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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: 501549; Chapter Total: 15873 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: No Copyright infringement is intended. Jk Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe....I just play in it. I know I churned this chapter out super-fast. But I had a lot of time to write today and wanted to give you what I had worked on. I hope the quickness didn't hurt the quality, because I really enjoyed writing it. |
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Chapter 9: Bright Eyes “It’s been four days since Madam Pomfrey first gave him the potions. Shouldn’t he be awake?” whispered Ron as he stared at Harry sleeping on the bed before him. He had spent the past few days sitting with Harry, leaving to eat and take short naps or check on Hermione and Ginny when they weren’t there with him. “He’s been through a lot Ron. His body needs time to recover....be patient. If he was still with the Muggles, he’d still be on all those machines. He’ll come around....” assured Hermione as she looked up from the book she had been reading as she curled up in a high-backed armchair that had pulled beside the bed. “Yeah....I know. But there’s still a chance that....well you know....” Ron said quietly. “It has always been a possibility, even before what happened on the ambulance. No one’s sure of his mental situation and he hasn’t been conscious enough for Madam Pomfrey to evaluate it. She doesn’t seem too worried right now....and maybe we shouldn’t either,” Hermione told him, closing her book and leaning forward to glance between her boyfriend and the inert figure of her best friend. “How can I not worry Hermione?” Ron snapped his voice full of frustration. “Look at him....look at him and tell me he doesn’t...” “Shhh....keep your voice down. We don’t know if he can hear us or not......” Hermione hushed him in a low, harsh whisper, looking sadly at Harry again. “If he could...don’t you think he would have tried to let us know....give us a sign or move or something....?” Ron cried in a quiet, yet exasperated sounding voice. Hermione was about to open her mouth when the door to the sitting room swung open and Mrs. Weasley and Madam Pomfrey walked in, the latter carrying a tray with bottles of potion. “Has there been anything.....?” Mrs. Weasley asked quietly, starting to ask if Harry had moved or did anything while they were away. “No,” answered Ron curtly. “Nothing to indicate he’s in pain. Nothing to indicate that he....well nothing to indicate anything’s happening at all.” Madam Pomfrey set the tray down on a table that had been brought in and set beside the bed and she picked up a small green vile and uncorked it. “Mr. Weasley,” she said addressing Ron, “could you lift his head up for me?” Ron got up from his chair and stood beside the head of the bed, gently sliding his arm underneath Harry’s bandaged head as he had the last few times they had given him his potions. Harry’s head felt oddly heavy as Ron supported the dead and unconscious weight of it and slowly lifted Harry’s shoulders, neck and head to a partial-sitting position trying his hardest not to hurt him in any way. “Here we go mate,” he breathed softly as he stabilized his friend’s head and tipped it back for the matron. Madam Pomfrey brought the first of the six or seven bottles to Harry’s lips and poured them slowly in, dabbing at the sides of his mouth with her handkerchief as any excess dribbled down his chin. After each vile, she placed her wand on his Adam’s apple to trigger his swallowing response and the liquid would slide down his throat with only the softest of gurling noise. She had just taken the last vile from his lips when he let out a soft cough, causing the contents to spill from his mouth and down his front. Madam Pomfrey moved to wipe it off of him, when he let out another, louder cough. She looked up to see his eyelids fluttering slowly, as if trying to open them to look at them all and what was going on. “Harry?” she asked softly. His lids stopped fluttering and his eyes remained partially opened, the lower part of the brilliant green iris’s peeking out from beneath the lashes. “Harry? Can you hear me dear?” she asked, waving her hand in front of his line of vision.His eyes did not follow the movement of her hand but his lashes flickered slightly as his eyes threatened to close again. “Come on Harry....just let us know you’re there mate,” Ron encouraged him softly, peering intently into half-opened, distant looking green orbs. “Mmmm...” A small grunt escaped Harry’s lips and everyone held their breath and waited for him to make another sound or try to communicate with them. But Harry’s eyes closed slowly, and it looked as though he had slipped back into his silent slumber again. “Come on Harry....open you’re eyes again for us. Show us those beautiful eyes of yours,” Mrs. Weasley croaked in a raspy and pleading voice. His eyes flickered again, as though threatening to open at minute, but did not. They all waited in silence, watching him carefully for the next minute as he lay still in Ron’s arms, but he remained unmoving. Sighing in defeat Madam Pomfrey picked up another vile of the last potion and held it to his lips, this time getting it to go down without trouble. After the potion had been administered, Ron lay Harry’s head and shoulders back down against the white sheets and stepped back from the bed, carefully eyeing the matron who was busying herself with the empty vials and tray. “So what did that mean?” he asked sharply, causing everyone to turn and look at him. “Excuse me?” asked the matron as she turned to face Ron. “What just happened.....what does that tell us?” he asked shortly again. “It could mean that he’s close to waking up and coming around or.....” Madam Pomfrey answered in a measured voice. Ron cut across her. “OR......it could mean that his head’s been damaged and he’s never going to come back to us....right?” he answered for her in a rather accusatory tone. “Ronald,” barked Mrs. Weasley sharply, but Madam Pomfrey held up a hand to stop her. “No Molly....he’s right. I can’t tell you when he’s going to wake up or if when he does if he’ll ever be the same. He could wake up in an hour or a week or never...” Madam Pomfrey cried in a wavering voice. “I just don’t know.” Ron looked sadly at the matron and suddenly he felt horrible for being short with her. She had been there to save Harry’s life on the ambulance and she had stayed with him, caring for him the entire time he had been at Grimmauld Place. But Ron was just so frustrated at the lack of progress that Harry was making....sure he wasn’t screaming bloody murder from pain.....but he wasn’t making an effort to wake up either. Ron was beginning to worry that he wasn’t ever going to talk to or have his best friend back again. He was afraid that sooner or later he and Hermione would have to discuss and argue about revealing the prophecy to the others because of Harry’s current state. Things were just so up in the air at the moment that Ron didn’t know what to do or how to feel and it was all beginning to wear him out. He sighed deeply at the sight of his sleeping friend and laid a weary hand on his left shoulder. “Wake up soon mate.....we need you....I need you,” he whispered softly. ---------------------------------------- --------------------------------- Ginny brushed her fingers through her recently-showered, damp red hair to get any tangles out as she walked down the stairs that led to the front hall. She had woken up about an hour earlier after a much needed morning of sleep to find it nearly past noon. She had spent most of last night sitting with Harry and whoever else was in the room, watching him, reading a book, or just daydreaming about nothing at all. She had finally been persuaded by her father to get some sleep at about two o’clock that morning and he had taken up her position in the chair near Harry’s bed. Now showered and in a new set of clothes, her body felt refreshed, but the heavy weight that had been on her chest since the day Harry had gone missing, remained. Harry still had not woken up, though he had flitted into consciousness three nights ago when Ron and Madam Pomfrey were giving him his dose of pain potion and healing draughts. He had not moved or made any visible sign that he was close to rejoining the world of the living. She, along with everyone else, was beginning to worry that he might never wake and all of their efforts to save him would end up being for nothing. But she could not think about that....she had to keep telling herself that he’d get better and come back.....it was all she had to keep her going. “Ooof,” came a voice as Ginny bumped into something and she found herself face to face with someone who had just emerged from the stone steps that led to the kitchen. “Sorry Mum,” she said as she looked apologetically at her mother, who she had just ran into. She was carrying a round basin filled with water and had various washcloths and towels draped over her shoulder. “That’s alright Gin.....,” her mother replied, casting her an understanding smile and hefting the basin to get a better grip of it. “What’s that for?” Ginny asked, holding her hands under the metal tub to help her mother support it. “For Harry.” she stated simply. “I just thought I’d wash him up a bit.....he hasn’t had a proper bath since before....” “He’s awake?” Ginny asked excitedly. But her mother shook her head and dashed her daughter’s hopes. “No. But Madam Pomfrey thinks it might do him some good if we clean him up a bit.....touch and talk to him....you know...let him know we’re here,” she told Ginny sadly. “I could help you if you need it,” Ginny offered, taking one side of the heavy tub away from her mother. Molly looked reluctantly at her daughter and then smiled. “I could use another pair of hands to help roll him and hold him up for me,” Molly told Ginny. The two women hefted the tub of water between them and made their way into the sitting that the gurney had been set up. They found Mr. Weasley still sitting beside the bed, reading a memo from his office. “Need help Molly?” he offered, standing up and moving towards the girls. “No dear....we’ve got it. Why don’t you go rest.....Gin and I’ll take care of him for a while now,” she replied, guiding Ginny towards a table and gesturing for her to set down her end of the tub. Arthur yawned deeply and nodded to his wife in defeat. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he breathed, stifling another yawn. “Or maybe I’ll go get a cup of coffee from the kitchen. Anyone else up?” “Yes...Ron, Hermione and Remus were earlier. But they went to Privet Drive to see if they couldn’t collect Harry’s things and bring them here. They should be back within an hour or so....so go upstairs and rest Arthur,” she said in a very motherly tone. “Right....” conceded Arthur as he packed up his papers he had been looking at and headed out the door. Molly leaned over the basin of warm water, dipping two clothes into it and slowly ringing the excess water out of them. She walked back over to the bid where Ginny was sitting, watching the sleeping boy, and laid the dry clothes that had been across her shoulder, at the foot of the bed. “Here Gin,” she whispered softly, handing her daughter one of the damp clothes. Ginny took the cloth from her mother obediently and turned to Harry. “Just run it across his skin enough to wet it and get that layer of dirt and sweat off. When he wakes up we can get him to clean up better....but this’ll do for now.” Ginny gently picked up his left arm and began to run the washcloth along the length of it, washing away the layer of salt and dirt that had accumulated from the accident and from the first night Harry had sweated and writhed in agony at Grimmauld Place. She took care, washing gently between each of his long fingers as the water took away the dirt and dried blood. She was repulsed a bit at the blood and filth that had accumulated under his fingernails, but did her best to clean them. She watched as her mother ran the wet cloth over his stomach and chest, his stomach muscles twitching slightly as the wet rag brushed against him.. She stopped when she got to the sheet that covered him from the waist down and pulled it back to just above where his hips started and the line where his stomach muscles ended. With the sheet pulled back farther, Ginny could see the large scar that ran down the length of his abdomen went much lower than she previously thought it did. For a fleeting moment she caught herself thinking that Harry had been very lucky indeed that it had not went any farther down. “I don’t think Harry’d appreciate it if we went any lower,” her mother laughed softly as she looked up at her daughter and caught her staring. Ginny smiled back and went back to wiping him down, this time moving to his bruised face and wiping away the dried blood and potion remnants from his chin and mouth. She laughed as she ran the washcloth against the scratchy week’s worth stubble that he now had. She could only remember one time where she had seen Harry without his face completely smooth. It had never occurred to her that her sixteen year old, fresh-faced boyfriend needed to shave. But one morning he had come down to breakfast, entering the Great Hall looking very tired and kissed her. She had been surprised to find that his normally smooth face was scratchy as she pulled away and brushed his cheek. “You need to shave,” she had blurted out, as she planted another good-morning kiss on him. His hand had automatically gone to his face, where he ran it over his cheeks and mouth. “Guess I forgot.....does it bother you?” he had asked quietly, blushing uncomfortably. “You sort of look like you’ve got dirt on your face and it is a bit scratchy,” she had replied, laughing a bit. “Oh,” was all he could say as he ate his breakfast quickly and then murmured something about ‘forgetting my potions book’ before running off. Next time she had seen him, he looked fresher and his face was smooth when he kissed her as he led her to her Transfiguration class. She had also found out from Hermione that Harry had been late for Potions that morning. It brought a smile to her face when she realized that Harry had went back to the dormitory to shave and made himself late for Potions....just for her. As she washed his face and ran the cloth over the black stubble, she thought now that it was grown out, it actually didn’t look too bad on him. It made him look older though, much more like a grown man than the boy of nearly seventeen that she remembered. As if reading her thoughts her mother spoke. “We’ll have one of you’re brothers or the other men here shave him later,” she said as she rang out the wash cloth in the basin, causing the water to turn a murky brownish-red color. “It’s not bad on him....but he’s much more handsome clean-shaven.” Ginny nodded and continued to gently scrub away the dried dirt around his brow line. She stopped briefly to take in his lightening bolt scar, tracing it with the damp cloth lightly, as she washed his forehead just below that bandage. “Mum,” she said softly. “Do you think we could take off the bandage so I can get a bit more of his head and face?” “I don’t see why not. Madam Pomfrey healed everything up,” Molly said as she replaced her cloth in the tub of water and moved to the head of the bed. “Do you think we could sit him up a bit? I can hold him up and finish his head and you could try and get to some of his back?” Ginny suggested. “Unless it’s not safe,” she added when her mother pondered it for a bit. “Let’s try it,” her mother answered after a few seconds deliberation. Ginny sat down on the edge of the bed next to Harry, noting that this was the closest she had been to him since before Dumbledore’s funeral. She gently put her arm underneath his upper back, waiting for her mother to come around behind and hold his head. With their combined efforts, they raised him to a sitting position and scooted him over so that his head and left shoulder were leaning against Ginny’s right. She slid her right arm across his back for support. His exposed back was pleasantly warm against the bare skin of her arm as she held him there. “Can you hold him up like that?” her mother questioned once they had got him up. Ginny nodded her head. He was much lighter than she thought he would be and she figured she could hold him propped up like this for a while. “Ok....let’s get that bandage off.” Ginny watched as her mother found the end of the gauze and began to carefully unbind Harry’s head. As the layers of thin gauze were pulled away, Ginny, expecting to see his unruly black locks fall from within, was shocked to see only a thin growth of course black hair covering his pale scalp. What was more; there was a large scar across one side of his head that was stark white against the layer of black hair. “Ginny? Are you okay?” her mother asked, looking at her with concern in her face. “Yeah...” Ginny replied breathlessly. “I just....I just didn’t realize they did that to him.” She shook her head and added. “I’m fine.” “It’ll grow back dear and that scar’ll be covered up by that unruly mop of his,” Molly said in the most assured and lighthearted voice she could manage. Ginny nodded her head again and went about cleaning behind his ears and carefully running the cloth along the top of his head, while her mother began to wipe down his back and shoulders, careful to mind his right side. When Ginny had finished, she glanced over her shoulder and Harry’s head to see how her mother was coming when she felt Harry’s head shift a bit on her shoulder. She leaned forward to see if perhaps they had moved him in a manner to cause him pain. She couldn’t see his face clearly, so she took her left hand brought it up to his chin, tilting his head toward her. Ginny was shocked to find that his bright emerald eyes were open and looking sleepily at her as she tilted his head towards her with her fingers. She didn’t know what to do. She thought perhaps he had just flitted back to consciousness for a few seconds and would soon slide back under when he closed his eyes. But they fluttered back open sleepily, fighting for focus and then found her again. “Hey....” she whispered breathlessly. Harry blinked his eyes in response as he fought to shake off his tiredness and fatigue. “Well, hello there bright eyes. Finally awake are we?” she whispered, smiling at him. The corner of his mouth curled up as though he had tried to smile at her. His eyes dropped their gaze from her face and she could see that he seemed to be thinking, taking in his surroundings, and trying to get accustomed to his newly returned consciousness. “Mum....” Ginny whispered, looking back at her mother anxiously. Molly Weasley looked up from where she was carefully and gently cleaning his lower back and looked at her daughter questioningly. Ginny gestured down at Harry with her eyes and head and motioned with her free hand to come around to the side of the bed. Molly put down the rag she had been using and slowly walked to the moved to the opposite side of the bed, an apprehensive and worried look on her face. But as she came around so that she could see Harry’s face, a small smile played on her lips and tears started to form in the corner of her eyes as she caught sight of his opened eyes. As Harry’s eyes caught the movement of Mrs. Weasley appearing on his bedside, they slid over towards her direction, his head lolling slightly to the right to see who it was. His eyes, still unfocused and full of tiredness, wandered over Mrs. Weasley’s figure as if trying to figure out who it was, and then a smile similar to the one he had given Ginny played across the corner of his mouth. “Harry?” Mrs. Weasley whispered in a voice filled with emotion. “Can you understand us? Can you hear me?” She had to check. She had been in the room the last time he had appeared to come about and wasn’t so sure that this wasn’t the same sort of thing. She also wasn’t sure that he would be fully aware and able to understand them even if he did wake up for real. “Y-y-eah....” he breathed quietly. His voice was hoarse from the breathing tube and raw from screaming and it was barely audible. As he spoke, he drew in deep breaths and gulps, trying to get the words out of his protesting mouth and tired mind and body. Both Ginny and Mrs. Weasley let out relieved sounding laughs and cries at the sound of his ragged voice. “Wh....wha...what....what’re yo-ou...do-oing....?” he asked shaking the sleep from his eyes and again forcing himself to talk through labored breaths. “Washing you up a bit dear,” Mrs. Weasley replied through tears and a smile. She took the wet cloth and rubbed it against his cheek so he’d know what she meant. She then eyed him with a look of concern. “Are we hurting you? We can stop if you want us...” she asked him quickly, a tone of horror evident in voice at the thought that they were doing something to make him be in any sort of pain. “N..n..n-o,” he answered quickly. “N-o.....pa..pain. Fi--in..ish...ple..ease....” “Alright dear....I don’t have to much more to do,” choked Mrs. Weasley, dipping her cloth back into the water and ringing it out. Molly resumed her careful watching of his back and shoulders and Harry let his head lean limp against Ginny’s shoulder. She could feel him breathing raggedly and deeply against her and she could see his eyes, light from the lamp reflecting off of them, as they looked dejectedly down, every once in a while blinking to keep the grogginess and confusion out of them. When Mrs. Weasley ran her rag softly against his right shoulder where his arm had been amputated, Ginny could feel his body tense slightly as the cloth touched and his eyes darted in that direction. Molly must have noticed his unease also, because she lifted the rag and leaned toward him. “Harry if that hurts or makes you uncomfortable.....do you want me to stop?” she asked quietly and uncertainly. He shook his head slightly on Ginny’s shoulder. “N..n-o. I’s....o-k” he croaked hoarsely quietly, closing his eyes and breathing in heavily again and shuddering as he exhaled. Molly and gave each other anxious looks. Ginny nodded for her mother to continue and Molly swallowed before running her wet rag across the area a few more times. She then threw the cloth into the water basin and started to dry him off with a dry towel. When she was finished carefully drying him off, she put the towels down and leaned close to him, speaking softy so not to startle him. “Harry dear…we’re going to lay you back down ok? Then I’ll call Madam Pomfrey. I’m sure she’ll want to check you over now that you’re awake again.” Harry looked slowly over at her as if taking care to understand her words completely. “K…” he replied softly as he sighed and returned his gaze to the bed, his eyes a looking a little glazed and lost. “Here we go,” Molly whispered as she helped support Harry’s back and allowed Ginny to slide her arm out from behind him. They gently lowered him down back onto the bed, pausing to gently lay his head against the pillow. “I’ll be back in a bit….” Molly said, smiling down at Harry and placing a kiss on his forehead. “Stay with him Gin,” she whispered softly in her daughter’s ear as she placed a hand on her face in a loving gesture and then turned to leave the room and call the matron back from Hogwarts in the fire. Gin watched her mother walk from the room and then turned back to the bed. Harry was lying there with his eyes still open, but he was looking uneasily around the room as if not sure where to look or what to do. He certainly didn’t look comfortable and Ginny wasn’t sure if it was because she was the one here with him or if he just was still in a shocked daze due to the fact that he was now awake and fully aware of his surroundings and the magnitude of his injuries. Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but closed it when she found herself about to ask him “Are you alright?” Of course he wasn’t alright. He’d almost died, he’d spent the better part of a week in a coma-like state, and now that he was awake he had to deal with the loss of his arm and the long recovery he still had ahead of him. Asking him if he was alright after all that wasn’t exactly the right thing to ask. “Are you comfortable?” she asked instead, pulling the sheets up to chest height. “Is this alright?” “Mmmhhhmm” he mumbled, while flinching a bit as she pulled the covers over him. “Sorry,” she blurted out as she felt him twitch at her sudden movement. She sat down again on the chair beside his bed, laying her arm on the side of the bed. She felt his hand move in a fumbling and shaking manor over hers and she looked up at his face, thinking that something was wrong and he was trying to get her attention. “Thank you,” he mouthed, his eyes locked on her again. He left his hand where it was, but turned his head so that he was staring up at the ceiling. Ginny watched as he struggle once more to keep his eyes open. She watched on as his eyes repeatedly closed and then shot open as he realized that he had been drifting off. “You can go to sleep you know,” she chuckled, turning her hand over so it was enclosed in his. “Pomfrey…?” he gasped with an air of questioning. “She can wait for you to wake up next time to poke and prod you again. You can drift off again and I’ll cover for you,” she teased him. A small smile drifted across his tired face and he closed his eyes again. “K…” he repeated breathlessly. Not five minutes later a very excited looking Madam Pomfrey made her way into the sitting room with Molly Weasley, Hermione, Ron, and Remus Lupin in tow. They all bustled over to the bedside, but Ginny put a finger to her lip to signal them to quiet down. “He’s just fallen asleep again,” she whispered in a voice barely audible. Ron and Hermione looked crestfallen and severely disappointed that they had just missed their opportunity to talk to their best friend and that they had not been there when he had woken. “He’ll be up again,” she assured them. “He tried to stay awake……it was quite funny actually. But I think we should let him rest so maybe he’ll be up a bit longer next time.” “If he was awake it might be best if I check him out now to catch any problems,” Madam Pomfrey reasoned. But Ginny shook her head as the Matron moved to Harry’s side and looked as though she wanted to prod him to awake. “No. He’s going to be alright once he heals,” she said glancing over at her mother. “He was responsive and alert….just weak and tired when he woke. There’s nothing to worry about now…..plus….I promised him I’d save him from everyone fussing over him and wanting to look him over right now,” she added smiling. “Ginny’s right,” Remus relented, even though he wanted to see and speak to Harry as much as the others. “Let him sleep. We can set up some of his things we brought from Privet Drive so he can see them when he wakes again.” “Sure,” added Ron as he took hold of Hermione’s arm. “Let’s go get his trunk Hermione.” “Ginny dear, you missed breakfast,” Molly said. “Let’s go fix some lunch in the kitchen.” “Go ahead Ginny, we’ll stay with him for now,” Remus smiled at her. Ginny took one last look at Harry sleeping soundly on the bed, she noted his face was much more peaceful now that he was awake, and followed her mother out of the kitchen. ---------------------------- ---------------------------------- Harr y opened his eyes slowly, the blurry vision of the white ceiling blinking in and out as he struggled to keep his eyes open. For a moment he didn’t know where he was. He remembered being in a hospital, but the ceiling had been grayish there and he hadn’t been to feel his body or move. He could feel a dull pain in his gut, so he didn’t think it was the hospital. Images of his friend’s faces and flashes of phantom pains clouded his mind. The words ‘ambulance’ and ‘heart’ seemed to jump to his thoughts. Ginny’s face swam in front of his vision and he suddenly remembered that he had woken up before this. He’d been shocked to find he was sitting up, after waking up one time prior to that in excruciating pain, and had had Ginny and Mrs. Weasley holding him in the sitting room of Grimmauld Place. It had been the first time that his thinking and consciousness wasn’t clouded with blackness or pain. Although he had found himself quite unable to control his movements, he had been completely and blissfully numb to pain. He flexed the fingers on his left hand and tried to shift a little. His movement was immediately met by a sharp pain shooting up his entire right side. He let a sharp hiss of pain escape his lips. Whatever had blinded his pain the last time he woke was definitely wearing off and he could feel a dull throbbing pain throughout most of his body. “Harry?” a voice from the right side of his bed called. He turned his head toward the sound to find the blurry outline of Remus Lupin looking very concernedly down at him. “Are you in any pain?” he asked, his eyes studying Harry closely. Harry struggled to find his voice. He remembered the last time he had woke how difficult it had been to breathe, much less talk. “Y…ye….s” he forced out as a dull stab of pain darted across his chest and he closed his eyes against it. “How long’s it been since his last potions?” Harry heard Remus ask someone else in the room who he hadn’t known was there. “This morning I think,” replied a voice that sounded like Charlie or Bill. “I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey, she’s down in the kitchen with Ginny.” Harry felt someone get up from beside the bed and walk quickly out the door. “Just try to breathe Harry,” Remus told him. “Once we get you to take you’re potions….it won’t be so bad.” Harry nodded as much as he could, letting go a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and wished silently that Madam Pomfrey would hurry up. Returning footsteps could be heard outside the door and the soft clink of the wooden door being swung open relieved Harry a bit. “So Mister Potter….I hear that you’re awake and in a bit of pain do I?” asked the matron smiling down at him. “A….b-i…it…” he choked out. “I believe I can do something to relieve it…..if you’ll stay awake long enough to let me check you out,” she replied, implying that falling asleep again wasn’t going to stop her from poking and prodding him this time. “K….” he sighed. “Charlie if you could just sit him up a bit,” Madam Pomfrey gestured to the red-head that Harry had not known the identity of before. “Sure,” Charlie replied. Harry felt warm hands slide across his back of his head and shoulders and a slight wave of dizziness washed over him as he was gently lifted to a near-sitting position. “Alright Harry?” Charlie asked in a brotherly tone, noticing that Harry had closed his eyes when he had been lifted. Harry opened his eyes and saw Charlie’s slightly worried face bent close to his. “Mmmmm” was all Harry could muster against the discomfort he was now feeling in this sitting position. It felt like he had a very heavy weight sitting on across his chest and stomach. And it seemed as though he could feel all of his internal organs in his abdomen and they were currently pushing up on his ribs and stomach muscles uncomfortably. “Let’s see if you can swallow on your own this time,” Madam Pomfrey said quietly. “If not we can help you a bit.” She fiddled with a tiny vial filled with a red liquid and held it to his lips as he felt Charlie’s hand move to support his head more firmly. Normally having everyone hold him and prop him up would embarrass and make him uncomfortable, but he was too tired, too weak, in too much pain at the moment to care. In his sitting position he could see Remus and Mr. Weasley watching anxiously from the foot of his bed. He was a bit self-conscious and annoyed at their stares, but shook the feeling away when he remembered Madam Pomfrey was about to relieve his discomort. He felt the cool liquid hit his tongue and slide down the back of his throat. He coughed slightly as it filled his mouth and he struggled to breathe at the same time. He felt the cool potion trickle down his chin and he closed his eyes in embarrassment. “It’s alright…..I’ll help you get them down this time and we can try again the next time,” Madam Pomfrey told him bracingly. Harry felt more potion being poured into his mouth and then felt a soft pressure on his neck around his Adam’s apple and he swallowed instinctively. Madam Pomfrey repeated this with the next half-dozen potions and then instructed Charlie to lay him back down. As Harry’s head hit the soft pillows again, his pain had subsided and he felt quite numb and blissful….almost as if he was floating. “Harry….” Madam Pomfrey said softly, leaning over him. “I need to do some tests and check some things out on you now that you’re awake. Everything seems fine….but you were unconscious and you’re brain did go without oxygen. I just need to make sure that everything is working properly and you’re alright.” Harry’s stomach clenched with that familiar feeling of worry. He remembered waking up in the Emergency Room hearing the doctors talking about him as if he had brain damage. He had been so afraid when he found he could hear them….but not make his presence known. And here it was again. Madam Pomfrey was worried that he was mentally handi-capped or not all there. He didn’t feel as though he was missing any vital parts of his mental existence, but there was a doubt and unsure feeling in his stomach that wouldn’t go away. Madam Pomfrey shined the light of her wand in his eyes, muttering the same sentiments that the Muggle doctor had said to a nurse in the ER “pupil’s equal and reactive.” She then proceeded to poke him in the feet and make him move them against her hands. She had made him squeeze his left hand as hard as he could around hers to check for any left-sided weakness. He wondered to himself how she was going to check for right-sided weakness when he had no right hand anymore. After she had poked and manhandled him to her satisfaction, she again turned to address him. “Harry I need to check some of your memory and learning skills so I need to ask you some questions. I know it hurts to talk….but do your best.” “I need you to remember these three words ‘rose’…..’Fish’…..’Snitch’ ok? I’m going to ask you to repeat these words from time to time and I want you to remember.” She then proceeded to ask him to tell her his full name, date of birth, address. She then made him count backward from ten and then tell her how many fingers she was holding up. At any random time she would ask for the words she asked him to remember and Harry repeated them without problem. “Everything is in order Harry,” she assured him. “I’ll send for Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger….they’re anxious to see you awake.” Two minutes later the door burst open and the freckled face of Ron Weasley swam into Harry’s vision. “Bout time mate….you left me alone to take care of a bunch of crying girls. That’s your area of expertise” he scolded, watching Harry in amazement. “It’s good to see you awake Harry,” cried Hermione through tears, she made to wrap him in a hug, but stopped short when she remembered how injured he still was. She seemed afraid to touch him and it hurt Harry a bit to think he made her react that way. “I’s….o-k…H-er...mi..one…” he breathed, extending his arm towards her. She reluctantly let him put it around her back and pull her into a light hug, not getting to close to his body. Hermione backed away and smiled happily down at him, tears of joy and relief in her eye. His two best friends sat down at his bedside, silently contemplating what do say or do now. He decided to break the silence and awkwardness. “H-ow….bo-ut….yo…u…tell- me,” he paused to take a breathe and gather himself, “wh-at….be-een….hap-en….ing…whi-le….i’s go-one.” ---------------------------- --------------------------------------- Harry spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in the company of Ron and Hermione. They filled him in on what had been happening since he had gone missing more than a week ago, and Harry just sat there, silently listening to their voices, thankful that he was able to hear them again and be with them. But as much as Harry enjoyed being there with his friends again, he was a bit uneasy and uncomfortable to be sitting there with his battered chest and torso still visible to everyone. He would catch either Ron or Hermione looking him over when they were not talking, and then quickly glance away when they saw he had noticed. “I…m….co-old…” he whispered, interrupting Ron finally. Hermione got up quickly to pull the sheets up over him and up to his chin, covering his body up completely. He wasn’t cold at all, but at least now he didn’t have to catch them staring at him. He knew that they weren’t doing it on purpose. They were shocked; they were a bit scared and had good reason to be. He was scared and had tried not to look at himself as he lay there. He hadn’t glanced or caught sight of his shoulder yet….he knew it was gone and didn’t need visible confirmation. He’d only been awake a little while and already he could sense the difference, tell that something was off. A few times he’d absentmindedly went to scratch his nose or rub his tired eyes, as he listened to his friends, to find his shoulder muscles moving involuntarily and automatically as if trying to raise an arm that was no longer there. Instead he had to consciously take his tired and sore left arm and scratch the itch or rub his eyes awkwardly. He tried to listen to Ron and Hermione, but thoughts like ‘How are you supposed to wave you’re wand?’ or ‘What about writing?’ would cross his mind and he’d have to try and force himself not to think about it too much. He was going to concentrate on getting better and stronger. He’d have to build up his endurance in his lungs so he could breathe easier. He was so weak from lying in bed for over a week and his organs and chest would have to heal before he could get up and move around much. He had a long way to go to getting anywhere near the way he was before physically, though he had to admit….he’d never quite be or look the same. He knew sometime soon he would have to face the challenges that he now had living and surviving with one arm, both physical and mental. Also somewhere in the back of his mind, the ever present prophecy and subject of his destiny entwined with Lord Voldemort would enter his mind….but he tried to push those thoughts and worries away for later. He had quite enough to worry about right now. |
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