Harry leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes, willing himself to concentrate. Whatever pain medication they kept giving him made him slow and lethargic, and he desperately needed to think clearly. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the world wavering erratically around him.
OK, so Uncle Vernon said that someone's trying to kill me. "Tell me something I don't know," Harry muttered under his breath. From the little that he'd remembered from his visit with Uncle Vernon, it was clear that the Dursleys had been talking with the wizarding world. He inhaled slowly and winced at the pain. Clearly, the wards were no longer in place now that Aunt Petunia and Dudley were…gone. And that meant that he was no longer safe from Voldemort in the Muggle world.
Where's the Order? They should be here by now! But Harry knew that if they hadn't come yet, maybe something had happened, and if something had happened to the Order, then it was likely that Voldemort and his Death Eaters were now looking for him unfettered. He thought about Lupin, Tonks, Moody, and the Weasleys being in danger or worse and his heart began beating rapidly in his chest.
This is NOT going to happen again! I need to get out of here…I need my wand! Harry felt the adrenaline pumping through his body as he broke out into a cold sweat. He pounded on the nurse's call button and moments later a blurry blue and white clad figure was standing at the foot of his bed.
"Excuse me, but I was wondering if there was anything else with my things that I came in with. You know, like my errr…my wa – wallet," he tried to make his voice sound calm.
"Dear, no. Everything of yours was beyond repair. Not to worry, once you're ready to leave next week your uncle will get you some new clothes."
NEXT WEEK! Harry swore under his breath and the nurse jumped.
She walked quickly over to one of the beeping machines they now had him hooked up to and then surveyed Harry with concern. "How do you feel?"
"FINE!" said Harry forcefully. He clenched his left hand as a burning sensation began to build in his chest. An annoying high-pitched beeping sound issued from the machine he was attached to. THINK! How to get out of here!? No wand…no Knight Bus, can't Apparate, no Floo, no Portkey, no gold…
Harry was barely aware that the nurse was holding something in front of his face and saying something. Just leave me alone for a minute! He looked up, agitated, "What?!"
"Harry," she said firmly. "You need to take these." She held out two small white pills and a small paper cup filled with water.
Mind numbing and incapacitating drugs was the last thing that he wanted, considering that he didn't have his wand or any visible way of protecting himself, he could barely stand – let alone run, there were no longer any Wards to protect him from magic, something had happened to the Order, and Voldemort was probably marching down the hall this very moment. He couldn't even be sure if Death Eaters weren't already here. For all he knew, they could be disguised as hospital staff – maybe some of them were Metamorphmagi. Maybe the nurses on this very floor were disguised Death Eaters just waiting for the right moment to finish him off!
"NO. I don't need them," Harry said dismissively. He felt his jaw working.
"Yes, you do," she said firmly, pressing the pills toward him.
"I feel fine!" Harry said tensely through clenched teeth. "The pain is…fine." But the pain wasn't fine; he felt like his chest was going to explode. Small puffs of smoke began rising from the incessantly beeping machine.
"They're not for pain, Harry." She leaned forward and lowered her voice, "I know this must be very hard for you – your aunt's and cousin's death – these will help."
So they thought that he was upset because Aunt Petunia and Dudley had just died. Harry knew that arguing with the nurse was going to get him nowhere; he needed to stay calm. He reached out and took the pills with his left hand.
"Very good. Now you'll feel better," said the nurse after Harry had swallowed the cupful of water. She glanced at the machine worriedly and then tapped on it with her finger. "Strange…"
Harry half closed his eyes and pretended to relax as she removed the suction cups from his chest and then unplugged the machine and wheeled it out of the room hastily. She glanced over her shoulder before disappearing into the hallway. Harry turned away from the door, spat out the pills which had left a disgusting bitter taste in his mouth, and placed them under his pillow. Now, it's time to get out of here.
Harry reached up slowly and pulled the chain that switched off the small florescent light that hung over his bed. The room was drenched in darkness. A buttery yellow light was the only illumination that crept in from the hallway.
Harry looked up at the half-empty bag on the pole that was attached to his arm. He knew that if he was going to go anywhere he would have to get rid of it, but with a non-functional right arm it was going to be difficult. He tore off the tape that held the needle in place with his teeth and then wound his left arm around the metal railings on his bed, wedging the plastic cord between the cold metal and his left knee. He yanked his left arm away, stifling a yell. He clung to the edge of his bed and willed himself to breathe. OK, just move slow.
Moving too fast was going to make him pass out and that definitely would not be good. He protectively covered his right arm with his left and slid slowly out of bed, gasping as his feet touched the cold floor. Harry clutched the railing along his bed and then reached for the wall. The room wavered slightly, but he remained on his feet even though he was hunched over because of the blinding pain in his right side. He almost wished that he had taken those pills.
Harry shuffled along the wall to the door and peered into the hallway cautiously. The hall was long and narrow and a large circular desk cluttered with paper and files sat about ten meters from his room. Voices were coming from the room across the hall.
"No, Mr. Densen, there aren't any lobsters in your bed," said a tired voice. It was his nurse.
"It's a sponge. Yes, you want a nice sponge bath don't you?" said another voice.
Harry heard incoherent mumbling and then a shriek.
"He bit me!"
"Janice, get the –"
Something heavy and metal crashed to the floor and was followed by a multitude of loud voices.
Harry was relieved that the night shift seemed to have their hands full. He crept down the hall, leaning heavily against the wall for support. His eyes darted up and down the corridor as he gripped his side and slowly crossed the hall to the desk, cringing with the effort of walking unsupported. He picked up the phone and dialed the operator, "Connect me to the home phone of Granger –" he said urgently.
What were Hermione's parents' names!??!?! Harry silently cursed himself for not paying more attention to Hermione's Muggle life.
"– Hermione."
There was a pause that seemed to last forever and then operator's nasal voice came on the line, "There is no listing under that name…" The phone was suddenly yanked out of Harry's hand.
"Harry. What are you doing out of bed." It was his nurse. She gripped the receiver and tapped it against her other hand.
"I ahhh…was calling my…errrr…." Maybe he should just pretend that he didn't know what he was doing.
"Where's your IV?"
Great, there goes the imbecile act. "I don't need it anymore," he said quickly.
The nurse raised her eyebrows at him, "Let's get you back to bed." The nurse began to walk towards him around the desk when out of the corner of his eye he saw her nod to another nurse, Janice probably, who picked up the phone and said quietly, "Page doctor Payne and get security on the line –"
He wasn't about to let them give him any more medication. "I don't need any drugs," he said firmly. He reached blindly for something to defend himself with. His fingers closed around the first thing within his reach and he wielded it weakly in front of him. "Don't touch me!" he warned as he leaned desperately against the desk. Harry glanced at his left hand and did a double take. A PEN?!
Two other nurses seemed to materialize out of thin air and grabbed Harry and easily wrestled the pen out of his hand.
"GET OFF ME!" he yelled.
Harry tried to struggle, but every movement caused him to want to vomit and his side and arm were shooting searing bolts of pain through his body. There was a sharp poke in his thigh and he staggered. Something was burning through him and darkness was converging – his field of vision began to shrink until it was just a tiny pin-prick of light. Voices around him swam around him…
"Did you see? He just ripped out his IV!"
"Attends St. Brutus', that one…"
"I knew he was violent and mentally unstable! Janice, you wouldn't believe the things he was saying in his sleep!"
"Did you hear what his uncle was yelling?"
---
Harry opened his eyes. It was very dark – only a small square of light that squatted on the side of his bed cut through the heavy blackness. It was coming from somewhere behind him. He turned his head and groaned – it felt as if he'd been slammed in the head repeatedly by a gigantic Bludger. Harry tried to lift his arm to his face but it refused to move. He glanced down blearily and saw that his feet and left arm were firmly attached to the bed by thick padded straps. He couldn't move! His eyes widened in alarm and then darted frantically throughout the room as he desperately tried to take stock of his surroundings. It was small, no larger than his bedroom at the Dursleys, there were no windows or doors that he could see, and the only object in the room was the bed. They think I'm a violent mental case! Harry snorted in disbelief.
He looked down at himself and noticed that the large bandage around his middle had been changed and it was now soaked with what was probably blood. He figured that he'd probably pulled his stitches during the phone incident. Bloody hell!!!! Now how am I going to get out of here?! Harry began to pull weakly on the restraint that held his left arm.
Just then the door opened and he heard footsteps clicking on the hard floor. Harry squinted and lifted his head. He didn't like the fact that he couldn't see anything, or that these people were approaching him from behind. Two figures emerged around the sides of his bed – one on each side, one was very tall and the other shorter person had a slight limp.
"Hello, Mr. Potter. At last we finally meet." It was a man's voice.
"You don't understand, I don't belong here –" Harry began hurriedly.
"But isn't that what they all say?" the man laughed. "In your case, however, you are quite correct. You certainly don't belong here."
"I need to get out of –" Harry stopped and he felt his stomach lurch as the shorter person leaned over him, causing their features coming into focus. It was the woman who had been following him at the Dursleys', the one he'd mistaken for Tonks! His eyes jumped between the two faces that now loomed over him and he knew. It was them – the ones that Uncle Vernon and Dudley had been ranting about – the ones that wanted to kill him…Death Eaters. But before he could recover from the shock, the woman unsheathed her wand from the depths of her jacket and pointed it directly at Harry's chest.
"Silenco!"
Harry yelled but nothing came out. He struggled against the restraints, ignoring the shooting pains that were searing through his body.
"Wouldn't Dumbledore like to know where his golden boy is?" the man chuckled. He pulled out a small transparent cube no larger than a snitch from his back pocket and placed it in his flat palm in front of Harry. "This will only take a moment, Mr Potter, if you please," he spoke politely as if apologizing in advance for the inconvenience he was about to cause.
Harry tried to jerk away as the woman with strange cloudy eyes reached out and placed a thin spidery hand on his head. The cube began to glow icy blue. She pressed her wand to his temple and spoke in low tones, "Not to worry, we'll take care of everything. You won't remember anything we don't want you to remember."
Harry felt the familiar sensation of someone forcefully penetrating his thoughts and squeezed his eyes shut, pouring everything he had into Occluding his mind. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead as he strained to fight back the pain in his arm and side. Only this time it was a hundred times worse than when Snape had attacked him during his Occulmency lessons.
He could feel a terrible pressure pushing against his skull as he fought with all his might to expel her from his mind – it was as if there was a balloon expanding uncontrollably in his brain. Small lights began to flicker behind his eyelids and a strange sort of low chanting reverberated through his head. Harry lost all sense of time as he desperately tried to concentrate on repelling the presence crushing his thoughts, but as the chanting intensified and Harry began to feel numb from the inside out. It was like someone had injected those horrible Muggle drugs directly into his brain. The pressure continued to intensify that he was sure his head would explode. Then there was loud pop and a swirling sensation overtook him as she finally broke through his defense. She flipped through his mind like a dealer would shuffle cards and Harry lost all sense of where he was as memories flickered behind his eyelids…
Ron, Hermione, and him hiding in Filtch's broom closet under the Invisibility Cloak, hands clasped over their mouths, shaking with silent laughter…Oliver Wood yelling up at him, through cupped hands, from the middle of the Quidditch pitch…Neville blowing up his cauldron during Snape's potion class, sending purple slime hurling through the air directly at Malfoy…Him practicing the Patronus Charm with Lupin in his classroom…
Suddenly the flipping stopped and was replaced by a swirling and sucking sensation. Harry opened his eyes blearily and watched in silent horror as the thin strand of silver that clung to the end of the woman's wand was deposited into the cube. Harry tried to scream but nothing issued from his mouth. He was staring at a distorted image of himself and Lupin that was being projected onto the sides of the cube from its interior. They were stealing his memories.
She raised her wand to his temple again. Harry struggled weakly; he was breathing heavily, his head was throbbing, and his heart felt like it was going to erupt from his chest.
NO!
Harry concentrated on Occulding his mind once more as she began to invade him again. As the chanting began to pound through his head, a strange pressure began to build in his chest and his throat began to constrict. Harry felt her pause and the pressure subside slightly and he refocused all his energy. He had no idea what he was doing but at least it was something. Images began to flash through his mind, but there was no explosion or swirling like before.
Him washing Uncle Vernon's company car and Dudley spraying him relentlessly with the hosepipe…Snape glaring at down at him during an Occulmency lesson…
Then there was a powerful sucking sensation in the top of his head and he was suddenly outside of his body and watching the scene from the side of the room. Harry looked down at himself in disbelief. He was standing there as if everything was fine; there wasn't any pain, there was no cast, no bandages. But how can I be here when I'm still on the bed!? he thought desperately.
He watched himself bound and writhing on the bed. The witch's grey eyes, wide and unblinking, were locked on his face and her wand was pressed to his temple. There was a terrible burning smell. The tall wizard was holding the blue glowing cube in his palm and was looking away with an unreadable expression on his face. Fierce anger surged through him and his chest began to burn. It was as though a hot white ball of fire had ignited and it began to spread to his arms and legs.
And then he was suddenly back lying on the bed and he was on fire. "NO!" his voice tore through the dark room. Harry screamed. A searing pain gripped his chest as a surge of white-hot energy tore through his right arm and the witch and wizard were thrown across the room where they collided against the wall as if a giant invisible hand had slapped them.
Harry felt the padded restraints fall away as a wave of intense coldness overtook him and he shivered uncontrollably. He was unaware of someone slipping silently into the room as he slumped sideways and fell off the bed and onto the sterile linoleum floor. He knew no more.
***
A/N: Another huge thank you to Dianne and Allie who have made my writing look very polished with their eagle-eyes!