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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP Characters:None Genres: Tragedy Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1174 Summary: Harry gets one night that gives him a glimpse into what life could be like with the Dursley's. But events turn for the worse and both Harry and the wizarding world are left wondering what it's consquences mean for the future of the world. Hitcount: Story Total: 501436; Chapter Total: 13127 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: I don't own anything. JK Rowling owns the entire Potter Universe. I write fan fics for fun and to take up time. No Copyright infringement is intended. |
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Chapter 25: Pieces Mended "Good morning Harry," Mrs. Weasley greeted as he entered the kitchen and took a seat at the table, bringing a platter of sausages towards himself to fill his plate. "Morning," Harry said groggily and slightly hoarse as he used the side of his fork to cut the links into smaller pieces. After the previous night's events of revealing the contents of the Prophecy and going over his memory of the night Sirius died, Harry had found himself emotionally drained. He was also still a bit sore from the lingering effects of his spectacular broom crash a few days before. So after leaving the kitchen last night, he had retired to his room with Ginny to rest and let the others talk about their plans and other things. He and Ginny hadn't done anything other than share a few kisses and very few words had been exchanged. They had spent the better part of the few hours after just sitting and holding each other. Everything he was feeling and everything she was trying to convey to him seemed to be understood, as they were content with just being near the other for comfort. Harry fell asleep with Ginny wrapped tightly around him and had awoken during the early morning hours to find her gone and Ron and Neville fast asleep in their respective beds where they hadn't been when he had drifted off. "Did you sleep all right dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she threw a sympathetic glance over her shoulder before busying herself with the ingredients simmering on the stove. "I actually got a pretty good night's rest," Harry smiled. He had slept probably better last night than he had in a while. Maybe it was because he had a bit of a weight off of his chest from telling everyone? Or perhaps he was just too exhausted and drained to do anything else but sleep? "That's good to hear," Mrs. Weasley replied, scooping a heap of scrambled eggs from a pan onto a plate. She placed the pan back onto the stove and then brought plate to the table, setting it in front of Harry. Before she pulled away, she placed a soft kiss on the crown of his head and embraced him from behind. The gesture caught Harry off guard, but he didn't shy away, but instead let her mother him and hug him. "I'm so proud of the way you handled yourself last night sweetheart," she whispered into his ear and rubbed him across his upper back with a hand. "And remember I'm always here if you need it. We all are," she added, before moving away. "I know," Harry replied with a smile as he turned to face her. "Thank you," he said, nodding. Mrs. Weasley gave him one last pat on the shoulders before returning to her cooking. As Harry ate, he could hear Mrs. Weasley sniffling quietly. He tried to ignore these subtle sounds, but couldn't help but feel horrible about it. He had said some hurtful things in the heat of everything last night and had at least once snapped at her interjections. He knew she understood why and that hurt even worse. Mrs. Weasley was the closest thing to a mother he had ever known and he knew that she considered him one of her own children, sans the red hair and freckles. So he knew it must be hard on her, perhaps in some ways even more than on himself, to know what he must do and what his fate must entail. Harry tried his best to finish his breakfast in piece without thinking about what his news and revelations must be doing to the woman behind him. Just as Harry was finishing up his last bits of eggs and sausages on his plate, the screen door on the kitchen to the outside opened and Remus stepped in, dusting off his cloak and looking around to see who was around. "Morning Molly," He greeted as Mrs. Weasley turned around at the sound of the door opening. She smiled back to him and then went back to the new pan of eggs she was frying for the occupants of the house that were still asleep. "Morning Harry," Remus greeted more quietly as he sat at the table across from the boy and pulled the kettle of coffee near him and poured it into a stray mug for himself. "If you're up to it today...I'd like to start trying to work on controlling your magic. I'm not quite how long it'll take to harness it...so it be better to start as soon as possible," he added after taking a sip from his coffee and reaching for some sugar and milk for it. Harry nodded quickly, gulping down the bit of orange juice he had put into his mouth before he answered. "Yeah...that'd be fine...great actually," he said quickly. "Well, finish your breakfast and get showered and changed and we can start when you're ready," Remus told him, acknowledging Harry's eagerness with a smile of amusement. Harry smiled back and shoved the last pieces of sausage into his mouth, quickly washing them down with the last dregs of orange juice in his cup. He wanted to start this as soon as he could. He wanted to be able to use his magic and do spells without worrying about destroying things or people. "Thanks for the food Mrs. Weasley," Harry said as he pulled himself off of the chair and to a standing position. "No problem dear," she said as she waved his thanks off in modesty. "Be a good lad and wake up the others though. Remind them that I don't serve breakfast all day." Harry smiled and nodded before taking a step towards Mrs. Weasley and doing something that she didn't expect out of him and perhaps he didn’t expect it either. He wrapped his arm around her and bent down, placing his chin on her shoulder and squeezed her tight. Mrs. Weasley seemed a bit shocked that Harry had initiated the embrace but she soon wrapped her arms around his thin frame and squeezed back. “Thank you Mrs. Weasley,” he whispered softly into her hair before pulling away and leaving her with a smile before turning around and heading towards the stairs. Mrs. Weasley was left staring at the space where Harry had just been, a smile on her face and an unreadable tear in her eye. After losing herself for a few moments, she sighed deeply and turned to Remus who was watching on in silence, sipping quietly on his coffee. “I’ll never quite understand how he’s turned out to be such a wonderful young man,” Mrs. Weasley breathed. “How he handles everything he’s ever been put through or that’s been thrown on him…and still continues to be so caring and so compassionate.” “That’s his parents in him,” Remus said fondly, with a reminiscing smile on his face. “Mostly…Lily,” he added with a small chuckle. Molly responded by letting out another small exhale of breath. “Sometimes I wish we could give him that…” she said suddenly. “That they could see him grow like I have…just how fantastic he really is.” “I like to think they do,” Remus said sadly, but with an air of reassurance to both Molly and himself. “I like to think that not only do they live on in him…but that they’re somewhere watching. That they’re as proud of him as we are.” Mrs. Weasley nodded in agreement and closed her eyes against her unshed tears. “And I don’t think you realize, Molly, that you do give him what I don’t think any of us others can,” Remus added. “Not only is he like Lily and James…but he has a bit of you and Arthur in him too. You’ve both had a big influence on who he’s become.” Molly shook her head, as if trying to shake off Remus’s comment. “I can never replace what he lost that night,” she said sadly. “None of us can,” Remus said hollowly. “But I know if they could have picked anyone to try and fill that space for Harry, it would have been you and Arthur. I know James, at least, was jumping for joy the day Ron sat with Harry on the train. Well...almost as much as when he worked up the guts to finally act on Ginny.” Mrs. Weasley managed a smile at the thought and then sighed again deeply, turning back to the stove and staring out the window and out into the clear meadow that opened next to the Burrow. “I just wish I could keep filling that role and protect him,” she said sadly. “We can only do so much,” Remus offered. “After that…” he added, taking a breath, “I always ask my best friends to take of their son…in ways we can’t.” ----------------------------- ------- “Try it again Harry,” Remus said as he repaired the clay jar that Harry had been trying to levitate for the past hour or so. Harry breathed out in frustration and took his stance on the other side of the sitting room and pointed his wand at the jar. “I really don’t think one more time is going to make a difference,” Harry grumbled. “Let’s just give it a go a few more times,” Remus encouraged. “Try…maybe non-verbal. Sometimes that lessens the effect.” Harry sighed and nodded, moving his wand in an upward motion, flicking it at the container and silently thinking the incantation. As had happened the first forty times he had tried the spell, a jet of wand-light emanated from the tip and shattered the jar into a pile of rubble. Harry let out a loud growl of frustration and hurled his wand across the room, where it hit the wall and shot out a fountain of sparks before clattering to the floor. Harry flung himself down on the couch, running his hand through his hair and over his face hard. “Harry…you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” Remus said as he sat down on the sofa next to him. “You’re dealing with something you never had to before…it’s going to take some time.” “I don’t have time,” Harry breathed dejectedly through his fingers. “I’m sick of just sitting around while everyone else deals with the real things, while I hide away, waiting until I’m ready. I hate hearing about what’s really going on out there and all the people who are getting hurt, knowing I could be doing something…that I could put a stop to all the suffering.” “You are doing something Harry,” Remus sighed, running a hand through his own sandy, graying hair. “You’re dealing with everything that’s been dumped on you…and that frankly…is more than anything that the rest of us have been doing.” Harry continued to stare into his palm, kneading his face with his hand. “And remember,” Remus added. “It’s not your fault that things are happening and people are getting hurt. It has nothing to do with you not being ready or ‘hiding’ from it all. Everything that’s happened and everything that’s going on is because of…V-Voldemort. Because he chooses to do awful things.” Harry looked up into his former professor’s face as he spoke the dark lord’s name. He met Remus’s gaze with a certain form of disbelief and hardness, but it soon melted away as he took in the sincerity and truth in his eyes. “I know,” Harry sighed reluctantly. “I just want so hard to get this…to get it under control. I just…I just don’t know how. And as much as this power could be an asset and a help…it scares me.” Remus nodded, staring into the empty space in front of him and creasing his brows in concentration. “What are you thinking about when you perform the spell?” Remus asked suddenly, looking at Harry questioningly. Harry raised his own eyebrows and cast a confused look at Remus. “I don’t know…mostly…not blowing up the jar again,” Harry reasoned, wondering where this was going. Remus nodded his head in response, furrowing his brows as if trying to figure something out. “Maybe that’s your problem,” he offered, his face coming into some sort of realization. “Huh?” Harry blurted. “Well you just said you’re scared of the power you’re harboring, and you’re clearly holding back because you’re afraid of blowing things up,” Remus said slowly. Harry continued to study him skeptically. “You’re trying to clamp it down and restrain it. What you’re actually doing is making it concentrate in spurts and small bursts instead of a beam or stream. You’re reluctance and fear of what you could possibly do…is what’s making your magic so sporadic and concentrated,” Remus added. “So…” Harry said slowly, trying to wrap his mind around everything. “All I need to do is…stop worrying…and I can do magic without obliterating everything in sight?” “It’s worth a try,” Remus said with a chuckle. Harry nodded and the corner of his mouth curled in a bit at the comment. “Yeah…but now I actually have to stop worrying. I’m not sure that’s going to be as easy as it sounds,” Harry interjected. “We won’t know that till we actually test it out, will we?” Remus inquired. “How bout we give it a whirl?” “Ok,” Harry responded heavily, pushing himself off of the couch and striding over to pick up his discarded wand off of the floor. He brandished the wand in his hand, turning to face Remus as he conjured a new jar and stepped aside. “Alright…instead of worrying about wrecking the jar, just cast the spell,” Remus instructed. “It’s just a jar…remember that. It doesn’t matter if you break it or ruin it.” Harry nodded, trying hard just to concentrate on the spell and the movements, instead of the possibility of ruining the clay container. He took one last steadying breath and then executed the practiced movements, murmuring ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ underneath his breath. Unlike the other times, nothing came out of his wand. And also, unlike the previous attempts, the jar did not explode or disintegrate, but instead shot straight up into the air, hitting the ceiling and before crashing back to the floor. “Whoa,” was all Harry could muster as he bent over to pick up the un-shattered jar from the floor. He also looked up at the ceiling to see a slight mark where it had hit. “That’s certainly an improvement,” Remus said as he watched from his spot next to the table it had been sitting on. “At least it’s not a pile of dust,” Harry said, finding a bit of humor in this all. “How do you reckon I stop it from flying to the moon though? I’m pretty sure if the ceiling wasn’t there it would have made it there.” “I imagine you were still a bit nervous about perhaps destroying the jar,” Remus reasoned. “I suppose it’ll get better once you master your worry and get a bit more practice.” “Well,” Harry offered, placing the jar back on the table and taking his spot across from it. “I’ve got all day.” ------------------------------- ----------- “Wake him up dear,” Mrs. Weasley said quietly as she set a small cauldron of onion soup on the table. Ginny looked up at her mother and then followed her eyes to the sleeping boy next to her. Harry was sitting up in his chair, but his eyes were closed and he was snoring softly, tipping precariously in his chair as everybody else waited for dinner to be served. Ginny couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, dozing off and totally oblivious that he was about to sleep through a meal. She almost didn’t want to wake him up. He had been working really hard the past few days. He had made a lot of headway with controlling his magic and could perform most of the standard spells he knew without much difficulty. Every once in a while, like when he tried a new spell, he’d have a bit of trouble and might lose control, but other than that he was doing nicely. He even had mastered some household and personal spells that helped him tie his shoes and button things with ease. Kingsley Schacklebolt had stopped by a few days ago with a list of things that Harry could do to keep in shape. There were a variety of stretches and exercises that Shacklebolt had said were standard repertoire for Aurors in training. Tonks had volunteered to work with him when she had spare time and had gone on runs with him around the Burrow the last few days. Ginny hadn’t been able to help laughing when Harry and Tonks came back to the Burrow after their first jog around the property. Tonks had been her usual chipper self, barely breaking a sweat. Harry on the other hand had been dripping and very out of breath and had unceremoniously collapsed onto the ground to catch his breath once they had stopped. She had been worried at first, thinking that perhaps running wasn’t such a good idea so soon after his accident and re-injuring his lungs. But her fears were put to rest when Tonks had teased Harry about not being able to keep up with an old bat like herself and Harry had responded by grumbling something about it being ‘hard running with one arm. And spending half the time trying not to fall over.’ But Harry had gone out the next day too, and came back still out of breath, but a little less sweaty and distraught looking. She knew that he wanted to get some of his health and strength back that he had yet to regain after the accident. He wanted to be able to physically go through with the tasks he knew he’d be facing and wanted the best possible chance to survive. She knew it also helped that she had hinted that him adding a little extra weight and muscle wouldn’t be a bad thing. And that she wouldn’t mind having a bit more of him to hold onto. So being driven by whatever motive, Harry had thrown himself whole-heartedly into his attempts at fitness. Although he had quizzically asked Kingsley how he was supposed to do push-ups with one arm. And Shacklebolt had graciously gotten down and shown Harry it could be done. Though one had to admit, the tall and broad framed seasoned Auror’s thick and well-muscled arms were much more adept at performing the task than the wiry one attached to Harry’s slender body built for Seeking. Suffice it to say, his first attempts at one armed push-ups didn’t go as planned and earned a hearty jab from Ron as he lay face down on the floor. Though it had to be pointed out, that after Hermione mentioned that maybe Harry wasn’t the only one who could stand some physical activity and toning, that Ron had volunteered to help Harry and join in on some of the workouts. So it was no wonder that Harry had fallen asleep at the dinner table. He had been working hard the past week or so and was in all reality, still recovering somewhat from the car accident and the Quidditch crash. “Harry,” Ginny said quietly as she nudged him in the side. Harry’s eyes slowly fluttered open and he looked around for the source of the disruption. His eyes widened as he looked down at Ginny who was grinning slyly at him and then around at the table, where the rest of the guests were giving him the same soft of amused smile. “Sorry,” he mumbled hoarsely as he lowered his head and tried to blink the tiredness out of his eyes. “That’s quite alright dear,” Mrs. Weasley said as she finished bringing the last bowls and platters of food to the table and sat down near the head of it, next to Mr. Weasley. “Are you sure you don’t want to kip upstairs for a while? I could keep a plate or two warmed for you.” “No,” Harry replied graciously as he took a bowl of mashed potatoes and spooned them onto his plate, taking up half of it. “I’m so bloody hungry I could eat half a hippogriff. Sleep can wait.” Several of the people at the table laughed and Harry continued to pile his plate with roast chicken, peas, and various other homemade dishes Mrs. Weasley had made. “You better slow down there mate,” joked Charlie as he watched Harry start to devour a leg of chicken from the pile on his plate. “Between you and Ron there might not be anything left for the rest of us.” “Shush,” Mrs. Weasley warned. “They’re both growing boys and they need their food. Besides, I can always make a bit more.” “If either of them grow anymore you might have to raise the house a few more inches Molly,” Remus laughed as he started to eat his own meal and watched Ron and Harry tackle their plates respectively, seemingly unaware of the conversation going on around them and solely concentrated on the food. The meal continued on with small talk and news from the world outside of the Burrow. There had been a few more Dementor attacks as well as Death Eater attacks on Muggles and wizards alike. But other than the usual macabre state of the world, there was nothing striking to report. Molly was just about to bring out a few pans of rhubarb crumble (which Ron and Harry both insisted they had room enough for a few helpings) when the fireplace in the kitchen burst into emerald green flames and the stiff and proper form of Professor McGonagall materialized in the whirl, stepping out and brushing herself off. “Ahh Minerva…I was wondering if you would make it for dinner. Pull up a chair and I’ll get you a plate,” Mrs. Weasley offered. “No thanks Molly,” Professor McGonagall said politely, waving off Mrs. Weasley as she went to put together a plate. “I just stopped by to let you all know that the governors met again today and have decided to continue to evaluate the possibility of re-opening Hogwarts.” “It’s nearing September 1st,” Bill said from beside his wife. “They really don’t have much time before then to decide.” “Well…” McGonagall started to explain. “They officially have until the third week in September to decide. After the middle of the month it’s against school by laws to open it up. If it’s to open this year they must reach a decision by the fifteenth so we can notify those students still willing to attend.” “So until then…there’s still a chance for it to continue to run,” Mr. Weasley asked in clarification. “Yes…until then we must entertain the possibility that students can return for first term,” she clarified. “I just wanted to let you all know so if you need to make preparations to return you can. I know Miss Weasley, as well as Mr. Longbottom and Miss Lovegood have all expressed the intent to return so I thought you might like to be informed.” “Thank you Minerva,” Mr. Weasley said from his spot at the head of the table. “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” “No…I must be getting back…I have things to prepare and finalize if we have any chance of opening if the governors do decide that,” she replied graciously. “Good night everyone,” she added with an incline of the head before turning and throwing a handful of powder into the fire from her pocket, stepping into the green fire and disappearing. “Speaking of returning,” Remus said as conversation had grown sparse since the headmistress’s news. “We think it might be best if we think about returning to Headquarters in the next week or so. It’d be easier to coordinate Order business and it would be…a bit safer for everyone. Not that there’s any immanent worry,” he added quickly. “But the wedding is over and it would be more sensible of a location for us all.” There were a few sounds of agreement and a few grumbles of irritation from Ron and the twins, but nothing else was said about the intent to move back to Grimmauld Place. They all knew of course, that the location was un-plottable and protected by certain charms that the Burrow wasn’t. If it was a matter or safety and protection, everyone at the table knew that certain sacrifices needed to be made. And for the Weasleys it was leaving their beloved home to dwell at the dank and dark confines of Black manor. ------------------------------------ ------------ “Very good Harry,” Remus praised as Harry successfully disillusioned a textbook that had been set in front of him and then made it reappear with a wave of his wand. He had been steadily improving on his magic in the past few days and had even succeeded in doing a few of his ‘helper’ spells (as he called them) wand-less. Ginny had laughed at him when he had woken up the previous morning and came downstairs wearing one of the button-up shirts that he had gotten for his birthday and proudly and shamelessly announced that he had buttoned it up himself. He found that if he didn’t worry so much about causing some sort of damage and destruction, that he tended to blow things up a lot less. Though occasionally he did cause an unsuspecting goblet or book to disappear or start on fire when he tried out a new spell. On though whole though, he was a lot more confident with his powers than he had been a few days ago. “Maybe you should try it on something bigger now,” Ginny offered as she sat across the table and spooned a mouthful of stew into her mouth, watching Remus coach Harry on the spell at hand. “How about Ron?” interjected one of the twins. “I doubt anyone would miss him if you happened to over-do the spell.” “Hey!” Ron said indignantly from his spot near the end of the table where he was finishing up his own stew. Harry chuckled at the situation and threateningly pointed his wand and Ron, acting as though he was going to cast the spell on him. Ron responded by widening his eyes and coughing on the bit of food in his mouth. “Nah,” said Harry finally, lowering his wand and having enough of torturing Ron. “I think Hermione might actually miss him.” Everyone sitting at the table burst into laughter, including Hermione who was sitting next to Ron, trying hard to be sympathetic to Ron’s plight, but failing miserably. “No…I think you’ve got that one down,” Remus chimed in, jumping into Ron’s rescue. “Maybe we can give this a rest for now and if you want…you could possible try your hand at appar–” Remus was about to finish, when the screen door of the kitchen flung open and the ‘clunk’ of Mad-Eye Moody’s peg leg turned everyone’s attention towards the door. “Evening Alastor,” Remus said as the ex-Auror hobbled into the kitchen. “Remus,” Moody greeted, inclining his head to the werewolf, as well as the teens sitting at the table. “Ahhh…Potter…just the lad I wanted to see.” Harry raised his eyebrows skeptically, wondering why Moody wanted to see him. “I’d like you to meet someone,” Moody gruffed, turning around to address a small figure that was standing behind him and most of the people in the kitchen had failed to notice. The thin, slight man stepped out from behind Moody’s shadow and into the light that the lanterns were shedding on the wooden kitchen. He was pale and narrow faced, with shoulder-length, wavy brown hair that framed his face and weak features. Harry again narrowed his brows in confusion, wondering who this stranger was and why Moody wanted Harry to meet him. “This is Peter Kristoff. He’s an old friend of mine and I think you’ll find he has some information that might be useful to you,” Moody said almost proudly. The man stepped forward and reached across the table, holding out his hand to shake Harry’s. Harry hesitated, but then cordially grasped the man’s hand and shook back. “It’s nice to meet you Harry,” Mr. Kristoff said in a friendly voice. Harry nodded in acknowledgement, noting that Kristoff hadn’t called him ‘Mr. Potter’ like so many people who met him for the first time did. “Hello, nice to meet you Mr. Kristoff,” Harry responded as he let go of the man’s hand. As nice and as friendly as Peter Kristoff was, Harry still had no clue as to what he was doing there and why Moody wanted him to talk to him. “What exactly…is it…you want to talk to me about?” Harry asked, letting his over-riding curiosity get the best of him. “Oh–well,” Peter Kristoff recovered nicely from Harry’s inquiry. “I was actually hoping I could speak to you in private.” Harry looked around at Remus, who nodded approvingly, giving Harry some sort of indication that this Kristoff was reliable. Moody also gave him a look that assured him that it was ok to go with Mr. Kristoff. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and the twins, however, gave Harry unsteady and confused looks of their own. “Ok…” Harry relented, standing up and stuffing his wand in his back pocket. “We can go up to my room.” Harry gestured up the stairs, casting one last glance at the room before leading Kristoff up the stairs and out of sight. “So who exactly was that guy?” Ron blurted when the two disappeared up the stairs. “Kristoff is an old friend of mine. He used to be an Auror but works mostly in the development and technology aspect of things now,” Moody offered. “Development and technology?” questioned Fred with interest. “He’s developed some shields and has done some fine work in surveillance and imaging spells and gadgets that are used by the Auror force,” Moody answered. “You two might be interested in talking to him and bouncing a few ideas off of him,” he added, turning to the twins. “So why is he talking to Harry?” Ron asked. “Well, aside from all the work he does concerning battle and investigative technology,” Moody explained slowly. “He also specializes in prosthetics. He’s commissioned and built a lot of pieces that help injured Aurors.” Everyone’s eyes widened in realization to why Peter Kristoff wanted to talk to Harry alone. This guy was here to talk to Harry about getting fitted for a fake arm. Which was something that Harry had adamantly refused to talk about, only stating that he didn’t want to walk around with a piece of plastic or hook hanging from his shoulder. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Ginny, voicing everyone’s understood concern. “We thought it might be beneficial if Harry at least talked with Kristoff,” Remus offered, letting on that he knew about this meeting and that Moody’s visit wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing. “Kristoff is really one of the best. He comes from a long line of prostetists.” “His father Gregory’s the one that fitted me with my leg,” Moody gruffed proudly, tapping his wooden leg with his gnarled walking stick. All the teens at the table looked wearily at the wooden leg. “Don’t worry,” Moody chuckled. “Things have changed since I needed his services and Peter is more into the modern gadgetry and technology than his father. You’d be surprised at all things they can do and achieve with these types of things these days.” “And besides,” the old Auror laughed. “I keep this old thing around for intimidation and the effect it has. Potter’s going to have much better than this. He’s in good hands.” ----------------------------- -------------- “Alastor tells me that you were recently in a pretty serious accident,” Peter said as Harry showed him into the bedroom he shared with Ron and Neville. Harry closed the door behind the two and surveyed Kristoff as the older man took in the slightly messy room that harbored three teenage boys. “Uh...yeah,” Harry said slowly as he stood there, still trying to figure out what this man wanted. “Harry, the reason I’m here is because Alastor and a few members of the Order came to me to see if I could help your situation,” Peter explained as he turned to Harry, seemingly getting right to the point. “I deal with prosthetics and I’ve been asked to talk to you about seeing if we can’t get you fitted with a new arm and up and running at full power again.” Harry swallowed and then turned away from Kristoff. He thought he was doing pretty good with one arm and had adapted well to his current situation. He knew he had made it known that he didn’t feel comfortable when the topic of a prosthetic arm was brought up. Maybe it was from seeing what Muggles did for people who had lost a limb or from hanging around Mad-Eye too long. But the prospect of having to rely on an inanimate extension of his former self and a replacement for something he’d never really get back, didn’t appeal to him in many ways. “I know that it’s difficult enough losing a limb,” Peter offered as though he knew exactly what Harry’s silence meant. “And the idea of replacing what you lost can be just as hard. But I think you find that a prosthetic can help you get back what you think you’ve adapted to already.” Harry nodded. “I just…for some reason,” Harry started scattered. “I just don’t want to warm up to the idea of having a fake arm. I guess…in some ways…it feels like I would be really…really admitting that my arm is gone,” Harry added. “If that makes any sense.” “It makes perfect sense,” Kristoff said as he took a seat on Ron’s bed and continued to study Harry. “And I suppose that having only Alastor as an example it doesn’t warm you up to the idea either.” Harry stifled a chuckle and had to incline his head in agreement. “Moody’s behind the times,” Kristoff laughed, reaching for his sleeve and pulling it back. He wrapped his other hand around the middle of his forearm and squeezed. A small hiss escaped as he twisted and pulled away, taking his lower forearm and hand along with it, leaving only a stump. Harry’s eyes widened as he watched Kristoff remove his hand and give Harry a friendly grin. “Took a bad bludgeoning hex and a slicing curse at the same time when I was a young Auror. We were on a surveillance mission and got ambushed,” Kristoff explained. “I’ve been working behind the scenes ever since. I’m sort of the ‘gadget guy,’ if you needed to describe me.” “Here, take a look,” he offered, holding out his prosthetic hand for Harry to take. Harry hesitated, feeling a bit awkward at being offered a hand. What also threw him was the fact that he hadn’t noticed that Kristoff was missing a limb. He had shaken hands with this man and had not felt or gotten any inclination that something was off. And the hand, even disembodied from the rest of him, didn’t look remotely abnormal or fake. In fact, it looked very much like the real thing. “Go ahead,” Peter pressed again. Harry reached out slowly and took the hand, tentatively grasping it and turning it around. The skin covering it was lifelike and leathery, as if giving the impression it was that of a hard-working, middle-aged man. But as Harry closely studied that realness of it, down to the fingernails and hair on the forearm, he noticed that at the end you could see the inside, which was strangely mechanical looking. He could see the metallic framework of the insides that simulated the bones and gave the hand and arm its structure. There were thin fibrils of gold-like wire interlocking and forming a web in the spaces in between. “How does this work?” Harry asked, suddenly letting his keen interest take over. “It attaches to the nerve endings and sensory receptors in the brain, letting the person have control over movement through thought and natural processes,” explained Kristoff as he took the hand and pointed to the thin fibers and then to his arm, where there were a few pinhead sized dots. “You can feel things with this?” inquired Harry as he drew on his miniscule knowledge on brain processes from his Muggle schooling days. “Yes,” Kristoff answered. “It may not be as fine a sensation or perceptive as mine or your normal hands…but well enough to function at close to normal levels.” “So I’d be able to feel things and control my arm…pretty close to how it used to be?” Harry asked. “Considering the level of your amputation and the fact that it was performed by Muggle doctors, instead of a healer,” Kristoff explained measurably, “You probably won’t have the highest level of sensation…but I can’t say for sure without examining you and checking things out for a sure.” Harry seemed to sag for a moment, disheartened by the fact that even with a new arm; he still would have some difficulties and disabilities. But after hanging his head and deliberating for a bit, he lifted his gaze up to Kristoff who had taken his hand and replaced it back onto his amputated forearm. “So what would happen if I agreed?” Harry questioned quietly. “I would start by taking measurements, checking the nerves and sensory structure, as well as muscle and bone structure I have to work with. And then I’d discuss with you what you want and need from your arm,” Kristoff described. “After I get the specifications and measurements, I can have something ready for you in a week or so. Then I’d have you stop by my shop and I’d show you what I’d developed and I’d tweak and change things…overhaul things if you disliked it. And if all goes well…have you fitted and equipped that same day.” Harry raised his brows, thoroughly impressed at the small amount of time it would take. “Ok…what do you need me to do?” Harry inquired. “If you’d just take off your t-shirt and relax,” Peter said smoothly, reaching into his cloak pocket, drawing out a small cloth package and setting it on the table. He pulled back the velvety cloth, revealing a set of small, metal tools. “This won’t hurt and isn’t invasive at all,” Kristoff added, noticing Harry’s nervous reaction to the emergence of the tool set. Harry swallowed hard and reached for the hem of his green t-shirt, pulling it over his head and leaving him exposed and slightly uncomfortable as he sat on the bed, waiting for Peter to begin. Peter picked up a small cylindrical instrument and turned to Harry who was sitting awkwardly on the bed. Despite his experience in working with those with disfigurements, the older man took a second or two to glance over the ugly scars that Harry donned across his chest, abdomen and side. Kristoff noticed his lingering gaze and gave Harry an apologetic smile before raising the instrument to Harry’s right shoulder and running it softly across the scarred skin. Harry flinched a bit, but soon relaxed as he let Peter work. Peter continued to run the object over Harry’s skin, murmuring to himself and stopping to take notes and marks on a pad in his pocket. He repeated this with several of the other objects on the table. Finally he abandoned the equipment and raised his hands. “May I?” he asked before actually making contact. “I need to get a good feel for the muscle structure and what those Muggle docs left for me to work with.” “Yeah…sure,” Harry stuttered, unsure of how to respond. Kristoff went to work again, pressing against his right shoulder and moving down through the area where his arm had been removed. “Does this hurt?” he asked when Harry made a noise and shifted a bit. “No…actually…it tickles a bit,” Harry admitted. Kristoff chuckled a bit and nodded. “Those doctors actually did a pretty good job. There are lots of endings and nerves I can use. It tickles because that’s where the sensitive endings under your armpit used to be.” Harry laughed and continued to sit still, letting Kristoff continue his work up. After having Harry hold out his left arm and using his wand to take measurements of Harry’s arm , hand, fingers, (and to Harry’s own amusement), his bicep as he flexed it for the prosthetist for replication purposes, Kristoff told Harry he could put his shirt back on. “Well…there is a lot left intact…which is a very good thing considering that you weren’t treated by wizarding medicine. You should have no problem feeling pressure, when someone’s touching you or you’re gripping something. And as far as movement and control you shouldn’t be inhibited at all,” Kristoff explained. “Now we need to talk about what sort of needs and requirements you’re looking for in the build and structure.” Harry’s mind went blank. He had no clue what he wanted or needed out of something like this. It’s not as if he’d gone arm shopping before. “I–um…I don’t really know,” Harry blurted. “Well…this particular piece I have on is more for when I go out and is more for looks than anything,” Kristoff explained. “The one I use for my actual work is more durable and finely sensitive than this one…though undoubtedly less aesthetically appealing. You have to take into consideration that you’re young and seemingly a pretty active young man. And from what I’ve heard about you and what I know of your past…you tend to get into a lot of scrapes.” Harry snorted at Kristoff’s kind explanation of Harry’s near death encounters and battles with Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. “And from what I’ve observed and measured…you’re not quite done growing,” Kristoff said with a smile when Harry looked at him disbelievingly. Harry was already a bit over six feet with his most recent growth spurt and had been under the impression he was all done. “You’ve actually got another couple of inches in you. So I’d keep in mind that something more durable and slightly less…pretty…would be more practical, seeing as though you’ll probably need adjustments and a possible replacement in another half a year or so,” Peter added. “I guess…yeah…it needs to be durable,” Harry responded, thinking about the unknown situations and places he’d be going and traveling to. It wouldn’t be feasible to get repairs done or have things go wrong that needed specific attention. “Whatever you feel is necessary I guess.” “Alright,” Kristoff nodded, putting his package of tools back into his cloak. “I’ll get started on things right away and let Alastor know when you can come by and we can get things rolling.” “Cool…” Harry said casually. Oddly, he had gone into the room, set against the idea of using a prosthetic. And now he was actually a bit anxious and keenly interested in the process and what he might be getting. “Well…if we’re done here,” Kristoff started. “Yeah…I’ll show you out,” Harry offered, jumping from the bed and heading towards the door, opening it and gesturing for Kristoff to go ahead. He shut the door and followed the older man down the creaky stairs and into the kitchen where everyone was still sitting, talking quietly among themselves. “Everything go alright?” asked Remus as he surveyed Harry and Kristoff collectively. “Yeah…fine,” Harry answered quickly. “Things went quite well,” Kristoff beamed. “Good…” said Moody as he stood up noisily. “I’ll just follow you out Peter…I’ve got some things I need to take care of.” “Very well,” Peter said as he acknowledged his friend and fastened his cloak around his neck. “I’ll be in touch Harry,” He added as he and Moody headed out the screen door and the pops from their apparition could be heard shortly after. ------------------------------ --- “Harry stop that,” Ginny scolded as she sat on his lap, helping him prop open a book of spells he had been studying for the past hour or so. “Your face is going to stay like that permanently if you keep doing that,” she warned again when he didn’t listen and continued to furrow his face in concentration, not at all paying attention to the book in front of him. He had been staring off into space and sporting looks of deep thought and worry for a while now. “I can’t help it I’m nervous Gin,” Harry responded quietly, breaking out of his daze and turning his head towards her. Today was the day that Harry would be going to see Kristoff to put any finishing touches on his arm and, if all went well, he’d be donning his new prosthetic by nightfall. He had been trying to keep himself busy and his mind off everything until he was called on to leave. They had moved back to Grimmauld Place yesterday and he had thought that buy unpacking and helping out he could keep himself occupied. But whatever he did, he found himself thinking to this afternoon’s appointment. “Harry…there’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ll be fine,” she encouraged him, wrapping her arm around his neck and bringing his head towards her. “If anything…I’d have thought you’d have been excited,” she added after giving him a slight kiss on the lips. “I know…” Harry admitted. “I just don’t know what to expect. What if I don’t like it? What if something goes wrong? What if--?” “Shhh–” Ginny soothed, by planting a finger across his lips, clearly amused at Harry’s worry. “Nothing is going to go wrong…Kristoff is the best. And just think…you’re getting back the use of something you thought you lost forever. This is a wonderful thing.” “I’d feel better if I didn’t need to be doing this. I wish I hadn’t lost my arm in the first place,” Harry sighed. “We all wish that for you sweetheart,” Ginny said quietly, nuzzling his neck with her forehead and wrapping her arms around his neck. “But we can’t change what happened, you can only go on and make the best of things. There’s no need to be nervous. You just need to calm down,” she whispered into his ear. “That’s kind of hard at the moment,” he responded back quietly. “Seeing as you’re sitting on my lap,” he added in an insinuating tone. “You really are a randy git, you know that don’t you?” Ginny laughed, teasing him by kissing him on the bottom lip and pulling away before he could deepen it. He groaned as she pulled away and as she shifted as much as possible on his lap, making sure to keep torturing him as much as possible. “Well neither of us can help that you’re so bloody gorgeous,” Harry breathed back quietly, pulling her close and making sure she couldn’t escape his lips. The passion of their kiss intensified and they forgot that they were currently snogging in a very open sitting room, in a house full of Weasleys. “I love you,” she whispered in a slight pant, as they ended their kiss and she laid her head on his chest. “I love you–” Harry started. “Mmmhhh,” came the sound of throat clearing from the doorway that caused both of them to spring apart and turn towards the door, trying to tame their still ragged breathing. Mad-Eye was leaning against the doorframe, eyeing them with amusement and a slight, knowing grin. It looked as though he had walked in on and heard more than just the ‘I love yous.’ “Potter if you’re finished…with your…studying” he said in a tone that was more chipper than needed, “Peter’s ready for you and we can leave.” Harry was sure that he turned a shade of red that may have rivaled Ron’s best. Ginny on the other hand found all of this amusing and grinned unobtrusively. “Yeah–right,” Harry recovered, his voice cracking uncharacteristically. “We’ll be in the kitchen,” Moody informed Harry as he turned around and limped off down the hall. “I can just hear it now,” Harry groaned when he was sure that Moody was out of earshot. “What?” Ginny asked, still sounding highly pleased with the situation. “He’ll probably go say that he’s just walked in on the savior of the Wizarding world snogging the living daylight out of his girlfriend,” Harry sighed heavily. Ginny snorted at his admission. “Oh well…at least they’ll all have a good laugh about it,” Ginny said, throwing Harry’s worry to the wayside. “We could all use that. You better get going,” she added getting off his lap and holding out a hand to help him up. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” Harry said quietly as he gave her a quick hug and a kiss. “It’ll be fine,” Ginny assured him as he broke apart. Harry grinned sheepishly and then nodded before turning towards the door. He stopped once to look back and take in her encouraging smile before heading down to the basement kitchen. ---------------------------- ----------- “Should it really be taking this long?” asked Mrs. Weasley out loud as she put away the remnants of dinner and put together plates for Remus, Moody, Ron, Bill, Mr. Weasley, and Harry so they could eat when they got back from Peter Kristoff’s shop. They had been gone since late afternoon and there hadn’t been any word since. She knew that so many had gone along with Harry, not only for support, but to make sure nothing did go wrong. But despite the security and protection she knew they were providing, she couldn’t help but let her motherly worry get the best of her. “I’m sure they’re fine Molly,” Tonks offered as she brought the remaining plates to the sink to be washed. “They never said how long things like this takes.” “I know. But I just can’t help that maybe there was some sort of complication. Harry doesn’t need anything more to happen or go wrong,” Molly sighed as she enchanted the brush to scrub the plates in the sink. “He’s in good hands,” Tonks assured her. “I’m sure they’ll be back soo–” But three or four quick, sharp knocks interrupted her from the hallway above, causing both Tonks and Molly to reach for their wands. The bangs were followed by a muffled commotion from upstairs. Tonks nodded at Molly and gestured for her to follow up the stairs and into the hallway. They slowly made their way up the stone steps, flinching and pausing when the sharp raps were repeated and an indiscernible voice called out. As they entered the front entrance hall, the knocking increased in fervor and Mr. Weasley’s voice rang out clear. “Molly…If you can hear me….OPEN THE DOOR!” He shouted, sounding as though his face was pressed up against the door to be heard. “Arthur?” questioned Molly as she neared the door. “Yes Molly,” he responded. “It’s Remus, Alastor, Ron, Bill, and Harry…let us in please.” Molly looked questioningly at Tonks who still had her wand pointed at the door. Tonks finally nodded and Molly stepped forward, undoing the many locks on the door and pulling it open to reveal the group standing in the dark porch. They all filed into the dark and dank lamp lit hallway, Moody being the last one, closed the door behind them and engaged the lock system again. “Arthur I was beginning to wonder what hap--what’s wrong with him?” Molly asked as she caught sight of Harry who was wrapped in a black traveling cloak and being supported on either side by Ron and Bill. His head was lolling from side-to-side and his eyes were unfocused and darting around. It looked as though, if Ron and Bill had not been there, his unsteady legs wouldn’t have supported his weight. “He’s a bit out of it,” Ron answered, shifting Harry on his shoulder. “Well that’s obvious,” Mrs. Weasley said as she stepped forward towards Harry. “Harry dear?” she asked questioningly. Harry responded only by rolling his head in the direction of her voice. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but unintelligible noises and grunts came out of his mouth. It sounded as though he had no control over his own tongue. “It’s perfectly normal,” assured Remus. “Normal?” repeated Tonks, eyeing Remus with incredulousness. “How the bloody hell is that normal?” “He’s going to be like this for a couple of hours,” explained Remus. “His arm is connecting to his body and the receptors in his brain so he can have total control and sensation. Peter assured he’ll be back to normal once the process is finished. But before that…well he’s already starting lose some control of some of his motor skills and…well he lost the ability to talk right before we left. As the sensors work their way through his mind, he’ll be like this.” “Oh you poor thing,” Mrs. Weasley soothed as she ran a hand through his hair. Harry tried to respond, but once again was unable to form the words. “It’s alright mate,” Ron assured Harry. “You don’t have to try and do anything…we’ve got you.” “Let’s set him up in the sitting room,” Mr. Weasley offered. “That way he’ll have access to the loo and won’t have to navigate the stairs.” Ron and Bill nodded, helping Harry take a few steps, but as he started, his knees gave out. It became apparent that Harry was no longer able to walk, so Ron and Bill took him from behind the knees and lifted him, carrying him into the sitting room. They brought him into the room, laying him down on the couch. Once they had moved away, Molly moved forward, removing his shoes and then reaching for to remove the cloak that was still covering him. “Molly…no,” Mr. Weasley said quietly. “Leave it.” Molly narrowed her eyes in confusion. “Peter said we should let Harry show us,” he explained. “He’s got to get comfortable with his arm and be the one to make the first move.” “So you haven’t seen it yet?” Molly asked, straightening the cloak out and noticing that Harry’s shoulder was more filled out and the cloth of the cloak outlined the shape of the arm as it was held close to Harry’s chest as if held by a sling. Mr. Weasley shook his head. “Though before he started going loopy,” Ron interjected. “He slurred out that it was ‘bloody cool.’” “What’s going on?” came Ginny’s voice from the doorway. Everyone turned their heads to see Ginny and Hermione standing in the doorway, looking around at the group and commotion in the sitting room. “You’re back,” she added, looking around for Harry and finally spotting him laid out on the couch. She walked over and made to sit beside him, when she noticed his current state. “Harry are you ok?” she asked as she moved towards him. “He’s going to be fine Ginny,” reassured her father. He then went on to explain to his daughter that Harry’s brain was programming to his arm and he’d be ok in the morning. He told her that this process was necessary to getting as much function as possible and that he wasn’t in any pain or discomfort other than being disoriented. He also let her know that they were going to let Harry show them his arm when he was ready. Ginny smiled apprehensively and then sat down on the couch, pulling Harry’s head into her lap and stroking his hair and fringe off of his forehead. “It’s always something with you isn’t it?” she scolded lovingly, smiling down at him as he attempted to reach for her face with his left arm, as if to touch her cheek. But his arm and hand were so clumsy and uncoordinated that all he succeeded in doing was smacking her softly on her mouth and nose. “Is that what you want?” she teased, taking hold of his hand and guiding it to the side of her face. She rubbed the back of his hand affectionately as she held it in place. Harry responded by letting a quite, garbled sound escape from his lips as he opened and closed his mouth slowly. “Shhh…” Ginny eased, trying not to laugh. Ginny looked up from Harry to see everyone trying to hide their smirks from when they had been watching the young couple interact. Ginny looked away and tried to hide her embarrassment, but was quite sure that her face had turned to the color of her hair. “I made some plates from supper for you all,” Mrs. Weasley interrupted the awkward silence. “It’s warming in the kitchen when you’re ready.” “I’m famished,” blurted Ron, rubbing his stomach as though it were paining him. “Well that’s a surprise,” Hermione teased, rolling her eyes. “That sounds wonderful Molly,” Remus answered graciously. “Is…Harry…going to be eating?” Mrs. Weasley asked uncertainly as she chanced a glance over to the couch. “I think he’s pretty content where he is,” Bill joked as he gestured to Harry, nestled closely to Ginny as his head lay in her lap and she continued to caress his hand and hair. Everyone let out a small chuckle and even Ginny couldn’t suppress hers. Those who had gone along with Harry, as well as Mrs. Weasley and Tonks, headed towards the kitchen, leaving Ginny and Hermione to sit with Harry. There wasn’t much to do. Harry wasn’t in any condition to talk, or move, or do much of anything. So Hermione and Ginny talked between themselves, gossiping and talking about teenage girl thing, seemingly immune to the fact that Harry could indeed hear them even though he was unable to partake in the conversation. They stayed talking until Remus and Ron returned. “You ladies can retire upstairs,” Remus offered quietly. “It’s getting pretty late and there isn’t much to do but sit with him.” “And it looks like he might be down for the count at any second,” Ron interjected, nodding to Harry who was fighting to keep his eyes open. Ginny seemed to wrestle with her natural instinct to want to stay and sit with Harry for a second, but finally she conceded and nodded in understanding. She was a bit stressed out from worrying about him all day and as much as she enjoyed Harry’s company, her warm, four-poster bed upstairs seemed inviting. She carefully lifted Harry’s head off of her lap and stood up, gently laying him back down on the couch. She reached down and placed her lips on his, leaving them there for a second before pulling up laughing and wiping her mouth. “Well that was lovely,” she laughed. “Really Harry, I already took a shower today and didn’t need another one,” she added, wiping the remaining spit off her face with her sleeve. “I’m afraid it’s no kisses for you until you’ve regained control of your mouth.” Harry let out a snort that sounded like a laugh and everyone turned to smile at each other. “Good night sweetheart,” Ginny whispered as she kissed him again, but this time on his forehead. “Night mate,” Ron said as he awkwardly patted Harry on the shoulder. “Sweet dreams Harry…we’ll see you in the morning,” Hermione whispered as she too kissed him gently on his forehead, smiling down and winking at him as he lay there. The three reluctantly left the room, throwing another round of ‘good nights’ out before leaving Remus and Harry alone in the sitting room. Before Remus could turn to tend to Harry, he had already succumbed to the sleep that had been threatening to take him. -------------------------------- ----------- Remus lay slumped in a highly uncomfortable armchair in the darkness of the sitting room at Grimmauld Place. He snored lightly, a long-forgotten book sprawled open on his laugh as he dreamed quietly. The rest of the house seemed to imitate the quietness of the sitting room, a tell-tale sign that everyone had retired to their bedrooms to sleep or think. But that quiet silence was broken when a hoarse whisper punctuated the stillness. “Remus…” “Remus…” “L upin!” Remus’s eyes fluttered open as the sound of the voice punctuated his dreams and he looked around the darkened room, expecting to see someone from the Order. But as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scanned the darkened room he saw no one. “Over here,” the voice whispered again, causing Remus to look over towards the couch where Harry had been sleeping. Suddenly a light clicked on in his head and he stood up, striding over to the couch and reaching towards the lamp, shedding a little light on the area. “Hey,” Remus said quietly, bending down as he noticed Harry’s eyes trying to focus and finally finding Remus’s face. “I see you’ve got your voice back,” Remus smiled down and slid Harry’s glasses onto his face. “Yeah…” Harry rasped quietly. “But now I can’t move.” Remus nodded in understanding, noticing that the only thing that was moving was Harry’s mouth and eyes. “Peter said you’d experience some paralysis as the sensors and transmitters reached the motor parts of your brain,” Remus sighed. “I know…but that doesn’t make any less awkward…or annoying,” Harry mumbled. “Yeah…but this means that it shouldn’t be too much longer now. You’ll be up and about in the morning,” Remus tried to comfort Harry. He knew Harry had gone in knowing what was going to happen during the process, but not being able to move wasn’t a pleasant thing to deal with. “Do you need anything?” “A drink of water,” Harry answered. “And could you sit me up for a bit?” Harry asked reluctantly. “Sure kid,” Remus replied softly. “Here we go,” he said as he slid his hands underneath Harry’s back and hoisted his slack and limp body up into a sitting position, carefully maneuvering his legs and torso so he was sitting upright, his head resting on the back of the couch. “Thanks,” Harry whispered as Remus conjured a glass of water with a straw and held it up so Harry could sip slowly on it. Remus placed the glass on the table beside the couch and sat down next to Harry; supporting his left side and making sure he didn’t lean or fall over. “So what do you think?” Harry questioned. “Huh?” Remus blurted. “My arm…what do you think?” Harry asked, looking at Remus from the corner of his eye and swallowing hard. “I actually haven’t seen it,” Remus responded. “We were kind of waiting until you came around.” “You mean no one took a peek or tried to poke at me yet?” Harry inquired, sounding highly amused. “No…” Remus chuckled. “Not that they didn’t want to…I was actually surprised that the twins didn’t try anything…” Harry laughed a bit. “Well…would you like to take a look?” Harry questioned, throwing another side-long glance from the corner of his eye. “Are you sure?” Remus replied, a bit nervous sounding. “Go on…” Harry urged. “It’s really sort of…cool.” Remus smiled at Harry’s adolescent sounding description. As much as he had gone through and even though he had been forced to grow up quickly, Harry still never had much trouble acting his age. “It’s alright…really,” Harry assured Remus. Remus nodded and threw Harry a smile, taking a deep breath before reaching towards the fastening to the cloak that was still draped around him, covering most of his body and his arm. He pulled the dark cloth off of Harry’s shoulders, lifting him from the back of the couch slightly so he could remove the cloak completely. As he pulled it around Harry’s unresponsive body, the black material fell off of his right shoulder, causing Remus’s eyes to widen and Harry to chuckle as he watched Remus’s reaction. “Neat…huh?” Harry questioned, smiling slightly from his limited seating position. “It’s…amazing,” Remus stuttered, trying to find the right word to describe the sleek metallic-looking limb that extended from Harry’s t-shirt sleeve and was held close to his chest in a sling. The forearm and hand that were visible and not hidden in his sleeve were made of a shiny, dark silver metal. The inner workings of the arm that simulated muscles were visible between the outer metal framework, as well as were the gold spindle fibers that were connecting to Harry’s brain. The forearm connected to a long and slender hand that simulated the size and shape of Harry’s real one. But this one was made entirely of that same smoky metal material. The joints that connected the sections and segments of finger and hand framework were made of a gold metal material. As weird as it was to think that this metal thing was attached to Harry and it would substitute as a working replacement for his arm, Remus couldn’t help be in total awe of the intricate workings and the technology that was in front of him. Instinctively Remus reached out to touch the smooth and shiny metal of Harry’s hand but pulled back at the first contact. The hand was cold and hard to his touch and it had thrown him off with its unnaturalness. “It’s ok,” Harry reassured him, still propped up against the back of the couch with his head laid back. Remus hesitated, but then reached forward and ran his finger along one of Harry’s. “Can you feel this?” he asked, still intrigued as he took in the complexity of the arm. “Sort of…I can feel that you’re squeezing my finger tips,” Harry said, staring at the ceiling and concentrating hard. Remus eyes widened, realizing that he had a soft grip on Harry’s fingers at the moment and there was no way that Harry could see him from his current position. “That is so fascinating,” Remus breathed out loud. “It’s weird…to be able to feel something there again,” Harry swallowed. Remus looked up, noticing Harry’s amused and light tone was replaced by a more somber one. “Are you okay…really?” Remus asked, sitting up so Harry could see him. “This isn’t too much?” “No…” Harry replied quickly. “It’s…well…it’s great actually. But…” He paused, closing his eyes in concentration or perhaps against another spell of disorientation and fuzziness. “It just feels strange to have this happening to me,” Harry finally replied. “It’s a new step…another scary step.” “I understand how this can all seem bizarre. You’ve adapted so well to living without your arm that it seems unusual to have this thing on your shoulder,” Remus said. “But I just want you to know that you’re doing so well with all this. Everything went well and we all are really proud of how you’ve handled everything so graciously.” “I wish I could move though,” Harry mumbled, the playful tone back in his voice. “It’ll only be a little while longer,” Remus assured him. “Yeah…” Harry breathed. “What time is it?” “A little after four in the morning,” Remus answered, stifling a yawn that had suddenly manifested itself. “I’ve been out for a while?” Harry questioned and Remus nodded. “Why don’t you go get some sleep?” Harry added. “I fell asleep a while ago,” Remus replied. “In a chair,” Harry pointed out. “Go find a bed and get some sleep. I’ll be fine.” “It’s really no problem,” Remus assured him. “Go…” Harry ordered. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” “If you insist,” Remus finally conceded after Harry furrowed his brows in mock irritation and tried to look over in Remus’s direction. “Do you need anything before I go?” “Another sip of water would be great,” Harry responded. “And if you could lay me back down…I could try and get a few more hours of sleep.” “Sure thing,” Remus replied, reaching for the glass and helping Harry take a drink through the straw. After Harry’s thirst was satisfied, Remus set the glass on the table and repositioned Harry so that he was lying down. He took a blanket from the back of the couch and placed it under Harry’s head for a pillow and then draped another over his body, covering him back up again. He then removed Harry’s glasses and placed them on the table next to the water. “Alright…I’m off,” Remus stated. “Remember…if you need anything, just–” “I’ll yell real loud,” Harry interrupted, with a giant smirk. “Smart alec,” Remus teased. “G’night Harry,” he added, turning off the bedside lamp and moving towards the door. A/N: Alright! Harry’s got his arm. I know you’ve all been waiting very patiently for that. I know my description probably isn’t the best. It’s hard to describe a magic, mechanical arm. But (some of you referenced Anakin Skywalker’s arm in Star Wars and I actually used pics from the movies to base it off of. There are links below that show pictures of what I think Harry’s arm might look like. But keep in mind his goes to his shoulder. http://www.aptirrelevance.c om/sw-archive/images/01187.jpg and http://www.darth-sonic.de/images/news/a nakin_arm.jpg |
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