Title: Healing Bond
Author: jadzia7667
Rating: G
Word count: 2257
Challenge: First Round - Forced Bonding Prompts, for thematic_hp The prompt is: Harry is injured. The only way to help him is for him to be magically bound with Bill Weasley. (Or you can have Bill as the injured one.)
Pairing: Harry/Bill, preslash
Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to JKR.
Warnings: None.
Summary: After a rather rough pickup game of Quidditch, Harry once again has to save the day…or the curse breaker.
A/N: This didn’t turn out at all like I originally thought it would.
Beta: The lovely the_minx_17.



Harry sped into the Infirmary, gasping for breath, eyes wild with fear. “Where is he?”

Madame Pomfrey bustled over, shushing him. “Mister Potter, kindly comport yourself with dignity. My patients need rest!”

Harry flushed, feeling about twelve years old again, instead of twenty two, as he actually was. “Sorry, Madame Pomfrey. I saw Ron fall…” If anything happened to Ron, Harry would never recover from it. He’d survived the Dark War; a blasted bludger was not going to take his best friend from him.

“Mister Ron Weasley will be fine. It’s William I’m worried about. He took a nasty fall, and hit his head on the far ring on the way down.”

Harry looked over at Bill. He’d thought it was Ron and a huge weight lifted off his chest even as a ball of guilt formed in his stomach. He didn’t want Bill to be injured either. They’d gotten to be close friends during the Horcrux hunt, and Harry was nearly as comfortable with Bill as he was with Ron.

Madame Pomfrey was talking again. “He’s broken his left collarbone, his right wrist, and his left ankle. I can heal that easily. He took the Skele-Grow without even realizing it, as he’s deeply unconscious. However, the head injury is another matter. If he doesn’t wake up soon, I may have to call St. Mungo’s.” Her kind face was set tight with worry. Someone in another bed groaned and she hurried off to tend them.

Harry scooted closer to Bill’s bed and tentatively reached out to brush a lock of hair off his forehead. The livid bruise stood out in sharp relief against his pale, freckled skin. His skin was clammy, with a milk white pallor that Harry found unsettling. His chest was rising and falling, slowly, but not very deeply. Bruises were coming out all over him, vivid shades of purple and blue and near black. There was a cut running down the side of his face that looked rather nasty, too. He looked like hell.

Harry sat down in the chair next to Bill’s bed, prepared to wait until his friend was out of danger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry woke with a start when he heard Madame Pomfrey shushing someone. He blinked slowly, looking around. His eye fell on Bill and his heart twisted. Right. Pickup Quidditch game. Sudden squall of a thunderstorm. Bill and Ron tumbling from their brooms. Bill’s more serious injuries. Harry’s ears perked up when he heard Madame Pomfrey’s voice again. He remained quiet; she’d toss him out if she thought he was eavesdropping, and Harry was reluctant to leave Bill’s side.

“He’s been unconscious ever since.”

“Did you try Ennervate?”

“Of course I did! He didn’t respond at all.”

There was a pause, and the air grew heavy with tension. Presumably, the Healer was assessing Bill’s condition.

“There are bone fragments in his brain. Look here, and here, at those shadows. I’m afraid I’m not strong enough to heal that, Madame.”

“What’s to be done, then? Is there another healer who is strong enough?”

“The Healing Bond can be cast by someone who isn’t a healer. There are risks, of course. The bond will likely be permanent, unless the caster is a Master Occlumens. The magic of the caster must be compatible with the patient’s magic. So your choices will be limited. Additionally, there’s no way that Mister Weasley can consent to the treatment. That borders on the Dark Arts, although it’s not technically illegal. Is there anyone nearby who possesses the strength to cast the spell?”

Madame Pomfrey’s voice was uncertain. “Perhaps so.”

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m awake, Madame Pomfrey. What’s this about a Healing Bond?” He stood up and attempted to smooth down his hair. It did absolutely no good, as usual. He’d just have to be scruffy like always. Harry came around the curtain and extended a hand to the unfamiliar man that he reckoned must be the St. Mungo’s healer.

“I heard you talking. I’m Harry Potter. What can I do to help?”

The healer chuckled weakly. “Yes, I suppose you do have the raw power necessary to heal Mister Weasley. You should understand, though, this spell is risky.”

“I heard that, too. How can we find out if my magic is compatible with his? What will happen if we don’t use it?”

“Mister Weasley is in a coma. The rest of his injuries will heal. The damage to his brain will not. He doesn’t respond to Ennervate, thus I suspected a skull fracture. I just performed a deep scan and found bone fragments lodged in his brain. If there isn’t anyone to heal him, he’ll remain in a coma until he expires.”

“Won’t the dose of Skele-Grow take care of that?”

“No. Skele-Grow re-grows bones. It does not remove bone fragments from fragile tissue. We normally take care of that with a banishing spell. However, a banishing spell would damage his brain even further when the fragments were ripped out by the spell.”

Harry nodded slowly. That sounded horrible. His friend would be a vegetable, or worse. Harry wasn’t going to let that happen. “Tell me more about this Healing Bond spell.”

An hour later, Harry was morose, but confident he could perform the spell. He’d lend his magic to Bill with the help of the spell, which would slowly dissolve the bone fragments without damaging the surrounding tissue. It was delicate work, and needed a lot of power, but not a lot of finesse from the caster. The necessary delicacy was contained within the spell.

The downside was that he and Bill would likely be bonded for life. Harry wasn’t a healer, thus had never had the necessary protective spells cast on him to prevent the bond from being permanent. Nor was he a Master Occlumens, Harry thought with a snort, even as he cursed his lack of decent instruction in that subject. Healer Jones had tested Snape’s magic while Madam Pomfrey taught him the spell. Snape had looked oddly smug, at first. Ten minutes later, he was growling and calling the Healer’s parentage into question. It seemed Snape did not want to believe his magic was incompatible with Bill’s. Harry wasn’t even going to consider dwelling on the ramifications of Snape’s reaction. He really didn’t want to know.

Harry, as luck, or fate, or something would have it, was compatible with Bill. Their magic would be essentially fused from the time Harry finished casting the spell until Bill recovered. That could be several days or as long as a month. By the time Bill was completely well again, their magic would be permanently melded.

They’d be as good as married. The bond would, at first, require them to be physically close for several hours a day, until it settled down. Even then, they’d have to spend at least half an hour a day in physical contact. If they didn’t, the results of stretching the bond too far began with migraines and ended with insanity and death. Harry didn’t mind the physical proximity part so much, but he suspected Bill would. He knew that Fleur wouldn’t take kindly to the notion.

“I can’t make this decision on my own. We need to speak to his family.”

“Very well.”

The healer, Madame Pomfrey, and Harry all trailed out to the waiting area to explain what was happening to Bill, and what could be done to correct the problem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The elder Weasleys were waiting in Madame Pomfrey’s office. Harry briefly wondered where on Earth Fleur could be. Molly leaned on Arthur, sniffling a bit. Her eyes were red and puffy. Arthur looked weary as he said, “Healer Jones? How is he?”

The healer explained, slowly and clearly, just what was amiss and what could be done to fix it.

Molly’s eyes fastened on Harry’s, imploring him. “Will you do it, Harry?”

He stepped closer to the couple and drew Molly into a one armed hug. His other hand rested on Arthur’s shoulder, trying to impart some sort of comfort. “Of course I will, if you and Arthur agree. It’s a risky spell, though. I wanted you both to know the possible results.”

Molly sniffled, “A bond between the two of you is far from the worst thing that could happen to my boy.”

Harry blinked. “But…what about Fleur? Won’t she be upset?”

Arthur snorted, but said nothing. Molly looked up at Harry, a trace of her usual fire lighting her eyes. “That trollop! She has no say in the matter. They’ve been separated for over a year. Bill came back to England so the divorce could be finalized.”

Harry’s confused, “But I thought they were bonded as well as married…” was nearly lost beneath Molly’s fussing to Arthur about how ‘that girl is no better than she should be’.

“Hush, Molly.” Arthur patted her shoulder comfortingly and she subsided. “Harry, not all married couples go through a bonding ritual. If their magic isn’t compatible – and Fleur and Bill’s wasn’t – they cannot take part in a magical bonding. Unbonded couples are free to divorce. They often do, in fact.”

“I see. I had no idea things weren’t going well for them. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. The divorce was Bill’s idea. He caught her sleeping with some French bloke. She, of course, wanted an ‘open marriage’. He declined.”

Harry was still doubtful. “Won’t he mind being bonded to a…to a man?”

Arthur smiled at him. “Sometimes I forget you weren’t raised among us, Harry. Bill is bisexual. Many witches and wizards are. Your gender won’t be a problem, I assure you.” Why did Arthur have such a satisfied smile on his face when his eldest child was near death? Harry couldn’t fathom it. Then again, he couldn’t fathom a lot of things. Hermione always told him, affectionately of course, that he was thick as a plank when it came to interpersonal relations. Harry wasn’t sure he even knew what those were.

Harry blinked again, his mind whirling. How could he not have known that Bill was bisexual? More importantly, why had Bill never told him that he and Fleur were getting divorced? He’d thought they were better friends than that. They exchanged letters fairly frequently, given their disparate locations and jobs. Bill was still a curse-breaker for Gringotts. He wasn’t limited to Egypt nowadays, but went all over the world on assignments.

Harry had taken a job as an apprentice broomwright with Firebolt Racing Brooms and was happily working his way up to Journeyman status. The factory he worked in was located in Devon, not far from Ottery St. Catchpole. He had a cottage close to the Burrow, and was quite content with his life these days.

He wasn’t at all sure he wanted to give up his vocation for Bill, and he was pretty sure Bill wouldn’t want to stop being a curse breaker for him, either. Blast. This was already getting complicated. He supposed they’d find a way to work things out. If necessary, Harry could take a leave of absence while he and Bill settled the bond and learned long distance Apparition. Or how to make a Portkey.

He slumped into a chair and pinched his nose, trying to stave off the inevitable headache. He knew he liked Bill. They were already friends. He knew he thought Bill was attractive, though he’d tried not to think about that since he’d married Fleur. He thought Bill liked him. But he hadn’t mentioned his getting divorced and that made Harry wonder. Maybe Bill would rather not be bothered by Harry’s letters. Perhaps Bill didn’t think of him as anything other than Ron’s pesky friend.

He wondered if Bill found him attractive. He wondered if they’d get along on a daily basis. Then he remembered the Horcrux hunt. Bill was witty, intelligent, short tempered before his first cup of tea, but otherwise an even tempered bloke. They’d rarely argued, even when Hermione and Ron’s bickering had been fit to drive them both mad. Maybe that meant Harry didn’t matter to Bill. Or maybe it meant they’d get along famously. Bill wasn’t even properly divorced yet; surely he’d be unhappy at the idea of being bonded for the rest of his life, and against his will, at that.

Still, did any of these petty concerns really matter?

If he didn’t cast the spell and lend Bill his magic, Bill would die. It was that simple.

Finally, he looked up, bright green eyes resting on each face in turn. When he got to Healer Jones, he nodded once, decisively.

“I’ll do it.” He looked back over at Arthur and Molly.

“I want you two to help me explain it to him when he wakes up.”

They nodded gratefully. Arthur gave Harry another quiet smile. “It’s really not going to be a problem for him, Harry.”

Harry wasn’t so sure of that, but Arthur was often right about these things. He’d work the spell and help take care of Bill until he was completely recovered. The rest would sort itself out.

Harry went back in to sit at Bill’s bedside. He flopped down in the chair and tried to get comfortable. He reached out and took one of Bill’s hands in his own, trying to warm it. He knew he should be resting, in preparation for casting the spell, but he couldn’t seem to make himself go too far away. He squeezed Bill’s hand reassuringly, and murmured, “It will be all right, Bill. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

~finis~