Birds of a Feather (Stick Together)

Mary Anne's eyes flicked to the wand as Harry pulled it free. Her gaze sharpened, curiosity mingling with caution. She crossed her arms over her chest, watching him intently. "What is that?"

"It's… a tool," Harry said simply. He knelt by Andre's bed, his fingers tightening around the Elder Wand. "You'll just have to trust me."

Eli stepped closer, his breath hitching. "Is it magic, then? Like, real magic?"

Harry hesitated, then gave a faint nod. "Something like that."

Mary Anne's lips pressed into a thin line, her posture tense but steady. "If it helps him, I don't care what it is."

Harry gave a small, grateful smile. He turned his focus to Andre, his brow furrowing as he murmured a diagnostic charm.

A soft golden light spread from the tip of the wand, washing over Andre's body. Harry's brow furrowed as the light shifted, highlighting areas of concern. His stomach glowed faintly, the pattern indicating inflammation and irritation—likely caused by an untreated infection.

"Looks like an intestinal infection," Harry said after a moment. He extinguished the light and turned to Mary Anne. "Probably caused by contaminated food or water. His body's too weak to fight it off on its own, and without medicine…"

Mary Anne's face paled. "We don't have medicine," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

"I know," Harry said gently. "But I can help him hold on until you can get some."

Mary Anne's breath hitched. "Is it—can you—?"

"I can stabilize him," Harry said quickly, his tone reassuring. "What I can do will buy him time. Nothing more."

Mary Anne's shoulders sagged with relief. "Time is enough. Please."

Harry turned back to Andre, his expression resolute. "He needs food and water to get his strength back, but his body can't handle them right now. I can bypass that for him. Give him what he needs without making him sick."

Eli's eyes widened. "You can do that?"

Harry nodded, though his jaw was tight. "For a while, yes. It won't fix the infection, but it'll keep him alive until we can. I need you to bring me some easy-to-eat food. Maybe a soup?"

"We've got a bit of cabbage cream we've cooked for dinner," she was quick to answer.

"That will do fine." He glanced at Eli. "Can you bring it here?"

The teen nodded and went running. Harry adjusted his grip on the wand, his mind racing through the spells he'd learned with Hermione during their frantic study sessions before the Battle of Hogwarts. Healing magic had always felt different—delicate, precise, more like persuasion than command.

He began with a cooling charm, murmuring the incantation as he directed a soft stream of magic toward Andre's fevered brow. The boy's labored breaths eased, his body relaxing as the heat receded.

Next, Harry conjured a faint stream of water, directing it into a bowl nearby. With a quiet incantation, he purified it before placing a hand on Andre's chest.

"Nutrire."

A faint golden thread of magic extended from the tip of the wand, connecting to the boy's chest. Harry guided the magic carefully, transporting the purified water directly to Andre's stomach. Andre stirred, his small body relaxing as the hydration reached him without triggering his nausea.

Harry shifted his focus to the infection, his wand moving in careful, deliberate arcs.

"Fortifico."

A golden light enveloped Andre's frail body, bolstering his immune system and reinforcing his strength. Harry channeled the magic with painstaking care, ensuring it didn't overwhelm the boy's fragile state.

When Eli came back, Harry had already done enough for the boy to process the food, so he used a gentle spell to place the food directly in his inflamed stomach, manually directing nutrients and water directly into his bloodstream. It wasn't a permanent solution, but it would keep the boy stable until proper medicine could be found.

"It's not a cure," Harry said, leaning back and wiping the sweat from his brow. Andre's breathing was slow but steady now, his face no longer pinched with pain. "But it'll keep him stable for now. His body needs proper medicine to fight the infection, but this will give him a chance to recover."

Mary Anne knelt beside the bed, her hand brushing over Andre's forehead. Her lips trembled as she looked back at Harry. "You did it," she whispered.

Eli stepped closer, his eyes wide with awe. "That was… that was amazing. You just—he's—"

Harry raised a hand, cutting him off gently. "It's not a cure," he said, his voice low but firm. "He still needs antibiotics. Medicine. This will give him a chance, but he's not out of the woods yet."

Mary Anne nodded quickly, her expression resolute. "We'll find the medicine. I'll do whatever it takes."

Harry's gaze softened as he watched her. Despite the exhaustion etched into her features, she radiated determination—a fierce, unyielding love for the children under her care.

Eli looked at Harry, his expression shifting from awe to something more vulnerable. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Really. We don't get a lot of people like you around here."

Harry offered a faint smile, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead. "It's nothing," he said, though the weight of what he'd done—and what he couldn't do—pressed heavily on his chest.

Mary Anne stood, her hand resting briefly on Harry's shoulder. "You're welcome here anytime," she said simply.

Harry hesitated, the words catching him off guard. He wasn't used to this—acceptance without suspicion, gratitude without expectation.

"Thank you," he said finally. "I'll… see what else I can do to help. Are there more children in need of help?"

Mary Anne shook her head, glancing between Eli and Harry. "It can wait until tomorrow. Andre here was the most serious. The others have scrapes and bruises. A girl, Samantha, has a broken arm we don't think is healing well, but, like I said, it can wait until tomorrow. She's sleeping now."

"Oh," he floundered, unsure what to do now. "Then, I can return tomorrow—"

"Not before eating something, you won't. And if you need a place to stay, there are a couple of free rooms."

He blinked, surprised by her pushiness. He glanced at Eli, but the boy was trying, and failing, to hide his smile. "Come, Harry, I will lead you to the kitchen."

Harry just nodded and stepped back into the hallway. He glanced at Mary Anne, who was still by Andre's bedside, her expression tender as she smoothed the boy's blanket.

Eli leaned against the wall, watching Harry with a mixture of curiosity and something like hope.

"You're staying, right?" Eli asked, his tone casual but his eyes searching.

Harry didn't answer immediately. He looked down at the Elder Wand in his hand, its weight both familiar and strange. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt something stir inside him—a faint spark of purpose.

"Yeah," Harry said finally, tucking the wand back into his pocket. "For now."

Eli grinned, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Good. We could use someone like you around here."

Harry didn't reply, but as he glanced back toward Andre's room, he felt a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

Harry huffed a faint laugh, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. "Not really. Just someone who's seen too much of this before."

Mary Anne stepped closer, finally leaving Andre's side, her hand resting on his arm. "Whatever you've seen, whatever you've been through—you've made a difference here."

Harry didn't respond, but his gaze lingered on the boy for a long moment. In the back of his mind, Hermione's voice whispered: "You're good at this, Harry. You can help people. That's what matters."