Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and The Power of The Coven
I am, writing wise, about three to four chapters ahead of what is posted at any given time. I do this on purpose in case there is a week or w/e I can’t write. Like my up and coming first week of college. So these notes about reviews will be out of order. Which is why one of the later chapters thanks the 4 ppl who review at the time I added to the note.
The illness, you will probably notice, is a mixture between the Refiner’s Fire (Abraxan) and a sickness from another fan fic. However, my brain is mush and I don’t remember that fics name! It was a Harry/Hermione fic where they time traveled to train (they repeated the same week about 40 times). They spent most of that time in Mexico. I am sorry to whoever authored that fic, but yeah… I borrowed their illness.
This one is also a little bit shorter then my other chapters. Sorry about that.
Last Chapter…
The pale man blinked once and, with a quick nod to Hermione and an agonized glance to Ariadne, turned on his heel and exited the office. The all stared after him for a few seconds, before Ariadne stood and followed him.
The office was filled with silence for several more moments. Hermione’s brow furrowed slowly. She pursed her lips in thought. “Abuse...neglect…mal-nutrition…Oh God.”
She stood abruptly and ran from the office, ignoring the inquiries that were called after her. Hermione need to go to the library. She had an idea of what was wrong with Harry, but, for the second time in the space of a couple days, she hoped to Merlin, God, and anyone else that she was mistaken.
Chapter 12 – Of Waxing
The only sound in the deserted library was the frantic flipping of pages as Hermione Granger looked feverishly for what she sought. Her jeans and green Wicked t-shirt was covered in dust after only a couple minutes searching through the stacks. It took her only three tries to find the information she needed. Checking the page number, she shut the book and left swiftly, taking it with her. As she raced through the hallways back to the infirmary, she prayed fervently for a miracle.
She came to skidding halt in front of Harry’s bed. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight, but Snape stood in a corner at the window, staring out at the grounds. Ariadne stood close behind him, murmuring softly. There was agony in his eyes that was visible even at that distance. Hermione shuttered at the older man’s pain.
“Professor!” She panted urgently. “I think I know what’s wrong with him!”
Snape’s already rigid back seemed to snap to attention. He spun towards her. “Dumbledore!” The exclamation came out as a soft hiss.
Ariadne was already taking matters into her own hands though. Literally. She held her hands out in front of her, cupped as if they held something. Magic began to swirl in her palms, forming a funnel. It resolved after a moment into a nebula. Inside the small round cloud, a face appeared. “Olympia, Ms. Ganger believes that she has discovered the cause of Harry’s illness. Bring Dumbledore and the girls immediately to the infirmary.”
She cut off the connection with a clap of her hands. Hermione’s awed stare was beginning to boarder on worshipful. “You can do wandless magic.”
“Yes, I can. I plan on teaching it to Harry, if he wishes me as a tutor, once he is well again. And please, call me Ariadne, at least until school begins.”
Hermione nodded, but her face had fallen at the mention of Harry’s recovery. “Please call me Hermione. Ms. Granger makes me feel old.” She muttered, her gaze drawn to Harry’s inert form.
“I thank you, Hermione.” The golden-haired woman smiled softly. The infirmary and its inhabitants fell into an anxious silence.
Two doors opened simultaneously, allowing both the headmaster and Madam Pomfrey to enter. The Coven poured in behind the old man.
“What is it you have found, Ms. Granger?” Dumbledore asked gently.
The teen opened the book she held under her arm and flipped pages while she spoke. “Professor, I believe that Harry never underwent his Venefici Sopor. I am sure that he would have owled me about it or something! But I never even thought to ask. I think that the mixture of all the abuse he suffered delayed it. That’s why it won’t respond to the potions. That is the only explanation for what is wrong with him now! It even explains what is wrong with his aura. You even said it, sir, ‘never in someone his age’!” When she had finished, she took a gasping breath.
Dumbledore’s eyes were fractionally wider then before. Snape snapped is wrist, drawing his wand. He muttered a quick spell and Harry’s aura flared into existence again. The gold that had appeared like molten lava earlier, now seemed to be a star exploding around Harry in a undulating, multi-colored cloud.
“Oh Sweet Merlin!” Dumbledore looked stunned. “Ms. Granger…this is not possible. Harry would be unable to perform magic at any level above first year magic, had he not undergone the Venefici Sopor. There is no way he could have remained a student here without undergoing it, never mind that it would have caused us to recognize what was happening to him at home.”
“No, Sir. It is possible. Extremely rare, but possible. Look here, professor. This book says that Godric Gryffindor himself experienced a very delayed Venefici Sopor, due to heavy manual labor he was forced to perform during the harvesting season. He still trained with his tutors and performed at an average level, until he fell ill and they all realized that something was very wrong.”
Hermione proffered the book in her hands. Severus was the first to come forward. He snatched it from her grasp and glanced quickly over the text. Ariadne followed, reading over his shoulder. His eyes grew wide as he read and he shot worried looks at the teen on the bed, who was still enveloped in his fiery aura. He nodded once, handing the book to the headmaster.
“It is possible. He must have tremendous power to be able to cast a fully corporeal Patronus without having undergone his Venefici Sopor.”
Dumbledore looked up sharply from the book. “Oh Merlin…” The old man turned quickly and went straight to the fireplace. Placing a quick floo call through to headquarters, he called, “Remus!”
A head appeared in the fireplace. “Headmaster? Is everything alright? Is Harry alright? Is he still with those horrid muggles?”
“No, Remus. I am afraid he is not alright. Please come through.”
In a flash of green flame, a tall, thin man emerged onto the hearth. He wore frayed grey robes and a worried expression on his handsome, but gaunt face. His nut-brown hair was sprinkled with grey. He looked tired.
“What is—“
“Remus, Harry is experiencing his Venefici Sopor.”
The man chuckled, shaking his head. “No. That’s absurd. He can cast a corporeal Patronus, he has already undergone it.”
“Lupin, the headmaster is not joking! H-Mr. Potter could very well die, if we do not find a way to stabilize his aura!” Snape took a step forward and hissed through his teeth. Ariadne placed a calming hand on his back. He shot her an angered glare. She smiled in response.
“But how could he—“
“I shall explain everything to you in the very near future. At the moment, our top priority is stabilizing Harry’s aura. Any suggestions?” Dumbledore seemed flustered and unable to concentrate. He kept shooting worried glances at Harry.
“It is custom for one of the parents to hold the person while they suffer from the fever. It usually calms the patient down, magically and physically. But if the Venefici Sopor has been delayed this long it would be dangerous for anyone to get near Harry, even if he did have a live parent.” Remus slipped into teacher mode. “Of course, because of the huge delay in the Venefici Sopor, it is still extremely likely that he will…” Remus swallowed thickly. “That he will not survive it.”
Severus, who growled softly at Lupin’s comment, immediately went to the bed and laid a hand on the raven-haired teen’s brow, disregarding the danger in which Harry’s aura placed him. The bubbling, exploding aura settled to the molten state it had been in earlier. Snape seated himself next to Harry and took Harry’s hand in one of his own, brushing the boy’s hair out of his eyes with the other. The whimpers and fidgets that had been Harry’s constant state for the past couple hours settled. Remus gaped at the pair. He turned slowly to Dumbledore, the question plainly in his eyes.
“Yes, as I said, I will explain everything, once Harry is well. He is not aware of the…situation either. He has the right to know before anyone else is told.”
Remus nodded slowly, his eyes back on the raven-haired pair. Now that he truly looked at them, next to each other like this, without the picture of James in his head, he could see the similarities. The hair was the exact same raven black; so ebony, in fact, that in certain lighting it gleamed bluish. They shared the same pale skin and the same long faces. Over the summer, Harry’s features had matured a little, losing the roundness of childhood completely. His high cheekbones were visible now, making his face appear longer, like Snape’s face. James had a round face, not fat, but more oval shaped then Harry’s. His hair had also been lighter, with shades of brown in it. His best friend had retained a tan well, making his skin a warmer tone then Harry’s skin ever achieved, even after long hours of Spring Quidditch training. Harry did still have his mother’s eyes, that vibrant emerald. His nose was small like hers had been, but it was thinner, more aristocratic, like Snape’s. Remus’ eyes misted a little at the thoughts of the deceased Marauder and his wife. He shook his head, clearing away the comparison.
Chairs were conjured and the ever-increasing group settled in to wait. Severus sat like a statue, never moving from Harry side, as the hours slipped by.
Though Harry did not regain consciousness, his body and aura both began to show the effects of the Venefici Sopor. He seemed to grow before their eyes. He gained at least a couple of inches each hour, for the first six hours. Hermione cringed inwardly at the pain Harry would have to endure once he awoke. Her own Venefici Sopor had lasted 19 hours. She gained only 4 inches in height and her bones ached for a week.
His body changed in other ways, as well. His shoulders gained width, his face sharpened, and his hair grew. He was changing as they watched. He looked like a completely different person, older and more mature. His aura, which had settled into the molten state, calmed as the hours passed. The colors that flicked through it seemed to appear less often. The golden light that glowed brightly was fading as well, lightening to a pale gold, shot through with pearl. Snape could feel the magic of it pricking and probing at his own aura, which was considerably darker.
Every few hours Madam Pomfrey ran a diagnostic spell over the boy. His fever had stopped climbing after the first couple hours. He body grew strong, according to the spell. All the ill effects of Harry’s maltreatment and abuse had simply vanished and yet he remained in the throws of the fever.
Dumbledore paced restlessly across the infirmary floor. The members of the Coven came and went as the time passed, but Ariadne remained close. She hovered over Snape or stared from the window. Never once did she leave for more then a few minutes. She still wore the same torn clothing in which she had returned from Privet Drive, as did Snape. Neither spared one scrap of attention to what they wore, nor how the looked.
They made a frightful pair. Hermione, determined to watch over Harry as best she could, tried to keep her gaze off the two. They were still both spattered in blood. The crimson stains looked even more morbid then they had in the headmaster’s office, due to the fact the both parties were several shades paler with stress and worry. The burning in their eyes remained, but in a muted degree.
About four hours after Hermione’s discovery, the Weasley twins dropped by with their parents. Molly was worried sick after the story told to her by her sons. They were kindly asked to leave several minutes later, Molly crying hysterically and the twins threatening to do violence to Harry’s relatives. Arthur herded his family into the floo with a dazed expression, thanking Dumbledore for the brief visit as he went.
Two days went by in this same quietly frenzied fashion. The house elves brought food at regular intervals. The group snatched naps when they could on the hospital beds. Snape however never moved from his statue-like vigil and, while Severus remained awake, so did Ariadne.
On the morning of the third day, however, something caused Severus to stir from his place. Something had changed. He could feel it.
Slight Cliffy. Please review.
[*I am, writing wise, about three to four chapters ahead of what is posted at any given time. I do this on purpose in case there is a week or w/e I can
The illness, you will probably notice, is a mixture between the Refiner’s Fire (Abraxan) and a sickness from another fan fic. However, my brain is mush and I don’t remember that fics name! It was a Harry/Hermione fic where they time traveled to train (they repeated the same week about 40 times). They spent most of that time in Mexico. I am sorry to whoever authored that fic, but yeah… I borrowed their illness.
This one is also a little bit shorter then my other chapters. Sorry about that.
Last Chapter…
The pale man blinked once and, with a quick nod to Hermione and an agonized glance to Ariadne, turned on his heel and exited the office. The all stared after him for a few seconds, before Ariadne stood and followed him.
The office was filled with silence for several more moments. Hermione’s brow furrowed slowly. She pursed her lips in thought. “Abuse...neglect…mal-nutrition…Oh God.”
She stood abruptly and ran from the office, ignoring the inquiries that were called after her. Hermione need to go to the library. She had an idea of what was wrong with Harry, but, for the second time in the space of a couple days, she hoped to Merlin, God, and anyone else that she was mistaken.
Chapter 12 – Of Waxing
The only sound in the deserted library was the frantic flipping of pages as Hermione Granger looked feverishly for what she sought. Her jeans and green Wicked t-shirt was covered in dust after only a couple minutes searching through the stacks. It took her only three tries to find the information she needed. Checking the page number, she shut the book and left swiftly, taking it with her. As she raced through the hallways back to the infirmary, she prayed fervently for a miracle.
She came to skidding halt in front of Harry’s bed. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight, but Snape stood in a corner at the window, staring out at the grounds. Ariadne stood close behind him, murmuring softly. There was agony in his eyes that was visible even at that distance. Hermione shuttered at the older man’s pain.
“Professor!” She panted urgently. “I think I know what’s wrong with him!”
Snape’s already rigid back seemed to snap to attention. He spun towards her. “Dumbledore!” The exclamation came out as a soft hiss.
Ariadne was already taking matters into her own hands though. Literally. She held her hands out in front of her, cupped as if they held something. Magic began to swirl in her palms, forming a funnel. It resolved after a moment into a nebula. Inside the small round cloud, a face appeared. “Olympia, Ms. Ganger believes that she has discovered the cause of Harry’s illness. Bring Dumbledore and the girls immediately to the infirmary.”
She cut off the connection with a clap of her hands. Hermione’s awed stare was beginning to boarder on worshipful. “You can do wandless magic.”
“Yes, I can. I plan on teaching it to Harry, if he wishes me as a tutor, once he is well again. And please, call me Ariadne, at least until school begins.”
Hermione nodded, but her face had fallen at the mention of Harry’s recovery. “Please call me Hermione. Ms. Granger makes me feel old.” She muttered, her gaze drawn to Harry’s inert form.
“I thank you, Hermione.” The golden-haired woman smiled softly. The infirmary and its inhabitants fell into an anxious silence.
Two doors opened simultaneously, allowing both the headmaster and Madam Pomfrey to enter. The Coven poured in behind the old man.
“What is it you have found, Ms. Granger?” Dumbledore asked gently.
The teen opened the book she held under her arm and flipped pages while she spoke. “Professor, I believe that Harry never underwent his Venefici Sopor. I am sure that he would have owled me about it or something! But I never even thought to ask. I think that the mixture of all the abuse he suffered delayed it. That’s why it won’t respond to the potions. That is the only explanation for what is wrong with him now! It even explains what is wrong with his aura. You even said it, sir, ‘never in someone his age’!” When she had finished, she took a gasping breath.
Dumbledore’s eyes were fractionally wider then before. Snape snapped is wrist, drawing his wand. He muttered a quick spell and Harry’s aura flared into existence again. The gold that had appeared like molten lava earlier, now seemed to be a star exploding around Harry in a undulating, multi-colored cloud.
“Oh Sweet Merlin!” Dumbledore looked stunned. “Ms. Granger…this is not possible. Harry would be unable to perform magic at any level above first year magic, had he not undergone the Venefici Sopor. There is no way he could have remained a student here without undergoing it, never mind that it would have caused us to recognize what was happening to him at home.”
“No, Sir. It is possible. Extremely rare, but possible. Look here, professor. This book says that Godric Gryffindor himself experienced a very delayed Venefici Sopor, due to heavy manual labor he was forced to perform during the harvesting season. He still trained with his tutors and performed at an average level, until he fell ill and they all realized that something was very wrong.”
Hermione proffered the book in her hands. Severus was the first to come forward. He snatched it from her grasp and glanced quickly over the text. Ariadne followed, reading over his shoulder. His eyes grew wide as he read and he shot worried looks at the teen on the bed, who was still enveloped in his fiery aura. He nodded once, handing the book to the headmaster.
“It is possible. He must have tremendous power to be able to cast a fully corporeal Patronus without having undergone his Venefici Sopor.”
Dumbledore looked up sharply from the book. “Oh Merlin…” The old man turned quickly and went straight to the fireplace. Placing a quick floo call through to headquarters, he called, “Remus!”
A head appeared in the fireplace. “Headmaster? Is everything alright? Is Harry alright? Is he still with those horrid muggles?”
“No, Remus. I am afraid he is not alright. Please come through.”
In a flash of green flame, a tall, thin man emerged onto the hearth. He wore frayed grey robes and a worried expression on his handsome, but gaunt face. His nut-brown hair was sprinkled with grey. He looked tired.
“What is—“
“Remus, Harry is experiencing his Venefici Sopor.”
The man chuckled, shaking his head. “No. That’s absurd. He can cast a corporeal Patronus, he has already undergone it.”
“Lupin, the headmaster is not joking! H-Mr. Potter could very well die, if we do not find a way to stabilize his aura!” Snape took a step forward and hissed through his teeth. Ariadne placed a calming hand on his back. He shot her an angered glare. She smiled in response.
“But how could he—“
“I shall explain everything to you in the very near future. At the moment, our top priority is stabilizing Harry’s aura. Any suggestions?” Dumbledore seemed flustered and unable to concentrate. He kept shooting worried glances at Harry.
“It is custom for one of the parents to hold the person while they suffer from the fever. It usually calms the patient down, magically and physically. But if the Venefici Sopor has been delayed this long it would be dangerous for anyone to get near Harry, even if he did have a live parent.” Remus slipped into teacher mode. “Of course, because of the huge delay in the Venefici Sopor, it is still extremely likely that he will…” Remus swallowed thickly. “That he will not survive it.”
Severus, who growled softly at Lupin’s comment, immediately went to the bed and laid a hand on the raven-haired teen’s brow, disregarding the danger in which Harry’s aura placed him. The bubbling, exploding aura settled to the molten state it had been in earlier. Snape seated himself next to Harry and took Harry’s hand in one of his own, brushing the boy’s hair out of his eyes with the other. The whimpers and fidgets that had been Harry’s constant state for the past couple hours settled. Remus gaped at the pair. He turned slowly to Dumbledore, the question plainly in his eyes.
“Yes, as I said, I will explain everything, once Harry is well. He is not aware of the…situation either. He has the right to know before anyone else is told.”
Remus nodded slowly, his eyes back on the raven-haired pair. Now that he truly looked at them, next to each other like this, without the picture of James in his head, he could see the similarities. The hair was the exact same raven black; so ebony, in fact, that in certain lighting it gleamed bluish. They shared the same pale skin and the same long faces. Over the summer, Harry’s features had matured a little, losing the roundness of childhood completely. His high cheekbones were visible now, making his face appear longer, like Snape’s face. James had a round face, not fat, but more oval shaped then Harry’s. His hair had also been lighter, with shades of brown in it. His best friend had retained a tan well, making his skin a warmer tone then Harry’s skin ever achieved, even after long hours of Spring Quidditch training. Harry did still have his mother’s eyes, that vibrant emerald. His nose was small like hers had been, but it was thinner, more aristocratic, like Snape’s. Remus’ eyes misted a little at the thoughts of the deceased Marauder and his wife. He shook his head, clearing away the comparison.
Chairs were conjured and the ever-increasing group settled in to wait. Severus sat like a statue, never moving from Harry side, as the hours slipped by.
Though Harry did not regain consciousness, his body and aura both began to show the effects of the Venefici Sopor. He seemed to grow before their eyes. He gained at least a couple of inches each hour, for the first six hours. Hermione cringed inwardly at the pain Harry would have to endure once he awoke. Her own Venefici Sopor had lasted 19 hours. She gained only 4 inches in height and her bones ached for a week.
His body changed in other ways, as well. His shoulders gained width, his face sharpened, and his hair grew. He was changing as they watched. He looked like a completely different person, older and more mature. His aura, which had settled into the molten state, calmed as the hours passed. The colors that flicked through it seemed to appear less often. The golden light that glowed brightly was fading as well, lightening to a pale gold, shot through with pearl. Snape could feel the magic of it pricking and probing at his own aura, which was considerably darker.
Every few hours Madam Pomfrey ran a diagnostic spell over the boy. His fever had stopped climbing after the first couple hours. He body grew strong, according to the spell. All the ill effects of Harry’s maltreatment and abuse had simply vanished and yet he remained in the throws of the fever.
Dumbledore paced restlessly across the infirmary floor. The members of the Coven came and went as the time passed, but Ariadne remained close. She hovered over Snape or stared from the window. Never once did she leave for more then a few minutes. She still wore the same torn clothing in which she had returned from Privet Drive, as did Snape. Neither spared one scrap of attention to what they wore, nor how the looked.
They made a frightful pair. Hermione, determined to watch over Harry as best she could, tried to keep her gaze off the two. They were still both spattered in blood. The crimson stains looked even more morbid then they had in the headmaster’s office, due to the fact the both parties were several shades paler with stress and worry. The burning in their eyes remained, but in a muted degree.
About four hours after Hermione’s discovery, the Weasley twins dropped by with their parents. Molly was worried sick after the story told to her by her sons. They were kindly asked to leave several minutes later, Molly crying hysterically and the twins threatening to do violence to Harry’s relatives. Arthur herded his family into the floo with a dazed expression, thanking Dumbledore for the brief visit as he went.
Two days went by in this same quietly frenzied fashion. The house elves brought food at regular intervals. The group snatched naps when they could on the hospital beds. Snape however never moved from his statue-like vigil and, while Severus remained awake, so did Ariadne.
On the morning of the third day, however, something caused Severus to stir from his place. Something had changed. He could feel it.
Slight Cliffy. Please review.
[*I am, writing wise, about three to four chapters ahead of what is posted at any given time. I do this on purpose in case there is a week or w/e I can
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