Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction / Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ Fusion of Destinies ❯ Bloody Tears ( Chapter 6 )
As Harry's life hangs by a thread, Samantha struggles with the buried memories finally coming to the surface, which may contain the key to saving Harry from the parasite ravaging his body.
Anime/Manga: Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction / Crossover Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Sci-fi / Fantasy / Action | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 10.19.2005 | Updated On: 12.31.2005 | Pages: 3 | Words: 8.8K | Visits: 678 | Status: Completed
a Harry Potter/??? crossover
Chapter 6: Bloody Tears
10-19-2005
by Grey
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series and all of its characters are the creation and property of J. K. Rowling.
This fic is dedicated to Razor Knight and CubedCinder128, whose support gave me the confidence I needed to write this thing.
Samantha stared at what appeared to be merely an ordinary, blank wall. She thought it was ridiculous, what Dumbledore had said about this particular spot on the seventh floor. But then again, she had seen many incredible, uncanny things in the past few months.... things that clashed with the innate scientific instincts she seemed to have. So she put aside her doubts and gave it a try.
Closing her eyes, she began pacing around in front of the spot Dumbledore showed her, repeatedly thinking, I need you to become a copy of my living quarters, I need you to become a copy of my living quarters, I need you to become a copy of my living quarters.... When Samantha opened her eyes again, she saw that a door had magically appeared, and promptly went through it. Inside was a room that was identical to the quarters she had been staying in ever since arriving at Hogwarts.
So, it really works, mused Samantha as she collapsed in her bed. She still felt weary from the dementor attack, but Harry's worsening condition made her feel even more sickly. If Madam Pomfrey was right, then his condition will deteriorate more rapidly because he used that magic, Samantha thought, dread clawing at her heart. Harry must've pushed himself to the limit to save me from those dementors, and now he might die because of it.
The gnawing sense of guilt that had plagued Samantha ever since the parasite first infected Harry now intensified. Samantha covered her face with her hands, feelings ashamed of herself. She truly believed that she was partly to blame for Harry's plight, and felt she had to do something about it. But what can I do? I can't get access to the medical equipment I'd need to begin studying this parasite. And even if I did, Harry's running out of time!
Samantha then realized that if Harry was to be saved, she'd have to find out why her body could absorb the parasites without becoming infected. But Pomfrey and Snape have already been analyzing my blood. They should have found something by now! she thought angrily. Unless.... unless it's something they can't uncover with magic. Oh, if only my memory would return!!
Once again, Samantha felt enraged with how she still couldn't remember anything about her past. It's insane.... even after about three months, nothing's come back to....
And then, it came to her. Her recent encounter with the dementors had jarred something within her.... something horrific. Harry said that dementors force people to relive their most traumatic memories. Is that what they did with me? Did they finally uncover what's in my head? Samantha thought back to what she had seen and felt. When trapped in that memory, it felt as if she was a mere child again, scared and helpless. That woman carrying me, and the man following her.... were they my.... mother and father?
Samantha thought back to the memory, and recalled that when looking up at the woman's face, she was terrified as well. Then she tried to remember what their surroundings were like. There were several buildings and roads, but.... they had looked all wrong. They had looked very different from the Muggle cities she had seen in the Muggle newspapers that Dumbledore let her read. The architecture and materials seemed much more advanced, what one could almost call.... futuristic.
Then Samantha remembered the strange flying creature that she had seen right before Harry's magic bested the dementors. What was it like? A sort of four-legged pterodactyl? she mused, trying to recall the image. She pictured its shape, its movements, the noises it made....
And then, it was as if a dam had burst open in her mind. She inhaled sharply as her body tensed up, and once again she became a prisoner of her buried memories.
She found herself lying face-down on the road after falling and skidding along the pavement, and the acrid fumes from the scorched buildings filled her nostrils. She tried to get to her feet, but her body was aching from the fall and from the scrapes and cuts she had, and it was difficult. Looking around, she saw her mother lying face-down a few feet away. She hobbled over to her on her tiny legs....
When she reached her, she saw that on many areas along her back, her suit had been burned away and the exposed skin was charred black. A good portion of her hair was singed too. She realized her mother's body had shielded her from the fire....
She looked around again, and saw a lifeless body nearby, horribly burned. She also noticed a powerful assault rifle was near the body. She was a bright girl, and pieced the evidence together quickly. She felt as if she would go numb from shock....
A sharp intake of breath snapped her out of her shock. Turning back around, she saw that her injured mother was struggling to get up, pushing herself up with her arms. Between choked gasps, she called out her daughter's name, blooding oozing out of her mouth when she did. Eventually, her mother managed to sit up and started looking around, no doubt for her weapon....
And then, something happened that would haunt her forever. Something burst through her mother's torso, as if she had been impaled by a giant spear. Droplets of blood splattered everywhere, including all over her face and white bodysuit....
Then her mother's body was slowly hoisted off the ground, and she could see what had killed her: it was a long, pointed tail. The tail suddenly thrashed about like a whip, hurtling her mother's dead body away like a discarded toy. But before that happened, she had caught a final glimpse of her mother's face, and it had been contorted in shock and terror....
She felt as if she would again faint from shock. But another noise snapped her out of it: a long, sonorous screech. She turned and saw who that tail belonged to. It was that strange pterodactyl-dragon, and it had landed to finish off her mother personally....
It looked far more terrifying close-up than in the air. A monstrously huge creature, it had two arms as well as hind legs, and all four appendages looked thin yet dangerously strong, and all the digits were tipped with sharp talons. It wings were attached to a hunched back, and had the shape of a bat's wings. Its body had a reddish-purple color, and a long, pointed head that looked stretched-out. Its eyes were malicious, yellow orbs with no pupils....
The pterodactyl-dragon turned to look at her, its tail whipping about malevolently. She stared back at it, frozen with fear....
Then she heard footsteps approaching. At first, she hoped it was more colonists, coming to the rescue. But that hope faded the instant she heard those bone-chilling, raspy chirps. The enemy troopers were now approaching; those horrifying soldiers that looked like giant praying mantises. They all walked toward the pterodactyl-dragon and stood around him, as if rallying around a leader....
The pterodactyl-dragon opened its mouth, and she saw flames building up within it. The next second, spinning fireballs shot toward her, but amazingly, none hit her. They merely blew chunks out of the road, but it still terrified her to no end. Then she heard more of those raspy chirps again, along with the self-satisfied roar of that huge monster. She caught on quickly: they were toying with her, prolonging her agony....
She looked around frantically to see if there was any hope of escape. About thirty feet away she saw the building that served as the colony's hospital. The metal sliding door leading inside was already open, and from the looks of it, the building wasn't receiving much power. Desperate to get away, she made a break for it, screaming and crying for her murdered family....
Amazingly, the pterodactyl-dragon and its minions didn't attack her as she fled. But the instant she stepped inside the building, it shook violently. Again, she caught on quickly: they had let her run into the building, so they could make a sport of her death and bring it down on top of her....
Still sobbing, she ran to where she knew there were stairs that led to the storage area on the lower level. She had been here for a check-up the previous day. As she hobbled down the stairs, the support beams started to give way....
Minerva McGonagall stood at the foot of Harry's bed and stared disbelievingly at his unconscious, unmoving body. The splotches where yellow slime oozed out of his skin looked thicker and larger now, and she could see spots of slime underneath his hospital robe, clinging to the cloth. I can't believe this, thought McGonagall sourly. After all he's been through, after battling He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named head-on.... he's going to be beaten by some parasite!?
She heard movement beside her, and turned to see Snape and Madam Pomfrey had walked up. Snape, his face as impassive as ever, was holding a goblet filled with some steaming potion. Pomfrey had nothing, except a face that showed grim defeat. "You've done all you can?" asked McGonagall.
"Everything I can think of, everything that's humanly possible," sobbed Madam Pomfrey. "Things took a turn for the worst once Mr. Potter conjured that Patronus. It drained almost all the strength he had left."
"What about the Elixir of Cerberus?" asked McGonagall hopefully.
Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "We gave him two doses in the last hour, but it hasn't done any good. However, Snape has one final treatment he wants to try, but after that.... I don't know what else to do."
McGonagall turned to Snape, and he automatically knew she wanted details. Snape cleared his throat, and said, "As you may know, a bezoar grants a limited resistance to some parasites as well as immunity to poisons. I've concocted a new potion, with ground up bezoars as the main ingredient. Hopefully, it will give Potter's body the ability to fight off this thing."
"Very well," said McGonagall. "Administer it immediately."
Snape nodded, then pulled out his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said, and the goblet floated over to Harry's bed, stopped right over his head. Pomfrey, wearing protective gloves, reached out and opened Harry's mouth. With a flick of his wand, Snape emptied to goblet's contents into Harry mouth.
Then the three of them waited patiently for any signs that the potion had any effect. But after several minutes, no change was apparent. "It didn't work," said Snape bitterly. "I suppose we have no choice now but to rush him to St. Mungo's. Perhaps the Healers there will come up with some treatment that's eluded us."
"I'll.... go inform the staff of St. Mungo's," said McGonagall somberly. "I'll let them know that Mr. Potter is to be transferred there as soon as possible." With that, she swept out of the hospital wing. For the first time in years, she felt as if she would burst into tears. Despite all his faults, she had a lot of respect for Harry, and couldn't bear to think of seeing him die like this.
But what worried her even more was the thought of there being more of those mysterious parasites on the loose. So far, there was still no trace of them in the castle. But McGonagall feared that soon the wizarding world - no, the ENTIRE world - would soon be faced with an unstoppable epidemic.
For several hours, all that filled her vision was blackness....
It was pitch-black in the hospital's basement, as all the light sources either had no power or had been damaged. And the collapse of the building caused by the pterodactyl-dragon and its minions had caused much of the basement's roof to cave in as well. Miraculously, though, she hadn't been in a spot where the roof came down. She could hear the steady rush of air, letting her know that a ventilation system was still running on emergency power. It must have been filtering in air from the outside though, because it reeked of scorched buildings and bodies....
All in all, she hadn't been killed in the raid, like everyone else had probably been, including her parents. She had merely been buried alive and left for dead, left to starve to death....
She started crying again, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her mind and soul were still reeling from witnessing the horrifying murders of her parents, but she was also crying because of a searing pain in her right leg. It felt as if a piece of jagged metal had dug into her leg. It probably happened when a nearby power conduit overloaded and blew open. Her injury kept her from moving. Of course, there was no point in moving. She was trapped beneath the hospital in complete darkness. She knew there was no hope of escaping....
But suddenly, a loud banging sound made her stop crying. She listened closely, and she made out a resonating banging, scraping, buzzing noise that made the whole basement reverberate. And not only was it getting louder, it was getting closer....
She was paralyzed by fear all over again. Were the invaders trying something else? Did they find out she was still alive, and wanted to have fun finishing her off?
As her young mind tried to make sense of it all, the noise drew ever nearer. Then, at last, there was a loud explosion, as if a basement wall had been blasted through. She instinctively shielded her face with her arms, and felt her body being showered by tiny bits of gravel and stone. She also noticed that light was struggling to reach through her eyelids....
She uncovered her face, and at first she was blinded by light, her eyes having been immersed in darkness for so long. When her eyes finally readjusted, she saw that a huge hole had indeed been made in the wall, as if a giant laser had burned away several meters of soil and stone. And in the mouth of that freshly-formed hole, there stood several creatures....
Just like the vile radiers that attacked her home, these beings looked totally inhuman. She could see they were dressed in flowing, black robes, leaving only their heads visible. Their heads looked squat, blue and rounded, with two large, white eyes staring attentively at her. They had powerful, triangular beaks in front of their faces that pointed downward. After noticing this, she realized that their heads were covered in feathers. They were bird people....
The bird people looked at her, then turned to each other, speaking in a language that she couldn't understand. After a while, one of them pointed at her, and its voice sounded urgent. She looked down at herself, and saw that there was indeed a large piece of shrapnel stuck in her leg....
Another strange voice cried out in what sounded like a commanding tone. Looking up, she saw that the bird people had parted, walking out of the hole and into the basement. Then, another one of the strange beings walked through the hole, but this one was different. The others had been about as tall as her father, but this one was at least half a meter shorter, and his body had a very squat shape. He was limping along, carrying a wooden cane. He limped toward her....
He stopped in front of her and knelt down. He did not speak, but he didn't need to. Something about his face made her feel at ease. Unlike the raiders, who had vicious, terrifying faces, this being had a face that exuded calmness, peacefulness, and aged wisdom. She knew right then that she could trust this being. All of these beings....
The old bird-like being raised an arm, baring a hand with long, spindly, talon-tipped fingers. Immediately, his companions closed in, forming a circle around her....
What happened in the next few moments was a blur for her, her mind barely working anymore after going through such a crisis. But she remembered that the bird people removed the metal shard from her leg and tended to her wound, using tools she didn't recognize. They hovered over her, busily working to heal her battered and torn body....
And then, they were satisfied that she could be moved. The old bird being that was apparantly their leader reached out with his free arm and scooped her up. She didn't resist as the strange creature held her up close to him and walked out of the basement, his companions following close behind. Somehow, she felt as if she were once again with family....
McGonagall swept back into the hospital wing, hoping against hope that Harry's condition had miraculously improved during her absence. "Alright, a group of Healers from St. Mungo's will be on their way soon. They're a little backed up tonight though; some prankster thought it would be funny to spike some beverages with the Draught of Montezuma and...."
As McGonagall walked back to Harry's bed, her voice trailed off when she noticed that there were new arrivals, and they weren't the Healers from St. Mungo's. Molly Weasley was standing beside the bed, looking down at Harry with an expression of pure horror. And beside her stood Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, gazing down at Harry with his regular eye and his magical eye whirling wildy in all directions.
"What are you two doing here!?" cried McGonagall.
Mrs. Weasley looked up at McGonagall and stared her down with tear-filled eyes. "What, you expected me to stay away? All these years, he's been like one of the family! My next guard shift's not for another three days, so until then, I'm staying here with Harry."
"And as for me, I escorted her here," said Moody. "Dumbledore gave Molly the go-ahead to fly into Hogwarts grounds. But I insisted that she shouldn't go flying alone on such a cloudy, dark night."
"Oh, I see," said McGonagall softly.
"Sir.... err, 'Snuffles' wanted to come, naturally. But of course, Dumbledore wouldn't hear of it," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Of course he'd want out at a time like this," growled Moody. "The least we could do for him was let Molly test-fly what he's been working on...."
"Useless piece of Muggle rubbish," spat Mrs. Weasley, still staring sullenly at Harry.
"Worked fine, didn't it? Besides, he must be bored out of his mind, locked up in that house all these months. He might as well pass the time by making another one," said Moody reprovingly.
McGonagall didn't really understand what they were talking about, nor did it really concern her. "So, did Madam Pomfrey bring you up to speed about Mr. Potter's.... err, situation?" she said delicately.
Mrs. Weasley nodded wordlessly as she choked back a sob. Moody nodded as well, and said, "Yeah, she said you just went to inform St. Mungo to come and get him, since Poppy and Snape are clueless." McGonagall noticed that Moody's magical eye was peering across the hospital wing, toward Madam Pomfrey's office. Looking back, McGonagall saw Snape was there along with her, and it looked like they were studying something closely.
"Wait a minute," spoke up Mrs. Weasley, a hint of frustration in her voice. "Didn't Poppy say that one of the Hogwarts staff is immune to this thing? Some freakishly musclebound Muggle woman with amnesia that Dumbledore took in?"
McGonagall turned back toward Mrs. Weasley. "Yes, that's right. We still don't know much about her though," she replied. Mrs. Weasley's mention of Samantha made her remember just how many strange, unexplainable things had been going on lately. Could all these events be connected? Was Samantha linked to these parasites?
"D'you think this parasite is some scheme of You-Know-Who's?" spoke up Moody. "All this covertness, the way dark creatures are stealthily making their way into Hogwarts.... this whole thing sort of smells like his work."
McGonagall looked down at Harry again. The possibility had occured to her, but it was too horrific a thought to dwell on. "I don't know, Mad-Eye. So much of this is a mystery.... I don't know."
She lay on what she guessed was a diagnostic bed, having been quickly transferred from their ship to what she guessed was the medical bay of their home. These bird people, who called themselves by some word that sounded like 'Chozo', were still working hard, trying to heal her. But apparently, they had hit a wall. Perhaps humans were too much of a mystery for them....
The 'Chozo' hovered around the diagnostic bed, muttering among themselves. Only one of them truly made an effort to talk directly to her; the aged, squat Chozo who had carried her to their ship. He held what looked like a small, portable computer pad, and he glanced at it frequently while speaking to her. He now spoke her language, but his words came out clumsily. She guessed he was trying hard to learn her own language....
He told her that his people had come to her ravaged colony looking for survivors, and she was the only one they had found. She was now at one of the many places the Chozo called home, called 'Zebeth' or something, if she had heard right. His people were an ancient race that respected all life; so long as she was among them, she was among friends. He offered to look after her until it was decided what the Chozo were to do with her, and that she could call him 'Bird Grandpa'....
Her soul still ached from seeing the annilihation of her home and the death of her family, but the words of this inhuman being somehow calmed her and made her feel at peace. Those terrible, traumatic memories would always be with her, but somehow, being in the care of these Chozo filled her with hope....
The piece of shrapnel had been removed from her leg, and there was barely even a scar now. All of her minor cuts and burns were healed too. Most of the pain she suffered in the attack had left her. However, Bird Grandpa told her that she had lost a lot of blood and needed a transfusion. He said they couldn't get any human blood, so they had to try a desperate treatment....
The Chozo calling himself 'Bird Grandpa' reached out, offering to carry her again. She accepted, wanting to feel secure again in his arms. Like the way it was when her father held her....
They walked for several minutes through some corridors, where the walls were made of blue, polished stone, not metal. One of the other Chozo said that the treatment they had in mind would help her adapt to life here, some area called 'Brinstar'....
At last, they reached their destination: a very dimly lit room. All she could make out was a single computer panel and, in the center of the room, a glass bubble large enough to put her in. One of the Chozo touched a button on the panel, and water began to flow into the bubble....
They stripped her naked and attached a breathing mask over her nose and mouth. Also, some sort of needle was stuck into her arm, which had a long, thin tube attached to it. Bird Granpda opened a circular door on the top of the glass bubble, then she was gently lowered into the water within....
She breathed in deeply, trying to remain calm. After a few moments, she heard a faint buzzing noise, as well as the sound of machinery springing to life. She then noticed that the water, which had felt surprisingly warm, now made her skin feel tingly. The tingling sensation gradually increased, but it wasn't painful....
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black liquid flowing into the tube attached to the needle. An instant later, it started flowing into her veins....
The tingling became even greater as the Chozo's blood flowed into her. According to what Bird Grandpa said, this device was supposed to let her body adapt to having the blood of an inhuman being, infusing with her with the blood of an entirely different species....
As she floated idly in the glass bubble, she no longer felt calm. She felt invigorated. She could feel herself changing, becoming more powerful, becoming something more than human....
Snape looked across the hospital wing over at Harry's bed, not knowing whether he should feel overjoyed that he might actaully die, or frustrated by his failure to devise a potion to cure him. Besides, it was foolish to think that he would be the first and only victim of this strange new parasite. If no cure could be found....
Snape then noticed that Moody's magical eye was fixated on him. Grimacing, he turned back toward Madam Pomfrey, who was holding her wand in one hand and a vial of Samantha's blood in the other. Judging from the sky-blue sparks coming from her wand's tip, Snape guessed that she had just done a sort of revealing charm on the blood. "Very interesting," she muttered to herself.
"Excuse me, but what's so interesting?" asked Snape.
"Oh, the results of this charm," replied Pomfrey. She didn't turn to look at Snape, but was instead flipping through a small book. "Her blood doesn't register as human under any revealing spell as you well know, so I've been cross-referencing the results, and, well...."
"Go on," said Snape impatiently.
"Well, her blood as more in common with, say, a cockatrice or a hippogriph, or even an ordinary owl," said Pomfrey, the disbelief in her voice palpable.
Snape stared at her for a moment. "You mean to tell me that that woman has the blood of a bird?" he sneered.
"It's incredible as it sounds, yes," said Pomfrey. "But there's something else. She has the essence of yet another being within her. I just discovered it, using an old charm I'd forgotten about." Pomfrey raised her wand up to the vial, shut her eyes, and softly muttered an incantation that Snape couldn't make out. All of a sudden, a ghostly mist began to emerge from the vial, the way a mist will sometimes rise from a Pensieve and take a misty-white shape.
Eventually, the mist did take a shape. At first, it looked like the upper half of a transparent sphere. It made Snape think of a jellyfish, but underneath it, something other than tentacles took shape. Underneath it were four sharp, curved fangs; two small ones placed close to each other in the front, and two larger ones spaced wider apart in the back. Some sort of solid white mass filled the bottom half of the hemisphere, but in the center, Snape could make out three large, pulsating nuclei.
"What.... in the name of Merlin is that supposed to be?" snapped Snape.
"I have no idea," said Madam Pomfrey, sounding defeated.
They were drawing closer, those insipid looking mechanoids. They were simply long, large cylinders with short, dumpy legs, with which they used to lumber toward her. The Chozo elders said they found them in a delerict ship that had crashed nearby decades ago, and these were its maintenance robots. She didn't care about any of that. All she knew was that they were perfect cannon fodder....
For many, many years, she had lived among the Chozo here, growing up and being raised as one of their own. Not only did their blood flow in her veins, but she had learned all that the Chozo knew, eagerly soaking up their knowledge and wisdom. She took on their customs, their ways. As far as she was concerned, she WAS a Chozo....
But the memories of that terrible day when she saw her family slaughtered had never faded away. Neither had her desire for vengeance. Those horrific images still haunted her nightmares, serving to spur her on....
And now, it was time to test out her new 'gift', which, along with her Chozo blood, was the most precious thing ever given to her....
The robots were getting even closer. She raised her right arm....
Oscillating bursts of electrical energy shot towards several of the robots. As soon as they were hit, their systems overloaded and shorted out, and they fell over. But she hadn't managed to hit all of the ones in front of her, and the ones still standing sent out rings of plasma at her. She effortlessly jumped to the side with ridiculous grace and ease....
She switched weapons. Now bursts of extreme, icy cold struck them, and she didn't let up on her assault. Soon, several of the robots were almost entirely encased in ice, and they fell over as well. Only the two that were farthest away were left....
She toggled weapons again. Now, what could be described as 'missiles' rocketed toward the mechanoids, homing in on them. When they detonated, the robots were blown apart....
For a moment, she stared at the felled robots, admiring her handiwork. Her 'gift' was working perfectly, and if fortune was with her, the ones who had ruined her life would soon be just like these robots. In the several years that she grew up in seclusion with the Chozo, they had spread out and grown ever more powerful. Because of that, bounty hunters were always in demand, needed to fend them off. And she had the knowledge, skill and power to become the greatest bounty hunter of all. She smiled to herself, knowing that soon, it would be time to leave the nest at last....
It would be time for retribution. It would be time for revenge....
It would be time to hunt....
Samantha's eyes snapped open, finally having coming out of her dream-like trance. But there was no softness and gentleness in those blue eyes anymore. All there was now was a cold hardness.
At long last, she had the answers she desired for so long. Ironically, she had those infected dementors to thank for it. What was supposed to have been a fatal attack had jarred her buried memories, making her truly alive again.
She now remembered who she was, where she came from, and most important of all, her duty and destiny.
And she knew of the one way - the ONLY way - to stop the infection that was slowly killing Harry Potter.
Once again, McGonagall stood at the foot of Harry's bed. Molly Weasley and Alastor Moody were still standing at the right side of the bed, and Madam Pomfrey and Snape had come out of the hospital wing's office. Also, they were now joined by Professor Dumbledore, and to McGonagall's utmost dismay, Dolores Umbridge. She risked sending a scything glance toward her, then turned to Madam Pomfrey. "You still haven't come up with anything?"
Pomfrey shook her head. "No. I just can't figure out how Samantha's body fights this thing off! Earlier, I even tried just injecting Harry with her blood. It worked for a few seconds, but.... her blood's incompatible with Harry's. It's too inhuman. His body rejected it instantly."
"Where are those Healers from St. Mungo's!?" cried Mrs. Weasley. "It's been fifteen minutes! They should've been here by now!"
"Careful Molly, don't work yourself up," said Moody in an uncharacteristically calm voice. "It won't do any good." Mrs. Weasley didn't say anything else, but merely sobbed again.
"Well now, I suppose I should go and inform the Ministry about what's happened here. This is something the entire wizarding world will need to know about," said Umbridge in an infuriatingly silky voice. "I must say, this isn't going to look good for Hogwarts's publicity. Oh no, not at all," she continued with a nasty smirk.
It was all too clear that she was delighted by this opportunity to put Albus Dumbledore in an even more negative light. McGonagall could feel her blood boiling; the desire to stoop to using the Cruciatus Curse had never been stronger for her. Umbridge turned to leave, and McGonagall watched her go. You wretched little ogress, she thought. Potter tried to save your life, and now you're obviously happy he'll die because of that!
Umbridge opened the door, but as she did, McGonagall noticed that her face slowly changed from one of smugness to one of surprise. "You?" she blurted out. "What are you doing...."
THOK!
The next thing McGonagall saw was Umbridge sailing high into the air, only to come crashing down on one of the empty beds, unconscious. McGonagall's first thought was that the hospital wing was under attack again. How can that be? With all the extra Quarantine Charms the headmaster has put around this room, it should be impossible! she thought as she strode over to the door with her wand out, everyone else following close behind her.
But standing in the doorway was neither a giant mantis nor a dementor. It was Samantha. "Samantha? What is the meaning of...." Snape began.
"Trust me, you don't want her blabbing to your Ministry right now," said Samantha sharply, cutting Snape off. "Do yourselves a favor and alter her memory before she awakens. If the Ministry refuses to acknowledge that Voldemort is back, then I doubt they'd be able to cope with the truth about what you're facing now."
All the witches and wizards present (who were still conscious) exchanged confused looks, even Dumbledore. "What are you talking about, Samantha?" asked McGonagall.
"Listen to me. I've finally remembered who I am, and what these parasites are. If these parasites are here, now, then Earth is in big trouble. More trouble than you can possibly imagine," replied Samantha coldly. With that, she pushed past the witches and wizards and walked over to Harry's bed. As McGonagall watched her, she realized just how different she was now. That timidness that had defined her ever since being discovered was now gone. She had an aura of cold determination around her now, giving one the sense that she possessed an iron will. The way Samantha carried herself now.... it was as if she carried some great burden, an inescapable destiny. "I don't think he's got much time left," said Samantha as she stared down at Harry's slime-ridden body. "If he is to be saved, we have to do something now. Luckily, I know what needs to be done."
"But.... the Healers from St. Mungo's are en route to the castle," said McGonagall. "They should be able to...."
"Tell them to go home," said Samantha. "I've got the only thing that will save Harry."
"Just WHAT are you talking about!?" demanded Mrs. Weasley as she walked back over to Harry. "Who are you, really!? What's...."
"There's no time to explain right now!" shouted Samantha. "Just know this: these parasites, they're called the X. They're viral-like organisms that can infect any living thing, and they copy the DNA of anything they sample, letting them mimic their victims."
"Samantha," spoke up Dumbledore, "are you saying that those dementors earlier...."
"Yes. The X must have infected a number of dementors, letting them assume their form," said Samantha.
"But if they can infect ANY living thing, how come you're immune?" demanded Moody, his trademark paranoia bubbling to the surface once again.
Samantha turned to Moody, staring at his magical eye. "You must be 'Mad-Eye' Moody," she said. "Well, it just so happens that there is ONE species that isn't affected by the X. Another parasite, which is the X's natural predator, called the Metroids."
"What does that have to do with you!?" snapped Moody.
Samantha stared at Moody for a moment, then looked at all the other wizards and witches present. "I was once infected by the X, too, just like Harry has been. Everything that medics and surgeons did to try and save me failed. Until they decided on a radical treatment: DNA from a Metroid was fused with my own."
"Err, just what is DNA, anyway?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
Samantha whirled to stare Mrs. Weasley down, as if she considered her question incredibly stupid. "Deoxyribonucleic acid. It's the long molecular chain that every living thing has, containing genetic information. We're all defined by the information stored in our DNA," she explained in a churlish voice.
"I believe I'm beginning to understand," said Dumbledore. "I take it that, in this way, the Metroid's immunity was passed on to you?"
"Exactly," replied Samantha. "Once my genome was altered, my own body fought off and eliminated the X. And if we're to save Harry, we need to do the same thing to him."
McGonagall noticed that Mrs. Weasley turned to Moody and started whispering something to him, an apprehensive look on her face. Snape was whispering something nervously to Dumbledore as well. Samantha was ignoring these hushed murmurs, and walked up to Madam Pomfrey. "Do you still have samples of my blood?" she asked the Healer urngently.
"Y-Yes," replied Pomfrey nervously. "I've been keeping them in vials with a Self-Chilling Charm put on them. Why...."
"This is going to be a tricky business," said Samantha, cutting her off. "We can't do the procedure on Harry the same way it was done to me. Besides, we're running out of time. Tell me, how much to you wizards know about genetic science, namely genetic engineering and techniques involving recombinant DNA?"
All eyes were now on Madam Pomfrey, including McGonagall's. It was as if they all instinctively knew Harry's life was now in Pomfrey's hands. "W-Well, I, w-we," she stammered. "Some Healers and potioneers dabble in that sort of thing. It's been a recent discovery by Muggles, as I understand it. Some wizards think it would be interesting to apply this Muggle knowledge with our own disciplines (Mrs. Weasley's nose wrinkled when Pomfrey said that) . But mainly, all I see it being used for is illegal cross-breeding experiments. I fail to see how this Muggle drivel can...."
"That 'Muggle drivel' is the only hope Harry's got!" barked Samantha, sounding offended. "Do you know enough to try some magical version of genetic engineering!?" interrupted Samantha, impatience showing in her voice and features.
"Err, w-well, I-I," spluttered Pomfrey, looking unconfortable underneath Samantha's persistent stare. "Sometimes such studies get published in wizarding journals. I understand the basics, at least. But how can...."
"What you need to do is identify the spots on MY genome that have Metroid DNA, then find some spell or potion that'll take those genetic sequences and splice them onto HARRY'S genome," explained Samantha, her voice sharper than ever. "Can you do that?"
"I can try," said Pomfrey nervously. "Just last week, there was a report published in Elite Healers Weekly that could help. But coming up with the potion required would take time, at least an hour. Maybe less if Snape helps me."
"Then please, do it!" spoke up Mrs. Weasley, sounding desperate. "If this is the only thing that will save Harry, then do it!"
"I second that," growled Moody. "If fooling around with Potter's 'genome' or whatever is what it'll take, then go for it."
McGonagall turned to Moody, unable to keep from looking surprised. "You, Moody? You're willing to trust a total stranger so readily?"
"Trust has nothing to do with it!" barked Moody as he looked at McGonagall with his good eye, but focused on Samantha with his magical one. "Believe me, I've got a lot of questions for our bodybuilding friend here. But the fact remains that we've run out of options, and we're running out of time. Sam's idea is the only one we've got."
"Once Harry's out of danger, I'll explain everything. I promise you," said Samantha.
"Then it's decided," said Dumbledore idly; he was always calm, always the rock of the Order of the Phoenix. "Poppy, I believe you have your work cut out for you. Snape, do all you can to assist her. Best of luck to both of you." Snape and Pomfrey didn't sayt anything else. They merely nodded, then strode back to the hospital wing's office.
At long last, there was finally hope to be had for Harry. McGonagall felt her spirits lifting, but then Samantha spoke up again as she walked up to Dumbledore. "Dumbledore, there's another problem. We may save Harry, but we still need to find the rest of these X parasites. I'll need to fight them, and to do that, I'll need something back."
McGonagall was unsure of what Samantha meant, but Dumbledore seemed to catch on immediately. "You mean that strange, metal sphere?" he asked. Samantha merely nodded.
"You remember what it is?" asked McGonagall. "What does it do?"
"It was a gift," answered Samantha. "The most important gift I've ever received, along with my blood. Dumbledore, where is it?"
"I've been keeping it in my office. On my desk actually, as I've taken a liking to it. It has an odd aura of beauty to it," replied Dumbledore. "Allow me to escort you to my office, so I can return it to you." Samantha nodded, and then the two of them headed for the hospital wing door. McGonagall decided to follow them, believing she had no use staying in the hospital wing.
But before any of them could exit the hospital wing, Mrs. Weasley's voice cried out. "Whoever you are, I just wanted to thank you for trying to help Harry. It means so much, Samantha."
"It's not 'Samantha'," she said sternly. "It never was."
"Then, do tell us, what is your real name?" asked Dumbledore delicately.
She looked into Dumbledore's eyes, pausing for a moment. "It's Samus. Samus Aran."
The three of them stopped in front of the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office. "How much longer until we reach your office?" demanded Samus, still giving off an air of impatience. McGonagall still couldn't get over the startling change in her personality. The whole time she knew her, she had always been so shy, reclusive and insecure about herself. Now, there was no trace of self-doubt in her voice or demeanor. She seemed as tough and forceful as the most battle-hardened of Aurors, like Alastor Moody and Rufus Scrimgeour.
"We are nearly there," said Dumbledore quietly. Then he cleared his throat and said, "Crystallized pineapple." The gargoyle hopped away at once as the wall split in two, revealing a staircase.
"Crystallized pineapple?" muttered McGonagall. "Isn't that...."
"Horace Slughorn's candy of choice, yes," said Dumbledore as he began ascending the stairs. "I never cared for it, but this month, I had difficulty coming up with a new password." Soon, the three of them finally entered Dumbledore's prodigiously elaborate office. In the center of the circular room was his desk, and it indeed had the glass case with Samus's sphere on it. It was taking up quite a bit of space. "There it is, my dear," said Dumbledore as he took out his wand. "Allow me to remove it by...."
But Samus wasn't in the mood to wait any longer. She ran up to Dumbledore's desk and brought her fist down onto the case, shattering the glass. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow; McGonagall suspected that he must have put an Unbreakable Charm on the glass case, yet Samus had smashed through it anyway.
Samus picked up the heavy sphere effortlessly. At once, she looked transfixed, as if she had been reunited with a lost part of herself. She walked over to the wall and leaned against it, placing the sphere in front of her. She closed her eyes and began running her hand over it, as if she were tenderly caressing a beloved pet. McGonagall and Dumbledore simply watched in silence, unsure of what she was doing.
After several minutes, Samus finally spoke. "Good news. Everything's still in working order. However, since it's been idle for so long, it'll take a while to reboot all the systems. I estimate it'll take a little less than an hour."
Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at each other, then looked back at Samus. "You speak as if it is some sort of machine," said Dumbledore, a hint of confusion in his voice.
Samus opened her eyes and looked up. "That's because it is," she replied.
"Well, I hate to disillusion you, Samus, but Muggle machines can't function on Hogwarts grounds," pointed out McGonagall.
"I know," said Samus. "But this wasn't crafted my humans."
McGonagall let out a surprised gasp at the mention of this. Who else but non-magical humans would dabble with technology? "Be that as it may, it cannot possibly...."
McGonagall's voice trailed off as she noticed a faint, white light emanating from the groove bisecting the sphere. "You were saying?" asked Samus smugly.
Molly Weasley continued to stand by Harry's bed and gaze down at him sorrowfully, tears building up again. After the first year her youngest son, Ron, had went to Hogwarts and befriended Harry, she had considered him almost a part of the Weasley family. As good as an adopted son, as she had told Sirius Black that one night. Right now, she felt as tormented as she would have been should one of her own children lay here dying instead, infected by this 'X'.
"Don't worry Molly," said Moody, who was still standing beside her. "Potter isn't going to let this thing beat him. I'm sure he's still fighting it right now, with everything he has. He'll hold out long enough. He's a survivor."
Mrs. Weasley lifted her head to look at Moody, a little surprised. He hardly knew Harry, yet he seemed as genuinely troubled as the rest of them. Why was that? Was it possibly because he respected Harry, admiring how he had gotten through so many tough situations alive? Did he see a budding Auror in him?
"And besides, if I'm not mistaken, Madam Pomfrey is ready," said Moody. Mrs. Weasley then noticed that Moody's magical eye was fixated on Pomfrey's office. Looking up, she saw that Madam Pomfrey was indeed strolling out of her office, holding up a syringe filled with a resplendent, lime-green solution and looking triumphant. Snape was following close behind her, his face as cold and unpleasant as ever, but there was a faint hint of satisfaction in his eyes as well.
"It's ready!" Madam Pomfrey cried jubilantly. "It took us an hour, but it's ready!"
Mrs. Weasley glanced back down at Harry, once again appalled by how the X was ravaging his body. We've got the cure, but is it already too late? she wondered.
But as Pomfrey and Snape were crossing the length of the hospital wing, about to pass by the door to get to Harry's bed, Mrs. Weasley heard Moody let out a surprised gasp. Turning toward him, she saw that, for the first time she could remember, there was a look of fear on his face. His magical eye was fixed on the hospital wing door....
"Get away from the door!" he cried out. "Everybody, heads up!"
And then there was a sound like an explosion, and the door was blasted off of its hinges.
Back in Dumbledore's office, a sort of shrilling chime resounded loudly, snapping McGonagall and Dumbledore to attention. McGonagall wasn't sure what it meant, but Dumbledore seemed to understand perfectly. He strode over to one of his shelves, which had several shiny, silvery instruments carefully placed upon it. Also, there was a transparent, crystalline scale-model of the castle. McGonagall also noticed that there was a tiny, flickering bit of light within it, situated around where the hospital wing was.
"This is unfortunate," said Dumbledore, his trademark calmness seeming to evaporate. "In light of recent events, I decided it was prudent to have a means to pinpoint areas in the castle where there is trouble. The hospital wing is under attack, and I suspect our slippery new guests are to blame."
"Then it's a good thing that the reboot cycle is now complete. I can easily handle this," came Samus's worried yet determined voice from behind them. Yet somehow, her voice sounded different, as if coming through what Muggles call a 'radio'. Dumbledore and McGonagall turned around, and both of their jaws dropped....
Samus Aran stood by the wall, but now, she was clad in something other than those strange rubber garments. Now, from head to foot, she was encased in what could only be described as some sort of space suit.
But it was unlike any Muggle space suit that Dumbledore and McGonagall knew of. Her helmet was a bright blood red, having a domed shape and a large, clear-blue visor through which her eyes could be seen. Two metal tubes were situated near the mouth area, and travelled along the sides of the helmet, forming quarter-circles until merging with the main body of her suit. The rest of her suit was covered in a sort of flexible, organic teal membrane, which seemed to be wrapped around her. Those parts not covered by that teal, armor-like membrane (namely, her midsection and some areas of her legs) were a shiny, golden-yellow metal, which looked strong enough to resist a blow from a giant. On the bottom of her left forearm, a row of three, shark-like fins jutted out, each looking sharp enough to slice through a dragon's hide. And her right forearm.... was what could only be described as an 'arm cannon', sleek in shape, and very dangerous-looking.
McGonagall looked into that visor again, and caught a glimpse of Samus's eyes. One look was all she needed to let her know that Samus was ready for action.
Another chapter, another box of stolen quills....
Wonder why this update took so long? Lots of computer problems at my house. I won't bore you with details, but let's just say that for over a week, I didn't have easy access to a working PC. And even when I did, I was distracted by some masterful games that I missed out on in recent years, namely Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow and X-Men Legends.
But don't worry; I've resolved to keep updates coming as quickly as possible. I don't want this to take over a year, like my last two super-long fics did.
So long,
Grey