I swore, when I started doing this, that I was never going to apologize if I had to take a long time between updates. It's life, and this is a hobby.
Besides, this chapter is really, really long. I didn't want to break it up, and it took a long time to get happy with it. So, I hope that you all enjoy it.
If the medical jargon I have used so far in this story irritates, bores, or otherwise bothers you, then you should probably skip the letter at the beginning of this chapter. :D
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Bonds of Blood and Magic | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny, Severus Snape Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff, Romance Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence/Physical Abuse Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 932 Summary: A few days before Bill and Fleur's wedding, Harry vanished. Two weeks later, Ginny disappeared, also alone and without a trace. Someone has stepped out of the shadows for a moment, moved some pieces on the board, and changed the rules of the game. Hitcount: Story Total: 407100; Chapter Total: 14388 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Mr Evan Jamieson PO Box 563* Banchory, Scotland, AB31 5TJ United Kingdom 16th August 1997 Dear Mr Jamieson, Your son, Henry, was successfully transferred to our hospital early this morning. He needed oxygen upon arrival. Other than that, his condition was stable and we were able to admit him to our traumatic brain injury rehabilitation and treatment center. All paperwork from his former care facility was in order, with the exception that his scans were apparently lost in transport. We have completed our own diagnostics and will be able to treat your son without difficulty. Initial testing of his blood and urine indicate that his liver, kidneys, spleen, and pancreas are all functioning at normal levels. All fractures and abrasions are fully healed. He should be off most monitors by Monday. Perhaps in one to two months, he will be ready to transfer to outpatient care. We are currently evaluating your son and developing a customized treatment plan. In spite of the fact that he appears to be awake and aware at this time, his condition is not considered normal consciousness, but a stage of coma recovery. His current Glascow Coma Scale score is 12 indicating a moderate coma. It will take some time for him to fully regain consciousness. I do not expect it to take very long, because of his remarkable recovery to date, but I cannot hazard an estimate for how long this will take. His glasses prescription corrected for -3.10 and -3.65, right and left respectively. His current vision, however, is +2.30 and -0.75. The moderate hypermetropia, or long sightedness, of his right eye is caused by trauma, and will change as the swelling in his brain decreases. He has only partial vision in that eye due to scarring on his optic nerve. It is unlikely that he will fully recover his right side peripheral vision. However, as the swelling in his brain continues to abate, some improvement is possible. He is extremely sensitive to light. A corticosteroid is prescribed to reduce the swelling around his optic nerve and his brain in general. He is currently using non-prescription sunglasses as they help alleviate his photophobia. Prescription sunglasses will be available Monday. An analgesic is prescribed for pain. We were at first planning to continue to try to flush the neurotoxin from his body, however that is not possible as he is having difficulty passing such quantities of fluid and his wife refuses to allow us to place an indwelling catheter in his bladder. He is receiving some fluids intravenously. A speech therapist is working with him to improve both his speech and eating abilities. Nutrient shakes will make up the majority of his diet for some time to come as he has great difficulty chewing and swallowing. Your son has general muscle weakness consistent with prolonged inactivity with a few exceptions. Areas of concern are the sluggish responses of his diaphragm, lower abdomen and the muscles of his right hand, and the over response of the muscles of his left hand and back. He has no motor control of his legs at present. His inability to inhale deeply is adversely affecting his blood oxygen levels and his speech. There is hope that, as the neurotoxin continues to clear from his system, his diaphragm, abdominals, right hand and legs will recover as we can find no other cause for their weakness. The spasticity in his left hand and back is due to excessive nerve signals in the right side of his brain causing multiple messages to be sent to the affected left side muscles. This causes tight muscles and pain and makes movement of affected limbs difficult if not impossible when left untreated. It is uncertain whether this condition will improve or disappear as the swelling in his brain decreases. There is little muscle atrophy, with the exception of his right lower leg, indicating excellent initial care. Such atrophy is expected due to the severity of the compound fractures to his tibia and fibula. A respiratory therapist is helping him relearn how to breathe deeply with the goal of having him off oxygen therapy part of the day within the week, full time within two. A muscle relaxant is prescribed for spasticity in the muscles of his back and left hand. His physiotherapist is carefully maintaining the flexibility of his joints in addition to providing massage, passive therapy for his legs and strength training for his upper body. An occupational therapist helps him practice a variety of tasks with his hands along with visual and mental exercises. He is relearning how to do activities of daily living and how to use tools to help him overcome his present limitations. Your son will begin using a wheelchair as soon as he has adequate upper body strength to sit up with good posture for thirty minutes at a time and enough arm strength to push his own chair. We are dedicated to helping your son regain physical independence. I would like to order a bespoke ultra lightweight chair appropriate for an active young man who will need it for independent mobility for months to come, perhaps years, as we are uncertain when the neurotoxin’s effect will wane, how long it will take for him to relearn to walk once it does, or what all of the long term effects of his brain injury are. Your NHS will not fully cover such an expense, but I feel that it will give your son greater freedom of movement than our standard chairs can provide. His wife agrees, but as you are paying the bills, I would appreciate your input into this decision. I hope that this report satisfies any concerns you may have about your son’s medical care. Your daughter-in-law has asked me to update you weekly to keep you informed as your son’s condition improves. Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions or concerns at the number below or by return post. Yours, Dr Bellamy Jace, Chef de Service Hôpital National de Saint-Maurice 14, rue Val d'Osne 9**15 Saint-Maurice Cedex, France Tél. : *1 43 96 63 4* Snape finished reading and set the letter aside. He was silent for several minutes then abruptly stood and exited his office. He apparated to a secluded spot next to a river and began walking. As he approached the village he paused and removed a disillusionment charm then cast several glamours. He needed to be careful. It would not do to be discovered here. He crossed a bridge, then a road nodding as he passed a few stragglers. Most people were home by now. He entered a telephone box, inserted coins and dialed the operator. “I need to place a call to France.” *** When Ginny got out of the shower, she felt something different. It wasn’t the hospital room, the handicapped-accessible bathroom, or the odd lights. Adjusting to those things didn’t take her very long, and after all, they’d been here five days. No, it was … a feeling. And … it didn’t belong to her, to her own mind. She thought for a moment, and then opened herself to Harry, and pulled gently on his emotions, just enough to feel … just to feel … There it was. It was him. He felt different, definitely more alert. He seemed … almost … happy? She hurriedly dressed and opened the bathroom door. The occupational therapist had been waking Harry up while Ginny had gotten ready for the shower. Now, Harry seemed to be alone and he was sitting up. Yes, the bed was propped up and there were pillows behind him, but he wasn’t leaning against them at all. He was leaning forward, his focus entirely on the … televisor at the foot of his bed and he was holding some sort of … plaskic? … device in his hands. She could feel his excitement. It was flowing throughout the room. Quite literally, in fact. Several papers were stirring on the table, and the curtains fluttered in front of the closed window. Ginny leaned against the door frame watching him, amazed at the change. She knew part of it was the new glasses. But he also looked stronger today, and his movements were more confident, more sure. The confused expression he’d worn for over a week now was gone. Eventually, she heard a series of notes and he put down the device. As he leaned back against his pillows, he turned and caught sight of her. “Hey, Gin.” He was grinning from ear to ear. Ginny smiled back. “Hey, Harry,” she replied as she walked over to him. She leaned over and kissed him. “Having fun?” “Yeah,” he said scooting over a bit on the bed so she could climb up next to him. “Want to play?” Ginny lowered the rail and made sure the area was clear of wires and tubes before joining Harry on the bed. She laughed, “Well, sure, but … what are you doing?” “They gave me a PlayStation! Dudley had one, but I never got to … and then he threw it out the window, anyway. But this is so cool! It’s called ‘Air Combat’ — it’s like flying an airplane, and shooting guns. This other one’s ‘Blazing Dragons,’ but I haven’t played it yet.” She smiled at his animation, and he smiled back. But, then he sighed. “I know ... it’s really just therapy. But it’s fun.” “Looks like you’re having fun.” “You want to try it?” “You play. I’ll just watch for now.” “Sure?” “Yes, love,” Ginny replied as she snuggled into him. “Erm. I’ll need that,” he said, looking at the arm she’d taken possession of. Ginny pretended to pout but let go of him and leaned back against the bed to watch. It really did look like fun, so after Harry played a few more games, and they stopped to eat breakfast, she gave it a go. It was much harder than it looked, so much so that she crashed her plane over and over again before they decided to try the Dragon game. It was both easier and harder. It was easier because they weren’t trying to simulate flying on a tiny, two dimensional screen, but harder because there was a story to try to keep track of while they played. And for a couple of hours, the Potters played video games, and sounded like any other pair of teenagers. *** That afternoon, Ginny looked up from her book when Harry started to stroke her hair. He’d been asleep, worn out by physiotherapy. She smiled at him, and went back to reading. “What are you reading?” “Transfiguration. Silent casting instructions for everything we learned through the OWL.” “Oh. Yeah, Hermione loves that. She read all of that section the summer before sixth year.” Ginny smiled again and turned back to her book. A few minutes later, they heard a knock at the door to the hospital room, followed by a cautious male voice. “Madam Jamieson? Monsieur Jamieson?” “Please come in, Jacques, I am dressed,” called Ginny, who found herself smiling slightly. “Allo. I am just to check the medicines, Madam, Monsieur,” said the male nurse as he entered the room. He shuffled about in the room for a few minutes, looked at monitors, noted things on Harry’s charts, checked and adjusted the IV bags, and then bid them adieu with a nod and small, nervous smile to Ginny as he left the room. As soon as the door closed, Ginny burst into laughter that she suddenly could no longer contain. “What?” Harry said, laughing slightly in sympathy to Ginny’s riotous mirth. “Jacques! Last night, he …” Ginny couldn’t continue and started laughing again. “What did he do?” Harry asked, anger bleeding through his voice. Ginny stopped laughing, shocked at what she felt. Harry … he felt ready to fight someone. She reached over and took his hand. “Calm down, love. He didn’t do anything. Well, not really. Certainly nothing worth you feeling like this,” she said, raising her eyebrows at him significantly. Harry closed his eyes as he held her hand tightly for a moment, and took a deep breath. She felt his anger thin and fade as she pushed her love and concern into their bond. “Honestly, Harry, it’s a just funny story, not something to get mad about.” “Alright, what happened?” “Jacques just hadn’t been on shift in several days, so he didn’t know us. When he came into the room to take care of you last night, he basically did the same thing Pomfrey did when she found me in bed with you. Just, in French. I swear, there must be a class healers take on how to fuss about people being in bed together.” Harry started to laugh. “What did you do?” “Oh, I started screaming at him when he pulled the sheet off me. There I was, only wearing knickers and a tank top, and he’s yelling and pointing at me, and then pointing at the door, and I jumped out of the bed and started yelling at him and poking him in the chest. All the lights in the room started to flicker, and he got really scared and ran out. He told Dr. Jace that a red-haired Medusa chased him out of here.” “Medusa?” he questioned. She looked down at her lap. “Well, evidently, my hair was snapping around in my aura, like Medusa’s snake hair. And he got a bit of a burn on his chest — from when I was poking him, I guess, but I didn’t realize it.” Harry just stared at her. “Dr. Jace wasn’t very happy. I think they’re both scared of me now. But, Dr. Jace chewed him out for not reading the chart before he barged in here, so he got in trouble.” “So, why didn’t I wake up for all of this yelling?” “They give you more drugs at night. Kind of makes you hard to wake up.” “Does he remember you burning him?” Harry asked, afraid of the answer. “Well, I don’t really know. I guess he might. Maybe he just thinks I was poking him really hard.” “Are you going to get in trouble? What if the French Ministry of Magic finds out? Maybe they’ll turn us over to the British Ministry …” “No, no. Nothing got out. Dr. Jace told him to keep his mouth shut, and showed him your chart from Switzerland that has a Confundus on it. Besides, Jacque’s kind of embarrassed that a sweet little girl like me chased him out of here and scared him so bad. Erm … he had to come back with a mop later.” “A mop?” “Yeah, he had to change his trousers first.” Harry lay back in the bed and laughed. “You must have looked like a Valkyrie coming down to tear his heart out!” “I guess.” Ginny shrugged. “It wasn’t a very nice way to wake up.” “I suppose not. Erm … Switzerland?” “Don’t you remember? Our honeymoon? You fell off a cliff while we were hiking.” Ginny tried to keep a straight face. “What are … Ginny, what are you going on about? We’ve never been to Switzerland. I may not remember the past few days, but … You’re having me on.” Ginny giggled then admitted, “Just a bit. But if anyone asks you how you got hurt, that’s the cover story. Well, most of it. There’s a snake involved, too. It’s okay to say you don’t remember. Apparently, that is very common with brain injuries.” Harry glared at her. “Erm,” Ginny swallowed. “What’s the last thing you remember?” “You mean before I woke up this morning and what happened today?” “Sure, if you remember today.” Ginny grinned when Harry scowled then leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Everything recent is really vague. Erm … all the people today were familiar … except for Jacques, but I don’t really remember them and this room … I know it’s mine and I’m supposed to be here but … ” Harry stopped. “You’ve been here the whole time.” Ginny smiled at him and reached over to cup his face. “Where else would I be?” She asked. Harry kissed her hand. “So, erm … I remember that night. Snape had come. You were upset about the procedure. I assume we did it the next day. So … erm, now I’m in a muggle hospital in … France? At least, all the signs are in French, and all the therapists have French accents.” Ginny nodded. “The procedure was two weeks ago, Harry.” *** Tonks and Moody apparated from a safe house in London to a cliff-side cottage on the coast in Cornwall. As soon as they arrived, Moody sent a Patronus message ahead to alert the occupants of the house that they were coming. A tall, red-haired man with a dragon tooth dangling from his left ear opened the front door as they entered the wards. “Moody! Tonks! Come on in, dinner’s almost ready,” he called to them as they approached the house. “Ah, we’re just here to pass along word of Harry and Ginny,” grumbled Moody. Tonks grabbed Bill in a brief hug as they entered the house. Fleur greeted her from the kitchen doorway. “Ah ‘ope you are in ze mood for fruit crepe,” Fleur said. “Eet is almost ready.” “Sure, that sounds really good,” said Tonks as she went into the kitchen with her friend. They companionably bustled about. Fleur put the finishing touches on dinner while Tonks set the table with a swish of her wand. It wasn’t long before the four of them were seated around the table. “How did your mother take the news about Harry and Ginny?” asked Moody. Bill rolled his eyes. “She’s glad they’re alive, and she’s eating again. But I wouldn’t want to be them when she finally catches up with them. What were they thinking, running away from you?” he asked rhetorically. “They’re teenagers! Who knows?” said Tonks dramatically, complete with an emphatic arm wave. In her gesture, she lost her grip on her fork, and it stuck itself in the ceiling. She blushed, laughed, and summoned it back to the table. “You’ve upgraded the detection wards,” said Moody as his eye spun crazily about. “Yeah. Had to, can’t be too careful,” said Bill. “You’re right about that. Good idea, makes it harder even for people who know the secret to get in here.” “So, what’s going on in the world outside of Gringotts? We haven’t even seen anyone in the past week or so.” “Well, Tonks and Kingsley quit their jobs at the Ministry when they made Dolohov the head of the Auror Department, so we’re all three kind of on the run from the Hit Wizards now. King’s in a safehouse in Plymouth.” Fleur looked at Tonks with a frown. “Where ees your ‘usband?” Tonks blinked a few times. “I don’t know. They burned the house down after I quit, and we haven’t seen him since. I was out looking for Harry and Ginny when it happened, so he could be anywhere.” Fleur stood and moved around behind Tonks to embrace her and murmur in her ear. Tonks started to cry after a moment, so Fleur took her arm and lead her from the room. Bill watched them go quietly. “You know, we just found out that Fleur’s pregnant. I can’t imagine what she’d be going through if I disappeared like that.” “You still going in to work?” “For now. Just me, though. The goblins gave us secure portkeys, so I don’t have to try to apparate or travel through Diagon Alley.” Bill shook himself. “What have you two been doing, then?” Moody shook his head. “Looking for stragglers from the muggleborns, trying to get them or anyone from the Order we find into safehouses or out of the country, and looking for evidence of Harry and Ginny.” “Did you find out anything?” Bill asked eagerly. “Mum’s doing a bit better, but she’s still going spare over them.” “Mostly, I can tell you where they’re not. We’re pretty fair certain that they’ve left Britain entirely. My contacts in the Colonies haven’t turned up anything there. The portkey signature wasn’t long distance, so we tried to start just across the Channel, but we haven’t come up with much. There was a hint of something in Switzerland, but it’s so vague, I’m not sure it’s worth chasing down. We just don’t have the manpower to search the Continent, and I’m afraid that if I send somebody over there, it may just alert the damned Death Eaters that there’s something worth looking at.” Bill gazed at him steadily. “Fleur’s parents are still in France. We could go check it out, if you want.” Moody shook his head. “How many safehouses are you secret keeper for? We can’t afford to lose you. If you go over there … Well, at least you’d be safer to send than anyone else. Anyone else that’s available, it’d be a pretty fair bet some Death Eaters’d get suspicious and track’em. Even the two of you, it’d be questionable, and I’m not sure it’s worth the risk. “Let me think about it. I’ll have to get back to you.” “What do you know about Remus?” Bill asked more quietly. Moody matched his somber, quiet tone. “I think he was there when the Hit Wizards came for Nymphadora. I didn’t find any evidence of a body, or his blood, so he could have gotten away. If he did, and he’s smart, he’s hiding. Maybe with one of the wild packs up north, or at one of the safehouses we haven’t been able to check on yet. Otherwise … well, we haven’t heard that he’s been taken, so we’re just hoping he got away.” “How is she?” “Girl’s strong. She’s holding it together for now.” Squeals of delight came from the other room. Both men rose to their feet and made their way into the other room to find the women hugging again. “Beel, eet ees wonderful! Tonks, she ees pregana’t, too!” Moody’s eye stilled its spinning as his face lost color. *** Ginny wasn’t sure what to do with herself. It was nine o’clock, Saturday night, and she had nothing to do. Harry was doing so well with his wheelchair, that they had been able to leave the hospital building and take a walk in the garden once the sun set but now he was sleeping and unlikely to wakeup before morning and she wasn’t tired at all. Bored, she got up and took a walk around the hospital to her favorite spot. Five little babies in clear plastic beds lay asleep in a room full of hospital machines. She watched them for a while through the window, thinking. The grimaces they made, the little fists shaking in the air when they moved, were all so different for her. She’d never held a baby, being the youngest in her family, but … she was drawn to them. She spent a lot of time when she had nothing else to do, watching the babies. But she couldn’t stand that for very long, either, so she went back to the room and tried to study. Really, though, she just fidgeted at the desk. When finally she realized what she was doing, there was a pile of shredded paper in her lap, and the book she’d been attempting to study was still on the same page she’d left it on the day before. She tried writing to Madam Pomfrey, but she wasn’t sure what was safe to say, so she gave up on that, too. She’d have to ask Dr Jace. She wanted to talk to someone. She missed her family. She wanted them to know how well Harry was doing, not that they knew how sick he was in the first place. He was making great progress, though, now that he was fully conscious and the neurotoxin had completely left his upper body. He surprised his therapists everyday. She was so proud of him, so relieved. She felt for the DA galleon in her bag. It was hot again, of course. She’d entirely ignored Hermione since they left Grimmauld Place. Sighing, she pulled out the coin. GW — come on. its been a week! HG Ginny snorted. Maybe she could tell Hermione something, or at least wind her up a bit since she had nothing better to do. HG — rly? i hadn’t noticed. G Ginny was surprised when the coin heated up almost immediately. She giggled. Hermione must be carting it around, desperate for news. GW — im srry. forgive me? HG HG — not yet. G GW — y talk 2 me? HG HG — im bored. G GW — erm, ok. hows HP? HG HG — much better. G GW — really? HG HG — yes. im not a liar. G GW — but HP very sick. HG HG — im acutely aware of that. G Ginny looked over at Harry. Yes, he was much, much better but he wouldn’t be well for some time to come. It was so hard to see him like this. She shook her head trying to focus on the positive. Her Harry was back and he was getting stronger everyday. He was somewhat mobile now and only needed the oxygen and IV at night … Her attention returned to the coin in her hand when it became unbearably hot. GW — u shouldn’t have left old HQ. HG HG — we had 2. G GW — AM and NT help u. not hurt. HG HG — no time 2 find out who. G GW — they found potions. whats wrong? HG Ginny groaned. She thought she’d gotten everything. HG — HP tortured by DEs 4 2 wks! use ur head. G GW — know its bad. didnt know some potions. HG HG — u didnt know something? end of world! G GW — ha ha. whos helping u 2? HG HG — none of ur business. G GW — order help. where r u? HG HG — don’t need ur help. G GW — u cant keep HP from us. HG HG — im not. HP 2 sick 2 move. G GW — u shld hv taken HP 2 us. HG HG — where r u? order? G GW — srry. cant say. HG HG — how get HP 2 u then? G GW — tell me where u r. order will get u. HG HG — dont want order help. dont trust all. G GW — where r u? send ur family. HG HG — cant say. HP cant go, n e way. G GW — HP needs medical care. HG HG — has medical care. G GW — u r not qualified . HG HG — u r? have pro help. G GW — good. visit? HG HG — no. G GW — trust me? HG HG — no. u r security risk. G GW — not fair! love u. help u. HG HG — we r safe. u cant help us. G GW — i cud if u wud anser me! HG HG —stop. giv coin to brthr. G GW — dont. srry. im just worried HG HG — i know. giv coin to brthr. G GW — let me talk 2 HP. HG HG — HP asleep. goodbye. G GW — no. plz. Ill stop. HG HG — FW, RW, GgW. Now. G GW — fine. HG Several minutes passed with no messages. Talking to Hermione wasn’t much fun after all. Now, instead of being bored, Ginny was angry. What made Hermione think she had the right to tell everyone what to do? Ginny climbed in bed with Harry and snuggled up to him. He turned and wrapped his arms around her. She felt better immediately as she realized that she was home in the only way that mattered. The coin heated up again. Ginny hesitated but decided to look at it. There was just enough light coming from the open bathroom door and around the closed curtains that she could read the message. GW — r u still there? HG HG — yes. u find brther? G gg — how r u? FW FW — did u just call me gingin? G gg — y yes. thats ur name. FW FW — stop. G gg — i can’t call u GW. 2 confusing. FW Ginny groaned. Why did she think this was a good idea? FW — I m G. GgW is not G. Duh. G gg — wheres fun in that? FW Ginny laughed out loud, disturbing Harry who blinked at her in a confused, befuddled way. “Sorry, Harry. Go back to sleep,” she said as she kissed his forehead. She’d have to be more careful. They’d lowered the doses of his medications and he wasn’t as dopey at night now. She watched until eyes closed again then went back to the coin. FW — im no gingin. G G — srry. FW FW — k. G G — ruok? FW FW — anyone reading over ur shoulder? G G — no. y? FW FW — dont want HG 2 see, worry mum. G G — i promise 2 tell no1. wheezes word. FW FW — good enough. HP cant walk. in hospital. G G — HP cant walk? FW FW — HP gtng better. out of coma. G G — r u serious? FW FW — yes. G G — order needs 2 know. FW FW — NO! HP ok, get better soon. G G — wont tell. u talk 2 me. FW FW — k. master coin only. G G — Ill borrow HG coin every night. FW FW — no. u keep. not talking 2 her. G G — y? FW FW — kind of hate her at mo. G G — y? FW FW — nosy. bossy. big mouth. G G — snort. sometimes. FW FW — HP really gtng better. dont worry. G G — coin u tomorrow night. k? FW FW — k. goodnight. G G — g’night. FW Ginny untangled herself from Harry and got ready for bed. Well, that was better. Talking to Fred … she could trust him not to put her mother into a tailspin. Hermione just didn’t know when to stop sometimes. It was going to be good to talk to him more, and be able to communicate with someone besides Hermione. Feeling better about her family situation than she had in weeks, Ginny turned out the bathroom light, climbed back into bed with Harry, and fell asleep. *** Well, at least she’s an attractive sadist, Harry thought with an audible groan as his physical therapist left the room. Ginny slapped his shoulder. His face turned to her in confusion. “What?” “What, what? You know what!” “No, what?” She slapped his shoulder again. “Are you slapping that shoulder because it’s one of the few parts of my body not already in pain?” “Yes.” Slap. “What? Ginny, stop it! That hurts!” Harry said then shifted his weight off his elbows and lowered his shoulders and head to the floor “You aren’t allowed to be attracted to other women.” Slap. “Ow! I’m not!” He reached for her hand. “Yes, you are! I felt that!” Slap. “Quit it! I was merely observing that, for a sadistic physical therapist, it’s probably a good idea to make sure that they are pleasant to look at. I’m not attracted to her!” He reached for her other hand but she pulled it away. “You think she’s pretty.” Slap. “You, my dear, are very pretty. Ow! So, apparently, you are sadistic too?” Ginny glared at him. Harry, foolishly perhaps, started to laugh. “You are so cute,” he said between laughs. “I am not attracted to that woman, Ginny. I’d have to be mad! You saw what she just did to me! Makes me wish I was still paralyzed.” “So, what, I’m overreacting?” she said, her eyes bright. “I’m sorry, but I’d have to say so, yeah.” “But I’m not as pretty as she is,” she said, as a tear rolled down her cheek, “and you’re stuck with me.” “Yeah, and you’re stuck with me. We’re married. And she is definitely not prettier than you are. Come here.” Ginny lay down on the mat next to Harry and let him hold her. After several minutes his breathing slowed. She turned to look at his face and smirked. She shook him gently. “Harry, wake up. I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to sleep in here.” Harry kept his eyes shut. “S’okay,” he slurred. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the room. I bet you’re hungry.” She got up and pushed his wheelchair close. He didn’t move. “Harry. Get up,” she ordered sternly. He jerked at her tone and opened his eyes, but blinked at her, confused. “Harry, you can’t sleep here. Let’s go back to the room.” He looked around the room and seemed to realize where they were. “Levitate me into my chair?” Ginny laughed, “I’m not allowed to do anything for you that you can do for yourself. You know that! Get up, layabout.” *** Snape usually took tea in the Headmaster’s office. It was a time for him to talk to Dumbledore’s portrait in private. The other Death Eaters did not interrupt him there, so it was safe for him to discuss the Potters and other sensitive issues without being overheard. Today, the house elf who brought his tea also set an envelope on the tea tray. “Mimsy brings you a letter from the muggle letterbox, Headmaster.” Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Did anyone see you?” Mimsy drew herself up to her full height, which brought her eyes level with his desktop. “No one sees Mimsy, that Mimsy doesn’t wants them to.” She glared at Snape, an offended expression on her wrinkled little face. Snape nodded shortly. “Thank you. You may go.” Snape scanned the letter shortly. It was a third progress report from Dr. Jace, addressed to Henry Jamieson’s ‘father’, who expected ‘Henry’ to be able to leave hospital in two to three weeks and wondered where outpatient therapy would take place. Another phone call would be necessary. Snape shook his head in disbelief. He’d thought it would be so simple. But, Harry would be in no condition to continue his fight in the foreseeable future. “I nearly killed the boy, Albus,” Snape brooded. Dumbledore’s portrait sighed. “I told you. If you’d followed my plan, Harry would be out finding the Horcruxes instead of lying in hospital.” Snape growled, “And I told you, I’m not sacrificing him. I’m going to help him. And my plan worked … just, not as smoothly as I would have liked. The Horcrux is gone, and he’s not dead. Try to tell me your plan was better. Just try. We’re following mine now. “Are you going to help me or not?” “Of course, I will help you. I have always helped you, Severus.” “That’s why you waited until the day before you made me kill you to tell me that I had to convince Harry to commit suicide? That kind of help isn’t what we need.” The portrait sighed. “I am dead, Severus. I can’t control you anymore, you’re the Headmaster, and you are helping Harry now. I shall give you advice, and listen to you when you need me to, but ultimately, you have to make the choices now, and live with the consequences, just as I did.” “Why did you even wake up?” snarled Snape. “What is it that you want from me, Severus?” “At the moment? Nothing. Nothing at all.” Snape turned his back on the portrait and resolved to stick to school issues when addressing it, at least for the time being, anyway. He made himself a cup of tea and nibbled on a biscuit before returning to the letter from Dr. Jace. It amused him that the doctor imagined he was addressing Potter’s father. The news was mostly good: the venom had cleared his system, and he could move his legs, but … ah, his liver function was compromised and they were changing the medication that treated his spasticity and wanted to discuss … surgery? Absolutely not. A conference call with Dr. Jace and Mrs. Potter would be required. He began planning a trip into Muggle Aberdeen to do just that. As he finished the thick missive, he found another envelope attached to the back of it, addressed to Pomfrey. “Mimsy!” he called. The small, female house-elf in the Hogwarts tea-towel toga returned to the Headmaster’s office, next to his desk. “Yes, Headmaster?” squeaked the little creature. “Please deliver this letter to Madam Pomfrey,” he said as he held out the envelope. Mimsy accepted the letter and popped out of the room again. *** Pomfrey smiled slightly as she wiped a tear from the cheek of the first-year on the examination table in front of her. “Miss Jenkins, you will be fine. Just drink this pain potion,” she said as she handed the little girl a vial of dark red fluid, “and let me know if it starts to hurt again before morning. Try to get some sleep. I shall be just over there, in my office.” It was not widely known in the school, but Pomfrey’s living quarters were in the Hospital Wing, as part of her office. It was a convenience Pomfrey was grateful for as she returned to her tea and book. Pomfrey sipped her tea as she sat in the chair beside her bed and tried to find her place in the book she’d been reading when little Sarah Jenkins came crying into the wing after falling from one of the moving staircases. Merlin knew what the child had been thinking, swinging from that banister on the second day of school. Still, it was much less dangerous than the things that Harry and his friends had got up to, or his parents and their friends for that matter. The book was not distracting her anymore, now that her concentration was broken. Naturally, when she found her mind wandering, she started to worry about Harry and Ginny again, just as she had whenever her mind was unoccupied in the past few weeks. Just then, one of the house-elves popped into the room. “Madam Pomfrey, Headmaster gives me this letter for you,” said the little elf. “Thank you,” Pomfrey said as she took the letter. The elf immediately left. She looked at her name on the envelope curiously. She gasped. It was from Ginny. Hurriedly, she ripped open the paper, and scanned the letter. 28 Aug. 1997 Dear MP, H is so much better. He’s awake and remembers. He’s off oxygen and IV fluids. He can move his legs! He’s still weak but he’s getting stronger everyday. He might start learning to walk again next week. He loves all the exercise, even though it hurts and wears him out. He secretly fancies his new wheelchair even though he hates that he needs it. When it first came, he was upset about it. Once he tried it, though, he was smitten. It is so much better than the one we used before coming here, or even the ones that they have here. He compared it to a Firebolt! He has trouble eating and has tremors and muscle spasms on his left side. But they’re trying to help him with all of it. His eyes are good. Better than before actually, as long as he wears sunglasses. Your cousin is great. Thank you for taking such good care of us. Love, J *** Ginny awoke suddenly and fully, her eyes wide. ‘What …’ she thought, but then felt Harry’s body, which was spooned up behind her, jerk backwards sharply and violently. She gasped, but then he wrapped himself back around her and lay still and peacefully against her. Her brow furrowed. Then his body jerked violently backwards again. This time, he gasped, gagged, and then said, “Ow!” “Yeah, that sounded like it hurt. Are you alright?” “I think I did something to my neck. Did you feel that?” “Erm, yeah. All three times.” He paused. “I did that three times?” “Yeah, the first one woke me up.” “Wow. No wonder my neck hurts. What was that?” “Muscle spasms. You have them all the time in your sleep, but not that bad. I think I remember one of the therapists saying that you might do this, when the therapy got more intense. The muscle relaxant is supposed to help.” “Yeah, but they’re taking me off the one in the IV.” “Well, they want to get that catheter out, and they said that med is making your liver sick anyway. You’ve been taking the new one, right?” “Yeah.” “So, we’ll tell them in the morning that you’re having spasms that wake you up. Maybe they’ll increase it.” “Alright.” They lay there in the darkness for a few minutes, listening to the beeping of machines, the murmurs in the hallway outside while the nurses and nighttime cleaning crews went about their business, but more importantly, listening to each other breathe. Finally, Harry pulled her more tightly against his chest. “You still awake, love?” “Yeah.” “Have you heard from Hermione lately?” She didn’t answer for a moment. “Gin?” “Yeah,” she replied reluctantly. “What?” “I’m kind of mad at her.” “Why?” “She won’t keep her mouth shut.” “What did she do?” “Told my mum how sick you were. Mum stopped eating, threw a huge wobbly.” Harry groaned and buried his head into the pillow. “Mum’s doing better now, though. She knows you’re getting help. Tonks and Mad-Eye found some potions we left at Grimmauld Place, and then I told Fred that you were doing better, so she isn’t quite as worried now. But I still … I haven’t talked to Hermione in days, a week and a half really. Told her to give Fred the DA coin, and then I told him not to give it back to her, so I don’t have to talk to her.” “I’ll talk to her in the morning.” “Okay.” “Are you still mad at her?” “I just don’t feel like I can really trust her. You know? Like, a secret is only a secret if she approves. I hate that.” “Well, I’ll talk to her. She isn’t really like that most of the time, you know. She just … likes to be involved in everything.” “I know, but why did she have to tell mum? And why does she have to know everything about you?” “Gin, you know what it was like for her before she made friends with Ron and me.” “No, I don’t.” “Oh. Erm, well, we were her first friends. Before that, nobody really talked to her.” “So, what? She gets to act like an idiot because no one talked to her for two months, what was it, six years ago?” “No, love. That wasn’t what I meant. We were her first friends, ever. At all. And honestly, she and Ron were my first real friends. We’re a lot alike in that way, so I kind of relate to what it was like for her.” “Really? She never had any friends before Hogwarts?” “She was really smart, didn’t care to act like she wasn’t, her magic started manifesting in strange ways, and she read all the time. Pretty hard for normal little kids to want to be her friend, or even older kids. So, I don’t think she’s really being bossy, love.” “But she is! She won’t let anything go!” “It’s not that. She’s just trying not to let her friends go, Gin. She doesn’t want to lose her first friends, so she feels like she has to hold on as tightly to me as she can, know as much about me as she can, and make herself so important in my life that I can’t imagine life without her in it. That’s just … she doesn’t want me to ditch her. It’s how she feels about me, and Ron too, I guess.” “She told me that I was keeping you from them.” He smiled into her shoulder blade, and kissed her t-shirt. “Well, aren’t you?” “Prat.” “Look, she knows the prophecy, she knows about the Horcruxes, and she’s been working really hard on getting information about where they are and how to destroy them. Before I was captured, she and Ron and I were planning on hunting them together this year. She was working on getting us ready for all of that. So, yeah, she probably does feel like you’ve stolen me from her, even though it was Snape and the other Death Eaters that got to me first.” Ginny didn’t say anything at all for several minutes. She just stroked the arm Harry had wrapped around her tummy and chest, thinking. “Harry?” “Hmmm. Erm, yeah?” “Oh, I’m sorry. You were asleep again.” “Not really, just drifting.” She didn’t say anything again, so he prompted her, “Gin, what is it?” “You and Ron were her first friends ever?” “Yeah. Weird, right? Who’d have thought a freak like me would be someone’s first friend.” “Well, everybody has to have one, even you.” “Yeah.” “So. Maybe that’s why she was so upset at Ron.” “She was upset at Ron? Why?” “Something he said about you, and then about her.” Harry shook his head. “So, Ron was being his usual sensitive self, and upset her?” “Well, he upset me first, and then her.” Harry rolled over onto his back, and groaned slightly from the relief to the pressure on his abused spine. “What did he do this time?” he asked. She rolled herself over, adjusted the bedcovers, and then laid her head on his chest, put one arm under his neck, the other across his chest, and wrapped one leg around him as well. “Well, let’s see. First, they both cornered me and asked me why we weren’t writing to each other. So, I finally told them what happened after the funeral.” “Oh.” “Yeah. Prat.” “Yeah.” “So, apparently, you never told your friends that you broke up with me.” “Well, no, it’s not like I talked to anybody much on the way home,” he said, embarrassed. “Right. Well, neither did I, really.” “Yeah, I noticed.” “You watched me?” Ginny lifted her head and looked at his face. “Of course.” “Right. You know, if you were really trying to protect me by breaking up with me, you should probably have told people.” “Erm …” He really didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t like he’d been thinking very clearly at the time, after all. And things were so different now. His memories of the funeral and … breaking up with Ginny, were really more like a dream when he compared them to his new reality. He could feel Ginny all the time now, and couldn’t imagine being parted from her. She was as much a part of him as his own skin, and it comforted him. He loved being with her, he loved feeling her in his … heart, mind, wherever it was that was the center of their connection, it was just … right, and unchangeable. He didn’t want anything else but her, and really regretted even trying to break up with her. But he didn’t know how to tell her that, so he just trailed off. “Right. Well, so anyway, Ron threw a fit. Idiot. It took a few weeks of no owls for him to even figure it out.” “So, you hadn’t told anyone either.” Ginny shook her head. “No. I would have at school. But … I was in shock at first. I mean everything had been so wonderful and then all of a sudden we were fighting for our lives and Bill and …” her voice broke. Harry pulled her closer and whispered, “Dumbledore.” Ginny kissed him then pulled back. “You were leaving. You didn’t think you were coming back.” Harry closed his eyes. She knew him too well. Ginny touched his face and waited until he looked at her to go on. “I knew I couldn’t stop you. I knew I couldn’t go with you because of the trace. But it’s not like I was going to go out with other blokes. I’m yours.” Harry wiped a tear that had slipped out off her cheek. “And I’m yours.” Ginny smiled. “Not that Ron could ever understand that. At first, he seemed to think it was my fault.” “Your fault? I’m the one who broke up with you.” Ginny huffed, “Yeah, but he was mad that I let you.” “So what did you do?” “I tried to curse him.” Harry raised an eyebrow, “You tried?” Ginny buried her head against his side. “This is too embarrassing,” she mumbled. “What?” “I was crying. Ugh … I was crying so hard I couldn’t see straight, and missed.” Harry lifted Ginny’s chin, as he suppressed the quirk to his lips that was threatening to come out. “Lucky Ron. What was it? Bat-bogey?” “Yeah. So I tried to shove him out of my room, but he wouldn’t budge, the git.” “And Hermione?” “Oh, she started telling him to leave both of us alone, so he called you names and asked her why she thought it was her business. Then she said we were her friends and told Ron he had the emotional range of a teaspoon. And then he called her an interfering know-it-all.” “That sounds pretty normal, actually.” “No, it wasn’t normal at all. Ron was swearing at Hermione and threatening you. I just sat on my bed in shock. I’ve never seen them fight like that before. Argue, yell, whatever, but this …” She shook her head. “He really hurt her.” “He threatened me?” Ginny nodded. “Yeah, he was really disgusted when I started to cry and said you’d better not show your face or he and my brothers would be having a ‘conversation’ with you.” “But when I came …” “He’d had a week to think about it by then. Hermione really hurt him, too.” “What do you mean?” Harry asked quietly. Ginny sighed then laid her head back on Harry’s chest and hugged him tightly. “Hermione asked Ron if that’s what he really thought of her, of you. She said she thought the two of you were his friends but she must have been wrong. “Ron started spluttering and trying to take it back, but she told him to get out.” Ginny’s hands balled into fists. “He said he was just trying to protect me. Like I need that kind of help! Anyway, then she told him that he was doing a great job of it, making me cry. Of course, he started to whine about how he was supposed to be taking care of me from blokes, and didn’t mean it. “Hermione wouldn’t hear it, though. She told him he couldn’t treat people like that, and that he’d always acted like that, and she was sick of it. You’d have thought I wasn’t even in the room the way they carried on. “When she said she couldn’t talk to him anymore and didn’t want to, he finally left.” “But …” “She meant it, Harry. They were barely speaking to each other the day I left. Whatever there was between them, it’s gone. Hermione cried at first, but now she acts like its no big deal. She seems to have … moved on.” Ginny scowled thinking of her promise then continued. “Ron seems completely lost.” “He didn’t say anything to me.” “Harry, you were only there for one night.” “How can they not be friends?” “Oh, Hermione says they’re still friends.” “What does Ron say?” “Nothing. Not really. He barely speaks at all.” Harry lay still and silent for a moment. Then, gently, he said, “Well, love, maybe that’s why she’s so upset about you stealing me. She lost Ron because he’s an idiot, and I’m just gone. So she’s lost both of her best friends, and … maybe she just doesn’t know what to do about it.” Harry fell silent, and Ginny hoped that he’d fall asleep soon. He really hadn’t been sleeping well the past few nights, not since they’d taken him off the stronger medications. *** Ginny slipped out of bed trying not to disturb Harry. He’d only been sleeping restfully for a few hours. She really didn’t want to leave him, but the Chaplain was expecting her soon. They always had breakfast Thursday mornings. She hurriedly dressed only just remembering that Harry wanted the DA galleon to talk to Hermione when she felt it in her pocket. She pulled it out and slipped it into Harry’s hand then kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back soon, love,” she whispered before leaving the room. When she returned half an hour later, Harry hadn’t moved. She hopped in the shower, eager to get ready for their date. It was almost like a Hogsmeade visit. And it was going to be fun, in spite of the fact that she wasn’t particularly fond of some of the other teens in his support group. Some of them were really immature berks, but getting out of hospital for a few hours was always a good thing, even if they had to go with the other teens. They’d only been on one day trip so far, but it had been fun. They’d seen the movie Men in Black on Monday and it was so cool! Today they were going to a museum, some famous Muggle palace or other in Paris. Ginny really wasn’t as fascinated with Muggles as her father was. Sure, they were interesting, but she knew plenty of Muggleborns at school, so she couldn’t see why he acted like they were so different. Just people with different abilities, was all. But the museum, she’d been told, was full of some of the best art in the history of the world, and she was excited to see it. She pulled on her best pair of jeans, some that seemed to have belonged to Harry’s mum, paired with one of her lacy white blouses. It was going to be a good day. *** Harry woke up slowly, feeling the pulse in his veins as a living thing. His whole body seemed to move with the rhythm of it. He contemplated how in tune with his feelings and his body he was growing to be. Physical therapy wasn’t any fun at all, but he was really learning how his body worked. It was an intimate, visceral knowledge that he was growing to appreciate on a daily basis. His pulse was just a manifestation of it. It almost felt like his entire essence throbbed in time with it, while his breath was a slow counterpoint to the rhythm of his heart, of his life. He opened his eyes slightly, and was shocked at what he saw. His blanket was rising off his body minutely, and then lowering back down, in time with his pulse. As he noticed this, his pulse naturally sped up. So did the fluttering of his blanket. He heard, and felt, a tittering, musical giggle from the other side of the room. “Awake now, are you?” came the voice of his Ginny. She stepped up to the bed and laid her hand on his forehead. Immediately, the blanket settled down around him. “How long has that been going on?” he wondered. “Oh, only for about an hour … today. Must have been some dream,” she smirked at him. He rolled his eyes and flailed about to get free of the blankets. “What do you mean today?” Harry asked once he was detangled. “Harry, your magic has been doing things like that for a few weeks. Haven’t you noticed?” “Not really,” he replied as he pushed himself to a sitting position. Ginny lowered the rail on the right side of his bed. “Want some help?” she asked, twirling her wand at him. She knew she was hovering, and that he hated it, but she really didn’t want him to fall. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “I’m perfectly capable of getting to the loo, thank you, love.” One at time, he lifted his legs with his hands over the side of the bed, turning as he did so. He pushed himself to the side of the bed until his was barely sitting on it, and hooked his chair with his toe, bringing it fractionally closer to him. Ginny’s eyes widened. She kept herself from saying anything with an effort, because she hadn’t seen him with that much control of his legs since the procedure, and it was almost a shock to her to realize that he was, in fact, improving. She watched as he carefully lowered himself into the chair, mostly using his arms of course, but the legs were definitely involved. Harry took a deep breath, grabbed some clothes and then wheeled himself across the room and into the loo. It was the first morning since they arrived that he didn’t ask for, or need, any help at all to take care of his morning needs. *** Breakfast was over, and his morning therapy. Ginny had gone with Dr Jace to talk to Snape on the phone about his medication options. Harry was glad he’d been busy and couldn’t go. Snape was not his father and he didn’t think he could pretend that he was. Wondering how much longer Ginny would be, Harry decided that it was time to try to talk to Hermione. He took the coin in his hands, and tried to formulate a thought to send to her. He set it down after a few moments, his brow furrowed. She was his best friend. It shouldn’t be this hard to think of something to say to her. He should be able to just to say hello, at the very least. But he couldn’t seem to put enough force into a greeting to change the message on the coin. Then he realized the problem. Hermione was his friend, but she wasn’t his best friend anymore. Ginny was and she was angry with Hermione, angry at a betrayal of her trust. He realized that he felt that anger, or at least an impression of it, along with Ginny’s determination not to talk to her, and it was coloring his efforts, blocking them. He nodded to himself. Now that he understood the problem, he could, possibly, do something about it. He thought about how he felt about Hermione, how much he trusted her and how long they’d been friends, and the fire of anger that he felt from Ginny dimmed a bit. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt like he could at least talk to Hermione, so he picked up the coin again. HG — Hey, how are you? HP He let the message sit there for a while. He was almost asleep before he felt the coin warm, showing that he had a response. *** Fred was sleeping in after a night of guard duty at the safe house. The Weasleys were not alone at this particular house, but they were the bulk of the population, and they constituted most of the witches and wizards qualified to stand guard and, as necessary, fight, so naturally, the young man got tasked with many guard shifts. As he’d promised Ginny, however, he still had the DA galleon with him, and while he was asleep, he didn’t completely ignore his surroundings. So when the galleon heated up in his pocket, he did notice. Eventually. Groggily coming awake, he wiped at his face with one hand while he dug out the coin. “Wonder what ickle Gin-gin wants,” he muttered. He was shocked to see the message on the coin. It wasn’t Ginny after all. It was the missing Boy-Who-Lived. HP — still there, mate? FW FW — yeah. HG around? HP HP — wait a mo. FW He jumped from his bed, threw on a shirt, and ran down the stairs to find Hermione. Hermione stared at Fred, not understanding his words. “Harry wants to talk to me? He’s not here, is he? How …” That was when she finally saw the coin in his hand, the one thrust out to her, the one he was practically jamming into her chest, trying to get her to take it. She snatched it from his hand and ran from the room, squealing. Fred watched her leave, and chuckled. He shook his head as he headed back up the stairs, looking to find his bed again, and hopefully get some more sleep before Hermione decided to tell him all about the conversation she was hopefully about to have. HP — R U OK? where R U? HG She didn’t get an immediate response, but eventually, the coin heated up again. HG — fine? HP HJP! — that’s not funny! HG HG — srry. HP HP — better b. worried about u. HG HG — don’t worry. safe here. HP HP — where r u? HG HG — can’t say. HP — why is GW keeping you away? HG HG — not. we need 2 b here. HP HP — we come get u. come now! help u. HG HG — u can’t come. we will come 2 u. HP HP — when? HG — not sure. srry. HP HP — r u ok? HG HG — not exactly. better though. HP HP — whats wrong? HG HG — tell u when I c u. HP HP — what about the hunt? need 2 start. HG HG — 1 down. 4 2 go. HP Understandably, Hermione had to pause after that revelation. Not only had Harry been working on the Horcrux hunt without her, but he’d actually destroyed one without telling her first. And, he seemed to think that there were more to find than even Dumbledore had told him. She was a bit upset. She felt abandoned, superfluous, lost. She’d spent a lot of time preparing for the hunt, gathering supplies and possible necessities. She’d stolen books from Dumbledore’s office. She’d studied everything she could get her hands on about detecting dark magic, wards, static curses, and so forth — almost everything she’d done since school ended, in fact, had been geared toward the goal of destroying the Horcruxes, of getting out and away with Ron and Harry and taking on the task that Dumbledore left for them. She should be with Harry. He needed her. Instead, she sat essentially imprisoned in a safe house full of witches, wizards, and her parents and tried not to go stir-crazy with boredom, not to mention worry about her missing friend. At least she wasn’t stuck with the noxious Dursleys anymore. And there he was, not telling her anything. Refusing to reveal why he was so sick, refusing to give details about anything. She was frustrated, but she didn’t dare show it. She’d learned her lesson with Ginny. Upsetting the person on the other end of one of these conversations was a quick path to getting cut of from any information, even if the content of the conversation was a bit limited in the first place. She took a deep breath, and started up the conversation again. HP — wish I cud b w/u. which 1? HG HG — b w/you soon. new 1. didn’t know about it b 4. HP HP — what was it? HG HG — tell u when I c u. HP HP — k. can I come on the next one? HG HG — maybe. depends. HP HP — I m ready now. come 2 u now. HG HG — no. don’t worry. stay safe. c u when we can. HP HP — why does GW get 2 go? underage! trace. HG That, too, resulted in a pause, and Hermione was afraid that she’d pushed the wrong button, that Harry was going to shut her out just like Ginny had done. HG — D E fault. u shouldn’t b mad at G. HP HP — shes mad at me. HG HG — yeah. HP HP — what happened 2 u 2? y cant I come 2 u? HG HG — tell u when we c u. HP Hermione paused for a moment before she answered. That wasn’t very satisfying, but at least she was getting something from Harry. That was a vast improvement over weeks of nothing. HP — k. stay safe. HG HG — u stay safe. I m going 2 town. HP HP — u prat! HG HG — luv u 2. got 2 go. bye. HP HP — out. HG Hermione charged back up the stairs to the room Fred shared with George and their now mail-order-only business. “Fred!” she shouted as she barged into the room. “Well, that didn’t take as long as I was hoping,” Fred muttered to himself as he rolled over and smiled at Hermione. “Guess what? Harry doesn’t hate me!” she said as she walked over to the bed, still holding the DA galleon. “Well, that’s good,” he said as he sat up and made room for her to sit down. *** Harry barked out a laugh. Almost too predictable, that girl was. Ginny did have some basis for her reactions. If you didn’t understand Hermione, you probably would think her too overbearing … and you’d be right, too. At least sometimes. Harry chuckled to himself as he rolled across the room toward the desk. Ginny came in and closed the door just as he got there. He set the coin on the desk before spinning himself around to face her. “You were right, love.” “Of course I was. What am I right about this time?” “Hermione.” She glared at him. “You talked to her.” He smirked slightly as his eyebrow lifted in amusement at her tone. “One of us needed to.” Ginny raised an eyebrow in challenge. “She thinks you’re keeping me away and that she needs to come rescue me. She’s quite angry with you. I guess she doesn’t understand that you have more rights to me now than she does.” “Or anyone else, Potter,” she said as she smiled and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Well, I think she’s probably a bit put out with me, too, since I didn’t answer most of her questions. And she didn’t appreciate my attempts at humor.” “I can’t imagine why not. You’re so funny.” Ginny’s reply was so clean, so deadpan, that Harry had to laugh. “Well, Mr. Comedian, are you about ready to get on the bus?” “I suppose. You?” “Sure. You wheeling yourself out there, or do I get to drive?” “Oh, you can come along. I’ll drive till I get tired, then you can push me.” *** Ginny pushed Harry’s wheelchair closer to the painting of a woman. They were part of a great line of people in the gallery, all moving past the same moderately-sized canvas. It was odd. This simple portrait was under such tight security that you had to stay behind a rope, several feet from it. It wasn’t like they could have touched it anyway, since it was under a glass casing on the wall. She decided that there were nicer paintings in the museum, and certainly ones of prettier women. She shook her head and snorted quietly. ‘No accounting for taste, I suppose,’ she thought to herself. “What do you think?” she asked Harry. He shook his head slightly. “What’s the big deal? She seems a little … plump, for all this fuss.” “That’s what you said about all of those Ruben paintings, too,” she smirked. Harry blushed. “No, I said that you would be a much better model for that kind of thing than those ladies.” “Right,” she said, rolling her eyes. He’d seemed to have some appreciation for the paintings, but tried to play it off by saying the models were too fat for his tastes. “So, would you like one like that done of me, then?” He got a kind of dreamy look on his face. “Oh, wow. Yeah, maybe.” She raised her eyebrow. “You do realize that I’d have to pose for it, don’t you? Who should I have paint it, then? Dean?” Horrified, Harry looked over his shoulder at her. “Don’t you dare! Nobody gets to see you like that but me!” She laughed, and cuffed his shoulder. “Well, then, maybe you’ll have to learn how to paint, love.” He looked thoughtful, as they moved past the portrait and into another gallery. “Well, erm … maybe.” He got a sly look on his face. “How long do you think it’d take to paint something like that? You’d have to pose the whole time, right?” She laughed in his ear. “Anytime you want, love.” He swallowed thickly, and changed the subject. “Might not be a bad idea, really. It’s pretty boring, sitting around reading most of the time, when I’m not in therapy.” “What about your PlayStation?” “The hospital is going to take that back before we leave, and one of those won’t work once we start living normally again anyway,” he whispered. “Well, then, I think there’s some art supplies, and even a class you can take at the hospital,” she replied. “Father Pierre was telling me this morning about some of the other activities there are to get involved in.” “I don’t know, though. Did you see my craft from last Saturday?” “What, the duck?” “It was a pot!” She laughed. “It was!” They passed a group of teens from one of the schools in the area, and heard some loud speaking in French from the group, as they looked at Harry and the rest of the tour group from the hospital. One of the adults with the hospital group called back to the teens in a somewhat angry tone, and they got quiet and left. “Wonder what that was all about?” Ginny said as they watched the other group leaving the room. “Just children being stupid, Madam Ginny. Nothing to worry about,” came a softly accented voice to their side. “Oh, Jean-Paul. I didn’t see you there,” Ginny greeted the therapist warmly. “How are the two of you enjoying the Louvre?” he replied politely. They looked at each other for a moment, then back to him and Harry answered. “It’s certainly different from anything either of us has seen before.” “Certainly, but you have been to a museum before, n’est pas?” “Actually, I don’t think I have. Definitely not one like this, anyway.” “This is one of the largest museums in the world, of course.” “It’s very impressive,” Ginny said as she noticed the rest of their group had moved on without them. Just as she was about to push Harry’s chair forward, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Harry began to move himself as she turned to Jean-Paul. “You know he can do that himself. You need to let him.” Ginny nodded as she caught up with Harry. “Sorry. Jean-Paul thinks I’m babying you too much.” Harry just smirked at her. *** Harry’s left leg started to cramp as he extended it for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. He’d already swum for thirty minutes — twenty arms only, ten legs only — and lifted weights with different parts of his body for nearly an hour. He fought the cramp as he tried to hold his leg at full extension for the ten seconds he was supposed to. “Come on, you can do this, almost done,” he muttered to himself. The muscles in his thigh started shaking as a horrible pain shot through first one, then two, and then all of his quadriceps muscles. The cramp was so intense, he couldn’t bend his leg to release the weight. Even though it was only about ten pounds, the pressure pulled down on his shin relentlessly. He desperately wanted to drop the weight, willed himself to do it, but the cramped up muscles didn’t move. The padding on the bar seemed to have disappeared, leaving the feeling of bare iron digging a groove into his shinbone. His entire world disappeared into a red fog of pain, centered on the muscles in his thigh and the pressure on his shin. The shaking of his leg got so bad, the weight machine he sat on vibrated in sympathy. Then it started to hop up and down slightly. Ginny, working out on the other side of the room, set her dumbbells down and stood up. She stared at Harry, where he held a leg extension with an intense look of concentration on his face. Harry often felt pain during his weight lifting exercises, but he looked and felt … She started to sprint across the exercise room … The therapist, who normally worked with Harry one-on-one, was in the office answering a page, so Harry and Ginny were alone in the room. That turned out to be a good thing for the Statute of Secrecy, as the lights in the room all flickered for a moment. Then, in a blinding flash of brilliance, all of the bulbs burst. At the same time, a wave of raw magic snapped outward and fried all of the monitors and other electronic equipment within fifty meters, shutting down most of that section of the hospital. It seemed to pass warmly around Ginny, though, like a river flowing around a rock as she continued to run to Harry. Ginny carefully placed her left hand under the padded off-side lifting bar on the leg extension machine, and then pressed down on Harry’s left shin, to get it out of contact with the bar. He screamed. She winced, but kept pushing as she slid his shin to the side and out from under the pad. As soon as his leg was free, she carefully lowered the bar to the bottom and stood up. Harry, groaning, held his left thigh in both his hands, his eyes shut tightly in pain. “Harry, what’s wrong?” she asked as she took one of his arms with both her hands, trying to turn him to a more comfortable position. “Leg — it won’t bend, it just — aaahh!” he screamed as another wave of pain shot through him. She felt another powerful wave of magic flow over and through her as Harry screamed. Then he fell off the bench to the floor, and his whole body started to spasm. His pain bled through to her own mind, and she nearly passed out, but held herself up and stumbled to his side. She grabbed his head and held it to her chest to keep the spasms from slamming it into the weight machine, started to push power back down through her bond into him, and started screaming for help. *** Harry grimaced as he paused in his progress to lean on the bars he stood between. It was his second day of trying to walk from one end of the bars to the other. Yesterday, he’d only gotten halfway down before he collapsed. It hurt! Merlin, but it hurt. ‘Nothing like last weekend, though,’ he thought with a shudder. Nothing much hurt like that, outside of a Cruciatus. And he’d felt enough of those to know he’d pass if he was offered another opportunity. He sighed as he felt the therapist start to remove the clips holding up one of the bars. “That’s far enough for today, Mssr Jamieson. You got farther than yesterday, and you’re not dangling from the harness, so it’s better.” “Hurts more.” “Well, certainly. The muscles, they are sore from the seizure, from the sitting still for so long after, and then from walking yesterday. This is a process, Monsieur. You are improving, and that is all that one may expect.” Harry sighed. Every time it seemed like he was making progress, something happened and he ended up flat on his back again. ‘Not this time,’ he promised himself. ‘I’m getting out of this thrice-cursed hospital. No more flopping around like a baby.’ “Harry, are you done in here?” Ginny said as she rushed into the room. He smiled in spite of himself. “Oui, Madame Jamieson, ‘e is done,” replied the therapist for him. “Oh, wonderful. Dr. Jace approved it, Harry. I’m breaking you out of here. I just finished packing, so all you have to do is get cleaned up and we can call for a cab. Let’s go, Mister!” She smiled brilliantly at him, and he had to smile back at her enthusiasm. Entertainment for her at the hotel consisted mainly of working out every day with him, walking around talking to the staff, visiting with the chaplain, looking at the babies in the maternity ward, and studying. Mostly, she just studied, truth to tell. They were supposed to have done their first overnight away the week before, but his seizure blew that away. ‘Along with a lot of expensive equipment,’ he thought ruefully. Ginny had never heard of a magical backlash like that before, but she didn’t deal with Muggle technology very often, so it was hardly a surprise. He settled into his wheelchair with a sigh and followed her down the hall. He was a little nervous to be leaving the confines of the hospital, but … they couldn’t stay there forever. Voldemort was out there, the Horcruxes waited to be found, and it was time to get moving. |
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