Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the Harry Potter universe. I just make them do silly things. I don't own the lyrics, either, and I will give due credit to the composers.
A/N: In this one, even stranger things begin happening. POVs skip around a bit, giving you a glance deeper into what's really going on. Naturally, as the story progresses things will get clearer. And no, no H/Hr in this chappie either, but believe me, we're getting closer! It starts in Tonks' POV while she's guarding Harry's hospital room. The repercussions of what Ginny did emerges in full force as the 'illness' starts affecting Hermione as well as herself, and finally, Harry has to swallow his pride and ask for help.
Chapter 9: What's Happening To Me?
-----~-----
Drowning deep in my sea of loathing,
Broken, your servant I kneel.
It seems what's left of my human side
is slowly changing in me.
Looking at my own reflection
when suddenly it changes,
violently, it changes (oh no.)
There is no turning back now,
You've woken up the demon in me.
-----~-----
Nymphadora Tonks arrived at St. Mungo's to cover her midnight shift guarding Harry. She almost asked for a replacement guard for the night, her auror duty ran much longer than usual, so she ended up only getting a few hours of sleep before her guard shift came up. She really didn't feel too tired, so she decided to take her turn anyway. She didn't mind, though. She actually enjoyed being around Harry. She had heard all the rumors and read all of the articles about him, but she knew it was mostly rubbish. She's been around him long enough to know the 'real' Harry and she felt like he was like a kid brother to her.
She relieved Hestia Jones, covered herself in her ministry-issue invisibility cloak and took her place outside of Harry's room. After about two hours, she felt her eyelids drooping and started to regret not asking for a replacement. She set up intrusion alarm wards on each end of the corridor outside his room. She stepped through the door and quietly cast a strong locking charm and alarm ward on the door, then a motion detection ward on Harry, who was sleeping peacefully in his bed.
She eyed the chair in the far corner of the dimly illuminated room. As she passed Harry's bed, her hip caught the edge of the footboard and jostled the sleeping boy. She held her breath and silently cursed to herself while keeping an eye on him. She crept along the floor, settled herself in the chair, and let out her breath. Just when she thought she was home free, her wand started vibrating in her hand, activated by the motion detection ward she had placed on Harry. Again, she silently cursed herself.
She watched as Harry unsteadily rose from his bed and opened the nearby locker. She heard him mutter something under his breath as he pulled a box from the locker and returned to his bed. She couldn't help but to feel sorry for Harry, because at that point he was looking absolutely miserable. Even in the dim lighting, she could see how pale and gaunt he still was.
He was absently pulling random bits of parchment out of the box until he came across one sheet that seemed to upset him greatly. He appeared to read it over a few times, and then flipped a page and she saw him become whiter than he looked before. She saw a flurry of emotions flash on his face… anger… despair… anger… sadness… anger… frustration… anger…
Rage.
The lights began flickering and a bottle that was on his nightstand shattered, sending jagged glass throughout the room. A whirlwind of magic suddenly erupted around Harry, causing her to hold the cloak that concealed her tightly around her body. She had never witnessed such a display of raw magical power before, and it scared her.
Harry started laughing, a cold, biting laugh that sent a chill up her spine. She could see the blood from the small cuts on his face mix with his tears as they flew off from his cheeks and into the swirling wind. Harry let out a terrible scream, which she was sure could be heard throughout the entire ward if the silencing charms weren't in place. He took a few more gasping breaths before continuing to laugh. Harry suddenly slammed his fist into the nightstand, nearly causing her to jump from the seat. He sat on the edge of the bed sobbing while the debris that was flying around the room dropped to the floor as the magical vortex disappeared.
Tonks tried desperately to quiet her ragged breathing. She was very scared. Even after the vortex collapsed, she could still feel various parts of her body twitching, as if there were small electrical currents running along the surface of her skin.
Again, Harry unsteadily rose from the bed, shedding his clothes as he walked back to the locker. As the now naked Harry bent over and rummaged through his trunk, Tonks, although still terrified, let out an involuntary, nervous giggle that she quickly stifled. She watched as he dressed himself, withdrew a few items from his trunk and stepped towards the door.
Her eyes widened as she recognized his invisibility cloak. As he was about to cover himself, she quickly cast a tracking charm on one of his trainers with the tracking code Sirius just a moment before Harry disappeared from sight. She didn't want to reveal herself, not knowing how Harry would react to her in his agitated state. With a flick of her wand, she dispelled the locking charm she had placed on the door. When she saw the door open and close, she quietly murmured, "Sequor Sirius" while holding her wand flat in the palm of her hand. The wand pointed out of the doorway to the right indicating the direction Harry was going. After a few seconds, she exited the room and followed to where her wand led.
After a while, she found herself in the children's ward. At first, she thought the tracking spell wasn't working properly until she saw a door ahead of her click shut. She flattened herself against the wall and saw the vague outline of a concealed figure move past her towards the exit of the children's ward. After a few more minutes of tracking Harry, she realized that he was heading for the hospital's main entrance.
'He's leaving the building? Oh, bugger!'
Tonks started running towards the main lobby. She just turned the corner into the reception area when she saw the exit door slide closed.
"Harry!" she yelled across the nearly empty lobby, causing the welcome-witch and a few waiting patients to jump in their seats. Tonks burst through the door into muggle London and quickly renewed the tracking spell, "Sequor Sirius!"
The wand rotated in her palm then pointed up towards the southern sky. She looked up and muttered, "Bugger!"
Tonks immediately sent off a messenger spell to the Order, notifying them that Harry had left St. Mungo's on his broomstick. As the silver spell leapt into the air and disappeared into the sky, she heard the multiple cracks of apparation and looked around at the score of black-cloaked, white-masked Death Eaters appearing in the street in front of St. Mungo's.
"Bugger!"
Almost in perfect unison, the Death Eaters extended their wands towards the defunct clothing and oddment shop and called out, "Reducto!" A virtual wall of spellfire surged towards the concealed hospital entrance. Tonks, who was still wearing her invisibility cloak, dove to the side and tucked herself along the bottom edge of the hospital wall. She heard the spells impact against the building just above her and the last thing she heard herself say before being buried in shattered brick, mortar and glass…
"Bugger!"
-----~-----
Ginny awoke the next morning with a grim smile fixed on her face. She pulled off her nightshirt so that she was only wearing her knickers. She walked over to her wardrobe to pick out a suitable outfit to wear on her visit to St. Mungo's. 'Something sexy…' she thought, and then remembered that she was going with her mother again. She let out a sigh, 'Not too sexy, though.'
She stopped halfway to the dresser and looked over to her desk. Her eyes fixed on the small, hidden compartment. 'Well, he is feeling better, and he should be released tomorrow. He'll probably come here when he's released. Maybe a little 'pick-me-up' is what he needs.'
She sat at her desk, opened the hidden compartment and withdrew the small vial of the opaque, pink liquid. She stared at the little bottle with her jaw set in fixed determination. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, held it for a few seconds and slowly blew it out of her mouth. Today's the day.
'The last dose,' she thought to herself.
She loosened the stopper, and then carefully placed a drop behind each ear, one on her throat and three drops in a triangular pattern over her heart. Instantly, the familiar aroma, that reminded her of gardenias and roses, filled the room. As she placed the now empty vial back onto her desk, she felt the familiar burning sensation that quickly faded into a pleasant warmth that spread throughout her body. 'Please let this work… I just can't lose him…'
Suddenly her eyes flew open as vivid images of Harry coursed through her mind. Instantly she felt the heat radiating in her lower abdomen. Her breath came in ragged gasps and her face flushed a bright red. Her eyes narrowed into slits as one of her hands involuntarily slid into her knickers while the other roughly grabbed onto one of her breasts, painfully kneading the nipple. She sat writhing and squirming on her chair until she let out a long, shuddering moan and slid from the chair onto the floor. She laid there gasping for breath while her body quivered and writhed. A minute later, she let out a horrified gasp and tried to get to her feet.
'What the bloody hell was that? That's never happened before! What's happening to me?'
A loud knocking came from the door followed by the concerned sounding voice of Molly Weasley, "Ginny? Are you okay? What's the matter?"
"N- nothing, mum… I- I'm just getting dressed," she replied breathily.
"Well, hurry up, we're leaving for St. Mungo's in a half hour, and breakfast's ready."
The moment her mother mentioned St. Mungo's, a vision of Harry's face forced its way to the front of her mind, causing an involuntary shudder throughout her body. Ginny took a long calming breath, which did absolutely nothing to alleviate the warm ache that was still present in her loins, or for the sudden roaring in her chest that apparently happens every time anything remotely related to Harry entered her mind. Ironically, most things she looked at reminded her somewhat of Harry.
It took Ginny much longer than usual to dress herself. With every article of clothing she touched, her mind flickered to the question of whether Harry would like seeing her in it, which, in turn, caused a new wave of physical desire to claw its way into her chest. Her hands were trembling so badly that she found it nearly impossible to fasten the laces on her trainers. She stood at her bedroom door, breathing deeply while attempting to stop her body from quivering. She opened the door and slowly made her way down the stairs. As she entered the kitchen, she heard the voice of Kingsley Shaklebolt through the floo connection in the fireplace. Her mother was crouched over the hearth, as Ron stood ashen-faced beside her.
"Mum?" asked Ginny, trying to make her voice as even as possible, "What's going on?"
As the floo connection terminated, Molly stood up from the hearth and steadied herself against the mantle. With a cracked and halting voice, she said, "There was an attack early this morning." She slowly turned around to face her daughter, "Death Eaters attacked St. Mungo's. They don't know much at this point but Harry is… Harry… he's missing… Nobody knows where he…" Molly couldn't finish the sentence as she buried her face into Ron's chest and burst into loud sobbing.
Ginny felt her mind freeze. She instantly became light headed as her mother's words reached her. The last thought that came to her before she collapsed onto the floor was 'He's dead…'
-----~-----
The bright, early-morning sun blazed through Hermione's bedroom window and fell across her back as she sat in front her vanity and sullenly stared at her reflection in the mirror. She picked up her brush and tried running it through her motley hair with very limited results. She tried pulling the brush away, but it became hopelessly tangled and she ended up ripping out more than a few hairs from her scalp before freeing it. She carelessly tossed the brush over her shoulder and gave the mirror the best smile she could while slowly batting her lashes a few times. The smile quickly died on her lips and she let out a long, depressed breath. She squinted slightly then leaned into the mirror while running a finger over a spot on her chin near the corner of her mouth.
'Brilliant,' she thought morosely, 'I've got 'bird nest' hair, a creepy, big-toothed smile and yet another pimple. I'm hopeless.'
She perused the sparse items of muggle beauty products that sat on top of the vanity and let out a sigh, 'lip gloss… eye liner… nothing to cover a pimple.'
Hermione never understood how Lavender, Pavarti and all of the other girls could spend so much time and waste so much effort primping and preening themselves. They were always so concerned how boys would view them. She could never be bothered with all that nonsense, not when there were books to read and essays to write. It always amazed her how the girls could name every shade of lipstick that they and all the other girls in school owned, but couldn't name the four basic ingredients to a sleeping potion.
Sitting there in front of the vanity, she found herself wishing she had paid more attention to the other girls over the years. The only time she ever got 'dolled up' was during the fourth year for the Yule Ball, and even then all the work on her was performed by Lavender, Ginny and Pavarti… if left on her own, she probably would have met Viktor looking like a Knockturn Alley streetwalker. Of course, she wasn't actually getting 'dolled up' for Viktor, she was hoping to make an impression on a certain other boy.
She opened the drawer in the vanity and found a rubber band, three bobby pins, a nail clipper, tweezers and an old, empty tube of lip balm. With a frustrated grunt, she slammed the drawer shut. She picked up the bottle of 'Sleekeasy's Hair Potion,' the same bottle that was left over from her fourth year. She shook it and found it was nearly empty, then tossed the bottle over her shoulder.
'Ugh… magic is the only thing that could work on this mop. Why am I bothering?' She thought as she grimaced at her reflection, 'All I need is a missing front tooth and a big wart on my nose and I'd look just like a 'real' witch from a children's muggle colouring book.'
A giggle escaped her lips. '…a 'real' witch…' She started laughing. She pushed away from the vanity and stood up, laughing even harder. "A 'real' witch! Imagine that?" She wiped a tear from her eye as she walked back to sit on her bed. She let out a yelp as her bare foot stepped on the hairbrush she had tossed away moments before and crashed to the floor. She was laughing hysterically… or at least she thought she was.
She was surprised to find tears spilling from her eyes as she lay on the carpet. She suddenly realized that she wasn't laughing anymore, she was actually crying. She angrily pounded her fist on the floor as sobs wracked her body, 'Why am I acting like this? What's happening to me?'
Alex Granger wore a serious frown as he stood in the doorway of his daughter's room and watched her crying on the floor. He slowly shook his head as he studied her and thought, 'When did she get so thin? Am I that out of touch with her?' He slowly walked over and knelt beside her.
"What's wrong, Pun'kin?" he softly said as he lifted her up from the floor into a kneeling position facing him. He never remembered seeing her quite so emotional.
She threw her arms around him and cried into his shirt, "I- I don't know! I just don't know!"
He held her close and softly rubbed her back, noticing that he could clearly feel each of her ribs through her flannel nightshirt. His heart ached as he felt her frail body shudder with every sob. He wiped a tear from his own eye as he thought to himself, 'Well, I'm going to find out, then.'
After a few minutes, her sobs diminished to a few sporadic sniffles and her eyelids started to droop. When he lifted Hermione from the floor, he was startled by how little his seventeen-year-old daughter weighed. He gently placed her on the bed and after making sure she was comfortable, left her room to head for his study. He had a long letter to write to the headmistress of her school. He needed answers, and he was going to get them.
Just as he opened the door to his study, he heard the doorbell chime. He walked through the living room, into the entrance hall and peered through the window beside the front door. There on the doorstep was an odd-looking old man wearing a rumpled, ill-fitting pinstriped suit and an old, black felt bowler that was tilted over his face.
Speaking through the closed door, he addressed the odd man on the other side, "Yes, what can I do for you?"
The man answered, "I have no time for this, Mr. Granger, I need to speak to your daughter right away."
"I'm very sorry, but she's resting at the moment." Responded Mr. Granger, "She's not feeling well and…"
He was suddenly cut off by the sound of the lock and deadbolt disengaging from the frame. The door swung open roughly as the odd man stepped through. He removed the bowler hat, revealing a scarred, disfigured face and a wildly spinning, magical eye that was fixed in a frame over where one of his normal eyes would normally be. Alex Granger then recognized him as 'Mad Eye' Moody.
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Granger, but I'm afraid I must insist that I see her. I wouldn't have barged in if this wasn't extremely important."
Alex sighed as he followed Mad Eye through the living room and up the stairs. "Does this have to do with the Potter boy?"
"Yes." Was Moody's simple reply as he opened the door to Hermione's bedroom. Alex was taken aback by Moody's brashness of walking into his daughter's room without even knocking, but remembered that the old man could see through walls and could tell if she wasn't decent, which caused him some concern in and of itself.
Hermione had her eyes closed, but was still awake when she heard her bedroom door open. She bolted upright in bed when she recognized Moody's gruff voice.
"Miss Granger, Headmistress McGonagall sent me here to get you. We just found out that Death Eaters attacked St. Mungo's Hospital early this morning and… Miss Granger, steady on!"
Hermione heard 'Death Eaters' and 'St. Mungo's.' Before the rest of the words were out of his mouth she let out a loud gasp and yelled, "Harry!" then launched herself from the bed, grabbed a set of robes and her wand from the top of her dresser and, before anyone could make a move to stop her, she disapparated from the room.
-----~-----
Harry had been flying over London for a few hours, trying to decide where he could go. He didn't feel the usual exhilaration that flying on his broomstick usually provided, being so angry and wrapped up in his thoughts. He briefly entertained the thought of entering Quality Quidditch Supplies and offering to sell his Firebolt, assuming he could get quite a few galleons for the 'broomstick owned by the famous Harry Potter,' and could probably double that if he signed it but the idea of selling off the gift from Sirius turned his stomach. Unfortunately, he needed money badly, and a good deal of it if he was going to continue his quest for the horcruxes. He could try to sell the house on Privet Drive, seeing how every emotional attachment he had to that place was firmly cemented in the negative, but that might create a paper trail directly to him.
He noticed the sky towards the eastern horizon was changing to the velvety purple that signaled the coming of the dawn. As he looked down, he saw the street that the Leaky Cauldron was on, and he was surprised to find that from the air, he couldn't see Diagon Alley, or any of the commercial wizarding areas.
'Diagon Alley… The twins' shop… Maybe I could get a loan from them. After all, I did give them the start-up capital for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes…'
Harry flew down towards the darkened, deserted alley behind The Leaky Cauldron. As he descended, he saw the wall that separated Diagon Alley from the rest of London. From the air, he could only see a dirty, rubbish strewn passageway that ran from the other side of the wall, between two large old buildings and emptied into the street on the other side of the block. He landed, drew his wand and tapped the appropriate brick and the arched opening sprung into existence. Awkwardly tucking his broom under his cloak, he stepped through the archway into the darkness of pre-dawn Diagon Alley.
Minutes later Harry found himself standing at the door of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Still concealed beneath his cloak, he fumbled with the large tome he was carrying, wedging it beneath his arm that was carrying his Firebolt. With his free hand, he reached for the hanging cord beside the door and gave it a tug then stepped back. He heard a chiming tinkle of bells coming from the open window of the flat above the shop.
He waited a minute and was about to step forward to ring again when he noticed a small object fly from the window above and drift down to the door. The small, white sphere had tiny fluttering wings on either side of it, much like a snitch, and a pupil that seemed to be scanning the area in front of the shop. Harry looked at it in wonder, thinking it looked much like 'Mad Eye' Moody's magical eye. Realizing that the floating eyeball couldn't see him, he lifted the hood of his cloak to expose his face. He heard excited voices coming from the window, immediately followed by a set of footsteps rushing down a set of stairs and across the floor of the shop. A moment later, he was quickly being ushered into the shop by the Weasley twins, Fred and George.
"Oi, Harry, what'cha doing out of the hospital?" asked Fred.
Harry, wanting very much to avoid any questions about what he was up to, quickly asked, "What is this thing?" pointing to the eyeball that was lazily floating in front of George.
"That, my friend, is one of our newest products, still experimental, mind you," said George.
"We call it a 'Peeper,' said Fred.
"We expect it to be a big hit amongst the voyeur crowd," said George.
"once we figure out how to make it smaller," continued Fred.
"and quieter," added George.
"and waterproof," finished Fred.
"Wait a minute," said Harry, with a shocked expression, "You're going to sell these to people just so they can peek in showers?"
"Well, I'm sure there are plenty of other uses…," answered George in a fake abashed tone.
Harry thought about it for a minute, and then said, "I think it's brilliant! Not the 'peeping into showers' thing, but I can see how it could be dead useful. How do you see through it?"
"Once the occulus is charmed, just incant, 'Loginquitas Visum,' and it binds the vision of one of your eyes to what the Peeper seesn" explained Fred.
"You control it by your wand movement," said George.
"It takes a fair shake to get used to…" said Fred.
"We still have quite a bit of work to do on it," said George.
"It has a very limited range," said Fred.
"and a very limited duration," continued George.
"and it doesn't work under water, it seems to block the magic so you lose control of it," finished Fred.
"Brilliant!" was all Harry could say as he watched the floating eye with awe. Fred and George looked at each other, both with uncharacteristically serious expressions, then looked back to Harry. They could plainly see that he was still in bad shape.
Fred began, "We're sure you didn't disturb our beauty sleep just so you could get a demonstration of our prototype products…"
"What are you doing here, mate?" asked George with none of his usual jocularity.
The wondrous smile that Harry had worn while watching the Peeper fell into a worried frown. He instantly started having second thoughts. He let out a heavy breath then asked, "I… I was just wondering how the shop was faring… How are you guys fixed financially?"
The brothers looked at each other again inquisitively. Whatever they were expecting Harry to say, that wasn't it. They both just shrugged and turned back to Harry.
"We're doing okay, we don't need any more money, if that's what you're asking." Said Fred.
"Yeah, you've given us quite enough, and we've been in the black for months, now." Said George.
"You don't understand," said Harry hoarsely, and then muttered under his breath, "Merlin, I hate doing this…"
"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Fred concernedly.
"I… Well, I… I need to borrow some money."
For the third time, the twins looked at each other, this time with dumbfounded expressions. Harry opened his mouth to explain when both twins broke out into riotous laughter.
"You had us going there for a second!" said George while gasping for breath.
"Yeah, imagine one of the richest wizards in Britain asking a Weasley for a loan!" said Fred while holding a stitch in his side.
George was wiping a tear from his eye when he caught the cold sober look on Harry's face. He stopped laughing as he elbowed Fred in the ribs. Fred pushed his brother in the shoulder in retort, and then followed his gaze to Harry. All laughter stopped.
"You're serious, aren't you?" asked George softly.
Fred's mouth dropped open when he saw Harry nod.
George shook his head as if he were trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind, and then asked, "What happened, Harry? Did the Ministry freeze your Gringott's account?"
Harry shook his head, "No, it seems that my 'legal guardian' heard about my vault, and about the inheritance I got from Sirius. It seems he made a substantial withdrawal from my vault, 'on my behalf,' of course."
"Dursley?" asked the twins in unison
Harry just nodded while he pulled his moneybag from his pocket and with a shaking hand, he tossed it to Fred and said, "My vault's empty. The Dursleys cleared it out, and then moved away while I was still at school. That's all I have left. I can't even afford to go back to school this year. I'm sure you can understand what this means."
Fred opened the bag and both twins gasped when they looked inside. Harry's stomach constricted and he felt a lump appear in his throat, as it did whenever the thought of his situation came to mind. 'Get a grip, Potter!' he thought while trying to push his despair down, 'Just get it over with!'
Harry squared his shoulders and steeled himself, "I really have nobody else I can turn to… how are you guys fixed financially?"
"Gringott's opens in an hour. We'll do what we can, mate." The twins said in unison.
An hour and a half later, the twins walked out of Gringotts and back to their shop where Harry was silently waiting. They handed Harry a bag containing five hundred galleons and one thousand muggle pounds.
"I have no idea when, or even if I can pay you back, you know."
"We wouldn't even have this shop if it wasn't for you, little brother," said Fred.
When Fred said 'little brother,' Harry felt the lump in his throat swell.
"Too right, consider that interest on your investment," said George.
"If you need more, let us know, we can do a little liquidating of our stock, but it'll take time."
Harry had to force down another surge of emotion. With a faltering voice, he said, "You have no idea how much this means to me." He turned around just as he was about to cover himself with the cloak, "One last thing, guys… I'd appreciate it if you kept my situation a secret… you know what a disaster it would be if this got out." Harry gave a wave and disappeared under his cloak. As George opened the shop door to let Harry out, an owl entered the upstairs window, swooped down the stairs, and landed on the counter, waiting for Fred to remove the message from its leg.
Harry quietly walked down the nearly empty street. When he was passing the now defunct Florean Fortescu's Ice Cream Parlor, he ducked into the empty patio and sat down in the far corner of the enclosure. He was breathing heavily and his heart was pounding against his rib cage. He tried unsuccessfully to stifle the sobs that escaped his throat. As tears trailed from his eyes, one phrase kept repeating in his mind:
'What's happening to me?'
He sat for a few minutes, trying to get his chaotic emotions under control with only limited success. He only managed to turn the despair he was feeling back into anger. He slowly stood and clutched the book and his Firebolt firmly to his body.
"Ministry be damned!" he softly grumbled to nobody in particular and an instant later, he disapparated with the slightest of 'cracks.'
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