Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and The Power of The Coven
The situation looks dire at the moment. I hope you are enjoying.
Thanks for reading.
On to the chappie…
Last Chapter…
Once again, the old man slumped down into his chair. His eyes were fixed on the pulsing rock that lay on his desk. With every moment that passed, it seemed to change its prediction, fading then glowing bright at any given time. The headmaster drew in another shaky breath.
“Fawks.” The gird landed on his shoulder from where it had been circling the room. “I need you to go down to the infirmary and sing to them. Weep on Harry if you believe that will help him, or Severus and Ariadne. Please dear friends, help them live!” The last came out as a sound of utter despair and defeat. Dumbledore, it seemed, had given up hope.
Fawks trilled softly, encouragingly, comfortingly, and disappeared.
Chapter 10 – Of Worsening
In the past several hours, Hermione Granger had become a permanent fixture in the Hospital Wing. She hovered around Harry’s bedside worriedly checking for any sign of improvement. As she did, she threw curious looks at her raven-haired professor, who was currently unconscious and wrapped in the arms of an equally unconscious golden-haired woman. The incredibly intelligent girl could not begin to comprehend why anyone would chose to get that close to the Potion’s Master.
Both Harry and the unconscious pair had received many visitors over the past few hours. The entire Summer Coven, of whom Hermione was in awe, had been a constant influx, for a reason no one had seen fit to explain to her. She hypothesized that the blonde in Snape’s arms was possibly a friend of the Coven’s or, Merlin-forbid, a member of the Coven. The faculty had also been visiting in a constant stream, both Snape and Harry. The Weasley twins had been by earlier. She had offered her condolences on the loss of their sister.
“Hermione, we thank you very much for your thoughts, but—“
“Ginny would not want us to mope about and be miserable. In fact—“
“It is entirely possible that the two of us are incapable of moping…”
“Or being miserable. We will always, always miss our little sister, but life has to go on—“
“We simply can’t act like Ron has been. He needs to move on with things, but instead he cries all the time.”
“By the way, Herm. Have you noticed what Snape is wearing?”
A gleam of mischief had replaced the anguish in their eyes. “No, I haven’t. Why?” Hermione had looked over at the bed with the two entwined figures, really looked this time and… “Oh My GOD!!! Are those black skinny jeans???”
She had turned wide eyes to the twins. They wore matching grins. “Yup” They said together. “Now looked at his shoes.”
And she had. Her horrible, reclusive, greasy potions professor had been wearing red converse high-tops…with tight black skinny jeans and a red silk shirt…”What is the world coming to? It must be the end of days! Look! His hair isn’t even greasy!!!”
Hermione had felt light-headed. Looking at her professor now, still wearing the converse high-tops, she had to admit grudgingly that he was not all that bad. Of course she still wouldn’t want to be as close to him as that woman was, but to each her own.
She turned back to the boy on the bed next to her. He had regained some color and the nutrition potions had put some meat back on his bones. All the internal damage had been mended and his broken bones were all fixed: ribs, skull, fingers, everything. He should be in near to perfect health. So why was he still unconscious? Why did the life stone in Dumbledore’s office still glow and pulse red, brightly then faintly then brightly again? What was wrong with Harry?
A groan from across the room disrupted the silence. Hermione’s head jerked up and she stared at the now restless figure of her teacher.
Severus was finally emerging from the pooling blackness into which he had been pushed. He shifted restlessly and noticed a weight on his chest. Opening his eyes, he was met with the interested stare of his most brilliant and annoying pupil. “Miss Granger.” He rasped, by way of greeting. His voice sounded hoarse and he wondered how long he had been out. What had he done to himself?
“Hello, professor. You’re finally awake. It’s been 14 hours.” The bushy brown haired girl said calmly.
“14?!?” Snape struggled to sit up and remembered the weight on his chest. He looked down. “Ariadne? What…Oh.”
Memories came flooding back. Those terrifying minutes…or had it been hours? Or mere seconds? Time did not seem to have meaning when connected to that period in which he thought he would lose his son without ever actually knowing him. Without telling him the truth. He shuddered.
“How is he? Is he alive?” There was an urgency in Snape’s tone that Hermione had never heard before.
“Yes, professor. He is alive and all the damage his relatives inflicted upon him has been healed, but he is still unconscious and no one knows why.” Her voice held the barest hint of defeat. However, Hermione’s eyes were still wide at his casual use of the blonde’s name. Something flickered in her memory. Ariadne? Surely it could not be Ariadne Aureus, High Priestess of the Summer Coven and Mistress of the Dark Arts?
“Professor, is that…?”
“Yes, it is. She is to be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Miss Granger, if you would be so kind as to assist me? I cannot lift her from this angle.” The request seemed to burn inside his mouth. He was not weak and he hated appearing so. Any request for help was a show of weakness.
The teen squeaked and jumped to her feet. Hurrying across the Infirmary, she helped Severus lift the blonde woman enough to slide out from underneath her. As Hermione returned to her seat, Severus stretched, his back popping from being so long in one place. The movement alerted him to the fact the he was not wearing his usual clothing. He straightened and glanced down at himself.
“What the hell am I wearing?” His raspy voice made the question sound like a snarl.
Hermione fought very hard to keep the laughter from her voice, but failed. “I believe you are wearing a red silk shirt, black skinny jeans, and a pair of converse High-tops, sir.”
The black eyes that met Hermione’s chocolate ones glittered with the promise of punishment once school began. The teen clamped her lips shut. Snape turned his gaze to the woman in the bed. “You are going to regret your choice of wardrobe, when you awaken, Ariadne. I promise you!”
Glancing over his shoulder at Hermione, he saw that her eyes were wider then before. Obviously, he had not chosen his words well. Shaking off the concern, he walked gingerly to Harry’s bedside. He looked down at the still form lying there. The boy looked so small. He was shorter then average. He should be bigger, strong. He should be well!
As he stood, another groan from across the room split the silence. Severus turned on his heel and stalked back to the bed from which he had arisen. Ariadne was arching her back, cracking it by the sound. She stretched like a cat after a long nap. For a moment, Severus paused to simply stare at her. Then she opened her eyes and met his gaze.
Her stormy grey eyes went from contented to agonized in the space of a heartbeat. “Is he?!?”
“He lives, but no one knows for how long. He is healed but unconscious.” Severus murmured to her, easing her worry slightly. Hermione wondered why these two should be so worried over Harry, his most hated professor and a complete stranger. When Severus spoke to Ariadne again, his tone had changed. There was accusation in his voice. “Ariadne, what the hell am I wearing?!?”
The blonde woman grinned mischievously, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “I believe you are wearing a red silk shirt that was once a white dress shirt, a pair of very tight black skinny jeans that were once black dress pants, and a pair of cherry converse High-tops that were once patent leather dress shoes. At some point, we must retrieve your robes from Aberforth at the Hog’s Head. He does not approve when we leave clothing around his upstairs room.”
With Snape’s back turned to her, Hermione suddenly realized how right the woman was. They were indeed very tight jeans. She blushed bright red and looked away.
“And why am I dress this way?” The raven-haired man ground out.
“Severus, you know very well you simply didn’t blend in with the muggles dress as you were. I had to change your clothes.”
“You did not however have to pick this particular attire! You shall pay for this, Ariadne dear.” His use of the endearment was anything but loving.
“I believe, dear, that your exceedingly tight pants are making that girl over there very uncomfortable.” Ariadne pointed out with a smirk.
Severus’ eyes widened comically, then narrowed. Drawing his wand from its wrist holster, he prepared to return his clothing to normal. However, before he was able, a soft whimper escaped from between Harry’s lips as he moved slightly on the bed next to Hermione. All thoughts of clothing gone from their minds, the three were at his bedside in a moment. Snape’s wand disappeared back up his sleeve. Harry’s forehead had broken out in a sweat and he fidgeted restlessly. Severus reached out a hand and laid it across Harry’s brow. He was burning up. Brushing the boy’s black hair out of his eyes, he withdrew the hand. Turning he said stiffly, “Miss. Granger, fetch Dumbledore at once!”
The teen took off running.
“Ariadne, find out where that blasted medi-witch is!”
The blonde nodded and exited through a different door. When the room had cleared, Severus went quickly to the shelves in the corner. It took only a moment to find what he had been seeking. Taking several bottles from their places, he crossed back to the hospital bed. With one hand, Severus opened Harry’s stiff jaw. He poured a fever-reducer into the boy’s mouth. Long, pale fingers massaged the teen’s throat, causing an involuntary swallow. The tall man waited. Nothing happened. There was no change in Harry’s condition.
Severus furrowed his brow. “Odd.”
The blood replenisher that was forced down Harry’s throat next worked. His pale face flushed suddenly. Snape tested his forehead again. The fever was worse, if anything. Severus was beginning to get worried. He’d never seen a fever, in someone this age, that didn’t respond to potions.
As Snape ran a diagnostic test, Dumbledore entered the infirmary with Hermione and the Coven in tow.
“Severus, what is wrong? How are you?”
“Albus, there…I-I don’t know what is wrong with him.” Snape stumbled over his words, as if he had never uttered them before. In the pause, Harry moaned aloud and began to jerk. The thrashing figure pulled Snape’s attention away from the headmaster. “I gave him the fever potion and it had no effect. I can’t…I don’t—“
“My dear boy, when did he become feverish? Where is Madam Pomfrey?”
“I am right here. What is wrong with my patient?” The matronly woman bustled in, taking control. The situation was explained to her and she pushed Snape out of the way, taking his place at Harry’s side. She ran diagnostics spells and her brow furrowed. “Headmaster, would you kindly check his aura?”
The old man nodded and complied. A bright golden aura, traced through with white and royal blue flared into existence surrounding the teen on the bed. As they all watched, the aura bubbled like molten lava, exploding outwards every few minutes. With every explosion a new color appeared. Green, orange, red, pink, a pale yellow, purple, grey, and, the last color to appear, black. The group stared uncomprehendingly at the swiftly changing aura.
“Professor Dumbledore, I am not familiar with his condition. I have never seen anything like it before.” The nurse murmured softly, the strain of the admission clear in her voice.
Terror in his eyes, Severus reached out and brushed a shaking hand across Harry’s forehead. As soon as his hand touch Harry’s skin, his aura seemed to calm slightly as did his thrashing. Dumbledore’s eyebrow drew together in a stormy expression. “What in Merlin’s name…” He muttered. “I have never seen anything like it, not at his age.”
Pomfrey attempted to feed him another fever potion, but Severus stopped her. “The boy received a dose of that potion, which did not improve his condition nor lower the fever. Another dose can only be detrimental to his already precarious health.” He turned his gaze away from the sickly figure. “Headmaster, may I suggest we adjourned to your office to explain to everyone what took place at that muggle house and clear some of Miss Granger’s confusion. She may be able to assist us in researching, if she were not so distracted by the detail, which no one has seen fit to explain to her.” As he said this, his gaze was drawn to Olympia and Ekantika, standing next to one another in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow. Hermione’s eyes were so wide, they seemed ready to pop out of her head at any moment.
“I agree, dear boy. Let us return to my office.” Dumbledore ushered the confused and curious group out of the infirmary. As he departed, the headmaster nodded to the medi-witch, who was conjuring icepacks to cool Harry down before his fever became dangerous. The old man closed the door behind him.
Thanks! Please review.
The situation looks dire at the moment. I hope you are enjoying.
Thanks for reading.
[*On to the chappie
Thanks for reading.
On to the chappie…
Last Chapter…
Once again, the old man slumped down into his chair. His eyes were fixed on the pulsing rock that lay on his desk. With every moment that passed, it seemed to change its prediction, fading then glowing bright at any given time. The headmaster drew in another shaky breath.
“Fawks.” The gird landed on his shoulder from where it had been circling the room. “I need you to go down to the infirmary and sing to them. Weep on Harry if you believe that will help him, or Severus and Ariadne. Please dear friends, help them live!” The last came out as a sound of utter despair and defeat. Dumbledore, it seemed, had given up hope.
Fawks trilled softly, encouragingly, comfortingly, and disappeared.
Chapter 10 – Of Worsening
In the past several hours, Hermione Granger had become a permanent fixture in the Hospital Wing. She hovered around Harry’s bedside worriedly checking for any sign of improvement. As she did, she threw curious looks at her raven-haired professor, who was currently unconscious and wrapped in the arms of an equally unconscious golden-haired woman. The incredibly intelligent girl could not begin to comprehend why anyone would chose to get that close to the Potion’s Master.
Both Harry and the unconscious pair had received many visitors over the past few hours. The entire Summer Coven, of whom Hermione was in awe, had been a constant influx, for a reason no one had seen fit to explain to her. She hypothesized that the blonde in Snape’s arms was possibly a friend of the Coven’s or, Merlin-forbid, a member of the Coven. The faculty had also been visiting in a constant stream, both Snape and Harry. The Weasley twins had been by earlier. She had offered her condolences on the loss of their sister.
“Hermione, we thank you very much for your thoughts, but—“
“Ginny would not want us to mope about and be miserable. In fact—“
“It is entirely possible that the two of us are incapable of moping…”
“Or being miserable. We will always, always miss our little sister, but life has to go on—“
“We simply can’t act like Ron has been. He needs to move on with things, but instead he cries all the time.”
“By the way, Herm. Have you noticed what Snape is wearing?”
A gleam of mischief had replaced the anguish in their eyes. “No, I haven’t. Why?” Hermione had looked over at the bed with the two entwined figures, really looked this time and… “Oh My GOD!!! Are those black skinny jeans???”
She had turned wide eyes to the twins. They wore matching grins. “Yup” They said together. “Now looked at his shoes.”
And she had. Her horrible, reclusive, greasy potions professor had been wearing red converse high-tops…with tight black skinny jeans and a red silk shirt…”What is the world coming to? It must be the end of days! Look! His hair isn’t even greasy!!!”
Hermione had felt light-headed. Looking at her professor now, still wearing the converse high-tops, she had to admit grudgingly that he was not all that bad. Of course she still wouldn’t want to be as close to him as that woman was, but to each her own.
She turned back to the boy on the bed next to her. He had regained some color and the nutrition potions had put some meat back on his bones. All the internal damage had been mended and his broken bones were all fixed: ribs, skull, fingers, everything. He should be in near to perfect health. So why was he still unconscious? Why did the life stone in Dumbledore’s office still glow and pulse red, brightly then faintly then brightly again? What was wrong with Harry?
A groan from across the room disrupted the silence. Hermione’s head jerked up and she stared at the now restless figure of her teacher.
Severus was finally emerging from the pooling blackness into which he had been pushed. He shifted restlessly and noticed a weight on his chest. Opening his eyes, he was met with the interested stare of his most brilliant and annoying pupil. “Miss Granger.” He rasped, by way of greeting. His voice sounded hoarse and he wondered how long he had been out. What had he done to himself?
“Hello, professor. You’re finally awake. It’s been 14 hours.” The bushy brown haired girl said calmly.
“14?!?” Snape struggled to sit up and remembered the weight on his chest. He looked down. “Ariadne? What…Oh.”
Memories came flooding back. Those terrifying minutes…or had it been hours? Or mere seconds? Time did not seem to have meaning when connected to that period in which he thought he would lose his son without ever actually knowing him. Without telling him the truth. He shuddered.
“How is he? Is he alive?” There was an urgency in Snape’s tone that Hermione had never heard before.
“Yes, professor. He is alive and all the damage his relatives inflicted upon him has been healed, but he is still unconscious and no one knows why.” Her voice held the barest hint of defeat. However, Hermione’s eyes were still wide at his casual use of the blonde’s name. Something flickered in her memory. Ariadne? Surely it could not be Ariadne Aureus, High Priestess of the Summer Coven and Mistress of the Dark Arts?
“Professor, is that…?”
“Yes, it is. She is to be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Miss Granger, if you would be so kind as to assist me? I cannot lift her from this angle.” The request seemed to burn inside his mouth. He was not weak and he hated appearing so. Any request for help was a show of weakness.
The teen squeaked and jumped to her feet. Hurrying across the Infirmary, she helped Severus lift the blonde woman enough to slide out from underneath her. As Hermione returned to her seat, Severus stretched, his back popping from being so long in one place. The movement alerted him to the fact the he was not wearing his usual clothing. He straightened and glanced down at himself.
“What the hell am I wearing?” His raspy voice made the question sound like a snarl.
Hermione fought very hard to keep the laughter from her voice, but failed. “I believe you are wearing a red silk shirt, black skinny jeans, and a pair of converse High-tops, sir.”
The black eyes that met Hermione’s chocolate ones glittered with the promise of punishment once school began. The teen clamped her lips shut. Snape turned his gaze to the woman in the bed. “You are going to regret your choice of wardrobe, when you awaken, Ariadne. I promise you!”
Glancing over his shoulder at Hermione, he saw that her eyes were wider then before. Obviously, he had not chosen his words well. Shaking off the concern, he walked gingerly to Harry’s bedside. He looked down at the still form lying there. The boy looked so small. He was shorter then average. He should be bigger, strong. He should be well!
As he stood, another groan from across the room split the silence. Severus turned on his heel and stalked back to the bed from which he had arisen. Ariadne was arching her back, cracking it by the sound. She stretched like a cat after a long nap. For a moment, Severus paused to simply stare at her. Then she opened her eyes and met his gaze.
Her stormy grey eyes went from contented to agonized in the space of a heartbeat. “Is he?!?”
“He lives, but no one knows for how long. He is healed but unconscious.” Severus murmured to her, easing her worry slightly. Hermione wondered why these two should be so worried over Harry, his most hated professor and a complete stranger. When Severus spoke to Ariadne again, his tone had changed. There was accusation in his voice. “Ariadne, what the hell am I wearing?!?”
The blonde woman grinned mischievously, a faint blush staining her cheeks. “I believe you are wearing a red silk shirt that was once a white dress shirt, a pair of very tight black skinny jeans that were once black dress pants, and a pair of cherry converse High-tops that were once patent leather dress shoes. At some point, we must retrieve your robes from Aberforth at the Hog’s Head. He does not approve when we leave clothing around his upstairs room.”
With Snape’s back turned to her, Hermione suddenly realized how right the woman was. They were indeed very tight jeans. She blushed bright red and looked away.
“And why am I dress this way?” The raven-haired man ground out.
“Severus, you know very well you simply didn’t blend in with the muggles dress as you were. I had to change your clothes.”
“You did not however have to pick this particular attire! You shall pay for this, Ariadne dear.” His use of the endearment was anything but loving.
“I believe, dear, that your exceedingly tight pants are making that girl over there very uncomfortable.” Ariadne pointed out with a smirk.
Severus’ eyes widened comically, then narrowed. Drawing his wand from its wrist holster, he prepared to return his clothing to normal. However, before he was able, a soft whimper escaped from between Harry’s lips as he moved slightly on the bed next to Hermione. All thoughts of clothing gone from their minds, the three were at his bedside in a moment. Snape’s wand disappeared back up his sleeve. Harry’s forehead had broken out in a sweat and he fidgeted restlessly. Severus reached out a hand and laid it across Harry’s brow. He was burning up. Brushing the boy’s black hair out of his eyes, he withdrew the hand. Turning he said stiffly, “Miss. Granger, fetch Dumbledore at once!”
The teen took off running.
“Ariadne, find out where that blasted medi-witch is!”
The blonde nodded and exited through a different door. When the room had cleared, Severus went quickly to the shelves in the corner. It took only a moment to find what he had been seeking. Taking several bottles from their places, he crossed back to the hospital bed. With one hand, Severus opened Harry’s stiff jaw. He poured a fever-reducer into the boy’s mouth. Long, pale fingers massaged the teen’s throat, causing an involuntary swallow. The tall man waited. Nothing happened. There was no change in Harry’s condition.
Severus furrowed his brow. “Odd.”
The blood replenisher that was forced down Harry’s throat next worked. His pale face flushed suddenly. Snape tested his forehead again. The fever was worse, if anything. Severus was beginning to get worried. He’d never seen a fever, in someone this age, that didn’t respond to potions.
As Snape ran a diagnostic test, Dumbledore entered the infirmary with Hermione and the Coven in tow.
“Severus, what is wrong? How are you?”
“Albus, there…I-I don’t know what is wrong with him.” Snape stumbled over his words, as if he had never uttered them before. In the pause, Harry moaned aloud and began to jerk. The thrashing figure pulled Snape’s attention away from the headmaster. “I gave him the fever potion and it had no effect. I can’t…I don’t—“
“My dear boy, when did he become feverish? Where is Madam Pomfrey?”
“I am right here. What is wrong with my patient?” The matronly woman bustled in, taking control. The situation was explained to her and she pushed Snape out of the way, taking his place at Harry’s side. She ran diagnostics spells and her brow furrowed. “Headmaster, would you kindly check his aura?”
The old man nodded and complied. A bright golden aura, traced through with white and royal blue flared into existence surrounding the teen on the bed. As they all watched, the aura bubbled like molten lava, exploding outwards every few minutes. With every explosion a new color appeared. Green, orange, red, pink, a pale yellow, purple, grey, and, the last color to appear, black. The group stared uncomprehendingly at the swiftly changing aura.
“Professor Dumbledore, I am not familiar with his condition. I have never seen anything like it before.” The nurse murmured softly, the strain of the admission clear in her voice.
Terror in his eyes, Severus reached out and brushed a shaking hand across Harry’s forehead. As soon as his hand touch Harry’s skin, his aura seemed to calm slightly as did his thrashing. Dumbledore’s eyebrow drew together in a stormy expression. “What in Merlin’s name…” He muttered. “I have never seen anything like it, not at his age.”
Pomfrey attempted to feed him another fever potion, but Severus stopped her. “The boy received a dose of that potion, which did not improve his condition nor lower the fever. Another dose can only be detrimental to his already precarious health.” He turned his gaze away from the sickly figure. “Headmaster, may I suggest we adjourned to your office to explain to everyone what took place at that muggle house and clear some of Miss Granger’s confusion. She may be able to assist us in researching, if she were not so distracted by the detail, which no one has seen fit to explain to her.” As he said this, his gaze was drawn to Olympia and Ekantika, standing next to one another in the doorway. He raised an eyebrow. Hermione’s eyes were so wide, they seemed ready to pop out of her head at any moment.
“I agree, dear boy. Let us return to my office.” Dumbledore ushered the confused and curious group out of the infirmary. As he departed, the headmaster nodded to the medi-witch, who was conjuring icepacks to cool Harry down before his fever became dangerous. The old man closed the door behind him.
Thanks! Please review.
The situation looks dire at the moment. I hope you are enjoying.
Thanks for reading.
[*On to the chappie
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