Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Awakening To the Dream	By : ChimaeraChan Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 45316 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-CH1
- 2-CH2
- 3-CH3
- 4-CH4
- 5-CH5
- 6-CH6
- 7-CH7
- 8-Ch8
- 9-Ch9
- 10-Ch10
- 11-CH11
- 12-CH12
- 13-CH13
- 14-CH14
- 15-CH15
- 16-CH16
- 17-CH17
- 18-CH18
- 19-Ch19
- 20-CH20
- 21-CH21
- 22-Ch22
- 23-CH23
- 24-CH24
- 25-CH25
- 26-CH26
- 27-CH27
- 28-CH28
- 29-CH29
- 30-CH30
- 31-CH31
- 32-CH32
- 33-CH33
- 34-CH34
- 35-CH35
- 36-CH36
- 37-CH37
- 38-CH38
- 39-CH39
- 40-CH40
- 41-Ch41
- 42-Ch42
- 43-Ch43
- 44-Ch44
- 45-Ch45
- 46-Ch46
- 47-Ch47
- 48-Ch48
- 49-Ch49
- 50-Ch50 *End Part 1*
- 51-Ch51
- 52-Ch52
- 53-Ch53
- 54-Ch54
- 55-Ch55
- 56-CH56
- 57-CH57
- 58-CH58
- 59-CH59
- 60-CH60
- 61-CH61
- 62-CH62
- 63-CH63
- 64-CH64
- 65-CH65
- 66-CH66
- 67-CH67 *New 6/6/2015*
- 68-CH68
- 69-CH69
- 43
- 44
- 45
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

CH44
“Quiet now. It should be empty but I’ll check it out just incase.” Neville peeked into his dorm room, carefully scanning the room only to be pushed inside by a very annoyed Slytherin.
“I’ve gotten the equivalent of two hours of sleep. I fear for the idiot who decided to sleep in today.” Draco snarled, stomping into the room and offering a hand to Neville who had fallen to the ground. “Let’s get this over with already. Where are the birds…?” He froze as his eyes caught sight of the raven like creatures sitting on the sill who were watching him back just as intently. “…Those aren’t birds.”
“Shit, man, last night wasn’t fun for me either, Malfoy. Give me a break. I’m skipping class for you.” Neville growled, pulling his robes back in order and patting his hair down.
Draco snorted distractedly, stepping through the mess around Seamus’ bed, eyes locked on the two fae. “Like you’re missing much. You’re monstrous at potions… oh… dear… gods…”
“Hey, I’m tons better without Snape there to scare me senseless.” Neville huffed, folding his arms and following Draco’s gaze to the side where Harry’s trunk lay innocently. “Problem?”
Draco shook his head dazedly. “Can’t you smell that?”
Neville scrunched his nose but took a hesitant sniff around Harry’s trunk anyways. “Dusty books, dirt, bit of blood there, and…” He raised a brow and straightened. “Sweat. He should have washed before he packed his clothes. Rather rank… Malfoy?” He watched in confusion as Draco threw himself on the trunk and embraced it blissfully. “…You know what? I don’t want to know.” He shook his head and sat down on Harry’s bed, letting Draco do whatever it was he was doing in peace. The sad part was that he knew a part of Malfoy was quite vehemently telling himself he was being a fool and should stop smelling Harry’s belongings.
“Hey, help me open this latch.” Draco asked rather breathlessly, pulling uselessly at the padlock on Harry’s trunk. Hell, if he could get something to cuddle up in he might even be able to get some sleep… not that anyone ever needed to know that. “Why… won’t… this stupid thing open?!”
“The boy is unstable, perhaps insane.”
“Here, let me try—” Neville pulled out his wand but had to jump back to keep Draco from smacking him. “Hey!”
“Don’t hey me. I can’t help being like this.”
“I know that, Malfoy.” Neville rolled his eyes and pointed at the trunk. “Now, are you done throwing a tantrum so we can open this or are you going to spaz out at me some more?”
Draco put his hands on his hips and glared. “I think you owe me an apology. I have enough problems as it is without you rubbing my face in my fucked up instincts.”
“I think the insane one is going to fight.”
“Should we protect the trunk?”
Eyes narrowed, Draco turned his head towards the whispering voices, tapping the new earring on his ear. “Who the hell are you calling insane?”
Neville jumped, quite seriously wondering if Malfoy hadn’t lost his mind during the night. “I didn’t call you anything!”
“Not you, Nevvy; them!” Draco snarled at the two who had fallen silent to stare blankly at the boys. “Oh, don’t play dumb with me. I can understand you even if you were just plain old birds.” He pointed triumphantly to his earring, realizing the instant he did that he must look like a complete fool. Neville’s expression pretty much confirmed it. “Uh… it translates languages… Potter gave it to me… stop looking at me like that!” Draco huffed, blowing a stray lock out of his face before regaining his train of thought. “You called me insane, you little bastards!”
The fae exchanged looks, but by the way they nodded and gestured, Draco was rather certain they were communicating telepathically. Finally, the one with blue markings sang. “You’ve yet to prove our assumption wrong. Where did you get that ring?”
Draco glared, not feeling generous at all. “What’s it to you, bird brain?”
Yehl shifted, her bird form growing larger and menacing until she nearly filled the small area between Harry’s bed and the window. Long beak snapping and double talons gleaming as she stretched them out to wrap around Draco’s shirtfront, she repeated her question. “Where did you get that ring?”
“Fuck off.” Draco hissed. He yanked his shirt from the deadly claws but made no move to back down. “I’m not some ignorant muggle, faeling. You have no right to threaten me.”
“For gods sake, Malfoy. Stop yelling at them.” Neville whispered desperately, pulling lightly on the boy’s arm to move them away from the angry beings. Malfoy refused to budge.
“I’m waiting, little owl.” The insult was small, but he knew any fae would feel it, being lowered to a mere messenger.
“You insolent—!”
“It’s alright, Roariel.” Yehl gave her companion a sharp look before turning back to Draco. “Forgive us. We did not realize you could understand our language.”
Draco sneered at the two for a long moment, but eventually nodded. “Yeah, well, you were half right anyways. I’m quite aware of how mad I’m getting.” He grumbled before adding louder. “The earring was a gift from Potter.”
“A gift?” Yehl’s red eyes gleamed suspiciously.
“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re thinking. Potter was being a goof and gave it to me. A friendship ring of sorts…” He blushed then, not sure why, but very red anyways. “Anyways, it was completely legit. He asked me to speak with you but failed to mention why or what about, but I’m here doing my part.” He immediately snapped his mouth shut to cease his awkward rambling and glared, letting the fae get to their part in the matter.
“And you experience no side effects from the ring, child? No discomfort, no pain?”
“I wouldn’t be wearing it if I did.” Draco replied flippantly.
Yehl gave him a hard look before a shiver took her form and she stood, tall and human for the most part in her flaring shirt and shorts. She reached a clawed hand towards Draco, pausing centimeters from the dark ring glittering on his ear. The boy’s breath hitched but he didn’t step back, his face set against her razor like talons. Even that far away she could feel the power crackling from the Hearken Ring, threatening to injure her if she touched it. She gave the boy a thorough look, reading his power carefully before understanding dawned.
“You are one of his.” Yehl said with a dark twist of her lips. Here, inches away, was her replacement. It was good the boy wasn’t quite sane after all; he would need the reckless bravery in the future.
“I have no idea what you are referring to.” Draco growled, raising his head high even though the movement caused the claws by his face to graze his neck.
“Oh, I think you do, child.” Yehl lowered her hand and perched herself on the edge of the windowsill, Roariel settling on her shoulder. “You are one of my master’s chosen. And he has sent you here to let me know he is alive and not in need of my services at this time. In fact, I believe this meeting’s true reason is for me to start training you in your new duties.” Yehl tilted her head. “Starting with… focusing of magic and power.”
Following Yehl’s gaze, Draco fingered the collar around his neck. Sighing deeply, he gave a nod of assent. “How soon?”
“A few days, if you have enough stamina.” Yehl promised, chirping in amusement at how quickly she had tamed the Candidate. “It is a powerful restraint and I am not willing to sacrifice the energy it would take for me to remove it myself. The experience will be good for you.”
Isn’t it always. Draco rolled his eyes and turned to more pressing matters. “Would you mind removing whatever spell you put on Potter’s trunk? I need—uh… a shirt of his.” Why did he keep on blushing? Bloody.
“I suppose, dragon.” Yehl smiled at the boy’s fluster and waved her hand, the trunk snapping open.
Draco resisted the urge to say thanks, peering in dismay at the mess of contents strew about in the trunk. As much as the chaos repelled him, the divine scent coming from it sent his head reeling until the edges of his sight blurred and he found himself elbow deep in the mess, head buried in a pile of clothes.
“Er, you okay there, Malfoy?” Neville edged closer, sure to keep Yehl and her friend at arms length. He wasn’t quite sure, but it seemed like the boy might be crying. “I doubt it’s going to be permanent. Once Harry gets back it’ll work itself out. You’ll see.”
Shoulders heaving, Draco pulled his face away from Harry’s ratty T-shirt to laugh aloud. “This is just the beginning. Once Potter gets here, hopefully alive, it’ll hit the next phase and I’ll have to fight and if I live through that it’ll only hit the final phase and I’ll be his bloody drone. And I don’t care! I should, hell I should, but I don’t.” He buried his head again, hoping to stop the hysterical sound his laugh had turned into.
“Bit of a drama queen, eh?” Roariel chirped, floating to where Draco was and landing lightly on the cover edge of the trunk. “Perhaps you should just put him out of his misery, Chief. I can’t imagine he’ll be much help to the Heir.”
Draco stiffened, eyes flashing a warning before he lunged at the fae, getting a fair deal of tail feathers and a scratch to his hand for his troubles. “Listen, you little bugger. This is me dealing. If I want to bitch, I’ll bitch! It doesn’t stop me from doing what I have to do!”
“Roariel, that will do.” Yehl gave her friend a small smile to take the edge off of her order. “Antagonizing each other will do nothing for our cause and will only bring the Heir’s wrath. Come here child; I can help ease some of the madness for now.” She held her hands open to Draco, who stumbled over dragging Harry’s slacks with him. “Things will be hard for you in the beginning without him near. You awoke with him, yes?”
Nodding, Draco let the fae place her clawed hands to his head and sighed as some of the crazed energy that had been growing in him calmed. “I was there the night it began. I didn’t realize the effect he had on me until he was gone.”
“Not to worry, child. Our poor New Born suffers far more without your calming presence, I think. For the newborns, the one they awake with forms a natural bond for security. At this stage he will be missing you greatly.”
“Uh, I guess so. He asked for one of my shirts…” Oh, there was that stupid blush again.
“The scent.” Yehl smiled understandingly. “I know a spell that will help you. Roariel there was quite distraught being so long away from me. There are ways to ease the effects.”
Draco eyed the still feathered fae. “How long have you two had to deal with, uh, it?”
“It works differently for us fae. Roariel has just entered into adulthood and I was chosen as sponsor. Our bond will be forever, but the first six months or so are when withdrawal is felt. Anything dealing with the Heir will be unique but… I suspect that things will change for you once your seal is removed.”
Draco nodded weakly. Six months sounded horrifying and that was only if his seal was removed. Of course if his seal were removed, that would mean he had to fight for the right to be Soul Vigil. He bit his lip and shuffled back over to Harry’s trunk, pulling a pile of clothes into his lap and hugging them tightly.

*******

“My, my, you’re even more sexy on your back…”
Pulling his eyes away from their fixed place on the ceiling, Blaise gave the new arrival an annoyed glare. Gaping in surprise, he struggled to get up, only to have a guiding hand help him into a sitting position. “Mr. Griffith, what are you doing here?”
“Why, I came to see you, sexy.” Lesley gave the boy an approving look. “Hogwarts hospital issued gowns never looked better.”
“Er… Mr. Griffith—was there a particular reason…?” Blaise trailed off, going light headed as the hand that had been supporting him slid over his arm in an overly friendly manner.
Meeting Blaise’s eyes, Lesley leaned in close, watching silently as the boy blushed and swallowed thickly. He let the boy sweat it out for a minute before smiling widely and smacking him lightly on the back. “Ha! As fetching a shade of red you’ve gone, love, I’ve got my eye on someone and he’s very particular about dallying. No, I am here, as I said, to check up on you. Unfortunately, your dear uncle will be unable to at this time.”
“Oh, is he alright? I didn’t think a little thing like that Gryphon would keep Uncle Clive from his promise…” A cold trill of fear shivered down his spine, dismissing the playful mood of earlier. “He is well, right? I mean, if one thing my uncle does, is know how to keep promises. When I was eight he fought his way through a jungle for five days just to be able to fire-call me with a happy birthday. I barely got to speak with him last night and the last time we really talked was right before I started Hogwarts. He’d never—”
“Hush now. You’re only working yourself into a frenzy, love. It’s not good in your condition and will only send the lovely Madame Pomfrey howling at us.” Lesley distracted the boy with rearranging his blankets and pillows until Blaise had become more sensible. “Clive is with Harry.”
Blaise bit his lip. “…Potter?”
“Yes, and we both know if anyone can help him, it’s Harry.”
“Yeah… yeah, alright. I’ll buy that for now.” Blaise gave a hesitant nod, hand grabbing blindly at his braids and tugging. “You’ll tell me if things change, right? Grandmum would flip if anything happened to him and you know how she can get. She’ll withdraw all support from the Council and…”
“Not to worry. I’ll see to it personally.” He didn’t offer up what was actually wrong with Clive and Blaise never asked. He knew the boy suspected it was bad, though, and he didn’t need to confirm those suspicions when Blaise was fighting his own health problems. Two months after his exritus and Blaise was still an almost permanent resident of the Hospital Ward, the stack of cards and personal items by his bed ever growing. There really was no precedence when faced with transforming exritus after all these years, but Longbottom and Malfoy had been fine after a month and the odds weren’t looking good for the young incubus. If not for Poppy, he suspected Blaise wouldn’t have made it past the first week.
“I need to speak with some people but I’ll be back to say goodbye.” He gave Blaise a reassuring pat, carefully untangling the boy’s clutching hands from the death grip he had on his hair. “Rest up, sexy. The last thing you want is your uncle worrying about you.”
Leaving the boy to his thoughts, Lesley walked over to the office found in the inner hospital and peeked in. As he suspected, Madame Pomfrey’s familiar, if not older, form was bustling over some papers at the desk. “Good afternoon, Poppykins.”
Startled, Poppy looked up, a smile lighting up her face. “Heavens, I haven’t heard that nickname in ages. You come here, Lezzy-lizard, and give me a proper hello!” Standing, she let herself be swooped up into a bear hug, her legs dangling off the floor in the taller man’s embrace.
“Just look at you, you’re just like the day I met you, dear. All strapping and charming as always while I’ve gone quite gray.” Feet firmly on the ground, she straightened her hair, beaming happily. “How is everything?”
“Come now, Poppykins, you’re just as beautiful as that shining little girl who assaulted my leg with bandages many years ago. Even then you knew you’d be a healer, helping any who needed it.”
“Oh dear, not another, Lezzy! Every time I see you, you’re dragging the half dead with you.” She gave him a harsh look. “Another pub fight? You know you’re hell with alcohol in your system.”
Lesley grinned sheepishly. “I’m barely in the door and you’re lecturing me already? Same old Poppy.”
“Don’t you start with that, Lesley Griffith. Trouble follows you like a wayward dog and I’ve cleaned up enough of your messes to know as much.”
“I swear it wasn’t my fault this time!” Wilting under Poppy’s glare, he held his hands up as a shield. “I want to see a smile or you’re not getting your gift.”
“Gift?” Raising a brow, Poppy let her face change back to her more pleasant demeanor. “You do realize you’re against a wall here, Lezzy. The better the gift the more suspicious I’m going to get.”
“Tut, love. Once you see this you won’t be able to even think of forming a frown.” With a flourish, he summoned up a long, purple-blue bottle. “I snagged it from His special stash when I was but a mere lad. The best of the best. Had my hide whipped raw when I was caught but he never got the bottle from me.” He held the bottle out so Madame Pomfrey could observe it. “For you, my love.”
Hands hovering inches from the rare liquor as if it was too impossible to be real, Poppy read the label and gave a small squeal of delight. “Oh my, Lezzy. This is priceless, Indigo Sky… you’ve must have crippled some Aurors, maimed some muggles, and thrown the Minister’s back out to be giving me this.”
“None of the above, my dear. No, no, I will not take no for an answer. It is a gift. It was only gathering dust in it’s first home and in mine as well. I know you will appreciate it far more than me.” He placed the bottle firmly in her hands and took a small step back. “Now, on a totally different topic, I do need a favor, Poppykins.”
“Oh, I knew it! Why do you do this to me? Now I can’t even begin to be properly angry.” Poppy huffed, clutching the bottle close to her and sitting carefully on the edge of her desk. “Well, spit it out. The faster we get over this crisis the sooner I can crack this baby open.”
Lesley pulled one of the wooden back chairs up and took a seat in front of the witch, using the time to collect his thoughts. “Well, I guess first I need to know how far you got in the private study you began twenty years ago, love. Did you find passage to the Unvoiced? Was what you needed there?”
“Lezzy, you know I cannot speak of that.”
“I know, I know. I’m not asking for specifics, I just need to know if your research was ever completed.”
Poppy gave him a hard look. “I cannot speak of it. It isn’t personal; I was enchanted so that anything related to what I learned could not be leaked to outsiders. But yes, my research was completed, for the most part.”
“I’m an outsider now?” Lesley said with a false sense of hurt.
Poppy wasn’t fooled. “Don’t you start with me on that. You are not a leading researcher in the field of ancient healing techniques and treatments for magical sentient beings, meaning you are an outsider in this case. Now get to the point, love.”
“Ah, well, needless to say, I believe you’re my only hope in this one, Poppy. Er, besides my great ancestor, but something tells me he will be less than generous in this situation.”
“You are rambling, man. The point already!” A rap to her desk emphasized her insistence.
“Yes, well—gods, Poppy, don’t wave that around like that!” Standing to keep the woman from breaking the bottle by accident, he whispered quickly. “There are two at White Towers suffering from dangerous conditions as a result to their exritus. One of them is the Heir. I need your expertise or I’m afraid things could get very nasty.”
Taking a deep breath, Poppy carefully placed the bottle down and stumbled around her cluttered desk so she could slump safely in her chair.
“It’s not a permanent thing; I can bring you up and have you back by the next day.” He lowered his voice again. “Blaise’s uncle is in a coma. Some sort of delayed exritus as a result of coming in contact with the Heir. No one knows what to do.”
“It’s not that, Lez.” Poppy sighed, finally speaking. “I want to help of course. But I have a responsibility to all these children.”
“It’s only a day, love. We can floo you in and out just like that.”
“Lesley Griffith, you of all people know what their kind is like. If something goes wrong, I could very well be killed for failing to save them. As a healer in that field, I have come to terms with such consequences, but as the only mediwitch in this school, the rules change.”
Lesley reached over and took her hands in his. “Poppy, I can confidently assure that no harm will come to you while in my care. The Heir is a human who has become something more, not an arrogant beast like the other brothers. If he is not well in time for his coronation it will have to be postponed and that could prove disastrous. You can take the time to call in a temporary replacement if you feel the need. Gather up any work you think will help you with this. Any tools, potions, all that stuff.”
“Now hold on—”
“Oh, don’t pretend you haven’t already made up your mind. I can read your face like a book.”
Poppy narrowed her eyes. “You’re still a smug bastard. I will need an hour to get everything sorted out.”
“Thank you, Poppykins. You’ve really saved us here.”
“Yes, yes, I’ve grown accustomed to saving that fit bum of yours, Lezzy.” Poppy stood and began rifling through papers in the filing cabinet behind her. “Have you made the rounds yet?”
“Somewhat. I had a nice chat with old Dumbly and I was just about to go pull Minny out of her Transfiguration class for a quick lunch. Did you need anything from me, or should I just meet you here in an hour?”
“No, scoot with you. You’ll only get underfoot.” Poppy teased, shooing him out the door with a laugh. “Do be careful not to bother the other patients. They need their rest.” She added with a stern frown but it didn’t last because inwardly she was cheering at the chance to put her favorite studies to practical use. The Zabini boy had been her first real test, and things were going well, albeit slowly, with him. Now she actually had a chance to treat the Heir, an honest to goodness god. It was an opportunity of a lifetime, a thousand lifetimes!
Humming to herself, she turned back to her office and began gathering up her old files that may help in the task ahead.

*******

Hushed walls and empty doorways greeted them. Poppy’s heels sounded loud in the dimly lit corridor where the afternoon sunlight barely seemed to penetrate, as Lesley quickly led her through the maze of hallways. Once arriving at White Towers, her friend had become quite agitated and she wasn’t sure if the sudden gravity of the situation had just hit him and her help was needed immediately, or if she wasn’t being smuggled into the castle against orders. Halting Lesley before he could open the towering door that opened to the stables, she gave him a pointed stare.
Lesley smiled sheepishly and shook his head. “Not here, Poppykins. I’ll explain once you’re safely back at Hogwarts.” He pushed the door open and led her in, shutting the door firmly behind them. “This way, love. He’s right behind this corner here.”
Poppy took a good look around, not quite sure what to think. It certainly wasn’t a hospital. Bales of hay and bags of feed were littered around the huge space separated by a variety size of stalls created for housing all different types of animals. At least the place felt more alive than the rest of the castle, warm light bouncing in through narrow windows, and the stone walls seemed less cold and more secure. Her eyes were drawn to the shadows in the farthest corner to her right; large shadowed beings with crystal blue eyes peered back out at her. The menacing beaks that could likely tear a man in two did nothing to destroy the cozy atmosphere, although she couldn’t explain why. Reasoning that they must be tamed, as most beast housed in a stable were, she followed the shadows down to the floor, her eyes catching and holding the talons tapping next to something recognizable. A shoe, the leg still attached, was poking out limply from the shadows.
“Lezzy…?”
“Not to worry, love. The Gryphons are guarding the sleeping Heir. No one is injured.” Taking the woman’s arm, Lesley walked her around a pile of hay to where Clive lay, Jacques checking the status spells he had set up around the man. “Jacques Tudor, this is Poppy Pomfrey. She will be assisting us for the day.”
“Madame Pomfrey, you honor us.” Jacques stood and brushed his hands free of hay before grasping Poppy’s. “Please forgive the disarray. We didn’t have the chance to move him and now that the opportunity is here we felt it would be best to leave him where the magic levels are lowest in the castle.”
“Well, it’s a little unprofessional but it doesn’t seem any harm was done. He has no allergies to the materials here, correct?”
“Not that I know of. Clive practically lives out here.”
Poppy nodded, and gave a small smile, her eye’s twinkling in excitement. “Good, good. Let me get things organized and I’ll have a look see.” Pulling out her wand, she began unshrinking the records she brought with her and quickly transfigured a more suitable hospital bed. “If you two strapping men would kindly lift Mr. Forrestal up, I will sterilize the area and clear out all this hay.”
Settling Clive on the crisp sheets, Lesley and Jacques stepped back to let the woman do what she was best at, and in short time the area was cleared and sparkling, new extensive status wards set up as well as a long table with chairs to house visitors and Poppy’s equipment. “Alright, Mr. Forrestal, let’s see what’s going on in there.” Hands hovering over Clive’s stilled form, colors began to swirl around his aura. What was a pretty diversion to the untrained eye was a plethora of information for the healer and, without any explanation, Poppy turned and began pulling out ingredients from her bag, preparing some sort of potion.
“Lesley, I need soluth. It’s too finicky for floo travel but I suspect you must have something in the castle stores.”
“I know where it is.” Jacques said briskly, moving to leave.
“Oh, and thes-cord, if you have it.” Poppy called after him before he left.
“Is it hopeful, then?” Lesley asked, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet and staring down at Clive. The man looked so pale and helpless, so unlike the boisterous boy he had first met only ten years ago.
“I can’t make promises, of course. But I think we have a very good shot at this. The coma he’s in is deep but I think if we can treat what caused it, we can pull him out.” Summoning up a set of vials and measuring devices, Poppy began carefully pouring ingredients into her small cauldron, setting the flame low while rechecking her notes. “The brain has shut down from the shock caused by the magic awakening in his body. But, it’s not completely unnatural. It’s common for those who have experienced powerful exritus to be knocked out for short periods of time as a sort of recovery period. Normally, I’d say we should just let nature take it’s course, but… I’m afraid something else is involved.”
Poking at the potion with her wand, she gave a grim smile as it slowly turned blue and began to bubble. “I’m amazed he’s as well off as he is. There is a reason an exritus occurs at the age it does. A fully matured body suffers far more duress. That, combined with the near instant transformation that normally takes weeks to complete, I think Mr. Forrestal is quite lucky to be in one piece.”
“Well, he had some help.” Lesley sent a smile towards Harry’s sleeping foot. “I should probably let you know that Clive has had at least four energy transfers today, so that may effect your scans.”
Poppy nodded, eyes intent on the bubbling potion. “I counted seven but the first two were the only ones that had any real effect. Was that His doing? The energy coincided so well, it could have only come from the one that started the whole process.”
“Yes. He would have given more but the magic in the castle has weakened him.”
“The thing is…” Poppy looked up, smiling gratefully as a pot of soluth and two sticks of thes-cord were placed before her. “Perfect, thank you. Would you mind applying that to his skull while I melt this thes-cord down for the first treatment? The soluth should help get his energies flowing in that area and make the next steps more effective.”
“Poppykins, I’m not that easily distracted.” Lesley teased even though his eyes were narrowed at the witch. “Spit it out already.”
Poppy huffed, but tore her eyes from what she was doing long enough to frown disapprovingly at her old friend. “Your curiosity is not important right now.”
“Poppyyyyyy!!!”
“Oh, honestly! I haven’t missed that whine of yours, that’s for sure. Make yourself useful, and place this hot cloth over Mr. Forrestal’s forehead and then I’ll tell you.” Eye’s locked in a silent match, Lesley broke away gracefully, and carefully arranged the white cloth over Clive’s head before skipping back with a triumphant smile.
“Now, it’s difficult to say, given I have no real experience in this, but I have a good idea what’s happened.” She held her hand up before Lesley could urge her to get to the point. “He’s been bonded to another, to Him, and that, combined with the sudden change in his magic, has completely shocked his system. My intent is to temporarily amplify that bond and use it to help pull Mr. Forrestal back to us.” She smiled wryly at Lesley’s surprised look. “What, were you expecting a crash course in ancient healing techniques and treatments for magical sentient beings? Silly man. Although, it did help me to diagnose it and the treatment I’m using is from my studies. But that is none of your concern, Lezzy-lizard. Now, if you insist on being a pest and swaying on your feet like that, I’m going to have to shoo you from the work area.”
“You treat me so well.” Lesley smiled brightly, planting a kiss on Poppy’s cheek. Over three hundred years old and the gutsy bird still treated him like an injured student fresh from the Quidditch field. “I’ll just be in the corner if you need me. Haven’t had myself a roll in the hay in quite the while.”
“Like I’d believe that.” Poppy snorted at the tired man, giving all her attention to the task at hand. She’d have to set up some containment spells before she could start the ritual, but she had a good feeling that it wouldn’t take too long. Either it was the excitement of finally putting this knowledge to good use, or the pretty blue bottle waiting for her back in her office, but she was feeling as sprightly as she did twenty years ago.

*******

“Harry… come on now, love. Wakie, wakie… oh!” Lesley froze, caught in the glowing eyes peering out from the darkness. It was instinctual really, the shiver of fear that slinked down his spine as he fought to regain whatever train of thought he had while pinned under the predatory gaze. He was glad now that he had offered to wake the boy. The others would have done something to get themselves killed.
“I didn’t mean to startle you, Harry. Do you recognize me?” Lesley kept his voice soothing and low, making sure he didn’t make any sudden movements while the boy regained his senses.
Blinking his nightmare away, Harry took a slow look around the stables, letting the late afternoon light take the chill he had felt only a moment ago. There was no jewel here, no cold, sparkling prison that took away his ability to move. Finding Lesley, pale with lips a little too tight, he offered a weak smile. “Everything all right, cousin?”
“Oh—uh… yes. Everything is quite well.” His anxiety was easy to let go of now that Harry had stopped looking like he was going to attack. Lesley straightened up, holding a hand out for Harry to grab. “I didn’t think it was possible but Clive’s out of his coma and sleeping as he should. Poppy is eager to give you a check up and I figured it should best be done now. She couldn’t find a replacement for more than a few hours, so she’s needed back at Hogwarts.”
Eyes downcast, Harry peeked beneath his lashes to the right where Poppy was watching. “Does… does she know who I am?”
“Only that the person sleeping over here is the Heir. It’s difficult to give out such information as it is.” Lesley scrunched his nose thoughtfully. “Don’t worry about it, love. She loves this kind of stuff. She’s probably one of the leading minds in the field, which is rather amazing given the field of study.”
Harry nodded, wondering if in some roundabout way Dumbledore hadn’t hired the mediwitch because he had known that she would be needed just for this reason. Coincidences aside, he could use a helping hand he could trust. “You can rest if you want, Lesley. I don’t know how long this will take.” He raised his eyes, tilting a brow as the woman wrung her hands anxiously. “Madame Pomfrey, if you’re ready we can begin.”
“If you would… I’ve made an area for you, Sire. It’s already been sterilized.” Stumbling over her words, Poppy indicated the new bed placed next to Clive’s sleeping form. Harry walked carefully to the bed, sitting himself among the sheets and hoping the world would stop spinning soon. Poppy bustled about, throwing up status spells with a shaky hand. “If you don’t mind, Sire. Anything you could tell me about your problem would help me diagnose faster.”
Harry took a moment to figure out what was wrong with him and put it into words. There was more than he had first thought. “Um, I’m suffering from magical contamination and prolonged exposure to negative energy. My exritus was interrupted, leaving my growth delayed and me not completely formed. I will eventually catch up, but it will take a few weeks at the least. I’m finding it difficult to control my new powers and my energy is very erratic, but since I gave most of it to Clive, I’m feeling practically muggle. Err… I’m also experiencing signs of withdrawal now that I’ve been torn from the one who helped ease me during my exritus.” Harry shrugged lightly, not comfortable with the fact that the Mediwitch had yet to even try and meet his eyes. “Oh, and I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I was feeling hungry but I’ve gotten used to it so I think my body is just about ready to shut down… Madame Pomfrey, it is quite all right to scold me for not taking care of myself properly.”
Startled, Poppy’s hand froze mid motion. In her mind she had been very vocal about the foolishness of not eating at a time like this, but she’d had no intention of ever speaking it aloud. Finishing the spell, she turned to her bag and began rustling through it. “I really don’t think that would be professional, Sire. If you would stretch your arms so I can get some measurements done? I’m afraid it won’t help much without your primary’s records so we can compare your growth and see where things should be…”
Falling silent, Harry let her ramble away. She didn’t recognize him, not surprising when she refused to look at him, but still rather disappointing.
“Well, I think your fatigue can be explained away with the energy transfers and your newborn status.” Turning back, Poppy started laying out items on the table, handing a long bottle to Harry while her eyes stayed on her bag. “Drink this for now; it will help restore some of your energy. We’ll have to get some food in you but the tests work better on an empty stomach anyways.”
“It’s not empty.”
Jumping from the low voice, Poppy focused on what her hands were doing. “Oh?”
Harry smiled viciously, straightening from his slumped position and leaning back on his arms. “Oh yes. You’ll likely find a large amount of blood… human of course. If you ask nicely I may even tell you whose it is. Or would you rather guess? Which Council member did I drain? Or maybe it wasn’t even a councilor. Maybe some poor, innocent, wizard or witch happened by and I just attacked. Does that sound about right, Madame Pomfrey?” He watched as the woman stiffened even more, a cold laugh clutching his insides. What would it take…? Maybe Hogwarts was a better angle.
“You must be used to dealing with monster, beyond the foolish children you care for on your side job. Have you run into any of the Heralds yet? Part of there tradition is to taste each other’s blood in greeting. Albus mustn’t have been happy with that, knowing you deal with such dangerous beasts. I wouldn’t suggest mixing your jobs together. That lot with all those sweet children could lead to quite a bloodbath.”
The vial of sleeping draught fell from Poppy’s fingers and clinked ominously on the stone floor. She stared at the little glass tube blankly, as if not sure just when it had fallen.
“I bet all of their parents didn’t take the news well. …They do know, don’t they? Ha, of course they must know. The woman in charge of seeing to every bruise and break of their little baby fraternizes with illegal beings. It would be a disservice not to tell them.”
“That’s enough.” Taking a deep breath, Poppy summoned the vial to her hand and placed it on the table with the rest of her ingredients. “I did not want to sedate you because of your weakened state, but if you insist on threatening me… I, uh, you will leave me no choice.”
Harry couldn’t help but smile a little at the gutsy witch. “Was I threatening you, Madame? If anything, it seems you are threatening me. Here I am trying to make conversation and you’re going on about sedating me. What has happened to your bedside manner? I can’t imagine all those students must like you when you’re snapping away like that.”
“For your information, I do not normally snap. You should drink that potion.”
“I’d say you just did, Madame. What is it about me that sets you on edge? The fact that I’m the reincarnation of a god, or because I’m allowed to kill you and not be punished in any which way or form? Ah, it’s the last on, isn’t it.” Harry sent a roguish smile her way that was completely wasted since she still refused to look at him. He was pissed, plain and simple, from his inability and just plain stupidity with the whole Clive thing and the person who normally would have had the guts to tell him off was cringing from him like a kicked dog.
“If you’re not going to drink it, then I suggest you lie back, Sire.” Her ire up, Poppy slammed the tray in her hands down, the noise causing Clive to stir in his sleep.
“Touchy…” Harry sighed, rubbing his scar. The game had lost its fun… all right; it had never really been that fun to begin with. Bloody people and their stupid fears, and he could have sworn he had scented it from Lesley when he had woken up but he really didn’t want to think about that. His brother’s children had to deal with Solus Ta and Cosmo Re and they were known for their erratic behaviour. To have Lesley afraid of him was equivalent to a kick in the head. “I’m having problems with my scar again so if you’d give me the normal stuff, I’d be most obliged. Until my headache is gone I’m afraid I’ll be throwing up anything you give me.”
“And what would that ‘normal’ stuff be, Sire? I am not a mind reader.” Poppy grunted, eyeing her bag warily and wondering if she had what he would need and if she’d actually care if she didn’t.
“Like I know? You’re the one that always makes it!” Throwing his hands up, Harry plopped backwards onto the bed, pulling his knees up and curling into a ball. Gods, he just wanted to sleep. Curl up with Malfoy and sleep forever. “Whatever you usually use to keep Voldemort from driving me insane would be nice. If you don’t want to, I can just go. All this stuff will eventually sort itself out. My body’s very resilient.”
Poppy sighed, smoothing a stray lock of her hair to her head. If the man didn’t sound so dejected she may have left him there to suffer and escape back to her mundane world of foolhardy children. “Far be it for me to tell the Heir he’s talking nonsense. Where’s this scar of yours? What does it have to do with You-Know-Who?”
“If you’d bother to look at me you wouldn’t have to ask, now would you?” Harry hissed, curling up tighter and burrowing his head into the pillow.
Smarting at the sharp tone, Poppy snapped again, feeling quite irritated at this point. “Don’t be ridiculous. Such a thing is blasphemy and a sure sign of disrespect. As you put it, I am well versed with dealing with dangerous beings, Sire.”
“So help me—look me in the eye this bloody second or I’m taking that stupid bottle of wine that Lesley gave you and pouring it down the nearest drain!” Harry shouted, pounding his pillow and sitting up to glare at the woman. “I was your student before all this shit and you damn well should know it, Madame Pomfrey—Forget it! I’m out of here. I am not well enough to deal with this shit right now.”
He jumped to his feet, swaying only a moment and inwardly fuming at the shocked eyes that were now quite intent on his. “This sucks, you know that? The majority of the people here try to treat me like some stupid kid and everyone else treats me like some bloody beast. I was hoping you’d be a little less biased but obviously I was wrong. Clive is now officially your responsibility. When he is stable enough he will be sent to the ward in Hogwarts so he can bond with Blaise to help both of their recoveries. You are no longer needed here. Go take care of all those weak students; I’m sure you’re happy to be free of me.” Whirling, Harry grabbed his pounding head and stalked towards the door.
Blinking after the boy, Poppy finally found her voice. “Mister Potter!”
“Oh, now you figure it out.” Harry muttered under his breath, reaching for the door.
“Harry James Potter, you will come back here and sit down, or so help me I will bind you!” Poppy ordered, hands on her hips and sounding exactly as she had when berating Gilderoy Lockhart for being a fool.
“Ha! Like a binding spell would work on me anymore!” Harry snarled, turning to glare back at the woman. “Unless you’re willing to manhandle me, I’m not doing a bloody thing you say!”
Poppy gave him her sharpest look and slowly pushed her sleeves up. “Heir or not, you can barely stand on your own, young man. I’ve never been one queasy on doing things the hard way. Sit your butt down!”
Biting his lip and pouting, Harry tore his gaze away, settling on his shuffling feet. “No more of this bloody ‘Sire’ business, understand?”
“I will call you whatever I want to, mister. Now get over here and stop using that offensive language around me. It is unbecoming of a man of your stature and plain crude for a boy of your disposition.” Poppy pointed to the bed and waited until Harry shuffled over and sat. “That’s better. Now how long has your scar been bothering you?”
Harry told her, everything really from when he had begun his exritus to the current time. She was shrewd, and he was sure she suspected what had happened to him at the Dursleys, but he kept silent on the subject no matter how much she tried to trick him into blurting it out. Smiling weakly, Harry let himself be poked and prodded until he felt possibly normal. He fell asleep slumped over while waiting for the meal Poppy had promised him. It was stupid and childish but being able to shout had gotten some of his anxiety out of him and he felt closer to Madame Pomfrey then he had in a while.
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Awakening To the Dream