Love Heals

"You were gone a long time," said Draco, hardly looking up from the bits of parchment that were lying clumsily among the small, round table.

Severus walked past the table and toward the dusty cabinets. "It was a long meeting," came his reply. He opened a cabinet door and pulled out a potion, before situating himself at the table across from Draco. He opened the bottle of potion, and poured a bit on his left forearm, gingerly rubbing it over the burning Dark Mark. Severus closed his eyes in relief as the pain slowly subsided.

When he opened them again, he noticed Draco still scratching madly at his parchment. "Have you come up with anything useful yet?" he asked the teen, now dipping his quill briskly into the ink.

"Not sure," came the expected answer. "I don't think so. I know you haven't been working on it at all today, considering you weren't here, but--"

"There is a possibility that I could be getting somewhere," Severus said, and Draco looked up hopefully. "I discovered something that might work as a beginning stage. It might need some work... and I'm not sure how long it will last...."

He got up and replaced the small bottle back into the cabinet. "Have you checked on him today?" Draco asked, as Severus turned around and leaned against the countertop.

"No. I plan on stopping by the Manor later today."

Draco nodded, and set back to work. He and Severus had been working tirelessly to create a potion that could cure an ill house-elf. When Severus and Narcissa planned on hiding Draco at this small, two-room house Severus owned for emergency purposes, the Fidelius Charm was performed. Narcissa was made the Secret-Keeper, and all was well. That is, until the plan backfired. Voldemort had found Narcissa and killed her, just as he had promised he'd do if Draco had failed.

Her death made the Fidelius Charm useless, as she could no longer hold the position of Secret-Keeper. There was only one other person--or creature--that could be trusted with such a responsibility: Severus' House-Elf, Torko. Torko would not be capable of letting the secret out even if he wanted to, because he was bound to follow the orders of his master. He did not want to, however. He was quite willing to take on the job, eager to help Severus and Draco.

The only problem was that now Torko was seriously ill, and they could not afford to have him die. If he were to die, the Charm would once again fail, and they'd be back where they started. There would be no one left who could fill the position of Secret-Keeper. Draco would be found, and murdered. Severus was on the run from the ministry of magic, and could also easily be found and brought to Azkaban without the protection of the spell.

Whatever Torko was suffering from, it was not easily curable. Severus and Draco had been working day in and day out to invent a potion that could help, but success had not yet been reached. Torko was staying at Snape's manor, which was visited daily by Severus, to check on the progress of the elf.

"You don't think what you've come up with will work?" Draco asked, looking up from the parchment again.

"I have my doubts," said Severus, "but I believe it is the best we have as of late."

Draco nodded, and intended to return to his writing once again, but something out the window behind Snape caught his eye. "Severus--there's... there's an owl."

Snape turned quickly around and peered through the tarnished glass. The owl landed just outside what would be considered the property of the house, and looked confusedly around. "What the--" said Severus, and he made his way to the front door. Draco got up from his chair, and looked as though he wanted to come out and see what was going on. "Stay here," Severus warned sternly.

As he made his way over, the owl seemed to perk up. It flew up and dropped a letter into Snape's hands, and hovered by his head. Snape surveyed the envelope carefully, and recognizing the handwriting, beckoned the owl inside.

"Who's it from?" Said Draco, the second he stepped inside.

"McGonagall," said Severus shortly, closing the door, and pulling the envelope open. He now held a small piece of parchment in his hand, bearing the letter McGonagall had carefully worded in her office. Severus rolled his eyes as the letter came to a close.

"What did it say?" Draco pressed.

"Nothing useful."

"Can I see it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Continue your work on the potion. I will be back shortly, after I pay a brief visit to the Manor."

"I want to see the letter."

"Continue your work," Snape repeated. "I will be back shortly."

His letter still in hand, Severus dropped the floo powder in the fireplace, and emerged at his inherited manor. He walked up a flight of stairs to a room in which Torko was lying on a small bed, a warm drink set upon a table beside the bed. Normally, Severus would not be being so kind to a House-elf, but given the conditions they were under, it was necessary.

"Hello Master," Torko squeaked hoarsely as Snape entered the room.

"Hello," he replied, walking up to the small table, and checking that the glass was still full. "Have your feelings changed at all?" He asked, glancing back at the elf.

"No, sir. Not much. Torko feels awful that he cannot be of any use in his condition, Sir. If there is anything Torko can do, please let Torko know, Sir." The elf went through variations of this same speech every time Severus had visited the manor since he got sick. And Severus always replied the same way, "No, Torko. You are doing enough by keeping the Charm going."

Torko blushed shyly, as he always did, and said, for about the hundredth time, "Thank you for stopping by, Master."

"You are welcome," said Severus, tiredly. "Please inform me of any changes in your condition."

"I will, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

Severus nodded and exited the room, letter still clutched tightly in his hand. He retreated down the stairs and entered the living room, planning on writing his reply there. He could not risk Draco seeing anything that was written. Draco had no idea that Severus was on the side of good. He fully believed that Severus was on the Dark Side, that every Death Eater meeting he attended, he attended because he wanted to, not because he had to. The foolish boy currently had no idea what side he himself was on, no less. He had always thought that joining the Death Eaters was the most honorable thing a person could do, but the events of the previous year seemed to change his thoughts drastically. He was by no means on the Light Side, but he no longer wished to join the Death Eaters, either. That was not a problem, considering the Death Eaters were all out to kill him on Voldemort's orders for failing to murder Dumbledore. Now, Draco was just hovering in a shade of grey.

Severus placed the letter on the table, sat down, and began his reply:

Minerva--

Yes, he is with me. No, there is nothing you can do. The events that are taking place here are not ones that can be put into writing. I can't say I'm thrilled that those "involved students" must known so much, as though they need reason to become more conceited.

By the way, your non-descriptive letter writing needs work.

Severus

Snape then thrust McGonagall's letter into the flames of the fire to be sure that no one else could ever read it, before he stepped in himself and flooed back to the small hut-like house. Draco did not speak much as he watched Severus tie the letter to the owl that was still waiting in the kitchen.

Once the owl had gone, however, Draco was back to harassing Severus about the contents of McGonagall's letter. "What did she want?"

"That is not your concern."

"How did she find us? Does she know where we are?"

"I doubt it."

"Does the Ministry know you're here? Are you--?"

"It is late, Draco. I suggest you finish up whatever you were doing regarding the potion, and get to bed."

Snape then left Draco standing there as he exited the room.

*

Harry awoke the next morning after Ron and Hermione told him what they had found out to noise coming from outside his bedroom. He got out of bed, opened the door, and saw Ginny standing next to Hermione's room, in front of her own room, and hastily pushing something into a bag.

"Ginny?" said Harry, taken aback at the sight.

Ginny turned quickly around, her face tense. "Oh, Harry," she said, relaxing.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

"No, I had just forgotten that you're such an early riser."

"Well, it's hard to get too much sleep when you're making all this noise out here," said Harry, rather playfully. "What're you doing, anyway?"

"Oh--I just.... I thought I would...."

"Ginny?" She was acting most unlike her usual self.

"I'm gonna leave, Harry," she said, finally.

"What?"

"I know I'm just--I don't want to bother you, or anything--"

"You're not bothering--"

"No, I mean.... I mean you're all right. I shouldn't be here. It was stupid of me to think I could help."

By now, Harry had walked past Hermione's room and up to her, and he was leaning nonplussed against the wall.

"I hope this works out for you, Harry, I really do," she said. "If--if there's anything I can do... let me know...."

"I never said you shouldn't be here. Ginny, what are you doing? What's the matter?"

"Nothing.... I just realized that I'm--a bit too weak for this kind of thing, and... I don't want to hold you guys up...."

"Weak? You're anything but weak. Where'd you get an idea like that?"

"Harry--I don't know. I should get going. I want to get back to the house before Mum wakes up--"

"Where did you get an idea like that?"

"Harry--"

"Where?"

Ginny looked at him for a long moment, before finally giving in. "Can we come into my room for a minute, Harry? I just don't want to wake the others up." Harry nodded and they entered her bedroom. She beckoned to her bed and they sat together on top of the covers. Harry would've said something to get Ginny to start talking sooner, but he thought it was best if she came out with whatever it was on her own. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally said, in a raspy voice just above a whisper, "I didn't know Riddle's diary was a Horcrux."

Harry was so shocked at that statement, that he could hardly get his reply out, not that it was such a well-constructed reply. "What?" he said.

"I should've known. Well--not that it was a Horcrux, of course. I didn't even know what that was until yesterday. But I should've realized something was wrong with it sooner. I thought I was just helping him open the Chamber--not that that's nothing to worry about--but I didn't realize...I didn't know I was helping him be reborn."

"Ginny, it's--" Harry felt himself almost completely at a loss for words. He hadn't expected this at all. "It's not like it was your fault, Gin," he said. "It was all Voldemort. He's the one that possessed you--"

"--But he wouldn't have been able to if I hadn't trusted the diary--"

"He's the one that created the diary in the first place. He's the one that wanted all those people--really, me--dead. He's the one that opened the Chamber--"

Ginny shook her head. "No," she said, "I opened the Chamber."

"Voldemort opened it through you. That wasn't you, that was Voldemort. It was just your body."

"But if I hadn't trusted the diary--"

"You were eleven. Voldemort has tricked people five times that age, and with five times the experience. You didn't do anything, Ginny. That was all him."

Ginny stared at him for a moment, but made no reply. After a minute, she said, "It's more than a little disturbing to know that I'd been carrying a piece of Voldemort's soul around with me that whole year."

Although Harry had already heard Ginny use Voldemort's name before, it still surprised him to hear the word come out of her mouth. Ginny looked at him and continued talking. "I know you're thinking you shouldn't have told me," she said. "And I don't blame you--"

"I'm not thinking that at all," said Harry quickly. "I told you because you're strong. You're strong enough to be in this War. You're strong enough to fight. If you're going to do that, you need this knowledge. You're right though. I wasn't too happy at first about you playing a part in the War. That was the whole reason I broke up with you to begin with. I wanted to protect you. I didn't--still don't--want anyone else to die because of me. It wasn't because I didn't think you were strong enough, that I didn't want you included. No, that wasn't it at all. I know what you're capable of. I just really didn't want you to die. I realized, however, that either way you were going to make yourself involved, and it would be smarter if we let you join in, and gave you the tools you needed to help, rather than have you go off on your own. If anyone's strong enough for this, it's you Ginny. I'm dead serious about that."

Ginny smiled shyly and gave Harry a small hug. "I guess I just overreacted," she said. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," said Harry, waving aside the apology. "C'mon, let's go get your stuff back in here."

They spent the rest of the morning replacing all of Ginny's belonging where she had them, and inventing exciting games as they went. "Okay, five points for every sock you get in the draw from over here," said Ginny, pointing to a spot on the floor, "and ten if you get it in from back there."

"That's too easy," said Harry. "Five from back there, and ten from over there."

"Fine," Ginny said, laughing, and she picked up a pair of socks rolled together from inside her bag, and threw it toward the open drawer.

"Ooh, missed!" said Harry, racing her to pick it up. He got there first and ran back to the ten mark. He threw it, and it landed swiftly into the drawer.

"Show-off!" said Ginny, and she picked up another rolled-up pair and stood at the ten mark. It landed directly in the center of the drawer. She threw her arms into the air and said, "Oh yeah! That should be worth twenty points, right there!"

"Yeah right," said Harry. "Gimme another sock."

All in all, for such a grave time they were going through with the War and all, it was amazing that they could have so much fun together, throwing socks into an open dresser drawer.