My Child

Chapter 4

"I assume he's signed the secrecy contract?" Charlus asked his wife, knowing without a doubt he had. There was no way she'd let him near Harry without one. She was far more emotional than he'd anticipated, getting attached too quickly. Which in the long run, might not be the best idea the world. Harry might wish to return to the family that raised him. Although, they would provide money and heal him so that he wasn't sick. It would devastate his wife, but they couldn't kidnap a child from the people he loved as much as he'd hate himself afterwards while returning the youngster home. He could only pray his wife forgave him, but there was nothing to say they couldn't visit. For the right price people would agree to anything, and it was clear this family wasn't even receiving a stipend which is odd, he really needed to look into the Potter finances.

"I have, Lord Potter," Rowle murmured soft and soothingly, it was very much a voice used solely to comfort his patients. "Now that necessities have been observed, may I know who my patient is?" his tone deliberately non-confrontational.

"Technically I am not Lord Potter," Charlus explained, he hadn't taken on the mantle. However, once this thing with Harry was settled, he would do so. It was risky, it was broadcasting that they were alive and well. Or at the very least he was, he'd need to convince the family (Harry and the family who had raised him) to go into hiding. "Your patient is Heir Harry James Potter, future Lord of the Black-Potter estate."

Rowle blinked, eyes zoning in on the child, his fascination immediately in effect. Truly curious (from a medical standpoint) how on earth he had survived that night. His allegiance didn't come into it, the boy was just a child, neutral at this point in time, and until he took up arms (his wand) chose his side as an adult he had no interest in harming him. What the Dark Lord had done…had been a step too far for most of them. Especially those who had just became parents themselves. Not that he was a Death Eater, but he was dark and believed in a lot of what the Dark Lord aimed for. He would have sworn himself to the wizard if he'd been able.

There are those that said the Dark Lord hadn't died that night though.

"May I?" gesturing towards the unconscious child, "How long as he been unconscious?"

"Twenty-five minutes I'd deduce." Charlus informed him, stepping aside entirely, Marius and Charlus took a seat while Dorea hovered at the back of the sofa. "One of the healers we spoke to early thinks it was a panic attack." His disgust peaking through, not at the fact he was Muggle-born simply for assuming something. Children were special, they deserved proper treatment. A Healer, a proper healer and Rowle fit that role for the time being.

Better to be safe than sorry in his opinion.

Rowle nodded, "Let me guess, assumptions through the Floo network?" disapproval written across his face, "Some Muggle-born came up with the idea. Since then, seventeen wizards and witches have been brought in to the hospital in emergency basis due to their misdiagnosis'."

Charlus pinched the bridge of his nose, "I honestly can't stand the need to adapt to the Muggle ways." Dumbledore's influence no doubt, much to his displeasure, honestly, he hated that wizard. The amount of power he had was beyond terrifying.

Rowle agreed fully, lips twisted just thinking about the influence Mudbloods had on their society. If they wanted to be amongst Muggle influence then they should head home. Leave their world alone and its traditions. They needed someone who was prepared to bring the old ways back. Nothing like that would happen while Dumbledore was still in power. It was like the old man deliberately wanted the Muggles to find out.

"Enough chit-chat, what happened? What's wrong with Harry and can he be healed?" Dorea asked, if she wasn't quite so composed her hands would be wringing together. The only sign of her anxiousness was her inability to keep control of her hands. For the most part they lay on the sofa, other times she reached to touch Harry but refrained due to the diagnosis spells that were to be cast.

She couldn't be touching him when the spell was cast, otherwise it would be compromised.

Rowle said nothing in regards to her worries, but did say, "Let's find out, shall we?"

Dorea stood up straight, moved over to her favourite seat and perched herself on it. Ignoring the book, she'd been reading last night, the desire to have a drink was strong but she mustn't be impaired. She selfishly wanted Harry to want to stay with them. Where they could keep him safe, Merlin only knows how Dumbledore would react to their return from the 'dead'. She was the picture of calm composure.

Marius straightened noticing the disquiet on Rowle's face, barely there, wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been paying attention. He didn't often see magic in action, except Portkey or Apparation when his sister and Brother-in-Law came to see him in the Muggle world. Smoothing his tie down, "What's wrong?" Marius' voice queried, which garnered both Charlus' and Dorea's attention as well.

"Have you been raising my patient?" which was exactly what Harry was right now, his patient. You could put the most battle-hardened Death Eater in front of Harry and they wouldn't blame him for what happened. They wouldn't have killed him for what happened either. If he was older, perhaps they would have, but right now he was just a child and he was aghast at what he was reading.

"No, he was hidden from everyone, only Albus Dumbledore and his ilk I presume know where he was." Charlus answered grimly sensing the shift and being to the point and honest. There was no reason not to be, the young wizard couldn't say anything even if he wanted to. "We've been searching for him since November first, we've had no luck whatsoever until now. From what we can gather his guardians, we are assuming they're Muggles." His own prejudice showing through, he didn't hate them, but he didn't want to associate with them.

Marius cleared his throat, glaring at his brother-in-law pointedly, accepting the grimace and apologetic look as an apology and inclining his head. He was closer to a Muggle than he was to being a wizard. His sister had very unlikely to have explained whom he was. Rowle didn't know he was in the same room as a 'squib' which were treated like they were leapers when it was unveiled.

"Filthy rotten muggles they don't deserve the air they breathe," Rowle swore vehemently, cursing up a storm in Latin, words that were most definitely not meant to be said in the presence of a Lady.

"Healer Rowle, if you would care to explain, I'd be much obliged." Charlus declared sharply. His eyes darkening considerably as he stared impassively at the younger wizard. It was a tone that declared he was not going to take anyone's bullshit. He either told them what he found or he'd be escorted out hastily and he'd find someone more tolerable. Charlus sincerely prayed that wasn't the way it would go. Having to get another healer in, would be rather troublesome, and not because they were dead surprisingly enough.

Rowle pressed his wand delicately against the child's forehead, which was a little hot, not critically so, but enough he was concerned. Murmuring the incantation under his breathe, and magically, layer by layer, Harry's skeletal structure began to emerge, layered above the child by a foot no more than two feet.

Where everything was fine, was a light simmering blue that actually looked white in a certain angle. Like the sky when you're looking at it. Any problems were bright pulsing red, and older ones? Were so rusty red that you could argue that it was brown. There was a lot of purple hues there too.

"You're a natural healer," Charlus said impressed, natural gifts were always honoured in the Black family. Dorea had rubbed off on him, so had the other Black's for that matter. He made a mental note to see if Rowle could help Arcturus. Natural gifts were becoming less and less frequent, which was a shame, but in the grand scheme of thing, it was just another loss for the magical world.

"I am," Rowle declared triumphantly, it wasn't something he broadcast outside of his family and allies. He was 'recommended' by people so he was never struggling for work. Even if he did have time off work, he had books and other aspirations he wished to pursue.

"What do all those red lights with the purple hue mean?" Marius asked, eyeing them with trepidation. Red could be universally acknowledged being a 'dangerous or danger' colour or rather a warning. "This isn't good, is it?" grim himself without even waiting for confirmation.

"The blood reds speak of a new injury, recent, the purple indicate magic is trying to heal him, his own magic is healing the injury. The only problem is, that magic can't really heal an injury otherwise there would be no need for healers. Magic patches over the injury if you like, heals it incorrectly, which isn't good long term." Dorea spoke, her face reflecting the pain of the visual pain that Harry must be in every day.

Charlus inhaled sharply, unsurprised his wife knew, the Black family did have natural healers back in the day. It's likely where Rowle had received his gift, his grandmother had been born a Black if he recalled correctly. Which when it came to the Black family it wasn't easy at all.

"The brown hue speaks of old untreated, unhealed injuries, his fingers are broken," Dorea looked close to tears, nobody had seen her such a way since she lost her son. His hand pressing against the magic which simply dispersed.

"Shattered," Rowle corrected her, eyes seething in fury, how he hated Muggles. "Likely a door," he'd seen similar injuries where children had been playing and closed the door on a sibling's hand. "The left fingers I'd bet were stomped on…to cause that damage it must have been multiple times or something immensely, immensely heavily," he wasn't even going to comment on the other injuries, he didn't think the child would be alive if it weren't for being magically powerful. Say what he liked, but Harry Potter was definitely powerful.

"How could it have gone undetected?" Charlus asked aghast.

"Its likely the child never attended nursery, nobody to notice anything concerning." Marius said bleakly, the thought of people he surrounded himself with being capable of this…it was a lot to take in. He could barely digest it, children were the future, to be cherished and protected at all costs. "All children's writing is sloppy and unreadable, if there was no outward damage they might not have cottoned on yet."

"What is that?" Charlus asked, alarmed by the blackness surrounding the 'images' skull.

"Magic," Rowle declared, "I do believe it's a residual from the night he was attacked. It's why the scar is so clear as if it had just happened. without the magic his forehead could be healed."

"What kind of magic?" Dorea asked suspiciously, it was dead centre, exactly where his scar was. "Only the darkest of arts comes up so black."

"I don't know," Rowle answered honesty, he suspected, but he didn't know. "I can remove it, but it's best done while he's under a Dreamless Sleep draught. I have no idea how much, if at all, it will hurt him."

"But?" Charlus asked suspiciously.

"But he won't be able to be healed with a Dreamless Sleep draught in him." Rowle explained, brushing Harry's bangs back away from the scar that did indeed look recent not coming on four years old. "It will be twelve hours before I could give him anything." the only downside to the Skele-grow potion, it couldn't be given with Valarian. The effects were not good, not good at all.

"We have to come down hard on Dumbledore with this information," Marius snapped, "What he's done to…" wordlessly unable to articulate anything, becoming speechless in his rage and anger.

"There is no point," Charlus replied bluntly, his rage just as strong as Marius'. "You know as well as I do, that he can claim utter ignorance of the abuse. Unless, you have found any spells cast on my nephew?" Harry technically wasn't his nephew, James was, but he was still a great nephew and he wasn't going around saying 'great nephew' when everyone already knew otherwise.

"There are a few spells that the diagnosis spell picked up, none that you're going to like," Rowle informed him, handing over a copy of the sheet of paper.

Charlus read the information, his face flushing a horrid red as his temper got the better of him. The Potters were known for their tempers, and their struggle to maintain it. Fleamont surprisingly had been worse than him when they were kids, but had found something that mellowed him out.

"Charlus, what is it?" Dorea asked, coming around to her husband's side.

"Blocks on his magic, magic that Dumbledore shouldn't even know," Charlus bit out still in a mood. "Only those in the Ministry reversal squad should know these spells. Which means he has someone in his pocket there…there's no way these spells have gotten out into the general public." they were only used in extreme circumstances, where a child was in danger of exposing magic or worse, where their magic tended to be more violently inclined.

"And likely, he'll just proclaim Harry was having trouble with accidental magic in a Muggle area, that he was protecting him." Dorea said disdainfully, "They would accept his word for it, without a single doubt."

"Powerful lad though, he's already shred through two of Dumbledore's blocks," Charlus said smugly, there was nothing more important to them than the power of their offspring, or their magic powers of their family and those under the family name.

"It's going to take at least a week for Heir Potter to be healed," Rowle explained, "The magic I will perform to remove this, might drain both of us." gesturing towards the skeletal mind which had pulsing black aura around it.

"What would be easier? Healing him then removing the magic?" Dorea questioned, so very worried about the child. All those broken bones, it was horrifying, those muggles he'd been with had obviously hurt him. She needed to find out if the Muggle child received the same treatment and get him out of there. She wouldn't keep the child, but she could ensure its safety.

"His magic is mostly focusing on healing old injuries; this magic might fight it's expulsion from Heir Potter's body." Rowle explained easily and simply. "It's my belief that we should remove the magic first, while he is…shall we say, magically weakened." All very true, Rowle couldn't help but wonder what it was.

"If anything happens to him your life will be forfeit." Dorea coldly demonstrated that she was a Black first and foremost. "I will curse you with unimaginable agony and keep the curses on you for days, weeks, months…and I might take pity on you but then again…I might not. There is something you're not telling us."

Rowle shuddered, knowing that Dorea Black-Potter would live up to the Black reputation without a second's doubt. There was nothing more dangerous than a woman protecting the life of those she loved. This he knew very instinctively, and didn't for a second underestimate her.

Charlus just smirked, that threat worked better than any he'd give, he was a foolish lad if he thought for a second, he could get one over them. The only reason the impudent pup was still standing was because he had sworn oaths to do his best no doubt, when Dorea set him in front of the contract. He was working something to his advantage but it wasn't to Harry's detriment.

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured deferentially, respectfully. He had quite forgotten himself for a moment.

"What are your suspicions?" Dorea demanded to know, the glare on her face set to torture and maim level.

"I…think it's a residual piece of the Dark Lord Voldemort's soul," Rowle confessed, the implications of that made him feel sick to his stomach. "But I cannot confirm it without a deep feel."

His feelings were echoed around the room of those who were the closest thing to blood relations that Harry has left. Well, blood relations that weren't the Dursley's and weren't they going to be in for a shock when they figured that out.

"A Horcrux?" Dorea asked, naturally aware of their existence, the Black family library was one of the biggest collections in existence in the UK and Ireland. "But for it to have broken off…"

"Then he has fractured his soul many times." Even Marius knew this. Then again at the end of the day, Marius Black was born a Black and as much as he wished otherwise, he had been raised in a household that didn't care for restricting magic, letting their children decide.

"A living Horcrux?" Dorea said a look of disbelief on her face, "Can you remove it?" Merlin only knows just how it was affecting him. Magically, physically, mentally…there had never been one before, at least in recorded history. She worried for Harry's future, and she was overwhelmed, where did they start? The abuse had come as a soul-destroying shock, Dumbledore had sent Harry to be abused…she would bet every single Galleon in her vault he knew about the Horcrux as well; she was going to destroy him.

"Yes," Rowle answered, watching her warily, like a serpent about to strike, she was pissed.

"We're taking Dumbledore down." Dorea said coldly, "It's time we gathered our allies and all the evidence we can bring to bear and destroy him."

As I said, small chapters until I'm finished decorating, writing what I can and posting if for you. Well, I got everything sanded down and glossed it over again *phew* I think there were about ten layers of paint I had to remove to find the wood under it! Only got a few more doors to paint then that part is done :) I'm honestly surprised I managed to write anything my arms feel wet noodles but the difficult bit is still to come...the hallway is huge way higher than needed, about 10feet probably more going to be tricky getting the painting done (honestly I think to do those walls you need a wee scaffolding) which there's no way we can afford my jaw literally dropped when I heard the price they want for it . anyway that's it from me I'm going to bed i'm exhausted! :D so will they manage to get the Horcrux out or will Rowle fail and end up hunting the rest down to bring the Dark Lord back to sanity (this will take years and likely go on in the background if i go down that road! I don't want to make my stories too similar so it bears thinking about! R&R please