Harry and Neville hurried to keep up with Mrs. Longbottom.

The previous day had been a little weird, but after writing to Professor Snape about his invitation to the Malfoy Christmas party, he was no longer as concerned about it. . . .

Mr. Potter,

You were right to bring this to me, but I don't believe you need to be as worried with it as you are. I have also been invited and will be attending. If you wish, I can arrange to pick you up from the Longbottoms at noon so you will not need to organize your own transportation. At that time, I could take you to Diagon Alley for you to purchase formal robes, as I am sure you do not yet own any.

As for your questions, I believe the answers need a bit of explanation before I simply give them to you. You have saved the life of the Malfoy family heir. You have not simply saved the life of a friend or a fellow student, but the life of one of the most prodigious families in Europe.

You need to remember this fact, and understand the magical and political implications of this. Draco Malfoy now has a life-debt owed to you, just as any life you directly save would; however, being the family heir, his family also owes this debt to you. There is nothing you can do about this fact. You cannot wave it away or forgive it. It is a magically binding life-debt that can only be repaid by the act of Draco saving your life.

Now, there is a bit more to the relationship between the debtor and the beneficiary (you), but for right now, this is what you really need to know and understand. . . .

Being the beneficiary of the life-debt, the Malfoy family will be inclined to honor you in the most public ways, as it is expected of them and would be greatly frowned upon if they neglected to do so. As such, you will be expected to graciously receive the honors bestowed to you. Failure to do so will send a very strong message to the Malfoys and other families. It will tell them you do not believe the life you saved is worth such gratitude, and it is a severe insult and has far reaching consequences. It could financially and politically harm the Malfoy family's position in the wizarding world, crippling their influence and undoing the work of their forefathers. To put it simply, in rejecting their gratitude, you could crush the future of the Malfoy line. Lucius Malfoy will do everything in his power to prevent this, as he should.

I understand much of this sounds a bit extreme, and I agree with you, but the wizarding world is trenched with tradition and often times it surpasses all reason and logic. Understand, you yourself are an heir to a prestigious family, and your word holds weight because of that.

So, with the above explanation, I can now answer your questions. Yes, I believe you should accept the invitation and attend the party. No, you cannot bring Neville with you. He did not receive an invitation and I highly doubt Mrs. Longbottom would allow him to go even if he had received one. Yes, Mrs. Longbottom will allow you to go. She understands the situation and knows (like every influential family head in the Wizengamot and the wizarding world) of the life-debt the Malfoys owe to you. It would be dishonorable of her to deny you. Yes, a small party gift would be appropriate. Yes, bring Coral with you. As I said before, you are to have her with you everywhere you go (along with that necklace and your wands). This especially includes locations away from Hogwarts. I believe I have now answered all of your questions. If you have any more, do not hesitate to send them to me.

Notify me once you have decided whether or not you will be attending the party so I can make the appropriate travel arrangements.

Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master

Harry did as Professor Snape had suggested, accepting the Malfoys' invitation and informing the professor and Mrs. Longbottom he would be attending the party. Mrs. Longbottom had simply nodded her head, as if what he was saying was old news.

Neville had already expressed his concerns, but quickly calmed when he learned Professor Snape would be at the party with him.

And so they were now on their way to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, walking along a street in London. Finally, coming to an abandoned red brick department store called Purge and Dowse, Ltd., Mrs. Longbottom stopped and led them to the front window where a dummy was. It was dressed in rather outlandish and outdated clothes, but it moved a bit when Mrs. Longbottom stepped in front of it.

"We're here to visit family," she stated.

The dummy gave a slight nod, and with that, she stepped through the window. Harry quickly shook himself before following behind Neville the next instant.

Harry found himself in a rather disorganized reception area that seemed to double as a waiting area and visitor's entrance. It was obvious the place was a hospital, but it was the most bizarre one Harry had ever seen, in person and from the telly.

People were sitting in chairs against the walls, no doubt waiting for treatment, and many of them were obviously in need of some aid. Particularly the man with an arm sticking out of his head. Other people in uniform lime green robes were moving busily throughout the room, leading people from the area or directing them to continue waiting where they were. It was the most organized chaotic operation Harry had ever seen.

Suddenly, a plump, blond woman in white was there, greeting Mrs. Longbottom.

She looked a bit haggard, as if she had been working there since before midnight, but seemed to be forcing herself to be alert and pleasant towards Mrs. Longbottom. Harry didn't blame her. He was certain he would manage a polite greeting even with a broken back if it meant preventing Mrs. Longbottom from turning nasty.

So far, she had been cordial to him, but Harry was sure Mrs. Longbottom was a woman not to be crossed or insulted in any way. Not if you wanted to live.

"Of course, Mrs. Longbottom," the welcome woman said. "Visit as long as you wish."

Harry and Neville silently followed, passing the sick, injured, or confused people in the waiting room.

Going toward the elevator, Harry spotted a floor guide on a wall.

Ground Floor: Artifact Accidents
(Cauldron explosion, wand-backfiring, broom crashes, etc.)

First Floor: Creature-Induced Injuries
(Bites, stings, burns, embedded spiders, etc.)

Second Floor: Magical Bugs
(Contagious maladies, e.g., dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrofungulus)

Third Floor: Potion and Plant Poisoning
(Rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggling, etc.)

Fourth Floor: Spell Damage
(Unliftable jinxes, hexes, and incorrectly applied charms, etc.)

Fifth Floor: Visitor's Tearoom and Hospital Shop

"We're going to the Janus Thickey Ward on the fourth floor," Neville said as the elevator began moving.

Harry nodded.

"When did Neville tell you about his parents, Mr. Potter?" Mrs. Longbottom asked.

"About a week ago," Harry answered honestly, not really seeing a reason not to be.

Suddenly, she rounded on Neville. "Really, Neville, are you so ashamed of your parents that you would wait so long to tell your friend about them? I'm disappointed in you."

Neville put his head down and stared at the floor. The elevator had just reached the second floor.

"I'm sure that's not the reason, Mrs. Longbottom," Harry put in, trying to divert her penetrating gaze away from poor Neville. "I-I don't really like telling people about what happened to my parents. At my muggle school, I didn't really tell anyone that they were gone. I didn't want them to feel sorry for me. It had nothing to do with how I felt about what happened to them."

"Just the same. Knowing your parents suffered a similar fate should have made him realize he shouldn't hide what had happened to them, least of all to you. It was a good thing I told him to tell you if he hadn't already in my last letter to him, even though I had thought he had." She shook her head and looked to the elevator door that was just beginning to open, acting as if Neville wasn't there.

Harry looked at Neville who had yet to lift up his head. Harry gently bumped his arm with his hand, allowing Coral to briefly touch Neville, reminding him of Harry's promise.

Neville straightened at that, lifting his head and looking straight ahead while mouthing, ‘thanks.'

Going down the hall on the fourth floor was weird. There were portraits of old Healers and doors with little windows. Harry didn't even try to look inside any of them. He had heard about insane asylums and didn't want anything to confirm what he imagined.

"Good morning, Mrs. Longbottom, so good to see you, dear. Alice has been getting a little anxious lately. Perhaps your and Neville's visit will help," a grandmotherly Healer said, coming down the hall to meet them. "Oh, and who is this child?" she asked, looking at Harry.

"This is Harry Potter, a friend of my grandson's," Mrs. Longbottom said simply.

The Healer's eyes widened. "Mr. Potter?!" she quickly moved forward and took his hand. "I am Healer Miriam Strout. I oversee this ward. It is wonderful to meet you."

"Thanks," Harry said uncertainly. "It's nice to meet you too."

"I have heard you have already begun practicing healing. If you have any questions about what it's like to be a Healer, just come to me. I'll be happy to share."

"Thanks, I might do that."

She smiled, before glancing at Mrs. Longbottom. "Well, I will get out of your way. You have some visiting to do."

With that, she unlocked the door for them and stepped aside.

The room was spotless, but not entirely drab with sanitation. There were some old drawings pinned on the wall. Harry was able to make out scribbly little N's and L's under colorful stick figures and the like. He quickly gathered they were old pictures Neville had drawn for his parents when he was really young.

There were two beds, one with a man laying in it. He was staring up at the ceiling, totally out of it.

"Hello, mum," Neville said.

Harry turned, finding a woman standing near the far wall, rocking slightly. Harry watched Neville approach her as Mrs. Longbottom remained silent by the door.

"It's the winter holidays, and Gran has brought me and my friend, Harry Potter, to visit," he said softly. "Do you want to meet him?"

She remained where she was but she stilled slightly. Neville waved Harry over.

"Mum, this is Harry, my best friend."

Harry came to a stop beside Neville, almost directly in front of her. "Hello, Mrs. Longbottom."

She didn't look up, didn't say anything, and didn't respond in any noticeable way.

Neville looked behind him to his Gran and to the Healers nearby. None of them were really paying any attention. He glanced at Harry. Harry gave a slight nod.

"Harry's going to shake your hand, Mum. I've been wanting him to meet you since I've told him about you and dad," Neville said, taking hold of his mum's left hand and moving it toward Harry.

Harry took it, allowing Coral to shift forward ever so slightly.

:What's wrong?: Harry whispered, before being bull rushed with a dozen images at once, but they were all strangely clear, every single one passing before him in his mind's eye as her entire body gave a slight glow to him.

Squinting his eyes, Harry focused on zeroing in on the main issue, willing his magic to show him the way to best help her. He was also vaguely aware of Neville standing very close to him, keeping him steady as images filled his mind.

He was shown close up snapshots of nerve endings in her fingers, branches of nerves going up her arms and linking up in her shoulder and back before he was shown her spinal cord. All along the nerves were patches of scar tissue, and in certain areas of her body the nerves themselves were completely shredded. Continuing his search, he was finally shown her brain. With very little knowledge of the organ, Harry could only commit to memory everything he was being shown to the best of his ability. He didn't know what much of it meant, and didn't know what he could do with any of it - yet, but he continued to see, made himself focus on the darkened clusters of fiber-like strands throughout her brain near blood vessels that were surrounded by tiny bulging globs he was able to conclude were more collections of scar tissue.

How on earth was he supposed to heal this?

Blinking, he stepped back and swallowed. What he was able to conclude with what he had been shown was that Neville's mother had suffered a large amount of nerve damage and severe brain trauma.

"Harry?" Neville whispered.

Harry shook his head a little. "It's going to take me some time to work out everything I have been shown, Neville," he answered quietly. "There's a lot of nerve and brain trauma."

"Mr. Potter?" Healer Strout asked, coming toward them. "I trust . . . I trust you are not attempting any sort of parselmagic treatments?"

"Uh. . . ." Harry managed, hoping Coral was out of sight.

"No, Healer Strout," Neville said quickly. "He's not. I've told him my parents' condition is . . . untreatable. He was just introducing himself."

"Oh, well . . . very well then. I had to make sure, you understand. I can't risk any sort of accidents that might occur with such an attempt," she said as Mrs. Longbottom looked toward them, wondering what the fuss was all about.

"We understand, ma'am. I was just introducing myself," Harry said, secretly relieved by Neville's quick answer.

She nodded and stepped back once again so their visit could continue unhampered.

Harry didn't try to diagnose Neville's dad, and Neville didn't try to get him to. For the next thirty minutes, Harry sat quietly next to Neville as he simply spoke to his parents. He told them about school so far, including when Harry had saved Draco's life. They didn't look at him and didn't appear to be listening, but that didn't seem to bother Neville at all.

"Neville, Mr. Potter. I believe it is time to go," Mrs. Longbottom said, interrupting Neville mid-sentence.

Neville stood up and nodded, used to being cut off. Harry followed suit and began to follow Mrs. Longbottom out, but turned back when he noticed Neville wasn't with him.

His mother had stood up and was holding something out for him to take. Neville quickly took the item from her hand and stuffed it in his pocket before his Gran could see.

"Come along, Neville," Mrs. Longbottom called at the door.

"Yes, Gran," Neville said obediently.

Harry didn't say anything.

Stepping out from the elevator, they began heading back toward the entrance to leave when a man ran right into them.

"Mrs. Longbottom!" he exclaimed, shifting out of the way just in time, only to run into Harry instead.

Harry stumbled back, but managed to catch himself on the wall.

"Oh! I am so sorry, young man!" he cried, hurrying forward to dust Harry off, even though he wasn't dirty.

"I'm alright," Harry said, hoping Coral wouldn't take the man's actions as hostile.

"Healer Smethwyk," Mrs. Longbottom stated, unbothered by his entrance.

The man attempted to calm himself and look presentable under her gaze as he turned toward her.

"Yes?"

"It is uncustomary to see you running about in such a careless manner, and for you to run into my grandson's friend, I do hope you can explain yourself," she said.

The man looked absolutely ashamed.

"I do apologize, Madam," he said. "I had just been told something and wanted-" He paused as his eyes fell on Harry. "Harry Potter?!"

Harry barely stopped himself from sighing heavily.

"Yes, he is," Mrs. Longbottom stated.

The man suddenly looked ten times more apologetic. "Oh, I am so sorry! I cannot believe I ran into you, you, of all people!"

"It's alright, sir, really. No one was hurt," Harry said, embarrassed and nervous about all the attention he was suddenly getting from people looking in from the waiting room and from down the halls.

"Oh, you must let me make it up to you," the man continued. "I'll give you a tour! Yes! I've heard you've been practically apprenticed under my old friend, Poppy Pomfrey, using your parsel ability to heal. Yes! You must let me give you a tour, at the very least. I may even be able to allow you some practice. It's the least I could do for you. After all, Poppy and I went to the university together, you understand, and it would be remiss of me to not provide this opportunity to you, her student," he said quickly before looking to Mrs. Longbottom, a little nervous.

Harry blinked while Neville tried not to gape.

"It is up to Mr. Potter," Mrs. Longbottom stated.

"I'd like that very much, sir," Harry said. "As long as it is alright, Mrs. Longbottom?"

"It is, Mr. Potter. It's nice to see a young man able to make something of himself," she said.

Neville's shoulders slouched. Harry forced himself from narrowing his eyes at her, wishing there was a way to get back at her for Neville.

"Thank you, Mrs. Longbottom," Harry said, before focusing on Neville. "Come on, Neville, maybe we'll see some plants being used in a treatment."

"We sometimes do use herbs and plants," the healer said excitedly, before facing Mrs. Longbottom. "They'll be safe with me, Mrs. Longbottom, if you don't wish to join us; you have my word."

She gave a short nod.

"Please, follow me. We'll start on this floor," he said happily.

Not bothering to glance at Mrs. Longbottom, Harry grabbed Neville's arm and urged him forward.

"Meet me in the Tearoom on the fifth floor," she stated as they set off.

"Yes, Gran," Neville called as she stepped onto the elevator.

"Formidable woman, your Gran," Healer Smethwyk commented.

Neville nodded as they stopped at a hall junction with slower traffic.

"Well, this is the ground floor, obviously, and here we treat artifact accidents. Things from broom accidents to wands backfiring and everything in between. We treat over three dozen a day a least, though most are not very serious."

They began going down the halls, looking in on a few patients being healed or examined. Everything seemed to be well in hand, so Harry wasn't surprised when Smethwyk didn't ask if he wanted to heal anyone.

Taking the stairs, they went to the first floor: Creature-Induced Injuries.

"This is my floor. I am head of this area, the Dai Llewellyn Ward. Some serious cases come here, and often times it is a matter of life and death," he said grimly.

Harry and Neville stayed close, hearing a few moans from some of the rooms. Suddenly, they heard a commotion from down the hall.

"Healer Smethwyk! Healer Smethwyk!" a nurse cried, hurrying from one of the rooms far down the hall. "Code Lilac!"

With a curse, Healer Smethwyk suddenly stopped and whirled around to face Harry and Neville after glancing at the sign on the door they were right next to. "I need to handle this," he stated, before pushing the door open and sticking his head in. "Mr. and Mrs. Hovel, I know this is an odd and sudden request, but could I have you watch these two boys for me for a moment? I'll provide free treatment for your son today."

"O-of course, Healer," came the reply.

Smethwyk turned back to Harry and Neville. "Stay in this room until I return. I shouldn't be too long."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, hearing the urgency in the older man's voice.

With that, Harry and Neville were gently but hurriedly pushed into the room. The door shut behind them.

"Uh, hello," a man by the bed said as he stood up.

There was a young boy lying in the bed with a book on his lap. There was a massive bandage around his arm. On the other side of the bed was a woman in a rocking chair, cradling an infant.

"Hello," Harry said, taking a few steps in.

"I am Mr. Jake Hovel. This is my wife, Mary, our son, Andy, and daughter, Ann," the man said, walking to them and holding out his hand. Harry took it.

"I'm Harry Potter, and this is my best friend, Neville Longbottom. Uh, sorry about intruding like this," he said awkwardly.

"Mr. Potter?" Mrs. Hovel questioned as Mr. Hovel shook Neville's hand. "The child healer?"

"Well, yeah, I suppose you could say that," Harry managed uncomfortably.

Mr. Hovel cleared his throat. "Forgive us. I've been out of the wizarding world for some time, and she's a muggle, so we're a bit behind the times here. The only reason we're here now is because of what's happened to Andy."

"What happened to him?" Harry asked as Andy blinked up at him and stared, wide-eyed.

Mr. Hovel sighed tiredly. "He was bitten by some rabid beast. Actually, the only reason we're here instead of in a muggle hospital is because he performed accidental magic. He banished the creature away, along with the garbage he had been taking out at the time."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"I hadn't seen it, but I definitely heard his scream and the loud boom he had caused with the banishment he performed."

"Was the bite bad?" Harry asked, following Mr. Hovel closer to the bed. Neville was close behind him.

Coming to the foot of the bed, Mrs. Hovel still rocking little Ann, Coral's coils tightened around his wrist.

:Harry:

She didn't need to say anything more. The moment she had squeezed his wrist, he sent out his magic to sense the area around him for what had unsettled her.

Harry's eyes focused on the boy.

He felt . . . a lot like Professor Lupin, but . . . softer, weaker.

Harry swallowed, glancing down at the boy's wound. If he could get close enough to diagnose him, maybe he would get a clue about why the boy felt dangerous. And maybe then he would have a clue with Lupin.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hovel . . ." Harry began, glancing to the mother. "Would you mind if I . . . well, tried to heal his wound? I could also make sure the creature's bite didn't leave anything behind."

"Oh, would you?!" she asked, so relieved. "I know it has been causing him terrible pain. It comes in waves."

The boy shifted up, suddenly looking hopeful as he put his book aside. He appeared to be around eight years old.

"A Healer told me about you," he said softly. "He told me you saved a boy's life at the magic school. Is that true?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. It's true."

"Wow. So you can really fix my arm?"

"Yeah, I should be able to," Harry said, moving around to the bed's side as Mr. Hovel motioned him over.

"So, what do you need us to do?" Mr. Hovel asked, quite open to allowing Harry to heal his son. He had read that Harry Potter was a miracle worker and was able to wield the powerful healing abilities of parselmagic.

"Nothing, but if you're skittish around snakes, let me know now," Harry said, trying not to show he was a bit surprised by their willingness to let him use parselmagic on their son.

"Snakes are awesome!" Andy cried, before cringing because he had shifted his arm.

"Well, as long as the snake won't bite . . ." Mrs. Hovel managed uneasily behind Harry.

"Oh, she won't. She's very gentle," Harry assured as he lifted his sleeve a little to reveal Coral's head.

"Wicked," Andy breathed, staring at Coral as she slithered further down Harry's arm and to his scarred hand. Andy and his family noticed the scar but didn't say anything about it.

"Alright, um, whenever you're ready," Mr. Hovel said, curious and intrigued.

Harry nodded. "Okay, first, I'm going to do a quick scan and diagnose any other problems there may be. Madam Pomfrey says it's always good to be sure," Harry said, now right up against the bed.

"Okay," Andy said as his father sat down on the other side of the bed and comfortingly took his good hand.

Harry slowly moved his left hand with Coral around it to place it on Andy's shoulder. It almost looked as if Coral was giving the boy a little kiss on his neck.

Andy giggled. "That tickles."

Harry smiled, before concentrating on his task. :What's wrong?:

Instantly, he was shown the boy's arm, terribly torn and mangled. The flesh had been ripped and pulled to such a degree that it was a miracle the boy even had a hope of keeping anything below the elbow. Harry bit back a wave of nausea as it quickly shifted, focusing on something else. There was a dark residue of magic saturating the wound, and the darkness was already coursing through the boy's veins. Focusing, Harry allowed his magic to analyze it, to get a feel for what it was. It was aggressive and wild, but not particularly evil, just ruthless. Dangerously ruthless.

A pulse suddenly boomed in Harry's ears, as if the darkness was a living thing. Harry's vision flashed with an explosion of gray, the sound in his ears morphing into a loud long howl, much deeper and stronger than any wolf's.

:Werewolf: Coral hissed.

And Harry, suddenly, understood. That was why this boy and Lupin felt so dangerous. They were werewolves.

:What should we do? What can we do?: Harry asked Coral, ignoring the Hovel's muffled gasps at hearing him speak parseltongue.

:It hasn't overtaken the child yet. We may be able to defeat it:

:Defeat it? How?:

:Well, it's a curse, so. . .:

:We could do what the book says to do to handle curses. Dissolve it: Harry answered.

:Yes, though we don't know where the left over magic will go or what it will do. Of course, it will no longer be a curse, but the magic will still be there: Coral warned. :Magic cannot be created nor destroyed:

:Well, we can't just leave the boy like this: Harry stated.

:I agree:

"Mr. Potter?" Mr. Hovel asked uncertainly. "Is something wrong?"

Harry swallowed, looking up into the man's blue eyes. "Do you know what bit him?"

Mr. Hovel became very still. "The healers don't know yet, we're still waiting for the results. They should have them soon though."

Harry closed his eyes, recalling the small bits about werewolves he had read. They were feared in society, hated and despised. It was not a pleasant life. A werewolf could not marry, could not own property, and was rarely able to even obtain a job.

And now this boy had that to look forward to - that is, if Harry didn't stop it.

"I know what bit him, but I believe I can handle it and cure him. If you let me try," Harry stated.

"What? What's wrong with my boy? What bit him?" Mrs. Hovel cried, while trying to keep her voice level so she wouldn't scare her baby daughter.

"It was a werewolf, wasn't it?" Andy whispered.

Harry turned his face to him and met his eyes. "Yes."

Well, whatever composure the mother had had went out the window, and the baby soon followed her mother's wails.

"Silencio!" Mr. Hovel bellowed, silencing his wife and his daughter with a sorrowful but earnest look as he reached across the bed and gripped Harry's right arm firmly. "Do it, Mr. Potter. Do whatever you think you can do to help my son. Do it now."

Harry's heart was in his throat as he stared into the desperate eyes of the fearful father.

Had his father looked that distraught when Voldemort came into their home? Had he been this forceful in his words to his mum? Had he gripped her arm this hard when he told her to get to his room?

Harry swallowed thickly as he looked to Neville who was now as white as a sheet.

"Tell me if anyone is coming, Neville, and don't let them pass," he stated boldly, not sure what would happen during his attempt and still clueless as to what the magic from the curse would do if or when it was dissolved. "Mrs. Hovel, take your daughter over there and stay back. Mr. Hovel-"

"No one will interrupt you, Mr. Potter," he stated, already by the door with Neville. "I will stand here."

Harry nodded, before turning his back to them all.

:I think I should heal the wound first: Harry told Coral.

:Yes:

"Alright, Andy, I'm going to need to remove your bandage so I can heal your arm before I can take care of the other problem. I'm going to go ahead and numb you now," Harry said, deciding it was best to say what he was doing before he did it.

"Okay," Andy said with a gulp.

"You can close your eyes if you wish," Harry suggested, though the boy's eyes remained fixated on Coral and Harry's hands.

:Nerves, sleep: he whispered, brushing his left hand over the boy's entire bandaged arm.

The boy gasped in surprise, before he relaxed, clearly more comfortable than he was before.

Slowly, Harry began undoing the cloth, unwrapping it bit by bit.

"This isn't a pretty wound," Harry stated, now not only speaking to Andy directly, but all in the room. "You can close your eyes or look away anytime."

He removed the rest of the cloth. It was coated in ointments and blood and smelled of a bitter waxy material. Putting it aside, the wound was completely exposed. It looked just as Harry had been shown. It looked like a wild animal had taken hold and just shook its head as hard as it could back and forth, worsening the injury.

"He got me pretty good, huh?" Andy whispered.

"He did," Harry said, carefully holding the boy's arm level with his right hand as he brought his left with Coral above the wound. "Alright, ready?" he asked, looking at the boy.

"Ready," Andy said.

:Rips and tears, mend; wound, heal: Harry stated, weaving his magic around Andy's and using both to fuel the healing.

They watched the muscle reattach to itself and the tissues surrounding it shift back as the swelling disappeared throughout the wound. The gnarled skin smoothed out and stretched over the newly healed flesh, until it finally met the healing skin on the other side. And there, faintly, left over from the horrendous wound, was a long, barely visible scar. It stretched from the boy's wrist to his elbow, curving unevenly across the top of his forearm.

Harry frowned.

:It's a curse scar, Harry; this is the best we can do: Coral stated as Harry canceled the numbing.

"It's a curse scar. I forgot you can't remove them," Harry said with a soft smile, briefly touching his forehead where his own curse scar was.

"It's alright, this is an awesome scar," Andy said, slightly pleased. "No one at school will be able to top it!"

Harry smiled, before growing serious, part of him wondering where Healer Smethwyk was. He could be back at any moment, and who knew if they would allow him to do this. He had to get this done, asap.

Harry got on the bed, kneeling beside Andy.

:I think it'll be best if you put your right hand on his chest and your left with me on his forehead, your palm right above his nose:

:The third eye, right: Harry agreed. "Okay Andy, go ahead and lay completely on your back for me."

Andy did so without question as he glanced at his father who gave him an encouraging nod. His mother was currently rocking his little sister, her lips bone white with worry as she pressed them together, tears in her eyes.

Doing as Coral had suggested, Harry positioned himself beside Andy, leaning over him and placing one hand over his heart and the other on his forehead.

"I want you to relax. I want your magic as still and as calm as possible because I am going to manipulate it with mine to destroy the curse. Can you be calm for me?" Harry asked.

Andy nodded stiffly under his left hand as he closed his eyes.

"Don't let anyone near this bed," Harry stated, not wanting any interruptions or distractions.

:Ready, Coral?:

:Ready:

Harry inhaled, gathering his magic at his center as he had practiced a dozen times before in the infirmary under the watch of Pomfrey. He let it churn, slowly letting it seep down towards his hands and he stretched out to take hold of Andy's magic once again.

:Curse, be no more: he stated firmly as he released a pulse of his magic and wove it around Andy's to combat the curse.

Harry's eyes were open, staring at the boy's face, as he made contact with the curse, feeling it beat within the boy's blood. With no hesitation, his magic zeroed in on every strand of the curse, surrounding it with thick power and purpose.

Harry felt Andy stiffen, but he held him, suddenly feeling the curse crumble in their magic. Exhaling, Harry slowly began to pull his magic back after a long moment, no longer sensing any bit of the curse left.

:Stop: Coral stated, and Harry quickly realized why.

The magic that had made up the curse was there, boiling at the boy's center, threatening to spill over and flood the boy's core. Harry quickly did the only thing he could think of and engulfed the mass with his magic.

:Calm . . . calm . . .: Harry whispered over and over, until finally. . . .

It surged.

"Harry!" Neville cried.

His vision flashed white, and he knew he was no longer on the bed. Though, where he was exactly, he had no idea.

The next thing Harry knew was the fact he was flat on his back on the cold hospital room floor.

"Harry, are you alright?" Neville asked, kneeling over him with Mrs. Hovel hovering just behind him looking terribly worried.

:Coral?: Harry gasped.

:I believe you are fine, Harry, though the left over magic from the curse has been absorbed by you and the boy:

:Are you okay?:

:Yes, thank you:

"I'm alright," Harry said finally, sitting up, just as the door to the room was slammed open.

"What is the idea of you locking the door?!" Healer Smethwyk asked heatedly, his eyes blazing.

"That was my doing, Healer Smethwyk," Mr. Hovel stated, stepping between him and the rest in the room.

Healer Smethwyk, who was now joined by three other healers, quickly looked around the room, trying to learn anything they could.

"Why?" Smethwyk asked, entering the room as Mr. Hovel stepped back to join his wife and daughter to the left.

"He healed me, look!" Andy exclaimed, standing on his bed and waving his healed arm about proudly, never minding the thin hospital gown he was wearing.

The healers gaped, before rushing forward.

"How is this possible?" one asked, grabbing hold of the boy's arm and pointing at the faint, long ragged scar.

"But it had conflicted with our healing spells," another stated.

"This is a miracle!"

"How do you feel?" Smethwyk asked Andy.

"Fine! But I'm hungry. Mom, can I have cake?" he replied.

Harry and Neville moved as far as they could from the confused doctors, coming to a stop beside Mr. Hovel. Harry felt the man place a hand on his shoulder as Andy managed to break through all the chatter and point firmly at Harry.

"I told you! Harry did it!"

With that, everyone went silent and turned to face the one Andy was pointing to.

Harry swallowed.

"Is this true, Mr. Potter?" Healer Smethwyk asked slowly.

"Y-yes, sir," he answered.

Everyone was completely still, staring at him. Coral took that moment to emerge from his sleeve.

A nurse behind Smethwyk gasped, while another put a calming hand on the woman's shoulder.

"It's his familiar. It's what helps him perform parselmagic," the older Healer calmly said. "I read it in the Daily Prophet."

"And what did you do exactly?" Smethwyk asked Harry.

"I healed his arm and got rid of the curse before it could completely take hold of him," Harry stated.

"Curse?"

Harry straightened, not liking the looks some of the Healers were giving him now.

"The creature that bit him," Harry began, only to slowly glance up at Mr. Hovel, whose hand was still on his shoulder.

"Mr. Potter offered to attempt to heal my son's wound. Before doing so, he stated he would be scanning for any other issues. He told us he found a curse, and that it was from the bite, but that he was confident he could remove it if we let him. We let him," Mr. Hovel roughly summarized.

Smethwyk was now staring, noticeably unnerved now, at Harry. With that stare, Harry knew Smethwyk knew. He knew Andy had been bitten by a werewolf.

"Do you believe you got rid of said curse?" Smethwyk questioned breathlessly, choosing not to identify the curse.

"I know I did. The curse has been completely dissolved curse and-" Harry felt Coral tighten her hold of him, causing him to carefully think about what he was saying. He smoothly cleared his throat. "And I am confident Andy is perfectly fine now."

He had decided to keep the fact he and Andy had absorbed the left over magic to himself. Giving that bit of information wouldn't help anyone.

Mrs. Hovel gave a grateful cry before turning to Harry and giving him a hug, her daughter squirming all the while.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter, thank you so much!" she cried, squishing him against her.

After a moment, she was pulled away by Mr. Hovel, to which Harry was thankful. Coral was amused.

Suddenly, Healer Smethwyk was right in front of Harry. "Mr. Potter, I don't know how you managed to heal Andy's arm with that curse, but believe me when I say you have done this family a mighty service. It would have taken several weeks for that to have healed completely, and it would have only been thanks to the full moon, which isn't exactly a blessing to those bearing this curse."

"He's not a werewolf," Harry said firmly. "Not anymore."

Smethwyk and the other healers looked skeptically at him.

"If you don't believe me, test him again, but I'm telling you, he's not a werewolf," Harry reiterated.

"That's not possible," Smethwyk stated.

"It is. I did it."

"Retest him," Mr. Hovel said. "Test my son again."

Smethwyk turned to Andy's dad. "Very well."

O o O o O

Severus entered the Great Hall, part of him actually looking forward to the holidays. It had been a long time since he had really been able to enjoy a Christmas, one without war and the constant fear of death around every corner.

But not all was well. Severus was reminded of this when he had gone to the Headmaster's office a few days before the holiday break started.

Albus told him there was something in the forest attacking the unicorns. So far, one had even been killed and drained of blood. In not so many words, Dumbledore admitted he believed it was Voldemort. Within that admission, Severus also learned that Dumbledore had confronted something in the forest around the same time when the unicorn had been found by Hagrid.

The battle had been brief, and the being had fled quickly, but not before blasting the clearing Dumbledore had been in to smithereens.

"I am sure whatever I confronted is what's endangering the unicorns, Severus. And let me tell you, if it is what we fear, he has gained strength quickly, and that is worrisome," Dumbledore told him, carefully wrapping his injured hand with a white cloth.

Severus was still amazed the old man had made it out of there with only one injury. Not long after he had been told what had happened, he went and investigated the area. He found the clearing totally charred and blackened, the trees completely disintegrated within the forty foot diameter area. Standing at the edge, Severus had stilled.

He knew who had done this, and it wasn't Voldemort, or, at least, not only him.

Peter Pettigrew's preferred spell was a variant of Bombarda. A spell whose remnants looked exactly like what he found in the Forbidden Forest.

Peter was in the forest, working with the Dark Lord.

"Alright there, Profess'r Snape?" Hagrid asked him as he approached the head table.

"Yes, Hagrid; good morning," Severus said formally, taking a seat between him and Professor Flitwick.

Hagrid beamed.

There were a few students in the Great Hall, having remained for the holidays, the Weasleys included.

Severus looked down at the near empty Gryffindor table to find the Weasley boys there. Ron had seemed to settle into school life nicely, though he was still bummed out about having lost his rat. The Twins were their usual selves, up to harmless mischief. And Percy remained, well, Percy.

With a muffled sigh, Severus pushed their future deaths from his mind and focused on his breakfast as the morning post was delivered by owls. He took his newspaper and left it folded by his plate. He would read it later.

"Oh! Mr. Potter, I oughta throttle you!" Pomfrey suddenly roared from the end of the table.

Everyone in the Great Hall turned and stared.

There, fuming with steam practically pouring from her ears, was Madam Pomfrey, seething as she stared at the front page of the Daily Prophet, muttering under her breath as she read.

With a sinking feeling in his gut, Severus quickly grabbed his paper and opened it.

"Oh, merciful Merlin," Flitwick breathed beside him as he looked over at Severus' paper to read the title of the first article.

Severus' grip tightened, taking in the bold words plastered across the entire span of the paper's front page.

HARRY POTTER HEALS BOY OF LYCANTHROPY AT ST. MUNGO'S-HEALERS CONFIRM!

And beneath these words was the picture of the cured boy, Andy, standing tall in his hospital gown and holding his scarred arm out for the camera with his family standing behind him.

Severus could only stare. How was this possible? In the future he had never done this. Granted . . . he had never tried.

"Oh my," Dumbledore stated rather tonelessly, lifting up his own copy as his eyebrows rose.