Chapter 8 - All the Kings Men
Harry went with Ron and Hermione to Honeydukes the following weekend, dressed in some of the more casual clothing Snape had bought him. Nevertheless both Ron and Hermione commented on the outfit, Hermione telling him he looked quite nice. Ron just made gagging noises at the thought of Snape buying Harry anything. Harry endured it all with little comment. He and Snape had an unspoken agreement not to bring the subject up again.
As they walked the path toward Hogsmeade, Harry talked about his last letter from Sirius and the promise the man had made him to come visit as soon as possible. "I'm hoping he'll be here this weekend," Harry told them.
"Isn't it dangerous for him to come back here," Hermione protested.
"Not if he stays out of sight," Harry replied. "He's already doing work for Dumbledore as it is, and needs to report in occasionally. And the Ministry still doesn't know anything about Snuffles. Sometimes I think he prefers that form."
"Think he'll hurt Snape when he gets here?" Ron asked hopefully.
Harry just shook his head. "You keep forgetting the fact that none of this was Snape's fault. He only married me to protect me. And it's not like he's done anything to hurt me since then. Sirius might not be happy about things, but Snape hasn't done anything wrong either." He was amused by how disappointed Ron looked at the thought.
"You don't actually want Snape to do something wrong do you?" Hermione asked the redhead.
"No, of course not!" Ron assured them both, and they both laughed at the look of dismay on his face.
"Don't worry, Ron," Harry assured him. "I'm sure sooner or later Snape will say something that will set Sirius off, and you can watch the two of them fight."
"You think so?" Ron's eyes lit up at the thought.
"When did you get so blood thirsty?" Hermione sighed. "Boys!" She shook her head in disgust.
They spent a few hours at Honeydukes, and then later at the local pub, all of them joking around with some of their classmates and enjoying a game of Exploding Snaps. Afterwards they wandered up and down the streets of the village looking into various shop. Harry stopped to admire a gleaming sword he saw in a shop window while Hermione dragged Ron across the street to look into a bookstore. Harry smiled, listening to Ron complaining the entire way. He also noted that Ron didn't refuse to go with Hermione however. Said a lot for Ron to abandon a display of weapons to go look at books.
Laughing to himself, Harry decided to give the two of them a few moments alone and he turned his attention back to the sword in the shop window. It reminded him faintly of Godric Gryffindor's sword that he'd used to kill the Basilisk during his second year of school. That seemed almost a lifetime ago now.
Movement inside the shop caught his attention, and he looked up, peering through the window. Several men were inside, talking to the store proprietor. It took Harry a moment to realize he knew one of them. Alphedor Carlton. A Death Eater. He'd met the man during one of Voldemort's attacks last year. And here he was now, with a group of other men, buying weapons of some sort.
Just as he started to back away, one of the men in the shop glanced up toward the window and spotted him there. A shout when up. Harry turned and ran, eyes scanning for cover. He didn't think he could make it into the bookstore in time.
The door burst open and he heard the first curse shouted, shooting past his head as he ducked and dove toward a large rain barrel in front of the bookstore walkway. Even as he dove he felt something slamming into him, vaguely aware of a sharp pain. Then he was rolling to his knees, turning, wand raised in his right hand. Oddly enough his right hand wasn't moving properly, and he couldn't for a moment understand why he couldn't lift it all the way.
The protruding fletch of feathers from the crossbow arrow sticking out of his right shoulder probably had something to do with it he guessed, and he spared a brief moment to wonder why he couldn't feel more pain.
More curses were coming now, and he heard screams on the street as other people dove out of the way, getting caught in the hail of curses. Transferring his wand to his left hand, Harry shouted back his own curses at the advancing men. From behind him, he heard a couple of more curses aimed toward the Death Eaters as Ron and Hermione crouched behind the door of the bookstore and attempted to come to his aid.
The Death Eaters, six of them Harry could see now, dove for the cover of the large stone planters lining the walkway in front of the weapon's store. One of them lobbed off another arrow in Harry's direction. This one caught him low on the left leg tearing all the way through the muscle and protruding out the other side. Harry tried to draw himself more completely behind the barrel. It really wasn't much cover. The permanent fixtures along the street had spells worked into their foundations to protect them from attacks. But the barrel - another shouted curse from one of the Death Eaters and it wasn't any cover at all - exploded in a shower of splinters that left Harry open to attack.
He threw a shielding spell, blocking several more curses as he attempted to dive toward the door of the bookstore. His leg didn't want to work properly and he could feel his shielding spell weakening as several more curses struck it. Then Hermione was shouting again, sending out several curses while Ron reached out from the door and caught hold of Harry's shoulders dragging him inside behind the door. Before Harry could thank his friend, a spell struck Ron directly in the chest, sending him flying back several feet to lie unmoving on the ground.
Harry turned, wand raised again, returning fire. He could see several people lying unmoving on the street. Dead he suspected. One had a crossbow bolt through his chest. Two others looked as if they'd been hit by curses that had skinned them alive. One had the blank look of a man hit by the killing curse.
The six Death Eaters were safely barricaded behind the stone planter wall in front of the weapons store, and Harry couldn't get a clear shot to any of them. He could see a dozen other people cowering on the street, hiding behind carts and flower pots. Three Hogwarts students were cowering down behind a display of cauldrons not far from the weapons store. If one of the Death Eaters moved just slightly further forward, the students would be open to attack. Harry had no doubt they would be killed.
An idea struck him. "Hermione?" Pain flared through his entire body as he turned to catch the girl's attention. Her eyes were wide in terror. "Can you do an illusion for me?" he asked. "Someone running out of the store, down the street toward that tea shop over there?"
Hermione nodded. "When?"
"Now would be good," he told her. He braced himself against the doorframe, wand clutched tightly in his left hand. His entire right arm was going numb.
Hermione threw the spell, and Harry saw the figure of a dark-haired boy with glasses running out of the shop and down toward the tea store. Instantly three of the Death Eaters surged forward to curse him, opening themselves up for a clear shot.
Harry picked the one in the back, aimed his wand and whispered the words of his spell, feeling power rush out of him as the spell struck the man in question. It wasn't the Imperious - he doubted he had the strength to throw something that powerful. But it was a precursor to it - something he and Hermione had discovered last year during their History of Magic class. An old spell called King's Voice, not as strong or as potent as the Imperious, not illegal either since most people had long ago forgotten it even existed. It had too many flaws in it to be of interest to the Death Eaters who would opt to use the Imperious instead. For one thing it was temporary, and it required a continuous line of sight to maintain. But Harry hoped it would be enough.
"Stop them," he whispered into the midst of his spell, weaving the words together and sending them toward the Death Eater he'd struck.
The man immediately turned, eyes blank, and shot curses toward the unprotected backs of his comrades in front of him. Two of them went down immediately, before one of the others blasted the man who'd been caught by Harry's spell, breaking the bonds and sending all that energy flashing back into Harry's bleeding body. Harry slumped weakly down on the floor, not certain he could muster enough energy to move again.
Then he heard another curse hit the door only a few feet from his head. The crackling of flames caught his attention. Horror flooded him as he realized that the Death Eaters had lit the bookstore on fire.
"Hermione!" he yelled. "Get Ron out the back door!"
"I'm not leaving you here!" she protested.
"He'll die!" Harry insisted. "He's helpless. I'll hold them off. Go!"
New strength came with his determination to save his friends, and he turned to throw a few more weak curses while Hermione, realizing that Harry was indeed right, and Ron was helpless, levitated Ron with a spell and began moving him out the back door.
As she left, Harry was vaguely aware of several other people going with her, scrambling toward the door while he put up covering fire for them to escape. He couldn't help wondering bitterly how many full-grown adult wizards had been hiding behind him while three sixth-year students from Hogwarts had fought off the Death Eaters.
It was growing hot by the door and Harry tried to back away from the rising flames, only to realize that his leg refused to move any longer. The books in the front display window were catching fire swiftly, and Harry knew it was just a matter of minutes before the entire building was an inferno. He tried to throw another curse back out through the doorway, but found to his horror that his left hand this time would no longer move. Baffled he stared blankly down at his arm. A sharp splitter of wood was sticking out of his left bicep and he wondered when he'd gotten that. Couldn't remember, though he supposed it must have happened when the barrel had exploded.
It occurred to him briefly that it was highly likely he was going to die, going to burn to death in the bookstore, or failing that be hit with a killing curse as he could no longer run. And then across the street, he heard familiar voices shouting, heard the distinctive crack of several people apparating to the scene. A glance through the fire showed him Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape catching the remaining three Death Eaters by surprise, wrapping them up in binding spells even as Aurors swarmed toward them.
And as Harry slumped down onto the floor, blood seeping from the many wounds on his body, he saw his two rescuers advancing on the bookstore, wands pointed toward the flames which any minute now would be licking at his skin. Blessed coolness washed over him, and he felt his wand drop from his numb fingers. He had a moment to think musingly that his bond-mate looked quite impressive when he was angry, and then the world began to grow gray and fuzzy.
Severus had been at lunch in the Great Hall brooding about Harry's strange behavior for the better part of an hour - he'd actually been brooding about it for several days, though he was careful not to point this fact out to himself. He still wasn't certain what that conversation about the clothing had been all about. That he'd said something that had obviously hurt and angered Harry was apparent, though for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it had been. Anger Harry could apparently handle just fine - he'd seen the boy's fist clench as if to hit him. But apparently anger coupled with hurt was unmanageable, which he suspected was why Harry had locked himself in the library.
But what he'd done still remained a mystery to him. Once Harry had gotten over the pride issue about paying for his own things, he had actually rather hoped he'd appreciate the clothing. Certainly Severus had wanted him to enjoy them. But apparently he'd completely missed something, and the last thing he had wanted to do was hurt Harry. Far as he could tell, Harry had been hurt by the people who were supposed to take care of him quite enough. He didn't need any more pain.
And then not ten minutes later in the bedroom Harry had completely confused him again when he'd given him the response he'd been hoping to get in the first place, as if nothing of the previous conversation had happened at all. If he ever figured out the convoluted mind of Harry Potter it would be a miracle. In the mean while he supposed he'd have to settle for rampant insanity.
Still lost in thought he was distracted when the Dark Mark on his arm began to tingle faintly. He frowned, touching the silver wire through the sleeve of his robes. Albus' spell prevented any pain from touching him, but he could still sense the activation of the mark. It wasn't precisely a summons he realized. Felt more like a small gathering of other Death Eaters. Nearby from the feel of it.
Alarmed, he looked up, scanning the Great Hall for a familiar face. The Gryffindor table had many empty seats. Ron, Hermione and Harry were gone, along with a number of other students to Hogsmeade.
"Albus!" he said sharply. Dumbledore looked up in alarm. "We've got to find Harry."
He saw Dumbledore and several other teachers turn toward the Gryffindor table. "He's gone to Hogsmeade," Minerva explained to all of them.
Severus didn't wait to hear more, heading swiftly toward the door. Behind him he heard Madame Hooch offering to summon the Aurors while Albus followed swiftly behind Severus.
Summoning brooms, the two of them flew off Hogwarts grounds, heading swiftly toward Hogsmeade. As they approached the small village, Severus noticed smoke rising from the center of the village. Cursing he flew lower, diving toward the source of the fire. As he neared he could see the battle waging in the street, bodies lying scattered about on the cobblestones. It took a moment for him to figure out who was where - that was Harry trapped inside the burning bookstore!
He crashed through a side window of the weapons shop where the Death Eaters were barricaded, Albus right behind him, coming up behind the men. Three down already, the others turned toward the sound of breaking glass. Severus and Albus had them trusted up inside binding spells in a matter of seconds. Outside he could hear the arrival of Aurors, and then he was running toward the burning bookstore. Through the partially opened doorway he could see Harry, covered in blood, slumped on the floor, flames drawing ever closer to him. He pointed his wand at the flames and shouted an extinguishing spell. He felt Albus' power joining his, containing the fire, pulling it back in and extinguishing it entirely.
Severus shoved opened the scorched door and dropped to his knees beside Harry, his heart moving to his throat as he stared at the damage done. Arrows in the right shoulder and left leg, numerous cuts bleeding profusely, a large chunk of wood embedded in his left bicep. His shirt was nearly soaked in blood, and with trembling hands Severus cast a spell to stop the bleeding before he bled himself dry.
"Harry?" he called, pulling the boy into his arms, trying hard not to jostle the wounds too severely. He tapped lightly at Harry's face, trying to see if he was suffering from a curse or just passed out from pain or blood loss.
Harry moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. "Snape?" he whispered, blood on his lips. His glasses were broken and Snape removed them, stuffing them in his robes along with Harry's wand. "Ron, Hermione?"
Understanding what he was asking, Snape glanced swiftly around. Just outside the door he could see Albus with Hermione. The headmaster was busy reviving Weasley from some sort of spell. Both looked unhurt.
"They're alright," he assured Harry. Pain flickered across Harry's face and Snape quickly performed a pain numbing charm, cursing himself for not thinking of that immediately.
Some of the strain eased from Harry's face and he looked weakly up at him, eyes unfocused. "Sorry," he whispered softly.
"For what?" Severus asked disbelieving. Surely the boy didn't think the attack was his fault.
"Killed them," Harry explained. "More dead." It occurred to Snape suddenly that of the six Death Eaters he'd seen, three of them had already been dead. He felt his chest tightening in sympathy for the boy. This was the last thing he needed.
"Rest, Harry," he urged gently. "I'll get you back to the castle."
Harry slumped against him, saying nothing as Severus lifted him up into his arms and carried him out of the scorched bookstore.
"Harry!" Ron and Hermione exclaimed when they saw them. Ron's eyes were wide in terror. "Is he . . .?"
"He's alive," Severus assured them both. He looked at Albus. "But we need to get him to Poppy immediately."
"There's a floo in the Three Broomsticks," Albus told him. "We can floo directly to the hospital wing."
Nodding, Severus carried Harry swiftly down the street, flanked by Albus, Hermione and Ron. The crowd of onlookers who'd come out once the Aurors had shown up moved swiftly side. Severus shot them all his most withering glare. There were a dozen fully qualified wizards and witches in the crowd of sightseers, and yet the only one he'd seen casting spells had been Harry.
The proprietor of Broomsticks was waiting for them, door thrown open for all of them. Inside was a crowd of other Hogwarts students who surged forward with concern at the sight of the bloodied Harry Potter in the arms of their Potions Master. Albus immediately calmed them, ordering them to head straight back to the castle, and to gather up any of their classmates along the way. Then the Headmaster activated the floo and allowed Severus to floo straight into the hospital wing. Ron and Hermione quickly followed.
Poppy came running when Severus yelled for her, her eyes widening when she saw the body he carried. As Severus set Harry down on one of the hospital beds, she drew a curtain around his bed and then began to work on him, her face regaining a professional calmness. Between the two of them they got the boy stripped of most of his bloody clothes, a spell removed the majority of the splintered wood embedded in his skin, including the horrid looking chunk that had pierced his bicep. But a quick exam of the two crossbow arrows revealed a minor charm on both of them. Only one way to take them out.
"Hold him, Severus," Poppy ordered. Severus nodded, moving to hold the boy down. "The arrow is embedded in his shoulder blade. I can't drive it all the way through. It's going to have to come out the hard way."
Severus felt himself blanch at the thought. "Do it," Severus ordered grimly. Poppy grabbed hold of the arrow shaft with a pair of Muggle pliers and pulled while Severus held Harry immobile. Despite the pain-blocking spells, Harry screamed as the bolt ripped free. The sound was like a knife through Severus heart. The boy went limp, passed out again from the pain.
The bolt in his leg was easier to manage. It had gone all the way through and Poppy was able to first snip off the barbed end of the arrow before pulling the shaft out of his flesh. When she finished, both their hands were covered in blood. Behind them, Snape heard Hermione crying softly against Ron Weasley's shoulder.
With Severus' help, Poppy got several potions down Harry's throat. The boy choked and sputtered on the taste of several of them, and Severus found himself gently stroking his throat trying to get him to swallow it all. "Come on, Harry," he whispered softly. "Just a few more drinks." He wasn't certain if the boy even heard him, but it seemed to help and so he kept it up, whispering encouragement to him.
With the potions out of the way Poppy set about closing the wounds themselves, using her considerable skill to begin mending his flesh back together. When she was through Harry was nearly whole again. The three larger wounds would take several more sessions to heal. But she bandaged them up neatly, and the two of them set about cleaning him up and getting him dressed in a pair of hospital pajamas before tucking him back in to sleep. He didn't regain consciousness again.
When Severus finally found himself with nothing to do but sit at Harry's bedside, he glanced around to realize that aside from Granger and Weasley, Albus, Minerva and Constable Terrence Lowry from the Ministry Auror division had joined them.
"How is he, Poppy?" Albus asked in concern when Poppy drew aside the curtain she'd placed around the boy's bed, something Severus was grateful for. He didn't like to think that all these people had been watching Harry suffer, despite the fact that he knew most of them loved the boy. Harry hated to show weakness to anyone.
"He'll live, Headmaster," Madam Pomfrey informed them all. Both Ron and Hermione nearly wilted in relief.
Now that the danger had passed, Severus felt anger returning. "What happened?" he demanded of Granger, Weasley and the Auror standing beside them. "I only saw six Death Eaters. There were dozens of fully trained wizards and witches all over Hogsmeade. Why wasn't anyone else helping Harry?" He also vaguely recalled seeing several seventh years hiding behind a cluster of cauldrons as well - if they had looked up for a second they could have seen a clear shot at any of the Death Eaters.
"Now, now, Severus," Minerva chided. "You can't blame them. Most people are too afraid of standing up to the Death Eaters."
"Besides," the constable argued. "Civilians aren't trained for that sort of thing. Most people panic in an attack."
"Harry didn't!"
"Not a civilian now, is he?" the man answered with a shrug.
"He's sixteen!"
"He's Harry Potter," the man explained as if that was all that was necessary.
Hermione interrupted before Severus could say something more scathing. "It all happened too fast, sir," she explained. "No one knew what was going on. One minute everything was fine and the next thing we knew curses were flying through the streets. Along with arrows. People just ran in every direction."
"What happened then?" Albus asked gently.
Shivering with the memory, Hermione recounted what she could of the events that followed, Ron supplying comments of his own. Snape's estimation of both the young Gryffindors went up considerably when he realized that these two at least had not abandoned Harry. Both had risked their lives for him, had joined him in the battle. Three sixth-years against Death Eaters when there were a dozen others more capable.
"The three Death Eaters, how did they die?" Severus asked them, remembering what Harry had said about killing them.
"The killing curse," the constable explained. "All three of them were hit with it."
Snape felt the blood drain from his face. He knew Harry knew the curse, but he hadn't been aware that the boy had ever actually used it. Not to mention it required a great deal of power to throw - didn't seem likely that Harry would have had the strength to throw it considering how badly he'd been wounded. Especially not three times.
"Not that we would hold that against the boy," the constable assured them all quickly. "It was self-defense of course. And he's Harry Potter after all." Still, they all knew this would result in an inquiry. Any use of the Unforgivables resulted in an inquiry, and Severus hated to think what hell that would drag Harry through.
"Harry didn't use the killing curse," Hermione told them insistently. "They used it on each other."
On each other? The Imperious then?
"He used the Imperious?" Albus asked, thinking along the same lines.
But Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry doesn't like the Unforgivables. He wouldn't use them. He used the King's Voice. Vocis Regalis."
Severus frowned, glancing at the Headmaster. He'd never heard of the King's Voice.
"We found it last year," she explained. "We were reading The Evolution of Charms and Curses in history class. It mentioned that most modern charms and curses came from older, less powerful ones. We got curious and did some extra research. The King's Voice was the precursor to the Imperious. But it hasn't been used in centuries- it's not nearly as powerful as the Imperious which replaced it. It's only temporary, and it requires line of sight to maintain. But it worked." She glanced at the constable who was frowning thoughtfully. "And because it's so old and out of date, it's also not illegal. It's not on the books anywhere."
The man just smiled and shook his head. "Good," he said with satisfaction. "With the election coming up I'd hate to be the one to tell Fudge he has to put Harry Potter through an Official Inquiry." He nodded politely to Albus. "Well, since that's taken care of, I had best go make my report." He nodded to Severus as well. "My best to your bond-mate, sir. I hope he's better soon." And then the man strode out of the room.
Severus pulled a chair over to Harry's bed side and slumped down into. "If Harry doesn't get himself killed, idiots like that are going to," Severus complained to Albus.
Albus just smiled sadly. "We'll just have to make certain that doesn't happen, my boy." He turned toward Ron and Hermione. "Now you two should go get cleaned up and assure your housemates that Harry is fine. No doubt all sorts of rumors have already made their way around the castle a dozen times."
"Can we come back and sit with Harry?" Ron asked, looking hopefully over at Madam Pomfrey.
"I'll stay with him," Severus informed them.
"You can come see him briefly after dinner," Madam Pomfrey told Ron and Hermione. "But I want the boy to sleep. He's exhausted, and he lost a lot of blood. He needs rest."
Subdued the two of them nodded and left the hospital wing with Minerva following.
"Will you be alright, Severus?" Albus asked quietly after Poppy had returned to her own office.
"They left the battle to three underage wizards, Albus," he stated flatly. "And they have the gall to wonder how people like Voldemort rise to power. He doesn't have to do anything but show up and they cower in terror. What kind of world do we live in?"
"We live in the kind of world where three underage wizards are willing to die to save the lives of those around them," Albus said gently. "That's rather a wonderful world if you ask me, filled with truly amazing people."
Despite everything Severus felt his lip twitch in amusement. "That's such a Gryffindor thing to say," he sighed.
"How Slytherin of you to notice, Severus," Albus agreed, then patting him gently on the shoulder he left the room, leaving Severus alone with Harry.
Severus leaned over the bed, reaching out to brush some tangled locks of hair of away from Harry's face. The scar on his forehead looked red and angry and he gently traced it with his fingers. He ached inside, something deep and painful and inexplicable. And he couldn't for the life of him understand it. It wasn't the panic he supposed the mindless masses might feel if they thought their hero was gone. And it wasn't the realization that he might have lost the one person who could keep his family name in good standing.
This was something else, something harder and darker, and it made him sick to his stomach to imagine what Harry must have suffered that day. He didn't have the false expectations of the boy that everyone else did - though he would admit openly that the boy continued to surprise him. But he also didn't like seeing him lying here so helpless and vulnerable. It wasn't right that he should suffer so much. This need to protect him left him lost and flailing about for words to make sense of his feelings. But all he found was turmoil.
"Harry Potter," he said softly, tracing the boy's features slowly with his fingers. "I'm not going to let you sacrifice yourself for this cause." It was a vow. One he intended to keep. He'd made other vows to the young man after all - to join body, name, house and power to his. What was one more?