Chapter Four

There was a crash and muffled voices followed by heavy footsteps could be heard getting louder. Two people dressed in the heavy clothing stepped into the room, a giant hose in their hands. After a quick look around the room, they turned to each other and muffled voices could be heard. One of them took the hose and retreated from the room while the other walked over to him.

'Sir, are you ok? Sir' a gloved hand reached out and began shaking his bare shoulder.

His head rolled to one side and then to the other and then he groaned. After shaking his head rapidly, he opened his eyes and then he groaned again and put his head in his hands.

'My head hurts'

'Are you injured?'

'I don't think so I just have a massive headache.'

'What happened? Your neighbours saw what looked like a fire and called us. When we arrived there was nothing apparent though when we entered, the house looked like it had caught on fire.'

'I do not know I must have been asleep, the last thing I remember was sitting in this chair and holding a family heirloom.'

'If I may ask sir what was this heirloom?'

'A pocket watch.'

'Well, is there anything you need sir? Just let us know. I'll be sending the paramedics in to make sure you really are alright.'

'Thanks'

Then the heavy footsteps retreated and lighter and faster footsteps were heard approaching and a man and a women rushed over to him and began rapidly talking to each other and to him but he didn't respond. Instead, his hands fell and his head moved to the side. The chatter picked up in intensity and the man rushed out and quickly returned with a stretcher. After much struggle, they managed to manoeuvre him on to it and carried him outside and into the waiting ambulance. Sirens wailing they sped away.

He was laid in a hospital bed with nurses huddled around him and the monitors that surrounded him. He slept in the bed for two days without any movement. The nurses and doctors that hovered around him wore frowns and their muttering was frantic. Occasionally they would gesture with their entire hand at the heart monitor with lowered eyebrows and then shake their heads. The electrocardiogram was oddly showing an R wave that dipped for a bit before rising again. This was mirrored in the S wave that followed.

It was two full days before he awoke. He moved his head around before groaning and mumbling something about how he always wakes up in an infirmary. He then went about pushing his head back into the pillow to the point where the sides of the pillow were sticking nearly vertical around his head. The clock clock of heels was getting louder until a shortest woman with brunette hair walked in and began looking at all the machines before turning to face him.

'Mr. Potter! We're so glad that you're awake. I'll go get Doctor Beckett he has questions for you.' The clock clock sped up as she disappeared from the room.

She returned shortly with a cheerful slightly rotund man who plopped himself down in the chair by the bed. 'Mr. Potter so glad you're awake, you had us all worried. Now, there are a few things that I need to ask you, the first question is, what are you?'

'I don't understand, I'm human?'

Beckett's eyes widened before narrowing them. 'I'm afraid that scientifically you are not human, though the fact that you are unaware, that is of course unless you are lying, is troubling. The reason why I asked that question is because first off you have two hearts and second off your DNA is completely different from a human.'

'I have two hearts?' he then began to chuckle. 'You're funny! Two hearts? Please! You're gonna have to do better than that.'

Beckett's mouth became drawn before the edges began curling down 'Mister Potter I am not joking around with you, both my stethoscope and an MRI prove it. Here look at this screen and see for yourself.'

He turning his head to the left to look at the screen that Beckett was pointing at, his eyes widened, and his mouth opened. He stared at the screen for the longest time before his lips finally moved and a stream of words came out. 'What? How? Why?'

'That's what we were hoping you could tell us, though I can see that you are just as clueless as we are.'

The next thing we would like to know is why you do not have any burns on you. When the fire fighters found you, all the walls and furniture were burned but your skin was not even touched. None of the hair on your body was singed and your skin was not even warm to the touch."

His hands reached up to his pace and began touching every inch of smooth unblemished skin. He felt along his forehead and then touched a diagonal path across his nose and down into his right cheek. The fingers of his left hand marched up his left cheek until when they came along side his nose he gave a gasp and his hand snapped down. Shortly after, his hand moved back up to his socket. He carefully patted the edges of the socket and when his fingers reached the edges of the socket his hand would jump slightly as new skin pushed his fingers away. His eyes widened as far as they could go and he began muttering to himself.

'Impossible, impossible' reaching up his fingers grabbed strands of hair and pulled them down to his eyes and grumbled at the fact that it was no longer black and why did it have to be brown.

'Mister Potter, Mister Potter please answer the question, do you know why you never suffered from any burns?'

He muttered quietly. 'I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.'

Nodding his head, the doctor turned his head slightly and began gazing at the wall for a few minutes. Then he turned his head back and quietly spoke, 'I'm afraid that you are going to have to remain here for a few days just to make sure that you are all right.'

He just nodded his head slowly and stared down his bead ignoring the doctor as he slowly made his way out of the room. He did not move for the next few hours even when the nurse left a platter full of food right next to his bed. Eventually he turned and grabbing the tray began stuffing his face full of food. In a matter of seconds, the tray was empty and after a call for more food, this process continued until he had a five trays stacked haphazardly.

A few days later, the nurse returned with the familiar clock clock. His mouth curled down and he let out a growl.

"Mister Potter we took the liberty of bring some of your clothes from your house for you to wear out of the hospital since when we found you, you had none on.' At this, her cheeks tinted slightly. After setting them down on the chair by the bed she turned and quickly retreated.

He began to put on his clothes. He first pulled up his boxers only for them to slide down and pool at his feet. Grumbling something about incompetent nurses, he put them on and while holding them up with one hand he reached for the trousers. He struggled with his one hand to put on the trousers. Once they were around his waist he tightened the belt al the way it could go. Looking down at his waist and the bunched up material of both boxers and trousers on his sides and then down at the section of leg sticking out from the trousers he sighed. He slowly picked up his shirt and began to put it over his head. The shirt got to his shoulders before it refused to go down any further.

He looked down at his slender chest, the beer gut replaced by a hint of abdominal muscles peaking out, before turning to look at each shoulder before sighing again. He pressed the call button and shortly the same nurse from before arrived accompanied by the clock clock of her heels.

'Yes Mister Potter what can I do for you?'

'Are you sure that you go these clothes from my house, because as you can see' he pointed to his waist and his legs and the shirt that was pooled on top of his shoulders 'these don't fit me.'

'Yes I'm certain' she replied with a slight tint to her cheeks.

'Well?'

I'll go bring in a tailor' she left again and after a huff he crawled back into the bed and lay there with his narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

Two hours later the tailor arrived in a button down shirt and a small moustache and a receding hairline. After he had stood up the tailor moved around with his tape measure and pad of paper making marks.

'What is it you want me to get you?'

'A pair of boxers, some khaki trousers with a belt and a white button down shirt, the rest I can get later, this is just so I can go home.'

'You're in luck that your sizes aren't too outlandish'

The tailor then scurried out of the room. He stayed their leaning against the bed jsut staring at the plain white wall of the hospital bed.

An hour later the tailor bustled in with the clothes and after dropping them off scurried away again leaving him alone to dress in private. He smiled as the clothes fit just right. He walked out of the hospital with a smile on his face and leaving in his wake stares from women and a few from the men.

He walked briskly down into town and then up the road to his house. The smile disappeared when he saw the house. He cautiously walked up the drove and passed the busted in blackened door and scrunched in his nose at the smell of charred wood in the air.

Ignoring the rest of the house, he went into the living room where his chair sat with only patches of red to mark its original colour. Sitting right in the middle of the chair was the pocket watch.