Daemones In Caput by DesertPlanet

It was harder than expected for Healer Tanner to keep the level of professional stoicism he was expected to maintain when he saw the results of the scan. If he had seen these results without knowing who it was he was scanning, he would assume it was a case study of an autopsy from the first war against You-Know-Who.

The concussions he saw on the scan were not unusual for a teenage boy. The damage to the entire right side of his brain was. It looked as though something had ricocheted through that side of his brain years ago. In fact the damage was reading as nearly as old as the child itself. There was no doubt in his mind what caused it, especially given who the patient was lying on the bed in front of him.

It was honestly a miracle the boy had been hit by the killing curse as an infant as his brain had had the time to rewire itself.

What was more concerning that that, however, was the evidence of recent Cruciatus damage to the boy’s already damaged system. His peripheral nerves showed evidence of repeated trauma from the curse, as well as the areas around the lesion caused by the killing curse. While his brain had managed to find work-arounds for most of the damage, these repeated exposures to the Cruciatus were fracturing those connections in a far more rapid fashion than in most of the other patients he had who were victims of the same curse.

“Honestly, I don’t see any problem with you attempting to teach Mr. Potter Occlumency, professor,” Tanner said as he packed his bag. “But…”

“But, what?” Severus snapped. The test results were terrible, but if Occlumency would work to lessen the strengths of the attacks and visions and prevent further damage, what was the problem?

“Occlumency is a skill that is difficult for even the most skillful wizard. It requires time, dedication to the study, and, above all, concentration,” Tanner said, looking at Harry who was still asleep due to the study. “I don’t know how able he will be to learn this skill.”

“Potter has been able to learn anything he put his mind to,” Severus said rather confidently.

“I’m not saying he cannot learn it, I’m saying he may not have the ability to concentrate on it. Even with the restorative potions I’m prescribing, he may continue to have difficulty with concentration, memory recall, and impulsivity. None of these lend themselves well to learning a difficult topic.”

“It may be his only chance to keep the … You-Know-Who out of his mind and prevent further damage.”

“Exactly why I’m not expressly forbidding it,” Tanner said, frowning. “I just want you to keep your expectations based within reality, not on what he should be able to do or what you were able to do as a teen.”

Severus sighed exasperatedly. He had no doubt in his mind that the boy would be able to learn it if he put his mind to it, he was a Potter after all. In all likelihood, even without the brain damage the boy had, he would have struggled to learn it the proper way and would have either given up or made up his own technique. Yes, teaching the boy would be a struggle, but it couldn’t be much different from teaching the boy normally, could it.

“Here are the potions he is going to need to take,” Tanner said, handing the potions master an extensive list of potions. “I’ll be coming by every other day for the next few weeks to check his progress and, if necessary, apply additional nerve stabilization spells. Should he have another ‘episode,’ please contact me immediately.”

Severus nodded as he looked over the list of potions. None of these would be overly difficult to make, it would just be time consuming to do so. And the more time he spent away from Potter, the more time the boy had to get into trouble. Especially now as his mental capacities seemed to be … less optimal than normal. Not only would he have to make these potions, he would have to make sure the boy actually took them.

“Are there any techniques which could be used to give him more independence?” Severus asked as he continued to peruse the potions list, creating a mental list of the ingredients he would need.

“Keep a schedule complete with pictures of the activities which need doing and the time they need done. If a task requires multiple steps, list them out individually. It may also help to have an additional person or two to help monitor him and make sure he stays on task. A patient friend would be best. Keep additional stimulation to a minimum; the fewer distracting factors, the better,” Tanner said, continuing to pack up his examination tools. “Oh, and avoid sarcasm.”

That was going to be problematic.

When Harry woke up from what felt like a long nap, he was surprised to find someone sitting by his bed. It took a moment for him to realize who it was, though the shock of red hair should have been obvious.

“‘Lo, Ginny,” he mumbled, struggling to sit up. “Time izzit?”

“Hi, Harry,” Ginny said, grabbing his shoulders and helping pull him into a sitting position. “It’s just past four in the afternoon. Hermione is here too. She’s downstairs with Snape helping make some potions.”

Harry nodded as he focused on scooting over to the side of the bed, his left foot getting tangled under the sheets. How did that happen? His brain felt rather fuzzy, more so than from just waking up. He stared at it for a minute before pushing at the sheets in an effort to get them untangled. It was hard though, his left hand didn’t want to grab the sheets nor did his arm want to cooperate. And the more he struggled with the sheets, the more frustrated he got.

“Ugh!” he cried out, trying to kick them off his foot, becoming more angry when the leg didn’t want to move either.

“Harry, do you need some help?” A voice sounded from behind his right shoulder.

Whipping around, he was surprised to find someone sitting by his bed. It took a moment for him to realize who it was, though the shock of red hair should have been obvious.

“‘Lo Ginny,” he said angrily. “What’s the big idea, tying me down?! Is this a bloody joke to you?”

Ginny smiled sadly as she gently helped free his leg. She had been warned he would be more… emotionally unstable, she just didn’t expect it to be directed at her immediately. When Professor Dumbledore had approached Hermione earlier about coming to help out, she had immediately volunteered to come as well. She had initially thought it strange that the headmaster didn’t ask Ron to come as well, but after hearing what was happening, she couldn’t say she disagreed with keeping Ron at a distance for now. His patience was thin at the best of times and his temper could be explosive.

Putting Ron in to help take care of Harry right now seemed like a spelling a timed explosion: only a matter of time before something bad happened.

Once Harry’s foot was free, Ginny set about the task of trying to get the boy downstairs for dinner. It quickly became apparent that this was going to be far more of a monumental task than she expected and she understood why the additional assistance was needed. Four false starts, several more greetings, one crying jag, and ten minutes of just figuring out which shoe went on which foot, they were finally up and limping to the loo.

“You can leave me alone, Gin,” Harry said, trying to convince Ginny to give him some privacy. “I just need to use the loo.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Then why are you trying to take off your shirt?”

“Because I need to shower,” Harry said confidently. That was what they had come to the loo for, right?

“Harry, there isn’t a shower in here. Leave your shirt on,” Ginny said, exasperatedly. It was exhausting trying to track where his brain went.

“What? There’s always been a shower in here!” Harry said, looking around the room, seemingly shocked when he couldn’t find a shower in the half-bath.

“Harry, just use the loo,” Ginny said, gently pushing the boy towards the toilet and shutting the door to give him some privacy. Hopefully he would just use the loo and be done with it.

Minutes crept by, and still she didn’t hear anything from inside the toilet.

“Harry? You ok?” She called out, knocking on the door before cracking it open. Thankfully, Harry was still standing, however he hadn’t really moved from where he had been. “Are you done with the loo?”

Harry looked at the toilet once more and frowned slightly. “Yeah, I’m done.”

Ginny was skeptical of this, but didn’t push the issue. “Did you wash your hands?”

Harry nodded, though Ginny again doubted that he had done anything during the time he had been in the loo. At least he had remained clothed! She was rather worried that when she opened the door he would be completely naked.

Making their way downstairs, Ginny felt another pang of sadness as Harry leaned heavily on her in an effort to not lose his balance. He had always been so strong and agile before: soaring through the air during Quidditch, playing in the snow with Ron and Hermione, conquering all of the tasks in the TriWizard Tournament. She even remembered some of what happened during his fight against the Basilisk during her first year. To think this was the same boy was heartbreaking. Watching him struggle only strengthened her resolve to help him, even if it meant helping him with everyday tasks like tying his shoes.

Ginny had just managed to get Harry settled at the table when Hermione and Professor Snape emerged from the basement, crates of potions in hand.

“Hi Harry,” Hermione said as she sat her crates down and began unloading them into one of the cabinets in the kitchen. “How’re you feeling.”

“Weird,” Harry said, looking at his hands. His head felt fuzzy, like he hadn’t slept in days. He knew he had just woke up, but … Where was he going with this? Where even were they? He could feel his blood begin to boil as Snape joined Hermione in putting the potions away. He had something to do with this, Harry could just feel it.

“Did he have any nightmares, Ms. Weasley?” Snape asked, not looking at the boy sitting next to her.

“None that I saw,” Ginny said, looking at Harry who had a death glare at Snape. “He’s been really confused since he woke up though.”

“Hmm,” Severus hummed thoughtfully. “Better to start on the potion’s regimen now than wait any longer. Most of these have to be given twice a day and…”

“I’m NOT taking a BLOODY THING from YOU!” Harry burst out suddenly, pushing himself to his feet.

“Mr. Potter, sit down,” Snape said with the same acidity as if Neville had melted yet another cauldron. “You will take your potions as prescribed by the healer.”

“I’M not going to take them from YOU! You did this to me!” Harry said, wobbling slightly on his feet and desperately hanging onto the back of the chair for support. Sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead with the effort. “I know you did!”

“Mr. Potter, sit down now before you fall down.”

Ginny and Hermione made eye contact briefly, both knowing Snape would never be able to get Harry to calm down. They could both see the windows beginning to rattle as Harry’s magic prepared to lash out at the man he believed had done this to him. While neither Hermione nor Ginny had seen Harry perform accidental magic, they had both heard the stories of the outcomes of his outbursts. Hair coloring was one thing, but the story of what happened to Aunt Marge left both of them wondering what state Snape would be left in if Harry continued this outburst.

“Professor!” Ginny suddenly exclaimed, drawing Snape’s attention to her. “You said there was a book on ancient hexes here, would you mind showing it to me?”

Snape looked at Ginny as though she had grown two heads, however the look she was giving him made him understand exactly what she wanted. He needed to leave the room immediately and drop the argument.

Sighing exasperatedly, Severus put the last of the potions in the cabinet before checking the schedule of potions he had been given by Healer Tanner and removing the three the boy was supposed to take tonight. Thankfully, they could be spelled into his stomach should he be unwilling to take them, but that wouldn’t win him any favors in the long run.

Hermione nodded in thanks as Ginny led the potions professor out of the kitchen.

“Harry?” Hermione said softly. “Can you sit down for me please?”

Harry tried to cross his arms in defiance but quickly felt himself falling as his knee gave out. A different chair was suddenly under thrust under his knees, causing him to flop rather ungracefully into it. The shock of the feeling of falling scared him more than anything and he immediately felt his eyes fill with tears.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said, wiping his cheeks with a napkin. “Hush now, it’ll be ok.”

“Why’d you do that to me, ‘Mione?” Harry said, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Why’d you knock me over?”

Hermione sighed, at least he wasn’t angry anymore. For now. She wondered how Harry and Snape hadn’t blown up the house yet with the way they got on. Now she, Ginny, and Snape could tag team his mood swings until the mood-stabilizer potions took effect. She just had to get it in him.

“Harry, what do you know is going on?” Hermione asked softly, hoping she wouldn’t trigger another mood swing. Maybe sad-Harry would take this information better than angry-Harry would? That was her hope anyways.

“I…” Harry started then paused for a long moment. “I don’t know. Do I have a concussion?”

“Of sorts. There is a lot of damage to your nerves,” Hermione said. “It is what’s making it hard for you to do things like walk and focus.”

“Oh,” Harry mulled this over for a long time. “Do I have a concussion.”

“No, Harry,” Hermione said, feeling they would get stuck in this loop for a while. “It’s not a concussion, it was started by the killing curse that hit you when you were a baby. It got worse after You-Know-Who’s return and the apparent connection to him that you have.”

Harry sat in silence for a moment as he tried to process what happened. It was so confusing. None of it was adding up in his mind. How had he gotten here? When did Voldemort give him a concussion? He kept adding one and one and getting five. Five. Fifth. He was going to be a fifth year this year. Was he going to be able to attend classes? Had classes started?

“Hermione!” Harry suddenly whispered. “Why are we in Snape’s house? We need to be in school!”

Hermione tried hard to not laugh. She and Ginny had been warned that he struggled the most with wrapping his head around the location he was in more than anything. And, as much as she wanted to try and get him more oriented, she knew her priority would be convincing him to take the potions. The ones he was supposed to take tonight were to help with his peripheral nerves, protect his brain from further damage, and one that would help create new connections in the most heavily damaged parts of his brain.

There was also a mood stabilizer he was to take in the morning as it would last for roughly 18 hours, a potion to help with the awful tingling as his nerves reawoken, a sleep aid he could take as needed, an anti seizure potion, and a muscle relaxer. All in all, she and Snape had spent roughly six hours brewing, with her working on the more basic potions and him brewing the most complex potions she had ever seen. It wouldn’t do for any of the potions to be spit out or destroyed.

“Harry, we’re at a safe house right now,” Hermione said, smiling. She had to stay serious. “We need you to take some potions.”

“For the concussion?”

Hermione sighed, he was back on the concussion. “Yes, for the concussion. Can you take them for me? Please?”

“Do they taste bad?” Harry said, scrunching up his nose slightly. An action Hermione noticed was slightly lopsided as well.

“Horrible,” she said honestly, glad when he nodded in agreement. “Always do, don’t they.”

Harry nodded, taking the first of the potions and swallowing it down with a grimace. It tasted horrifying. Like cheddar cheese, ear wax, and dirty socks. He then looked skeptically at the other two, before sighing and taking the second one and third and downing them quickly. He had never had to drink so many potions in his life.

“You ok there, Harry?” Hermione asked, noting his slight green tinge.

“Yeah,” Harry said as his stomach settled finally. “I really have to go to the loo though.”

“Did you not go to the toilet upstairs?” Hermione asked.

Harry frowned as he tried to remember. Did he? He vaguely remembered walking into the loo and… And what? Did he go? It felt like there was a haze over his mind still. A fog that didn’t want to let go and made it so hard to focus.

“Harry? Did you need to use the loo?” Hermione asked again.

“Yeah,” Harry pushed himself up, staggering sideways as his knee immediately buckled.

Hermione quickly wrapped her arm around his waist and helped steady him as he got his leg straightened out underneath of him. As hard as it was watching him struggle, she knew it wouldn’t be long before the potions started working and he would start to feel slightly more steady on his feet. She just hoped Voldemort would ease up on the connection until Harry was stronger so they weren’t constantly taking one step forward and several steps back.

Together, they walked through out of the kitchen and through the living room where Ginny and Snape were waiting. Ginny was perusing the book collection in the large bookshelf by the fireplace and Snape was sitting on the sofa. Both Ginny and Snape looked over as Harry trudged past and into the downstairs loo with Hermione assisting in supporting his bad side.

A few moments of shuffling around and Hermione returned triumphant.

“He took the potions.”

A collective sigh was heard from the rest of the room. Hopefully, if there were no more setbacks, he would be more easy to take the potions without the need for them to tag team him.

“I believe, Ms. Granger, had this occurred during the school year, I would have been forced to give points to Gryffindor,” Snape said, not looking up from his book. If they looked hard enough, both Hermione and Ginny could swear they could see a small smile on the man’s face.

“Well, Mr. Potter, how are things going?” Healer Tanner asked, crossing his legs.

It had been four days since Harry had started on the potion regimen to hopefully save his brain and his life. Four long, grueling days. Some days were filled with emotional outbursts, leading to Severus having to ward the kitchen and all sharp objects to prevent them from flying around when Harry’s magic got a hold of them. Other days were filled with memory lapses, difficulty with walking, and poor judgement, which Severus was increasingly glad he had extended the invitation to the two Gryffindors to help him deal with.

“Ok, I guess,” Harry said, shrugging.

“Care to elaborate?” Tanner said.

Harry stared at his hands and picked at a hangnail. It was so hard to talk about himself and how he was feeling. He didn’t want anyone to think something was wrong with him, but since moving here that was nearly impossible. He still wasn’t sure what happened, but his memory was slowly getting better, as was his strength. His leg was still giving him fits but he could walk better now than just a few days ago.

“I just feel… like I’m in a fog. Or I have been. I think… I think my memory is getting better? You should ask Ginny.”

“I have. Your friends and professor say you are doing much better than before. I’m quite chuffed with the progress you have made even in these last few days, I must say.”

Harry nodded. If this was how he felt now, he must have been really bad off a few days ago. Was he even awake then? Was he awake now?

“Harry, I’ll tell you this now. I’ve already gone over this with your friends, but I want to tell this to you as well. You will need to be on these potions for the next few weeks then we shall re-evaluate which potions you need. If you have one of your visions, you absolutely need to notify your friends. There is only so much more damage your nerves can take before the damage cannot be repaired, even by magic.”

Harry nodded again. He hoped he would remember that. It was important. He should write it down. Hermione probably did.

“Does Snape know, you know, what’s wrong with me?” Harry asked.

“Mr. Potter, he was the one who noticed there was something wrong in the first place. I am aware that there is a lot of bad blood between you, but you truly owe him your life. Had he not gotten you help when he did, you would be facing much more permanent damage.”

Harry looked at the healer in shock. Snape had saved him? Snape had been the one to see something was wrong? How?

School had been in session for several weeks and a strange few weeks it had been. Hermione and Ginny were keeping a close eye on Harry, not fully trusting him to be fully compliant with the potions regimens he was supposed to be on nor trusting him to remember his schedule or homework. Some of their vigilance he was grateful for, but often he found it extremely overbearing. He was feeling back to normal. He was fine. He didn’t need their help all the time.

Snape was acting strange too.

Every so often, Harry would catch him reeling back his temper before berating any of Harry’s friends or classmates. He by no means was a changed man, nor had he suddenly become “nice” to the Gryffindors, but his temper wasn’t nearly as explosive. Unless Harry wasn’t around, then it seemed there were no holds barred.

“He doesn’t want to get into a senseless argument with you, Harry” Hermione had explained one night. “He knows your mood swings may not be entirely under your control.”

“He doesn’t want you blowing up his classroom,” Ginny clarified.

Even at dinner, when Harry’s potions would appear on the table, Snape would sit and glare at him until he drank them. It felt so odd to have someone invested in his health in this way.

Then there was one of the fourth year Ravenclaws, who kept asking about his Wackspurts and why there were so few of them this year. Ginny said Luna was a bit loony, but after the strange summer he had, Harry wondered how much truth there was to her looniness.

But now they were well into the school year and Harry was feeling fine. Quidditch practice had started up again, giving Harry something to do in his free time outside of trying to study. He had been afraid someone would have something to say about him flying, but so far no one had said much of anything. Ron was now the keeper, a fact which Harry was extremely excited for as he hadn’t had much time with his best friend this summer due to … everything.

He was healed. He was feeling fine. Life was back to as normal as it could have been with Voldemort back. Why should he have to keep taking the disgusting potions if he was feeling ok?

“Potter?!” Snape snapped as he wrapped on the workbench with his knuckles. “How many ocelot whiskers does this recipe require?”

“Um…” Harry said, frantically looking down at the recipe. When did Snape get there? “Six?”

“Then why have you cut up twelve of them? Are you planning on doubling the recipe?”

“No sir, I just…” Harry paused, sadness beginning to bubble to the surface. He had forgotten. He had stopped taking the potions a few days ago, pretending to drink them, but actually spitting them into the goblet he had been drinking juice from. But he felt fine!

“Potter. My office. Now,” Snape said. “Mr. Weasley, finish preparing the rest of the ingredients and potion.”

Harry quickly grabbed his things and headed for the professor’s office, stumbling slightly as his left foot caught on a loose flagstone. He was caught, there was no doubt about it. As soon as he made it into the office, a few tears escaped his eyes in frustration. It was so stupid; this whole thing was stupid.

“Mr. Potter, have you had another vision?” Snape said as soon as the door to the classroom was closed.

“No, sir,” Harry said, hanging his head. “Normal nightmares only.”

“Have you been taking the potions?”

“I was.”

“But you aren’t anymore?” Snape raised an eyebrow. He had been afraid of this. He knew the potions tasted terrible, but to stop taking them in the middle of the treatment would rapidly cause the symptoms to return.

Harry shook his head and whipped his eyes, wishing just this once his emotions would remain under control.

Severus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. Healer Tanner had warned him of the possibility of Potter refusing to take his potions once he started feeling back to normal. He had hoped the Gryffindors would have actually kept Potter in line. That was a bit much to expect from teenagers, even his Slytherins would have struggled with that type of responsibility.

‘Lily, give me strength to deal with your Potters,’ he thought as he summoned a repeat set of Harry’s potions from that morning and set them in front of the boy.

“Potter, drink,” he said, staring at the boy as he drank the potions. “Good. Stay in this office. Do not leave. I need to make sure your cohorts haven’t exploded my classroom yet.”

As soon as Snape left the office, Harry laid his head on the back of the chair in misery. He had screwed up. He should have just kept taking the potions. He should have just sucked it up and done it. Yeah, the flavor was bad, but was it as bad as not walking right? Or forgetting everything? Or being an emotional wreck? Not likely.

Had he caused himself irreversible damage? He vaguely remembered the healer saying something about that, but he couldn’t quite recall what the man had said. Was that what he had been talking about? Harry ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he tried to recall what the man had said.

Thankfully, Harry only had to stew for a few minutes before Snape re-entered the office and sat behind the desk.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry immediately blurted out. “I just… I just thought there wasn’t any reason to keep taking them if I felt ok. I just want to be normal and not have to worry about remembering to take potions all the time. Or be the only person in the Great Hall taking potions every morning and evening.”

Severus sighed and folded his hands in thought. Adolescence was a frustrating time to be alive. Hormones and emotions raging, trying to fit in, developing friendships and social groups. Anything out of the “norm” was looked down upon. Maybe it was a bad idea to send the potions to the boy in such a public setting.

“Potter, do you know why it is so important you finish these rounds of potions?”

“So my brain heals?”

“More than that, so your brain is protected from further damage. Once these potions are finished, I would like to begin teaching you Occlumency so you will be able to protect yourself from additional attacks. Do you know what Occlumency is?”

“No sir. I don’t think we’ve ever talked about it in class.”

“Occlumency is a form of mental magic, enabling one to protect themselves from attacks on their mind. The opposite being Legilimancy, which muggles know better as ‘mind reading,’” Severus said, looking the boy in the eyes. The child would have a long way to go in order to be a proficient occlumens; he consistently wore his emotions on his sleeve and nearly projected his thoughts to those around him!

“Oh. Would it help?” Harry said, highly interested. Anything to make the nightmares stop.

“That is the hope. But first, you must finish the potions. You still have two months left, provided you do not have any more visions,” Severus said. “Considering you have already stopped taking them once, I am afraid we will have to change the way you go about taking them so you are under direct adult supervision at the time.”

Harry nodded and sighed. He would have to go to the Hospital Wing every day now, he could just feel it.

“I shall administer them to you every day. I shall be in the Great Hall for breakfast and dinner and will deliver them to you at that time.”

Harry hung his head. That was even worse, but he deserved it. He had done this to himself, not anyone else. And Snape had been the one to notice something was wrong anyways, and long before it was actually causing problems. If ever there were someone who would be good at making sure he was taking the potions and not cheeking them, Snape was it.

“Yes sir,” Harry said, looking at his hands.

“You are free to leave. I shall see you this evening.”

Harry immediately grabbed his bag and walked to the door of the office, pausing for a moment as his hand made contact with the door handle before turning around.

“Thank you, sir,” he said before rushing out of the office.

Severus sat in silence for a few moments after the boy left. It wasn’t every day he was thanked by a student, let alone for forcing them to do something they didn’t want to do. And to think, the son of James Potter was the one thanking him.

‘Undoubtedly the man is rolling over in his grave,’ Severus thought with a smirk before returning to his classroom to prepare for the next round of dunderheads to attempt to blow the school up.