Chapter 29: The Search Continues
A/N: The continuation of the rock opera subplot and several other bits were contributed by collaborator Very Small Prophet and are much appreciated.
PS: Sorry this chapter took so long, but life has been hectic. I'll try to do better, but no guarantees.
"Anyways…" Madison began again.
Marigold winced; that was ungrammatical even in American English.
"… the rock opera is about this kid, the Half-Blood Prince – he's not really a prince, he's kind of a geek. Not good-looking but totally brilliant – a genius at potions like it says in the song, and he invents spells, too – but there are these four jocks – rich purebloods – who are always bullying him because they say half-bloods like him shouldn't exist …"
"You know, racists," said Holly, "like those neo-Nazis you people just had the war with. The Death-whatevers."
"Death Eaters," Marigold said.
"Yeah," Madison continued. "So these junior Death Eaters are always attacking him, like, four-to-one, and they can ambush him anywhere because they have this invisibility cloak and this magic map –"
"It's a universal surveillance tool, " Holly broke in. "Perfect for spies."
"– so there's nowhere to hide –"
Holly added, "Their keyboard player said she's working on a song called 'Nowhere to Hide' but it's not finished yet."
Darkness asked, "Didn't you say they tried to feed him to a werewolf?"
Holly said, "It was an Animagus."
"It was a werewolf," said Madison. "There were Animaguses in it, but it was a werewolf they tried to feed him to."
"Animagi," Marigold murmured.
Madison continued, "But he invents this totally awesome spell called 'Sever Forever' that works even against werewolves, and he's, like, cutting the werewolf to pieces when the Number One Bully shows up in his Animagus form and pretends to rescue him –"
"That's where the Animagus comes in," Holly said.
Her sister continued as if she hadn't spoken, "– so he can claim this completely fake life debt –"
"You still have life debts in England?" Mysteria asked the two Slytherins. "Don't try it here. They're against the Constitution. It's in the Bill of Rights or something."
Jules wisely ignored the issue of American wizarding constitutional law. "Weren't the teachers or the headmaster doing anything while all this was going on?" He glanced at Marigold. They both had a pretty good idea what the teachers and headmaster were doing.
"The headmaster was on their side," said Holly. "The bullies, I mean. He let them get away with everything. He was one of those bigoted Death-guys, too, I guess."
"Oh, that wasn't the only reason he liked them," Madison smirked. "Listen to this." She began to re-wind the tape player, looking for the right place.
While Madison was fiddling with the tape, Marigold asked, "So what happened to the Prince? Did he defeat the bullies?"
"Nah," said Holly. "It's an opera, you know, so it's, like, tragic. He doesn't get killed or anything, but the head bully steals his girl and fools everyone into thinking he's a big hero even though he's really a complete jerk. But eventually all the bullies get killed off because of their own stupidity. And the Prince gets the best music, of course."
"Here it is," said Madison. "It's going to be the B-side of the 'Half-Blood Prince' song we played before, sung by the old headmaster, who's, like, totally creepy."
"Pretty boys, / My lovely, lion-hearted pretty boys…"
The American girls swayed to the music, and the two Slytherins listened quietly. Mysteria said, "Hey, Darkness, you know who should hear this? Fawkes's friend Mr Slade. He's from England, too. He'll like it."
Jules and Marigold stared at each other with expressions of horror. Jules said quietly, "He'll go spare."
Marigold nodded. "Hurricane Severus."
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"He's out cold and completely exhausted," Arusha told Proctor as she passed her wand over Severus. "Completely. I've never seen anything quite like it. I have to know more before I can be sure how well he'll recover."
She turned away and walked down the ward to Saunders, who was the only other patient at the moment. He was sitting up in bed, nursing a mug of hot chocolate laced with brandy. He had suffered a few burns and an emotional trauma; burn paste had dealt with the former and hot chocolate would help sooth the latter, but Arusha needed to know what had happened to her other patient.
"It was mystical gateway," Saunders explained, "into another reality, and there were powerful, evil things on the other side that wanted to come through. Mr Slade poured an enormous amount of power into a spell against them." He put the mug of chocolate down. "You should have seen it!" he said with enthusiasm approaching awe. "He cast Fiendfyre! Real Fiendfyre! He looked like a demon, silhouetted against the flames. He was furious and poured all of his rage into the spell, but he never lost control of it. The things on the other side slammed the gateway shut with so much force that the shack exploded!"
"Hmmm," Arusha said. "Then probably what he needs is a good rest – for his mind even more than his body. I'll make up some of my special medicinal mushroom tea for him. That will help him sleep, and give him lovely dreams to ease his mind."
Doctor Proctor poured more brandy into Saunders' hot chocolate. "It sounds like you know a lot about those gateways," he said.
Saunders looked uneasy. "Well, yeah," he answered. "When I was little, I was kidnapped by some evil wizards who wanted to use me in their horrific rituals. They eventually managed to open a gateway that they believed would bring them power, but they couldn't control it. They said they needed a sacrifice in order to close it, so they were going to kill me, but then a group of Agents broke in to rescue me. One of the kidnappers got killed in the fight, and I guess that counted as the sacrifice, because the gateway closed."
"What made you think opening that particular gateway would draw in the Dementors?"
"It was something I overheard the kidnappers say, about how those creatures craved dark, depressing things, so I thought they'd want the Dementors. And they did. It worked!"
"Yes, it did work," Doc said, "but it was kind of like using a shovel to swat flies. I don't think you should try that again."
"I just wanted to help," Saunders said sadly. "Do you think there are other realities with good things in them, or are they all full of monsters?"
The old man thought for a moment. "I don't really know – no one does," he said, "but if the muggles are right, there could be an infinite number of other realities. I suppose there could be just as many good ones as bad ones, and probably lots of mediocre ones, too. It's best not to go looking for 'em, though. You never know what you might unleash."
"Yeah," Saunders said, "I see your point."
Proctor returned to Arusha, who was casting another diagnostic spell on Severus. "So it's just exhaustion, then?" he asked. "He didn't take any harm from the beings on the other side of the gateway?"
"No, but I bet they took harm from him. I did Priori Incantatem on his wand. He didn't just call up a spark of Fiendfyre and let it run wild; any third-rate conjure-man can do that. He was generating it in a continuous stream and forcing it through that gateway. Whatever world is on the other side of that gate had better have a good magical fire department."
She gave her wand a twist, and a network of colors appeared. "Look at the depth of his magical core. He drained a lot of it, but it's already starting to build back up."
She cancelled the spell and smiled at her husband. "And take a look at his nose," she said. "The size of the nose is a surefire indicator of a wizard's power, they say." She winked at her husband.
"That it is, sweetie pie," Proctor said. He tapped his substantial nose and smiled at her, just like he used to do when he was wooing her in back on the 1870s. "That it is."
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"I think the storm is dying down now," Harry said as he watched the muddy water surging against the spell that protected the school. The rain and wind were still hammering against the spell, but they seemed to have less force than before.
"It's a good thing we don't have hurricanes like this at home," Ron said. "It's really made a mess of everything out there. Did you see it when that piece of the dock blew past?"
"It would have been hard to miss," Harry said. He turned back toward the school. "We're going to be late getting back home, but at least we'll have a good excuse. Let's go back inside and ask around about Snape."
"Oh," Ron said. "I suppose so. If you want."
"It's what we came here for, remember?" Harry said irritably. He was getting a bit tired of Ron's lack of enthusiasm for their quest.
Inside, the school seemed to be deserted. The students and most of the teachers were still away sheltering in the Quidditch Dome, and almost everyone else was catching up on their sleep. Between the Dementors, the evacuation, and the hurricane, they'd been up all night.
Kat was tired, but he was still up and about. He'd been waiting outside the infirmary while Arusha and Doc attended to Severus and Saunders. As he started down the stairs he noticed the two young men coming in through the main doors, but he didn't give them much thought at first. As he got closer, though, he noticed the red hair. Have I seen that guy somewhere? he wondered. And that other guy, with the glasses and the messy hair… They seem familiar. I must have met them at the picnic or something.
It wasn't until he was halfway down that it hit him: It's those two Aurors who picked up that vicious wyvern! They're the ones Slade seemed especially nervous about. Maybe they want to arrest him or something. That newspaper said he was a hero, but you never know.
Kat barely had time to conjure a pair of glasses and cast a quick glamour on his hair before Harry noticed him and started up the stairs. To Harry and Ron, Kat now appeared to have long blonde hair, and he was peering at them from behind a pair of thick glasses. They might not have recognized him from the encounter with the wyvern, but Kat wasn't taking any chances.
"Hi!" Harry said. "We're looking for somebody, and maybe you can help us. Have you seen this guy?" He pulled out the photo of Snape.
Kat studied the photo for a moment and then said, "Nope, I'm afraid not." He was trying to think of a subtle way to damage the photo when Harry thanked him and took it back.
"No point in going upstairs," Kat said a bit too forcefully. He wanted to keep them as far away from the infirmary as possible. "Everyone is asleep up there. You don't want to go waking 'em up. They've all had a rough night. Maybe you should get some sleep, too," he suggested.
"I don't think I could sleep," Harry said. "I think I've got portkey-lag. I'll just wait around for people to wake up."
"Let's go wait in the dining hall," Ron said. "We can have some tea, and the elves probably left some snacks out, too."
Kat breathed a sigh of relief when they turned away, but then he realized that he hadn't really solved the problem. Sooner or later, they're going to find someone who'll tell them. I've got to do something! He turned and raced back up the stairs.
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Lying in bed at the far end of the infirmary, Saunders was feeling awful, but not just because of his injuries. He had messed up badly and he knew it. The chocolate wasn't helping and neither was the brandy.
The trauma of his childhood kidnapping had left him haunted by anxiety and nightmares. He had tried to make use of what he'd learned from his kidnappers, in order to make something good come out of his ordeal, but it had nearly ended in disaster. He needed to find a better way to deal with his boyhood abuse and his unwilling involvement with demonic beings, but how?
Perhaps the mysterious Mr Slade could help him. The infirmary was empty of everyone save the two of them now. Arusha has gone to make more tea, and Proctor had gone to see if the nurse had returned yet.
Cautiously, because he was slightly tipsy from the brandy, Saunders climbed out of bed and headed for Severus. He gathered his courage. "Uh, Mr Slade… sir?"
"Go away," Severus muttered sleepily, not bothering to open his eyes. Why was this idiot bothering him? He wasn't quite sure where he was or how he got here, but he had been having such a pleasant rest. Then the memory of Saunders in the shack came back to him, and that was quickly followed by the terrible memories that he's seen in the young man's mind. He suppressed a shudder. In his role as Head of Slytherin, he had seen traumatized students, and he had actually managed to help some of them. Spurring them on to find some sort of purpose sometimes worked. Not that he wanted to help this pest, but perhaps it would make him go away.
"You're going about this the wrong way!" he snarled. "You don't open those gateways, you idiot; you have to find ways keep them closed! And you've got to do it without any of your bloody-minded self-sacrifice. Find a better way than having yourself slaughtered like a pig. Try to think!" There, he thought. That should do it. Then he turned over, pulled the sheet over his head, and went back to enjoying his dreams.
Quietly, Saunders backed away until he stumbled against the next bed. Fortunately it was empty. He sat down on it and thought for a while.
Maybe that's it, he decided. I'll study ancient scrolls, and I'll interview people who've had close encounters with this sort of thing, and I'll find better ways to keep the gateways closed.
And maybe he would even find closure for himself in the process.
"Thank you, Mr Slade," he murmured, but Severus just snored softly.
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In the dining hall, the hand-creature scampered back behind the potted palm when it saw Harry and Ron coming. They're back again! Why won't they just go away? it wondered. It tapped its fingers frantically.
The creature wasn't sure that it was happy to be alive. It couldn't remember anything before a wizard had cast the spells to animate it, after which it had been locked away in a jar with others like itself. Life in the jar had been endlessly boring and had almost driven it mad.
When it was finally freed, the creature had joined the others in rioting. They had sought vengeance by attacking the nearest wizard, even though he wasn't the one who had been responsible for their plight. And eventually it had managed to escape by clinging to Harry's cloak.
I suppose I should be grateful to him, the hand thought as it watched Harry, but that old house of his is awful. It's dark and boring, and he keeps trying to stun me whenever he sees me. I thought I could get away from him by hiding in this pack, but he's still around. If only he would just go away!
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Kat had hurried to his room, changed his clothes, and changed his disguise. Short brown hair, bushy eyebrows, a few freckles; yeah, that ought to do it. Then he headed back downstairs.
"Feelin' groovy," he sang to himself as he sauntered into the dining hall.
Harry approached him immediately.
"Hmmm," said Kat as he studied the photo. "Yeah, I think so. It looks kind of like one of the guys who stopped by and helped us chase off the Dementors, but they left a while ago, I think, before the storm hit. Said something about going to Singapore. Maybe if you hurry, you can catch up with them there."
"No, we've got to get back to London," Harry said, "but thanks. Was he okay?"
"Okay? Yeah," Kat said. "He looked a lot better than he does in that photo, that's for sure."
"Great!" said Ron. "We don't have to worry now; we know he's okay. Come on, Harry, let's see if we can use their floo to get back to the portkey office in New Orleans."
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Harry and Ron stood around waiting their turn because the floo was busy with streams of students who were returning from the Quidditch Dome. Ron was just about to stifle a yawn when he heard a young girl cry, "Come back here, Alvin!" and he saw the tarantula scampering toward him with Mysteria dashing after it.
Ron gasped and started to draw his wand, but Darkness threw her chartreuse purse to stop him. It hit him squarely in the head.
"Ouch!" he said. "What was that for?" as Mysteria bent down and scooped up her spider.
"Poor Alvin," she said, holding the big spider tenderly. "Did that nasty man try to hurt you?" She scowled up at Ron. Then she noticed the photo of Severus, which was lying on top of Harry's pack. She peered at it. "Is that Slade?" she asked. "It looks like him, but…"
"Lemme see that," Darkness said, picking up the photo along with her purse. She looked it over. "He looks awful! I mean, talk about a 'bad hair' day!"
"You know him?" Harry asked.
"Sure! He helped Fawkes save us from the Dementors," Darkness said proudly.
"Fawkes?" said Ron. "The phoenix? He was here, too?"
"You bet!" the strangely dressed girl said. "He swooped down out of the sky just like that," she made a swooping motion with her arm, "and he wiped out that horrible Dementor-thing. He's so great!"
"Do you know where they went?" Harry asked excitedly. This could be the best lead that they'd had so far.
"They're still here, aren't they?" Mysteria said. "We heard that Mr Slade was injured by monsters or something and he's in the infirmary. We're going to go see him after lunch."
"Injured?" Harry said. "I hope it's not serious! Where's the infirmary?"
"Up the main stairs, turn right, and go down the hall," Darkness told them. "There's a sign on the door."
"Thanks!" Harry said. He grabbed Ron by the arm and started for the stairs.
"It's nice that Mr Slade has such good friends," Mysteria said. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see them."
Collaborator's Note: According to the U.S. Supreme Court (Wizarding Division), life debts are forbidden by the Thirteenth Amendment, which outlaws slavery.