Put Your Curse In Reverse [Part 2]

Chapter 5 - Kaleidoscope

But Pomfrey had already exclaimed 'St. Mungo's!' by the time Ginny reached them. Albus disappeared from them in a swirl of green. Harry's knees buckled. He hardly felt the sting as his knees slammed the ground. He thought he might be sick, and his entire sleeve was drenched with his son's blood, and the bed he'd been on was red, and Harry couldn't lose him, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't—

His wife slammed into him. Her hands gripped the front of his cloak.

"What happened?! What the hell happened?! What's wrong with our son?!"

Harry couldn't find the words. Ginny shook him.

"Harry!"

Without warning, after a few more long moments of his stunned silence, she burst into tears. Overcome with the horror of what they'd both seen, she fell back onto her bottom on the floor, her left hand rising to press over her blood-splattered mouth. Harry was beginning to feel like none of this was real. Not the sticky blood on his sleeve. Not the eerily quiet Hospital Wing. Not the blood on Ginny's face and neck. Not his strong wife crumbling to pieces beside him on the Hospital Wing floor. It was a nightmare. It was the worst nightmare he'd ever had. It had to be.

"Ginny," Neville said quietly. He walked over. He immediately sank down, so he was sitting on the floor, too. He pulled his cloak sleeve down and reached forward, gently wiping some of Albus's blood from Ginny's face. "Halloran Carrow used one of his dad's curses."

"On my son?" Ginny croaked. "Why?!"

"He was aiming for me," Harry said. His voice sounded dull and empty. He felt empty. Something had shut off inside.

"We've got to go; we have to go to St. Mungo's." Ginny grabbed onto Harry's arm and tried to pull him up with her as she stood, but he couldn't get himself to move. He just kept picturing his son's face, blood-drenched and panicked. If he hadn't put up a shield...if he'd just let his kids handle it, the way he'd always handled things when he was their age...why did he insist on pretending he knew better, just because he was an adult? He didn't. He caused this. If he hadn't intervened, he could've taken the curse; that was only fair. He had lived longer than he'd ever imagined, had he not? He could have spared Albus this. He could have spared him more pain.

Ginny wasn't having it. "Harry!"

He couldn't feel anything until she took his face firmly in her hands. He met her steady gaze.

"Harry," she repeated, but it was softer this time. Her cheeks were shining, still damp from her tears, pink and brown streaked from the smeared and dried blood. "It isn't your fault. But you need to find a way to break through this, because I'm going to St. Mungo's, and I'll be incredibly cross if I have to go alone."

Alone. No—he couldn't do that to her. He couldn't make her do that alone. He focused on the feeling of her palms against his face, and then the chilly bite of the stone floor through his trousers, and then the far-off sounds of rapid whispering coming from outside of the Hospital Wing. Focusing on the physical helped bring his mind into sharper clarity, but he almost wished he hadn't. He was floored by an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and dread.

"St. Mungo's," Ginny prompted.

"St. Mungo's," he agreed. His lungs felt tight. He stood and they hurried towards the fireplace.

"Aunt Ginny? Uncle Harry?"

They turned around to see Roxanne hurrying towards them. The whispering Harry had heard earlier was courtesy of a tangle of sleepy students from nearly every house, grouped around the open doorway of the Hospital Wing, watching with morbid curiosity. Harry didn't know how long they'd been there, but he figured it couldn't have been very long; if Roxanne had seen Albus that way...