A/N: This is more of a transition chapter...it's not my favorite at all, but hopefully it will set up for the next chapter!
“Bring that potion over here! Hurry!” Healers bustled around, trying to stabilize Mrs. Potter. This current case was puzzling to the Healers; they had dealt with Dark Magic millions of times before, but this was something entirely different. Mrs. Potter was cursed and unconscious. Her arm was black as if the flesh had been burnt away. Her hair was wispy and dull, despite her age, and her entire body just seemed too still. In fact, except for her shallow breathing, Mrs. Potter looked dead. Time after time, Healers tried to cure an injury on Mrs. Potter, but it was as if the injuries were resistant to all treatments. Nothing the Healers were doing was working. Nothing.
“Has anyone found a cure for that arm?” yelled the main Healer in frustration. She had been working on Ginny since the moment she had arrived, and after hours of attempted healing, Healer Nicole’s confusion, despair, and fear for this woman’s life was at its highest level.
“Nothing is helping! Her arm especially is rejecting any treatment,” another Healer cried back, all the while trying different spells to cure the woman.
Suddenly, Ginny Potter started to thrash around. Her eyes popped open for the first time, and her mouth formed a silent scream.
“Secure her!”
More Healers quickly ran over to hold down the red-haired woman, but they shouldn’t have bothered. As quickly as the spasm came, it was gone, leaving Ginny even more lifeless than before.
“Get Mr. Potter in here immediately ,” initiated Nicole, pouring down another potion in her patient’s throat.
“He left,” began another Healer.
“Then find him. Tell him”Tell him his wife is getting worse.”
The Healer quickly rushed out of the room. Nicole sighed; it was happening again. Dark Magic was creeping through the walls of Great Britain, and another battle seemed to be gathering in the streets.
How many more will have to die? Nicole had time to wonder briefly before a shout erupted in the hall. The same Healer who had ran out a moment or two ago had returned. Nicole glanced at him; the Healer’s face had gone pale and his eyes darted around in fear.
“Mr. Potter’s here,” he whispered.
“Then bring him in,” began Nicole slowly, not understanding why this Healer looked so terrified.
“He’s”Mr. Potter”He’s””
“Spit it out!”
“Harry Potter’s not breathing!” finished the Healer with a wail.
Sharp intakes resounded throughout the room. Nicole gasped. She had been right. Another war was to take place, but this time, Harry Potter, “The Savior”, may not be here to stop it.
Hermione stirred the murky potion. She had been formulating this concoction for an hour now, but it turned out wrong every time she attempted it. It was as if the potion itself was resisting her. Hermione huffed. She had always been adept at Potions, especially since she had become a Healer. So why wasn’t this stupid thing working? What was she doing wrong? After the potion once again turned the wrong color, Hermione was at her wit’s end. Frustrated beyond belief, Hermione, for what seemed like the tenth time, read the ingredients.
“What am I missing besides the last two ingredients?” Hermione wondered out loud. “I have the Dragon blood, thanks to Charlie. I have Grawp’s blood, Troll blood, and Thestral blood from Hogwarts. The Doxy venom came from Grimmauld Place; that place still needs to be cleaned out. I’ll have to remind Harry. The potion should be simmering with a red cloud above it; at least, that’s what the book said. Why isn’t it working?
Hermione glanced at her watch; over seven hours had passed since Harry had told her about Ginny. Hermione bit her lip nervously. Where was Harry? Shouldn’t he be back by now? The young Healer quickly brushed off her worries, concentrating on the page in front of her. Hermione quickly scanned over the passage she had found in a book after searching for hours in Grimmauld Place’s library.
Possibly one of the most gruesome cures, the Sacrifice Potion holds the key to curing a most ancient protection curse. Blood from all living sorts in the vicinity must be added and continued to be added. Ingredients include one drop of Dragon blood and Giant Blood, two drops of Thestral blood and Troll blood mixed together, Doxy venom, and the two key ingredients, the cursed one’s and the curser’s blood.
Place boiling water on the cauldron and drop in the Dragon blood. Stir thirty times and at the seventh stir, drop in the Giant blood. Continue until the thirty stirs are up. Wait five minutes and put the Thestral and Troll blood in. Repeat the last step every five minutes. After twenty minutes of simmering, the Doxy venom should be placed in the cauldron. The potion should turn from its crimson state to a stunning thick blue. A red cloud should then appear above the potion. Finally, let the potion sit for two minutes. The cursed one’s and curser’s blood may be put in at any time after the potion settles. The potion, when all ingredients are in, should have a dark cloud of smoke hovering above it. After that, it needs to simmer for seven minutes and can then be taken. Good luck to the maker.
Blood from all living sorts in the vicinity must be added and continued to be added. Hermione reread. This line had been baffling her ever since she had picked up the book. The line was placed randomly into the passage. But what did it mean? She had placed the amount of blood needed inside the cauldron, so why wasn’t this potion a success? Hermione pursed her lips, determined to find the answer. Blood from all living sorts in the vicinity must be added and continued to be added. Literally, the line meant that all living creatures in the area need to give blood. Hermione glanced at the books again. Possibly one of the most gruesome cures, the Sacrifice Potion holds the key to curing a most ancient protection curse. The Sacrifice potion holds the key…The Sacrifice Potion…A look of comprehension appeared on Hermione’s face. As she had many times before, she had found the correct answer.
I need to put in my blood because I’m making it. Hermione thought. Blood from all sorts in the vicinity must be added and continued to be added. Continued to be added…my blood needs to flow the entire time. How can I give that much blood? It would kill me. The Sacrifice potion. That’s why it’s called that! I have to sacrifice myself to let another live. But, Snape didn’t die; how did he do it? Hermione’s thought flowed, trying to piece together the unraveling mystery.
“HERMIONE!”
Hermione jumped as Ron burst into the room. She turned to see her husband panting as if out of breath and holding their children”the same two she had just placed into bed an hour ago.
“Ron,” Hermione scolded, “Why on earth did you wake those two up? You know they will never get back to sleep! Plus I’m trying to create this potion. I need to concentrate!”
Hermione glared at her husband’s face, but the expression faded from her face as she observed the whiteness of Ron’s face and the fear in his eyes.
“’Mione, it’s Harry!”
“W-What happened?” stuttered Hermione, panic creeping throughout her body. Seven hours. Hermione suddenly remembered. Seven hours with no word heard from Harry.
“He’s at St. Mungo’s…”whispered Ron.
“And?” Hermione asked quietly.
“And they don’t know if he’s” if he’s”” started Ron, holding the twins tightly.
“”alive…?” finished Hermione in a whisper.
Ron gave a brief nod before Hermione flung herself at him.
“I thought this was over!” she sobbed, tears running down her face.
“What was over?” asked Ron in confusion.
“T-this w-war. T-this l-life of f-fear!” answered Hermione shrilly, tears running down her face.
“I thought so too,” he whispered.
“Now t-that Voldemort’s gone, o-our l-lives should be at rest! W-We shouldn’t h-h-have to worry about w-who will l-li-live or d-die!” cried Hermione.
“Shh,” soothed Ron, trying to hold three people at once, “We went through this once, we can do it again.”
“But if Harry’s”” began Hermione.
“He’d not dead,” Ron said firmly. “Harry’s tough; some b””
“D-Don’t swear in front of the c-children! I won’t have that l-language coming out of their m-m-mouths!” reprimanded Hermione sharply through her sobs.
“Voldemort couldn’t break Harry and neither will Lestrange,” continued Ron, a hard look in his eyes.
Hermione nodded, wiping her tears away with her hands.
“We’re strong, Hermione. Just as our parents fought for us, we need to fight for our children, now,” said Ron firmly.
Hermione looked at her twins, her determined demeanor coming back as thoughts of fighting for Myra and Jason crossed her mind.
“Let’s take the Floo Network,” Hermione said abruptly before taking Myra and setting off for the fireplace. It may have seemed as if new-found confidence was surging through her, but inside, she was breaking. How many more would have to die?
Ron watched as his wife’s now confident figure spun away. He couldn’t help but shake his head. What was with women and their mood swings? Ron glanced at the unfinished potion, thinking of Ginny. Before he turned himself towards the fireplace, one last thought crossed his mind. How many more would have to die?
A Death Eater’s Revenge by Phenioxsong22
Chapter Notes: Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K. Rowling