Canticum Novum

Chapter 7: God of Grace and God of Glory

God of grace and God of glory,

On Thy people pour Thy power.

Crown Thine ancient church's story,

Bring her bud to glorious flower.

Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,

For the facing of this hour,

For the facing of this hour.

The doctor stepped back and removed his glasses, wiping them on the edge of his hospital robes. "Hmm...most perplexing."

"What's wrong with him?" Remus asked anxiously.

"I cannot speak of this except to the family," the doctor said a little stiffly.

"Bloody hell," Ron exploded. "We are about as much family as he's got. His aunt's the only real family member that does care about him, and she can't get here because she's a Muggle. Just tell us what the hell is wrong with him!"

The doctor stared at Ron in amazement. Finally, he said, "Mr. Potter's spectral, mental, and moral essence seems to have become temporarily disconnected from its physical manifestation."

"What?" Remus asked, his face pale. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ron's heart stopped beating again. "It means," he said, forcing his voice to remain level, "that his spirit--his soul and conscience and pretty much everything that makes him Harry--has stepped out for a breather. It's gone AWOL, MIA. It's taking a temporary leave of absence. Am I right?"

The doctor looked slightly miffed. "Erm...well, yes, as a matter of fact."

Remus collapsed into the chair by Harry's bed, looking stricken. "Will he be all right?" he whispered fearfully.

"I cannot be certain," the doctor answered. "In circumstances such as this one, the balance is incredibly delicate. Mr. Potter's subconscious essence may continue to distance itself from its physical manifestation on a permanent basis, or it may decide to return to the physical realm at any time. One can never be certain."

Seeing Remus's bemused and stricken face, Ron translated, "He says that he doesn't know. Harry might come back or he might not. No way of knowing."

The colour drained out of Remus's face. He reached out a trembling hand to touch Harry's face...then turned and fled the room.

Lo! the hosts of evil 'round us,

Scorn Thy Christ, assail His ways.

From the fears that long have bound us,

Free our hearts to faith and praise.

Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,

For the living of these days,

For the living of these days.

Ron started to follow him, then froze, thinking of Hermione. She'd be on her way back from the meal now...there was no way he was letting some strange doctor or Healer tell her what had happened. He hurried to intercept her.

He hadn't gone far--perhaps two feet down the hall--when he bumped smack into her. "Ron!" she said in surprise. "Sorry."

Ron grabbed her shoulders and held her steady, looking intently into her eyes. "Hermione, I have to tell you this, because it's really, really important. You can't scream and you can't panic. It's very important that you not do either one of those things."

Hermione paled. "What's wrong, Ron?"

Ron took a deep breath. "Hermione...Harry took a turn for the worse. A dramatic turn for the worse. His...his spirit or whatever--whatever was walking that broken road while his body was here--is gone. It's left his body. The doctors don't know if it's permanent or just temporary. He says there's no way of knowing for sure."

Hermione trembled. Her whole body was shaking. Suddenly, she collapsed in Ron's arms, sobbing hysterically.

Ron, feeling rather uncomfortable, patted her hair awkwardly. "It'll--it'll be okay," he said. "He'll be fine..." But he could tell that she didn't believe him, and in total honesty he wasn't sure he believed himself.

"I have to do something," Hermione sobbed into his shoulder. "I have to help him...there must be something I can do..."

Any normal, sane person would have said "You can be there for him" or "There's no way you can help him, just wait", but Ron had taken temporary leave of his senses. Having one's best friend collapse in some sort of fit and be hovering between life and death, leaning more towards the death side of things, tends to affect a person like that.

"There is a spell," he said slowly. Hermione raised her head and looked up at him hopefully. "But it's extraordinarily complicated and stupefyingly dangerous..."

"I don't care," Hermione said fiercely. "What's it called?"

Ron hesitated. It would probably be a stupid idea, telling her...she might go off and get herself killed, and Harry would never forgive Ron if he let Hermione get hurt or killed.

"Tell me, Ron," Hermione said, her voice carrying every ounce of anger and fierceness she could probably muster.

Ron sighed. "It's called the Living Death, a kind of deep trance. It puts the person in a state between life and death--in a kind of a coma, kind of what Harry's in right now. People have spoken of near-death experiences, seeing dead friends and relatives...and now that I think on it, they've talked of a road too. It might be our only way to wherever Harry's...essence...has gone to."

Hermione stared at Ron in slight awe, then nodded resolutely. "Right. I'll go start looking up the incantation."

"What?

No, you can't," Ron said, startled. Somehow, despite how he knew she felt about Harry, he hadn't actually expected her to try to do the spell. "Hermione, it's incredibly dangerous and..."

"I heard you the first time," Hermione snapped. "It's not going to stop me. I'm doing the spell."

"No!"

Ron grabbed her shoulders and shook her a little in frustration, trying to make her see. "I am not going to try to explain to Harry when he wakes up that I let you do this, that I let you get hurt, that I let you die. He'd never forgive me."

"Ron, what if he doesn't wake up?" Hermione cried. Ron heard the barely veiled threat of tears in her voice as she spoke. "What if he lies in that...that coma or whatever...forever? What if he dies, Ron? No. I won't let that happen. If there's a way I can save him, I'm going to do it."
"No, you're not," Ron said firmly. "It's too dangerous. I won't let you--and if Harry was here, neither would he."

"Ron--"

Ron cut her off. "I'll do it."

Hermione gaped at him in astonishment. "Ronald Weasley, what on Earth makes you think I'm going to let you do this instead of me? I am not someone who needs to be protected like a child. I am sixteen years old and fully capable of making my own decisions and taking care of myself. Besides, I'm better at spells than you are."

"All the more reason for me to be the one to go under. The caster has to be fully conscious and aware of what he's doing or things can go horribly wrong." All of a sudden, the awful truth struck Ron like a drunken troll. "Oh, Hermione, we're just fooling ourselves. We can't do this spell anyway. We're underage! It'd be a serious violation of the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Magic. And it doesn't count as a life-saving exercise because there's no guarantee Harry would have necessarily died if we hadn't performed it, so we can't get off on that defence. We'd likely get expelled from Hogwarts!"

Two bright red spots appeared on Hermione's cheek. "Which would you rather be, Ron? Expelled from Hogwarts with Harry alive and safe, or sitting at Hogwarts in classes with Harry in a coma--or worse, dead?"

Ron stared at Hermione in frank astonishment. For him, there was no choice. After a few seconds, a huge smile split his face.

"What's so funny?" Hermione snapped.

"Nothing," Ron said, still smiling. "It's just...if I ever had any doubts that you loved Harry, I don't anymore."

"Why not?" Hermione demanded.

"Because I've never known you actually willing to get expelled for anything or anyone."

Hermione made a brave attempt to smile. "So, are we going to do this or not?"

"No." Ron held up a hand to stave off Hermione's protests. "We're not going to cast the spell. I'll get one of my brothers to do it."

"Why?"

"For one thing, they're older than I am and they've all graduated, so it'll be legal. Two, I can trust them to keep a secret. And three, that way I can go with you."

It was Hermione's turn to be astonished. "You...you actually want to come with me?"

"Hey, if you're determined to go, the least I can do is go with you and keep an eye on you." Ron wore a look of grim determination. "Besides, he's my best friend too. Come on, let's go find George...he should be around here somewhere."

~~~

Cure Thy children's warring madness,

Bend our pride to Thy control.

Shame our wanton selfish gladness,

Rich in things and poor in soul.

Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,

Lest we miss Thy kingdom's goal,

Lest we miss Thy kingdom's goal.

"No! Absolutely not! Ron Weasley, do you know what Mum will do to me if I let you do this?"

"You aren't letting us do anything, George," Ron retorted. "We're doing it anyway. You'll get in a lot more trouble if you don't help us."

"Why?" George asked, but Ron could tell he was weakening.

"Because if you don't perform the spell, one of us will have to," Ron answered. "And we're both going under. So if you don't cast the spell and I do, and something goes wrong, we could both die. And since you know about it, you'll get in trouble."

George glared at Ron. "You had this worked out before you came up to me."

Ron just smirked. "Whenever you're ready, George."

George blanched. "What? You want to do this now?"

"Why not? The longer we wait, the more likely it is that someone will stop us before we can get going."

George shook his head no, then said, "All right. Sit down 'cause I'm not having you falling on the floor." He glanced at Hermione. "You'd better sit down too."

Ron sat on the chair on one side of Harry's bed. Hermione walked over calmly--probably far more calmly than she actually felt--and sat on the bed next to Harry. George started to comment, but Ron gave him a Look and he quickly shut his mouth. Drawing his wand, he drew a sort of circle around Ron and Hermione and barked out the incantation. Neither teenager listened to what it was or how it sounded. Both had only one thought on their minds: Will this work? The question swirled in their head like a ceaseless litany until both of them, as one, blacked out. George concentrated on keeping the spell going so he wouldn't have to notice Ron slump in his chair and Hermione collapse across Harry's chest.

Set our feet on lofty places,

Gird our lives that they may be,

Armoured with all Christ-like graces,

In the fight to set men free.

Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,

That we fail not man nor Thee,

That we fail not man nor Thee.

Save us from weak resignation,

To the evils we deplore.

Let the search for Thy salvation,

Be our glory evermore.

Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,

Serving Thee whom we adore,

Serving Thee whom we adore.