This was not how he had imagined spending Christmas, Harry thought, as he was pacing restlessly in front of the closed door of the hospital wing “ up and down, up and down, every so often throwing a quick glance at Hermione and Ron, who were sitting on a bench at the wall across from the door. Hermione was nervously wringing her hands “ she had stopped crying a while ago and was now lost in thoughts -, while Ron seemed to be doing his best to comfort her, with a steady hand on her shoulder.
Harry wished he could do something, anything, but he was helpless. While Madam Pomfrey was slaving away inside this room, trying to find out what had happened to Draco, they were forced to wait outside. Half an hour had already passed since they had brought him back to Hogwarts, not more than forty minutes since Hermione had been standing in their room with a tear-streamed face. And Draco still hadn’t woken up, as far as they knew.
Just as Hermione had said, he had been burning up, his face pale, even paler than he normally was, and bathed in cold sweat. Harry had once again tried to wake him, yelling at him, shaking him, even slapping him, but without success. He and Ron had only exchanged one look, before hoisting Draco up with combined strength and bringing him back to Hogwarts.
Thirty-five minutes. Harry looked up from his watch and to the closed door. He honestly didn’t know, if it was a good or bad sign that Madam Pomfrey still hadn’t come out to give them any information on Draco’s state of health. Up and down, up and down. Harry clenched his fists. Without news from Madam Pomfrey, without knowing what was wrong with Draco, he didn’t know what to do. Was he simply sick, or was this the result of some extraneous influence? Had he been cursed, while he had been outside, or was it something else entirely?
Up and down, up and down. If Harry didn’t know better, he was sure that he would walk a hole in the ground, when Madam Pomfrey didn’t come out soon.
However, as soon as this thought crossed his mind, the door to the hospital wing opened and Madam Pomfrey appeared in the doorway. Harry immediately stopped and Hermione and Ron stood up and came to stand next to him. The look on Madam Pomfrey’s face didn’t look promising.
“How is he?” Hermione asked with a small quivering voice.
The matron looked up and down the floor and eventually beckoned them to come inside. Once he had stepped through the door, Harry’s eyes immediately landed on Draco’s still form on the far side of the hospital wing. Hermione seemed to have seen him as well, because she immediately stormed up to the bed and sat down on the chair next to it. Harry, Ron and Madam Pomfrey followed her at a slower pace, and Harry noticed again how pale Draco was “ his skin was almost as white as the sheets on the bed.
Once they were all gathered around the bed, the matron said, “Albus will be down here shortly. I would like to wait with my explanations until he is here.”
“No need to wait, Poppy,” Dumbledore’s voice suddenly sounded from the door, as he swiftly made his way up to them. His eyes shone with worry, as he calmly regarded the unconscious young man on the bed. “What did you find out?”
Madam Pomfrey looked at all of them in turn, and in the end her gaze rested on Harry. “I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear that I’ve stabilized Mr. Draconis. For now. His fever is still incredibly high, but I’ve managed to stop it before it could rise further “ however, on the other hand, it won’t break, no matter what I try. I’ve checked his body for all known illnesses and have found none. But I have found something else in his blood and seeing as we don’t know what has induced this state, I’d like to send a sample to St. Mungo’s for further analyzing.”
“No!” Harry snapped, feeling panic rise within him. But he immediately felt sorry for this afterwards and muttered a quick apology. “This isn’t a good idea,” he added quietly. She couldn’t send a sample of Draco’s blood to St. Mungo’s, it was too risky. If the hospital somehow already had a sample of the other Draco’s blood and found out that two samples of apparently two different persons “ one a grown man, the other a baby “ were completely identical, their true identities could be revealed. No, no matter what happened, they couldn’t risk it.
“Care to explain, why not, Mr. Potter?” Madam Pomfrey asked curtly, her voice cold. Harry knew that voice only too well. It meant that whoever was trying to oppose her treating a patient was going to suffer for it. Much. And yet, Harry was at a loss of words, trying to come up with a suitable excuse.
“Maybe I should explain this, Poppy,” Dumbledore said gently, giving Harry a quick glance to tell him that he would handle this. “As you are most-likely aware, Mr. Draconis is a bearer of the Dark Mark, Voldemort’s mark.” Harry ignored the matron’s obvious hiss, as she heard this name, too interested in what kind of story Dumbledore was going to fabricate. “But what you don’t know is that he has contacted me, because he wanted to quit. To make a long story short, Mr. Draconis has been taught all his life the beliefs of a Death Eater, but when he had experienced what this truly meant, he couldn’t take it. He is now under my protection, with a fake name. Nobody else knows this, except for his friends, and I ask you that you won’t tell anyone. It’s imperative for our new colleagues’ lives that no one knows this. Mr. Draconis and his friends already have a bad enough standing as it is, so it won’t do them any good, if the public found out about this.”
Harry’s eyes met Dumbledore’s and he nodded subtly, even though he knew that Draco wouldn’t like being portrayed like that. However, he couldn’t change it and it was necessary. As long as Draco survived and their identities weren’t endangered, Harry didn’t care what stories Dumbledore concocted.
But still, Madam Pomfrey didn’t look very convinced. Harry glanced at Ron, but the redhead only shrugged helplessly. He looked at Hermione out of the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t want to burden her with this, even though she might actually be the one to come up with some persuasive arguments.
However, someone had to say or do something, because Harry knew that Pomfrey sometimes didn’t even listen to Dumbledore, if it somehow interfered with her patients’ wellbeing. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind “ this might be it! “Madam Pomfrey,” Harry began carefully, “I know that in your position as Healer the health of your patient must be your first priority. But, just as Professor Dumbledore already said, it is imperative for not just Draco’s wellbeing, but also for ours, that his true identity remains a secret. If his true identity somehow gets out into the open, we might all die. Seeing as we, Draco’s friends, are in the know about anything that he has heard and seen during his time as Death Eater, all of us are prime targets. Voldemort might even come and do the honour of killing us himself.”
Harry could see the slight widening of the matron’s eyes and he knew he almost had her. One more nudge into the right direction and she would be convinced to let them do it their way.
“Besides, I know that you’re one of the best in your profession “ I admit, I truly admire that you’ve given up a promising career at St. Mungo’s to come to Hogwarts and help children. Not many people would do something like this. This devotion to your job and your abilities convinced me to trust you fully. I just know that you will find out what is wrong with our friend and cure him.”
“And I will help you.”
Harry’s head whirled around and he found himself gazing into Hermione’s determined eyes. She took a deep breath and got up from the chair next to Draco’s bed, straightening her clothes. Her hair and clothes were still a mess, just hurriedly thrown over before heading to Hogwarts, and yet Harry could again the see professional air with which she was carrying herself right now. He should have known it “ Hermione’s way of dealing with a problem was to tackle it head-on, not accepting ‘No’ as answer and doing everything in her might to solve it.
“Mrs. Granger,” Madam Pomfrey said, “I appreciate your willingness, but as far as I know, you’re no trained Healer and I’m not quite sure how you could help me…”
Hermione simply looked at her with a challenging look on her face. “I’ve received eight Outstandings in my N.E.W.T.s and one Exceeds Expectations. I would say I’m more than qualified to help you, at least with your research concerning my boyfriend’s condition. I will help you, whether you like it or not.” To reaffirm her statement, she went to stand directly between Harry and Ron and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
At that moment, Harry felt slightly sorry for Madam Pomfrey. The poor woman kept looking from Dumbledore, to the three of them, to her patient and then again at Dumbledore. She was truly cornered, with no way out. Eventually her shoulders slumped and she heaved a defeated sigh. “Alright, I won’t send a sample of Mr. Draconis’ blood to St. Mungo’s and I won’t tell anyone of this condition. I truly hope, Miss Granger, that you’re as good as you say you are, because after my first examination, I’d say that, to save your boyfriend, we might need a miracle.”
The young woman nodded with grim determination and Harry put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly to reassure her. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed that Ron had done the same and they exchanged a look over her head. It went without saying that they would do whatever they could to help her and to help Draco.
Harry threw another glance to the pale young man. He was still unconscious, too pale and yet his cheeks too flushed and his forehead bathed in sweat. Clenching his other fist he swore under his breath. Whoever did this, whoever was responsible for this, they were going to pay. No one who hurt his friends would get away with it. He wouldn’t show any mercy.
“How is she?” Ron asked wearily from behind a pile of books, as Harry came out of Hermione’s room.
“Asleep,” Harry answered, as he slumped down in his armchair. There was also a book lying in front of him, opened in the middle. He put the red thread between the pages and shut the book, the title reading ‘1001 cures for 1001 illnesses’. Then he grabbed his mug filled with already cold black coffee, grimacing at the bitter taste of this liquid, as he swallowed. He sighed, as he put the now empty mug back on the table, right next to another mug, Hermione’s. The one in which they had slipped some Dreamless Sleep without her knowing.
She would be furious come morning, but it was for the best. She had barely slept that night, first getting to bed late and then waking up to find Draco like this. She would have pulled several all-nighters in a row, if they hadn’t done this, Harry was sure of this, so he and Ron had agreed that they would force her to get at least a full night of uninterrupted sleep, especially after this day. And they would do it again, even though Harry was sure that from now on, Hermione would check both her meals and her beverages for potions.
It was already half past seven, they had missed lunch and dinner in the Great Hall, but thanks to Dumbledore’s understanding, they didn’t need to be present and a house elf would provide them with everything they needed. The only times they had left their common room had been the few times they had gone to the library to get even more heaps of books about all possible topics, searching through them for anything that might at least help them to find out just what was wrong with Draco. Information about illnesses, of both Muggle and wizarding origin, curses, poisons and just Merlin knew what were discarded after one of them had once again gone through a book without success.
Hermione had gotten a sample of Draco’s blood, which she had run through several tests, and she had agreed with Madam Pomfrey that there really was something in his blood that might cause those symptoms. Only, they had still not the slightest idea what it was they had found, even though Hermione was often found kneeling on the floor in front of the fireplace and conversing with Madam Pomfrey through the internal Floo Network of Hogwarts.
In the end, she was even more worked up and burned out than during their third year or before their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, so that Harry and Ron decided during one of Hermione’s trips to the library to ask Madam Pomfrey for some Dreamless Sleep Potion. The Healer had readily agreed, saying that even though Hermione was brilliant, she wouldn’t be of much use, if she didn’t sleep.
“That’s good,” Ron mumbled, rubbing his eyes, as he leaned back in the armchair and closed his book. His blue eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep and reading the whole day. “So, what do we do now?”
Harry looked up and his eyes wandered to one of the windows. It was long dark outside, so that he could see the nearly full moon and the sparkling stars at the completely cloudless sky. He had to admit, he was also dead tired and could fall asleep then and there. But they couldn’t let Hermione down. “We can’t stop yet.” Especially not after they had slipped her that sleeping draught. “Let’s continue, at least a bit longer.”
Ron sighed, but nonetheless leaned over to get another book from the somehow never shrinking pile. “For Hermione,” he murmured, as he opened the book and began to scan the pages for anything that might at least lead to a possible cure.
Nodding, Harry also opened his book again, but didn’t even get to read the first paragraph of that page, because suddenly someone knocked at the portrait. The two young men exchanged a confused look and after a shrug from Ron, telling him that he didn’t expect anyone, Harry rose from the armchair and walked over and opened their portrait. He was surprised to find, not only his parents with his little self in his mother’s arms, but also Molly and Arthur standing in front of their common room. “What are you doing here?” Harry asked them, wide-eyed.
“We heard,” his father simply answered. “May we come in?”
“Of course.” Harry stepped aside to allow their guests entrance. In the meantime Ron had also gotten up from his seat and looked at them with an equally surprised look on his face. As soon as the portrait was closed again, Harry gave them expectant looks. “So, I guess Dumbledore called you then?”
His mother shook her head. “No… After Sirius, Remus and… Peter were gone, I Floo-called Molly to see, if we might come over or if you were already back at Hogwarts.”
“Exactly, and I told her then that you already left this morning because of your friend,” Molly explained.
“And then I called Albus and he gave me a quick overview of the current situation,” Lily finished. “So, how is he?”
“Not good,” Harry told her. “His fever is still too high and he’s still unconscious. We simply have no idea what is wrong with him “ even Madam Pomfrey is at a loss of what to do besides researching.”
“That’s terrible,” Molly gasped. “How’s dear Hermione taking it? Where is she anyway?”
“Asleep.” A deep sigh escaped Harry’s lips, as he ran with his left hand through his unruly black mop of hair. “Why don’t we all sit down? We don’t need to talk about this standing around like this.”
As soon as they all had settled down around the table, with little Harry lying in a crib that had previously been shrunken, Harry and Ron began with their explanation about everything that had happened since they had been woken up that morning by Hermione’s appearance in their room. Their parents were shocked to say the least, and just as clueless as they were. However, they immediately began again to analyze every little detail about the past night, looking just for the tiniest sign.
“Do you think something happened on that walk he took?” Arthur mused, the look on his face thoughtful.
“We’ve already been talking about this,” Harry told them, “but unfortunately the only person who could tell us if anything has happened on that walk is unconscious and can’t tell us one bloody thing!“ Harry balled his fist and let it crash on the table. His nails were digging into his palm and his breath had quickened. This was just so frustrating! How could they find a cure, when they didn’t even know what to look for!
Suddenly, he felt a smaller hand covering his fist and another gently squeezing his shoulder. It was his mother, who was giving him a comforting smile. Much to his astonishment, he immediately began to relax. But he also felt his heart grow heavier at this touch, because it was this that he had missed the most during his childhood. The soothing touches of a mother, the smiles that somehow always manage to lift a child’s heart. All the things he had never known.
“I’m sorry…” Harry apologised, shaking his head slightly and letting some strands of hair that had come loose from the leather cord in the base of his neck, fall into his face. “I guess I’m just tired…”
“Don’t worry, Harry,” James simply said, with an understanding look on his face. “Maybe we should all just get some sleep. It’s really getting late and those last few days…” He shook his head as well. “They’ve truly taken their toll on us all.”
“James is right,” Molly agreed with her no-nonsense voice. “After a full night of sleep the situation will already look completely different. Come on, Arthur, let’s go home so that the boys can go to bed. Goodnight everyone.”
Ron stood to see his parents to the portrait, where his mother hugged him tightly and his father took his leave with a firm grip on his son’s hand. He returned to his armchair after the Weasleys were gone.
“I guess we should go as well,” James said, as he got up. Lily followed shortly after and gathered the sleeping boy in her arms, while her husband was again shrinking the crib and stowing it away in one of the pockets of his robes. “Dumbledore kindly offered us our old guest quarters to use for the night. So we’ll be back first thing in the morning to help you with your research.”
Harry just wanted to open his mouth to say that they didn’t have to help them, but his mother seemed to have read his mind.
“No, Harry, but we want to. They’re your family, and therewith by extension also our family. We can’t let family down and we’ll help you as good and as long as we can.”
“Thank you,” Harry breathed, feeling that a bit of the newly added weight on his shoulders seemed to lift. It was in moments like these that he didn’t know what he had been thinking, when he had decided after fifth year that he could deal with all of this alone. It was his friends and his family that had kept him going for so long.
After Lily and James were gone, Harry and Ron looked at each other and both nodded at the same time. It was no use to continue now. In their current sleep deprived states it was very likely that they missed something. After a short ‘Goodnight’ they disappeared in their bedrooms, both well aware that the forth one was empty.
“Harry Potter! Ronald Weasley! I’m going to kill you!”
Both young men winced remarkably, earning pitying looks from Lily and James, who were sitting across from them at the table, each of them with a thick tome in front of them. Harry and Ron looked at each other and braced themselves for the yelling that was about to ensue the moment Hermione came out of her room.
“How dare you!” Hermione screamed, as she came storming out of her room. She was still wearing the clothes from the previous day and her hair had almost completely returned to its frizzy and bushy state. “How dare you do this to me!” Her voice was quivering and her balled fists shaking with anger, as she stopped in front of them. Ron and Harry had both gotten up, ready to accept their punishment. But they were surprised, when they saw the first tear fall down her face, followed by another and yet another. “I could have found something! I could have used the time, the whole night, to keep looking. We don’t know, what’s wrong with Draco, or how long he still has…”
Harry took a hesitant step forward and put a calming hand on her shoulder. Hermione stared at him with tears streaming down her face, and then, just a second later, she was burying her face in the crook of his neck, sobbing loudly. “Hush,” Harry mumbled, putting his arms around his friend and pulling her close. “It’ll be alright. Ron and I have done more research last night and got up extra early this morning to continue. Mum and dad have also started to help.”
“But…” Hermione mumbled against Harry’s shirt.
“No but, ‘Mione,” Ron told her, “you needed the rest. Look at it this way “ now you’re rested and full of energy. All those books will never know what hit them.”
This caused a small chuckle to escape from Hermione’s throat and she gently stepped out of Harry’s embrace, giving him and Ron a small and shaky, but brave smile. “I’m sorry,” she apologised, wiping the remaining tears away with the sleeve of her blouse. “You’re right…”
“Come on, Hermione,” Lily urged her softly, putting a hand on her arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then you should eat something. And while we’re gone, the boys will keep looking.” While she was gently leading Hermione back to her room, she gave the three men a pointed look, upon which they immediately returned to the books that were lying in front of them, just waiting to be researched.
Hermione and Lily came back about half an hour later. Harry was just putting another useless book on the steadily growing pile as he heard the door. He looked around and smiled at Hermione “ she was looking a lot better now, dressed in new clothes “ jeans and a comfortable sweater “ and had her washed hair pulled back into a thick braid. She was holding her head high and came up to them with a confidence in her steps that belied once again her determination to win this fight. Without even hesitating or saying anything, she sat down on an empty chair at the table, only giving Harry and Ron reassuring smiles, before she grabbed the nearest book and opened it.
“I will go to the kitchens and get us something to eat,” Lily told them, as she passed the kitchen. “Any special wishes or cravings?” As they shook their heads, Lily simply shrugged and left the common room.
However, it didn’t take long for her to come back, but without food. Instead, she was holding a crumbled newspaper in her hands, looking furious. As the newspaper was thrown on the table, the four young people crowded around it started. They didn’t even need to ask what was wrong, as they could all read the heading of the main article on the first side.
The current Potions Professor at Hogwarts, Eirian Draconis, known as Draco among his friends, has been taken to Hogwarts’ hospital wing the previous morning, after he has been found unconscious in his bed, burning with fever. The healer, Madam Pomfrey, of the school doesn’t know the reason for this sudden illness, even after several tests. However, instead of admitting a blood sample of her patient to St. Mungo’s, Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Draconis’s friends convinced her otherwise. He is apparently under Professor Dumbledore’s protection, after having left the Death Eaters, living and teaching at Hogwarts with a fake identity. The author of this article wonders, who this mysterious teacher really is. Is he dangerous? Is he maybe even a spy, only claiming to have denounced the ways of He-who-must-not-be-named? The only thing the author knows for sure is that the young man is currently fighting for his life.
Please read for further discussions page 4, 5 and 9.
R. Montgomery
“This can’t be,” Harry mumbled in disbelief. Just how the hell did this Montgomery-guy once again get the information, and such accurate one on top of that?
Harry looked to his side and saw that Hermione’s eyes were again watery, so he quickly reached out and put his hand over hers. Ron seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because his hand was suddenly lying on her shoulder. In the meantime, James seized the paper and read the article, before quickly crumbling it and throwing the newspaper into the burning fire. “I hate that woman!” he growled.
“What?” Hermione’s head whirled around to him, her eyes wide. “What did you just say?”
“Nothing important,” James shrugged, apparently not wanting to upset her further. “I just said that I hate that Montgomery cow.”
Harry looked at Hermione and thought that he saw some sudden understanding in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had come and she was already shaking her head and returning back to her book. Ron, Harry and his parents only exchanged one last glance before giving the books in front of them their full attention. The story Dumbledore had fed Madam Pomfrey was now out in the open, but it didn’t matter. Right now only one thing mattered - Draco.
The following days passed in a similar manner. The three time travellers would get up early in the morning and, after a quick breakfast, immediately continue to research. Sometime in the morning, Lily and James and sometimes even Molly and Arthur joined them in their quest. But they were still without success “ not one of those books they had perused until now had had any information they might find useful. It almost seemed as if the illness or whatever it was didn’t exist.
However, they knew that they needed to find something soon. While Draco’s state of health hadn’t gotten worse, it also hadn’t gotten better. He hadn’t woken up once, his fever neither breaking nor rising. Hermione had taken to gather a huge pile of books everyday and go to the hospital wing, to keep Draco company and to try to find a cure at the same time. Everyone was worried for him and the day after tomorrow the new term would start, without, seemingly, a teacher for Potions.
“You were lucky,” Harry hissed, surveying the almost empty dark room in front of him. Only one person was present, kneeling in front of him, clad in black robes and a white mask covering their face. The hood of the person was lowered, revealing black greasy hair that hung limply down past the Death Eater’s shoulders. “That you still achieved your goal, even though you got the wrong person.”
“I know, my Lord,” a male voice replied.
“However, I won’t accept any more of your blunders. Your new position is extremely important for me. I need you to gather as much information as inconspicuously as possible. Remember,” he added, a cruel smirk gracing his lips, “the old fool may never know.”
“I understand my Lord.”
“Do you really? Well, let’s just give you a reminder of what will not only happen to you, should you fail. Crucio!”
The man began to scream, writhing on the ground. His head started to hurt, to burn, as if it split open and he wanted nothing more than to scream along with him.
Harry woke up, bathed in sweat and his scar hurting like hell. Closing his eyes again, he took deep breaths, trying to calm his thumping heart, and put the cool back of his hand against his forehead. He lay there like this for a few minutes, until he felt it safe to get up. His legs felt like jelly, as he staggered into the bathroom. Leaning heavily with one had against the sink, he opened the tap and let the cold water stream down the basin. A look into the mirror told him that he didn’t just feel like shit, but also looked like shit. The dark circles underneath his eyes and the red scar were a stark contrast to his pale skin. He had completely forgotten which effect the Cruciatus usually had on him, when he was trapped in a vision.
After having washed his face thoroughly with the nearly freezing water, Harry went back to bed and closed his eyes. Needless to say he didn’t get much more sleep that night.
Harry was woken up the following morning by loud pounding on his door. It was Ron, telling him to get up. “We just got a message from Dumbledore,” he called through the door. “There’s a staff meeting scheduled in thirty minutes.”
Sighing, Harry told him that he was up and went into the bathroom for a quick shower, hoping that he would look better and more awake than he felt afterwards. Ron and Hermione were already waiting for him “ Lily and James had not arrived yet “ and together they went through the still nearly deserted halls of Hogwarts to the staffroom. They were the last ones to arrive and sat down in their regular seats. Harry noticed at once Hermione’s pained look, as her gaze landed on Draco’s empty chair.
“Welcome, my dear colleagues, to this sudden and unscheduled staff meeting,” Dumbledore greeted them, once everyone was seated. “I’m sure you wonder, what this is all about, so I won’t beat around the bush. This meeting is about the situation concerning Professor Draconis. As his state is unchanged, I was forced to take measures to ensure our students’ Potions classes in the future. To do this, I’ve hired an old student of our school, a true master in the area of potion making. Dear colleagues, I would like you all to welcome our temporary Potions teacher.”
The door to the staffroom was opened and none other than Severus Snape strode inside, his robes billowing behind him.