A/N: What's up, bitches! (I mean that lovingly.) I'm back and I love all of you beautiful people! 3 :-) I'm feeling better than ever. Enjoy!


Chapter 57

Part of him didn't want to wake up. He knew he'd be alone. He knew he still didn't know what to do. No Draco. No Iece. But he kept lifting his head through the fog. He'd stare around his and Draco's empty bedroom for a second, then submerge like a fish, back into sleep. Awake and reliving her being pulled from his arms, was too painful at first.

He didn't know how to leap across the chasm of grief growing wider as the meds left his body. Each time he neared the surface of consciousness, he heard her screams and didn't know how to find her. He flung hexes and took swings at the people responsible, only to find himself beating the shit out of his covers and waking up to the smell of burning fabric that he'd set fire to. Before he could magically douse them out, a wave of someone else's magic suffocated them. He turned to see Jipsy standing in the door way.

A tender smile lifted her wide face, and to express his relief at seeing her, he tried to smile back.

"Jipsy," he said, and the tears came. She made him feel his failure to protect his family even more. But before his grief could overwhelm him, she raised her hand. "Sir, you must rest and get the muggle potions out of your body. Master Draco orders it so. I will look after you."

Elf magic eclipsed his last thoughts of despair. He suddenly couldn't hold a thought if he tried, and collapsed back onto his pillow.

At one point during the night, he looked through groggy, burning eyes, to find Jipsy's silhouette standing beside the bed. It was too dark to see her clearly. If it wasn't for her ears, he would've rushed to mistake her for Iece, because he could. He was genuinely glad to see her.

"Jipsy…" His throat felt like sandpaper and he couldn't move.

"Why can't I move?"

"You were trying to get up in your sleep, sir. You were fighting and thrashing. It was unsafe for Jipsy to be near you. You fell from your bed several times. Jipsy had to levitate you and put you back in it."

"Well I'm awake now. Please unbind me."

She did. When he could move, he pushed himself up. He wanted to say it's good to see you, but immediately requested water. She produced it without blinking an eye. It levitated to his mouth.

"Sir, are you feeling any better? You were in a state when the aurors brought you home."

He drank and asked for another before answering her. "I'm still in a state. They took her. You know that, right? Did anyone explain to you?"

She nodded. Her ear bobbles jiggled. "I was at Draco's bedside. He told me the terrible news. I was transporting his luggage and some furniture to the new house in America when I felt her scream. It was like a summons that I couldn't answer. When I found Draco, I could not find her. Yes, sir. I am aware of the wrong that has been done to my family."

He rubbed his face, trying to remember getting here. After the trial, one minute the Weasley's were surrounding him, hugging and reassuring him, then he was rolling over in these sheets. He didn't remember any aurors or an escort home. He tried to recall the events of the trial.

He no longer cared what people thought of him or how badly it was going. He couldn't seem to communicate with his magic. He couldn't stir it up to get it to do what he wanted it to do. Then Snape was sitting there, as proud as you please in front of the court. He thought he was hallucinating because of the medication. But no, it was really him, saying anything and everything to get him free.

He had never heard the likes of such lies, the level of embellishment, just to take the heat off of him and Draco. In his stupor it had been too much to follow. Knowing what his father had done to Snape, was horrible enough. The fact that Snape deemed all those absurd things necessary, only reminded Harry of how badly he'd screwed up and what it was taking to get him out of it.

He couldn't remember all the little details, if he really tried to think about them, but he remembered the big ones. His dad and Snape, and all that sex shit really did happen. It was too disgusting to look at full on. His mind wanted to shut down, but he didn't want to go back to sleep. There was too much to do. He had to get in touch with the CIUM. They could help, couldn't they? Why hadn't they shown up? Bicksby promised his family would be protected.

This stimulated the memory of two aurors escorting him home through apparation. They still wouldn't let him see Draco. "Sleep it off, Potter. You're not going to help Draco until you can form complete sentences. As soon as you're coherent and yourself again, we'll tell you how the investigation is going. Everything we know. One of us will be back. You've got a host of security on your floor and around the building."

Draco must be going crazy. He looked at Jipsy, "Do you think you could get me in to see Draco?" He now remembered being denied the ability to visit. He didn't want to give anyone else a chance to tell him no.

Light behind the blinds had increased in brightness. Jipsy's face tensed in a way that he wasn't used to seeing. Her narrow shoulders appeared to rise around her sinking head.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Master Draco has requested that I keep you away from him, for now. It's his legs. The pain doesn't allow him to think clearly, and he doesn't want you to see him in pain."

"His legs? That was days ago. Wait, what day is it?"

She told him. "Today is the fifth day since she was taken. His legs have not mended. I even tried healing them, myself. It reduced his pain, but did not hold. His doctor says it's the grief. It's more powerful than his magic at this moment. As his mind heals, so will his body. It's just going to take longer than expected."

He asked her, "Can your magic find her?"

"Normally, yes. I'm responsible for her. I should know where she is at all times. But wherever they've taken her, I can't feel her. They must have a very powerful weapon against magic, sir. Jipsy cannot tell of her whereabouts, no matter how hard she tries."

He registered this. "Go to Draco. Stay with him all night."

Thick skin between her eyes crinkled as she looked at him for a moment, hesitating.

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "I just need to think, now that I can."

She followed orders and blinked out.

Contrary to what he'd told her, he wasn't himself still. The minute she'd gone, he felt the prison of not knowing what to do. Had they attempted to get in touch with him, and he was fucking unconscious? Just wait, the auror had said. Almost a week? What the hell? Nobody gets away with this. Nobody.

He couldn't see past his anger. He couldn't think. He took the coldest shower he could withstand, to shock him back into thinking normally. He only closed his eyes for a minute. When he opened them, the spray streamed bloody rivulets against white tiles. He'd absently banged his fist against the wall, breaking a caddy that held a shower head. He hadn't even felt himself do it.

He tried closing the wound with basic first-aid magic, and saw it advance in stages. It scabbed, but didn't disappear. That told him more about his magic and his state of mind than anything. It also made him itch to see Draco.

Out of no where, the assault of remembering how Iece was pulled from his arms, hit him. It caved in his sternum, bending him. He released something between a gasp and a grunt as the impact of it all sent alarms ringing, telling him that he had to do something, and do it now. He'd already wasted so much time. It was a boulder of failure crushing him and demanding that he fix this now. He couldn't just sleep and bathe, as if the world wasn't on fire. His baby needed him. She had to be so scared, and he was failing her.

"They're not going to hurt her."

The voice startled Harry. Half dressed, he looked up into his wall-length bathroom mirror, and saw Snape standing just inside the door.

Harry squinted, a neurological reflex and habit. He no longer needed his glasses, but he reached for them anyway.

"Snape?" Something was weird about this sudden appearance. And not just the fact that Snape was here. He looked as if he was standing in darkness and none of the light in the room was reaching him.

"Don't look at me, look into the mirror."

"What?"

"The kidnappers have ways of watching you. Walls do not hide you from them. They must think that you are alone. They're waiting."

"I'm being watched?"

"We can only assume, and be as careful as possible. I'm here, though not in full form. I am only using half of my physical bearing to reach you. Anymore, and I would set off your wards. I am just below the physical. Barely. You cannot try to touch me, nor can I touch anything at your level. Listen closely. I am working with the Ministry to get your daughter back. We have wizards in place. Iece was taken by a group of entities known as Backaalss. They are not wizards. They do not have magic, which is why they had to disable yours. They employ wizards to deal with magical matters. We don't yet know what they want with you, but they took her to make you take them seriously."

Harry forgot about the cut, or standing there in his t-shirt and underwear.

"Just tell me how to get her back. What do I do?"

"Wait for them to contact you. They must be watching you. With any luck, they cannot detect my presence."

"But no one's tried to contact me. It's been days."

"Don't panic. You've been out. Between jail and medication, they must know perfectly well that you were in no condition to hear their demands. Be stable and demonstrate your presence of mind. I'm certain they will make contact as soon as you prove yourself mentally acute and responsive."

Harry leaned on the counter. "Oh, God."

"Don't let grief get the better of you just yet. Be alert. When they contact you, they will demand that you work with them alone. They won't want any authority involved. You must make them think that you're willing to do so. We will take this opportunity to plan accordingly."

"You have a plan?"

"When they come for you, you will cooperate or you will never see her again. You must allow me to see through your eyes."

"What"?

"Open your mind to me. Invite me in."

This request seemed strangely out of place and didn't match the reproaching expression on Snape's severe face at all.

"Oh don't act so shocked. You've been walking around in my mind as if it were a public museum."

"I mean, how?" This wasn't like working with Thella, was it? She had gifts that Snape doesn't. It's not as if Harry had some kind of magical access portal, like an after-death painting, to let him enter through.

Snape's arms folded. "It's a small adjustment. Whatever you see when they take you, remember it back to me. See it. Hear it. Imagine it back to me as you remember it. You know what I feel like in your mind. We already have a bridge through our Occlumency lessons. I will enter your mind and you will let me. When you see that you can do this, instant communication is only a step away. You will learn to distinguish my contact from all the gibberish in your head."

"Let you in my head? You're going to try to see what's going on from my thoughts? Like telepathy?"

"Not quite. For this to work, you must feed me the information very deliberately. I can approach your mind and see your field of vision, with limitations, if you allow it. I cannot say whether or not we will be able to communicate clearly, but it's our only option at this point. How ever they get a hold of you, summon me. Think of me. Show me. I will be alert to any hint of Legilimency from you. I am, right now, thinking of an object. I am pressing it into your mind." He paused. "What is it?"

Harry watched for it. He waited, like waiting for a package from his imagination. An assortment of images ran across the screen of his mind as if he were flipping through a large catalog. But then, the same thing stood out, repeating itself with burning intensity. A round, red globe. Sometimes huge and luminous, sometimes small like a marble.

"A red ball thing. A marble?"

"Close. The crystal from my den. The one that you and Ash returned from."

"Oh, okay. Is that good?"

"Better than expected. We have a link. Use this image to get my attention. You can make it brighter, you can dim it, you can set it on fire in your mind. I will have to interpret the symbol. The point is, when this lights up for either one of us, you will send me mental pictures and thoughts of as much information as you can send me. Stay alert. This is our only means of tracking you to their base, if they take you there at all. We need to see where they're holding her and what our obstacles are. So you're going to cooperate with them to the best of your ability."

Harry was so grateful to have his ex-teacher talking to him again, he knew this wasn't the time or the place but he had to ask. "Snape. What you said in court…"

"Irrelevant. Prepare to be taken. The kidnappers are coming for you. The only thing on your mind should be surviving to rescue your daughter."

He was right. Harry knew that. The questions he wanted to ask died on his lips.

"You'll convey everything that you are told and everything that you see and know. I'll do my best to keep up and convey useful information to the aurors working with us."

"What about the CIUM?"

"What about them?"

"I'm supposed to be working for them, in exchange for getting me out of trouble with the Ministry. Weeks ago, they wanted to know where you were. I didn't know and I didn't tell them. But they were looking for you."

Snape appeared to draw himself up. "Well, they must certainly know where I am now."

"I didn't believe that you were dead then. Now that you're out in the open, I would've thought they'd contact you. Be careful. They say they only want to talk to you, and they did help me, but I don't know how much they can be trusted. They were supposed to protect me and my family. They have high intelligence, unlimited resources, and international jurisdiction. They literally hunt monsters."

"Say no more. Act normal. Dress and wait on the Backaals to come to you. This group you speak of, no doubt, are waiting on the same thing. If they have that much authority and range, they must want you to lead them to the Backaals as well. If rescuing your daughter doesn't support their plans, they won't do it. We're all waiting to see what happens next."

"I just sit here and hope they contact me?"

"They will contact you. Quick, think of something you were doing an hour ago. Anything."

"Uh… "

"No, don't say it out loud. Think it to me. A scene. A few words. Remember it and send it to me."

Harry thought about how dry his throat had felt from screaming and thrashing in his bed, and the relief of finding Jipsy there, giving him water and talking to him. Because he felt insecure about the whole idea of giving his thoughts to Snape, he childishly imagined his morning with Jipsy wrapped in a buoyant balloon that drifted to Snape, entering his head and popping to deliver his messages.

Snape looked appalled. "There is no need to resort to preschool tricks. You can 'send' without inventing an entire delivery system."

"I'm new at this."

"Yes you are." Snape did that thing where he almost pursed his lips, but aborted the instinct. "Suffice it to say that I am glad your house elf is taking care of you. Our communication is successful. Wait for them."

Before Harry could get another question out, Snape's form thinned into translucency, then vanished.

Harry finished dressing and tried to do something normal, like eat, but couldn't get his nerves to stop jumping. His baby was out there, terrified, waiting on him to come get her, and he didn't have a clue as to how. He didn't cope well with helplessness. He poured a drink that he knew he probably shouldn't touch and slouched onto the sofa with it. What the hell was taking those cowards of kidnappers so long?

Being a prisoner in Lucius's house, being his victim, was nothing compared to this. She was scared and she needed him, and once again he wasn't fucking there. The drink in his hand shook.

This torment triggered the shock he endured in Snape's cave. For a second, he was right back there, paralyzed in a spell of pain, and determined not to let it kill him as Snape looked on.

Snape's expression was a cold facade. He knew it was a lie. Snape said he'd help, and he will.
He'd said impossible things on the stand.

At the time, Harry wasn't listening to the logic behind Snape's reveal-all. He was only awestruck to register his teacher coming out of hiding to be with him, and to say that he was going to get Iece back. That had been enough to explode Harry's heart, for that was all he managed to get from it. Through his mixture of grief and guilt over Draco, and despair from court exposure, the medication in his system allowed him to be very selective about what he understood and what he didn't.

Snape was here to help, and that's all that mattered. The rest, well, they'd sort that out later. If the only way his teacher would come out of that cave, was to think of Iece as his relative, his grandchild even, well that was adorable and it made Harry proud that Snape wanted the role. The rest, the stuff about a baby, something to do with his mom, and curse-magic, well that twisted his comprehension into a pretzel before he could even look at it with any sort of objectivity. Yeah, he'd heard the words, but they were too much to believe. They were based on facts, but were still the embellishments of a highly motivated wizard. Snape said what he had to say, to create the most compelling story possible. Just go with it. There are more important things to worry about right now. Iece was with strangers. God only knows what's happening to her.

Wake up. Focus! You're better than this. You're stronger than this.

He got up an dug out his CIUM ring, but hesitated to use it. Why hadn't they contacted him? Didn't they have his back? The fact that Bicksby hadn't shown up through out the entire trial, left him thinking he wasn't as important to that organization as he'd been led to believe. And if they didn't want to help him, screw them. He put the ring on, but didn't press the spot that would've connected him to them. Surely, they knew where he was at all times.

That's when he remembered being in the painting, working with Eileen, and discovering the wheels and his ability to affect things. His ability to use his imagination like the Elder Wand, when there was no Elder Wand. He should just be able to reach his daughter because he wanted to. He shouldn't have to wait on anyone's permission. Yes, he was that fucking powerful, if only he knew how to do it.

It's intention, Thella had told him. Even Eileen had said something to that effect. "You don't need spells and fancy words for everything. Raw magic will do what you intend for it to do."

Right. Time to focus like never before. He got up again and splashed water on his face. He told himself he was becoming mentally sharper and sat on his couch to make mental contact with his daughter. If he could, he wanted to see her. Muggles called it remote viewing. He'd never tried it before, but dammit, he had the power, he knew it. He closed his eyes and went inward, feeling for her. He remembered the talisman that was given back to him after his release. He rummaged until he found it and put it on. It made him feel better. Iece had one too, the first one made for him. He felt they were connected. Didn't Thella say that it was powered by his love for his family? Ancestors, or something?

He returned to the sofa and his drink. What time was it? The day was getting long. Every attempt to still his mind, allowed thoughts of Draco to burst through. Images came without effort, unlike with Iece. He realized that his magic assumed that he wanted to apparate to Draco, and he was phasing in and out of the transition, causing a strange bilocation effect. What spell was Snape using to only half be here, undetected by wards like that?

Harry felt himself sitting on his sofa, but he could also sense himself looking at Draco from the corner of a hospital room. His perspective was that of someone hiding, hoping to go unnoticed. Draco's eyes were closed as his body lay propped to brace his legs at a certain angle. Gaunt, unshaven, hair skewed and brittle looking, he appeared as miserable as his situation indicated.

Instantly, Harry's thoughts leapt violently from him. In his mind, he shouted at Draco. Stop this! What the hell are your doing to yourself? You will NOT succumb to grief this easily. I won't let you.

Draco opened his eyes. His body tensed. His head turned. He looked at the spot in his hospital room, where Harry would've been standing, were he visible. He stared.

Harry spoke to him. "She's still alive. You're making yourself sick. You can't grieve and heal at the same time. You can't suffer like this, it doesn't help her."

"Harry…" Draco uttered. His voice cracked as words drug from his throat. "I know you're here."

Harry's breath caught. From the sofa, his eyes remained closed. From the corner of Draco's hospital room, he waited, listening. Draco saw him? Sensed him?

Draco swallowed so effortfully, that Harry wanted to put the glass of water beside his bed to his lips. He wanted to hold it for him while he drank. You need water.

Draco dismissed this advice with a subtle shake of his head. This is how Harry knew that Draco had heard him. His head sank back into his pillow. He spoke while staring up at the ceiling.

"Harry, I'm trying to pick myself up and go after her. I'm trying to be useful. But knowing that she's gone, seeing them take her like that… I can't pick myself up from that blow. I'm trying, it's just… After everything that's happened, it seems like we're cursed on every level. I feel her screams and they fucking keep me on the ground. I can't get up."

Harry insisted, "You have to get out of this bed. You have to be here for her when I bring her back. Who else can take care of her? If you're not on your feet, I'll have to give her to Mrs. Weasley or Hermione. They'll have to live in hiding with me or something. Nobody can take care of her the way you can. I will bring her back and she's going to need you. Be ready. Get up and walk."

Draco looked again at the spot where Harry would've been standing, were he visible to anyone. Tears matted his pale lashes.

"You'll bring her back? Can you promise me that?"

"Yes. I'm searching, and I'm not coming back without her."

"If you bring her back, I'll be ready. I'll find the strength to get out of this bed."

"I promise, I'll make up for everything. All of this is my fault."

"I don't need your ego-sized regret. Just bring her back."

Draco's words were so final, they thrust Harry back to his living room. He lay on the floor. It took a few minutes for him to piece together what had just happened. He meant to search for Iece, but Draco's pain distracted him, and he couldn't resist seeing him. He felt ejected from Draco's mind in a 'Don't come back without her,' kind of warning. He stank of alcohol and saw that it had spilled and soaked into his clothes and the carpet. He pushed himself up. That's when he saw the polished leather Oxfords of a man standing only a few feet in front of him.

Harry's eyes traveled up the length of a dark navy blue suit and coat. The man staring down at him held no emotion on his face and his manner was one of simple patience. He had dark, cropped hair, deep smile lines and wore a single earring of a gold feather in his right ear.

"The clock is ticking,' said the wizard who had broken his wards and stood in his livingroom.

"If you want to see your daughter, do precisely as I say."

His tone was grave and cautionary, like a surgeon giving tracheotomy instructions over a phone.

"Use these injections." He held out a flat wooden box, resembling a cigar box. Two syringes were encased inside. "These will temporarily suppress your magic. Don't try to contact anyone. It's all timed. We're watching everything you do. After you inject yourself, you will have seven minutes to walk to the corner of Woburn and Churtsey. Get on the 1 PM, J20 bus route. Get off at Ware road and Hertford, the second stop. There is a parking service across the street. A car will be waiting for you. Get in. Let nothing distract you. Make no calls. We'll be able to see and hear everything you do. The journey to your daughter will take several days. You'll be kept ignorant of your surroundings, but your accommodations will be provided for. As long as you cooperate, you will not be harmed. However, you are a powerful wizard and we will take measures to defend ourselves, should you retaliate in any way."

Harry was barely cognizant, but knew he had to listen no matter how angry it made him. "You have my daughter. I'm not about to do anything that would put her in more danger."

"She's not in any danger. She is being cared for."

"Why did you take her?"

"The one I serve, requires an audience with you. She cannot come above ground. You will be escorted to her."

This bit of forthcoming surprised Harry. He looked at the syringes. "I'm just supposed to give up my magic and believe that you're going to give my child back?"

"Yes."

"I want proof that she's okay."

"I can't give you that. You'll have to trust."

"Trust the people who stole my daughter?" Harry asked.

The man took one step back and vanished into a vapor of darkness. He was obviously a wizard, practicing illegal magic strong enough to get around wards. Like Snape. Apparently, there was a whole nother level of advanced magic that Hogwarts left out of its curriculum. Dark magic, no doubt. Harry wasn't surprised by that. The fact that this person could break through his wards, meant that he had some advantage that Harry knew nothing about.

He stared at the box and came to terms with what he had to do. He steeled his nerves, wrote down the street names while they were still in his short term memory, and looked at the syringes. He made a point of gripping the talisman around his neck.

He spoke to Iece as if she could hear him. "I will get you back, with or without magic."

He stabbed himself with one injection, fought back the warnings of idiocy, panic, and disaster, then stabbed the next one into his arm. As an afterthought, he pressed the CIUM ring, hoping it was an undetectable alert. Hoping someone had his back as he grabbed a jacket and headed out the door.