Nobody returned to Spinner's End that evening...
The blood transfusion took place at night in a Muggle hospital ward on London's outskirts. Preceded by a small series of Unforgivables—specifically Imperius curses. Stunning the duty team with Confundus, especially the nurse—the only one present capable of professionally sticking a needle where needed—would've been putting it mildly unwise. And the doctor peering under a microscope at something in blood, as he'd so cleverly said—agglu... something—needed being at minimum coherent.
The process went under the close supervision of Hippocrates Smethwyck, who'd brought along an old friend—a curse-breaker from the Department of Mysteries (naturally under oath). They'd also incidentally obtained official permission for using the Imperius Curse—no more than six—for research purposes in healing magic. So the professors watched most attentively as their new acquaintance cast one after another filigree spell.
Not even a small pantomime escaped Harry. Snape meaningfully raised an eyebrow and looked at Flitwick. He nodded. I'll ask later, the boy decided. Sat next to Snape and held out his arm for the first blood draw before his mentor. Who grimaced but didn't argue. Matter of a couple minutes anyway.
Harry still asked about the paper from the Ministry. They even showed him. Only the "unspeakable's" name he never could read on it.
Well how about that! Harry thought. Blinked at the Ministry seal and climbed onto the couch. It was insanely interesting.
Here a lab assistant accidentally glanced in. Immediately assigned to the boy as moral support since the nurse went preparing place and equipment for the second patient. Harry was glad—though support wasn't really needed. Finally someone to question properly!
He handled the injection without problems. Like any schoolboy, vaccinations and tests weren't new to him. Just gotten out of practice a bit over a couple years. The young lab assistant was murmuring something soothingly about donors, about how they give blood and why it's important. Harry listened politely.
Watching blood drip then flow was first curious, then so calming he nearly dozed off. But when everything finished, Harry woke immediately. Along with him woke healthy curiosity. In all senses healthy—especially in size.
So after the pale but bright-eyed child-hero who'd given blood "for dad" started zealously inquiring about details of his anatomy and physiology, the Muggle medics couldn't resist. The lab assistant got it first of course. Shouldn't have sat nearby—better would've brought sweet tea!
Why the tourniquet? Why make a fist? What's that cool stuff they wiped with? Why stick in the elbow? If not the elbow then where? Why are veins blue?
Exchanging glances, the medics decided to let the inquisitive kid look in the microscope a bit. He hoped that would be it. But... He had to explain the microscope's principle, tell what these red tablets were and some other shapeless things. "...oh, meaning cells can be like that? What other kinds are there, why and for what reason are they like that?"
Harry was blissful. Learning so much new about himself was cool. Right here, in real life, on his own blood—not from cousin's textbook pages. Awe-some!
The lab assistant sweated and looked imploringly at the doctor.
He decided enough from the assistant. Took matters into his own hands. Could safely count practice for Mr. Edgecombe.
The kid kept peppering questions so zealously even the doctor himself got carried away. As a result everyone listened with pleasure to a detailed lecture on blood composition and transfusion with a small excursion into genetics. Especially Snape, who'd face this soon. The lab assistant carefully retreated. The doctor was so absorbed in his story he didn't notice how one microscope migrated somewhere under Mr. Smethwyck's robes. True, on the table later appeared some plump envelope...
The chief healer calculated the envelope's contents would cover both microscope replacement and honorarium. For a gorgeous lecture. Should repeat actually. And generally high time updating equipment at St. Mungo's—completely moldy! He hungrily surveyed the office and acquired a small sterilizer and transfusion system too. Promised himself he'd pay as soon as possible... Fortunately he'd understood perfectly how working with them. But what prospects!..
Harry meanwhile managed to examine his own hair, a piece of old skin from fingertip near the nail, saliva and what he'd extracted from under nails. The last picture especially impressed him. So he decided washing hands was worth doing more often after all. And now he's already predatorily looking around for what else to put on the slide... He didn't find anything.
And seriously thought about healing magic. If studying Muggle medicine too—that would be... wow!
Should ask Snape for Pensieve and show everything to Hermione, Potter decided. Got several brochures from the doctor tired of lecturing work. Finally calmed down, plunging into text difficult for his understanding. Well... like calmed down—stopped bothering everyone with questions. Because the wise doctor also gave a textbook with terms at the end, alphabetically. The wizard professors incidentally appreciated the idea.
Understanding their charge was lost to society for some time, Flitwick tensed. What this would result in was unclear. But that it wouldn't pass without consequence—no doubt. Potter after all. Snape also tensed but they quickly laid him on the couch.
The elderly nurse snorted about "vulgar tattoos." The poor man first went pale, then red and muttered something like "youthful mistake." Smethwyck and the curse-breaker quietly neighed so Flitwick even had to shush them—like "sinful laughing at sick people." The woman frowned and explained to the patient that supposedly feeds the kid normally, so should eat himself too. Otherwise won't limit things to one transfusion. Unambiguously hinted about a niece quite knowledgeable in cooking.
Thin and pale Snape, asthenic practically from birth, was overcome by completely different feelings and one single desire—start from here as far as possible soonest. It became especially bright when the elbow crook was wiped with something cool and they brought the needle.
Looks far scarier than it feels, he decided when the needle entered the vein. Relaxed.
"We'll also introduce some iron and glucose," the doctor commented. "He's like your son—should look after your health!"
The nurse actively supported this...
Praise Merlin and all gods that Smethwyck and his friend wishing to remain nameless were nearby. Incidentally Harry after everything still couldn't remember his face. Seemingly nothing special. But if meeting somewhere—he would never recognize. What kind of magic this was, Harry wanted to know more than about curse-removal methods which his teacher had up to... That is, everything was very, very serious. Though developed gradually.
Because curses started interacting with the interesting cocktail that Harry Potter still from naivety or habit continued considering his blood. Though blood was there of course too. But as a result Snape nearly kicked the bucket. When his skin turned blue and body arched as if in agony, Harry himself almost died. Fortunately, the adults were ready.
"Thomething like thith I ethpected," Smethwyck hissed through his teeth, holding his wand aimed at Severus's sternum. The healer's hands were busy with some artifacts he immediately applied to his stomach. He traced a strange flourish with his head and spat out the wand. "Slowdown by half... three quarters... stasis. Potter, march out."
Then the curse-breaker got to work. Flitwick worked with medics, arranging Muggles he'd put to sleep on sofas. Harry helped him and prayed quietly for everything ending well and nobody arriving at the clinic in an ambulance—he suddenly remembered a film where people ended up at hospitals exclusively at night. Or was that some program?
Just in case he told Flitwick. The half-goblin went out to put anti-Muggle charms on the emergency entrance. After seemingly eternity—though only three hours passed—the curse-breaker emerged. Looked around and stuck his head under the tap, running water.
"Everything's fine." He snorted, drying his hair, and smiled widely.
Harry understood what "relief" meant. His body sat almost without his participation and immediately wanted to lie down.
"Very difficult? Or many?" Flitwick asked.
"More like tricky," the curse-breaker shared. "Sixteenth century, just think! And the client carried five new ones on himself since youth too. Also tricky but can't compare with the main one, no... trifles. Ancient blood curses passing in the family—that's unspeakable nastiness I tell you. And rare. Good things aren't made anymore... True, practically nobody can remove such either. But what practice!"
"Excellent work, colleague." A beaming and disheveled Smethwyck emerged. "The patient needs a minimum of two days of full rest. Don't get up for a day. How do you view me taking him to my place?"
Harry's eyes bugged out:
"What about the headmaster's assignment?"
"What assignment—the man's sick! Your Dumbledore can wait," Smethwyck was indignant.
"He's not ours at all," Harry took offense.
"But we're all his—shouldn't forget that," Flitwick had nothing to argue with.
"Can he Apparate?"
"Undesirable. At least till morning."
"I'll return and escort him home in the morning," Flitwick decided. "Harry, you'll come when you can."
"But what about?.."
Before he finished, the Charms professor's attentive look helped him figure it out—Flitwick had the Time-Turner! Right, completely forgot. The professor took him from the house with its help—who'd let him out at night? So now at Aunt Marge's his double was sleeping...
Harry suddenly yawned heart-rendingly. Smethwyck fussed. After which they levitated Snape with two systems—IVs in both arms—to a separate ward with a large window. Hung charms on it and left the curse-breaker on watch. He without long thought put a "watchdog" spell on the patient and with a satisfied sigh stretched out on the neighboring bed.
While Hippocrates Smethwyck woke his Muggle colleagues and professionally pulled wool over their eyes, simultaneously slightly cleaning their brains—especially thoroughly regarding Harry Potter's blood oddities—Flitwick and his charge went outside and used that very valuable artifact. Simultaneously thanking Hermione Granger for it and also those who'd given it to her. For justice's sake.
***
In the morning the duty team cheerfully and with pleasure chewed over bones of the strange visitor who'd shown up for a lecture and bought a microscope at triple price and something else small. However strange he was, everyone decided if he accidentally wandered to them again, they'd definitely tell him something else. And show, yes.
Meanwhile the doctor wrote the replacement a note about the broken microscope, sending the lab assistant for a new one.
Hippocrates Smethwyck, Chief Healer of St. Mungo's always made exit from Imperius of highest quality.
***
The Time-Turner proved incredibly useful—they managed everything! Harry practically moved to Spinner's End. Filius Flitwick and Hermione spent half days there too. Life was wonderful. Liquid Imperius and its antidote were unique, complex and interesting tasks. Though during some stages Snape kicked everyone out of the laboratory. Fortunately not for that long. So parting with bookshelves and trudging back to the lab became a bit sad for the kids sometimes. But they didn't show it—if the professor works almost round the clock, they could too!
Harry after the hospital was tormented by one interesting question. He'd finally thought why he and Snape had identical blood counts. And not only.
"Look, I have black hair when Father's were chestnut and Mum's red," he shared suspicions with his best friend.
Hermione, thinking, bit her lower lip slightly and looked at Harry.
"What about eyesight? And... facial features?"
"Maybe this can be changed by some ritual?"
"Want the same nose?"
Harry shrugged. Normal nose—well healthy, but not like Cyrano's. He'd seen a production out of the corner of his eye last summer that Aunt Petunia watched.
"You're relatives with him anyway now."
"You see... I just want to know. Actually this doesn't seem to be affecting anything. But I can't calm down—I want to know the truth!"
"And how?.." His friend looked at him with interest.
Harry sighed. Hermione knew how to ask good questions. And how to approach?.. He imagined himself saying: "Professor, excuse me, for Merlin's sake... (and something else very important and significant for the potioneer... should think of something...) you definitely with my mum... uh, nothing happened?"
And Snape's face afterward, yeah. Better not imagining the sound.
Oh no, seems better not trying...
"Well, imagined?"
"Yeah." Harry sighed. "Seems I'll manage without for now."
"Yeah, I think so too. By the way... From your blood maybe medicine can be made. I recently read about immunoglobulins... Seems Professor Snape felt so bad because of them then. But if he got all your immunity to potions and curses, that's..."
"A real breakthrough! Smethwyck will eat his hat..."
"Coat, Harry, coat." His friend giggled.
"Great, and how are they isolated and stored? What's needed for this?"
"I'll take the book to Hogwarts, Dad allowed. There... different options."
And they hurried to the laboratory.
***
Filius Flitwick was also absorbed in work. By holiday's end had to finish the collar-artifact he'd planned for Sirius Black with built-in shields, support for Polyjuice aniform and mini-portal tied to his own kennel. For the last the professor had to run to the kennel under Potter's signature invisibility cloak. Twice—first time he had to run because outside invisibles the doggies didn't favor. And didn't complain about instinct.
Labor-intensive holidays turned out. Despite the load, Snape clearly looked younger. The kids and Flitwick noticed. Had to do something about this too...
The potioneer gloomily looked at himself in the mirror. Seeing his own face relatively comely was strange and unusual. Thinking about school made it unpleasant, even anxious. He would have to brew an aging potion. Fortunately it keeps well. He thought more and when the Teacher brought his new masterpiece—dog collar—consulted him about image fixative.
Flitwick just spun the Time-Turner... and now in Snape's hands an ordinary button like on his own school frock coat. And a whole box with similar ones and a notebook with explanations which button does what and how to distinguish them.
"Couldn't resist," Filius shared. "Enchanting a complex amulet like the collar is always hard. But when one artifact—one spell—that's not even work, just... pleasant indulgence. But quite useful! You won't differ at all now from what you were before your blood change. Externally."
"Change?! You're sure?"
"Smethwyck didn't share with you?" The half-goblin was surprised.
"He... no, I didn't ask."
"Went into work headfirst as always. Well here, take his verdict."
Snape ran his eyes over the lines and smiled with satisfaction.
"Interesting prospects. Main thing—not getting caught."
"Button up."
"Thank you, Teacher. Maybe I can do something?.."
"You always help when needed anyway. We agreed not to count who owes whom, incorrigible Slytherin... Though Merlin be with you—with your house no other way. But now you're ready for school!"
***
Harry finished instructing Aunt Marge and cousin. Solemnly handed them the magic collar user manual where the main thing was "under no circumstances remove." Went to pack. Holidays ended catastrophically fast.
But about time spent could definitely say—it didn't pass in vain. He was satisfied. Obtained knowledge still needed systematizing and adding something. Not everything was clear yet. The thought of taking Muggle exams and enrolling somewhere by correspondence became more tempting. Shame Muggles don't teach medicine by correspondence. But he could go for biology, and also chemistry... Eh.
His school bag pocket was stuffed with Muggle college brochures and even several universities. Harry understood he was alas still far from them. But he wanted to plan. True, eyes scattered. And should talk with Smethwyck...
Harry thought. For them to send him from school to St. Mungo's, something extraordinary must happen. He wanted living. Breaking bones or poisoning himself—definitely not. And generally Madam Pomfrey would get anyone on their feet. No, he wouldn't see St. Mungo's. At least not that way.
Harry hadn't managed to get upset when another thought came. What if talking to classmates is an excursion? Interesting after all! And generally better visiting hospitals healthy.
Also he remembered he and Hermione were going to charm Protean notebooks. She'd shown yesterday she'd prepared four—two for him, two for herself. He'd even chosen the cover picture. Right, one he'd give Smethwyck. And the second...
Before his eyes appeared the displeased physiognomy of one nasty blond. Harry even shook his head, so surprised. As if—making Malfoy gifts, what nonsense. Sirius! The second he'd give Sirius. Oh no, can't—godfather would constantly try removing the collar to write to him. Then someone would definitely spot him.
What an oaf I am, Harry scolded himself, pressing down with his knee things refusing to pack. Though why oaf—didn't give it, figured it out. So should give Hermione the second one—just for us, exactly!
So-o, it seems these two will have to stay. He pulled a couple books from the trunk and put them on the shelf. Good, I already trained lightning spell and shrinking charms well.
Snape, returned to his old Dungeon Terror appearance, Apparated him to King's Cross. There is still plenty of time before train departure. Harry, as if by inspiration, entered the station building and bought a couple more notebooks... Just in case—what if he spoils one completely?
***
Harry met Hermione approaching the column. They managed to settle together in a small compartment and quickly closed it with distracting charms. Though they'd spent almost all holidays together, there was plenty to talk about. And letting someone else into their small world they completely didn't want.
Discussing the future proved the most fruitful and inexhaustible topic. Used the brochures, a sheet they covered in five minutes, writing out their wishes, now strengths and weaknesses. So one of Harry's purchased notebooks was also "sentenced." So with breaks for snacks and reading they continued almost to Hogsmeade. A couple minutes after Hermione removed the spell, the door flew open and terribly angry Malfoy jumped in the compartment.
"Potter!" He exclaimed quietly not to attract attention. Then closed the door and threw distracting charms again. "If you don't tell me right now what happened after I left, I... I don't know what I'll do to you!"
"Uh... Didn't your parents tell you?"
Malfoy hissed through his teeth. Harry decided to apologize just in case. That the guy was seriously bothered by lack of information concerning his family was clear. So jokes were out of place.
But the train was already starting to brake. Meaning they had no time.
"Let's ride together," Hermione suggested. "Attention diversion... at least on all of us at once!"
"No, first on me," Draco disagreed. "Still gotta occupy a carriage."
"There's enough for everyone."
"Others will climb in."
"Then diversion on Malfoy, we sit and immediately stretch to the whole carriage."
"Deal."
Barely seated, Harry started telling and Draco—asking. They got so carried away they noticed practically nothing and nobody around. Here Hermione shuddered and wrapped tighter in her robes... Here eternally disheveled Harry fastened up... Malfoy shivered and looked around bewildered.
The Thestrals slowed down as if bogging in air. Cold already chilled to the bone. Harry and Hermione prepared wands to cast a cleaning spell. But from behind the hill appeared not a pair of black figures but a shapeless black cloud which then broke into terrible humanoid silhouettes.
Dementors.
"How many of them," Hermione pressed hands to her cheeks. "Mummy."
"Ouch!" Harry grabbed his forehead.
Pain flooded his whole head so it seemed it would explode any moment. He slid to the carriage bottom barely keeping himself conscious.
"Patronus! Come on, Draco!" Hermione exclaimed and prepared herself.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A large light sphere in company with a hippogriff flew toward the dementors.
Draco didn't immediately believe his eyes.
Unfortunately someone else also didn't believe their eyes. And not just one...
"Expecto Patronum!" Harry heard a familiar voice. The pain let up a bit.
Then... He through not-yet-dried tears from pain watched as a small glowing dragon bit the nearest dementor in half. Not a doe... Dragon... His friend's cool hand lay on his burning forehead and scar.
He blacked out.