HELP!

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A/N WARNING! There will be scenes of an explicit sexual nature in later chapters. If you are under age, or if sexual scenes offend you, then please DO NOT READ THOSE CHAPTERS. You will be warned again at the start of the chapters.

Chapter 1 The Angel of St. Mungo's

Harry Potter's life was just beginning to reach a point of normality. His younger years spent with the Dursleys, terrible as they were, are only a distant memory. He attended Durmstrang Institute for his wizard training. Dumbledore felt that with the prophecy pending, the more Harry knew about and understood dark magic, the better able he would be when the time came to face Voldemort. Harry did defeat him at the battle of Hogwarts, but it took a great slice out of Harry's life. Two years it took Harry to recover. Two years to fill a great hole in his memories.

After much soul searching and fighting his ever present feeling of being an outsider, Harry applied to and was accepted at the Ministries' Auror Academy. There, he fit in nicely. He had found a home. After graduating first in his class, Harry quickly advanced to the position squadron leader and special operations commander.

Harry was very happy with his life as an Auror. There he met and became fast friends with fellow Auror Ronald Weasley. And being 'the boy who saved the wizarding world', he had just about every young wizard girl falling at his feet. Harry dated many, and enjoyed them all. But still, his heart felt empty. The sex was great, the girls were beautiful, but not one of them could capture his heart.

Yes, Harry's life was good, until that fateful day. On what should have been a routine assignment, his squad was unexpectedly attacked by a band of marauders. Badly injured, crushed against a cement wall, Harry was rushed, unconscious and bleeding profusely, to St. Mungo's. He had suffered a severe concussion, and his hands and arms had been pulverized. He also suffered internal injuries as well, including two broken ribs and a lacerated liver.

Harry was unconscious for two weeks. When he finally awoke, still in a dazed and confused state, a young and very beautiful redhead was leaning over him, talking to him and encouraging him to rejoin the conscious world.

"Mister Potter, can you hear me? Open your eyes, Mister Potter. Come on, you can do it now. That's good. A little more, Mister Potter. That's good now. "

Harry thought that he had died and gone to heaven. 'Who is this angel, this most beautiful redhead leaning over me?' he whispered to himself.

"Very good Mister Potter. Welcome back. I am going to call a Healer to talk to you. I'll be right back."

As Harry slowly became aware of his surroundings, he tried to bring his hands down to his head, but he could not move them. His arms were pined to the bed above his head. He couldn't see them or even feel them. He started to panic, and began to thrash his body around the bed. Just then he felt soft hands on his torso, settling his body and encouraging him to relax.

"It's alright Mister Potter, It's ok. Look at me, Mister Potter. Your at St. Mungo's. You have been badly injured. Please try to settle down and relax Mister Potter. We don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Mister Potter." Harry heard a strong masculine voice talking now. "Mister Potter, can you hear me?"

Harry looked around and saw his redheaded angel standing beside his bed. Then he noticed a tall man with glasses and wearing a white coat. "Mister Potter. I am Healer Poundstone. Can you hear me Mister Potter?"

Still confused and unsure of where he was, Harry managed to focus his eyes on the Healer. "I can hear you," Harry said in a very unsure voice. "Where am I?"

"You are in St. Mungo's, Mister Potter. You were badly injured."

"Oh shite, I don't remember. What happened? And where the bloody hell are my hands?"

"Mister Potter, you are a very lucky man. If you had been taken to a hospital in London, they would have had to amputate both your arms to save you. When you arrived here, we were able to stop the bleeding and treat you with Blood-Replenishing Potion. If your arrival had been delayed by even ten minutes, you would have died."

"So where the hell are my hands?" Harry cried."

"Both of your hands and your forearms were badly crushed. Every bone in your fingers were pulverized. At first, our surgeons wanted to amputate your arms, but fortunately, we have a young surgeon on staff who specializes in hand repair. You were in surgery for six hours while he worked on you. We won't know for weeks if he was successful. We had to put both your hands in plaster casts to prevent any movement from displacing the joint settings. Your arms are secured above your head because you were thrashing around so violently that we were afraid you would do more damage to them. We will release them once you have settled down."

Harry was now in a state of shock. What am I going to do now, he pondered. "Healer Pound er, Wait a minute. That's a bloody mouthful. Is there something else I can call you that's simpler?"

The Healer laughed. "Your Auror friends warned us of your caustic personality, Mister Potter. So why don't you just call me 'DOC'."

"Yea, that's a lot better. So, what do I have to look forward to Doc, without the use of my hands?"

"Honestly, I don't know what to tell you, Mister Potter."

"Doc, My name is Harry."

"Yes, I know that. But patient Healer protocol dictates that we address you formally."

"Well that's bloody fucking stupid. So come on, what about my hands? Tell me something. Worst case, best case. Give me something to go on."

"Ok, Mister Potter. Worst case is that you will not have any use of you hands, ever. You will not be able to grip or hold anything. Essentially, they will be useless. Best case, you will regain full use of both hands. The truth is somewhere in between. I can tell you this though, which ever way it turns out, you are in for a long period of rehabilitation."

Harry thought about this, long and hard. What the bloody hell do I do now, he thought. Why me? He was holding back the urge to burst out in tears. OK Potter, he thought to himself as his resolve slowly built up inside him. Grow a pair. You can face this. You've faced worse. Be a man. Get on with it.

Harry took a deep breath. "Ok Doc. Thanks for being honest with me. In the meantime, if and when I escape from this bloody place, how am I going to care for myself?"

"Again Mister Potter, I don't know. We have people on staff who will help you with this when the time comes. In the mean time, our Mediwitches will do everything possible to help in your recovery. Miss Weasley here will be your primary care-giver until such time that you are released. That's all I can tell you for now. If you have any other questions, ask Miss Weasley. She is more than competent, and will assist you in any way that she can. I will be stopping in to see you every day. If that is all for now, good day Mister Potter."

Harry laid back against his pillow, his eyes closed tightly, his heart beating wildly. This is it, his brain was processing. I'm done.

End chapter 1