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Stunned | ||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst, General, Romance, Tragedy Warnings: Disturbing Imagery Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 7 Summary: Harry faces his toughest test since Voldemort after Ginny sustains an injury playing Quidditch Hitcount: Story Total: 4006 Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work. Author's Notes: The first follow up to Summer of Healing. You don't need to read that, but if you did, you'll know how this is going to turn out! |
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As he regained consciousness, he became aware of a dull tingling ache in muscles and knew he’d been stunned. Automatically the Auror training took over. He’d been stunned, but the fact he could still feel the residual effects of the spell meant that he hadn’t been out for long. Possibly only a minute, so it couldn’t have been very strong. He mental checked his body. Nothing ached, so he hadn’t fallen far or been flung anywhere by the force of the spell. Before opening his eyes he tried flexing his muscles. Everything moved, so he wasn’t bound magically, not, as far as he could tell, physically. He pressed his body along the pocket in his jeans where his wand should be. It was empty. He tried to remember exactly what had happened. He remembered the spell. Seeing the red flash coming from the wand of the burly wizard he was only just aware of over his shoulder, but the few seconds before that were a blank. That wasn’t uncommon, but just to be sure he mentally went through the exercises he’d been taught. He could remember who he was. It was a Saturday in April, although he couldn’t recall the exact date. He couldn’t remember where he was or why he was here. However, while he couldn’t remember, he didn’t feel the confusion he would have associated with being Obliviated. Some temporary short term memory loss was common with being stunned. Perhaps he should consider opening his eyes, but before he admitted to being awake he needed more information. He was lying on a cool, hard surface, although his cheek told him there was a slight give to it. Rubber maybe, or linoleum? There was a strong smell of antiseptic and ozone and he could hear one, maybe two people nearby, although they weren’t talking to each other. He carefully opened his eyes a fraction. Bright light assaulted him from an odd angle. He was lying on a green-blue floor in a white room. Despite its harshness, the nature of the light suggested it was magical rather than natural or electric. Two rows of institutional chair legs led away from him. He could see two pairs of feet. One wore scuffed and dirty Quidditch boots beneath dark green leggings and a cloak, the other highly polished black shoes, possibly containing steel toecaps, with crisp black trousers and a plain black robe. He opened his eyes wider, turning his head slightly. As he did so the green legs came quickly towards him and a tall shadow bent over him. “Harry?” queried a familiar but worried female voice. Harry took the outstretched hand, allowing Gwenog Jones to pull him to his feet. Harry Potter looked at the Holyhead captain in puzzlement. “You’re in St Mungo’s,” she replied in answer to his unasked question. “They had to stun you.” Harry turned to the burly security wizard who was now approaching. Despite his heavy stature and close cropped hair, the man looked genuinely sorry as he tentatively held Harry’s wand out to him. “Sorry Mr Potter,” he mumbled. “You were upsetting some of the other patients.” Harry frowned and tried to remember. As his fingers closed around the familiar holly wand he saw the door to the room. He’d been arguing with a man... a doctor, trying to get through the door. Trying to get through the door where they’d taken... Ginny! The room spun again and Harry retched into Gwenog’s lap. ********** It was a bright afternoon, although a cold wind from the Irish Sea was disguising any semblance of spring as it whipped around the packed stadium. Harry and his godson were warmly wrapped in matching jackets, scarves and hats, all in the distinctive green and gold colour of the Holyhead Harpies. Despite the comfortable seats provided in the families section of the stands, they were both on their feet cheering at the top of their voices as Ginny Potter streaked towards the far side hoop at the other end of the field. She received the Quaffle from fellow chaser Fiona Surecross, dropped low to avoid a Bludger, feinted right, then threw the red ball past the Keeper into the centre hoop. The home fans went wild as the Harpies went 120 points up against arch rivals the Caerphilly Catapults. The atmosphere of any derby match was always electric and the Catapult fans were trying to drown out the cheers with their own boos and jeers. Harry felt a warmth on his ring finger and knew his wife was in her element. She wasn’t just enjoying herself; she was ecstatic. He continued to cheer as the Caerphilly keeper returned the Quaffle into play. Beside Teddy young Victoire Weasley was more interested in her colour-changing candyfloss than the game. Her father however was cheering almost as loudly as Harry. The Catapults were out for revenge. Their three Chasers swept down the centre of the pitch in tight formation, flanked by their Beaters. They hadn’t reckoned on the Harpies recklessness however. Fiona and Valmai Morgan flew head on towards them, playing a game of high speed chicken. To give him his due, Ruairidh Bishop didn’t drop the Quaffle until his broom touched that of Valmai, but he still dropped it. It was enough for Ginny. She swept out from behind her teammates grabbed it as it fell gently towards the ground and sped down the pitch. A well aimed Bludger distracted the Caerphilly Keeper and Ginny easily scored another 10 points for the Harpies. “Ginny! Ginny! Ginny!” screamed Teddy, Harry and Bill together. Their hotdogs and burgers lay forgotten and trampled on the floor of the stands. Even Victorie looked up and waved furiously at her aunt. Ginny flew back up the pitch, pumping her fist in celebration, slowing slightly as she passed her family to blow a kiss to her husband. Ten minutes and three goals later the Catapults had regained their form. Ginny attempted to intercept a pass, but failed and narrowly missed a Bludger by pulling up rapidly in mid air. Harry winced, then shouted as he saw one of the Caerphilly Beaters hit it back towards her. His warning was lost in the noise of the stadium, but Ginny’s Quidditch instincts sensed something and she turned, just in time to position herself alongside the trajectory of the oncoming ball. However, as Ginny turned, she failed to see the other Bludger which had been hit by Gwenog towards the opposition chaser. It slammed into the side of her head, knocking her and her broom into the path of the first Bludger which smashed into her face. In his mind her heard the crunch of bone and the sharp crack as her neck snapped backwards. Harry watched in an eerie silence, unaware that stadium itself had quietened at the moment of impact. In slow motion he saw Ginny fall backwards from her broom, spinning the forty feet towards the ground with her hair spilling from its ribbons and flickering around her head like flames. She hit the cushioning charm and bounced slightly before being magically lowered gently the last five feet to the ground. The Harpie’s healer and medical staff had left the sidelines the minute Ginny had fallen from her broom and were at her side in a second. Harry too, was already moving. He had shared a look with Bill, done his best to reassure Teddy that Uncle Bill would look after him and that Aunty Ginny would be fine, then he was tearing down the steps, jumping them five or six at a time. ********** Gwenog had been waiting for him at the end of the tunnel. Ginny had already been stabilised and taken straight to St Mungos by emergency Portkey. The Harpeis captain had handed the game over to her vice-captain and Keeper Gillian Smyth. She took a look at the turmoil on Harry’s face, before grabbing his arm and Apparating them both to the hospital. Now she had her hand on his arm again. He looked around to apologise to the security guard, but the man had already left. “Sorry,” Harry said softly motioning to Gwenog’s already cleaned lap. “It doesn’t matter,” she shrugged. For the first time since he’d known her, Harry realised that the thickset, dark haired woman did care about more than just Quidditch. “You know you need to be strong for her,” she added. Harry raised his head from his hands and nodded mutely. The door to the waiting room opened and a man in his late thirties with sandy brown hair entered. Harry vaguely recognised him as the Healer he’d been arguing with before he was stunned. He began to apologise, but was cut off as the older man sat beside him. “Mr Potter,” he began. “I’m Healer Roberts. I’ll be responsible for Mrs Potter’s care. We’ve stabilised her and you’ll be able to see her in a moment...” Harry moved to stand, but the man gently laid his hand on his arm, indicating he wished to say more. Harry turned to Gwenog, but she was already slipping out of the door. “Mr Potter,” he began again. “I’m a specialist in concussion and head and brain injuries.” Brain injuries! Harry’s head swam. It took all his effort to focus on the healer and what he was saying. “...She’s broken her nose and her left cheek, and her skull is fractured in three places. What we don’t yet know is whether she’s suffered any damage to her brain and, if so, how serious it might be. She hasn’t yet regained consciousness, and to be honest, until we’ve healed her skull we don’t want her to. Therefore, we have placed her in a magically-induced coma. She’s unlikely to have any awareness of her surroundings, although we don’t fully understand the conscious and subconscious mind. “We’ll monitor her constantly and once we’re sure that her head is physically stronger, we’ll remove the comatose charm and let her regain consciousness naturally. As she does so we will test her responses to a number of tests and stimuli and see if there’s anything else we need to be concerned about...” Harry stood in silence for a few moments trying to process Healer Roberts’ words. “What sort of brain damage?” he eventually managed to ask. “There might be absolutely nothing once the concussion has worn off,” the healer began. “We are in the process of examining her brain to see if we can spot any physical damage which would give us a better idea of potential symptoms. Until then it would just be speculation.” Harry sighed: “And if you had to speculate?” The older man shook his head. “Mr Potter, the brain is a very complex organ. Symptoms of brain damage can range from a mild speech impediment or tick, to full body paralysis. There may be some short or long term memory loss or other mental illness such as depression or bi-polar disorder. I honestly would not like to speculate about anything until we have more information. And, I would also stress that your wife is young, fit and healthy and received immediate medical attention. There is every possibility that she won’t have any lasting effect from this, physically or mentally.” Harry listened to the words, but the only one his brain seemed to process was paralysis. All their dreams lay shattered at his feet. Would she even know who he was? That he was her husband and that he loved her. Whatever happened he would care for her. He knew he could never leave her, but suddenly the future was as dark and uncertain as it had been during Tom Riddle’s reign of terror. “...see her,” finished the Healer. Harry nodded mutely and followed him from the room. ********** Perhaps if he’d been able to listen to Healer Roberts properly, Harry would have been more prepared. The small figure lay in a bed in the centre of a large room, although if he didn’t know it was his Ginny it could have been anyone. Her head, which was completely bandaged, apart from holes for her eyes, nose and mouth, was suspended magically a couple of inches above the pillow. Here and there dark blood stains had seeped onto the white bandages. Both eyes were black and closed. A tube in her nose led to a small pair of white steel bellows which hung above the bed and pumped continually, while another in her mouth led to a large potion bottle on a stand. The only physical sign it was Ginny was a small stand of auburn hair that had escaped the bandages across her forehead. |
| Reviews 7 |
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