Bells, Books & Candles
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Part Two
6 The Cloak
The cloak was smooth black velvet on the outside, and lined with a silky black fabric that had a surface like liquid. Harry held Volkova’s cloak in his arms, trying his best to hide it under his own coat as he hurried along. He looked vaguely like a skinny pregnant woman with the bulge under his coat. Volkova’s cloak even smelled like her, Harry decided, burying his nose in the shoulder and collar when he pulled the material free again. It was all sweet and clean. He really shouldn’t be enjoying the feeling of sneaking away with her things, but his heart was skipping around with excitement. He’d been waiting for weeks for her to leave something personal lying around so he could get a reading on her. Weeks on end! Well, okay, maybe not several weeks, but at least since she had given him a massive mental zing for trying to read her hand when they had had dinner with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape at the end of November.
People were beginning to crowd into Hogsmeade’s streets. The Christmas rush was in full swing. The air was crisp and cold, and the snowfall was heightening the pleasant mood of the people that were running about, ready to shop with great enthusiasm. Harry still had shopping to do. But that could wait until later today. For now, he was going to be all alone with Professor Volkova’s cloak, and he was going to get to the bottom of her reasons for being at Hogwarts, and what she wanted with him.
Harry reached the entrance to his place, and glanced back to see Ron closing the door to Grimwood’s store. This was actually a back entrance to the house, the front side being on the far side against the residential area, rather than here in the merchant district. The curve of the block on the back side was tight and small, and that made the opposite end of the house much more spacious and wide. It was a quirky-shaped house, and that’s what Harry liked about it. He felt the wards open to admit him, recognizing that he was allowed in. Maybe he was imagining it, but he always sensed Lupin’s magic in the wards– open and loving to him. Harry tugged on the door knob, but nothing happened. How very odd. Remus had spelled the knob to activate at his touch, allowing him entrance without a key. Harry gripped the knob more firmly, and gave it a small shake.
“Alohomora,” he murmured.
The knob simply would not budge. Harry threw Volkova’s cloak up over his shoulder and dug around for his wand. He tapped it on the door, and the knob spell engaged. It rotated freely when he touched it again.
“Finally,” Harry muttered, pushing his way into the dark house. He turned to close the door. Someone flattened him mercilessly against the wood. He felt as if his very breath was sucked out of him. The lights went out, and Harry collapsed down into the over-powering grip that was surrounding him.
When he came to seconds later, he was sprawled on the kitchen floor. The door was closed, and the bar had been lowered. The thin window that faced the street was covered in snow. The wintery world outside the panes glowed distantly. Harry’s glasses were gone, leaving everything in a blur. A dark shadow moved over him, seized him around the waist, and began to drag him in the direction of the cold fireplace.
Harry exploded with the sudden energy born of fear for his life, searching for his wand as he flailed against the person holding onto him. A stolen second glancing up told him he was perilously close to being dragged to the portal. He couldn’t find his wand! It was gone! It wasn’t in his clothes anywhere.
“Accio wand!” Harry exclaimed, holding out his hand. The pocket of the person holding onto him jumped and danced. Harry immediately made a grab for the pocket in question. There wasn’t enough time to get his wand free. They had reached the aperture. The cold stones were scraping Harry’s knees. Potter got a firm grip on one row of bricks, planted both feet on the ground, and wrenched his body free. He dashed for the staircase ten feet away but never got there.
A silently-cast spell hit Harry, and his body went numb. Although his mind was alive, and filled with panicked commands to move, his limbs did not obey. He pitched forward onto the stairs, and the form in black moved over him, covering his eyes with one hand. Another silent spell was cast. This one blinded him.
Hands lifted Harry around the waist. It felt like a man’s grip. He didn’t know why, but the idea of it being a man frightened him much more than if it had been a woman. Harry opened his lips to scream, and a hand moved over his mouth, muffling his voice. Harry dug in hard with his teeth. The hand left his mouth. There was a hard thump against the back of his head. Harry took a deep breath and would have screamed for all of Hogsmeade to hear if the hand hadn’t covered his mouth yet again.
“Shhhhh,” the sinister whisper tickled like ice down Harry’s spine.
Harry was dragged further up the stairs. His body was draped on a horizontal surface– too close to the ground floor to be his own bedroom. They must have been in Lupin’s room. Oh no. Remy was going to be so angry. The hands tugged his limbs outward and open. Harry quivered as he imagined what he must look like, spread-eagle and vulnerable. If he hadn’t already been immobilized by magic, he would have probably been too terrified to move.
One hand stayed over his mouth, and the second cupped first over his mid-section and then secreted around to grasp him by the ass. A body covered his, too heavy to bear for long. He could feel the blunt gouge of an erect cock pressing through two sets of clothes first into his thigh and secondly directly between his legs, against his own cock. For a strange moment, he was positive he recognized a scent in the air. A thick nose pressed to his neck. The man moaned as if in pain or torment, and the reverberation went through Harry’s body. It was then a deep, familiar voice filled his ear.
“Are you scared, Mr. Potter?”
Harry’s voice returned when the hand left his mouth.
“Damn it, Snape! Get off of me!” Potter howled angrily, his fury overriding his fear when he recognized who had captured him. “Undo these spells!”
“Why should I?”
“I can’t move! I can’t see!”
“That’s the point,” Snape whispered, his smooth voice causing a rush of pleasure to go down Harry’s spine again, washing away the terror from before.
“Let me go, now,” Harry demanded impatiently. “Where are my glasses? Give me back my wand!”
“You haven’t answered my question. Are you scared?”
“No. It’s you.”
Snape voiced his disapproval in a nasty hiss, and let his hands roam slowly over Harry’s vulnerable frame.
“That’s simply not good enough. What are you going to do? How are you going to defend yourself?”
“You proved your point, all right?”
“No, it’s not all right!” Severus raised his voice. He crushed the young man’s frame with his own. “How are you going to defend yourself, Mr. Potter?”
“Just get off me,” Harry snarled.
“What are you going to do?” Snape asked. He yanked open Harry’s coat and began to lift the young man’s sweatshirt.
“What are you doing?” Harry laughed nervously. A painful bite bloomed wet under his right ear.
“This does not feel like fear,” Snape growled, his hand covering Harry’s hardening cock, giving it a leisurely squeeze. Harry wondered how he was responding there if the rest of his body was immobilized. That didn’t make any sense. Because he was breathing and his heart was beating, the logical part of his brain reasoned that whatever spell Snape had used must have stopped voluntary but not involuntary movement. The logical part of his brain stopped functioning shortly after that though.
“Stop,” Harry gasped. “Severus, please.”
“Begging for mercy will not do here. You are beyond mercy. Who do you think you’re dealing with?”
“Severus, cut it out.”
“Since when is it appropriate for you to call me by my first name, Mr. Potter?”
“Professor, stop.”
“Repeat after me, Mr. Potter. ‘I will not wander alone ever again, Professor Snape’.”
“I will not....not....oh,” Harry shivered as Snape bit his neck on the left side. Snape’s mouth moved lower, not with bites but with careful kisses and licks. His tongue brushed Harry’s vampire scars, and a shudder went through them both.
Harry concentrated his clairvoyance on Snape, and was consumed by the intensity of the lust burning through Severus. The man was literally burning with the need to continue licking every single inch of Harry until the young man was panting with pleasure. He wanted to take his cock in his mouth. He wanted Harry’s fingers curled in his hair, wanted the teen’s legs open wide in submission. Harry could see Severus imagining (remembering?) running his hands between Harry’s legs, watching his thighs part, watching his face warm with redness as his mouth opened around a moan when Snape caressed his balls. Severus was remembering this? When the hell had that happened?? Harry tried to concentrate harder, but Severus pushed him out of his mind, out of those thoughts.
“ ‘I will not wander alone ever again, Professor Snape’. That’s what I want you to say,” the Potions Master tormented him with another heated whisper, letting his tongue brush Harry’s ear lobe.
“I will not,” Harry managed but he stopped when he felt fingers pushing his shirt up to his neckline. A mouth moved over his left nipple, the tip of the tongue teasing him.
“ ‘I will not wander alone ever again, Professor Snape’,” Severus repeated, leaving a trail of bites down Harry’s chest clear to his navel. Harry wasn’t sure for one insane minute whether Snape was trying to punish him or reward him, and he was fairly certain Severus couldn’t decide either. He was teaching Harry a lesson, but it might not have been the lesson he had intended his pupil to learn.
“I will not wander.....ohhh....” A tongue tickled his navel, lapping hungrily. Harry took one breath, and exhaled it shakily. Arms went under Harry’s shoulders, then hands caressed his back along his spine. Bites and licks moved down his neck. Snape sucked Harry’s vampire scars, and Potter gave up any hope of hiding his need after that. He mewed his approval as rather-knowing fingers found a spot in his back that made his temperature rise exponentially. Those long fingers found their way briefly down inside the back of his trousers, moving over his tail bone, up and back and around teasingly. Harry forgot how to breathe for several seconds. Severus nibbled on Harry’s ear, and put his tongue inside again.
“Harry....Mr. Potter.....the next Death Eater who knocks you unconscious and renders you immobile is not going to...not going to...” Severus tried to explain, but Harry groaned out loudly, drowning out whatever Snape was saying. “Promise me you will not wander alone ever ever ever again, Harry.”
All Potter could manage were surprised, lusty groans as Snape punctuated each ‘ever’ with a thrust between Harry’s legs. Snape forgot himself briefly. A wet mouth captured Harry’s ear. A tongue darted inside briefly, and moved from there down Harry’s cheek. At last, their mouths joined, and Severus stroked Harry’s back while sucking on his tongue. The dark feelings and desires that had built up inside Harry’s body surged out of him as if he’d been exorcized.
“Finite Incantata,” Snape whispered, lying down on the young man again with his full weight. He moaned with frustration, his voice more silky than Volkova’s cloak had ever been.
Now that he could move again, Harry wrapped his arms up around Snape’s back and captured one thigh with both legs. He nuzzled his way under Severus’s chin, venturing one delicate, tentative kiss.
“Do it again,” Harry pleaded, his voice a wish, a whisper. “Please. Please. I want more. Oh, please.”
“Mr. Potter.”
That was all Snape had to say to make his position perfectly clear to Harry. Potter meekly uncoiled his limbs from around his Potions Master. The professor raised himself up on one arm to get a better vantage from which to glare down at his shortsighted pupil.
“It can’t be you actually enjoyed that, did you?” Snape asked after an uncomfortable silence. There was no humor in his voice whatsoever, and his face was a mask. But Severus wasn’t fooling Harry for a second. Potter had felt Snape’s lust even if the man couldn’t admit to it himself. So how often was Severus fantasizing about giving Harry head? When exactly had Snape been caressing Harry so familiarly?
“Sadistic bastard,” Potter whispered. “I could make you do whatever I want, you know?” Harry threatened unwisely.
“So could I,” Severus gave a dark, mirthful reply while he covered those hungry green eyes with one hand. “Damn it, Harry. Don’t wander alone. I promise you, the next time someone grabs you in the dark, it’s not going to be the makings of one of your naive sexual fantasies.”
“Why don’t you get off me so I can go change my clothes?” Harry replied acidly.
“Harry, it’s lucky for you that Professor Snape appeared when he did,” the Headmaster was saying. Harry lifted his cup of tea to his lips, sipping the hot liquid. He wondered vaguely how amused Dumbledore would be if he knew Harry had had to change his underwear before returning to the bookstore. Would the Headmaster be curious how long it had taken Snape to come out of the restroom off Lupin’s room while Harry was changing upstairs in the attic? Across the Modern Era Room, Severus raised his dark eyes from his book. They shone with wicked humor and honest annoyance.
“Mr. Potter will not wander alone again, Headmaster. Will he, Mr. Potter?”
“No, sir,” Harry intoned.
“Not even across the street,” Snape added. “Will he, Mr. Potter?”
“No, sir,” Harry growled, gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes at Snape.
“That’s enough, both of you,” Dumbledore smiled. “I’m going to escort Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley back to the school, once they have finished their shopping in town. I trust you and Professor Volkova can see Harry safely back to Hogwarts before nightfall?”
“Yes, sir. We will,” Volkova answered. She was standing in front of the Magical Weapons shelf, caressing the spines very lovingly. She spotted Blunt Objects: Practical Uses, and grinned to herself. Harry had his mind on blunt objects of a different sort. He was also smiling to himself for a half-second. Snape caught him smiling, and snarled at him. Harry snarled back. Harry drank his tea, hoping Dumbledore wasn’t reading their minds.
“Where are Hermione and Ron?” Potter asked, looking around.
“I believe I saw them heading for the Dark Arts Room,” Volkova said. “An alarm of some sort sounded. Madam Grimwood went to investigate.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Shortly before you and Professor Snape burst in cursing at each other,” she answered. “He was dragging me by my hair,” Harry defended.
“Be glad I chose a northerly hand-hold,” Snape interjected, coming over and sitting down in the chair beside Potter’s. “More tea?” he said, filling Harry’s cup before he could answer yes or no. He filled a cup for himself as well. “Sugar?” He plunked three cubes into the china, and Harry held his cup steady, fuming at the Potions Master. Snape’s face curled with maliciousness, which Dumbledore didn’t see as Snape had his back to the Headmaster. “Cream?” Severus asked innocently. Potter jerked his cup away.
“No,” Harry growled, blushing hotly. He licked droplets of sloshed tea off the back of his hand. Immediately fascinated, Severus drank in the vision of that darting, pink tongue before quickly looking away. He had already poured too much cream into his own cup though.
“You two mind your manners before Madam Grimwood throws you out,” Dumbledore said. Modig was returning with two bruised and battered teens in tow.
“Here you are. Safe and sound. Mr. Weasley got a step too close, and the Curse Wall let him have it. Miss Granger was caught in the crossfire. But they’ll be as good as new once they have caught their breaths.”
“The books were attacking us,” Ron muttered. Hermione straightened her disarrayed hair, pulling her left shoe back on. Ron had the distinct imprint of a canvas cover and a ninety degree angle on his right cheek.
“Never met a more uncivilized library in all my life,” Hermione complained.
“If you want a real thrill, next time you come, you can have five minutes in the Jungle Room,” Grimwood teased. “Sorry about the lumps. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got sorting and reshelving to do.”
“We’ll see you at Hogwarts before nightfall,” Dumbledore repeated to Snape. Severus nodded.
“Why is Harry staying?” Ron asked, narrowing his eyes at Snape.
“Because Harry’s not done shopping,” Potter replied.
Dumbledore led Hermione and Ron away in spite of their protests. A burst of snowflakes filled the air as they left the store. Harry sipped his tea in silence. Volkova brought her book, and sat in the chair on Harry’s other side. Harry experienced a weird, discordant familiarity with the tableau of the three of them here and now, the feeling of sitting in front of the fire with a fatherly man and a motherly woman on either side of him. He knew with certainty he would be doing it again. Oddly enough, he knew it would be with Volkova and with Snape, maybe even in front of this same fireplace. He couldn’t quite put his mind around the specifics. Searching through space and time was like studying the shadows of leaves in bright sunlight. He couldn’t identify the specific leaves from their shadows alone. He shook his head, and drank another gulp.
“Mr. Potter,” Snape said after two minutes’ silence. “This is not an ‘eat biscuits and drink tea’ store.”
Harry needled Severus with a sharp gaze.
“Mr. Potter, get a book,” Snape ordered, not looking up from his page.
Harry took another drink of tea, ignoring Severus. It proved to be the fastest way to spike the Potions Master’s blood pressure. Well, perhaps the second fastest way, Harry mused, licking a neglected drop of tea off his wrist.
“Mr. Potter,” Snape said ominously.
“I can highly recommend the magical weapons books,” Volkova said, standing again. She retrieved a peacock-blue book and gave it to Harry. Potter held it on his lap, and went for another biscuit. A hand grasped his, and held on tight. He dropped the biscuit in several pieces.
“Mr. Potter, I want to hear pages turning. I want to see your eyes moving. I want to imagine the little voice in your head sounding out the tough syllables in the very big words. Do I make myself clear?”
Snape let go of Harry’s hand. Harry set his cup aside, picked up the book Volkova had given him, and climbed to his feet.
“Where are you going?” Volkova asked.
“Jungle Room.”
“Why?”
“I’m going to find out how to dig a tiger pit in a dungeon,” Harry replied, taking the book with him as he left to Modern Era room.
“I see Madam Grimwood let you have a book,” Snape said to Harry as they trudged around in the ankle-deep snow, trying to keep warm as night was falling.
“Yes,” Harry said, handing the brown-paper-wrapped package to Severus. All afternoon, Severus had been trying to make up for snapping at the boy (to say nothing of pinning him helpless to Remus Lupin’s bed and making him come all over himself). All afternoon, Harry had rebuffed the attempted apology, until now. Snape delicately unwrapped the seam that concealed the spine, moving imperceptibly closer to Potter. He wanted to smell Harry. He wanted to drink him in like the finest incense. If it were at all socially-acceptable, Snape would’ve grovelled at his feet and begged forgiveness. Severus wanted to pull Harry into one of these dark alleys, push him against a wall, and go down on him right there. He had come so close this afternoon. Too close. Had he frightened the boy? Had he hurt the boy? No. Far worse. He had bruised his pride. Harry had been sulking like an offended feline.
“What is taking that woman so long?” Snape wondered, shifting his feet as Volkova bustled around the post office. He was actually happy that Anna was inside. She had spent much of the day glued to Snape, staying as close to him as possible to insure he would not have any time alone with Harry. Time alone with Harry was the only thing that Severus truly couldn’t get enough of lately.
This afternoon was only a small taste of what had been building up in Snape all month, a direct consequence of having had Harry all to himself for November and the extreme, oppressive loneliness that had set in when the boy had returned to Gryffindor Tower. Snape had spent December giving Harry detention after detention, until such time as Harry finally had started showing up at his office around eight purely out of habit. Potter brought his homework, and quietly occupied a chair in front of the desk as Snape graded homework at the desk. Harry stayed until bedtime, and left with a casual ‘bye’ each night. There had been evenings where they didn’t say a single word to each other beyond ‘hello’ and ‘bye’.
Potter was taking minute doses of the anti-vampire potions until January, and that gave Snape something of an excuse to have the boy around him, but he wanted him constantly in his presence, where he could keep an eye on him, protect him, study him, collect him, and quietly adore him. Snape stopped giving Potter detentions, and Harry still showed up. All seemed right with the world. Had they reached an agreement? Did Harry understand why Severus wanted him there? It was their private time, their private world.
“They seem to be negotiating the price,” Harry commented, watching Snape pull the paper off the book.
“Why did Madam Grimwood give you this?” Severus asked.
Harry puzzled. “Blunt Objects: Practical Uses? Why did she give me this? Maybe Volkova is mailing my clairvoyance manual,” Harry worried, putting his face against the window. Anna was selecting a very large owl for the package she wanted delivered.
“No. I’ve never seen Madam Grimwood make a mistake. If she gave you this book, you’re going to need it,” Snape assured Harry grimly. “Besides, Volkova was in the Renaissance Art section. She dragged me up there to ask if I thought a particular book was too advanced for a first-year student.”
“Is Madam Grimwood clairvoyant?” Harry asked, peeling his face off the window.
“In as far as books and where needed, yes,” Snape replied. “She even left you a message,” Sev added, flipping open the cover. Harry picked up the brown paper that Snape had dropped. He folded it in four and put it inside the book.
“ ‘To Harry Potter from Modig Grimwood. Be creative!’ What kind of message is that?”
“Cryptic,” Snape mused, turning pages. “ ‘In your everyday life, you are literally surrounded by deadly weapons. Wherever you go, there are sharp corners, spiky sticks, and a myriad of everyday objects that can aid you in your time of need. The purpose of this book is to help you determine which objects suit which needs, and the most expedient means to the desired end of your sticky situation. We are going to help you get friendly with your animal side. You may not think a wizard needs anything but a wand. But there always comes a time when you are separated from your wand, and then where will you be? Let go of your inhibitions and let’s talk about those three special words we all know and love– BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA!’”
“Are you making that up?” Harry asked, suppressing a disturbed laugh.
“How I wish I were. I can’t believe Madam Grimwood gave you such a book. I’m going to have to talk to Dumbledore about this.”
Harry scrunched up against Snape’s side, and flipped several pages, reaching the Table of Contents, where he read a few chapter titles.
“Friend or Foe. Dead or Alive. Maim or Mangle. Holy Toledo,” Harry laughed, taking the book from Severus. He turned to the beginning of Chapter One– Just Another Naked Ape. “ ‘Clear your mind and consider the object in your hands’.”
Harry closed the book and turned away from Snape, holding it at arm-level for about ten seconds before reopening to the same page and facing him again.
“ ‘If the first thing that came to your mind was ‘What a lovely book’, we have a lot of work to do. However, if the first thought that sprang up was ‘Four odd pounds, flat object with sharp sides, capable of delivering any number of death blows’, congratulations, you’ve found the book you need’.”
“Hmm,” Snape murmured.
“What was the first thing you thought?” Harry asked him.
“That Madam Grimwood hasn’t lost her somewhat erratic sense of humor. When I was your age and I asked her for a manual on clever dating techniques, she gave me an animal trapping guide. What did you first think?”
“That we’d better get ourselves back to Hogwarts as quickly as possible,” Harry said.
“A very prudent assumption,” Snape agreed, taking out his wand. “Go hurry her along, will you?”
Severus pushed Harry inside the post office, and then glued his dark eyes to the street, cataloguing each and every person who passed by.
“You two are making me nervous,” Volkova said, her boots crunching in the snow. Each happy jingle of every silvery bell was making Harry’s eyes dart around. He was already breathing as if he’d run a marathon. Snape was walking backwards, with one hand on Harry’s person at all times.
“Walk faster,” Snape whispered. “Stay calm, Mr. Potter.”
“Why don’t we use the Floo at Mr. Potter’s house?” Volkova asked, minimizing her packages, and slipping them inside her baggy trousers.
“Too risky,” Snape answered. “What if they’ve already managed to by-pass the wards and get into the house? We will only go to the house as a last resort.”
“Remy spent a whole month on those wards,” Harry defended.
“I was able to break them inside ten minutes,” Snape replied.
“Wish I knew where my cloak was,” Anna muttered.
“In my house. Sorry,” Harry stammered. Volkova dug in her other pocket and drew out a red string. With a flip of magic, the red string expanded into a fluffy muffler, which she wove around her neck, the ends extending down to her waist.
“Great. You can bring me hot tea when I catch pneumonia,” she murmured to him. “Where are we going? Why are you two so nervous?”
“Madam Grimwood gave Mr. Potter a book,” Snape revealed. He circled around to the other side of the street, pulling Harry along. Volkova followed, looking both ways before joining them in the shadows.
“What book did she give you, dear?” Volkova asked.
“Blunt Objects: Practical Uses,”Harry shivered. Anna dug in her pockets, withdrawing her everyday wand.
“That changes matters,” she agreed. “Where are we going?”
“Hogwarts,” Harry said, his brow darkening.
“Don’t be snide. You’re spending too much time with him,” she said as she pointed to Snape and gave a grim smile. “Do you have the book?” Anna asked. Harry peeled it out of his cloak and gave it to her. Volkova tapped the book with her wand.
“What are you doing?” Snape asked.
“Unlocking the book. Harry, hold the book tightly in both hands, and don’t lose your grip on it. It should act as a training manual for you. You stay between Severus and I, and try not to clobber us as you swing, okay, love?”
Harry nodded. Snape gave Volkova a look that appraised her, and although his frown didn’t alter, his eyes relaxed slightly.
“This way. I have a concealed portkey we can use,” Snape said, pulling them down into an alley where strings of bells and lights glowed.
Six streets over, they were moving at a measurable pace over the cobblestones, their breaths rising and falling in the air around them. Snape covered ground like a prowling panther, one hand at all times holding Harry’s arm or even his hand. Volkova moved backwards and forwards, as if circling to catch her own shadow. She paused them, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder.
“How much further?” she asked.
“Two more blocks,” Snape whispered back. Harry wheezed, holding the book tight to his chest. “I warned you about this. You're going to be physically weaker than usual until you recover your strength. It can't be helped beyond taking the restorative potion. It could take weeks yet for you to feel like yourself again. Are you all right? Can you make it?”
“Can’t catch....my breath....” Harry complained. He fell to his knees, and Snape went down as well. He pulled off Harry’s coat and made it vanish. “What are you doing?” Harry gasped, shivering in the cold. Snape emptied Harry’s person of anything besides his clothes. All the contents of Harry’s pockets, the few presents he had managed to buy, vanished into the same nothingness. “Where did you send them?” Harry asked.
“Your house.”
“Past the wards?”
“I changed your wards to allow myself and my magic entrance whenever necessary. I hope that wasn’t too presumptuous of me?”
“No,” Harry said, almost smiling.
“We’ll get your things tomorrow. Book.”
“He needs to keep that,” Volkova said urgently.
“No. It’s too heavy. It’s going,” Snape decided.
“We need to move,” Volkova added, taking one of Harry’s arms and pulling him up. “Come on.”
“What?”
Snape had snatched up the Blunt Objects book, and had touched his wand to it, when a shot of magic enveloped him. It made his hair stand on end briefly. The book hit the ground, and magic dust exploded from the pages as they were tickled around by the wind. The brown paper that Madam Grimwood had wrapped the book in unfolded like a tent. Harry stooped to reach the brown tent. Volkova kept a claw-like grip on his arm. Snape stiffened in place. Harry reached back for him, but Snape slapped his hand away.
“It’s a confundus,” Snape growled, vanishing the book into mist. “Get him out of here at once, Volkova.”
“No!” Harry yelled.
“Go!” Snape repeated, staggering and shaking his head. Volkova pulled on Harry with all her strength.
“We aren’t leaving,” Harry said, pulling against her and reaching back for Severus again. Snape was struggling to get to his feet, shaking his head wildly.
“Do you know how to apparate?” Volkova asked, pushing Harry bodily ahead of her. “We can’t leave him!” Harry screamed. Volkova pushed him forward. Snape was on his feet, but headed in the direction back where they had come from. “Where is he going?” Harry wondered frantically.
“They aren’t after him. They’re after you,” Volkova hissed. Footsteps could be heard all around them, echoing off the walls, echoing on the bricks. Harry pulled out his wand. Volkova was cursing under her breath. “Damn it. Why did you take my cloak?”
“I wanted to read you.”
“Wonderful. Terrific. Damn your curiosity, Harry.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry stammered.
“Do you know how to apparate?”
“No.”
“At your age?”
“No one has taught me how,” Harry complained.
“What about your guardian, Mr. Lupin?”
“He’s my god-father, not my guardian, and he hasn’t had the chance,” Harry said sadly. “We have to go back for Severus.”
“Come. Now,” Volkova growled. She touched his hand, pouring a vial over it, and Harry felt the magic pass between them in a tingle like fire and oil.
“What was that? What did you do?” he asked, trying to pull his hand free of hers. She held on tightly.
“Lentus Rapidus,” she explained.
“That’s in the Potions textbook for next term.”
“Do you remember what it does?”
“No,” he trembled.
“You and I are sealed together. We are one entity. If I can get to a place where I can apparate, you will apparate with me. If, God forbid, you are taken, I am taken as well.”
“What?!” Harry protested, trying more desperately to yank his hand from her. The trouble was it wasn’t two hands any longer– it was more of a ten-legged spider with five feet up and five feet down. Her moon-silver ring clattered on her skinny finger, and he felt the warmth of the metal against their skin. “I feel nauseous,” he warned, tearing his eyes away from their mutual hand.
“You’re not supposed to use it on human flesh. You’ll begin to feel what I am feeling, and I will feel what you are feeling. Our vessels will join. Our blood will mingle. The longer we stay connected, the worse it will get. Getting us separated again may be messy and unpleasant, and probably painful. There may be effects afterwards as well. They shouldn’t last longer than a day or two though. I can’t take the chance of losing you, Mr. Potter.”
“Why are you nauseous?” he questioned.
“Withdrawal symptoms. I’m attempting to wean myself off a particular potion. There’s no time to explain. We have to go.”
“What about Severus?”
“I’ll come back for him when you are safe.”
“No!” Harry yelled. “No! We go back for him now!”
“Potter!” Volkova ordered, using an authoritative tone he had never heard from her, not even in class. Harry ignored her, pulling with all his might in the direction from which they had come. Footsteps echoed around them in the other alley ways that intersected with the street they were now traveling down. All the shops were on the main streets. These were residential homes, tall brick houses on winding lanes. Volkova pulled Harry down into the shadows, and waited as a worried woman went by, her brows in her hairline as she stared at them.
“Happy Christmas,” she said nervously, running away from them after she had passed them. Her heels thudded on the snowy bricks. Volkova closed her eyes in concentration, and Harry felt as if she were trying to do a spell on them both, but it wouldn’t congeal. He could sense when spells had solidified, and this one wouldn’t pull itself together.
“I’m afraid you’re interfering with my magic,” she decided.
“I am not,” Harry defended.
“You don’t want to leave, so I can’t apparate.”
“We have to find Severus.”
“We have to leave!” Volkova hissed. “I’ll come back to get him once you are safe. You don’t believe me. I can feel your distrust. Don’t you DARE try to engage your clairvoyance against me. Do you understand me?” She pointed a long finger at him.
“Yes, ma’am,” Harry said, worried. “Where are we going?” he demanded when she surged forward.
“I can’t apparate because you don’t want to leave. I don’t know where Snape’s hidden portkey is,” Volkova said. “We have no choice but to go back to your house, or to run the distance back to Hogwarts. What can I do to help you trust me, Harry?”
“Doesn’t Madam Grimwood have a Floo?” he avoided the question.
“She hasn’t been open long enough to get connected to the school again. She was going to set up the Floo tomorrow with the Headmaster’s permission.”
“What about Fred and George?” Harry asked.
“Who?”
“Ron’s brothers. They have a shop in Hogsmeade, and they are connected to the school,” Harry suggested. “You’re mad I’m worried about Severus,” Harry said, following reluctantly. Volkova eyed him angrily but didn’t have a chance to answer.
Radiant energy lit the street, and an ugly purple cloud came out from the alley to their left. Anna expelled a halo of white light from her wand, and it repelled the purple cloud until the two clouds congealed together and vanished into the night air. To his surprise, she put away her wand.
“I know you can’t run far like this. Do you think you can make it to your friends’ shop?”
“Yes,” Harry replied.
“First, we’re going to practice a couple quick spells. Give me your wand.”
“What?” Harry whispered, circling her side so that one of them stared one way, and one stared the other way.
“On the count of three, we’re doing a fire calamity. Do you know what that is?”
“No,” Harry said. “I see shadows over there.”
“How many?”
“Four or five.”
“Same my direction. Okay. It’s very simple, love. Ignis calamitus.”
“Ignis calamitus. That sounds messy. What about the houses?”
“You have no choice,” she insisted.
“They’re getting closer,” Harry whispered. He could make out six figures now, lurking in the alley, all in robes and masks. Death Eaters. His body quaked. He fought away visions of the graveyard where he had fought Voldemort and the Death Eaters, of the attack at the Ministry of Magic, of Voldemort’s horrible laugh, of Sirius’s face as he vanished behind the Veil.
“Ignis, ventus, aqua aut terra,”Volkova said, bringing him back to reality. (AN 3) Had she seen what had been in his mind? How attached were they with this potion? He couldn’t read her thoughts, and she clearly did not want him to use his clairvoyance. But physically he could sense that she was feeling his fear.
“What?”
“Fire, wind, water, or earth?” Volkova whispered, giving him back his wand and taking out her own again. “If we combine our efforts, the spell will be stronger.”
“As one entity, we probably have to do the same spell,” Harry speculated.
“Ignis, ventus, aqua aut terra. You decide.”
“Ventus. Wind?”
“Hurricane Harry,” Volkova laughed softly. “All right. Are you ready?”
“They’re getting closer,” Harry murmured.
“On three, Harry. Not before,” Anna said, crouching slightly. Harry’s blood was turning cold. He felt Volkova tremble, and knew that she was scared as well. Somehow that made him feel better. “One. Two. Three.”
“Ventus calamitus!” they yelled as one, pointing in opposite directions. Harry was held to the ground only by the strength of Volkova’s hand attached to his. The snow was swept off the bricks. Christmas decorations were ripped away, and fell tinkling with sound several blocks away. They didn’t linger to find out if the spell had caught the followers. Volkova was already rushing Harry along.
Their footsteps rang on the empty bricks until they reached snow again, three blocks away, back in the merchant district. Anna and Harry collided with a group of shoppers, and packages went into the air like colorful balls, bouncing back to the ground. The people in the street parted down the middle, dodging the running duo as best as they could.
“How far?” Volkova asked. “Is your house closer than the shop? Does your house have upper floors?” Volkova called. “Is there a bedroom on the top?”
“The house is probably closer, yes. My bedroom is on the top floor,” Harry replied, wondering why she’d ask a question like that at a time like this. Robed figures were appearing from the direction Harry and Anna had emerged, clothes askew, faces hidden again behind masks that had been rearranged.
“You have to let go of my magic and let me have control of yours,” she ordered.
“How do I do that?” he wondered.
“Trust me,” she whispered.
She ran straight for a brick wall, holding out her wand ahead of her. This, Harry decided, was not the best way to get him to trust her. He tried very hard to believe she had his best interests at heart. After all, if she were in league with Voldemort, she wouldn’t be risking life and limb running through the streets of Hogsmeade like this, would she?
“Distortio!” she called. The bricks parted en masse like water rippling on the surface of a lake, allowing them entrance through the hat seller’s shop. Volkova’s distortion spell had parted the wall and the merchandise that had been hanging on it as well. She sped ahead without looking back, dragging Harry along. She aimed her wand at the next wall in their way. “Distortio!”
Harry glanced behind, and watched in fascination as the robed figures tried to follow through the hole that was closing. One got stuck half-way in and out, and began howling in agony as the wall solidified around him. His severed leg dropped to the ground, twitching around. After the wall closed, the other Death Eaters burst in through the regular door. Patrons fled in horror, though not without recognizing Potter.
Multi-colored shots of energy whizzed by Harry’s head, and he lost his balance, unaware that Volkova had turned and they were now headed up a staircase in the cloak makers’ store. Anna was on the landing, and pulled him upright with a simple yank. She aimed her wand at the window which would take them outside on the third floor. It twisted outward with the crinkling of glass and splintering of wood, and folded back on itself again after they had escaped out onto the sloped roof. Harry could see fractures running through the glass and cracks scarring across the wood. Clearly this distorion spell wasn't good for certain materials. But the bricks didn't seem to have minded much.
Harry filed away the thoughts as they pounded out onto the sloped roof. They slid back to the ground with a painful crunch of bricks and bones. Undaunted by skinned shins and bruised knees, Volkova pulled Harry to his feet and kept running. Shops went by in a blur. Crossing an intersecting street, they narrowly missed a horse and carriage. Anna was going for the wall of another house. Harry glanced down the street towards where Fred and George had their shop. The lights were on and the doors were wide open in spite of the snow and wind. One of the Weasley twins spotted Harry and Volkova, but there was no time to shout to him.
“Arachneme,” Volkova called. This time they went up the wall instead of through it. The Weasley twin that had seen them pulled out his wand and headed forward. Volkova pulled Potter down behind a sign that was on the roof. “Do you want to try to apparate again?”she asked, pausing to allow him to catch his breath.
“If we apparate attached, how can you be so sure we’re going to come back together properly at the other end?” he panted.
“We do would run the risk of becoming further entangled,” she admitted. “Perhaps we need another calamity. Ignis, ventus, aqua aut terra?”
“HARRY!” A voice shouted below. It was Fred, Harry thought.
“Ignis,” Harry decided.
“On three,” she nodded.
“What about the people?” Harry fretted.
“If I saw people running and other people chasing them, I’d hit the ground. Wouldn’t you? Especially if they’re throwing around spells,” Anna grinned, strangely-out-of-place happiness glowing in her face. It couldn’t be she was enjoying this, Potter wondered. He calmed his own fear and reached into her, figuratively speaking, to see what he could sense.
This was work. This was her job. She was doing what she’d been trained to do. This is what she was here to do– protect him. He felt it clear as if she had said the words– “I’m here to protect you”. Anna Volkova had been trained as a bodyguard? That didn’t make sense. She was a vampire killer. Former vampire killer.
He got blasted with a mental remembrance of her pulling someone through a crowded market on the run from pursuers in black robes and turbans. The strange smells and sounds in the air were tantalizing. She turned to see the man, could feel a powerful chest rising and falling against her back as they crouched to hide in the shadows. He was a man with blond hair and hazel-brown eyes, and he grinned boyishly at her in spite of the chaos around them. Her whole body flushed with lustful desire so strong Harry was embarrassed by it. She leaned back to capture the man with a kiss, wanting him desperately. There was with such a lonesome ache in her heart, a sorrow that had never healed. He felt his eyes tear up in pain for her.
“Harry, no clairvoyance,” Volkova warned, her green eyes darkening. He quickly stopped, pulling an inch or two away from her, and lowering his eyes in embarrassment. Harry was suddenly dying with curiosity though– he had to learn more. Who was the man Volkova was about to kiss? Where were they? How old had she been? “Are you ready?” she asked. He nodded. They popped up over the sign, already shouting.
“IGNIS CALAMITUS!!”
“DUCK!!!!” Harry added. Fred dodged out of the way in the nick of time. A bolt of magic leapt away from Harry and Volkova, and went red-hot as it traveled down the street. At the same moment, an intersecting net of magic wove across the path of the redness. The red magic went through the net of gold, and flames leapt everywhere. Screaming ensued, as it often does when fireballs appear from rooftops. But the calamity was somewhat less impressive than Harry had expected, certainly less spectacular than the wind one had been. That golden net had had something to do with it, too.
“They’re blocking the calamity spells,” Anna warned. She and Harry climbed over to another roof as Potter heaved for breath. Fred rolled to his feet down the street, spotted Harry again, and went inside the joke shop. George appeared at the door, and Fred reappeared. In tandem, they rushed to the rescue.
“We need to be on the other side of the street,” Harry gasped, pointing.
“Time for a new spell, dear. You’d better close your eyes,” she warned, pulling him not forward but back as far as the flat roof would allow.
“You’re not,” Harry laughed nervously. A robed figure was already up on the roof at the end of their block, coming towards them. “We can’t make that,” he protesting, pointing forward.
“Can’t we?”
“I can’t.”
Volkova tugged Harry against her side.
“With me, you will. Close your eyes,” she said again, “and don’t look down.”
Volkova surged forward, whispering ,’pinnapinnapinnapinnapinna,’ under her breath. Harry ran with her, closing his eyes at the last second. He felt Volkova pull him over into mid-air, and he screamed out loudly.
“Arachneme!” Anna called. She hit the wall and stuck with her free hand and both knees. Harry dangled from their combined grip. He opened his eyes, and found himself twenty feet off the ground. His natural reaction was to scream again, because he was sure Volkova was going to rip his arm from the socket. Bolts of energy spattered the wall around him as he swung back and forth.
“Arachneme,” Harry groaned. He reached for the wall and began to scurry up after Volkova. A quick look downwards told him that Fred and George were trying to pick off any of the Death Eaters they could get their hands on. Harry and Volkova scaled over the ledge, and he sat heaving for breath as she bounced her head up over once, and again quickly. She was counting how many Death Eaters were left.
“You’re mad, you know that, don’t you?” Harry told her. She smiled as if he had flattered her, and pushed a scraped, bloody hand over her forehead. He peered up over the wall with her. Six figures in dark robes were walking around down below. Two had been picked off by the Weasley twins, who were dodging angry bolts from the others.
“Mr. Goyle, what does your father do for a living?” Volkova was murmuring, drying her face with the end of her muffler. She ruffled through Harry’s clothes and pulled out the brown paper that had been wrapped around the book. “‘Well, ma’am, he’s a maniac who hunts small children.’ I’d know that slouching, knuckle-dragging body type anywhere.”
Harry darted a look over the roof again. One of the figures was walking up the wall. Fred and George were having to withdraw, but not for long.
“They know your climbing spell. Now what?” he asked. Anna whipped the brown paper around, and expanded its form with a burst of white magic. It multiplied in size at least four times, once for each whip through the air. Harry watched, eyes bulging, as Volkova rolled the paper out cylindrically with her good hand and their combined hand, and expanded it again. The white-hot paper dulled to dark brown once more.
“How far did you get in that sword training?” she asked, tapping the completely solid staff of wood to the stones. “I’m sure I’ve got a couple paperclips in my pocket.”
“Not very far,” he admitted. “What did you? How did you? What is that?” he asked, pointing to her creation. “What the hell are you planning to do with the paperclips?”
“Remember my shifting sand blade?” Anna asked. Harry nodded. “It’s a similar transfiguration spell,” she revealed. “Basic is as far as I got. Transfigurations was never my strong suit. I concentrated on other subjects.”
“Like what?” Harry asked.
“Let’s just say I had a well-worn copy of the Blunt Objects book at your age, hm?”
She was undoubtedly excited and happy. So, she was clearly insane, Harry decided. She was here to protect him, and she was perfectly crazy. Yeah, that was usually the way things went for Harry. Figures were climbing up over the roof, faces hidden behind masks, but very recognizable by their bodies. Crabbe walked by Goyle, and the skinniest of them had to be Bellatrix. Harry could feel it in his bones. There was no way he and Volkova could handle them all. He didn’t care how many paperclips she had in her pocket.
“Wand at the ready?” Anna asked. A spell jet flew at them, and she bounced it off the end of her staff. Basic transfiguration spell? Who was she kidding? They’d never done anything like that in McGonagall’s class. Harry would have remembered it, to be sure.
“Ignis!” Harry shouted, pointing his wand. Sparks belched backwards out from his wand, signing his fingertips. He growled in pain but held on. Anna batted away another spell, urging Harry towards the next roof. The robed figures followed, some hanging back, others coming forward. They were spread out in a semi circle that was trying to close around Potter and Volkova.
“Ignis!” Harry shouted again. This time he got lucky. The fire went forwards instead of backwards. Of course, if he had added ‘calamitus’ it might have helped. No matter. One of the robed figures burst into flames. Unfortunately, it was not one that he recognized. Still it was rather satisfying to hear the screaming and watch the fireball and figure fall over the side of the building. At least they didn’t try to block the spell with another golden net.
“Nice shot!”
That had been Fred again. He and George were climbing up onto the roof. They aimed their wands at another Death Eater, and sent a flurry of live chickens at the robed figure. Amid the clucking and screaming, white feathers filled the air.
Volkova tapped the staff to the roof, and the staff began to shake. Was her spell concentration wavering? Harry hit his knees, and pointed his wand at the closest figure.
“Aqua calamitus!” His spell rushed forth like a heavy blue wave, throwing another of the remaining attackers against the far ledge of the roof.
“Three houses down?” Anna asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
Volkova dodged another spell, sending it bouncing off the staff and back at the figures. It encased two victims in ice, Crabbe and Goyle. Harry pulled backwards, and Anna followed. They crossed one roof, and another, using the desperate scampering of cornered animals. There were noises below in the street. It sounded suspiciously like someone breaking down his back door from the inside of the house.
“One roof to go. Are you up to it?” Anna asked.
“Surrender yourselves!! The block is surrounded!” someone shouted from below on the street.
“Was that Hagrid?” Harry asked. Volkova perked up.
“Sounded like him to me,” she replied.
“Don’t worry, Baby Potter,” cooed the last figure as she stepped closer. It was most definitely Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry recognized her cold eyes through her mask.
“Ignis calamitus!” Harry shouted, pointing his wand at her. Bellatrix deflected the spell aside, and it collided with Volkova’s staff. Anna was visibly annoyed by the development when the staff reverted to a large sheet of paper that went up in a puff of flames.
“Keep moving, Harry,” Volkova fussed.
“We’re against the wall,” Harry warned.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Baby Potter,” Bellatrix chuckled, stalking closer. Harry felt a sudden, distinct emotion radiating off of Volkova– pure hatred. “The Dark Lord and I can entertain both you and your new friend.”
Volkova hissed words in Latin at Bellatrix, and Lestrange’s demeanor changed from amused to shocked.
“There’s no need to be uncivilized,” Bellatrix laughed uncomfortably. Volkova dug a hand in her pocket and withdrew five paperclips. Harry watched in horror as she cast them into the air at Lestrange. Right before Bellatrix was going to laugh, the paperclips unfurled into long, sharp scissors. It took a quick twist of the waist to avoid getting both eyes gouged out. As it was, Bellatrix was grazed across the shoulder as the scissors danced past her, skipping across the surface of the rooftop, scattering sparks in their wakes.
“Have you ever heard of the Flying Fellini Brothers?” Anna asked Harry, pulling him up onto the ledge with her.
“We’ll fall like rocks,” Harry hissed, glancing down at the roof they wanted, fifteen feet below the one they were on. “What are you doing?” he asked as Volkova surrounded him with her arms, bending his hand and arm behind him because of their connected hands. Fred and George were running full speed for them, scared and pale white.
“Don’t let go,” she mused. “Pinnapinnapinnapinna,” she whispered as she tugged, kicking Harry’s feet away because she knew he wouldn’t jump on his own.
The fall was less than graceful. They floated for almost a second, but plummeted too fast. Harry lost his glasses. Bolts of magic whizzed by them as they fell. Harry expected a nasty sudden stop, and instead he heard Volkova shouting.
“Distortio!”
The roof below them didn’t part in time. Harry curled up. Volkova screamed out as she snapped her foot backwards against the opening stones. A large purple something below them came into focus as they landed on it. Harry couldn’t believe it– they had landed in his bedroom, on his bed? Anna moaned in agony as he rolled awkwardly over her, all knees and elbows. She steadied him and pushed him upwards off of herself, and not without a dark glance of annoyance. They had managed to land in the near-middle of his bed. Unbelievable! Now where were his glasses, Harry wondered as he was glancing around. The room hadn’t been left in this kind of mess. Pillows from the bed had bounced everywhere. Clothes that had been neatly piled on the end of the bed were now scattered around the room.
“EJ846 EZ>,” Volkova was groaning, rocking back and forth. It sounded like she was repeating something vaguely Asian – souki sin. What was she saying? Harry sat up, touching her shoulder.AN 4
“Are you all right?” he worried.
“Peachy,” she grunted, clutching her left leg.
Harry squinted at the ceiling. His glasses were stuck in the re-closed stones, dangling by one ear hook. He laid back down next to Volkova, realizing how very close a call it had really been.
“We can floo back to the school from downstairs,” Harry said. She continued muttering ‘souki sin’ to herself. The sound of heavy feet on the stairs brought Harry into a defensive position.
“There you are, Mr. Potter. I see Professor Volkova kept a close watch on you. Let’s get you both back to Hogwarts,” Professor Dumbledore said as he and Hagrid emerged from the staircase into Harry’s bedroom. Hagrid yanked Harry off the bed and gave him a crushing hug, dragging Volkova upright in the process.
"Ow," Volkova whimpered, going pale.
“My, what an interesting evening you’ve had,” Headmaster Dumbledore smiled, watching Harry pace frantically at the end of his tether with Volkova. Potter had crossed a particular tile about a hundred times in the ten minutes they’d been back at the school. Hagrid was balancing Volkova upright with one hand on her free arm. Fred and George had accompanied them. Fred was carrying a black robe, and George was trying to get his hands on it.
“Lestrange vanished, but I got her cloak,” Weasley grinned, dangling it at Harry.
“They’ve got Severus! We have to go back,” Harry insisted.
”Relax, Harry. Professor Snape is fine. He’s in the infirmary, which is where you’re going to take Professor Volkova. She’s clearly in distress,” Dumbledore said, taking the robe from Fred.
"If you'd just let me carry you, this would be a lot easier," Hagrid gruffed. Volkova went a scalded sort of angry that was funny to see on someone usually so reserved.
“You are not going to carry me. I’m fine,” Anna protested, limping along. “Your foot is swelling,” Harry pointed out. “What is this?” Dumbledore asked, taking hold of the junction of Harry and Anna’s
mutual hand. “Lentus Rapidus. I’m sorry, sir. There was no other choice,” Volkova stammered. “That’s definitely going to require a trip to the hospital wing. Professor McGonagall is
waiting for you.” “That’s gonna hurt,” George commented. Fred winced, shaking his head. “Aye, that it will,” Hagrid agreed. Harry and Volkova entered the hospital wing in a tangle of steps, because Harry was
running but Volkova was limping stoicly. Hagrid balanced her up as well as he could. “Where is he?” Harry asked of McGonagall. He clearly didn’t have to say who. Minerva
pointed to a far bed, which was covered with a long black form. Harry ran that direction as
Anna tugged hard on his arm. “What is this?” McGonagall asked, goggling at their joined limb. “Lentus Rapidus,” Volkova explained. “Oh dear,” Minerva tisked, straightening her glasses. Harry reached Snape’s bed, pulling the screen aside. The Potions Master lay on his
back with one arm folded over his face. Severus opened one eye, and was on his feet at
once. He wrapped both arms around Harry and tugged him close, smothering him with
whispers and words, ignoring Volkova entirely until she gave Harry’s arm an impatient tug. Hagrid was clearly fighting a deep-chested laugh. “I thought they had you,” Harry cried, putting his face in Snape’s shoulder. “In spite of being hit with a Profundus Confundus, he reached your house and flooed
to the school to warn the Headmaster. I glued him to the bed until I could make sure he wasn’t
hurt. The Headmaster flooed back to your house, where he found you,” Minerva explained. “Harry. My Harry. You are never leaving the school again. Ever,” Snape babbled,
crushing Harry to himself and holding tight. "That's enough of that," Hagrid gruffed again, tugging Harry upright. “Will you please stop mauling the boy?” Volkova asked stiffly. “What is this?” Snape asked, putting a hand over their joined one. “Lentus Rapidus on
human tissue? Are you completely mad?” “We can debate the topic of insanity as you separate us,” Anna growled. “He’s all scratched up. Bruised. Bleeding,” Snape complained, studying Harry head
to toe. Harry appeared to have been dropped in a bin with boulders and tumbled around for
several minutes. “Did you drag him through a brick wall?” “No. But we went up and down several,” Harry almost laughed. Severus stroked
Harry’s locks, cupped his neck, and pressed his cheek to Harry’s forehead. Minerva frowned
her annoyance, and physically pulled Snape and Harry apart. “Severus! Try to concentrate. You need to get them unjoined.” “Yes, I know!” he barked at McGonagall. “I’ll need several potions from my workroom.
You have to release me from this bed.” “Make a list, and I’ll get what you need from the workroom. You’re staying in that bed
until morning.” "He fainted in the Great Hall," Hagrid said to Harry. "Blood pressure through the roof." "Are you sure you're all right?" Harry asked Severus. "I did not faint. I tripped. I’ll need...I’ll need....I can’t think,” Snape shivered, pulling Harry back into his arms. “I
was so worried about you.” Harry laughed softly, a giddy, happy sound. Only Mrs. Weasley had ever fussed over
Harry in such a fashion. He was very touched. He stumbled, closing his eyes and sitting
down on the floor in front of the bed. Volkova fell forward, nearly landing in Snape’s lap as
well. She steadied herself awkwardly. Hagrid stood closer to Harry, messing up his hair with a dart of a hand. "Quit your fussin'. He's fine. A bit out of breath, that's all. Right, Harry?" “Mr. Potter, get off that cold floor. Sit on the bed,” McGonagall chided. “Severus,
perhaps you should check out what Madam Pomfrey has in stock before you have me
running up and down the steps to the dungeon,” she suggested to Snape. “Professor Volkova
is going to need your help as well, very urgently.” “Oh, no. I’m fine,” Anna insisted. But she was beginning to look clammy and cold. “Sit,” McGonagall ordered. Harry and Anna sat on Snape’s right side, Harry between
the two adults. Hagrid stood behind McGonagall, laughing to himself as he watched the Potions Master. For his part, Snape was avoiding the giant's knowing grin. “Is the crunchy part in the Flying Fellini Brothers’ act?” Harry asked Volkova. “No,” Volkova laughed, avoiding looking down at her ankle. She was obviously in
growing pain. Her boot was tight on her foot, which had swollen tremendously. “I landed on her,” Harry explained. “We landed on my bed! She opened the roof! You
should have seen it!” “How much actual medical training do you have?” Volkova asked Snape, finally
centering her eyes on her ankle. She gulped loudly. “How much pain are you in?” Snape asked, smiling slightly. “Did you remove the Confundus spell entirely?” Anna asked McGonagall. “Not to worry. He tried to get away from me several times. But I got the whole spell off
him before glueing him where he sits.” “I’ll have you both good as new by morning,” Severus promised, “if you’ll release me
from this bed,” he added, glaring at McGonagall. “Her first,” McGonagall insisted. “Her first,” Harry agreed.
"Think I'll make us all a spot of tea," Hagrid said. "This is going to take some time."
>Author's Note 3: Latin: "Fire, wind, water or earth."
>Author's Note 4: Russian: bitch's son (son of a bitch)
copyright ©2004 Polliwog Press