Ch 24: Second Council
Looking around at the uncomprehending faces, Dumbledore continued. "As you all know, Harry was working very hard taking extra classes and doing extra training. But until today, I had no idea just how much he was trying to do. I should have foreseen it, I should have guessed, I should have known Harry would try something like this…" Dumbledore paused, then continued. "Minerva, how much time were you spending with Harry on extra lessons?"
"Well, he would come by about twice a week and we would work for about three hours. Plus I gave him hefty amounts of reading, so I would guess maybe altogether he was spending fifteen hours a week on my training in addition to his Quidditch, DA club meetings, and regular classes. I figured fifteen hours on top of probably fifty hours for the rest of that wasn't too extreme." She looked at the amazed faces around her.
"Moody, Lupin? About how many hours did you spend with him in extra DADA training?"
"What do you mean, extra DADA training? I thought I was the only one giving him extra training," exclaimed McGonagall.
"I believe that is what Harry wanted us to believe," responded Dumbledore quietly.
"Well, Lupin and I were working with him on dueling and countercurses every afternoon for about two hours," explained Moody.
"And I worked an additional three hours twice a week with him," added Lupin.
"So did I," chimed in Moody. "And tons of reading on top of that."
"I worked with him three times a week on disguise and…" Tonks looked around the room nervously, "developing his Metamorphmagus skills. It seems he has that talent as well. Though he didn't want anyone to know about it."
"Ahh. Well that explains how he could hide his worsening condition from us. But he must be very powerful to maintain such a powerful illusion for so long," mused Dumbledore.
"He is the most powerful Metamorphmagus I've ever seen," replied Tonks.
"We visited three times a week for three or four hours at a time discussing strategy and tactics from various historic wars," whispered Snape. "I know he did an enormous amount of reading for Professor Binn's History of Magic class as well additional reading for our discussions."
Professor Winkle added, "Harry did a lot of extra reading for my class, but I believe he mostly practiced on his own. There wasn't that much we could really do together, beyond the experiments in class."
"What does Muggle science have to do with any of this?" asked Tonks.
"It was Harry's understanding of Muggle science that saved the school today." Dumbledore explained in a quiet voice. "There are two additional things I should probably inform you of today. Harry has developed not only a wide variety of talents, but is a mage of considerable power, as all of you have probably guessed. Well, one of the talents he has discovered and developed is that he can work magic through the basic elements. He can't control them entirely, nobody can do that. However he can get them to behave in certain ways, according to natural principles that he has been studying in his Muggle science class. It is an exhausting task however."
There was a deep silence in the room as the professors looked at Harry in awe.
"What's the second thing you needed to tell us?" asked McGonagall.
"Hmm. Yes. Have any of you noticed that students who are normally on time have been late? Or extremely early for class? Or perhaps you have been very late or early for a class or meeting?"
Looking around at the nods, Dumbledore continued. "I have noticed this myself, but I brushed it off as mere coincidence. Old age I thought. Besides, it is very common. But upon seeing Harry's current condition and after discussing it with you, I have come to a different conclusion. Let me explain.
Knowing now that Harry was spending so much additional time working with each of you, have you figured out yet how he managed to do it all? After all, it is not humanly possible for him to be physically meeting with all of you at the same time, nor to keep up with the monstrous load of reading we have all been assigning him. You see, I, too, have been meeting with Harry three or four times a week helping him develop skills casting spells without his wand and teaching him various mental exercises to help him study better and improve at Occlumency. Obviously, he spent many additional hours studying the books I gave him and practicing the techniques and spells we worked on. As he did for all of you. But not even the techniques I taught him could have allowed him to read all the material in the amount of time he would have had-let alone practice it and master it to the level we have seen him perform.
No, there must be some other explanation. It first occurred to me when I saw him on the battlefield, much as you see him now. I spoke with Dobby earlier. He is a house elf who is very good friends with Harry's and works in the kitchens. Dobby told me that Harry has had quite the appetite this year. Last week alone, Harry was going to the kitchen every hour during the day, sometimes every half hour to grab a small meal. With what you have all told me, I have no doubt that Harry was traveling back in time again and again to make enough time to do all of the work for your extra training. And I have no idea how many extra hours he has been putting in on his own, practicing and developing his various talents, and reading the books from our library as well as the comprehensive archives in the Ministry of Magic. From a friend of mine, I have heard that a number of private collections have been visited as well.
But he has overextended himself. Time travel is difficult enough to do once. But when one constantly loops back and forth, all sorts of problems can develop. I believe that is what is happening to Harry right now. I believe all the mental and physical stress of looping in time, together with the intensity of his lessons and training, and added to the enormous amount of energy he used today in saving the school is causing his current condition. I am not sure his body knows which time he belongs in."
"But how is that possible, Albus? Surely the boy cannot cast a time travel spell? And even if he could, he couldn't be powerful enough to cast it as often as you suggest could he?" questioned Moody.
"No, I do not believe he can. But he does not need to. He has been using my Time Turner." There were gasps around the room.
"You're the one who gave it to him? Are you MAD?" screamed Hermione as she sat up in her bed. She had been awake for most of the conversation, but had laid quietly in bed, seething with anger. "How could they have done this to him? How could they not notice? Didn't they care about him?" A quiet, logical voice inside her head gently reminded her that she hadn't noticed anything wrong, that she hadn't figured out everything Harry had been up to. That realization made her even angrier. "What on earth were you thinking, giving Harry a Time Turner?"
"I can understand your concern, Miss Granger. Technically, I did not give Harry the…" began Dumbledore.
"Don't play word games with me or hide your involvement with semantics, Professor," snapped Hermione as she rose from her bed to stand in front of Dumbledore.
"Now Miss Granger, if you'll just calm down," soothed McGonagall.
"Don't patronize me! I'm not a child! And it's your fault that Harry is nearly dead-all of yours! If it hadn't been for your silly secrets, your secret training, he never would have pushed himself like this. If anything happens to Harry…if he…if he…" Hermione's eyes filled with tears as she glared at Dumbledore, "if he doesn't get better, I'll put you under the Panzgigi curse. All of you! Now I'm going to the library to bring back a few books to read. Somebody has to find a way to help Harry. And somebody tell Madame Pince to stay out of my way and keep her Howler books off the shelves. I don't have time to deal with them and I will be taking whatever I need to read." Hermione turned and stalked angrily from the room, wincing slightly as she jarred her left arm hanging in its sling.
McGonagall turned to follow, but Dumbledore quietly shook his head. "Let her go Minerva, she needs some time alone. She blames herself as much as any of us for not protecting Harry better. She has her own secrets she is hiding and I suspect she is feeling partly responsible for Harry's condition. Give her some time and let her read, though I'm afraid she won't find any answers in her books this time. But do please let Madame Pince know that Miss Granger has my permission to read and withdraw any book she wishes. And kindly, but quietly, caution her to stay out of Miss Granger's way. We don't want our school librarian turned into anything unpleasant."
"What was that nonsense about the Panzgigi curse, Professor? What sort of rubbish was she making up?" asked Snape.
"Oh, I am afraid the Panzgigi curse is a real curse. Nearly seven hundred years ago, Panzgigi was a nasty, but powerful wizard with a number of enemies. One of his hobbies was to capture his enemies and cast a special transformation spell he developed on them." Seeing that everyone was listening closely, he continued. "The transformation worked randomly once cast, changing the victim into a new creature every day. One day the victim might be a scorpion, the next day a slug, or perhaps a spider. But always something most people would find disagreeable. Apparently Panzgigi liked to keep his enemies in several aquariums he had specially built and would occasionally put several of his transformed enemies in one to fight and kill one another. Needless to say Panzgigi was very disturbed."
"She dared threaten us with a curse like that," said a slightly more pale Snape. "How did she learn of something like that? I have never even heard of it."
"Few wizards have. It is mentioned in an ancient volume of Dark curses kept in the Prohibited section at the Ministry archives. I would love to know how Mister Potter and Miss Granger got in there, as would several Ministry librarians, I am sure," answered Dumbledore.
"But she wouldn't actually be capable of casting something like that, would she? She's only in sixth year," asked Tonks.
"You don't know her as well as we here at Hogwarts do. If any sixth year student would be capable of casting a spell like that, it would be Hermione Granger...or Harry Potter.""
"But she wouldn't would she…" followed up Tonks.
"Given a chance to calm down and under normal circumstances, I would say no. However, given the proper motivation and her deep…uhh…concern for Harry, I would have to say that she would be quite capable of something like this. But only if it might help Harry." Dumbledore looked around at the other instructors. "I have heard that Rita Skeeter has a very interesting story she could share about Hermione's ability and determination to protect Harry," he added wryly.
Noting the serious looks being passed around, Dumbledore continued in a somber voice. "I will of course speak with Madame Pomfrey to see if there is anything else we can do for Harry. However, I am afraid there is not much we can do except wait and hope. Obviously, none of what we have discussed here leaves this room. Right now, we have a number of other students and their families we need to attend to-go and help as best you can. Minerva, if I could have a quick word with you?" They whispered softly at the door as the other teachers left and then they left the room as well.
Later that evening, Dumbledore stopped by the infirmary to check in on Hermione and Harry. He had, of course, heard the rumors circulating around the school about floating stacks of books, but even he was unprepared for the piles of books around Harry and Hermione that threatened to fall over and crush them both at any minute. "She must have brought down half the library!" he thought to himself with a wry chuckle.
"Miss Granger, I have come to offer my apologies once again. I am terribly sorry about what has happened to Harry. I should have known he would try and push his limits."
Looking sadly at Dumbledore, Hermione replied, "I should have recognized what he was doing, too. I helped push him just as hard as any of you did. I feel terrible. I've got to find a way to help him. And I'm sorry about threatening you with the Panzgigi curse."
"I am sure you will find a way to help Hermione, but I do not believe the answers you are looking for will be found in a book. Sometimes there are other ways, more powerful ways than magic, to help those we care about," suggested Dumbledore. "I will be checking in on you and Harry again tomorrow." Then Dumbledore left.
As she turned back to her pile of books, Hermione wondered, "What did he mean, other ways more powerful than magic? What could be more powerful than magic? Surely not Muggle science? Muggle medicine? I doubt it! What then? What?"
*-*-*
Dumbledore had suspended classes for two weeks, allowing the students to return home and visit their families if they wished. Nobody had been able to figure out how so many enemies had been able to get so close to Hogwarts without setting off any of the defensive wards or alarms protecting Hogwarts. Most of the faculty worked with Dumbledore and Aurors from the Ministry in restoring the protective and defensive wards around Hogwarts and establishing new defenses.
Newspapers covering the Battle at Hogwarts, for that is what they were calling it, sold out in minutes and ran through multiple editions. Everybody wanted to read about the powerful Dumbledore invoking the ancient protections of the Hogwarts school and the continued heroics of The Boy Who Lived. According to the papers, Harry Potter had first spotted the approaching army and had flown off to defeat the dragon by himself. Once he had defeated the dragon singlehandedly with a powerful stunning spell, he had created an army of Patronus charms that held off the Dementors until Dumbledore was able to trigger the protective fire spell. While Harry had concentrated on defeating the Dementors, twenty Death Eaters fired their spells in unison to strike Harry Potter. According to the most popular account, Harry had actually reflected all of the spells at the casters, remaining untouched. However, the effort he had expended at the battle had so tired him out, he was still recovering. That, and his natural shyness were used as explanations for why nobody had seen him or spoken with him since the battle.
There was little mention of the fifteen funerals that were held for the students who had perished at the Battle of Hogwarts. At least one member of every house had perished in the battle. All of the other students were recovering under the careful eye of Madam Pomfrey and the staff at St. Mungo's who had come to help. All of the students were well on the road to recovery except for Harry. A week had passed, and still there had been no significant change in Harry's condition.
*-*-*
Late one afternoon, Hermione shifted in her chair and adjusted the thick tome she was reading. Nearly a week of solid reading and she had found nothing-not one thing that might prove useful in helping Harry recover. For the thousandth time, she was tempted to use the Time Turner to give herself additional time to read and search. Then she would look again at Harry and see for herself the consequences that could occur. With a disgusted sigh, she tossed the book aside on a large pile of discarded tomes. Standing, she stretched with both arms. Her shoulder felt much better, the bones mended and the shoulder back in its socket where it belonged. Hearing the door open, her head snapped up.
It was Ron and some girl was with him-Katie Bell? "Oh Ron! I haven't been to see you at all! How could I have been so thoughtless?! I've been here so worried about Harry, and Ron nearly died, too! What kind of friend am I?"
She ran forward. "Ron, I am so sorry I haven't been by to see you! You must think I'm a terrible friend. I…" she couldn't actually bring herself to say that she had completely forgotten about him in her concern over Harry and ended lamely, "I've just been very busy." She couldn't help staring for a moment at the long scar that ran across his left cheek.
Looking at the stacks of books, Ron chuckled. "I can see that. Starting your own library in here Hermione? Don't worry, I've had plenty of company while I've been getting better." He looked quickly at Katie and then back at Hermione.
Running his finger along his scar, Ron added, "Pomfrey says the scar probably won't completely fade away. How cool is that? How many friends do you have with a dragon claw scar?"
"Actually I hope none of my friends ever get a scar," she replied.
"So how is he doing?" He headed over to Harry's side. "I can't visit long. If Pomfrey finds out I've slipped away, she'll put me in a bed for another week."
"He looks a little better now, but there's been hardly any change at all in a week," answered Hermione sadly. "I haven't been able to find anything at all to help him."
Both Ron and Katie gasped when they got close enough to Harry to realize they could see through him.
"What happened to him?" asked Katie. "What kind of spell would do that?"
Looking at Ron, Hermione replied, "They don't know for sure."
Ron knelt down by his friend's side and tried to take his hand in his. "You hang in there mate. You come back to us, you hear. Hermione's taking good care of you, you'll be OK." Ron turned as Katie leaned over and whispered in his ear.
Hermione heard her perfectly. "Come on Ron, you need to get back to bed. Pomfrey will have a fit if she catches you sneaking out. And she won't let me visit anymore." Neither one of them had noticed Harry stir slightly when Hermione's name was mentioned. Only Hermione saw it.
"Well, I guess I better head back. Take care of him for me, OK, Hermione? I'll be back as soon as I can to visit. And don't be a stranger, OK?" said Ron as he looked at Hermione, then at Harry, then turned back to the door. Hermione saw him reach for Katie's hand as they walked to the door and how Katie reached back for his hand to grab it tightly.
"What kind of idiot was she? Why hadn't she thought of this before? Not every answer is in a book, silly gir,"~ she chided herself. "Of course. Maybe this was like Harry's nightmares. Magic hadn't helped then either. It was only when she had put the washcloths on his forehead. But then again, maybe it wasn't just the washcloths either. Maybe it was something else." Moving to the side of Harry's bed, she tried to grab Harry's hand and hold it tight. "Listen to me Harry. It's Hermione." She saw him stir again. "You've got to come back to us. We need you. I need you." "I don't know what I'd do without you, Harry. You've got to come back to me. I can't imagine living my life without you. Please come back to me." She sat for a moment, shocked by the thoughts that had just crossed her mind. Then she realized they were true. As the tears streamed down her face, she tried to hold his hand again and kept thinking, "Come back to me Harry. I need you. I love you. Come back, Harry. Please come back to me. I love you."
*-*-*
He felt as if he had been wandering among these memories for an eternity. He kept reliving the seemingly endless days of training and studying. It was all just a huge blur. He couldn't seem to decide where he fit in at all. He knew that he was the one doing the studying and practicing the magic spells, but he felt like he was watching himself go through the motions as well. As if part of him were actually living, and part was just watching him live. He didn't know how to make any sense of it. So he kept watching.
Then he heard a name-two names actually. They seemed to mean something to him, but he couldn't be sure. Hermione and Harry. He thought about them for a minute. They seemed to be important somehow, for some reason. There was a voice, too. It seemed familiar somehow. He wasn't sure why, but he felt drawn to it. Through the shadowy world of images, he followed the voice, searching for the source. Occasionally he lost it, but he simply focused harder on finding it again. Retracing his steps, he always found it again. For some reason he didn't quite understand, he felt driven to find the voice. And so he searched. And searched.
*-*-*
Lifting her head slightly, she tried to remember where she was. All she could see was white. As she lifted her head higher, she realized she had fallen asleep with her head on Harry's chest. Jerking wide awake she stopped and stared. Harry no longer looked deathly white. He was still pale, and rather thin, but she could no longer see right through him. His body was solid again!
"Harry! Harry! Wake up!" she cried, looking expectantly at his face. He stirred, and she thought she detected the trace of a smile, but his eyes remained closed. She grabbed his hand and shouted at him again. "Wake up, Harry! It's me, Hermione!" Though he moved slightly, he still remained asleep.
"It's OK. It's OK. He just needs a little more time. He just needs a little more rest," she kept telling herself. After all, physically, he looked much better. She felt sure the mental healing would soon follow. She sat holding his hand and whispering to him for another hour, then decided she should go get some breakfast.
As she closed the door behind her, she didn't realize this was the first time in a week she had actually stepped outside of the infirmary. It didn't strike her as odd that she saw few students headed to class in the hallways. When she arrived at the Great Hall, she saw that there were beds lining the wall. Confused, she saw Ron sitting in bed with Katie sitting in a chair by his side. As she approached, she saw Katie jump back and drop Ron's hand.
Ron grinned easily. "Hey, Hermione. How are you doing? When was the last time you brushed your hair?"
Katie reached out and slapped him on the shoulder.
"Oww!" he complained. "That's the one the dragon slashed!"
"Ohhh, I'm sooo sorry," apologized Katie. "But I thought it was your left one?"
"Oh yeah, you're right. It was the left one," smiled Ron. Katie punched his right shoulder again, harder this time.
"Ummm. What is everyone doing in here? Where would I get some breakfast?"
Chuckling, Ron replied. "You have been out of the loop, haven't you? They made this into the temporary infirmary. There were too many to fit in the regular one. Besides, everyone figured Harry was pretty out of it, since nobody's seen him in a week and has been in the infirmary by himself. Well, except for…" He smiled wickedly as if to add something, but stopped at a warning look from Katie. Hermione didn't notice. "Haven't you eaten in a week?"
"Ummm. I think somebody must have been leaving food around the infirmary for me to eat. I don't really remember," admitted Hermione. "Where is Dumbledore? I need to talk to him. Harry's looking much better. No, he's not awake yet, but he's looking a lot better. Thanks to you two," and she smiled widely at both Ron and Katie.
Katie reddened and Ron muttered, "Uhh. Sure, glad to help. Though I'm not sure how."
"I think I'll just go look for him myself," Hermione stood up to leave and then turned to Katie. "You can hold his hand if you want to, Katie. I'm not going to hex you." Smiling again, she turned again and left Ron sputtering and Katie laughing.
By the time Hermione had tracked down Dumbledore, he already knew. Apparently the whole school was buzzing about how Harry was slowly improving, though nobody knew exactly what was wrong. Before returning to the infirmary, she stopped by the kitchen where she was nearly smothered by Dobby in a huge hug. After explaining that yes, Harry was doing much better, Hermione was fed until she nearly exploded. She finally returned to the infirmary and sat with Harry for awhile, gently holding his hand and mindspeaking with him.
Weariness finally overcame her, and she fell asleep in the chair again. She did not waken as the door opened slowly and three figures stealthily entered. Nor did she wake up when one of the cloaked figures pulled out a wand and whispered, "Serpentsortia." Only when the fangs sank into her neck did Hermione awake with a frightful scream. She surged to her feet, ripped the black snake from her neck, and wheeled to face her attackers. As she whipped out her wand, she collapsed to her knees. As the darkness surrounded her, she fell to the floor and saw nothing more.
When Madame Pomfrey burst from her quarters at Hermione's scream, she froze when she saw the three wands aimed at her. "What do you think you're…" she managed before she was blasted backwards by three stunning spells to crumple on the floor by the wall.
"Now your turn, Potter," threatened a high, thin voice full of hatred and malice as the wand turned towards the unconscious wizard.
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