Thankfully, Ron was unconscious. Harry couldn't imagine the level of pain he'd be in otherwise.
Molly and Arthur appeared beyond tears as they stood at what would be their third son's deathbed. While Severus quietly consulted with Ron's mediwitch near the door, Harry stood with his arm around Hermione's shoulders. She was sobbing soundlessly. Her entire body was shaking like she'd been jinxed.
Harry could appreciate the feeling. He wasn't that steady himself. He still wasn't certain that he wasn't going to throw up. It didn't take a genius to see that Ron didn't have long left for this world.
In the bed across the room, Tom McGregor, the heavy-set, dark haired Auror who'd been so antagonistic towards Severus in October, floated in even worse shape, his mother and sister keeping vigil at his bedside.
"Do we know what happened?" Harry whispered, not wanting to disturb Hermione, but needing to know.
"Chief Lawrence said that Ron and his team actually found Burke when they returned to search one of his holdings a second time," Hermione reported. "Dan Martin and five other Aurors are dead. Only Ron and Tom survived the duel . . . and . . . and . . . ."
Harry tightened his arm around her. His own eyes were stinging. "Burke took out eight Aurors by himself?"
Severus had warned him of Burke's potential level of power back in October, but hearing about how dangerous someone was and seeing him all but kill your oldest friend were two different things.
Hermione gave another of those despairing nods. "What are we going to do, Harry? There's never been anything the three of us couldn't face or fix together, but this . . . ."
Harry gathered her close as she broke entirely. "He's not dead yet. We have to concentrate on that. Where there's life; there's hope."
"Do you really believe that?" Hermione asked in a broken voice.
Feeling Molly and Arthur's red-rimmed gazes settle on him as well, he firmly answered. "I do."
Though what chance there was for the burned husk lying there so still and gruesome, Harry had no idea. But with these people who were more than family turning to him for hope, it was the only answer he could give.
Ron . . . the emotions that swelled up inside him when he tried to equate the horror before him with his beloved more-than-brother all but choked him.
The volume of the conversation behind them rose alarmingly.
"This is all you've done for them?" Severus' voice demanded with a scorn and utter contempt Harry hadn't heard since his own schooldays,
"We've performed every healing spell known to medicine on them," the harassed looking blonde mediwitch insisted.
Severus had accosted the woman as soon as she entered the room, so Harry didn't even know her name.
"Not every spell," Severus corrected, his dark gaze scanning the medical chart he'd taken from the foot of Ron's bed. "I note that the Sanguinis Philos is absent from your chart."
The mediwitch seemed shocked. "Let me rephrase that. We have performed all legal healing spells."
Harry and Hermione drifted over towards the pair at the door.
"What's this Sanguinis Philos?" Hermione asked.
"It's blood magic. The Ministry is debating its legality even as we speak," the mediwitch said.
"I thought all blood magic was illegal by its nature," Hermione said.
"Sanguinis Philos has always been the exception," Severus explained. "Every time the Ministry has come close to outlawing it, something like this happens and they are forced to reconsider their decision."
"I won't sanction blood magic in my ward," the mediwitch insisted.
"Fortunately, for Auror Weasley's sake, the decision is not yours to make," Severus snapped, and then turned to Hermione. "I can have the potion brewed in an hour. I can't promise that it will cure or even save him, but it's the only possibility for survival. Left as he is, your husband will be dead in a day."
"If that long," Hermione, ever the realist in their group, answered.
"You're not seriously going along with this?" the mediwitch demanded.
Hermione stared at the woman. "He's my husband. I'll do anything I can to save him."
"I won't sanction it," the mediwitch insisted.
Hermione's temper seemed to break at that point. "Fine. Maybe you should do us all a favour and just leave so we can get to work here, then?"
With a huff and a flounce of her white robes, the mediwitch departed.
Once the mediwitch was gone, Hermione turned to Severus and asked, "What can I do to help you?"
"I'll need a lock of his hair," Severus said.
"All right. I'll get it now," Hermione said without hesitation, turning quickly towards the bed. Strangely enough, the only part of Ron not completely damaged by burns was the top of his head. A huge patch of his red curls stuck out of the raw flesh.
"What about the blood?" Harry asked.
"It must be the blood of someone who loves him," Severus replied.
"I can come back to your lab with you," Hermione offered, returning with a hank of red hair in her hand.
Severus looked from Hermione to Harry. "It need not be a romantic love. I was thinking that Harry's blood would be more efficacious. The potion will allow the person who donates his blood to physically link his power to the afflicted person and will him to heal. Harry is the most powerful wizard among us."
That seemed to cheer Hermione. "Yes, of course. That makes sense. Harry?"
"I'll go back with Severus and help him brew it," Harry promised. "We'll be back as soon as possible."
"Ah, excuse me, Professor Snape, is it?" The dark-haired young woman who'd been standing beside McGregor's bed approached their group.
"Yes?" Severus answered.
"I couldn't help but overhear what you just said. I'm Tom's sister, Alice McGregor. They – they say there's no hope for him. I was wondering . . . ?"
To Harry's delight, Severus didn't make the young woman beg.
"I'll need a sample of his hair and several drops of a donor's blood," Severus said.
"Alice? What are you doing?" McGregor's visibly overwrought, silver-haired mother demanded from the other side of the room. "You know who he is, what he is -"
"I'd make a deal with the Devil himself to save Tom, Mum," Alice replied. "And do try to be polite. Professor Snape has agreed to help us."
"Not quite the Devil, but I'll do what I can to assist your brother," Severus said.
"I'm sorry for my mother's rudeness." Alice McGregor's cheeks filled with colour. "She's not herself right now."
To Harry's shock, Severus was actually civil. "That's understandable, given the circumstances."
"That's very kind of you. Thank you so much for agreeing to help Tom, Professor Snape. I know that your interactions with him weren't exactly . . . pleasant. Whatever your assistance costs, sir, I'd be happy to -"
"There will be no charge. I will, however, require a sample of your blood. If you would put it in this vial?" Severus offered her an empty brown stoppered bottle and a small, sharp-looking knife.
Harry wondered if Severus carried the things on him or if he'd silently summoned them. Severus' right hand had been in his pocket a moment ago, so he could have had his hand on his wand for the silent summoning.
Alice took the items and returned to her brother's bedside to obtain the needed hair.
Less than three minutes later, Harry was flooing back to the castle.
Severus made a mad dash from the hearth in his sitting room to the Potions supply cupboard between his quarters and the lab. Up on a ladder to reach the uppermost shelves, Severus passed the ingredient jars down to Harry. Either all the jars had been recently restocked, or else the ingredients were rarely used.
Harry took mental note of them. All their names seemed unfamiliar.
Once in the lab, Severus handed him a tiny knife and bottle identical to those he'd given Alice McGregor.
"Three to five drops should be more than sufficient," Severus said.
Harry filled the bottle half way before handing the tiny vial back to Severus.
"We're ready to begin now," Severus said.
Harry was so familiar with the Potions lab now that he helped Severus set up the cauldrons on autopilot.
Two cauldrons, two potions. Severus handed him a sheet with the brewing instructions. Back in school, he'd resented Severus' overly detailed instructions, but he found himself appreciating the attention to detail now.
Keeping a careful eye on his progress, Severus set Harry to brewing McGregor's potion while Severus handled Ron's.
Harry carefully copied every move Severus made.
"It's a pity you fell for the DADA Instructor glamour, Potter," Severus commented after they'd added the blood to the brew. "You'd have made a half decent Potions master."
"Watch out. All that praise will go to my head," Harry tried to joke. It beat wishing the potion to brew faster with all his might. "Will this really work?"
Severus was silent a moment as he stirred the steaming, malodorous pot. Both brews had turned a blood-red with the addition of the blood. "Your level of power is . . . extraordinary and completely unprecedented. There is a chance, albeit a slim one, that Auror Weasley will survive."
"And McGregor?" Harry asked in a low voice.
Severus gave a slow, negative shake of his head. "I think not. But, if there is even a chance . . . ."
"We must take it," Harry completed Severus' dangling sentence.
Severus nodded and returned his full attention to stirring the cauldron.
A half hour later, both bubbling brews were decanted into two large glass bottles. Severus carefully labelled each and then spelled them with an impervious charm for safe transport.
"Oh, you're back. Thank God," Hermione said, rushing to meet them as they re-entered the hospital room.
"How is he?" Harry softly asked; though he hardly needed to. The grim figure floating above the bed appeared unaltered.
"The same, which I suppose is a blessing," Hermione said. Her face was as grey as the stone underfoot. "If he should wake . . . the pain will be . . . ."
"We've got the potion," Harry said, doing his best to stay positive, despite the living horror floating before him. "I'll do everything I can."
"I know that," Hermione whispered. "It's just . . . ."
"I'm scared, too," Harry softly admitted, "but . . . we've been scared before. We'll get through this. All of us. Severus says this will work, and you know he's never wrong about these things."
Hermione gave an empty looking nod.
Severus came up behind him and laid a soft hand on his shoulder.
Harry knew it was ridiculous, but he took heart from that simple contact.
He turned to see Severus and Alice McGregor standing close behind them.
"It's time," Severus said. Harry watched Severus withdraw the charmed potion bottles from his robes, which he then set to floating in the air before him while he extracted two smaller vials from another robe pocket. "We will fill these vials to the top and administer them to the patients. The blood donors, that would be you and Miss McGregor, will wait one minute and then take hold of the patient's hand. You must create a bridge between the patient and yourself, through which you will channel your wizard's energy, concentrating all the while on healing and repairing the patient's damaged systems. Do you think you can do that?" Severus asked.
The question seemed to be directed at the upset young woman beside him. Both he and Severus knew that Harry did something very similar to this every night in bed.
Both Alice McGregor and he gave a nod of agreement.
Severus moved to a table by the wall. Placing one of the Sanguinis Philos bottles on the table, he opened the one remaining in his right hand and then carefully filled one of the small vials with the red potion. Afterwards, he did the same with the remaining bottle.
Leaving the two large potion bottles on the table, Severus brought the smaller vials over to Alice and him.
It was strange, but the Sanguinis Philos bottle still felt hot as Harry took hold of it, even though the potion had long cooled.
Trying to keep his courage up, Harry slowly approached Ron's bed. He knew that nine-tenths of all magic was intent. The accuracy of magical results was usually tied to the level of a wizard's belief in his own abilities. He knew how strong his freaky powers were, but even though he believed in his own abilities, it was difficult to accept that anything or anyone could repair the hideous damage done to Ron's body.
As he stood there frozen beside Ron's bed, staring at the gruesome figure, he felt a tall presence step very close behind him. Darkness and warmth seemed to embrace him from behind, even though Severus confined his touch to a totally respectable hand on his arm.
"You can do this," Severus whispered close to his ear. The trail of moist breath made him shiver. "If anyone can save him; it is you. Here, give me the vial."
Severus reached around him and took the vial out of his frozen fingers.
It was all Harry could do to hold onto his lunch as his lover's hand moved to the horrid remains of Ron's face. One long, yellow-tinged index finger reached out to gently open the gash under the bare cartilage of Ron's nose that had once been Harry's best friend's mouth. The contents of his stomach surged upwards when he saw the reddish pulp coating Severus' finger after he'd poured the contents of the vial into Ron's open mouth and then used the same finger to move the jaw closed again. The gentleness with which Severus touched Ron was astounding. That his Slytherin lover would find the courage to act when his own nerve deserted him moved him deeply.
After transferring the empty vial to his left hand, Severus took hold of Harry's right hand. Harry was intensely aware of Hermione, Molly, and Arthur's gazes as Severus guided his hand towards the bloody looking claw of bones that was all that was left of Ron's hand.
