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Author: Imogen Story: Carpe Diem Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Completed Reviews: 4 Words: 62,032
A cacophony of noises blared like a badly tuned radio through his mind, loudly, then fading to almost nothing. As Harry's senses began to focus more clearly he identified a sniffling noise not far from his left ear. The heaviness of his body was exaggerated by the dull throbbing persisting in his head. Slowly he forced his eyelids open, wincing as he encountered the early morning light pervading through the hospital wing. "He'll be fine, Hermione," he heard Ron's voice reassuring and comforting. "He's been through worse than this before." "I know," Hermione responded shakily. "It's just…" Despite his best efforts, Harry's eyes closed again and he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. When he awoke once more, the room was dark and silent. Blurred shapes surrounded him, and he felt rather shaky as if he was just recovering from a bad bout of ‘flu. He reached for his glasses, and then saw to his surprise that despite the stillness of the room he was not alone. Hermione and Ron were still stationed by his bedside, and looked suspiciously as if they'd been there all night. Hermione was asleep, her head nestled into Ron's shoulder. The area around her eyes was still red from where she had been crying and Ron's arm was wrapped protectively around her. He looked white and drained, his eyes staring vacantly into space. "Ron," Harry whispered. Ron jumped then looked quickly at him, a nervous grin spreading over his face. "Harry! You had us worried there! How are you feeling?" His sudden action had disturbed Hermione who gave a little moan, pushed her hair out of her eyes and blinked sleepily. "Wha-?" she croaked. Then realising her proximity to Ron, she sprang apart from him as if she had been scalded. Flushing slightly, she perched on the end of Harry's bed, took his hand in hers and said emotionally, "Oh, Harry!" Harry squeezed her fingers and gave her a lopsided grin. "You're not going to get rid of me that easily, you know." For a second she looked as if she was going to burst into tears all over again, but she swiftly wiped her eyes on her robes when Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room to check on her patient. "Good, you're awake now," she said briskly. "I just want to check you over and you're certainly going to be staying in here for the next couple of days." Harry grimaced. "You'll do as you're told young man and no arguments! And as for you two," she turned to Ron and Hermione and added kindly, "he'll still be here in the morning. Go and get some sleep yourselves. You look exhausted." They knew it was no use arguing, and with one last glance back at Harry, who was being obscured by the hospital screen, they headed back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry felt considerably better the following day and argued vociferously about having to be confined in the hospital wing rather than going to his lessons, but Madam Pomfrey refused to be swayed on the subject. Shortly before lunchtime he had a surprise visit from the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who regarded Harry through his twinkling blue eyes. "It seems Voldemort is gaining more power, Harry," he said seriously, pressing the tips of his fingers together. He leaned forward, "I need to know everything you can tell me." Harry talked about his dream and his headaches, but the fear he had in his heart remained unspoken. If the pains in his scar were now sufficiently severe to make him lose consciousness, then how could he ever fight against Voldemort again? He had a strong suspicion that Dumbledore could read his mind, because when he got up to leave he patted Harry gently on his shoulder. "Try not to worry, boy," he said. "Everything will be all right." Harry was just puzzling over this strange comment when the hospital door burst open. A small figure with a whirlwind of red hair came darting into the room, eyes alight with laughter. "Thought you could do with some company," she whispered mischievously. Then she continued in a louder tone, "Madam Pomfrey? Madam Pomfrey? I'm really sorry to bother you, but I've got a burn on my arm from a blast-ended skrewt, and Hagrid thought you'd better look at it." Ginny's face radiated wounded angelic innocence. "It really hurts," she added pathetically, and Harry had to struggle to keep himself from laughing out loud as he saw her lower lip trembling slightly. Madam Pomfrey tutted and set about applying the orange burn cream to a small singe on Ginny's forearm. "It's not too bad," she comforted Ginny. "Should be fine in an hour or so. I'm sick of telling the headmaster we shouldn't allow those brutes in school. Now dear, sit down for a while and I'll come back and check on you later." As she headed back into her office, Ginny settled herself in a chair next to Harry and grinned at him wickedly. "I'm impressed," admitted Harry, laughing at her audacity. "Well you do learn certain defence mechanisms when you've got six older brothers," she chuckled. "That innocent expression comes in handy sometimes, I can tell you!" She looked at Harry, some anxiety now showing in her eyes. "So how are you? The way Ron described it, I was half expecting to see you at death's door!" "It was just my scar hurting, that's all, Ginny. I'm absolutely fine now." "Isn't there anything anyone can do about it?" she asked curiously. "Surely there's a charm or something that might work." "Well it's not exactly a common ailment," Harry began, but she interrupted him. "Have you asked Dumbledore? I'm sure he'd know." "Well, not exactly, but…" "Harry!" she impersonated her mother's fussing voice with uncanny accuracy. "You really should take more care of yourself. Best to be on the safe side." Harry lay back on his pillows and laughed. "You know Gin," he said after a pause, "it's so nice to just be able to chat with you like this. I'm glad you're not hiding round corners from me anymore." Ginny went pink. "And no blushing either," Harry continued, teasing her gently. "I'm not having that Harry Potter fan club starting off again." Ginny threw a pillow at him and giggled. "You had to bring that up, didn't you? Well I can honestly tell you I shall cast my heart around for a more deserving soul who values the finer points of singing Valentine's greetings. Maybe I could start up a Neville Longbottom appreciation society, or something?" The pair of them exchanged glances and hooted with laughter. Ron and Hermione finally made it up to the hospital wing after classes to find Harry and Ginny absorbed in arguing about the finer points of Quidditch, and team tactics for the coming match with Ravenclaw. Harry had conjured up diagrams in the air and was demonstrating the Wimborne Wave manoeuvre for the chasers. "It'll never work, Harry," insisted Ginny watching the magical diagram carefully, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Look, all the other team have to do is keep a player low down to intercept the Quaffle. See?" She waved her wand and showed him. "Hi there!" Hermione called cheerfully. "You're looking a lot better today, Harry." Ron, meanwhile, was frowning at his little sister. "What are you doing in here Ginny?" he asked. "Accident with a blast-ended skrewt," she said, smiling apologetically at him. "Madam Pomfrey's fixed my arm now though." She glanced at her watch. "I'd better get going. I've got this afternoon's work to catch up on now as well as half a mountain of homework to do. See you all later." She grinned at Harry and Hermione, tousled her brother's hair and headed rapidly out of the door before Ron could catch her to gain his revenge. Ron came back to his chair trying desperately to flatten his hair back down after Ginny's attack, an expression out outrage on his face. "Here let me," Hermione laughed at him, and reached over to smooth a particularly hedgehog-like part near the crown of his head. As she touched him, he looked into her eyes, holding her gaze. They both reddened, Ron looked away, and Hermione quickly dropped her hand back into her lap. "I had a letter from Viktor this morning," she said awkwardly in the silence that followed. Harry glanced at her in surprise. They both knew how Ron reacted to even the sound of Krum's name, and voluntarily bringing up the subject seemed to be nothing short of suicidal. "He agrees it's best if we don't write any more." Ron visibly appeared to be wrestling with a wide range of emotions, and Harry was not in the slightest bit surprised when he suddenly got to his feet. "Harry, I'm sorry. I've got to go and sort some stuff out," he shook his head, deeply perplexed. "You're out of here tomorrow?" "Yeah," replied Harry. "With a bit of luck I'll be down for breakfast." "Right then. Yes. Good," he muttered distractedly and disappeared from sight into the corridor. Hermione followed him not long afterwards, leaving Harry alone to get on with the homework she had brought for him. One piece was a potions essay for Professor Snape, and Harry knew well enough that this essay would have to be done as Snape would like nothing better than to have an excuse to give him detention or take ten points from Gryffindor. He was just opening his textbook to read over what he'd missed that day when the door creaked open yet again and Ginny poked her head round, looking as if she'd run the full length of the school. "Harry, I've just seen Dumbledore," she gasped for breath, holding a stitch in her side. "There is a charm that might help. He's given me a book." Harry's hopes rose as he saw the slim volume clutched in her hand. "What is it Ginny? Which charm?" "I can't tell you," she looked frustrated. "It depends on absolute trust to work."
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