The Secret Magic Of Potions And Daggers

Chapter Eleven

“Why are you taking the train, why not use the watch?” Harry looked at her inquisitively walking beside her as she left the room and went down the hall. She was quiet until they had exited the basement doors, stepping into the light of dawn.

“Because we need to go somewhere else first.” Carsy, standing by the hedge, caught her attention. Genevieve held her bag open and the house elf jumped in. “Now Harry, do you think your Aunt and Uncle would be willing to give us a lift into London?” Harry thought not, but had wanted to see the look on their faces since the night before and so led the way two streets down to Privet Drive.

“It is number four, there.” Harry pointed.

“I remember now.” She let Harry go first up the walk and ring the bell. After a few minutes a sleepy eyed Petunia clinging to her bath robe with her hair pinned up in curlers answered the door. When she saw Harry she was jolted awake and spoke severely.

“What are you doing here, boy. Did you finally get yourself expelled from that school of yours? Get inside before the neighbors see you. Imagine, coming here dressed like…” Harry just stood there but Petunia stopped yelling when she saw Genevieve limping slowly up the walk behind Harry.

“Pardon the intrusion Ma’am,” Genevieve said politely, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, your aunt offered for us to get inside, out of the view of her neighbors. It would be rude to refuse.” Harry looked up at Genevieve and enjoyed the smug look on her face as they crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them.

“Petunia I presume,” Genevieve continued. Her manor reminded Harry of the many verbal cartwheels she and Sir. Nicholas often preformed. “Lily told me so much about you, but we have met before. Right before her wedding wasn’t it.” Petunia still stood by the door and nodded.

“You haven’t aged a bit,” Petunia stuttered.

“That is very kind of you to say.” Genevieve thanked her.

“I mean it, not even a little.” Harry was inwardly amazed at the apprehension Genevieve’s mere presence aroused in his Aunt.

“You flatter me,” Genevieve pretended the statement was meant as a complement yet again. “I don’t wish to take up much of your time, but young Mr. Potter and I need to use your telephone to call a cab. As much fun as it would be to relive old times we need to be off to London.” Genevieve smiled but Petunia gasped, probably fearing what her neighbors and the cab driver would think seeing these two the way they were dressed.

“The phone is in there. But wouldn’t you like to change into more comfortable clothes?”

“That is very considerate of you. I’m sure I have a traveling cloak in my bag. Have you got one in your suitcase Harry?” This was obviously not what Petunia had in mind.

“Don’t bother calling the taxi, get in the car before it gets too light and I’ll take you to the closest underground station.” She ran upstairs quickly and Genevieve gave Harry a knowing wink and a smile. They heard rushed voices upstairs while Petunia tried to explain the situation to Vernon, as well as her protesting that he go downstairs, but he bumbled down them anyway.

“What do you think you’re doing,” he yelled purple faced.

“Nice to see you again,” she greeted him. “We were just passing by and wanted to telephone a cab when your generous wife offered us a lift. Don’t worry, she won’t be long.” She steered Harry out the door before he could laugh at the sputtering noises coming from Uncle Vernon. They got to the car before Aunt Petunia and found it locked.

“Harry, would you please unlock the door.” Harry grinned at the opportunity to use magic here and pulled his wand out.

“No” Petunia screamed, running down the driveway while Genevieve and Harry stood by the car. She got in front slamming the door shut popped the lock on the back seat.

“You are not to use magic around here, boy. And you…,” she turned toward Genevieve, “stay away from my family.” She pulled out of the driveway and sped out of the village, toward London.

“I am very sorry for the inconvenience and appreciate your help.” Genevieve sat back and pulled from her bag a bar of chocolate and a small box. Harry peeked in the bag expecting to see Carsy in there, but to his surprise it was completely empty. At the next stop light Genevieve leaned forward to speak quietly to Petunia. “Before your sister died, she wanted you to have this.” Genevieve handed Petunia the box, but she dropped it like hot metal, ignoring her passengers. Harry fingered the bag and whispered to Genevieve,

“Why is it empty?” But Genevieve just pressed her finger to her lips, smiling with her eyes.

“Lily said that it is very valuable, but couldn’t find the right occasion to send it,” Genevieve indicated the box now riding shotgun. As they approached the closest Underground station the car stopped for a train.

Petunia reached for the box and opened it cautiously. Harry could see it flash in the light, realizing that this was what Genevieve had been fingering after the trial.

A large, solid gold oval locket on a heavy gold rope chain that snaked its way around the bottom of the box accompanied a small pair of earrings, and a note. Petunia read the note until the cars behind her honked because the train had long since passed. She pulled off the side of the road and opened the locket. Each half held a black and white photograph, that didn’t move, as well as a swatch of blonde hair. Harry noticed that in one picture the locket hung on the neck of a beautiful young woman. The other photograph was of a man dressed in a black suit with a kind smile. For the first time Harry could ever remember Petunia’s heart was touched and she began to cry.

“Thank you Petunia, we can walk from here.” Genevieve opened the door and held it for Harry as he got out. Petunia then opened her door and still clutching the locket surprised Harry by giving Genevieve a hug. Then she turned to him smiling, put the necklace around her long neck and hugged him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered before getting back into the car. Harry and Genevieve rode the Underground amid stares from the other passengers getting off at King’s Cross station.

Genevieve led Harry directly and silently to platform 9, and they disappeared together onto platform 9 ¾ before she said another word, which was to the ticket agent. “Two tickets please.” She passed him several sickles she retrieved from her seemingly empty bag. Harry watched the train pull into the station. It was not, however the Scarlet Hogwarts Express train he usually rode. Rather its sign read London-Hogsmeade 405. Great billows of steam rose from beneath the engines wheels as it halted to let off and take on passengers. Harry found them a compartment near the back and put the luggage on, then helped Genevieve aboard. Genevieve opened her bag and Carsy jumped out as the train pulled away from the platform. Carsy’s large eyes searched every inch of the compartment before Genevieve spoke freely though with great solemnity.

“Sirius has been hurt. He is at the Potter house and we need to get him, as well as a few supplies, before we go back to Hogwarts. Hagrid’s fear before he left has me a bit unsettled so we must prepare ourselves for anything. In the mean time, you and I need to sleep. Carsy, please wake us up before we get to Godric’s Hollow.” She then pulled a pillow out of her bag for Harry and a metal cube, which she opened and dissolved into.

“Mr. Harry Potter Sir,” Carsy squeaked into his ear. “It’s time to wake up.” Harry lay across three seats, not quite aware of where he was. “Young Sir.” Harry began to remember what had just transpired with the trial and that he was on a train to his ancestor’s home and sat up quickly.

“Are we there?” He asked rubbing his eyes and looking around the compartment. “Where’s Genevieve.”

“She will be right back, young sir.” As she said so Genevieve slid open the door and stepped inside. Harry was amazed at how refreshed she looked and that none of her limp remained.

“Good, you’re up. The conductor said we will arrive within a few minutes. Gather your things. As soon as the train stops we must run, there isn’t much time.” She picked up the pillow Harry had used and put it into her bag, while Harry fiddled with the latch on his suitcase. The brakes of the train screeched and Genevieve grabbed the suitcase and put it in her sack as well. Before the train had even come to a complete stop Genevieve leapt from it and onto the platform.

Harry and Carsy jumped as well and ran after her retreating cloak. At the edge of town they found Genevieve waiting for them before entering a dense forest. She jumped from stone to stone, ran along paths and ducked behind trees until Harry wasn’t sure where he was going and would have been lost if Carsy hadn’t been along side him. Almost out of nowhere though, just around another bunch a trees, a large mansion appeared. At first it was hard to tell where the forest ended and the house began until Harry realized there was no division. The trees grew through the windows and long entangling vines covered the walls. Genevieve waited for them at the door which had been pushed open by trees and now revealed little more than a crawl space entrance to the home. Genevieve and then Harry and Carsy climbed inside the dark rooms. Harry took a moment for his eyes to adjust but Genevieve and Carsy pushed through the vines growing inside the house creating a path for him to follow. Harry marveled at the immensity of the entrance hall as well as the décor.

As he meandered through the house he was distracted by a large portrait, almost untouched by the greenery that had overtaken the rest of the house. In it an elderly gentleman was sleeping, though his hair had no trace of gray his age was revealed by the wrinkles in his face and hands. He was sitting in a large, high backed chair resting his head backwards and snoring softly.

From a room to the left of him he could hear Genevieve pushing furniture around and followed the sound. When he found her she had just finished pulling open a large bookcase that had hid a secret library. Large books with faded titles lined the shelves. In the room was a large wooden conference table surrounded by twelve chairs. About it books and papers were strewn. Through the center of the table ran a crack originating from a tree that had grown through the middle of it. Other than that the space was quite clean, except for the fireplace. Carsy picked up a dust pail and broom to clean it up but ceased abruptly with Genevieve’s command “not now.” From behind the fire pokers she extracted a broken white brick that perfectly matched the materials used in making the fireplace. For some strange reason Harry seemed to know what to do with it.

“That goes up there,” he pointed above the mantle where there was a small gap in the brickwork. Genevieve spun around impressed.

“You remember?”

“I’m not sure, it just feels familiar.” Even Carsy was a bit surprised, but Genevieve just smiled and handed him the brick. He put it in the hole, where it fit perfectly with a click. Beside the fireplace another hidden passage revealed itself behind a bookcase.

“How many secret passages and rooms does this place have,” Harry asked astounded.

“More than even I know about,” Genevieve answered, pulling the bookcase door open.

“And that is saying something” Carsy added jokingly.

The door now open revealed a smaller room bare of any furnishing, painted stark white. No shrubberies dared venture into this room so the only color in the room was the dirt the three of them tracked into the room.

Curled in the corner lay Sirius, holding his side, a small pool of blood beside him staining the white floor. Harry ran to him, while Genevieve searched in her bag for a potion.

“Sirius,” she spoke to him gently though he was unresponsive. “We came as quickly as we could. Harry, please hold up his head.” Harry slid his leg under Sirius’ head and Genevieve slowly poured a golden slimy fluid down his throat. “No worries, you will be just fine now.” She continued to offer words of comfort as she bound the wound on his side and waited for the potion to take effect.

Nearly ten minutes passed before the first flutter of his eyes. Five minutes afterward he could sit up, a few more and he could speak.

“Thank you.” He coughed.

“You are most welcome. What happened?” Genevieve asked offering him more of the potion. He drank some before continuing.

“I forgot about Old Man Potter’s traps. I got within arms reach of those scrolls but was sucked into here before Carsy could stop me. I presume the trial turned out in your favor.” Sirius assumed.

“Mostly. I escaped death and Azkaban, but it was a close one. They put me on probation on threat of death if I break it. But the better news is yours.”

“Really?” Sirius smiled. Harry couldn’t help but break it to Sirius himself.

“They believe Wormtail is Pettigrew. You have been cleared.” Harry cheered, as did Sirius. Genevieve brought the conversation to a more serious note however.

“Sirius, I believe the death eaters are going to attack Hogwarts very soon.”

“How do you know?” Sirius asked.

“I read it in Hagrid’s fears. The time has come for some drastic action.”

“But what about your probation?” Harry asked. “You told them you were going to go back to America.”

* * * * *

Genevieve moved through the house as though the fifteen years separated from it never existed. Down cracked marble staircases and through barely passable hallways they traveled with such haste Harry was not able to ask where they were going, until they stood outside a heavily armored door.

“Where are we?” Harry panted.

“My old room.” Genevieve glowed with seeing it again.

“James would have given most anything to get inside here.” Sirius laughed.

“I know. A girl’s room is a reflection of who she is, constantly evolving as she does.” She smirked while turning the key in the door. When she swung it forward torches on each wall ignited. Contained in the room were several motifs cleverly interwoven. First into view was an elegant wardrobe, with slim lines and golden handles. On the far wall antique chairs and side tables faced a modern chase lounge. But the wall by the door was the one most interesting to Genevieve, and when Harry saw it he knew why. It was covered with hanging swords, daggers and various knives of all description. Sirius chuckled when he saw it.

“What does this say about who you are? I bet the ministry doesn’t know about this.”

“If they did they wouldn’t have let me off so easy,” she laughed back pulling a long thin sword off the wall. “Choose your weapon.” Sirius swung several broad swords until he found one that suited him. Harry approached the wall in apprehension, which Genevieve sensed.

“I hope you won’t need to use one of these, but we had better be prepared. You may want one of those,” she pointed to several shorter swords. “Their light and fast but powerful. Grab a few daggers from above them as well.” She pulled a whet stone and cloth out of a drawer and began to sharpen and polish the swords. Harry strapped on the sword as well as a smaller dagger in his sleeve.

Genevieve then pulled a small jar of the illumination liquid out of her bag, and poured half of it into a basin. Sirius dipped his sword tip into it and Harry did the same with his weapons, as did Genevieve. After they had finished arming themselves and were about to leave Genevieve grabbed one more dagger, a small one with an ivory handle. She put it into a wooden casing that had four prongs, pulled her hair into a bun and fastened it with the dagger. Then, without a word they ran up a flight of stairs to a well lit arboretum whose roof had long since collapsed. Genevieve looked around her a bit lost, but Sirius took over. Under the floor board he unearthed a large bundle wrapped in leather. After opening it Harry was amazed to see it contained broomsticks unlike any he’d seen before. They were thin and lightweight, though made of cherry wood. Each bound its straight twigs together with leather straps, and their tips were carved with separate names for each. Sirius turned each over so their names shone in the light and stood by one with the engraving, Hercules. Instead of calling it to his hand with the word ‘up’, however he called it by its name. Genevieve chose one named Moranda and similarly it obeyed when called by its name. Harry spotted one named Pendragon, and it too complied.

“Hogwarts is just north of here. If the barrier has fallen then we will be able to get through. If not there are friends of mine who can help us. Our goal, if the death eaters are attacking is to get as much of this Illumination Liquid on or in them as possible. It will display their guilt to themselves and others and prevent them from hiding beneath their hoods. Once they realize their anonymity is gone, they will disperse, give up, or fight harder. I only hope it’s the first two.”

“Who can get us through the barrier if it is still up,” Harry asked cautiously.

“Ghosts,” she answered. “A person can pass through the barrier if they are inside a ghost.”

“I almost hope it’s already down,” Harry shivered just thinking about purposely getting within a ghost.

“No, you don’t.” Genevieve sighed. “It’s not far, follow me.” She took off straight up with Carsy hanging on her back followed by the others. Harry was dumbfounded with how well his broom handled.

‘Unless I’m imagining things’, he thought to himself, ‘this handles better than my Firebolt’. He tested the brooms capabilities by speeding up, passing Sirius and Genevieve and then looping them both before flying beside Sirius. Genevieve tried to maintain the solemnity with which she had carried out the preparations for battle but could not help but break into laughter. She looped back to fly next to Harry and yelled,

“I think you fly that broom better than your father.” Harry felt proud. “How about we go kick the death eaters tails right out of that forest?” She and Harry laughed aloud and pushed their brooms even faster.

Harry realized the barrier must have been dispelled only when Hogwarts loomed into view without them having to pass through it with ghosts. But he would rather stand in a ghost for an hour than see what was before him. Two giants doing battle on the Quidditch field wiped out half the stands in one blow. A large woman giant punched an even larger man sending him crashing down on more of the seating as well as landing on top of the three Quidditch goal posts on that side. It was nearing sunset and the forest looked like a city skyline, strewn with lanterns, fairies and ghosts who gave off their lights in an attempt to slow down the death eaters. The Dark Lord’s followers were easily recognizable in their hooded long cloaks and wands out. Though Harry could only see them through the canopy of trees when he flew over them and they appeared to be isolated in the deeper recesses of the forest. Harry couldn’t help but wish that Aragog and his band of giant spiders would grab them.

As they swooped lower towards the castle Harry caught a close look at the lanterns. Instead of fire they were filled with Illumination Liquids and were stationed every few square feet in the forest. When they landed on the green they met Dumbledore accompanied by the teachers and Elden Eldrich with a few villagers standing guard.

“At your service Headmaster,” she bowed before him,

“It is good to see you well and ready. There are but few of us willing or trained for combat and the ghosts tell me the Death Eaters are getting closer.”

“They will not get to the castle,” Genevieve vowed drawing her sword, then with such purpose that crowded out all other thoughts she ran into the forest, side by side with Sirius. The band of the villagers found their bravery and joined them.

“Harry, please go to your common room with the other students.” Dumbledore instructed him. Harry started to protest but then got an idea and flew up to the common room window.

“What is that,” Morgain screamed from inside, the tension among the students was justifiably high.

“It’s Harry,” Ron recognized him and opened the window. “You should have stayed in London, Harry.”

“No Ron, this is just where I want to be. Well, not exactly.” He ran up to the dormitory and began to rummage through his trunk.

“What are you doing?” Ron had pursued him.

“I’m going to help them,” he answered pulling out his invisibility cloak and wrapping it around himself. He opened the window and remounted his broom.

“Harry, that is suicide.” Ron protested.

“No Ron, this is life,” and he pulled up the hood and took off through the window.

Harry flew into the canopy of trees and landed softly in the branches. All around him were the liquid lanterns and no one in sight. Thinking of what he could do from up here he pulled out his wand and summoned to him several small rocks from the ground. He sat and waited quietly until he heard rustling leaves beneath him. Quietly Harry flicked his wand sending a rock toward the lantern above the Death Eater. It crashed into the glass splattering him with the potion. Instantly the Death Eaters skin glowed so that his face and hands could be seen through his robe. He screamed in agony trying to brush off the potion but ultimately ran away from the castle, though not in the direction from which he had come.

‘Wow’, Harry thought to himself. ‘Genevieve wasn’t kidding’. The screams of the first Death Eater had attracted five more to Harry’s hiding place. As silently as before he banished another of his rocks toward a second lantern and these, like the first, ran away shrieking. Harry leapt from tree to tree banishing Death Eaters in this fashion until the chink of metal on metal caught his attention. Harry flew in the direction of the noise and perched atop the branches. Below Genevieve and Sirius battled encircling Death Eaters with swords and wands. Spells blazed through the air toward Genevieve, which she reflected away with her sword.

Sirius hurled spells back at them, but with little effect. Harry floated down, picked up a lantern and floated back up. After unscrewing the lid, he poured out the contents on every Death Eater who came in range. The odds better in their favor Sirius sliced through one follower of the Dark Lord and a few sword swishes from Genevieve later they traveled deeper into the forest unhindered.

Harry was proud of what he had done, dropping the now empty jar, until he looked down and realized that he was no longer invisible. The Illumination Liquid had gotten into his hands which now glowed, and consequently he was visible against the darkening sky. He pulled off his invisibility cloak and tucked it into his belt flying back toward the castle. But hexes flew through the air. Harry dodged a good number of them but couldn’t get away from them all, and one curse in particular sent him crashing through the tree branches and onto the forest floor.

Harry drew his wand in one hand and his sword in the other, and began to dart through the trees toward the castle. Out of breath and strength Harry leaned against a tree, heaving.

To his left he heard the voice he had hoped never to encounter again. Its serpent-like hiss was giving battle orders.

“Once the way is clear I will show Dumbledore I am the most powerful wizard.” It cackled.

“There has been more resistance than we anticipated, Master,” Voldemort’s companion said apologetically. “There is magic in these woods we do not understand. It has made our best men flee when a glowing sap touches them. But have no fear, we will conquer.”

“Of course we will,” Voldemort demanded harshly. “I must have Hogwarts.” The voices moved closer to Harry, who held his breath. “What is that?” Voldemort questioned. Harry’s glowing hands had given him away and before he could run long cords flew from Voldemort’s wand and bound him to the tree he had hid behind. “Is it one of my cowardly followers, running away,” Voldemort hissed coming to inspect his catch. “No,” he morbidly cheered. “It is the brave Harry Potter.” Voldemort spat Harry’s last name into his face and smiled wickedly. Voldemort’s companion shrunk back at the sight of Harry. Surveying Harry’s wand and sword strapped to his side Voldemort cackled and slipped them out of the ropes. “It seems I remember something like this before Harry. But this time, I assure you, chivalry is dead.” Voldemort raised his own wand.

“crucio,”

Harry’s body convulsed against the ropes that bound him and howled as pain shot through every part of his body. Worst of all was faintly hearing Voldemort’s laughing, morosely enjoying the pain he inflicted. Just as suddenly as the pain started it stopped, leaving Harry numb and weak.

“I don’t think I will kill you just yet. You may be useful alive.” Voldemort whistled bringing down from the treetops a barn owl. He scrawled a letter, attached it to the owl’s leg and instructed it to deliver the letter to Dumbledore. Harry groaned, wondering what Dumbledore would think of him sneaking out to join the fray. Voldemort left the Death Eater to guard him while returning to safety deeper in the forest. An hour past and the sun, now set, could not help give them light. Harry stood in the dark, tethered to the tree, his attempts at conversation with the Death Eater falling on deaf ears.

Dully and then more pronounced the sound of clanking steel inched toward them. Harry yelled out, “Genevieve, Sirius,” over here. Into a view came Sirius fighting sword to sword with a very persistent Death Eater. Seconds later Genevieve also pushed back her opponent into the small clearing in front of Harry. Sirius halted for a moment when he saw Harry’s position but could not break away from his current fight, nor could Genevieve. They pushed and swung and scraped, but their rivals were also very skilled with the blades they wielded. Genevieve swung a heavy blow to her foes shoulder, temporarily knocking him off balance. In that split second she reached into her hair, pulled out the dagger she had hidden there and hurled it through the air. It found its mark as it plunged straight into the chest of the Death Eater guarding Harry.

As the fighting grew near in front, Voldemort slithered up from behind. He untied Harry from the tree but keeping him bound carried him over his shoulder deeper into the trees. Harry struggled against his bonds, still weak from the crucio curse. His thoughts raced faster than his heart until they collapsed on an idea. Old magic didn’t need wands, just an intense focus of the mind. He controlled his breathing and began to think. He’d done some magic before he knew he was a wizard, and even inflated Aunt Marge without aid of a wand. If ever there was a need for such powers, it was now. Harry concentrated, pushing out all other thoughts, focusing only on the ropes. Voldemort jostled his load and as he did so Harry felt the ropes loosen. Struggling and focusing against them once more Harry slipped his arms out. He reached into his sleeves and extracted the small dagger hidden there. He looked at its glow for a moment, then, steeling up his nerve with more deep breaths jammed it into Voldemort’s back with as much force as he could muster.

Voldemort stumbled forward dropping Harry, as well as Harry’s wand and sword. He shimmied out of the ropes, grabbed his wand and sword and rushed toward the castle. Harry heard a loud bang behind him, and turned to look only for a moment. Voldemort, spread on the ground bleeding had sent in the air the Dark Mark. Death Eaters, no longer interested in fighting, ran toward their master not noticing Harry going the other way. When Harry could see the Herbology greenhouses he let out a sigh of relief and ran the rest of the way to where Dumbledore stood as the last barrier before the castle.

“Harry,” he exclaimed. “Explain yourself!”

“I stabbed Voldemort,” Harry coughed the words between his heavy breathing.

“Where?”

“In the back,”

“Where in the forest?” Dumbledore asked urgently. Harry pointed and Dumbledore motioned for two of the wizards standing near him to investigate.

“The Death Eaters are leaving.” Harry informed him. Dumbledore looked past Harry to Nearly Headless Nick who floated toward him.

“The enemy is retreating. Voldemort was seriously injured. Three villagers are dead, the rest are only wounded.”

“Thank you for your report. It seems Mr. Potter delivered the last blow, but was still out against orders.” His voice was severe and Harry shrank from the disappointment and anger Dumbledore directed toward him. “Please direct these men to those who are injured.” Dumbledore asked Nearly Headless Nick indicating more villagers behind him. v “I’m afraid that is not all Sir,” Nick continued. “Genevieve was injured as well as,” Sir Nicholas gulped, “Sirius Black.”

“Direct us to them as well,” Dumbledore instructed. Harry tried to follow the men going to retrieve the injured but was held back by Dumbledore.

“I dare say you’ve had enough of that forest.”

“But”

“No, deliver yourself to the hospital wing immediately.” Harry didn’t dare cross his Headmaster now and walked into the castle. As the adrenaline rush subsided Harry realized that he was not only exhausted but had a cut by his wrist that was bleeding from when he had drawn his dagger. When he got to the hospital wing he collapsed from fatigue and loss of blood before Madame Pomfrey could offer him a bed, and she carried him the rest of the way.

“Harry, oh dear boy. You are alright.” Harry awoke to his name being called and his body being picked up.

“Please put him down, he needs rest,” Madame Pomfrey squeaked. Harry looked up into the eyes of his Godfather, who sat there rocking him.

“Harry, I thought you were dead.” He continued, relieved and overjoyed.

Harry climbed out of Sirius’ embrace to find his glasses. Sirius wore one of the standard robes Madame Pomfrey issued to her patients, but Harry was still in his robes from the night before. He looked at his hands, grateful they no longer glowed.

“Dumbledore is on his way to see both of you,” Madame Pomfrey eyed Sirius Black suspiciously. “You may want to clean yourself up before he does.” Harry was too sore to move much so just got back under the covers and Sirius sat on his own bed.

“What happened?” Sirius asked Harry, though it was Dumbledore who answered.

“Mr. Potter, in his zeal to help, was captured by Voldemort, after which I received a ransom. Somehow he managed to stab him and get away.” Dumbledore apparently still carried some of the disappointment from last night. But his face soon softened. “Harry, you can’t keep risking your life like that. My old heart could not bare to lose you.” Dumbledore smiled and Harry hung his head in apology. “Genevieve will take longer that either of you to heal, but the ghosts tell me she will be well within the week.” Harry let out a sigh of relief, and soon fell back to sleep after Dumbledore and Sirius left to speak privately.

A week later, Harry wandering the lawns between classes, spotted Genevieve lying on the now fully grown grass.

“Genevieve,” Harry hollered. She looked up alarmed at first, and then went back to watching clouds. “I’m so glad you are better now,” Harry beamed.

“And I you. I heard from the ghosts what happened. I’m proud of you.” She sighed.

“You have to leave now, don’t you?” Harry guessed what she was thinking.

“Probably.” She answered. Through the grass soft foot falls went unnoticed.

“Can I persuade you to stay?” Sirius Black asked, startling them both. Harry shielding his eyes against the sun, looked up to see Sirius in dress robes. Genevieve noticed his apparel also and transformed her clothes to match as she stood up. “May I have this dance?” He offered his arm with a bow.

“Certainly good sir,” she flipped a music disk into the air to accompany their dancing on the green. Harry watched as they moved further down the lawns. Then from behind him, he heard a joyful laugh. It was Morgain.

“What are you laughing at,” he smiled.

“It looks like you may get a god-father and a god-mother” she teased pointing to the dancing pair. “And a fairy god-mother at that.” The two of them laughed skipping and chasing each other back to the castle for class.