*Things are pretty dark for Harry in this chapter, but will lighten up soon...
...
Harry pulled off his muddy, wet Auror robes, dropping them on the floor in a soggy pile, and staggered over to his chair. He felt completely drained.
Ron looked just as bad, his skin pale and drawn. He grabbed a towel and rubbed it briskly over his face and hair, leaving it sticking up in places. "I could really use some hot tea and a sandwich."
Not caring that the towel was a bit damp, Harry used it on his own hair. "Well, it's your turn. I got it last time."
Rolling his eyes, Ron stood up to take off his own robes and made his way to the office kitchenette. At this time of night, hardly anyone else was in the office and the canteen was closed. Luckily, the kitchen stocked some basics.
Casting a warming spell, Harry felt a lot better, although his stomach was grumbling loudly. In their line of work, they used up a lot of energy and couldn't always take meal breaks. The stake out had gone on much longer than expected, but at least they had caught the thief in the end.
Pulling out a fresh quill and the forms they would need to complete before going home, Harry sighed in frustration. He loved so many aspects of being an Auror. Investigating leads, finding clues, hunting down and capturing suspects. But he loathed doing all the paperwork and reports, especially when all he wanted was a huge meal, a hot shower and ten hours of sleep.
How bloody long was Ron going to take making that tea? Harry glared towards the kitchenette, hearing Ron fumbling around and likely screwing it all up somehow. He knew he was just grumpy due to low blood sugar and tiredness.
On the corner of his desk was his overflowing inbox of mail, forms and files stacked haphazardly. His gaze landed on an opened box perched on top, and he picked it up to look closer. Something must have arrived during his shift and a coworker left it for him.
The simple cardboard box wasn't too large, and any outer wrappings must have been removed. Harry lifted the green tissue paper and was surprised to see three apples inside; one green, one gold, and one red. They looked shiny and perfect, and Harry's stomach gave another rumble at the sight of them. Surely it wouldn't hurt to nibble on one until Ron came back with their snack.
The red apple looked the most appealing, and Harry picked it up, putting the box down on the desk. He took a big bite, his teeth crunching through the firm peel, tasting the sweet juiciness of the fruit. It was delicious, and Harry made a small pleased sound before taking another bite.
"Hey! I was barely gone five minutes and you are eating something else?" Ron grumbled, setting the tray laden with a teapot, mugs, sandwiches and biscuits onto his desk with a thump.
Harry grinned at the good-natured complaints and helped unload the tray. "There's more if you want one." He gestured to the box, but Ron seemed content with his sandwich.
Taking a long sip of tea, Harry savored the warmth seeping through him. He had needed that.
Setting the mug down, he picked the apple back up to take another bite. His fingers slipped, and the fruit dropped to the floor, rolling under a coworker's desk. "Fuck!"
Ron laughed. "Serves you right."
Harry shot a glare at his friend, before getting on his knees to peer under the desk. "It will be fine if I rinse it off." It was worth the bother.
"Woah..." A wave of dizziness had Harry grabbing the edge of a desk to keep from falling over. "I feel strange."
Setting down his half-eaten sandwich, Ron's hands reached out for his shoulders but he wasn't quick enough. Harry fell to the floor, completely unconscious.
...
"What the hell happened?" Hermione asked, her concerned eyes sweeping over Ron quickly.
Ron shook his head, sinking back on to the cushioned bench. "I have no bloody idea. One minute he was chatting normally with me, the next he was passed out on the floor. When he didn't come to, I apparated us to St. Mungos. They've been working on him since then."
Nodding, Hermione went to talk to the Healers. Her friend Delilah was working and Ron knew she would get to the bottom of this better than he had.
Within ten minutes, she returned, her face looked troubled. Instinctively, he took her hand in his, rubbing it soothingly, and she leaned into his side. They both needed the comfort. "It's not good, I'm afraid."
"He's still unconscious?" Ron's eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. He had been here over an hour. They had both had many visits to St. Mungos in their line of work, but hadn't had any major injuries. So far.
Hermione nodded slowly. "They don't think he's unconscious. Or in a coma. But it's something similar."
"I already told them exactly what happened. A routine stake out. The suspect was not very good at magic. He was easy to take down, once he showed up. He didn't attack or hex us..." Ron wracked his memories for anything unusual. The hospital staff had already questioned him thoroughly.
"Harry wasn't acting strange or anything?" Hermione asked, her mind obviously searching just as hard for answers.
Ron shook his head, feeling miserable. "No, no. Tired and cold, we both were. Hungry...he was so hungry he didn't even wait for me to make him a sandwich."
Hermione stilled. "What? He ate something you didn't?"
"Just an apple. He had a box of them on his desk." Ron shrugged.
She jumped up. "Come on, let's get them."
Ten minutes later, they were in the office. Ron waved to the box on Harry's desk, and Hermione approached it cautiously, her wand out. He took out his own wand, performing his normal scans for malicious magic, but saw nothing amiss.
"There are two apples here. Where's the one Harry was eating?" Hermione was looking around, and Ron was soon searching with her.
Crawling around on the floor didn't unearth it either. "Perhaps the cleaning staff have been in, and threw it away?"
Standing up, Hermione brushed the dust off her knees. "This place hasn't been cleaned for at least a couple days."
"Well, it didn't just disappear, did it?" Ron felt frustrated.
Opening a magical containment unit, Hermione carefully maneuvered the apple box with magic, not touching it directly. She closed the unit with a snap. "It's hard to say, isn't it? Let's take these apples back to St. Mungos. Maybe there's a link to what happened with Harry."
...
Three days later, Delilah came into Harry's room, and nodded at Hermione and Ron in greeting. They looked tired, barely taking turns to go home to sleep a little, shower and change, before coming back to be at Harry's side.
"We have run all the regular tests and had the specialists see him. We have come up empty, so far." Delilah sat on the edge of Harry's bed, looking down at the couple with deep concern.
Ron was distressed. "How can that be? It's been three days, already! You haven't found anything at all?"
Hermione squeezed his hand, trying to calm him. "What about those apples? Anything odd about them?"
"Not so far. We are continuing to examine them."
"I still haven't found out where they came from. They must have been given to Harry somehow, since he wouldn't have brought them from home in a box. But all packages to the offices are fully scanned. Nothing dangerous could get through that." Ron had been in contact with his manager, investigating this side of things.
Hermione nodded in agreement. "That's for sure. Aurors make a lot of enemies, and Harry probably has more than most."
Ever since the end of the war, they had learned to be very cautious around mail and packages. There were many sore losers who would delight in causing trouble from afar. Luckily, most of the worst ones had left the country to establish new lives in Europe or further afield.
"We don't know the exact cause, but we can see the effect. He is being drawn into a deeper unconscious state each day, almost like a sleeping death. He is getting less responsive." Delilah said, her eyes remorseful.
Hermione and Ron gasped, and she turned into his comforting hug. It took a couple minutes for them both to gather themselves.
"You mean he could...die?" Hermione blinked back her tears. She had to be strong for Harry now.
Delilah reached out, touching her friend's arm. "Yes, if things progress the way they are going, it's a definite possibility. And without knowing the cause, our treatments are useless."
Ron swallowed hard. "What can we do?" It was so hard to come to terms with this, his vibrant friend who a week ago was fighting three wizards at once, grinning at Ron when he had them all stunned at his feet.
"Sometimes people in comas respond better to familiar environments and people. Hearing voices they know." Delilah said softly.
Hermione nodded slowly. "So, we can take him home? Get him as comfortable as possible and talk to him lots? Is that all we can do?"
"Sorry to be so blunt about this, but friend to friend, if these are his last few days, isn't that what he would want?" Delilah sighed. "We can supply a monitor for his vitals and a port key to bring him right back if he gets worse."
...
It was easier having him at home. Ron and Hermione took leaves from their jobs and took turns sitting with Harry. Friends stopped in often, and they left Harry alone with them to say what they wanted to say. Most left his bedroom after thirty minutes with tear-swollen eyes, hugging Ron and Hermione tight before they left.
Hermione was not giving up, of course. She had the dining room table covered with research books on all sorts of subjects, often consulting with experts she had come to know over the years. Even when she sat with Harry, she often took a book in with her, reading to him and asking him questions. Pondering things aloud.
Ron brought out his old scrapbooks, flipping through the photos his mother had carefully organized, the clippings from the newspapers. So many of their adventures together at Hogwarts, and on the last years as Aurors. He talked about old times to Harry, hoping just hearing Ron's voice taking about good times might bring him back.
But day after day, he got slowly worse. Delilah did daily house calls as a favor to Hermione, and never had encouraging news.
...
"Ron! Get Ginny here right away!" Hermione threw open the door to the guest bedroom, startling Ron so much he dropped the book he had been holding.
He looked over at Harry, somehow expecting him to open his eyes to Hermione's excited command out of pure instinct, but he was unmoving as ever. "Ginny? Why Ginny?" Ron turned back to his fiancée, glancing down to the old book she held in one hand. It was a relief to see her looking excited and hopeful, after a week of quiet dread and no good news.
She grabbed his arm, dragging him over to the fireplace in the living room. "Just get her here! I'll tell you both at once!" She spun away, back to her books before Ron could ask more questions.
It took reaching his mother to find out where Ginny was competing, and going through some other people before he was able to speak to her. She promised to be there as soon as an emergency port key could be arranged.
She was the only member of the Weasley family who hadn't been by in the last week. Her team's schedule had her traveling a lot, and she had been planning to stop by on the weekend when they were back in England. It said a lot about how much her relationship with Harry had faded over the years, reduced to polite friends only. Why did Hermione think it was so important that she come now?
...
His sister looked tanned and fit, sitting on their sofa as Ron handed her a cup of tea with a splash of milk.
"Shall I just go in to see him now?" Ginny's tone was calm, but Ron knew her well enough to hear the tremble she tried to hide.
Tucking her leg underneath her as she sat down, Hermione shook her head. "Not just yet. Look," she sighed, taking Ginny's hand in her own. "I know things between Harry and you have been...distant...since the war."
"Distant? She's in another country most of the time!" Ron scoffed, getting an irritated glance from his sister.
Ginny pulled her hand away from Hermione's, shifting slightly in discomfort. "There is no 'Harry and me'. Not for years. We have both moved on. Why have you called me back here?"
Hermione made a calming motion to both of them, years of dealing with the Weasley siblings giving her the advantage. "But you two were a couple, back then. That's why I asked Ron to bring you here."
Grabbing the old book, she flipped through it impatiently. "The only thing that has come up in all my research is a possible connection to the apple. There's an old German story, about a woman going into a 'sleepless death' after taking a bite from a red apple."
"Sleepless death?" Ron cringed at the words.
"Yes, but there was a way out of it, in the story. Love's first kiss." Hermione shut the book, placing it on the floor before grabbing Ginny's hand again. "I know it's a long shot, but I'm desperate to try anything at this point."
Ron picked up the book, staring at it incredulously. "This is a fairy tale book! Are you seriously taking Harry to be some virginal princess awaiting his prince to save him from some bloody dragon? You expect him to wake up from a kiss?"
Hermione flipped her hair back over her shoulder, glaring at Ron. "Shut up."
Ginny shook her head, pulling her hand away again. "You said 'love's first kiss'. I don't want to shock you, but that ship sailed a long, long time ago. Plus, I don't love him that way any more. He's more like a brother now."
Hermione stood, holding her hand imploringly out to Ginny. "Please? Would you just try? What could it hurt, giving him one little kiss? You are here already and if it doesn't work, you can still sit and talk to him afterwards."
Reluctantly, the professional Quidditch player stood and followed Hermione towards the guest bedroom.
...
An hour later, Ron gave his sister a tight hug goodbye, before she scooped up some floo powder to go visit their parents.
Hermione's arms were crossed over her chest. "Do you know how to get ahold of Cho Chang?"
...
The next few days were a flurry of contacting people and having them pop around to see Harry. Hermione was inexhaustible when it came to research, talking to all of Harry's contacts to find whom he had dated over the years. Ron thought it was useless to bring them to the house when it hadn't worked with Ginny or Cho. But Hermione had an idea stuck in her head and she wouldn't stop until she had exhausted all the options.
...
-A/N: This is my first Harry Potter fandom story. I am not a complete expert, so gentle corrections are appreciated. Lately, I've been reading a lot of Drarry fanfics and have been intrigued about how the boys were doing after Hogwarts.
-This fic is complete in draft form with five chapters, about 18K words or so. I'll be posting frequently.
-I took inspiration from a well known fairy tale, but the story goes a lot of different places with it.