Restitution

"Restitution"

by Paracelsus

Chapter 15: Refocused Energies

The dragon keepers of Awamotu were beset by danger, and at their wits' end. Their charges had grown increasingly irritable for the last fortnight, but with effort the keepers had been able to maintain order. Now tonight the Opaleyes were suddenly in a frenzy, as though an invisible hand were jabbing them with sharp red-hot pokers.

Currently the keepers were trying to keep a dozen of the great monsters corralled in a clearing near the ranger station - circling on their brooms, in unison they threw Stunning Spells at the nearest dragon. It shook its head, barely affected, and opened its jaws menacingly. "Duck!" cried one of the keepers, and they scattered as a gout of scarlet flame jetted through their midst.

"This isn't working!" called A.C., as she tried to maneuver in front of a young hatchling. "Everyone prepare to use a Conjunctivitis Curse! That should slow them down!"

"No!!" another voice shouted. Charlie appeared out of the twilight, shrugging into a shirt. He sprinted over to a spot below A.C. and waved wildly at her. "It'll only inflame them further! I know what's wrong!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" demanded A.C, descending to meet him. "You're on the sick list, mister!"

"I'm doing the same thing you're doing, A.C. - I'm trying to prevent a slaughter! Now listen to me! The dragons are acting this way because someone's disrupting the ambient magic in the area. They're in pain, and they're lashing out." Privately, Charlie had a very good notion of why the dragons had gotten so much more savage so suddenly - just in the last few minutes. Ron, Ginny and the others must have found the greenstone mine... and the Death Eaters.

He asked all Light powers to guard over them, and returned to the immediate problem. "What we need isn't a Stunning or Sleeping spell... we need something that dulls pain in dragons. Can you think of anything?"

*

"Well, well, well. Isn't this the little Hogwarts reunion." Draco Malfoy walked casually among the quartet as they stood frozen in place. He passed through Harry's field of view and was gone. Harry couldn't even will his eyes to follow Malfoy... he'd lost all voluntary muscle control

"Scarhead, the Weasel, the Mudblood - and the Weaselette," Malfoy continued in a satisfied tone. "I certainly didn't expect you all to come to this provincial backwater... well, Potter, I suppose. Your presence was probably inevitable. But I thought I'd have to hunt down the rest of you. Having all of you here... it's simply too good to be true."

In his peripheral vision Harry could see Margaret. Her face was slack, her eyes dull and unblinking. She was obviously being controlled, probably by an Imperius Curse. Certainly she'd never have led Malfoy to Papa's Heart voluntarily.

Malfoy was back in front of Harry now. His grey eyes looked straight into Harry's as he smiled chillingly. "I did tell you, didn't I, Potter... I owe you a debt. A great debt, going back many years. Now it's time to pay you back - in full." He gestured with something in his hand - a bright green crystal, about the size of a golf ball. "Walk," he commanded.

Harry found himself walking towards the chamber's opening. He tried to force himself to stand still, but his limbs ignored his commands and kept walking. His mind was racing, attempting to make sense of what was happening... if this was the Imperius Curse, it was unlike any he'd experienced before. The feeling of disconnection from his body was the same, but he wasn't hearing a voice telling him what to do - his body was simply doing it.

He's using the pounamu crystal, Harry realized. It's not really a wand... maybe it doesn't cast spells exactly the same way. He got another glimpse of it as it glowed in Malfoy's hand. A crystal that size? Controlling five people with Imperius and lighting the place with Lumos? With power like that, it hardly matters if it works the same way...

He emerged from the opening into the flat-floored grotto... the foyer to the chamber. He found it interesting that his body, without direction from him, was avoiding the loose stones on the grotto floor... evidently once Malfoy gave a command, his body performed it as best it could. And I can't ignore Imperius commands if I can't hear a voice to ignore. This is looking worse and worse...

Harry walked to the opposite wall and halted - he stood facing the wall, so close that his hat was lighting only a small area in front of his face. Behind him he heard the others climbing out of the chamber and walking a few steps before halting. Harry was willing to bet they all had their backs to the chamber's opening... another of Malfoy's precautions.

After a minute, the grotto filled with greenish-gold light. "Turn and face me," came Malfoy's voice. Harry's body obeyed.

He caught a quick look at Ron, Hermione and Ginny standing against the far wall, but they passed from his vision as he turned to face Malfoy. Malfoy stood a few steps before the chamber entrance, relaxed and confident, the pounamu crystal in his right hind. Even now, in complete mastery of the situation, he kept his distance from Harry and the others. A blank-faced Margaret stood a couple of paces behind him.

"Very nice," commented Malfoy pleasantly, "very nice indeed. You know, Potter, right up to the moment I heard you coming, I wasn't sure you'd find this place. It took me months to find it, after all... even knowing it existed. Your native guide," he jerked his head back at Margaret, "had every confidence in you, though. She knew you'd be here."

He's trying to rattle you, Harry told himself. Margaret wouldn't tell this berk any such thing... she wouldn't give him the time of day!

"Oh yes," Malfoy continued, as though hearing Harry's thought, "the Squib's told so much about you, Potter. Why, she's shared every thought she's ever had about you... every memory, every fantasy..." He smiled confidentially, knowingly, and locked gazes with Harry.

Pain shot through Harry's skull, needle-sharp pain invading his mind... as though every neuron in his brain was firing at once. Legilimency! he screamed silently.

He couldn't even squeeze his eyes shut, his body still wouldn't permit voluntary movement, but he scrambled to marshal his mental defenses... tried to tune out the psychic onslaught, override it with other thoughts... Occlumency... think of Occlumency lessons... with Snape, yes, think of Snape... Snape probing my thoughts, Snape wearing a vulture hat, Snape held in midair by my father, Snape departing on his last mission for the Order...

As quickly as it struck, the pain receded. Malfoy looked at Harry incredulously. "I don't believe you. At a moment like this, you're worried about Severus Snape?"

Got you out of my head, didn't it? For the moment, Harry was glad he couldn't speak.

There was a pause as Malfoy considered Harry thoughtfully. "Snape was an expert Occlumens," he said after a moment, "but even he couldn't keep all his secrets, once I decided I wanted them. The beauty of the green," and he raised the crystal to Harry's eye level, "is that it's particularly suited for this type of mental work. I shall always cherish our first find of it - hardly more than a grain of sand, but enough to break Snape." His chilling smile returned. "I so enjoyed that."

Realization flooded through Harry. Malfoy must have captured Snape... and used Legilimency on him, powered by pounamu. Kept the fact secret from Voldemort, too? Must have... there were no repercussions with the Order.

And the timing of it... Malfoy's "imprisonment," Snape's disappearance... and then came the attack on Lavender! Which means Snape must have come up with Potion Evanescence at some point... and Malfoy sucked it out of him.

Poor Snape. Harry never imagined he could think those words.

"But not as much as I'll enjoy breaking you." The pure venom in Malfoy's voice brought Harry's attention back to the present danger. An obsessive gleam shone in his grey eyes as he brandished the crystal. "Crucio!"

Harry braced himself - but nothing happened. He waited tensely, but the pain of the Cruciatus Curse never materialized. Was there something about pounamu that wouldn't permit Cruciatus? Or...

"Take a look behind you, Potter," said Malfoy with smooth malice.

Even as he turned his head, Harry knew what he would see. Ron was standing like a wide-eyed statue, muscles rigid with agony... sweat streaming from his face as he suffered torture beyond description. Locked in place by the Imperius Curse, he was unable to convulse, unable to scream or relieve any part of his pain.

NO!! Harry wanted to shout. Leave him alone! Punish me, but leave him alone, damn you!! He clenched his fists in anger as he was forced to witness Ron's torment.

With a flick of his wrist, Malfoy canceled the Cruciatus. Ron would have collapsed if he'd been permitted. Harry's body turned back to face Malfoy... but as he turned, he realized that he'd clenched his fists without being commanded to do so.

"By rights, I ought to kill you all now and have done with it," Malfoy reflected. "Mmmm, but no. My partner would call me imprudent... over-indulgent... but I've dreamt of this moment for too long to throw it away. Time enough to kill you later... and it will take time." He licked his lips in anticipation... a tiny motion, but somehow more frightening than anything he'd yet said.

"And then again," he added, "there's so much information locked in your heads that I could use." Malfoy looked away, considering his options.

Cautiously, Harry unclenched his fists - of his own volition - and forced his fingers to slowly straighten. I can fight this, he told himself, even with his augmented power. I've beaten Imperius loads of times before... I can do this... But Malfoy returned his gaze to Harry and he was again frozen into immobility.

"Far better to Stun you, transport you to a safe location, and leave you there. We need to complete the greenstone extraction as quickly as possible," Malfoy told them. He does love the sound of his own voice, doesn't he? thought Harry sarcastically. "Once that's done, I can easily rip every thought from your minds at my leisure. Granger's mind in particular should yield some juicy tidbits."

*

At Charlie's direction, the Awamotu staff were trying to ease the dragons' suffering. Potions were out of the question, but a modified Cheering Charm seemed to be having some success. A.C. was about to suggest moving on to an Anodyne Spell, completely deadening their pain, when the situation took an unexpected turn for the worse.

With one voice the dragons bellowed in a sudden spasm of pain. Even the humans could feel something wash over them, a wave of discomfort that left their skin prickling and their stomachs slightly upset. Charlie Weasley was right, A.C. told herself in alarm. Something's puckerooed the local magic but good. Before any more spells could be cast, the dragons spread their wings and launched themselves into the air.

"Follow them!" called A.C. as she leaned over her broom and gave chase. She had an idea where the wave of discomfort had come from - from the south and east, towards the high end of the valley - and that the dragons were flying straight there. A.C. didn't know what was going on, but it was obvious that Charlie did... and that it had something to do with his four visitors earlier that afternoon. When this is all over, she silently promised Charlie, you and I are going to have a discussion about not sharing vital information. An informal, relaxed discussion... involving truncheons.

In the meantime, with the rest of the dragon keepers in tow, she pursued the flight of Opaleyes and hoped she could turn them aside before they escaped Awamotu and were seen by some unsuspecting Muggle skiers.

*

"Granger," drawled Malfoy thoughtfully, lingering over the word as though it were something repulsive. He contemplated her frozen form for a moment. His gaze slid sideways to Harry. "Didn't you ever wonder, Potter?" he asked with a leer. "Didn't you imagine what it looked like when Granger and Weasley kissed? Lie awake at night thinking about it, perhaps?"

He paused, then said in mock astonishment, "Oh, but you can't answer, can you? Well, no matter. Before we leave, one last indulgence." He nodded behind Harry, and again Harry was forced to turn and look. Ron was still standing motionless, and Harry was confused momentarily.

And again Malfoy seemed to know what Harry was thinking. "No, no, Potter," he smiled silkily, "not that Weasley..."

Ginny removed her mining hat and swept back her hair. Giving Hermione a liquid, seductive smile, she stepped forward. She caressed Hermione's cheek gently and Hermione returned her smile. Ginny opened her arms and Hermione flowed into her embrace, draping her arms around Ginny's neck and wrapping red hair around her fingers. She half-closed her eyes and half-opened her mouth...

Wrapping one arm around Hermione's waist, planting the other behind her back, Ginny dipped Hermione backwards and pressed a long, sensual kiss on her lips. Hermione gave a low moan and returned the kiss passionately, holding her body as close to Ginny's as possible. Ginny's hands began to roam, white against the dark garb - then one hand disappeared as it fumbled under Hermione's jacket...

To one side Ron stood, unable to react, but Harry knew he could see the whole obscene show. His own stomach was churning at the sight of his friends, forced to act out a soft-porn peep show for Malfoy's benefit. And Harry felt sure Malfoy wouldn't stop there...

"We'll try this again later... when I have you all secured," Malfoy decided as both girls began to moan in unison. "More light... and less clothing. Must remember the camera," he added as though to himself.

Compared to what had gone before, this last comment was a minor affront, almost trivial - yet it was the straw that broke the camel's back. Harry had spun to face Malfoy, enraged and ready to attack, before he realized that he'd regained full control of his body. He took a quick step forward...

Malfoy's eyes narrowed in fury - the pounamu crystal swung to point at Harry. "Don't move, Potter," he snarled.

Harry was paralyzed again as Malfoy intensified his Imperius Curse. But this time, Harry couldn't help exulting inside. You idiot, Malfoy! If you really wanted me not to move, you'd be using Petrificus Totalus. But no, you have to use Imperius. You have to show you're superior to us... to me especially. It's not enough to beat me - you have to dominate me.

And resisting domination was something Harry'd done his entire life.

At Privet Drive there'd been his uncle and cousin and his loving aunts, all working so hard to crush his spirit, flog the strangeness out of him. When he gotten his invitation to Hogwarts, it had seemed like a wonderful haven... but that was before he'd confronted Professor Snape. Every year, Snape was there, belittling him, bullying him... Though even Snape paled in comparison to that foul sadist Umbridge, so determined to make him buckle to the Ministry's party line...

And of course, Voldemort. Overlying the span of his life like a poison cloud had been Lord Voldemort. Voldemort and his Death Eaters, who tortured and killed for the simple sport of it. Voldemort, who had to prove on his father's grave how superior he was to Harry...

Bullies, the lot of them. Taking pleasure in wielding power over others. Making Harry's life a misery just because they could.

And Harry's response had always been to resist. Call it his strong heart, call it determination - hell, call it mule-headed stubbornness - but his indomitable spirit would not be put down. No one had, and no one would break his will: not Vernon Dursley, not Dolores Umbridge, not Severus Snape, not Lord Effing Voldemort.

And most certainly not a spoilt... inbred... whey-faced... poncy little FERRET who couldn't beat Harry even with the stolen magic of a goddess in his hand!

Harry forced his left foot to take another step forward. He could sense Malfoy's surprise... and an upsurge in his hatred, if that were possible. Harry could feel the Imperius Curse suddenly strengthen again - he regained the feeling in his legs, but the feeling was that they were encased in stone.

His eyes met Malfoy's and slowly, with great deliberation, he forced his right foot forward.

The Curse's force redoubled - his legs now felt like they were encased in solid lead. It took an enormous effort of will to move his left foot this time.

*

It was like awakening from a morphine-induced dream...

Gradually Margaret began to come back to her surroundings. Her memory still felt as though it had been wrapped in cotton wool, blurred somehow... but she could recall being in her flat... the blond stranger arriving with "a message from the Headmaster"... and then being whisked away to these caves. Recent memories she could recall more clearly... she remembered crawling through underground passages, her hands intent on the tingle that would lead to the true greenstone...

Like a hound on a leash... with the huntsman behind her, minding her. Damn him.

She'd led her captor to the pounamu source, a place where he wasn't fit to walk. He'd broken a large piece of crystal from an exposed vein and used it to light the cavern... then he'd tried to use the crystal to dig out more crystal, but his bolts of magic had been harmlessly absorbed. He'd sent his minions back to the surface while he'd waited there - there was no telling how long they'd waited. But he'd heard the approach of Harry and the others when she did - she'd placidly gone where he told her as he set the stage for their arrival.

A helpless puppet... and he was the puppeteer pulling her strings. Damn him!

Margaret bit the inside of her mouth, reassured by her ability to do so and by the pain it produced. Her mind and body were hers again. Whatever hypnosis she'd been under was evaporating... and as she fully took in her surroundings, she understood why. Her captor was pointing the pounamu crystal at Harry, who stood quivering for a moment before taking a halting step forward. Margaret sensed that her captor's entire attention, every bit of his magical power, was focused on keeping Harry from moving.

And if one spell requires total concentration, thought Margaret, all other spells must be forgotten.

On the other side of the grotto, she saw Ginny and Hermione still wrapped in their "loving" embrace - but their eyes were alert and their lips moving in silent communication. Ron began to turn towards them; Hermione gave him a quick, piercing look - as though she were speaking with him using only facial gestures. Ron gave the slightest of nods and resumed his "frozen" posture.

Ginny, in the meantime, had succeeded in catching Margaret's eye. With lowered brows she glanced at their captor, then back at Margaret. Margaret couldn't catch the exact details of what Ginny was trying to convey, but the basic message was clear: Be ready. Like Ron, she gave a tiny nod and waited for the right moment.

Her attention was drawn back to the blond wanker. He was breathing heavily now, in exhaustion or panic - he was actually gritting his teeth, trying to summon the power to stop Harry. "No," he grated in a low, pained voice. "Go back. I command you..."

Harry too was breathing heavily - but on his face a smile began to blossom. A wide predatory smile, feral and untamed. A smile that said, as plain as day, No one commands me. And he took another step.

The wanker looked like he wanted to retreat from Harry, but wouldn't allow himself. "Right then," he spat, reaching a quick decision. "If you insist on being dealt with now, I'll happily oblige." He managed a confident smile again. "I've been warned you may be immune to this, Potter... but not with the power I can put into it. And they do say third time's the charm." He gripped the crystal tightly and shouted, "Avada -"

*

In the air above Awamotu, the flight of dragons shrieked in agony as the life-giving power of Papatuanuku was twisted into the darkest of Dark curses. They were close enough now to the head of the valley that they could sense exactly where the malignancy was centered.

With one accord they attacked the source of their pain. A score of jets of scarlet fire rained out of the night sky. The flames seared the earth around the entrance to the greenstone mine, consuming the bodies of the men left tied there - and licking at the boxes of explosives.

*

In the grotto beneath Awamotu, everything happened at once:

Harry, freed of the Imperius Curse, ran at full speed towards Malfoy. He spread his arms wide, to make himself the largest possible target - or the broadest possible shield.

Ginny, Hermione and Ron dropped flat to the grotto's floor, grabbing at the loose stones that lay there - even if they were impure greenstone, they were the only source of magic available to them. Three incantations rang out: "Expelliarmus!" "Stupefy!" "Reducto!"

Margaret, who couldn't have used magic even if she'd wanted to, chose the direct approach. Leaning to one side for balance, she raised her leg and delivered a piledriver kick straight into Malfoy's kidney.

All of which happened as Malfoy concluded, "--KedavrAAAGH!"

Malfoy bent over backward with the force of Margaret's kick. At least one spell flashed up from the floor where Harry's friends lay - maybe more, there was too much happening to be sure - and Malfoy jerked upright again, twitching. An arc of what looked like green lightning shot from the pounamu crystal. The lightning narrowly missed Harry's head - it singed his hair as it passed - and struck the rock wall above them with a thunderous echo. Pebbles and dust fell on their heads as Malfoy collapsed in a senseless heap.

Everyone remained motionless for a moment longer. Not until the greenish-gold light began to fade did Harry move or speak. "Is everyone all right?" he called. He bent, collected the pounamu crystal from Malfoy's hand, and cast Lumos anew. He noted without regret that Malfoy's hand was burned where it had held the crystal. "Margaret, are you all right?" he persisted, dropping the crystal in his belt pouch.

Margaret nodded shakily, opened her mouth to speak...

The grotto's floor came up and slapped the soles of Harry's feet. Moments later a concussion wave erupted from the passage to the surface, deafening them with a dull boooom. Margaret and Harry swayed where they stood; Hermione, Ron and Ginny, in the process of getting to their feet, were knocked back down to the ground again.

"Explosion!" cried Harry, looking around wildly. There were ominous cracking sounds in the grotto's ceiling... pieces larger than dust and pebbles were falling... "C'mon, everyone, we've got to get out of here...!"

A shard of falling rock clipped Harry's shoulder. It left a superficial scrape, but its force was enough to spin him around. He was trying to regain his equilibrium when he froze in horror. A huge boulder was fissuring off the wall. Lazily, taking its own time about it, it separated, hung for a moment, and fell...

... with Hermione still prone on the grotto floor beneath it.

There was no time to shout. There was no time to get to her. It seemed to Harry that it was all happening in impossibly slow motion, but there was no time to do anything... but watch.

Hermione looked up to see the boulder falling at her. She tried to roll out of its way... and nearly made it. The grotto floor took most of the impact, but the boulder still crushed her hip and stomach as it rolled and began to settle into place.

Harry was at her side on the instant, lifting the boulder and flinging it away. He knelt over her and tried to shelter her fallen body from the debris now raining onto them. "Margaret!" he cried.

Margaret was already kneeling at Hermione's other side, her hands skimming across Hermione's body. "Shattered hip... spine... ruptured spleen..." she murmured, her face twisting in sympathetic pain, "broken rib punctured a lung... massive haemorrhaging... liver..." She looked up quickly. "Harry, I can't heal her! I'm trying, but nothing's happening! I can sense the damage, but that's all!"

"Magic's still disrupted," said Ron, his face ashen as he limped over. "Can you use a piece of greenstone? That still seems to work..." He offered Margaret the rock he held.

Margaret shook her head frantically. "I don't know how to use that! We've got to get her someplace I can treat her, now!"

"Quite apart from the fact that the place is collapsing around us," added Ginny. "But we can't Apparate either...!"

"We have no choice," said Harry. "Once we're back where magic works right, we can repair splinching - but we have to leave." He wasn't able to take his eyes off Hermione's face. Every horror and nightmare he'd had for the last six years was reliving itself in his mind.

"I can get us out of here safely," he said, determined to do so - and in saying it, he was suddenly confident that he could. "Ron, pick up Malfoy. Don't argue, we need him in the dock. Everyone gather around..."

"No." Hermione's eyes had opened; they shone fanatically as she grabbed Harry's forearm. She spoke in great pain, a little bubble of blood on her lips as forced out the words. "Harry... don't Appar... with us..."

"Hush, Hermione," Harry tried to soothe her. "I can do this, I know I can... I have to, don't I?" He tried to smile at her reassuringly.

"No! It might... trigger change...." Hermione coughed.

"What change? Hermione, stay still..."

"You're turning into a phoenix!"

He paused only a moment. "It's all right, Hermione... don't talk, you'll hurt yourself more..." Harry looked around to see if the others had gathered as he'd requested. He stopped, astonished, at the expression on Ginny's face: she obviously knew what Hermione was talking about.

"It's true, Harry," she said quietly. "I didn't want to believe it, but you just proved it. You lifted that rock like it was nothing..."

Harry snorted. As far as he was concerned, the boulder was nothing. It had simply been an obstacle keeping him from Hermione's side, and he'd treated it as such.

"You're showing all the powers of a phoenix," continued Ginny, "and every new ability brings you closer to the change."

Ron was back with Malfoy's body slung over his shoulder. More fragments of ceiling were threatening to give way... it was past time to leave. "Fine. Whatever. It doesn't matter! We have to get out of here," said Harry.

"But if you try to carry us with you..." Ginny began.

Harry shook his head. "You're forgetting the most important quality of a phoenix." He didn't try to lift Hermione's body for fear of causing more damage, but he wrapped one arm around her head and smiled into her eyes. "They're extremely loyal."

He could feel the power inside him calling to be released. Harry closed his eyes and tried to envision Disapparating while carrying along five other bodies. The sense of surety increased... he could do this, he was positive. He summoned the power and was unsurprised to see red and gold flames envelop his friends.

In a burst of fire the six bodies vanished from the grotto. The last of the greenish-gold light illuminated the ceiling as it fell in, burying in tonnes of rubble the spot where they'd stood.

*

There's nothing like Apparating into a place where Apparition is impossible to scare the bejeezus out of people.

The few students who were spending winter break at the school, and the members of the staff who'd returned early, were understandably startled when the visitors appeared in the whare wakairo. After all, Te Whare Wananga was shielded with wards and guarded by its tekoteko. No one should have been able to arrive unheralded, much less in a spectacular display of pyrotechnics.

Even as the flames were dying down, the Headmaster was on his feet and calmly calling out instructions - he seemed to have taken in the situation in a glance. "Miss Naivalurua, please run ahead of us to the Infirmary and make certain it's ready. Professor O'Ryan, try to track down Madam Maxwell... she's on holiday, but we need her here now..."

"You'll need to make sure the Portkey Authority will let her through," broke in Ginny, remembering her last Portkey experience. She looked over to Harry for confirmation and saw that he was preoccupied with Hermione. She nodded and turned to the Headmaster, ready to take care of the details.

Te Matorohanga nodded back to her. "Mr. Faraday, please contact Magical Law Enforcement... tell them we need Rewa Otimi here as soon as possible. For Portkeys and," he glanced at Malfoy's inert form as Ron unceremoniously dumped him on the floor, "for other reasons, I suspect."

"Yeah," said Ron. "Tell him we have the leader of the local Death Eaters in custody - that should get him here."

"In fact, let me do the talking," Ginny decided. "He needs to send a team to Awamotu and pick up any evidence... he'll probably want to interview Charlie while he's there." She half-smiled at Ron. "Charlie knows most of the facts now... and I doubt Harry wants to spare the attention right now."

As they were speaking, Harry had drawn his wand and conjured a stretcher for Hermione. With infinite care he levitated her into the stretcher, then levitated the stretcher. "Lead on," he said quietly to Margaret, and the two of them took off for the Infirmary.

Ginny watched them leave, then started as Te Matorohanga stepped close to her and gently put his hand against her face. She winced as she realized he was touching a scrape she didn't even remember receiving. The Headmaster kept his hand to her face for a moment before dropping it. "That is the extent of my healing abilities," he said, "but it should help. Do you have any other injuries?"

She shook her head... the Headmaster turned to Ron, who likewise shook his head. "In that case," he continued, "I should offer what assistance I can to our good doctor. If you'll excuse me..." With a swirl of his robes he swept from the hall, walking very fast. She and Ron were left in the middle of the room, with students and staff eying them in undisguised curiosity.

With a shrug, Ron grabbed one of Malfoy's ankles and dragged him to a table by the wall. (If, in the process, Malfoy's head banged against a few chair legs, Ron gave no notice.) "Go talk to Otimi," he told Ginny. "Tell him I'll wait for him here with Malfart. Then maybe you should go to the Infirmary and sit with Harry."

"Harry's not likely to notice whether I sit with him or not," Ginny retorted.

"Be there anyway. Maybe, if he's really turning into a phoenix, you can get him to cry phoenix tears."

Ginny looked sharply at her brother, but Ron's face showed no sign of mockery. "Maybe," was all she said, and went to contact Otimi.

*

She thought about Ron's suggestion as she made her way to the Infirmary. It had been a clever idea, but she doubted it would help. Phoenix tears were strong magic, but their effect was quite specific: they healed wounds. They weren't a universal panacea. They couldn't regrow lost eyes or limbs; they didn't cure infectious diseases; they wouldn't extirpate cancerous tumors.

They wouldn't repair massive internal injuries caused by falling boulders.

Otimi had promised to send out a team to find Madam Maxwell, the school Infirmarian - or failing that, a Healer from St. Cadfael's, the Auckland equivalent of St. Mungo's in London. But untangling the Magical Transportation bureaucracy and getting a special Portkey would take time, even for him. It might be hours before any qualified mediwizard could arrive at Te Whare.

Like it or not, Hermione's life now depended on the healing magic of a woman who, a scant month before, didn't know healing magic even existed.

Harry was seated in the corridor outside the Infirmary doors when Ginny arrived. He was fixedly staring straight ahead, as though trying to see through the doors. Not until Ginny took the seat next to his did he notice her arrival. He gave a start, then nodded a greeting.

"Any news?" asked Ginny quietly.

"Nothing." He paused, and Ginny thought he might simply resume his steady stare. Instead, he sighed and looked at her from the corner of his eye. "'Turning into a phoenix,' Ginny?"

Not the topic I was expecting, thought Ginny. But I don't think you can talk about the thing you really want to... not yet. All right, Harry...

"It was Hermione's idea," she began. "She noticed you were showing some new abilities, and they worried her."

"Such as?" Harry asked, only paying half attention.

"Oh, dying and coming back to life," Ginny replied dryly. "That's not normal, even for you." He snorted in mirth, and she was encouraged to continue. "Then that day we met at your home for goulash... Hermione wiped tears off your face, and her fingers were healed. Actually, that's what started her thinking about phoenixes. All the things that've happened since then - the way you rally people by talking to them, like phoenix song - how you can lift enormous weights, Apparating us all in fire - they all tend to confirm her idea."

Harry said nothing for a long moment. "Just before I died at the Druid's Dolmen," he admitted at last, "I thought I heard phoenix song. I thought I was hallucinating." Now he had resumed his stare at the Infirmary doors. "So I've got a phoenix's abilities," he said after another minute. "Doesn't mean I'm turning into a phoenix."

"She... she thinks that the reason you're still anemic is because your blood is being transformed into ichor - what phoenixes use for blood," said Ginny, more hesitant now. "And... and Fawkes is gone."

Ginny finally had Harry's full attention. "Fawkes? What does Fawkes have to do with this?"

"Hermione could explain better than I could, but... Phoenixes are immortal, Harry. They die in fire and are reborn from the ashes. Well... if they also reproduced, like any other bird, we'd be hip-deep in phoenixes by now."

"You're saying they don't reproduce? At all?"

"Only to replace one that's lost. If a phoenix dies in a way that they can't be reborn, then..." Ginny reached into her pocket and brought out a crumpled piece of parchment. "Hermione tried to find the answers since before we left England... she got this letter the day we left." She handed the letter to Harry, who unfolded it and read:

My dear Miss Granger:

Thank you for your recent correspondence. It is such a pleasure to know that my work in magizoology has inspired another generation of young witches and wizards.

As regards your recent inquiries, you should know that the phoenix is the most reserved and private of all magical creatures. Phoenices nest on the most inaccessible mountaintops; they bond with very few humans. Our knowledge of their personal habits is thus quite limited. The fact that the phoenix is effectively immortal, aging until it reaches a 'burning time' before immolating itself and resurrecting from its own ashes, is one of the few things known for certain about the creature.

Nevertheless, it does appear that some phoenices do elect to pass on. This is most frequently seen at epochal times: moments of transition, when a loved one is lost or when some great event has reached fulfillment. The phoenix appears to feel that its own purpose having been fulfilled, it can 'pass the torch' (so to speak) to another. It is at such times that new phoenices come into existence.

The exact method by which this is done is one of the great mysteries of magizoology. Though phoenices nest, they lay no eggs; reproduction would be needed so infrequently that no living wizard has witnessed it. Your suggestion that the dead phoenix's spirit animates another creature and transfigures it into the new phoenix would accord well with all that is known of this remarkable bird.

I am sorry that I cannot be of further service. If you wish more information, I would suggest you consult with someone who has been in close proximity to a phoenix. I know, for instance, that Professor Albus Dumbledore, currently the Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has had a phoenix companion for many years now; you might approach him.

I would be most interested in whatever you discover, and hope you will remember me in your future correspondence. Yours very truly,

-- Newt Scamander.

Harry read the letter a second time and pursed his lips. "Is this why she's been so worried about me lately?" he eventually asked.

"She's been afraid... if you got injured," (or killed, Ginny didn't say, but it was understood by both of them), "or if you kept using phoenix abilities... it might trigger the transformation."

"But... on the other hand... it might not happen until I reach the end of my natural lifespan... if it happens at all." For the first time since she'd joined him, Harry looked Ginny in the face and gave her a small smile. "And there are worse ways to go," he added lightly. "Besides, I wouldn't be going anywhere... I'd just be a phoenix instead of a human."

"You might not stay with us, once you're a phoenix... they don't bond with humans very often..." Ginny's voice died. Harry was again staring at the doors, his interest in phoenixes done. On the other hand, she told herself wryly, it looks as though the bonding may have already happened. Dear Harry, you've got it bad.

It had taken Harry's death for Hermione to admit what Ginny had already known. Hermione loved Harry - loved him so deeply, so strongly, that his death had threatened to tear her soul in two. Would it take Hermione's brush with death for Harry to admit his feelings? The symmetry was unnecessary, in Ginny's opinion.

The sounds of approaching people brought Ginny out of her reverie. Ron was walking briskly down the corridor, followed by Madam Maxwell, Otimi - and Charlie! Ginny smiled, rose from her seat, and ran to give him a hug - tentative at first, then warmer as he didn't flinch. "Glad to see you're all right, brother mine."

Maxwell bustled into the Infirmary as Otimi gave Ginny a slight nod. "Your brother's told me most of the details, Ms. Weasley. He asked to be brought here, and I saw no reason not to do so. Mr. Potter?" He addressed Harry, who seemed surprised to see him. "I need to ask you about the remains we found at the entrance to the mine."

"Remains?"

"Three bodies, burnt to death. Evidently, in their last fit of wildness the dragons incinerated them. Your colleague Ron has already told me what the men were doing there, and how they were captured." Otimi gave Ginny another nod, and Ginny noticed that Ron's face had no expression. She wondered just how much Ron had embroidered the story. Otimi continued, "I was hoping for physical descriptions, so that we might identify them..."

"I can do better," said Harry, reaching into his belt pouch. He brought out three wands and handed them to Otimi. "We took their wands when we trussed them. Do you register wands here, as we do in Britain? You should be able to trace these." He paused, and added, "We didn't want them dead. Please believe that."

Otimi was about to respond when the Infirmary doors opened again. Margaret came out, looking very tired, followed by Madam Maxwell and Te Matorohanga. "It looks as though I wasn't needed after all," said Maxwell.

Harry turned to Margaret and forgot Otimi's existence. His eyes asked what he didn't dare voice aloud. Margaret smiled gently. "She'll be fine," she said. "Everything's repaired - all she needs now is a good night's sleep."

The Headmaster was shaking his head in admiration. "You showed skills tonight that had never been wakened, Margaret. Not even in our legends have we had a Healer this powerful. I must say I'm impressed."

Ginny suddenly realized she was holding her breath, and expelled it with relief. "Thank you, doctor," she said gratefully.

"We owe you for this," Ron added.

Harry still hadn't said anything... his expression hadn't changed, his eyes were still on Margaret's face. Then without warning he had her in a tight embrace, whispering thanks into her shoulder.

Ginny could see Margaret's surprise as Harry hugged her. The surprised look faded into a wistful smile as she carefully placed her hands on Harry's back, returning the hug. "You're welcome, tohunga," she whispered back. She let him continue the embrace, knowing he needed the emotional release, before gently disentangling herself.

"Now then," she went on in a louder voice, "Hermione will probably sleep until morning. I suggest we all do the same. I assume that a school this size has guest quarters...?"

"I think our friends would be more secure in their minds if we provided rooms next to the Infirmary," the Headmaster cut in. "The rooms behind you... If you will permit me to Transfigure some beds and such for you, we can all retire comfortably."

Harry took off his glasses, wiped his eyes hastily, and nodded silent thanks. Ginny looked to Margaret to thank her again... and caught her looking at Harry, that wistful expression back on her face. Malfoy had mentioned something back in the cave... something about "fantasies"...

I hadn't realized... but you have my sympathies, doctor, she silently told her friend. It looks like we're in the same boat now.