Put Your Curse In Reverse [Part 2]

Chapter 5 - Kaleidoscope

Teddy brought Ginny over to a row of chairs beside Albus's bedside, but Ginny had no interest in sitting. She shrugged Teddy's arm off and came to stand beside Victoire.

"How can I help?" she pleaded.

Victoire glanced once at Ginny and seemed to instinctively sense what Harry did—that she was on the cusp of panicking. Ginny was not the sort of person who panicked easily, so the idea of that appeared to be as terrifying for Victoire as it was for Harry. She quickly took Ginny's hand and showed her the correct way to hold Albus's head steady. Harry approached the end of the bed. He set his palm on Albus's calf. He drew in a shallow, shaky breath. Teddy came to stand at his side, his arm wrapping firmly around Harry's shoulders. Harry let his eyes shut as he drew in another stunted breath. His godson stood steady, holding Harry up, his hair gradually shifting to the darkest of blacks.

It was the longest night that Harry had ever lived—and he'd lived some very long ones.

He and Ginny spent most of it standing at Albus's beside, doing anything and everything the healers asked of them, their hands shaking from too many mugs of tea and coffee, their knees aching from hours of standing. Neither seemed willing to sit. They both refused to rest. And Albus bled, and bled, and bled.

"You should bring everybody here," Victoire told them around five that morning, her eyes shadowed and soaked. The words squeezed the air from Harry's lungs. He spent the next five minutes in the adjoining toilets, sobbing so hard he nearly vomited, his mind a mess of bodies falling through veils, of bright green lights wrenching screams from throats, of the sting of realizing you'll never speak to somebody again. The missing. All the longing and the pain and the tragedy. A shifting glimpse at memory after memory: the first time he cradled Albus and the perfect weight of his tiny body (so fragile but full of weighty potential all at once), Albus's first time saying dada and the way he'd giggled so proudly, his tiny hand in Harry's as they visited his grandparents' grave on Halloween, his shrieking laughs as Harry tossed him up into the air and the perfect trust shining in Albus's eyes. He replayed it all until the memories felt like punishments.

Ginny was unreachable in a way he'd never seen before in all his decades of knowing her. She didn't seem to hear anything the Healers said. She stretched out on the bed beside their son, her arms holding him close like he was a toddler camping in their bed after a nightmare, her eyes bone-dry but somehow aching even more for it.

And Al didn't wake. He didn't stir. He was far away, untouchable, drained dry and in constant pain (as one of the Healers cruelly mentioned while in earshot). After hours of this, with no progress being made, with their son hemorrhaging faster than the Blood Replenishing potion could be administered, Harry found himself wondering if perhaps their efforts were inhumane.

Their entire family came, even Uncle Charlie. Ginny didn't move from Albus's side, but her eyes diligently took stock of every head.

"Where's Scorpius?" she asked Harry. They were the first words she'd spoken in hours.

"I don't know...Molly, did you send Scorpius off to Draco already?"

"Draco collected him within minutes of arriving," Molly answered. Her words were barely audible over her sobs. She was lying on Albus's other side, her shaking hand stroking his hair back.

Harry met Ginny's eyes. Words weren't needed. He nodded once, rose from the chair, and headed towards the doorway. He was blocked by Hermione.

"Where's Victoire?" she demanded. She pushed urgently past Bill, past Ron, past Percy, her arms full of ancient books, and in her hand was a vial of brownish liquid; it looked vaguely familiar to Harry, but he wasn't able to focus on it long enough to recall why. "Victoire—I used Veritaserum on Carrow and his remaining family, and if there is a counter-curse they all managed to fight the potion and none would admit it. They all swore it's never been used since the Battle of Hogwarts, and all those victims died within the hour, and nobody really knew why. But I think—come here, look, I broke into the Department of Mystery's library, I think we should try this—"