Canticum Novum

Chapter 6: God, We've Known Such Grief and Anger

God, we've known such grief and anger

As we've heard your people cry.

We have asked you, "How much longer?"

We have sadly wondered, "Why?"

In this world of so much suffering,

May we hear your word anew:

"I will never leave you orphaned;

I will not abandon you."

Remus slipped into the room, having convinced the nurses to let him visit for five minutes, no more. Harry lay on the stark white sheets, tossing and turning, looking flushed and feverish.

"Harry?" Remus said gently, hurrying to the boy's side and placing a hand on Harry's forehead. He was burning up. "Harry, wake up, please...it's me, it's Remus Lupin..."

"Iter voco..."

Harry mumbled. To Remus, it sounded like gibberish. "Pedem referre iter..."

"Harry, wake up," Remus pleaded, afraid for the boy. "Come on, Harry, wake up..."

Harry tensed beneath Remus's hand, then slowly opened his emerald green eyes. "Dad?" he murmured.

Remus's own eyes filled with tears. "No, Harry. It's me, it's Remus."

"Remus?" Harry repeated, blinking up at him. "I...I'm sorry, I was...confused..."

"It's okay. After what you've just been through, you're entitled to feel confused." Remus pushed Harry's messy black bangs out of his face in a tender, fatherly gesture. "Although I'm not one hundred percent sure what you have just been through. What happened to you?"

Harry winced slightly and shook his head as though trying to clear it. "I...Uncle Vernon had a...bad day at work...and decided it was my fault...and as such...he had to punish me...for it..." He spoke in broken sentences, as though talking was too great a strain on him. He looked pale and exhausted.

Remus wanted to pick Harry up the way he had when the young boy was an infant, to rock him in his arms and tell him it would be all right, to be able to make everything all better. The fact that he couldn't hurt Remus worse than almost anything in the world. "Shh," he soothed. "It'll be okay. We'll call the police or something. You're going to be okay."

Harry spoke with extreme difficulty. "Aunt Petunia?"

Remus guessed what the poor boy was trying to ask. "She's all right. I've been stopping by every day to update and tell her how you are. She was pleased to know you're awake."

Harry managed a weak grin. "Tell her...tell her I...I love her," he managed hoarsely.

"I will, I promise," Remus assured Harry. And he would; he knew how difficult it was for Harry to admit to loving anyone.

"I..." Harry reached up a violently trembling hand and placed it on Remus's. He tried to squeeze Remus's hand, but he was obviously not strong enough. It nearly broke Remus's heart. "I...love you," Harry whispered. "I never...told you..."

"It's okay," Remus said gently, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. "I knew. And... I love you too."

Harry managed a small smile. "I...promised," he gasped out. "Kind of...afraid...not enough...enough time..."

"There's plenty of time, Harry," Remus assured him.

"No...guarantee..." Harry answered, gritting his teeth against obvious pain. Remus watched in agony, unable to do anything to help. "I...sorry..."

"No, no, you haven't done a thing wrong," Remus said firmly, blinking back the tears. "There's nothing for you to apologise for."

Harry closed his eyes for a minute and breathed deeply. "I...Hermione..." he whispered, barely audible. His head lolled to the side as he gasped this out. The slight rise and fall of his chest as he fought for breath was the only thing that told Remus he was still alive.

The Healer on duty gave Remus a nasty look, so he hurried from the room, pausing only to brush Harry's hair out of his eyes once more. Ron was sitting in the hard blue chair, his arms resting on his knees, hands clasped, staring vacantly at the wall. He looked up as Remus came out and stood quickly.

By your grace comes resurrection;

By your love, you cast out fear.

You give strength and sure direction

As we seek to serve you here.

You give comfort to the grieving,

And you bless the ones who mourn.

May we trust in you, believing

Out of chaos, hope is born.

"Where's Hermione?" Remus asked him.

Ron shook his head. "In the cafeteria. I told her in no uncertain terms to get something to eat or she'd waste away into nothing, and I accosted Mum to make sure she does it."

"Hope it works," Remus said, then added without thinking, "Harry will be pretty unhappy if she wastes away."

"How is he?" Ron asked.

"Not good," Remus admitted. "He was having a lot of trouble stringing two words together...and he passed out cold before I left him. I'm really worried about him."

With a sharp pang, Ron remembered the two times he'd heard those phrases before. Harry had said once, when he'd found Mr. Crouch on the ground and the three had been discussing what might have happened to him--when Ron had pointed out that Crouch was stark raving nuts--"He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know who he was and what he wanted to do." And Two-Bit Matthews had told Dally Winston in The Outsiders that Johnny Cade was "Not good...he passed out cold before we left him." Both Johnny and Crouch had died.

Suddenly, something else about Remus's statement hit Ron and he frowned. "Wait...you said he was having trouble talking?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because--" Ron hesitated, then plunged ahead. "Because when he was talking to Hermione, he talked for ten, fifteen minutes in a continuous strain, and that was yesterday...and he's had a lot of sleep in between. What happened to him since Hermione's been in there?"

"Oh, God, he's taken a turn for the worse," Remus breathed. "I was afraid this might happen...and it sounds like a sharp one."

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Ron asked anxiously.

Before Remus could answer, both of them heard an anguished cry of intense pain from the room.

"Harry!" Ron and Remus cried in unison, springing for the door.

"Isn't there a Healer in there?" Ron cried, fumbling with the doorknob. "Damn it, why is this bloody thing locked?"

"There should be," Remus replied. "Move." He whipped out his wand and pointed it at the knob. "Alohomora!"

The door popped open and the two ran for the bed. Harry had stopped crying out and now lay limply on the bed. The Healer was nowhere to be seen.

Hope is ours for, God, you love us!

You have claimed us by your grace.

And through Jesus, you have called us

To bring hope to every place.

In each rescue worker's caring,

In each faithful volunteer,

In each Christian's love and sharing,

God, we glimpse your kingdom here.