ministry, where he stole a quick look at himself, lying pale and immobile. He saw Albus staring with horror and followed his line of sight.
Oh, Merlin!
Harry was, indeed, frightening. Put aside the wild hair – that wasn't unusual at all. It was the magic. It looked like a lightening bolt had come to reside inside Harry, and it was coursing, sparking, all over his body, even jumping in ragged beams between the young man's fingers. He'd never seen anything like that, and while he was horrified, he could not turn away. He heard Albus' voice, as did Harry, and he heard Albus trying to get Harry to focus on his voice, and walk slowly over to where he, Severus, lay unconscious on the floor. Harry started to move, slowly at first, but as it appeared that his mind asserted control, as he focused more on Albus' voice, his stride became more purposeful, and the sparking of the magic began to ebb.
Severus watched a very scared Headmaster extend his hand to Harry as he drew near. It had never occurred to Severus that Albus had physical bravery like that – the old man did not hesitate to reach out. Severus could see clearly in Harry's eyes the point that he took control of himself; the eyes changed, the magic sparking stopped, and Harry took Albus' hand firmly, and he approached Severus and knelt down next to him.
It was only then that there were any sounds of motion or of the others in the room, stirring finally to see what had happened. He saw the two Aurors moving away from them, one to the assassin and one to secure the room. Neither seemed to have looked at all at Harry, Severus or the Headmaster.
The memory ended and Severus was propelled back to himself, where he staggered somewhat and caught himself on the edge of the Headmaster's desk.
The look of horror and distress on Severus' face confirmed to Albus that he'd seen what Albus had seen. He guided Severus into a chair, and gave the man a minute to collect himself, producing a cup of mint tea that he suspected would be needed to calm Severus' stomach.
Finally, Severus felt that his hands had stopped shaking enough to enable him to take a sip of the tea, and begin the conversation he knew he needed to have with the Headmaster.
"I've never seen anything like that, Albus. Your thoughts?"
Albus looked sadder than Severus had ever seen him look, piquing his interest.
"Actually, I have seen this before. My sister, Ariana, lost control of her magic when she was six years old, after a very unfortunate incident with some young muggles in the neighborhood. Whenever she got upset, Ariana's magic would pulse and spark like Harry's just did. My family didn't want her taken away to St. Mungos, so we kept her hidden away. My mother and brother were her main caretakers, as I was at school already. When my mother died, I tried to care for her myself so Alberforth could stay at school. That summer, there was a fight among my brother, Gellert Grindelwald, and me; Ariana became upset and sent out pulses of uncontrolled magic. We never knew exactly what happened, but she was killed in the fighting. She was just fourteen."
For once, Severus' features were not schooled into an unreadable mask. He was plainly reeling from that story, and its possible implications for Harry.
"Not to worry, at least not as much as you are, my dear boy. The ten years age difference between Ariana then and Harry now is critical, I believe. He's a fully trained wizard and will be able to participate in steps to control his magic, where Ariana was completely at the mercy of her magic when this started for her. By the time Ariana was old enough to understand what was going on and might have been able to do something to control her magic, her magic was too far gone."
Albus rose and began to pace, to bleed off some of the nervousness he felt.
"No, the thing that worries me is the impact of others knowing about this, and the fear it will engender. The amount of magic that Harry has is fearsome enough, even when it is under his complete control and being used for benevolent purposes. If images such as the one you just saw appeared on the cover of the Daily Prophet - - well. Who knows?"
As he spoke, Albus removed his wand from his sleeve, and with a wave of it, the memory in the Pensieve disappeared.
"That image is gone. Just you and I have seen it. I do not believe either Darmut or Stark looked at Harry in the wake of what happened today. They both jumped to protect the people at the reception from the assassin, so their focus went immediately elsewhere. I also don't believe that any of the portraits had a good line of sight to Harry; I suspect that they all ducked, just like the witches and wizards did. That leaves just the house elves who were assisting at the reception, and since only Harry or I ever speak to them, it is very unlikely that they'd be asked even if they did see something. And, of course, everyone else fell to the ground immediately when Harry yelled."
With a look so serious directed to Severus that it made him squirm, Albus finished his thought. "We need to help Harry get control of this right away. His wandless bursts are well-known and the general populace will be as sympathetic to this one as they were to the last, given that they were his reaction to a direct attack on his bondmate. If people saw the kind of loss of control that could harm them, not just wrongdoers, there will be no sympathy, just fear. If the general public sees what you and I just saw, Harry will be forced to go away, for his own and others' safety. We need him – his leadership, his magical strength, his valor, to win the fight against Voldemort. If he is forced into seclusion, all will be lost."
Severus drew on his years of exposure to the Dark Lord: he suppressed his own emotions, and forced his mind to focus clearly on the problem at hand. With a calming breath, he began to sift through what he knew about potions that strengthened magical control.
Severus did not get far with his mental inventory before he and Albus were interrupted by the arrival of Madam Pomfrey with Harry in tow. She looked upset, but then again, she had looked even more upset earlier when arguing with Severus. Harry looked sheepish, almost embarrassed.
"Headmaster, Professor Snape, I've completed my workup on Mr. Potter, and we need to discuss the findings. Normally, I'd do this privately with Mr. Potter, but he told me that he is very comfortable with including the two of you, and meeting together will save him having to repeat it all to you later. A discussion will all of us present thus seems quite appropriate, under the circumstances."
She shooed Harry over to a chair, took one herself, and waited for the Headmaster and Severus to similarly be seated. All eyes were on her, some warier than others.
"Physically, Mr. Potter is fine, no health concerns at all. His problems are all magical."
Madam Pomfrey looked at the two older wizards to be sure they understood her, and noticed that they both seemed to have expected that statement from her.
"His magical pathways are actually quite strong; Mr. Potter is a magical adult in that regards. This is not a matter of his needing time to mature. For the most part. The ends of the pathways are frayed, no doubt the result of the bursts he's been sending out. I've never encountered anyone with the level of magic that Mr. Potter has within him. I see a potential for spillover – he seems to have more magic than could flow through his pathways. I am assuming that we want to keep this very confidential, so I've not initiated any consultation with the staffs at St. Mungo's or elsewhere. But we do need to consider what we can do to possibly expand his capacity to control his magic so it always goes through the magical pathways that exist to channel it, and then to strengthen the ends of the pathways against the damage caused by these occasional outbursts."
Severus leaned back in his chair, appraising the school's mediwitch. He'd always regarded her a very competent at what she did, but she really captured what was going on with Harry, by his estimation. The fraying of the ends of his magical pathways was totally expected, given the bursts of wandless magic, and there were potions to assist with that, so he dismissed that problem.
Of course, a young man whose power resulted in his acknowledgement as the king of the wizarding world at age 16 would have an extraordinarly large amount of magic within him. The concept of "magical spillage" – what a strange way to put it, but on reflection, that's what he saw in Albus' memory. Magic got out, but not as it should have, through one of the pathways in Harry's body. It spilled out all over him. No simple potion would fix this, but there were exercises and possibly a charm or two that might help Harry control this. Would it be possible to expand his magical pathways, as well?
Albus was thinking along the same lines. Spillage – exactly. He was confident that he and Severus would be able to come up with something to help Harry keep his magic flowing properly. He leaned back, with a very satisfied smile on his face.
"Ah, Poppy, I believe you have provided exactly the information we needed. We expected that Harry had done some damage to the ends of his magical pathways; uncontrolled bursts of wandless magic almost always do that. Harry, I will start working with you now on the use of wandless magic. It's normally not something we'd consider for anyone under 30 or 40, but you are clearly a special case. I suspect helping you harness your and channel it wandlessly will be better for you in the long run than holding off on using this skill until you are older. I'd like to discuss this more with Severus, but I suspect that when you and your magic are comfortable acting without a wand on a more regular basis, the process of channeling your magic into your pathways will be more controlled, too."
Harry cast a nervous look at Severus, and was relieved to see him nodding in agreement with the Headmaster. He had been very worried that he'd be told he had to stop doing wandless magic, which was hard when he actually had no idea how it happened to start with.
Albus continued. "We do, of course, appreciate your not contacting St. Mungos. Anything to do with Harry, or Severus for that matter, is to be kept as confidential as possible, and that means within Hogwarts unless there is some extremely compelling reason to ask for help from other sources." The mediwitch nodded; that was exactly how she had planned to approach this.
"I've provided you with vials of a potion that heals the fraying of the ends of the magical pathways, Poppy," Severus pointed out. Inevitably, there was a first year student or two who had difficulty working with his or her wand and misdirected their magic, so there was always a need for that potion to fix the fraying before it became a serious problem. "Have you dosed Harry?"
She nodded. "I've already given him a dose and will check him for the next several days and provide more if necessary."
Severus nodded in agreement. "Thank you. Harry, the Headmaster and I will discuss it, but while he works with you on using and managing wandless magic, I can work with you on some exercises to focus on controlling the initial surge of magic."
Harry smiled in relief, and relaxed a bit back into his chair. He'd been worried about that. He did not know exactly what happened to him, but after the burst of wandless magic today, he knew he'd felt funny for several minutes. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he could not erase the memory of the look of horror on the Headmaster's face as the old man called him over to Severus' fallen shape; he'd just seen this out of the corner of his eye, but that was definitely horror and it was directed at him – he was what scared the Headmaster. And he remembered seeing something that looked like electricity jumping between his fingers. It didn't hurt, but it certainly wasn't normal. It sounded like Severus and the Headmaster would be able to help him.
A light clap of his hands, as if in glee, brought everyone's attention back to Albus. "Well done, all! Madam Pomfrey, you've helped us solve the puzzle of Harry's condition. Severus, Harry, you boys need a night to rest. Tomorrow morning, Severus and I will discuss a regimen of exercises and whatever other approaches we feel should be used to help you control that initial flow of magic, and we'll work up a schedule for him to work on those with you and for me to begin to school you in wandless magic. In the meantime, dinner awaits, and I've got it on good authority that the dessert will be a most excellent treacle tart!"
The three professors entered as usual through the door near the Head Table, and a solid murmur arose when Severus was spotted walking along with the Headmaster. Harry used the student's entrance in the back of the room, and was able to get to his usual seat between Ron and Hermione with little notice as everyone was craning their necks for a look at Severus.
Copies of the special afternoon edition of the Daily Prophet were strewn across the table, and the headline on the front page explained the great interest in Severus' appearance: Attack at Ministry – Potter Bondmate Slain?
Hermione reacted immediately when Harry gently pushed against her shoulder to scoot over a bit for him to sit. "Oh, Harry – what a relief to see Professor Snape!" That exclamation earned her looks of shock and disgust from the Gryffindors around her, but when the others saw that Harry had arrived, the focus moved to him.
Ron offered a good-natured pat on the back as Harry scrambled over the bench. "Glad you're alright, mate. Quite a scare to read that article. What really happened? Draco was there, and he wasn't so sure that the Prophet didn't get the story right."
"I'm probably not the best one to ask. I guess Draco told you about the presentation his father made to the Wizengamot. That went well. Then there was the award ceremony, which also went well. During the reception after the award ceremony, someone threw a Killing Curse at Severus. I was able to deflect it somewhat, but it glanced off him, and knocked him unconscious. Really, I spent all my time after that with Severus, trying to help him. I know that there were some Aurors in the room, and they sprang into action. I don't really know anything else. It turned out that Severus hit his head hard when he fell to the floor, so he was out cold for a while, but I think he and his magic are OK now."
Hermione cast an appraising eye at Harry. She, of course, had read the entire newspaper, not just the headline. There was a lengthy article about Mr. Malfoy's presentation at the Wizengamot, very complimentary. It described what she expected he would do with the task that Harry had given him, although she hoped someone with extensive knowledge of wizarding law was going to review all his proposals carefully, just in case. The presentation of the Order of Merlin, First Class, to Professor Snape was also reported on in a very complimentary article that seemed lifted from a press release, rather than by someone in attendance at the event. That wasn't surprising, given how private the event was to be.
The report about the reception itself seemed to have been based on much less reliable accounts, mostly interviews with people or portraits who had told the reporter that they'd seen something. The facts were not really consistent, or certainly not connected. There was mention of a Ministry official who had been killed, and some mention of an intruder, but no connection between the Ministry official, the intruder and the attack on the Professor. There was mention of the Killing Curse being thrown in the reception, but nothing definitive about what harm it caused, if it hit its mark, who it was directed toward, or of Harry's role, assuming he had one.
As he served himself from the large platters that had just appeared on the table, Harry noticed that Ron's freckles seemed darker and he and several of the others seemed a bit sunburned. It must have been a good day for flying. "It looks like you all go in some flying," he offered, to get the chatter focused on something other than the events at the Ministry. His friends were having none of it.
"My mum came back from the reception and Madam Pomfrey has confined her to her bed for a day to be sure she and the baby are OK," Ron went on, ignoring Harry's effort to change the subject. "Mum said you let loose with another burst of wandless magic, and splattered the guy who threw the Killing Curse against the wall in the reception room."
Hermione and Ginny, as well as a few of the other girls sitting in the area looked vaguely disgusted at that description, although Seamus seemed quite taken by it.
"Go on, then Harry, tell old Seamus – what did you do? Wandless?"
"Yeah, I guess I did send out some wandless magic. I have no idea how I did it. When I see something that really upsets me, like a Killing Curse heading toward Severus, it just happens. Like I said, I missed most of what went on after that. I apparently deflected the curse, and then I was focused on Severus. I pretty much know what the Headmaster told me about what happened. Your mum saw more than I did, Ron."
Harry wasn't quite the font of information they'd been hoping for, but the Gryffindors did accept that he'd told them what little he knew about the events of the day, so they returned their focus to the Daily Prophets strewn about, and continued on with their speculation.
Naturally, Hermione suspected that there was more, but she kept her thoughts to herself. If Harry did have more to say, the last place he'd say it was in front of this lot. She did have something to tell him, though, and she was quite confident that her fellow Gryffindors would not be tempted to eavesdrop. In a soft, conversational voice, she spoke to Harry.
"Well, you guessed how Ron and the others spent the afternoon. I was in the library, of course." At this point, it was safe to assume that everyone within earshot was going to tune her out on principle – the school year was over and the last place your average Gryffindor wanted to be was the library.
"I started researching that magical transference issue we had discussed. I found a bit more than I expected. The phenomenon is not unheard of, but it's hard to document because, let's face it, most people have magic pretty much like everyone else's, so there not much to suggest it even happened. But there were a few cases where something interesting did occur, so more attention was paid to the people involved. The mechanism isn't clearly understood, but I'd be glad to share what I found out so far, if you'd like," she offered, with an encouraging smile.
Harry had been mulling over what he'd learned in the Headmaster's office from Madam Pomfrey. Strictly speaking, that had nothing to do with the attack on Severus, per se, so he did not feel he'd actually lied to anyone with the answers he provided to their questions about what happened at the Ministry. There was clearly something jumble-y about his magic, though. Was it possible that there was a connection between his taking on the magic of others and this spillage problem?
"You know, Mione, I had a work-up with Madam Pomfrey after I got back from the Ministry this afternoon," he began tentatively. Hermione looked quite interested in this, so he continued. "Severus and the Headmaster were worried I was fraying the edges of my magical pathways or something like that. Would you, and Ron of course, be willing to come down to my rooms tonight? Just for a bit. I'd like to explain as best I can what seems to be happening. You might find something about it in the research you are doing, and I want to be sure you know what to look for. And I'd like for Severus to hear what you've found out, of course."
"Sure, Harry," she answered, clearly surprised by this invitation. She'd never actually been to Harry's rooms, and was interested for that reason alone. Why his rooms, though? There were lots of places around the castle where private conversations could occur, that would attract no attention and cause no comments. This was strange. She realized she wasn't even sure where the rooms were.
A treacle tart and an assortment of some less sweet dessert options appeared, and she and Harry made their selections as she considered how to get Ron separated from his friends so he could join her for this momentous visit.
Harry solved her problem by just asking Ron to step over to the stairs with him as the group left dinner a short while later. He followed along without question, and waved off their friends, promising they'd see them later. When Harry kept on walking down the stairs into the dungeons, Ron followed happily along. It wasn't until they were at the foot of the stairs that Harry finally explained what they were doing.
"Ron, Hermione was doing some research about magical transference for me." It was clear from the looks on their faces that Hermione had told Ron all about this, and he was at best vaguely aware that she had a special research project. Harry knew better than to make any issue about this, or he and Ron would both be subject to Hermione's scolding, probably about Ron not listening to her. He quickly closed that opening by continuing.
"I actually think I have a bigger problem than just a burst of wandless magic today, but I'm not sure I know enough about it. I don't have secrets from you two. Madam Pomfrey discussed whatever this is with Severus and the Headmaster, and I want you to know about it. I'm hoping that Hermione's research might uncover something about this, so I especially want her to know. Do you mind if we go to my rooms, and wait for Severus? He's supposed to come straight back here after dinner, so I doubt we'll have much of a wait, and he can fill in what I don't know. And Hermione can tell us about what she's finding out."
It was one thing to pay a visit to Harry's rooms with Harry, but quite another to be there at the same time as Professor Snape. Hermione, always the seeker of knowledge, would endure far worse than Severus Snape to learn a new fact, so this was just fine with her. Ron, on the other hand, looked quite stricken. It was too late to bolt – he certainly did not want to leave Hermione on her own in Slytherin territory, so he seemed (and looked) trapped.
Harry smiled at the look on Ron's face as he led his two friends along corridors that were now quite familiar to him, and were clearly unfamiliar territory to them. He spoke the password to the portrait guarding the door to their rooms, and nodded, rather than reply in Parseltongue to Salazar's greeting. Even though Ron and Hermione had heard him speak Parseltongue before, he was always careful to avoid it when he could; he really hated the looks he usually got when he spoke it in front of most others.
It was clear from the darkness and slight chill in the air that Severus wasn't back yet – he always put a small fire in the grate, and usually left a sconce burning in the sitting room when he returned after dinner. Harry did the honors instead, and had a house elf bring them some after-dinner teas.
Hermione looked ready to burst with curiosity. He was sure she'd love to see the rooms, and would probably be thrilled to see the library. Ron looked too terrified to move. Playing the host, Harry offered a brief tour. "The rooms surprised me when I first moved in. I guess I always imagined that the rooms down here would look like prison cells or something. This room is pretty nice, no? You need the fire most nights to ward off the chill, but otherwise, it's very comfortable. We have a small kitchen, a library, and a potions lab, as well as a bedroom and bath, of course."
The kitchen seemed safe, so he started there, herding Hermione and Ron along. The two stood at the entrance, just peeking into the kitchen, like it was an exhibit in a muggle museum. Next stop was the library. Harry opened the doors leading to the small room, and Hermione duly poked her head in, seemingly influenced by Ron to be as unobtrusive as possible. Harry took a full step into the library, and gestured for both of them to follow.
"Severus has always said that these are my rooms as much as his. I admit, I haven't been very social about anything, but still, I live here and you are here as my guests. Come, see the library!" Harry cajoled them. With tentative steps, Hermione did. "Most of the books are Severus', of course, so mostly we have Potions journals and books, but it's a nice room."
Hermione conducted a quick survey and hastily retreated back to the sitting room. "It is nice and cozy, Harry, but it doesn't look like it's used often."
Harry wondered what tipped her off, but she was right. "We usually sit out here, if Severus is reading or just grading papers. There are some desks we can use here, and that way, we each have company." Ron looked horrified at the description of a quiet night at the Snape-Potter's. "If Severus has brewing to do, he does that in his lab. I have a desk in there, behind wards, if I want to just be in there with him doing my work while he does his."
The trio took seats in chairs around the fire place, and had just served themselves tea when the door opened.
Severus was treated to a sight had hoped he'd never see – Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger making themselves at home on his sofa.