Destiny Trilogy: The War

Chapter 12: Revelations

Madam Pomfrey had been most displeased with him for running off to look for Fleur after she had specifically told him not to exert himself after administering her Sanguine potion, so Harry had been kept in the Hospital Wing for about a week having nutrient-potions forced down his throat. Kera had also been transferred to a private bed right at the back of the Wing, curtained up to keep out prying eyes even though she had turned back to her human form. He had only been allowed to see her once, and even then she had been too weak to do anything more than look at him through half-closed eyes.

But Madam Pomfrey's annoyance had been nothing compared to Hermione's outrage when she had heard that Harry would have to take his O.W.L.s like everyone else. Harry, on the other hand, had been rather glad to succumb to the mind-numbing before-exam cramming sessions that left him pleasantly exhausted and with his brain too full of complicated spells to transfigure their own hands into palm-fronds and potions to heal broken bones to think about anything else--especially the rather surreal situation that he'd found himself in not two weeks ago.

The exams came and went, and before they knew it, Harry was stumbling beside Ron and Hermione out into the sunny grounds, feeling like he'd just been sapped of all his brain cells but also filled with a great sense of relief.

"Boy did I wish I paid more attention to Percy," Ron grumbled, rubbing his temples. Their last paper had been History of Magic, and funnily enough it had been about the development of standard cauldron thickness.

They flopped down under the shade of a huge tree by the lake, one of the few oaks that had escaped damage by the large fire during the battle. For a long time the Gryffindor trio just sat there, listening to the soothing sound of the lapping water and watching some of the Hufflepuffs helping Professor Sprout tend to the scorched trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"It makes sense now, doesn't it?" Hermione said suddenly. "Dumbledore needed Charlie around because of his experience handling dragons."

Handling a dragon in pain, or a couple of angry dragons descending on me for causing such agony to their daughter?

"Let's go visit Kera," Harry suggested quietly.

*~*~~*~**~*~*~~*

The curtains surrounding her bed rustled. She was tired--incredibly so after completing her O.W.L.s like the rest of her schoolmates even though she had barely gotten better--but she smiled a little when she saw the blond Slytherin boy slip in, obviously trying to avoid Madam Pomfrey.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked as he sat down beside her.

"Thinking up ways to torture Voldemort horribly."

Draco looked at her, surprised and vaguely troubled. "I thought your kind...didn't care about things like that."

"True. Those of the Wild Magic may bear no allegiance to either side. But what he did to Harry directly affects me, and I'm not going to just let it go."

"Is that why it hurt so much for you to heal Potter?" Draco asked. "Because he's on the side of the Light?"

"No," Kera replied, amused at his somewhat archaic use of the word 'light' and the fact that she could almost hear the capital letters in it. "He is my friend; it is natural for me to help him. But nobody can take away another creature's right to die, and that is the Law."

"Potter really has a death wish, doesn't he?" Draco muttered.

"He told me you helped him look for Professor Delacour," Kera said quietly. "Thank you."

Draco just avoided her eyes, staring down at his hands.

"I was the one who let Him in," Draco said abruptly.

He closed his eyes, waiting for her to shout for the nearest professor or just hit him with the first thing she could get her hands on...and he'd be expelled--if Father didn't kill him first. What had he told her that for?

"I know."

He looked up at her in surprise.

"I saw you slip something into Weasley's pocket when you bumped into him."

"And you didn't tell anyone?" Draco asked, his heart almost skipping a beat when she shook her head, even though he didn't show it. If she had seen it, how many others had seen it too?

Madam Pomfrey, apparently having heard their voices, drew opened the curtain, her lips pursed in disapproval. She was about to chase Draco out when she saw that unfamiliar troubled look on his usually indifferent face.

"Fifteen minutes," She said snappily, then left them alone again.

They were silent for a while. Draco's heart was still pounding furiously in his chest. He had really messed up royally this time. He'd been seen putting the portkey in Weasley's pocket, Potter and his friends had made it back safe and sound, and he had fought against the Dark Lord's beast army and saved Potter's sorry ass. And to top it all off, here he was associating with a Gryffindor who wasn't even human.

"Do you have any idea what Father would say about this...about me?" Draco asked despondently.

She hesitated, then placed a hand on his, the oddly comforting gesture of someone not used to giving comfort. A friend, someone who had befriended him for who he was, not something they thought or hoped he would be. He grasped her hand the way a drowning man might clutch at a floating plank, hoping that she knew what she was getting herself into.

*~*~~*~**~*~*~~*

She still pale, but at least she wasn't the exact colour of the bed sheets anymore. Malfoy was already sitting next to her, looking rather upset. Kera looked up towards the door when she heard them approaching, and Draco discreetly let go of her hand. She greeted the boys but merely nodded to Hermione. Malfoy did not leave her side, but simply scowled and ignored them.

Harry sighed. Some things never changed.

They made idle chit-chat for a while, Harry feeling especially awkward. What did you say to the person--well, dragon--who had saved your life?

"I hope you are feeling better, Miss Ladon," Dumbledore said as he came in. "I imagine your friends have some questions for you."

"Ask away," Kera sighed, resigned.

Harry was bursting with questions but he didn't dare ask first. Malfoy had a similar expression on his face.

"Why was I able to understand you?" Harry asked, finally finding his tongue. "I mean...I'm a Parselmouth and everything, but..."

"There are some very strong similarities between a dragon and a serpent, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"Some aquatic dragons don't even have legs and wings," Hermione supplied. Kera rolled her eyes.

"Yes, very good, Miss Granger. As a result, most dragons end up in Slytherin simply by virtue of that fact."

And yet, she got into Gryffindor, Harry frowned.

"I had a little debate with the Sorting Hat about that one," Kera said wryly.

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore smiled. "I heard."

"But the First Task...the Tournament...I couldn't understand the dragons then," Harry said, puzzled.

"I think you're talking about ordinary dragons," Kera explained. "The language I speak is slightly more...human. It's understandable to most serpentine creatures."

"Pythostongue," Dumbledore agreed, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "A human Pythosmouth is even rarer than a Parselmouth."

"And your human form," Hermione ventured. "Is it like your animagus or something?"

"No, the ability is part of me, like my arms and legs are part of me. I'm born with it," Kera said wearily.

"Then why didn't you attend Hogwarts before this?"

"My godfather wouldn't let me," Kera replied, shrugging.

Harry took some time to digest all this information. Did this mean that her parents were no longer alive? Before they could ask anything more, Madam Pomfrey bustled in with a frown on her face.

"The poor girl needs her rest! Out!" Madam Pomfrey said as she shooed them out of the hospital wing.

Malfoy, suddenly realising he was in the company of muggle-borns and muggle-lovers, went off hurriedly, leaving Dumbledore to escort the three Gryffindors to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"You will have to excuse me. There is something else I must ask Professor Snape to do," Dumbledore said, turning to leave.

"But Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said anxiously. "Professor Snape can't pretend to return to You-Kn-...V-vol-voldemort again, can he? I mean, he's been exposed as a spy..."

"Professor Snape never returned to Voldemort, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, his eyes crinkled with amusement.

"But last year...you told him to do something..." Ron protested.

"In your first year, Professor Snape's attempts to stop Quirrell have already exposed his loyalties. I am not in the habit of sending my staff members to their doom."

"Then what..."

"Remember I once told you Professor Trelawney made one other accurate prediction?"

Harry nodded.

"It was the prediction that put you and your parents in great danger, Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "I believe her exact words were: A terrible Darkness is coming for our lands, stronger and more terrible than anything before. The Children of Lughnasadh will be forged together in the strongest of bonds, and the Light shall like the phoenix rise again. But before that there will be a redemption in the form of the greatest and yet most natural of sacrifices, the oldest and simplest of Magicks."

"The love of a mother," Hermione murmured. Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"Voldemort decided he would change the course of fate, so to speak, by destroying all the children born on the 31st of July."

"But there must be hundreds all over the world!" Ron interrupted.

"The Sabbats are times of immense magical power, Mr. Weasley. People born on the Sabbats have a burden of destiny upon their shoulders...not everyone can bear this burden."

"So I was the only one?" Harry asked quietly.

"No."

Harry looked up sharply.

"There is one other girl."

*~*~~*~**~*~*~~*

The door of the hospital wing opened with a bang. Madam Pomfrey frowned, extremely put off, but Kera brightened up when she saw who it was.

"Professor."

Snape looked none the worse for wear, with nothing more than a slight limp. In one hand, he was holding a goblet full of icky-looking murky potion.

"Drink this," he said, handing the goblet to Kera. It didn't taste too bad, and was almost like drinking cold tea.

"Go to sleep," he said, taking the goblet from her and turning to leave.

Kera felt a dull aching in her heart as her eyes followed his retreating form. Was he angry with her? Was he...disappointed?

"Severus?"

Snape turned around. The lines around his face had grown deeper, making him look haggard. His eyes had gone a bit dull, the look of a man who had aged before his time. He looked so tired.

"I'm sorry."

To her surprise, he drew her into his arms. Kera had been under his care since she could remember, but he had never expressed his love or tenderness in anything more than a subtle action. Yet this wasn't exactly...uncomfortable. She buried her head into his shoulder, listening to the soft sound of his breathing. His black robes smelled faintly of ingredients from the potion he had just given her, but not in an unpleasant way. Rosemary, feverfew, agrimony, lavender, chamomile, valerian. And maybe a touch of ginseng. How many times had she sat at his table as a child while he patiently taught her to recognise the smell and taste of these herbs, and learn their properties by heart?

"Foolish child," He didn't say it angrily, but he said it fiercely. "I should never have let you come."

Kera hated the way the pain and self-loathing crept into his voice, hated the way he blamed himself for everything. It's not your fault, she wanted to say, but didn't know if she dared to say it. Or if she had the power to say it.

"It was my choice," she told him.

"But if I hadn't brought you here you wouldn't have had to make that choice."

She remembered the day he had come back for the summer, his face paler then usual and with some strange emotion behind his cold black eyes. The day he had told her about the prophecy and the promise he had made to Dumbledore. The day he had acted as if he was sending his only child to her death as a sacrifice to appease some monster. And in a way, perhaps he had.

"Then it is my destiny."

He stayed with her until she fell asleep in his arms.