Harry stepped into St. Mungo's during the morning rush. At the front desk, a frustrated wizard with a purple, steam-emitting ear debated proper potion measurements with the Welcome Witch. The waiting area held its own drama as well. A young witch struggled to control her transformed hair, which had become a mass of aggressive snakes that lunged at nearby patients.
Fresh disinfectant wafted through the air as Harry breathed in. These chaotic scenes had become familiar after his frequent visits throughout recent weeks. He walked past the directory board which displayed its categories in tidy rows: 'Artifact Accidents', 'Creature-Induced Injuries', 'Magical Bugs', 'Spell Damage', and 'Potion and Plant Poisoning'.
"Mr. Potter." Healer Nightshade's voice pierced the commotion. She appeared beside the welcome desk in spotless lime-green robes. A quill floated next to her shoulder, ready to record notes on the hovering clipboard. "Thank you for coming."
Harry met Healer Nightshade's steady gaze. Their last encounter from five weeks ago remained fresh in his mind - her insulting attitude, followed by his demonstration with fear-based Soul Resonance Mist. Since then, her approach had become notably more professional.
They made their way to the lifts while she updated him on the patients. "We've documented every small change in the Longbottoms' condition. Mrs. Longbottom's recent interaction with her son stands out - she offered him two candy wrappers instead of her usual one."
Harry nodded as the lift shuddered upward. "Madam Longbottom had a hopeful look in her eye when she asked me to heal them."
The lift chimed at each floor, announcing departments and specialties. A paper airplane memo zoomed in at the third floor, circled twice around Harry's head, then zipped back out before the doors closed.
"The Janus Thickey Ward has strict visitor protocols," Healer Nightshade explained as they reached the fourth floor. "But Madam Longbottom insisted on being present with young Neville."
Muted colors dominated the hospital ward that extended ahead. The usual commotion from downstairs had no place in this wing, where silence pressed heavily against their ears. Behind the curtained beds, several patients watched them pass. Harry noticed a few familiar faces. He had seen them years ago in the Daily Prophet's war recap - these were the people who remained trapped here long after the battles had ceased.
Augusta Longbottom stood by a door near the end of the ward. The stuffed vulture on her hat loomed over Neville, who clutched something in his hand while staring at the floor. Harry approached them, and then he saw that it was a chocolate frog card - one showing Frank Longbottom in Auror robes, standing proud and tall.
"Mr. Potter." Augusta spoke with unmistakable hope in her voice. "I appreciate your swift arrival after the proceedings."
"Of course." Harry smiled at Neville, who looked up briefly before ducking his head again. He recognized Neville from the yearly gathering at the Ministry he sometimes attended.
Healer Nightshade opened the door. Inside, morning light spilled through enchanted windows onto two beds. Alice Longbottom sat cross-legged on one, folding a piece of parchment into smaller and smaller squares. The movement of her hands never stopped, even as her vacant eyes stared at something no one else could see.
Frank occupied an armchair by the window. A photo on the bedside table showed him in his prime - the same image from Neville's chocolate frog card. The man in the chair bore little resemblance to that picture. His fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the armrest while he mumbled words too quiet to understand.
"Would you like me to stay?" Healer Nightshade asked, quill poised above her clipboard.
Harry glanced at Augusta Longbottom, who gripped her handbag with white knuckles. "That will be your decision, Madam Longbottom."
"Stay," Augusta commanded. "Document everything."
Harry approached Alice first. She was busy making sharp folds in the parchment over and over. As soon as he reached out his hand to touch hers, she stopped her work. Her eyes lifted to meet his. Though she didn't seem to know him, her expression showed that she noticed someone had entered her small world.
The golden light spread from Harry's palm into Alice's body. He could sense the damage immediately. This wasn't like the dark magic or normal injuries he had purged and healed before. The Cruciatus curse had carved paths through her mind, leaving behind a maze of broken connections. The divine energy flowed through these damaged areas but found nowhere to anchor, nothing solid enough to rebuild.
Harry frowned and refined the high-quality faith from Dobby and the low-quality faith from the patients he'd healed into divine energy. The vase of flowers on the windowsill bloomed brighter, and Frank's mumbling quieted. But Alice simply resumed her folding, showing no sign of improvement. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a candy wrapper, offering it to Neville with a vague pat on his hand.
"Come here, Neville," Harry beckoned the boy closer. "Hold your mother's other hand."
Neville shuffled forward, chocolate frog card still clutched in one hand. He took his mother's hand, and Harry channeled more energy through Alice's brain. The halo behind his head brightened slightly as he drew upon the power of virtue to amplify the divine energy. Still, the damage remained untouched.
He tried combining the divine energy with Soul Resonance Mist, hoping to reach through emotions where pure healing failed. The mist curled around Alice in gentle waves, carrying feelings of warmth and safety. She smiled - the first real expression Harry had seen - but the smile faded as quickly as it appeared.
"This isn't working," Harry muttered. He could feel his Hun Soul getting strained as he drew upon more and more divine energy. The quill scratched against Healer Nightshade's clipboard, recording every detail.
Harry moved back, letting his hand fall from Alice's. The golden light faded, leaving behind only the sunbeams shining through the window. He walked over to Frank, but already knew what he would find. The same broken paths, the same damaged connections throughout the brain.
The high-quality faith from Dobby had helped him achieve faster healing before. If he had more faith of that caliber - maybe ten or twenty times more - he might be able to force the divine energy through whatever blocked his healing. But right now? The amount he had access to didn't seem enough at all to even try to heal the missing or damaged portions of their minds.
This wasn't the first time he had failed. Just two weeks ago, a patient needed treatment after losing their eyes to a dark curse. Although he successfully eliminated the curse itself, the missing eyes proved impossible to restore. It had felt like they were too complicated for his divine energy to heal, much like what was happening here.
Harry turned to face Augusta Longbottom. The hope in her eyes made his chest tighten. "I can't heal them." The words came out quiet but clear. "Not yet."
"What do you mean, not yet?" Augusta's voice sharpened. "You've healed cursed patients before. Dark magic that St. Mungo's couldn't touch."
"This is different." Harry gestured at Alice, who had gone back to folding her parchment. "The Cruciatus curse didn't leave behind dark magic I can purge. It..." He paused, but decided to be blunt. "It broke something deep inside their minds. The connections between thoughts, memories, awareness - they're all damaged or missing."
Neville's hand tightened around his chocolate frog card. The Frank Longbottom in the picture smiled and waved, unaware of the heavy silence in the room.
"But you're supposed to be able to heal anything," Neville whispered, speaking for the first time. "Gran said-"
"I'm still learning." Harry met Neville's eyes. "I'm getting stronger and stronger. Maybe in a few… months or years, when I understand more about how my healing works..." He looked back at Augusta. "I promise I'll try again when I'm ready."
Augusta's shoulders dropped, the vulture on her hat seeming to droop with her. "Months. Years." The words came out flat. She pressed her lips together, composing herself. "We've already waited seven years. What's a few more?"
"I understand if you're angry-" Harry started.
"No." Augusta straightened her back. "You tried. That's more than most have done." She placed a hand on Neville's shoulder. "Come along, Neville. Say goodbye to your parents."
Neville shuffled to his mother's bed. Alice looked up from her folded parchment and reached into her pocket. This time she gave him her folded parchment, placing it carefully in Neville's palm. Her fingers brushed his cheek before she went back to her folding.
Frank's mumbling had stopped. He stared out the window, but his hand moved slightly when Neville approached. For a moment, just a moment, his eyes focused on his son.
"I'll keep working on it," Harry promised as they prepared to leave. "The healers have my contact information. When I discover something new-"
"We'll be here." Augusta's voice carried years of resigned patience. "We're always here."
Healer Nightshade closed her clipboard. "I'll escort to your next patient, Mr. Potter."
oo0ooOoo0oo
Several hours later, Harry walked down Place Cachée, the magical shopping district hidden in the heart of Paris. Nicolas and Perenelle had split off toward a different café on the other side from his destination. The autumn breeze carried the scent of fresh-baked croissants from Le Petit Dragon, where he would meet Sirius.
The café's blue awning fluttered above tables protected by warming charms. A charmed bell tinkled as Harry pushed open the door. Inside, the smell of coffee mixed with butter and sugar. Enchanted sugar cubes hopped into cups while spoons stirred themselves.
"Look, it's Harry Potter!" A young witch at a corner table whispered to her friend in French. The whispers spread through the café like ripples in water. "Merlin Reborn! He can heal everything, can't he?"
Harry flinched slightly, but continued walking and soon spotted Sirius at a window table, watching the street outside. His godfather looked better than he had at the Ministry - his hair was neat, and his new robes fit properly. But his eyes still held shadows of the past, and he flinched when a waiter dropped a spoon.
"Harry!" Sirius stood up as Harry approached. He started to reach out, then pulled back uncertainly. "I ordered some pastries. The waiter said they're famous for-"
"Mr. Potter!" The waiter rushed to their table with an excited smile. "What an honor to see you! I apologize, but another party has taken your regular spot. Though I think you'll enjoy this table - it offers a lovely view of the street. Should I bring your usual order?"
Sirius blinked. "You come here often?"
"Sometimes with my guardians." Harry smiled at the waiter. "The usual would be nice, Maurice. And maybe some of those floating éclairs?"
More whispers spread through the café. A small girl tugged on her mother's sleeve, pointing at Harry. Two elderly wizards reading newspapers lowered them just enough to peer over the top.
"Just ignore them," Harry pulled a small brass sphere from his pocket. The metal gleamed under the café lights. "Uncle Nick gave me this. Watch."
He placed the sphere on the table and tapped it twice. A soft hum filled the air around them, and the whispers from nearby tables became muffled, then silent.
"Privacy charm?" Sirius leaned forward to examine the sphere.
"Something like that. Uncle Nick made it himself." Harry relaxed into his chair. "Now we can talk without everyone trying to listen in."
Maurice returned with a tray of pastries that floated an inch above the surface. The éclairs bobbed gently up and down, chocolate glaze shining slightly. He set down the tray, and quickly left to give them privacy.
"The food looks amazing." Sirius picked up an éclair, but his eyes stayed on Harry. "So... the Flamels. You call them Uncle Nick and..."
"Aunt Nelle." Harry reached for a croissant. "They took me in after..." He paused, considering how much to share. "After some things happened at Hogwarts."
"Dumbledore mentioned you lived at the castle first." Sirius took a bite of his éclair, chocolate smearing at the corner of his mouth. "Must have been interesting, growing up there."
"The ghosts told great stories." Harry smiled at the memory. "And Professor McGonagall - I call her Aunt Min - she taught me about my parents. She said my father was brilliant at Transfiguration."
Sirius wiped his mouth with a napkin. "He was. We used to..." His voice caught. He cleared his throat and tried again. "We practiced together almost every night in our sixth year. James wanted to master human transfiguration."
A magical bike zoomed past the window, leaving a trail of rainbow sparkles. Harry watched the colors fade before asking, "What was he like? As a person, I mean."
"Loyal." Sirius answered without hesitation. "He would do anything for his friends. And he loved your mother more than anything. Well, until you came along." He smiled, but the expression held a touch of pain. "The day you were born, he burst into my flat at three in the morning, rambling about how perfect you were."
Harry picked at his croissant. "Aunt Min said he liked pranks."
"Merlin, yes!" Sirius barked out a laugh. "Yes, we were terrible. There was this one time we charmed all the suits of armor to sing Christmas carols in July. Drove Filch mad for weeks."
"Did you get caught?"
"Always. But that was half the fun." Sirius's eyes brightened with the memory. "Your father had this invisibility cloak, but we were too tall to all fit under it by third year. Made sneaking around much harder."
Harry hummed. "What happened to the cloak?"
"I..." Sirius frowned. "I don't know. James had it the night..." He stopped, shoulders tensing.
"It's okay." Harry pushed the plate of pastries closer to Sirius. "Tell me about something else. Like how you became friends?"
Sirius grabbed another éclair, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "First day on the Hogwarts Express. I found him in a compartment alone, practicing color-changing charms on his shoelaces. He looked up at me and said..." He chuckled. "He said 'If you're going to stand there, at least help me figure out how to make them flash different colors.'"
"Did you know the spell?" Harry asked.
"Not a clue. We spent the whole train ride trying different combinations and ended up turning his shoes bright pink." Sirius's eyes crinkled at the edges. "He wore them like that for a week, told everyone it was the latest fashion."
A group of children ran past the window, chasing enchanted paper airplanes. Sirius watched them for a moment, his expression distant. "We were inseparable after that. Your grandmother used to say we were like twins separated at birth."
"What were my grandparents like?"
"Charlus and Dorea?" Sirius's face softened. "They took me in when I ran away from home at sixteen. Treated me like a second son." He tapped his fingers against his coffee cup. "Your grandfather made this awful jokes - real groaners. But he always laughed the loudest at them. And your grandmother... she made the best treacle tart in England."
Harry smiled. "Did they teach you and my father magic?"
"Charlus tried." Sirius grinned. "But we were more interested in using magic for pranks than proper dueling. Mind you, your father got serious about it later, during the war..." His smile faded.
"Maybe we should visit Grimmauld Place next week?" Harry suggested quickly. "Grandpa Dumbledore already agreed to come with us."
"Right." Sirius straightened in his chair. "Yes, that would be... good. Just remember the house isn't very welcoming. My mother's portrait alone..."
Harry picked up another pastry, considering his next question. "Can I ask you something? About Snape?"
Sirius's face darkened. "What about Snivellus?"
"He..." Harry frowned at the nickname but continued. "He really hates my father. And me. He keeps comparing us, saying I'm just as arrogant and attention-seeking."
The coffee cup in Sirius's hand trembled slightly. He set it down carefully. "Snape and your father... we all had a complicated history at school."
"What happened?"
"We were stupid kids." Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Snape was obsessed with the Dark Arts, always following us around, trying to get us expelled. And we... we weren't too kind to him."
"What do you mean?"
Sirius shifted in his seat. "We had a rivalry that got out of hand sometimes. But Snape gave as good as he got - created nasty curses, used dark magic. He'd wait around corners to hex us when we walked past."
Harry wrapped his hands around his cup, absorbing the warmth. "Aunt Min mentioned he was friends at one point with my mother."
"Yes." Sirius's expression turned grim. "Lily defended him for years. Even when he started hanging around future Death Eaters, she stayed his friend. Until..." He paused, glancing at Harry. "Until he called her a filthy mudblood after she tried to help him during one of our... confrontations."
"He called her that?" Harry's fingers tightened around his cup.
"It broke their friendship completely." Sirius picked at a loose thread on his sleeve. "After that, he dove deeper into the Dark Arts. Started following Mulciber and Avery around - real nasty pieces of work, those two. They joined You-Know-Who right after graduation."
Harry was quiet for a moment before speaking. "Snape switched sides during the war."
"So Dumbledore says." Sirius's tone held clear doubt. "Look, Harry... I won't pretend your father and I were perfect. We were young and stupid sometimes. But Snape made his choices. He chose the Dark Arts, chose those Death Eater friends, chose to push away the only person who ever really defended him."
"And now he takes it out on me."
"Which makes him a petty, bitter man who can't let go of schoolboy grudges." Sirius leaned forward. "You're not your father, Harry. And you're not responsible for what happened between us and Snape."
Maurice appeared at their table with fresh coffee, breaking the heavy moment. "More pastries, perhaps?"
Harry shook his head. "Thank you, Maurice. I think we're good for now."
After Maurice left, Sirius glanced out the window. Nicolas and Perenelle sat at a distant café table, pretending to read newspapers. "They're very protective of you."
"They've been good to me." Harry brushed some crumbs off the table. "Uncle Nick teaches me alchemy, and Aunt Nelle knows more about magical plants than anyone I've met."
"And Dumbledore arranged all this?"
"After..." Harry considered his words. "After a Dementor got loose once."
Sirius went rigid. "A Dementor? At Hogwarts?"
"It's fine now." Harry waved off the concern. "But that's when Grandpa decided I needed time away from Hogwarts. I was being reckless, and the Flamels were good for me."
"I should have been there." Sirius's voice came out rough. "Should have found a way to-"
"Stop." Harry met his godfather's eyes. "You couldn't have done anything from Azkaban. And you're here now."
A comfortable silence fell between them. Outside, the magical street lamps began to light up as evening approached. Harry watched a street vendor pack up his color-changing scarves, each one shifting through different shades as they folded themselves into his cart.
"Next weekend then?" Harry asked. "For visiting Grimmauld Place?"
"Yes." Sirius nodded firmly. "I should warn you once more - the house will be in terrible shape. And my mother's portrait is very unpleasant."
"I've dealt with unpleasant things before." Harry stood up, reaching for the privacy sphere. "Maybe we could have lunch again after looking at the house?"
Sirius's face brightened. "I'd like that." He hesitated, then added, "Thank you, Harry. For giving me a chance."
"You're my godfather." Harry picked up the sphere, and the sounds of the café rushed back. "We have time to figure everything else out."
They walked to the door, but Harry noticed Sirius still tensed at sudden movements. But his smile came more naturally now, and he walked with steadier steps.
The Flamels rose from their table as Harry approached. Nicolas folded his newspaper while Perenelle gathered her bag.
"Ready to go home?" Perenelle asked.
Harry nodded, then turned back to Sirius. "I'll send an owl about next weekend."
"I'll be waiting." Sirius stared at the three of them for a moment. "It was good to talk with you."
"You too." Harry smiled. "And Sirius? The stories about my father... thank you."
Nicolas stepped forward, extending his hand to Sirius. "Mr. Black, a pleasure to meet you properly. Perhaps you'd join us for dinner sometime next month?"
"I..." Sirius blinked, clearly surprised at the invitation. "Yes, thank you."
"Excellent." Perenelle smiled warmly. "We'll send an invitation once you've settled into a proper home."
They parted ways on the street. Sirius headed toward the apparition point while Nicolas placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. The squeeze of apparition brought them to the cottage garden, where evening primrose bloomed under the setting sun.
Harry's steps faltered as they walked toward the door. His eyes darkened as an offer appeared in his mind.
[Pokéballs – Pokemon Sword and Shield] – Costs 50CP, 350CP available to spend.
The most basic tool of the trainer, used to efficiently capture and transport Pokemon and beasts across the lands. You will receive ten standard Pokéballs along with one Premier Ball. You will also receive a restock of any missing balls once per week. A Premier Ball functions as normal, but has a rare coloration of white on top and bottom, and red in the middle.
"Harry?" Perenelle touched his arm. "What's wrong?"
"Another offer." Harry blinked, focusing on the present. "Something about 'pokeballs' for capturing and transporting 'pokemon' and beasts." He frowned slightly. "They're not expensive, only fifty CP. But I've never heard of 'Pokemon' before."
"Containment items?" Nicolas stroked his beard. "That could be useful for dangerous creatures."
Harry nodded slowly. "And they restock every week if any go missing..." He made his decision, accepting the offer. A leather pouch appeared at his belt, containing ten red-and-white spheres and one distinctive white-and-red Premier Ball.
Harry pulled out the Premier Ball and held it within his palm. The evening sunlight reflected off its polished surface, highlighting the crimson band that encircled its middle.
"What an elegant design." Nicolas raised an eyebrow. "Simple yet refined." He drew his wand and cast several detection spells at the ball. Blue light rippled across the surface, but faded without revealing anything. "Most peculiar... These diagnostic charms are proving as useless as they were with your Elixir of Life..."
A golden cub shot through the cottage door as Chrysa ran toward them. The Nemean Lion cub skidded to a halt at Harry's feet, butting her head against his leg in greeting. Harry looked from the Premier Ball to Chrysa, an idea forming.
"I wonder..." He knelt beside Chrysa. "Would you mind if I tried something?"
Chrysa tilted her head, golden eyes fixed on the strange sphere in Harry's hand.
"The offer mentioned these can transport creatures." Harry held the Premier Ball out for Chrysa to sniff. "Maybe we could test it?"
Chrysa sniffed the Premier Ball, then sat back on her haunches with a curious expression. Harry stood up, and closed his eyes momentarily as knowledge flowed into his mind about how to use these Pokéballs. He took a few steps back, drew his arm back, and tossed the ball toward Chrysa.
The Premier Ball bounced off Chrysa's golden fur. Mid-bounce, it split open with a soft click. A beam of red light burst from inside, enveloping Chrysa in a bright glow. The Nemean Lion cub transformed into pure energy, pulled into the ball by an unseen force. The Premier Ball snapped shut and dropped to the grass.
It wobbled once.
Nicolas and Perenelle watched in silence.
It shook a second time.
Harry held his breath.
A third shake.
Then a clear 'click' echoed through the garden.
Harry walked over and picked up the Premier Ball. He pressed the center button, and the sphere shrank to the size of a marble in his palm. Another press expanded it back to normal.
Nicolas stepped closer. "And Chrysa is... inside?"
Harry nodded, then threw the Premier Ball into the air. It burst open, releasing a stream of red light that formed into Chrysa. The ball snapped shut mid-flight and curved back toward Harry. He easily caught it in his hand.
Chrysa blinked and looked around the garden, seemingly unbothered by what just happened. Harry pointed the Premier Ball at her, and a thin beam of red light connected them. In an instant, Chrysa transformed back into energy and returned to the ball.
"One more time." Harry released her again, grinning as she appeared in a flash of red light.
Chrysa responded with a squeaky attempt at a roar that made Perenelle laugh.
"I assume this means she's not too bothered by the process?" Nicolas raised an eyebrow.
Harry nodded. "It feels... safe. Like she's just resting inside." He shrunk the Premier Ball and attached it to his belt. "And now I can take her anywhere without worrying about size or space."
"Perfect for emergencies." Perenelle smiled at Chrysa, who had started chasing a garden gnome. "Or simply convenient travel."
"The other balls might work well for helping transport injured magical creatures to sanctuaries." Harry pulled out one of the regular Pokéballs, examining the red and white design. "Much better than using cages."
Nicolas stroked his beard. "We should test the limits. Maximum duration, distance, what types of creatures they can contain..." He paused. "After dinner, of course. Perenelle made coq au vin."
Harry wasn't hungry, but he didn't mind eating something delicious. The day's events had left him exhausted - his unsuccessful attempt to heal the Longbottoms weighed heavily on his mind, even while he was enjoying lunch with Sirius. He walked into the building with his guardians while Chrysa trotted at his side.
At least the day hadn't been a complete loss. He'd connected with his godfather, and now had a new way to keep Chrysa close. Maybe tomorrow he'd test these balls on some garden gnomes...
oo0ooOoo0oo
Poll is live on Questionable Questing, Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity. It will be available for around 2-3 days.