alisanne

Title: Going Home: Part Twenty-Four
Author:

alisanne
Word count: 1810
Rating: PG
Characters/pairings: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Narcissa Malfoy, Severus Snape/Minerva McGonagall.
Challenge: Written for

slythindor100/

slythindor100's 25 days of Christmas, Day 24 (traditional): Santa holding gifts.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Beta(s):

sevfan and emynn.
Authors Notes: Part 24 of Going Home (LJ/IJ/DW).

~

Going Home: Part Twenty-Four

~

“And when you received my letter, that was the first time you saw it?” Narcissa asked, after Harry recounted his many encounters with the owl.

“Yes.” Harry shrugged. “At that point I wasn’t suspicious at all, but then I kept seeing it over and over. Is it your owl?”

Narcissa shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I used a public owl to send my letter to you.”

“Ah, damn.” Harry sighed. “I was hoping you’d know something more about it.”

Draco frowned. “Why a public owl, Mother?”

Narcissa met his gaze squarely. “I wasn’t sure you’d accept an owl from any of our regular owls, and I really wanted you to read the letter.”

Draco flushed. “Of course. Sorry.”

“I’m not. I have you back.” Narcissa smiled at both Draco and Harry. “Not only that, but I’ve also ended up with a generous and powerful son-in-law who clearly adores you. I cannot complain about the outcome.” Her smile faded. “I am sorry if my choice of owl placed you in any danger, however, Harry. Please accept my apology.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologise,” Harry assured her. “There would have been no way to predict the owl would become weirdly obsessed. It’s just…one of those things.”

Hermione shook her head. “Why do strange things always happen to you, Harry?”

Draco snorted. “Trust me, I’ve been wondering the same thing for years.” He shot a fond look at Harry. “It’s always something with him.” He smirked. “He’s lucky he’s so cute.”

Harry leaned into Draco. “Thanks,” he said, tone dry. “But can we get back to the owl? Could it be an Animagus?”

“I shouldn’t think so,” said McGonagall. “Speaking as an Animagus myself, if I wished to communicate with you, I’d do so while human. When I’m a cat, my thoughts and priorities are different.”

“Could it be a new Animagus?” Harry asked. “One who doesn’t know how to change back?”

“As this is all speculation,” hissed Lucius from the bed, “may I suggest we return to more important matters? Like how to end this…plague so i can be retuned to myself?”

Harry coughed. “Of course. Sorry. Hermione?”

Hermione began to pace. “Well, my examination of Mr Malfoy has established we have the correct curse, but since the cure has not been used in centuries, we can only hope it will work on him.”

“So, to be clear, you want Potter and me to risk our magical essences on a hope?” asked Snape dryly.

Hermione sighed. “Well, ideally, we would have months to test it in various situations and on multiple subjects, but judging from Mr Malfoy’s condition—”

“We don’t have months.” Snape huffed, looking irritated. McGonagall placed her hand on his arm and he immediately calmed.

Harry looked away. It seemed strange to see someone be so tender with Snape. “So what’s involved in donating some of our essences?” he asked. “And does it hurt?”

Hermione smiled. “It should be painless,” she reassured him. “Although you’ll probably feel weak, possibly disoriented.”

Harry nodded, his hand tightening on Draco’s. “And does magical essence…regenerate?”

“Possibly?” Hermione shrugged. “I’m afraid this area of healing is not well explored. I seem to recall some cases where wizards have lost their magical essences drained by magical artefacts, only to regenerate their magic on their own, but I can’t guarantee that.”

“How do you remove it?” asked Harry after several moments of silence.

“There’s a spell.” Hermione smiled. “At least that I know how to do it, and have done it before in cases of contaminated magical essences. It’s similar to the way you extract memories, it even looks a bit like them.”

Harry nodded. “When do we begin?”

“As soon as Professor Snape agrees.” Hermione’s expression went firm. “I won’t extract all your essence, Harry. If Snape says no, we go back to the beginning and try to find another way.”

“No pressure,” sneered Snape. McGonagall leaned in and whispered something in his ear which made him smile. He rolled his eyes. “But, as Minerva has reminded me, I did come all this way. You may proceed.”

Wordlessly, Narcissa rose, walked over to his chair, and bent down, hugging him.

Snape embraced her awkwardly. “Enough,” he finally said. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

Nodding, Hermione gestured for Snape and Harry to follow her. “This way, please. I’ve set up a small space over here for us to use.”

After kissing Draco, Harry stood, following Hermione. In the corner of his eye he saw Snape do the same with McGonagall.

“You sit here, Harry,” instructed Hermione. “You here, Snape.”

From his vantage point, Harry could see the entire room. Draco, his eyes worried, was watching, Narcissa behind him, her hands clasped. McGonagall remained seated, but her posture was straight, alert. He had no doubt she was ready to spring into action if needed.

Harry could see snow swirling around outside.

“I’m going to start with you, Harry,” said Hermione softly. “Try to relax.”

Harry closed his eyes and breathed evenly. Part of Auror training included mindfulness and centring oneself, so he thought back to those lessons.

Beside him, he could hear Hermione giving Snape the same instructions to relax. He smiled faintly. Snape’s idea of relaxation would probably be brewing some noxious potion.

Harry drifted. He could feel something leaving him, but, as Hermione had said, it wasn’t painful. After a few minutes, he could discern people talking in the distance and quickly realised it was Draco and Narcissa. They chatted softly, and after a moment he heard McGonagall join in.

“…is odd behaviour for an owl,” said Narcissa. “…not sure what to make of it.”

“…could adjust the wards to keep any malevolent animals out,” said Draco.

“…good idea,” said McGonagall, her brogue more pronounced that usual. She sounded worried.

“You’re doing great, Harry,” said Hermione. “Just a few more moments.”

Nodding, Harry kept his eyes shut, relaxing more. He contemplated the gifts he’d bought for Draco, the sexy St Nicholas outfit he’d purchased specifically to wear while he was giving Draco those gifts, and about what would probably happen afterward.

“Harry, your heart rate and blood pressure are up,” said Hermione. “Think more calming thoughts, please.”

Harry felt his face flushing and, pushing those thoughts away, began thinking about random things. After a while, his mind once again drifted to the owl, to how it had looked at him when it’d brought the letter. About the way it watched him. Something about its eyes had been familiar…

“All done,” said Hermione. “You can open your eyes now.”

Harry blinked. The light of the room seemed more faded somehow, colours less vivid. He sat up and his head swam. “Ow,” he muttered, rubbing his temple. “Headache.”

“Drink this,” said Hermione, handing him a cup. “It’s Strengthening Potion and it should help.”

Harry did, and by the time he finished the medicine, Draco was stooping beside his chair. “Hey,” he said, tone soft. “You all right?”

Nodding, Harry smiled at him. “Think so.” He glanced over towards the bed where Hermione was slowly infusing slivery strands directly into Lucius’ chest. “Wow,” he whispered. “It does look like memories.”

Draco smiled. “You sound drunk.”

“I do?” Harry stood. Or he tried to stand. He wobbled alarmingly, and Draco slipped under his arm, holding him up.

“You do this when you’re drunk, too.”

Harry began to laugh, but it died away when he saw Snape and McGonagall seated together on the sofa. Snape’s head was on McGonagall’s breast and she was stroking his face. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that.”

Draco followed the direction of his gaze and hummed. “Tell me about it.” Raising his voice he called to Hermione. “Hermione, can I tuck Harry in? He looks dead on his feet.”

“Absolutely,” said Hermione, not looking up from her task. “Make sure he drinks plenty of water. And nothing too strenuous tonight.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” said Draco, his voice bland.

Hermione snorted. “I’m sure. Go on, get some rest. I’ll be by later to check on him in the morning.”

McGonagall cleared her throat. “Narcissa, can I trouble you for a place to sleep? I don’t think Severus is in any shape to travel.”

Narcissa, hovering next to Lucius’ bed as Hermione worked, nodded. “Of course! I’m so sorry it didn’t occur to me sooner. Bippy!”

Bippy appeared and within moments Apparated McGonagall and Snape to a room. When he returned, he did the same for Draco and Harry.

Harry, who was beginning to fade, collapsed onto the bed as soon as Bippy dropped them off in their quarters. He tried to remove his robes, but his hands were slow, his fingers not agile, and finally, Draco slapped them out of the way. “Let me do it.”

Harry smiled crookedly. “Okay.” Staring up at the ceiling, he giggled as Draco undressed him.

“What’s so funny?” asked Draco, finally removing Harry’s boots.

“Usually when you undress me it’s for sex,” yawned Harry.

Draco chuckled, sliding Harry’s legs up onto the bed before crawling in with him. “Oh, there will be some of that later, trust me.”

Burying his face in the curve of Draco’s neck, Harry inhaled. “Okay,” he whispered, and that was all he knew.

~

When Harry woke, he was naked, on his back, with an equally naked Draco draped over him. He felt better, clearer. In fact, he couldn’t tell any of his magic was gone. “Maybe I’ll be able to tell when I cast a spell,” he whispered.

Draco muttered something, but didn’t wake.

Smiling, Harry kissed his forehead, then, feeling the call of nature, slipped out from under him to find the loo. He moved slowly, still feeling a bit weak, but made it okay.

On his way back, he shivered. Looking over to the French doors, he saw they were open, and frowning, he made his way over to close them. It was a struggle, but he finally got the latch to work.

When he turned around, he froze, blinking. Someone was standing behind him. Before he could even contemplate a hex or curse, however, he heard Draco say, “Lumos!”

The lights all came on, and Harry gasped as he saw who it was. “Ron? What the hell?”

Ron, as naked as Harry and shivering, was staring wild-eyed at him.

“Fucking hell, Ron, where have you been?” Harry cried. “Hermione’s sent you tons of messages. What the hell’s going on?”

Ron didn’t respond, he just stepped back, expression wary.

“Weasley?” Draco growled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, wand in hand.

Eyes wide, Ron looked back and forth between Harry and Draco before, with a low cry, he collapsed.

“Well, isn’t this just perfect?” drawled Draco.

~

Continued in Going Home: Part Twenty-Five (LJ/IJ/DW).