Growing Into Myself
Chapter 1-The Beginning Of Misery
The cool morning breeze ruffled Harry's hair as he stood outside his house on Hantford Lane. Sighing, he turned to face the garden, once tended by loving hands. Now, the green was fading into a sickly brown. The loving hands had faded away.
Harry turned away. The sight of the garden was enough to make anyone look away with either sadness or disgust. It was simply a natural reaction.
The lights turned on in the neighbor's house, but he wasn't interested anymore. Turning around, Harry headed back to the porch, where he sat down to watch the sun rise.
The sky was full of soft lavenders and the perky oranges of daylight. Even the sunset was too much to bear. He headed back into the dreary house.
Sitting at the wooden table, Harry glared at the phone, whose ringing had only brought misfortune.
As though on cue, the phone began its hateful ringing.
Getting up against his will, Harry checked the caller ID. The hospital. Again. Where they trying to bill him again?
Furiously, Harry picked it up, and called, "Hi."
"This is St. Mungo's-"
"What do you want?" Harry interrupted.
"Umm…Right."
"WHAT!" Harry yelled into the receiver.
"Sorry, Sir. Is this Mr. Potter?"
"I said what do you want?"
"Look, Mr. Potter, can you come? Immediately?" The man on the other end of the phone said uncomfortably.
"Sure. Bye." He slammed the receiver on the hook.
Driving the car recklessly, Harry wondered how Muggles dealt with these things! Every day! Grumbling, Harry drove the car into a shopping center, and walked a quarter mile to St. Mungo's Hospital.
Inside, the witch at the direction counter greeted him monotonously. Harry nodded and waved, but he felt a pang of sympathy for her. He wondered if she had any family.
He went up to Floor 5, and waited outside Room 5B. Doctor Thompson came out minutes later.
"Good morning, Harry. I assume you got our call." He said politely.
"Yes Sir." Harry mumbled.
"You can see her now. She might have to go into surgery for..Well..You know." Doc walked away to tend to his next patient.
The door to Room 5B creaked open. Inside was the figure of a woman, and Harry sat down in a random chair. The lights were significantly dimmed, and Harry had to grope just find the bedside.
His heart felt like it was being wrenched out. He felt bad, so bad, for her.
And she would never know it.
Harry simply sat in the chair, reading his novel. But he wasn't concentrating on the words in the book, but the words spiraling through his head.
"Surgery…" Doc's voice said clearly. Harry wouldn't be able to afford much more treatment. After that, everything would go downhill.
She stirred, and gave a small moaning sound. Harry looked away. Who was he, coming here everyday, and yet he couldn't do anything?
How had he ever destroyed Voldemort with this horrifying attitude?
"You didn't!" A voice in his head shrieked itself shrilly.
How could he live up to his name when he couldn't even save that weak figure in the hospital bed?
Harry furiously fumbled into his bag and pulled out his wallet. He could go buy a soda, nothing that serious could happen in just 3 minutes. Harry decided reasonably.
Outside, Harry stopped by the vending machine. It clinked around when he dropped the Knut into it. It sloshed into the other coins.
A whirring hand siren that a surgeon was holding dashed past. Swearing silently, Harry sulked back to the fifth floor.
On the way back, he heard two old witches muttering.
"Did you hear?" One said. "Poor Harry Potter can't save his wife! It's such a pity that it's a case nobody else's' ever got! I feel real sad to think he saved us, but that we can't return the favor!"
The other nodded affirmatively.
Harry depressedly walked back to Room 5B.
But there was too much excitement way down the corridor to get anywhere near the room. Grumbling, Harry waited in the bubbly crowd.
"Didija hear?" One mother shrieked to another.
"No what?" The other called back.
"In the other end of the hall!" Mother #1 replied. But Harry didn't hear the rest.
He was running through the crowd, shoving his way to her room.
At Room 5R, Harry ran smack into, guess who, Doctor Thompson. "Harry! I was looking for you!" He grabbed the surprised Harry by the shoulders. "Hermione's in surgery, wait in the surgery's lobby!" Doc turned and ran. "Coming through! Doctor coming through!" You could hear him bellowing down the hall.
Harry stood leaning against the wall in shock, even after the crowd dispatched.
He had been too late. The famous Harry Potter. Too late.
All just because he wanted a soda.
