Aftermath
“Harry?” Lucius asked as he stared at the rocks. A few parted to reveal Harry’s face. He blinked at Lucius slowly before he glanced up and noted the low light coming from the cell’s window.
“Morning,” Harry said, glad he hadn’t unintentionally woken the man.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Lucius asked. He watched as the rocks circling Harry soared high so as to leave Harry’s face visible. Given that Harry was looking at Lucius, it was clear to the man that this movement was done subconsciously.
“It’s like I took a pepper-up potion, only it’s less pleasant,” Harry responded.
“Still doing things wandlessly, I see,” said Albert as he too sat up on his cot. Like Lucius, he watched the movement of the rocks and was impressed by Harry’s ability to converse and keep up the fluid motion.
“It helps,” said Harry. He noted that his illusions on the older man were still holding strong. “I’m not sure how to explain. It’s like each spell releases some... pressure.”
“Like a magical burp?” asked Crabbe.
“I guess,” Harry snorted. Reluctantly he levitated the rocks away from him. He lined many against his own walls but had to return some to the hallway and the other cells. As soon as all the pebbles were on the ground, the uncomfortable feeling of having Burke’s soul wedged in him returned. He was tempted to start levitating the rocks again, but if the other prisoners were waking up then the guards would be by with their breakfast in the next hour or so. Harry couldn’t chance it.
“Have you tested what you can do?” asked Lucius.
“No. I’ve been focused on the rocks,” as soon as Harry revealed this, he felt rather stupid. He’d spent hours playing with rocks instead of doing something more productive.
“I can’t always control it,” Harry admitted. “If I concentrate, like with the rocks, I can easily do the magic... but it also happens when I don’t intend to. Like with the light spell last night. I’d just thought that it needed to be brighter and suddenly we were blinded by light. I didn’t mean to cast the spell, it just happened because I thought about it. If this keeps up...”
“You’ll get caught,” Lestrange finished Harry’s thought.
“Yeah,” he worried.
“Well, you’ll just have to practice,” the man concluded.
“Think you can make this water warm?” asked Albert as he washed his hands after his morning piss. “Cheers,” he said almost immediately after, which informed the others that Harry had once again performed magic soundlessly and wandlessly.
“Do you mind making the cells a bit warmer?” asked Crabbe. “If it’s not a strain, I mean.”
Harry was running hot ever since he consumed Burke’s soul, but he remembered how inadequate the prison uniforms and bed sheets are. With a bit of concentration, Harry made the air around him a more pleasant temperature and pictured it spreading out. “Did that work?” he asked.
“Yes,” Lucius sighed pleasantly. “Thank you.” After the others thanked him as well, Mulciber noted that the heated area only extended to a quarter of Rabastan’s cell.
“I could try to cover the whole hallway,” Harry offered.
“No,” said Albert immediately. “We can’t trust the others to keep this a secret. Avery and Lestrange will just have to deal with huddling at the edge of their cells.”
Harry was quiet for a moment before he pointed out, “this is still me trying to do magic. I still don’t know how to stop it from happening accidentally.”
“The first step is to see what you can do,” Albert suggested. “Test the limits while you get a sense of how magic feels for you now. Once we know the scope, we can work on making it appear more natural.”
“Alright,” Harry said despite his doubts. He had no alternative suggestion, so decided to go with their plan.
“Shall we test what you can do with a pop quiz?” Lucius eagerly said. With the pressure building up once again, Harry had never been more eager for a quiz. Even though Harry could now easily perform spells without a wand, Lucius insisted that he go through the motions. He reasoned that Harry would draw less attention to himself if he could appear to cast as he normally would.
About 40 minutes into Lucius’ systematic review of charms, they heard the door at the end of the hall open. Feeling panicked, Harry recalled the heat he had spread out to the other cells. He heard Crabbe and the Lestrange brothers whine at the sudden drop in temperature and softly apologized.
Two guards passed out breakfast without their usual sneers or loud noises that woke the dozing prisoners. They worked quickly and efficiently. When they neared Harry, he made sure to move slowly as if he was still injured. The guard passing Harry his food, cringed at the sight of his injuries and looked away. He left without offering to heal him.
Harry picked at his food wishing it was something else for a change. He froze when he suddenly tasted Mrs. Weasley’s Sunday roast. He concentrated on his food and was delighted when his next mouthful tasted like treacle tart. Harry felt mischievous as he focused on Lucius’ food and shared the Sunday roast flavour. He giggled when Lucius paused mid-chew with wide eyes when he registered the change.
“Probably should have warned you,” Harry said with a smile.
“It’s alright. Good actually. Though a bit jarring since the taste and texture don’t match,” Lucius said but scooped up another sporkful quickly.
“I can change the flavour if you want,” Harry offered.
“No, this is heaven,” Lucius said. Harry wisely did not inform the man that it was based on Weasley cooking.
Harry easily changed Albert’s meal as well. The man was just as grateful and quickly ate his meal with previously unseen gusto. Harry was unable to fully modify the other prisoners’ meals as their trays would not fit through the bars except for where they placed them when finished. He was able to change the taste of their bread if they held it out for him.
“Any requests?” Harry asked.
“Raspberries,” said Crabbe immediately. Harry thought it was an odd choice but was more than happy to provide. All the other prisoners were equally grateful despite remarking on the disconnect between the sight and smell, and the taste. But they agreed that it was best not to chance the guards seeing any accidental leftovers that didn’t look like Azkaban’s standard meal.
“I have a suggestion for our heating problem,” offered Albert. “We can do a low-powered ward in each cell. If confined to the dimensions of the cell, the guards won’t notice when they pass by.”
“What if they step into the cell?” asked Lestrange. It took Albert and Avery a moment to adjust the plan, but they eventually declared they’d tie the wards to blood magic. Only the prisoner keyed into the ward would feel the additional warmth.
Albert drew the warding symbols with a piece of chalk that Harry had conjured for him. He had Crabbe and Harry repeat the symbols on their own wall. Lucius used Harry’s drawing to create his own. Likewise, Lestrange used Lucius’ and so on. With Albert’s guidance, Harry was able to activate the wards in Lucius’, Albert’s and his own cells. The latter he thought was unnecessary as he felt rather hot, but Albert pointed out that Harry didn’t know if his power-up was permanent.
It took a bit of maneuvering with some transfigured mirrors, but Harry was able to see into Crabbe and Lestrange’s cells to activate their wards. Unfortunately for the others, their wards would could only be activated the next time Harry was in the hallway. Luckily the chalk lines were faint enough that they should avoid detection.
Once the wards were complete, Lucius encouraged Harry to continue reviewing charms. A couple of times, he corrected Harry’s stance but overall was pleased by how much Harry retained of their lessons. Every so often, Lucius paused and asked Harry to describe what he was feeling. Eventually, Harry got a feel for how the magic built up within him and passed out into the world. Harry found he was repeating himself, which didn’t seem helpful to him until he subconsciously deodorised the whole area after Lestrange had gone to the bathroom. Harry belatedly realized that his sense of the magic in both cases was the same. He was not able to stop any accidental magic, he could adjust the strength of the spell if he caught it as it happened.
Given Harry’s success with charms, the other men were all eager to see how Harry would do with the subjects they taught him. Harry initially refused to cast any of the darks arts spells, but the others talked him into a compromise. He would only cast the spells that had a counter. Lestrange offered to be Harry’s practice dummy.
“That is so gross,” Harry said as he watched the toenails on the foot Lestrange stuck out of his cell detach and curl in on themselves. It was even more cringe-worthy to see it happen than Harry would have guessed the first time they told him about that spell. “Does it hurt?”
“Of course it hurts,” despite his words, Lestrange’s tone wasn’t harsh. “Nails are bloody detaching and reattaching themselves.”
Harry immediately cast the counter and Lestrange’s nails settled into their natural state.
“Perfect execution,” observed Lestrange. Considering how often they made Harry practice the spells each day he’d been there, it would have been embarrassing if he couldn’t properly cast them. Still, Harry couldn’t stop smiling each time they gave him a genuine compliment. That sense of pride was not diminished even if it was for perfectly performing a dark arts spell.
Once Harry had also gone through a review for defense against the dark arts and transfiguration, Albert pointedly cleared his throat. “Perhaps we can focus on more practical spells?” he said.
“Are you about to ask me to transfigure you some parchment so you can give me alchemy worksheets?” Harry asked. He was constantly amused at how each of these men thought the subject they were teaching him was more valuable than the others.
“Not a bad idea,” Albert said as he considered it. “But I was hoping for more creature comforts.”
“Such as?” Harry asked.
“Softer toilet paper,” Albert promptly requested.
“Oh! Yes please,” Crabbe said. A second later he was holding out his toilet paper roll between the bars of his cell. The other men seemed equally as eager at that suggestion. Harry dutifully softened the toilet paper to each man’s preference.
“Anything else?” Harry asked. Despite performing spells all morning, he wasn’t the least bit tired.
“Lube!” said Mulciber.
“Er,” Harry stammered and blushed fiercely. His eyes widened when he saw Mulciber’s hand waving through the bars of his cell, expecting Harry to comply immediately.
“You don’t need us to teach you that spell, do you?” Mulciber teased. “I thought you said you knew sex spells.”
“Of course I know that spell,” Harry hissed. “I just don’t get why you’d want that now.”
“Now is as good a time as any. It’s not like I’ll have any privacy while in Azkaban,” Mulciber pointed out.
“Ugh,” Harry groaned loudly as if Mulciber was seriously inconveniencing him. In reality, he was just really embarrassed. Harry selected one of the larger rocks in his cell and transfigured it into a bottle.
“That’s not the spell for lube,” Mulciber said, sounding amused.
“I’m not conjuring lube for you every time you’re feeling randy,” Harry insisted. He turned to Lucius and asked, “how do I cast a semi-permanent transfiguration?”
“I’m sure he’ll go through that bottle before your transfiguration resets,” Albert snorted. Despite agreeing with Albert, Lucius was not one to squander the learning opportunity. He gave a quick overview of 3 common methods wizards used. Lucius suggested Harry perform the easiest one on the bottle given it was unlikely to be traced back to him. It was also the easiest of the spells to undo, but for the purpose of creating a bottle of lube, Lucius suggested it was sufficient.
As a rule, brewed lube was preferred over the conjured variety. Still, Harry doubted there was a single boy in Hogwarts that didn’t know that spell. Harry had been taught it by Fred and George. The twins had burst into the dorms one day and claimed it was their solemn duty to teach Ron essential life spells. Harry and the rest of the dorm were given a front-row seat to Ron’s humiliation, but everyone ended up learning quite a few useful spells. So, it was exceedingly easy for Harry to fill the bottle with conjured lube.
“Anyone else?” Harry asked sarcastically once he levitated the bottle over to Mulciber.
“Actually...” hedged Lestrange. Harry found himself creating two more bottles for the Lestrange brothers. Just as his blush receded, Lucius cleared his throat, causing Harry’s heart to skyrocket.
“Please don’t ask me for a bottle,” Harry turned horrified eyes to Lucius. Harry didn’t know what to do if the man asked for a bottle, let alone used it while he was in the cell across from him. He was certain his accidental magic would cause the floor to literally open up and swallow him whole.
“I was just going to request privacy charms,” Lucius said with a smirk. “I don’t want to see Dolph using your gift any more than you’ll want to hear it.”
“Oh,” Harry sighed. “I can do privacy charms!” Except, before he could put any in place, the door at the end of the hallway opened up and they were told to file out of their cells for a shower.
Harry waited until none of the guards were close to him before he angled his body to see into Avery’s cell. He activated the wards that had been set up earlier. They flashed as they activated, causing Harry to suck in his breath in fear. One of the guards turned in their direction with a frown. Harry held his breath for two nerve-wracking seconds, before the guard decided nothing was out of order and turned away.
“Can you hold another illusion?” Albert whispered. “Hold the image of the cell right in front of the door as you activate the wards?”
“That’s too much,” fretted Crabbe quietly. Normally Harry would agree, but normally he couldn’t do wandless magic with nary a thought.
“I can try,” he whispered.
“Lestrange, stand slightly to the right. Mulciber left. Block as much of the guards’ view without being obvious about it,” Lucius ordered quietly.
Harry turned his body, pretending to stretch so he could look behind him into McNair’s cell. He focused on keeping the view of the cell the same, before he activated the wards. As soon as he felt confident that it worked, he dropped the newest illusion and faced forward again. He missed the looks of awe on Crabbe and Albert’s faces but appreciated the shoulder pat Albert gave him.
Harry next focused on Mulciber’s cell and built a similar illusion. He waited until he was almost in front of the cell before he activated the wards. He breathed easier once he felt them set without any visible confirmation. He didn't have as much time to build an illusion in front of the second Lestrange brother’s cell. He knew it was sloppy work, but gambled on the fact that the guards’ attention was elsewhere.
Harry felt giddy as he walked towards the showers, high on the knowledge that he successfully got away with warding the cells. However, his good mood lasted only until he stepped into the changing room and felt the weight of everyone watching him. They were as hungry to catalog his injuries as they had been the day before with Albert.
“May I?” asked Lucius. Harry didn’t know what Lucius was asking permission for but trusted the man enough to nod in agreement anyway. A second later he felt flabbergasted when Lucius pulled him in to a hug. Despite his surprise, Harry sank into the contact.
“You’re ok,” Lucius said. He needed to be reassured just as much as Harry. Harry found himself fighting back tears as his mind traveled back to his last encounter with Burke. Harry was reluctant to show any weakness in front of the guards and prisoners but could not help but cling to Lucius. Hugs were a novel experience for Harry. He only pulled away once the hug was boarding on a socially acceptable amount of time.
Many of the other prisoners watched the exchange. It fueled the gossip about Burke attacking Harry. With each bruise Harry revealed as he undressed, the others got a better sense of how much damaged was done. Harry hated the sensation of all those eyes on him.
His companions stuck close to him. The walked beside him and took up the stalls around him. Even with this demonstration of unity, the other prisoners kept blatantly looking at Harry. The longer it went on, the more Harry started to recall the attack. Consequently, Harry scrubbed vigorously at his body until Lucius reached over and placed a hand on Harry’s arm.
“You’re clean,” he said softly. Logically, Harry knew that, but emotionally he felt the opposite. Everyone’s attention had him reliving the fight until he recalled in stark detail how it felt to have Burke all over him. The fact that he held the man’s soul made him fear he would never be rid of Burke.
“Oh, come and stir my cauldron, and if you do it right,” sang Mulciber suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention to him. He swayed his hips as he continued, “I’ll boil you up some hot strong love to keep you warm tonight.”
The man was a decent singer, but his gyrating as he soaped up his body made the scene as indecent as it was absurd. When Harry caught the man’s eye, Mulciber winked at him and continued to serenade the prisoners. The more they complained and demanded he shut up, the bigger the spectacle he caused. It drew all eyes away from Harry. His heart filled with gratitude and Harry made a mental note to conjure the man another bottle of lube.
Successfully pulled out of his funk, Harry concentrated on keeping the water warm. It wasn’t until Lucius finished washing up and still had time to bask in the warmth that he realized Harry was once again using his wandless magic to make them all more comfortable.
“We should try to add wards to the showers as well,” he suggested. Unfortunately, there was no easy way to draw the needed runes without attracting the attention of the prisoners. Harry worried he could not hold a large illusion with so much scrutiny on him already. They returned to their cells without putting anything in place.
The guards were oddly efficient when they returned the prisoners to their cells. Harry was unsure if the lack of sneering was due to the lack of dementors or scrutiny from the outside world. Harry felt it was likely the former given they still didn’t heal either Harry or Albert.
Once they were back in their cells, Mulciber confirmed that the wards in his cell worked. Albert asked Harry to transfigure some rocks into parchment and a quill so he could create quizzes as Harry had carelessly suggested. The rocks were not the ideal material to use for transfiguring into parchment or quills, but Harry had enough power to push his will into the spell.
“Anyone want anything besides lube?” Harry asked even though he cringed at the possibilities.
“I’d like to see my wife,” Lestrange said wistfully.
“Even if I had enough power to summon her, I’d rather not,” Harry replied.
“Merlin, no,” Lestrange said. “I wouldn’t subject my love to this place again. I just wish I could see her.”
“I have an idea,” Albert cut in. Harry couldn’t help but be impressed by Albert’s problem-solving skills and the sheer amount of knowledge he had. He taught Harry a new spell that called upon a person’s memory in order to place a still image on parchment. The result, if done correctly, would resemble a muggle picture. The process was simple, but Harry needed several attempts as he was not skilled in the mind arts. His first few tries resulted in something more akin to a drawing than a photo – and not a very good drawing. Harry also scrapped several blurry photos before he was able to create a realistic static photo of Bellatrix. He still frowned at the result.
“Well?” prompted Lucius after he observed Harry scowling at the photo for several minutes without discarding it like the others.
“It worked, but...” Harry grimaced at Bellatrix’s manic expression. “It’s not the most flattering picture,” he explained. Harry had to use a memory from the night of the ministry fight in order to have strong enough impression for the spell to work. The memory of Sirius’ death was too painful, so Harry focused on the moment right after he tried to crucio her.
“May I see?” asked Lestrange. Harry passed the photo to the man and waited for his criticism.
“Thank you,” Lestrange said. He sounded sincerely grateful. The sense of longing in his voice made the others uncomfortable though they could empathize.
“Careful not to smudge that with lube later tonight,” Mulciber said to break the tension. The two men snarked at each other, but it held no real heat.
Harry transfigured more rocks into parchment, roughly the size of a standard muggle photo. He focused on a new memory. When he opened his eyes, Draco’s smile greeted him. Harry sucked in a breath as a sense of longing hit him hard. It was no wonder Lestrange sounded so grateful for his photo.
“What’s that?” asked Lucius.
“Er, it didn’t work,” Harry lied. He was embarrassed that it only took one attempt to successfully create a realistic candid photo of Draco compared to the numerous attempts he'd needed for Bellatrix. Draco’s photo looked vibrant where Bellatrix’s was dark. Harry pretended to fumble his next two attempts with creating a decent photo of Draco. It was partly because he did not want to be teased about his crush, but mostly he wanted to keep a few photos for himself. On his fourth ‘attempt’, he duplicated his favourite picture and sent it over to Lucius.
“Thank you,” Lucius said and cradled the photo.
Harry created a photo for Crabbe as well. That picture was a combination of the man’s son and Goyle, since all of Harry’s memories of the other boy had Goyle in them as well. Crabbe cried quietly when Harry gave him the photo.
Harry had few memories of Theodore Nott that stood out in his mind. He settled for the time he realized that Nott was able to see thestrals. Nott looked uncomfortable being the center of attention, but Albert appreciated Harry’s gift nonetheless.
Harry had no photos to offer the others as he did not know their immediate family members.
“Just give us something pretty to look at. Anything is better than these stone walls,” said Avery. Harry picked the pinup poster of Wilda Griffiths that Seamus kept on his nightstand.
“Great taste, Potter,” complimented Avery while McNair hummed in agreement.
“This is rather detailed,” observed Mulciber.
“My dormmate has had it in our room for two years now,” Harry explained.
“I’m sure. Your dormmate,” teased Mulciber.
“You laugh now, but when you smudge your copy with lube, don’t expect me to replace it,” Harry threw back and was satisfied when Lestrange laughed uproariously.
“Now, don’t be like that, Pots,” whined Mulciber.
Conversation flowed smoothly until lunch. Harry’s eyes constantly strayed to the photos of Draco he had hidden in the folds of his sheets. If Albert or Lucius noticed, they tactfully pretended they did not. In return, Harry once again used magic to make the meal taste better than it was. Harry ate very little despite his new ability. The pressure of Burke’s soul had lessened, but the ‘full’ feeling had not completely subsided. Harry gave his bread to Crabbe and sent the rest back half-eaten.
To pass the time while he waited for the others to finish eating, Harry brainstormed spells that would improve the quality of life around Azkaban. When Lucius swept his tangled hair away before it fell into his beans, Harry grew inspired to create the man a brush. He engraved the back of the brush with etchings of a couple of dragons. He used the same mind magic he learnt for the pictures to create realistic dragons based on his memories. Harry tried to tell himself the design was chosen because Lucius would appreciate it, but he knew that wouldn’t fool anyone anymore.
“What’s another way to make a transfiguration permanent?” he asked. He was proud of his creation and wanted the brush to last. Lucius guided him in using blood magic to lock in the spell. The benefit of this method was that anyone other than Harry would have a hard time reversing the magic. The downside was that the spell would reverse itself at Harry’s death. Harry knew most people would be wary of using blood magic as it was a branch of magic that often intersected with dark arts. However, Harry knew this type of magic could be used for good. The wards meant to protect him during the summer used blood magic. Harry also recalled that Slughorn claimed his mother gave him a transfigured fish that reverted back upon her death. Harry suspected his mum had been rather gifted in blood magic.
“Thank you again, Harry,” Lucius said as he examined the brush he was gifted. He smiled as his thumb brushed over the dragons.
Before Harry could offer to create something for the others, Albert insisted that he complete the quiz he had created. This led to them focusing the afternoon on more theoretical topics. Harry knew he was being uncharacteristically invested in coursework, but his fellow prisoners helped keep him motivated. His pride grew when he created a prototype for their hypothetical glasses that could differentiate between an animagus and a natural animal. During the testing phase, Albert and Lucius’ animagus forms were outlined with a neon green glow. They needed to test the glasses with a born animal, but Harry was convinced they worked. It made him happy that he executed a complex bit of spell work that he helped create. He couldn’t wait to show Hermione.
Harry cast magic almost non-stop throughout the day, but never felt any fatigue. He might of said he was feeling normal, if he hadn’t been wide awake while the others got ready for bed. It took some convincing for Harry to get the others to sleep instead of keeping him company all night.
He spent some time levitating rocks again, but this time paying attention to how the magic felt. No longer feeling desperate, Harry grew bored of this task quickly. He took a self-indulgent break to stare at Draco’s picture using the mildest lumos he could cast. It eventually dawned on him that his behaviour bordered on creepy, so he focused on creating pictures of his friends as well. As the memories came to him easily, he produced vibrant photos of them. It was bittersweet to see Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna, but it was the photo of Ginny that made him pause. He still felt a flutter at seeing her smile. He still thought she was beautiful and strong. The thought of her with Dean still left a bad taste in his mouth. But all of those feelings paled in comparison to the longing he felt moments ago while looking at Draco’s photo.
Harry held a photo of Draco in one hand and the photo of Ginny in the other and tried to figure out if this had always been the case. His romantic feelings for Ginny were relatively new but they had been strong. His fantasies had certainly been intense, and just as frequent as the naughty thoughts he had about Draco. Both seemed equally unlikely to happen, so he had resigned himself to a non-existent love life. Until now. Lucius’s encouragement to pursue his son reframed how Harry saw their future. Draco suddenly felt like a real possibility rather than a pipe dream. It was thrilling. With a sigh, he gathered up the photos and left Draco’s photo on top. He tucked them into his pillowcase and hoped the guards wouldn’t bother to check there.
Harry decided to create an ornate handheld mirror that matched the brush he’d created earlier. He tried to match style of the dragon etchings to the brush. With more time to kill and the desire to keep doing magic, Harry embellished the mirror’s handle by adding a dragon figure that wrapped around it. He was fairly certain the others would tease him for being a smitten fool, but he rather liked the end result.
Harry had just finished performing the blood magic needed to make the mirror permanent when the door at the end of the hallway opened. The prisoners began whimpering as their dreams turned into nightmares. Harry braced himself for seeing a dementor for the first time since the incident. He hoped he’d finally get some answers.