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Author: Rosina Ferguson Story: Harry Potter and the Book of Ages Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 4 Words: 64,426
Not again! thought Harry as he slowly returned to consciousness. He could feel smooth crisp bed sheets beneath the palms of his hands. Not the hospital wing again! As he pried his sticky eyelids apart and breathed in unfamiliar scents, he quickly realised he was right, it was not the hospital wing. But where was he? Focussing on his environment, Harry could hear a steady Beep! Beep! Beep! He’d heard that sound before and recently, too. The beeping got faster. Harry turned his head and saw a blurred figure sitting in a chair by his head. He was relieved that he could turn his head and reduce the pain in his skull. He was in a fairly small room. Overhead was a bright fluorescent strip light which cast its bland, even light over the whole room. At his movement, the figure in the chair put down what she’d been reading and stood, moving away from the bed and standing stiffly against the wall. Two other figures had entered the room. “When did he open his eyes?” asked the first voice as she, for undoubtedly the voice was that of a woman, shone that horribly bright light in his eyes. There was a moment of discomfort before it was extinguished. “Only a couple of minutes before you came in,” replied a softer and more melodious female voice from the corner. “Bleep Dr. McGregor on 6078.” The first woman was obviously accustomed to giving a command and getting instant obedience for, at her word, the third silent figure left the room, returning less than a minute later. “He’s on his way.” “Has he said anything?” enquired the first woman once more. At first Harry thought she meant the doctor, but the reply she received indicated that she wanted to know if the patient had spoken. “No. But he doesn’t speak English, does he?” came the puzzling reply. “We don’t know. We don’t think so, none of the others did.” Harry tried to keep his expression blank, but his mind was whirling. What was going on? Why did they think he couldn’t understand English? “How’s our mystery man doing?” Harry recognised this voice! It was the other Harry, the doctor he vaguely recalled from earlier. Harry smiled down at Harry and said, “I’m glad you’re back with us. It’s been touch-and-go, but we think you’re out of the woods now.” Harry 2 turned to the senior nurse. “Keep him on 15 minute observations. Let’s have a look at the CT reports. Two broken ribs, no free fluid in the abdomen, good. Leave the chest drain in for now. I’ll check on him again before he goes to the ward. Is there a bed for him yet?” “Yes, Doctor. We’ve just been told that there’s a side-room ready on Edith Cavell Ward. Waiting for the porters to move him once you give the OK.” “Yes, he should be fine now. See if you can get an interpreter for him. Try the Language Line people, they should be able to help.” “The others were from Krakhosia, perhaps one of them could help translate?” Harry 2 turned to the speaker. It had been the woman who had been sitting in the chair when Harry had awoken. “Well, with excellent suggestions like that you’ll make sergeant in no time!” Harry could almost hear the smile in his voice. “In this situation it’s the only logical thing to do,” snapped the voice, irritation now obvious in her tone. “Forgive me, I wasn’t trying to be patronising.” The doctor was obviously aware he’d put his foot in his mouth and tried to make amends. “You’re quite right, of course, but tell me, will you be able to make the necessary arrangements?” “Sorry. I just …!” She changed tack instead, stating, “I’ll get on to the Duty Sergeant. He should know where the others have been taken and whether any of them speak English. I’ll be right back.” With that she left the room along with the other two women leaving the two Harrys alone. The doctor lifted up the casenotes and started writing; as he did he started talking to Harry, it was obvious that he didn’t believe he was being understood. “Way to go, Harry! Every time you meet someone you fancy you open your big mouth and straight away plant both your size 10’s straight inside! Why? Why did you have to come out with some crass smart-mouth remark instead of simply paying a compliment? Bet she won’t even give you the time of day now!” Before the doctor could continue berating himself and before Harry gave away his understanding and sympathy with the sentiment being so accurately expressed, the door opened and a porter entered. “Transfer to Edith Cavell?” queried the porter. The next few minutes were taken up with the painful transfer of Harry from the Accident and Emergency department of the hospital to a ward. His new room was much smaller than the resuscitation room in the A&E. In one corner was a washbasin with a mirror over it and dispensers for liquid soap. There were sun-bleached curtains at the window. The only other items in the room were an armchair at the side of the bed, a wheeled locker for personal effects and an over-bed table. On the wall was, to Harry’s surprise, a TV on a wall-bracket. Four nurses entered the room to help transfer Harry to the bed. By the time he was fully settled he was exhausted and fell into a fitful sleep.
zzz Once again Harry felt crisp bed sheets beneath his fingers, but the smells this time were the familiar ones from school. “I am so fed up with this!” Harry said aloud, not expecting any response. “Oh, thanks!” Harry sat up and stared ahead of him and at the same moment his mouth dropped open in shock! “GINNY! Oh, thank God!” He then did something that took both of them by surprise. He shot off the bed, grabbed a hold of Ginny and kissed her. Not a quick peck, but a passionate kiss that seemed to last for eternity! A small noise from the back of Ginny’s throat made Harry’s eyes open-wide and he instantly released her and moved away from her arms. “Sorry! I… I don’t know…!” “Harry James Potter, if you dare apologise for that kiss I’ll hex you into the middle of next week!” Her words were challenging and she strongly reminded Harry of her mother once more, especially when a moment later her ire dissolved into a beautiful smile. Harry leaned back against the hospital wing bed. Ginny took two steps towards him and brought one hand up to gently cup his cheek. “What’s happened? Night after night I’ve slept and no sign of you. I even went to bed for a couple of hours in the middle of the afternoon, but I was so worried I couldn’t sleep anyway. All that happened was I worried the life out of Mum and she wanted to call Madam Pomfrey!” At these words Harry reached out and took hold of Ginny’s hand then turned his head and kissed her palm. “Are you OK, Harry?” questioned Ginny. Concern was evident in her voice. “Tell me what’s been going on.” Harry sat himself up on the bed, his legs dangling off the side. Ginny moved so she was beside him. Harry took hold of her hand and clasped it in his, holding on to it as though it was his lifeline and he was a drowning man. Truthfully he had rarely felt so isolated and these moments with Ginny were like islands of tranquillity in a storm-tossed sea of worries. Harry started off with waking up to the sound of his watch’s alarm and going up on deck and seeing a rat with a silver paw. “Wormtail!” Ginny almost spat out the detested name. “That’s what I reckon. There can’t be two rats with silver paws can there and I think he put the Imperius Curse on Sam ‘cos from then on Sam was acting funny and not like he had been. I think he’d been told to get me to Tilbury and by then the Death Eaters would be ready to capture me again.” “Maybe!” Ginny said. “Maybe? What else can explain it?” Harry stood up and paced back and forth between the beds. “Well, it is possible, but it doesn’t fit with all the facts!” countered Ginny. Harry raised his hands in exasperation. “Now you sound like Hermione!” “Well, I’ll just have to take that as a compliment. But listen…” Ginny then went on to outline her alternative theory. In her opinion it wasn’t Sam under Imperius that sailed with Harry from Ramsgate to Tilbury, but a Death Eater under Polyjuice. Her reasoning was that the real Sam would have known the towns and sights on the route; he’d travelled to Tilbury by sea before and the “Sam” that travelled with Harry obviously hadn’t and a “pure blood” Death Eater would consider a Muggle pleasure pier to be of no interest and not know its name. “Even I know Southend Pier – we covered it in Muggle Studies – but I can’t for one minute imagine Death Eaters knowing about it.” Ginny continued her theory saying, “Another thing – didn’t you say Sam got very evasive when you asked for his home address to keep in touch?” “Of course!” exclaimed Harry. “If he were really a Death Eater he wouldn’t know Sam’s address! God, I’ve been such an idiot. Why didn’t I see it before?” Harry’s momentary joy at realising that the real Sam would have wanted to keep in touch and would have gladly shared his address with Harry was immediately destroyed by the horrid realisation that the real Sam could now be held prisoner. Or, worse, he could be dead. Another death for which he, Harry, was responsible. Past experience told Ginny exactly where Harry was going with this train of thought and she could read his face like a book. “Now just you hold on a minute, Harry! Don’t you go jumping to conclusions or blaming yourself for something that may not have even happened.” “Oh yeah? How do you work that out then? Have you ever heard of anyone being held prisoner by Death Eaters just being released unharmed and sent on their way? They’re Death Eaters, Ginny! Killing, destroying and torturing is what they do best! They enjoy it! They won’t let Sam go and just pat him on the head and say, ‘Please don’t tell on us.’ They’ll silence him permanently. It’s the only way for them!” Harry had worked himself up into a full-blown panic. He could feel sweat trickling down his face and his breathing was getting harder. Ginny stood up and stepped toward him, her hands outstretched as his pain increased and he fell to his knees. Light! White light! Blindingly bright white light! Voices – one male, soft and mellow, one female soft and lilting. One sentiment, spoken with love. “Not yet, Harry! Now’s not your time. You still have so much to do! We’ll be waiting when it’s your time. We love you, Harry. Don’t forget, son, we love you.” The light disappeared into darkness. Harry felt a tightness and a hellish pain in his chest. It was worse than the Cruciatus Curse and that was saying something. More voices. Sharp, efficient, forceful. Words were spoken. “Should be OK now. Keep to 15 minute obs. Get a new set of bloods to the lab. Bleep me if you need me.” Other voices, unknown to Harry. “Have you ever seen eyes as green as these?” “You’re supposed to be checking their re-activity not admiring their colour.” “Yes, but still! And did you notice that scar? That’s not recent! But it looks so bright and angry.” “Well where he comes from I don’t suppose they have an NHS. Wounds are harder to heal without proper care.” “Are you sure he’s an illegal immigrant?” “Nurse Atkins, your job is to care for your patients without consideration of their social, ethical or political background.” “Sorry, Sister.” “You can let that WPC back in now and then you can have your break.” The junior nurse had a puzzled look still on her face. “Nurse! Call the Policewoman back in. Oh, do wake up, girl!” “Yes, Sister. Sorry, Sister.” Harry was aware of a door opening and one figure leaving and another entering. The Sister updated the WPC with Harry’s condition. “He’s stable again. You did well to alert us as quickly as you did. He had an allergic reaction to his analgesia and could have died if he hadn’t received prompt attention. I intend to notify your superiors. You undoubtedly saved his life!” “I only did what was logical, but thank you for those kind words.” “Not at all.” The Sister acknowledged as she left the room followed by the Student Nurse. The WPC walked up to stand at Harry’s bedside. “Who are you? Why are you so familiar? I feel that I should know your name, but it just won’t come…!” She sat down on the armchair in the corner of the room and picked up from the floor the magazine she had been reading. She silently turned the pages. Harry drifted off back to sleep, but this time it was a dreamless – and Ginnyless – sleep.
ooo When he next woke Harry felt more normal than he had felt in days. True he still had pain in his ribs, but now he felt that he could breathe relatively pain free. Was that the drugs or had he been healed while he slept? Oh, wait! thought Harry, this is Muggle medicine we’re talking about. No quick healing with a boneset potion and a wand here. No, it’s drugs, surgery and long stays in bed! Looking around Harry noted a bag suspended from a stand with a long tube leading down to a needle in his left arm. As he moved his right leg he felt another tube and he realised with a shock that he had been “catheterised,” he thought the word was. No wonder he didn’t feel the need to pass water. His movements attracted the notice of the policeman sitting at his bedside. “You’re awake, are you?” he said unnecessarily. After all Harry had his eyes open and he was looking him in the eye. The Policeman poked his head out the door of the hospital room. “Boy-oh just woke up. That Dr. McGregor said I had to tell you when he opened his eyes.”
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