Disclaimer: Harry Potter, most characters and the magical world as depicted, belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 2:
Hermione went to Ginny. She thought it was time that Harry had a proper medical examination again, even though he appeared quite well these days. She knew that Harry would avoid it if possible, but she also knew that if Ginny gave orders, he would obey. But Ginny knew her husband, knew what pleasure he was taking in his renewed vigour and strength, and could see no need for Harry to be reminded of the years of ill health he had suffered. Harry was left in peace.
The Ministry of Magic would also have been very interested in seeing a medical report on Harry Potter. Harry's spell-breaking work had brought the English Ministry enormous prestige. Wizardkind worldwide knew of Harry Potter, and the work that he did that no-one else could do. Harry Potter was a valuable commodity, and even Amelia Bones could forget that he was also a person with rights. But approaches to Healer Hermione Granger, and to Healer John Rutledge, and even to Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, had not resulted in any information being given to the Ministry.
No-one was brave enough to suggest to Harry himself that he be checked over by the Ministry Healer, so the most recent information on file was when he had collapsed years ago, and the opportunity taken to examine him while unconscious. But that information was out of date now, and it did not look like there would be another chance.
The chance did come. But it was not until after Alec McVeigh retired, and Kingsley Shacklebolt took his place as head of the elite auror department of the Ministry of Magic. It was several months after the Garot incident. Harry was doing his regular spell-breaking stint, when he came across an unusual patient. Hermione and Ron, with their small son Ben, were out of the country, and Healer June Hopkirk was acting as her locum. It was a big day, with over twenty patients, most of them from other countries.
This man had been hit with the pumpkin-head curse some months before. Harry had never seen this curse before, and was appalled. Instead of a head, a pumpkin sat on the man's shoulders. It could have been funny if it were not so tragic. The man-vegetable was steered in by a helper and pushed into a chair. There was no independent movement from the man. It could have been a zombie. Harry just looked, going pale himself. Some of the spells he had broken had terrible effects, but he had never seen a man that was no longer a man.
At last, he got out his wand, concentrating, striving to feel the spell. He couldn't seem to get a grip on it. It was like there was no handle to use as a starting point. He tried his magic, with a general thought that the man should be fixed. But nothing happened except a tingling in the air that made the mediwizard flinch. Jebedee had felt it before, and ignored the phenomenon.
Harry stopped, but he was not ready to give up. He directed that the pumpkin-head be set to wait, back in the waiting room, and he'd finish all the other patients, and come back to this one.
Harry's remaining patients that day tended to look rather pale and sick. The pumpkin-head was not a nice sight. Without wasting any time, Harry attended to his other patients. Jebedee was even more efficient than usual steering them quickly out the door, and the patients were glad to go, averting their eyes from the weird sight in the waiting room.
"The pumpkin-head, June," he said to the healer. "I've never seen or heard of such a thing. Do you know anything about it?"
"Only that none of them have ever been cured, and a little about their care."
"How do they live?" asked Harry, "They can't eat or drink, or even breathe."
"No-one knows how they live. But they usually waste away after two or three years."
"It's awful," Harry was saying. "That man can't see or hear - it must be like an unimaginably awful imprisonment!" And he stared into the distance, suddenly shuddering. "Do you know anything else, June, anything at all?"
"That's about it," said Healer Hopkirk.
Harry turned to Jebedee, watching from his corner. "What about you? Do you know anything."
"Well, it's viewed as a killing, and the penalty is the same." He continued, "I've never seen it either, but when we were taught about it in training, the lecturer said that instances of the curse tends to go in cycles - sometimes none, sometimes a few in a short time. But that's all I know."
"He seems to be easy enough to manage. I'd like to see the carer, without the patient. Sometimes it's not easy to tell how much a person knows of what's happening."
So the carer was brought into the room, and the patient left outside, unmoving, apparently unknowing. Harry quizzed the carer about the care of a pumpkin-head. It seemed they lasted longer if their feet were bathed in water now and then, and that they were normally tractable and quiet. The carer stated that a pumpkin-head had never been cured, but said that the relatives of this one wanted to try anyway.
"OK, bring him in," said Harry, and the pumpkin-head was returned to the room. Harry looked back at the man, shuddering. He was thinking again of an awful imprisonment. Unable to see, to taste, to hear - merciful if he were unable to think and feel, but who knew?
Again he concentrated, trying with all his being to feel the spell, or even to feel the person imprisoned inside the monster. He failed in that, but he hadn't finished yet. Sometimes magic works even if the wizard doesn't know what he's doing. He raised his wand, and slowly and gradually, the three people with him felt that tingling of magic increasing in the air. Healer Hopkirk recoiled again, backing away from Harry against the wall. The patient's carer bolted, disappearing out the door. Harry didn't appear to notice. Only Jebedee refused to show his trepidation as the weird feeling in the air became stronger and stronger.
Harry was just standing there, gazing at his patient, wand raised, and the feeling in the air became a discernible humming that seemed to pull at the heartstrings. It went on and on, ever intensifying. The pumpkin-head just stood where he had been placed, apparently feeling nothing, knowing nothing.
Harry Potter gave everything he could in an attempt to free the person inside the monster. But finally the humming died, the tingling left the air, and Harry lowered his wand. "I can't do it," he said, and he went and sat down rather limply in the chair.
The healer went to the door to call the pumpkin-head's carer, and the auror took the arm of the thing and raised it. The man-vegetable stood, as if perfectly familiar with this communication, and was easily guided out the door, leaving Harry looking rather white-faced in his chair.
June Hopkirk was talking to the carer, Jebedee standing behind her, when there was a thud from Hermione's office. Harry was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. He had fainted. He was all right, according to Healer Hopkirk's observations - he'd just exhausted himself, she said. June Hopkirk had seen Harry collapse like this before, but he'd been still very ill then.
Jebedee Shacklebolt was seeing an opportunity. He knew full well that the Ministry wanted to gain an overall picture of Harry's health. He'd earned himself some praise when he had brought Harry back to the Ministry, unconscious, on another occasion, and the Ministry Healer had had the chance to give him a full examination. So he told Healer Hopkirk, using his deepest, most reassuring and yet authoritative voice, the voice that he had inherited from his father, that he would take Harry back to the Ministry, where his wife worked, and that way, he could be looked after properly. Harry was showing no sign of returning consciousness, and Healer Hopkirk nodded her consent.
Jebedee gathered up Harry in his arms, as he had once before, although this time feeling that the man was distinctly heavier and more solid that he had been on that occasion, and he apparated with Harry into a small inner office of the Ministry. The unconscious man was deposited onto a narrow bed, and the Ministry Healer arrived at Harry's side within minutes.
Jebedee's father, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Chief Auror, arrived also, waiting and watching as the healer went about his business.
Healer Smythe looked at Harry Potter with some anxiety, quickly feeling pulse and peeling back an eyelid to estimate how deep was the faint. It seemed safe enough, and he proceeded to have Jebedee help him remove his patient's cape and open his shirt. He used his half dozen expensive gadgets and monitors then to get a very clear picture of the health of the Ministry's pet wizard. He wrote down his figures, wasting no time, and then had Jebedee raise the unconscious man so that he could gain an idea of the degree of musculature of the body and shoulders.
Healer Smythe was not quite quick enough, and Harry opened his eyes as Jebedee lowered him gently onto the bed. Harry blinked at the ceiling for a short moment, before looking around at the surrounding men. Quickly he sat up, swinging his feet to the side of the bed. "You!" he said, glaring at Smythe.
The healer quickly backed off, and suddenly turned, almost running out the door.
Harry was looking furious now, getting to his feet, and glaring at Jebedee and at Kingsley. The forehead scar was very prominent, as it tended to be when he was fighting. But he was also still very white, and swaying as he stood.
Kingsley tried to calm him, using his deep voice, which could be almost hypnotic. "You fainted, Harry. We just had the Ministry healer have a quick look at you to make sure you were all right before we got Ginny."
Harry said, and his voice trembled with his fury, "If Smythe is ever allowed near me again, I may very likely do something terrible to him!" and he sat down again on the bed before he fell. His glance fell on the instruments lying on the nearby desk. "A quick look, eh?" he said bitterly. But his head was spinning, and he knew there was no real danger here, no matter how he might resent the intrusion. So he lay back down again, momentarily closing his eyes.
Kingsley said to Jebedee, "Will you fetch Harry's wife, Ginny? She's in Muggle Affairs," and Kingsley quietly gathered up Smythe's notebook and pocketed it. He didn't want Harry trying to destroy the figures. He gathered up the instruments too, putting them back in their packages, and dropping them back into Smythe's bag.
Harry was watching him, although still lying down. "Bloody spies," he said bitterly, sitting up again, slowly and carefully, and reaching for his cape that was folded on the table. He checked that his wand was there, and then started readjusting his clothing. He was still very white, and when he got up from the bed, it was only to conjure himself a comfortable chair and sit down again.
Kingsley had tensed when he drew his wand, and Harry gave him a sideways glance.
Kingsley sat beside him in one of the less comfortable Ministry chairs. But Harry was leaning his head back in the high-backed easy chair he had conjured for himself. He felt horrible - clammy and sick. But he reckoned there was not much wrong with him, he'd just made himself over-tired, as he'd done before. "What do you know about pumpkin-heads?" he suddenly demanded.
Kingsley was surprised. "Why?"
"Didn't Jebedee tell you? That's why I fainted. I tried too hard to cure one."
Kingsley had to shift mental gears, and raked through his memory. He was older than Harry, and remembered a time when the curse had been used several times. "It's supposed to be difficult to do, and impossible to undo. They usually last a few years, but do not appear to be still human. The penalty is the same as the penalty for a killing."
Harry only grunted. "I'd like to see Minister Bones, if it's convenient," Harry said then.
Kingsley rose and taking the notebook in his pocket, and Smythe's bag of gadgets in his hand, he went out the door. He didn't go on the errand himself, but hailed a passing employee and told him to fetch a couple of aurors for him straightaway. Meantime he returned to the room where Harry had leaned his head back again and closed his eyes.
A few minutes later, aurors Mark Johnston, Charles Mason, and Trevor Jackson knocked on the door. Kingsley issued his instructions, and also gave the notebook and the bag of instruments to Mason to return as quickly as possible to the healer.
The next knock on the door was Ginny. "They said you collapsed."
Harry stood and smiled at her. "I just fainted, is all. I tackled a spell too tough for me."
"Do you need me then?" Ginny queried.
"Later, if you don't mind. You can take me home when you finish work."
Ginny was looking at him and reached up a hand, and felt his still sweaty forehead. But Harry murmured, "I'm fine. I just want a word with Amelia, and I'll come and find you when it's time."
"I'll go back to work then?" asked Ginny, and Harry smiled and nodded.
Amelia Bones bustled in then. Jebedee had warned her that Harry was not very happy, but the Minister thought she knew the way around him, and came with a helper bringing coffee, and a tray of rolls and sandwiches. Harry was still feeling thoroughly annoyed, but he also felt himself starving hungry. Almost automatically, he took a sandwich from those offered, but he was still frowning at her. "Healer Bruce Smythe," he said, "Don't ever allow him near me again!"
Amelia Bones said blankly, "Why?"
"He signed the committal papers for Fudge, when Fudge tried to have me put away. He and a chap called Barry Batterham. He has no ethics!"
Amelia said slowly, "Dumbledore said he was not going to tell you who they were."
"He didn't. I found out a different way. But if you have to ignore my rights to privacy, at least organise someone with some decency!"
"I'm very sorry, Harry," said Amelia Bones, in a very apologetic voice. But Harry knew perfectly well that Smythe's findings would still be noted.
He was quite right. Smythe had been quietly requested to keep right out of sight, but to prepare a full report without delay. He was not to go home until Minister Bones could see him. Meantime, she repeatedly apologised to Harry, plied him with food, and tried to distract him with questions about his studies.
There was an hour to go before Ginny was off duty, and while Harry no longer felt as bad as he had done, he knew that it would not be a good idea for him to apparate. The pumpkin-head was still on his mind, and while Amelia was so bent on pacifying him, he thought he might as well get a favour from her. He asked if she minded if he went down to the Department of Mysteries. He wanted to get some information.
Amelia hesitated. He still looked rather white and ill, and she had not yet had Smythe's report. Harry only had to raise an eyebrow, and she quickly agreed. She didn't think that she should try Harry's patience further for some time to come. "Kingsley, you might go with him." she instructed. "Make sure that Harry gets full cooperation."
So Harry was able to question the most learned wizards in the land, and while he did hear some interesting theories of exactly what was happening after a man's head had been turned into a pumpkin, he found no help in curing the condition. As he'd already been told, a pumpkin-head had never been rescued.
But it was now the end of the work day for Ginny, and he turned his steps back toward the Department where she worked, Kingsley still walking with him, until Harry asked him, "Are you keeping an eye on me or something?"
Kingsley answered in his deepest and most soothing voice, "You're still looking white. I just want to make sure that you get home all right."
Harry turned a sceptical eye on him, but said nothing more.
As they passed an office in the corridor, Healer Smythe walked out with some papers in his hand. Harry paused, very much tempted to vanish what he was sure was the report on him, but Smythe looked up, saw him, gave an odd sort of a squeak, and quickly retreated back into his office.
It was only when Kingsley came for the healer a half hour later, with definite assurances that Harry Potter had left the building, that Smythe was persuaded to go to the Minister's office and present his report. He was able to tell her that while Harry's energy levels were very low, accounting for the collapse, the significant LV reading was perfectly normal at 102, and weight was only a little below what it should have been. He concluded that Harry Potter was now fully fit.
Amelia listened to him with satisfaction - she had ideas for Harry Potter, but she remembered to warn Smythe to keep right away from him in future. Harry was sufficiently important to the Ministry now that she did not want him risking his position by harming the healer.
She left it a couple of months before requesting that Harry come to her office to discuss a project. Harry listened closely as she advanced the idea that he spend a week at a time in various countries, spell-breaking for their citizens. He would be well looked after, and well paid. But Harry only said maybe one day, when the children were grown, and he answered Madam Bones' persuasive argument that he was the only one who could do the job by saying that that was not his fault, and that maybe people should take more care not to be cursed!
Harry Potter chose not to feel obligated to his patients. Before he was around, and after he was dead, there was no-one who could break certain spells. He was not going to give up the life that was precious to him, in order to dedicate himself to relieving the results of what was often caused by a wizard's own stupidity!
***chapter end***