For Thine Is The Power

Chapter 8
Going On
Remus awoke to abruptly to the sound of Harry’s alarm going off. He didn’t even pause to
throw on a shirt over his pajama bottoms; he simply ran for the door.
He burst in Harry’s door, wand in hand, to find the boy leaning over the edge of the
bed being violently sick. Crossing the bedroom as fast as he could, he conjured a basin for
Harry and handed it to him before vanishing the previously-expelled vomit. He then sat on
the bed, steadying the basin with one hand and stroking Harry’s hair with the other.
“S-s-sorry,” the boy choked out between heaves. “I d-didn’t mean to hit the alarm—it
was an accident—”
“It’s okay, Harry,” he said, taking a moment to touch the yellow orb and turn off the
faint wailing he could still hear. “You needed me, and I’m here. That’s what matters.”
When it appeared that the boy was done heaving, he filled a glass of water from the
jug on the bedside table, and conjured a damp cloth. He handed the latter to Harry first,
letting the boy wipe his nose and mouth, before taking the basin from him and giving him
the glass. He then promptly had to give the basin back as the boy began heaving again.
The second time they repeated this, the water stayed down, and Harry leaned shakily
back against the pillows. Remus vanished the contents of the basin, hit it with another
cleaning spell, and set it near the bed in case it was needed again. “Are you feeling better?”
he asked gently. “Do you need anything else? More water?”
Harry shook his head, then paused and nodded. “I think I probably just puked my
potions back up,” he said ruefully. “I don’t know if I should take more or not.”
Remus considered. “I wonder if Severus is still awake,” he said thoughtfully.
“Yeah,” Harry said grimly, “he is, but you aren’t going to be able to get ahold of
him.” He grimaced. “That’s what set off the, uh. . . .” He waved at the basin. “Voldemort
gave his Inner Circle a pair of Muggles to. . . play with, as a reward.”
Remus paled, feeling sick himself. “And. . . you—witnessed it?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah.” He looked up at Remus. “Look. . . if I tell you about it, can
we skip the whole vision call thing? I don’t think. . . I don’t think I could. . . .”
“Of course, Harry,” he said gently, nodding. “The call is only there to make things
easier on you. We could wait until morning, if you would prefer.”
“No—I’d sort of like to get it over with,” Harry grimaced again, “while the basin’s
still here, if you don’t mind. It wasn’t very. . . it was bloody, but not much more. Snape was
there for most of it, anyhow. It’s just the first part he missed.”
“Go on,” Remus prompted when Harry paused.
“Give me a moment,” the boy said through gritted teeth. “Trying not to. . . .” Remus
waited, and after a few seconds he went on, “Voldemort was questioning the pair—a couple,
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