Disclaimer: I claim no ownership to the Harry Potter series or it's characters. This is purely for fun, and I am making no money from this story.

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Chapter Four

4:50pm June 26th, 2000

With the last of the tests was done, and now there was nothing much for Harry nor Ginny to do until the final results came back - hopefully by late the next day. Neither member of the couple had ever handled waiting very well, particularly when something like a diagnosis of leukaemia was hanging over them.

It would take a number of hours still, before the young couple could bring themselves to discuss the reality of their situation.

6:00pm June 26th, 2000

After a very unappetising dinner provided by the hospital, Harry was lying in his bed, with Ginny nestled in his arms. Together they were attempting to read through all the information that they had been given, booklets with titles like 'Living with Leukaemia' and 'Understanding Chemotherapy'.

Detailed in the pamphlets were explanations of: the different types of leukaemia, along with their varying symptoms and prognoses - suggested ways to cope during treatment - the different types of treatment - and of course the innumerous list of potential side effects of the treatments.

As far as Harry could see he would spend at very least the next couple of months laid up, having treatments, coping with the side effects of treatment, and most likely requiring further 'supportive treatments' to counteract the undesired effects of the treatment.

Probably what would have been the most useful would have been a pamphlet on explaining cancer to pureblood witches and wizards, as Harry spent much time explaining concepts to Ginny that he knew from his early life in the muggle world. Apparently there was nothing like it, and certainly no treatment in the magical world.

"...I think you should go back to training tomorrow, Ginny," Harry commented quietly as he stuffed the booklets back onto his bedside table. "There's no reason for both of us to be stuck here for weeks."

"Harry..." Ginny said warningly.

"You're my fiancé, Gin, not my nurse," Harry said pointedly. "It might get ...bad, Ginny. Some people really get sick after having chemotherapy, if I get like that, I want the nurses to handle it." Harry's face quirked into a weary smile, as he added, "Besides, I love when you tell me your stories about life as a professional Quidditch player."

"I know you do ...I'll think about it."

7:30pm June 26th, 2000

The couple awoke to the sound of someone uncomfortably clearing their throat; they had drifted to sleep in each other's arms on the narrow hospital bed.

Harry stifled a groan, as despite the cushioning charm on his mattress, his body was aching - a seemingly inescapable pain from deep within his bones. Looking around, Harry saw that the room had become somewhat crowded while he'd been sleeping; he also noticed that it was probably getting late, as it was completely dark outside, and most of the lights on the ward had been dimmed.

A pang of embarrassment struck Harry as he realised that Ginny's parents were watching over him and Ginny - quite oblivious to the fact that they had invaded the young couple's intimate moment.

Arthur Weasley was standing by the bedside, his arm wrapped around his wife, who was sobbing quietly as she looked down at him and Ginny. George was there with his girlfriend, Angelina Johnson. As were Bill and Fleur; they had left Victorie at the Burrow with Percy.

From the muggles' perspective it had probably been quite a bizarre scene as the Weasley family walked through the hospital to visit Harry. And how could it not be?

Even once you got past the shocking red hair that most of them had, there were still numerous noticeable peculiarities.

Mr and Mrs Weasley wore mismatched muggle clothes, trying and failing to blend in. At least the younger members of the family knew enough to dress inconspicuously.

But then there was Bill, with long gouging scars across one side of his face, accompanied by his unbelievably beautiful wife and child.

George missing an ear, and not even trying to conceal it.

But they all had one thing in common – that damned pitying expression that made Harry want to scream. They were acting as though he was dying - maybe he was, but just two days ago Harry had dismissed his symptoms as the flu.

Despite everything that Harry had already faced in life, the thought of having cancer was a difficult burden to bear.

Maybe part of him still hoped that this had all just been a terrible mistake.

Ginny promptly jumped off of the bed, and moved to stand at Harry's bedside, straightening her clothes as she did.

"How are you doing, Harry?" Bill asked, coming forward to shake Harry's hand.

"Okay, still reckon they're making this a bigger deal than it is," Harry replied, forcing a tight laugh.

"Well it's good to see you looking a bit better anyway mate," George added.

"Yes, you gave us quite ve fright, Harry."

While the Weasley clan were all focused on Harry, Angelina picked up Harry's chart from the end of his bed.

Angelina had seldom been more grateful that she had taken the advice of the St Mungo's healers in requesting to undertake her practical training at various hospitals under doctors like Henry Alonstone, magical folk living in the muggle world, as part of her practical training was set to be at St Luke's.

Angelina had discovered that she was far from being the first witch (or wizard) to undertake tertiary studies in the muggle world, and St Luke's Hospital had been the chosen site of medical training for a fair share of witches and wizards over the years; some had even remained on staff.

As soon as George had floo called her with the news, Angelina had contacted her supervisor, and talked her way into having her rotations rearranged. Knowing that ultimately she would probably take a job at the wizarding hospital, Angelina had seen little point to focusing on specialties that managed illness and injury that could be healed with spells anyway, so in her fourth year of medical school, Angelina had chosen to take elective placements in specialties where muggle methods were far more advanced than the magical equivalents - congenital ailments, oncology, haematology, and such.

With careful negotiation, Angelina had been able to swap placements with one of her classmates, and as of today she was assigned to the oncology/haematology department. A purposeful move on Angelina's part, as she wanted to help out her former teammate if she could; it wouldn't set her career back in any way, and spending weeks wearing childishly bright scrubs (which were required in the paediatrics department of Manchester Children's Hospital) didn't suit her at all.

Studying Harry's chart gave her valuable information into his condition, and plans for his care. Still it was an awkward moment when Harry noticed what she was doing. "Ang? That is supposed to be private you know."

Angelina promptly returned the chart to its proper place, explaining, "I work here." Angelina couldn't help but jokingly state the obvious.

A few looks of questioning shot in Angelina's direction.

"Medical student, remember? As of tomorrow I will be on rotation here, I thought that I might as well start a tad early. I was planning on a rotation up here anyway, just moved it forward a couple of months. Someone has to keep Harry out of trouble, Merlin knows that it somehow always finds him."

Harry really didn't have a response to that - back in their Hogwarts days he had always been the one in the thick of whatever went wrong, and things really hadn't changed much.

"So the hematologist admitted you? ...Not surprising really." Angelina picked up Harry's chart again, ignoring everyone except Harry as she looked through it with a practiced eye. "You've already had a blood transfusion, and two platelet transfusions... That's good. Blood-replenishing potions don't do much to correct any deficiencies, which you definitely have. And the consultant has done a full blood work up, a bone marrow aspiration, lumbar puncture, chest and abdominal scans."

"The doctor said something about the muggle tests showing things that the spells can't," Harry said, now feeling less certain of himself, thinking back to his meeting with Dr Alonstone.

"...That would make sense," Angelina replied thoughtfully. "Has he spoken with you about what he is looking for?"

"Leukaemia, or something like it."

"What's leukaemia?" Several members of the Weasley family asked almost simultaneously, in a curious manner.

Harry could have sworn that he heard Angelina mutter something about purebloods, but then barely missing a beat, for everyone's benefit she explained, "There are many illnesses that can only affect people with a degree of non magical heritage. One of those diseases is leukaemia, an invasive disease of the blood cells. At the moment I believe that Dr Alonstone is waiting for test results to come back indicating which of several types may be affecting Harry. And the reason the healers would have sent him here, is that there are rarely magical treatments for any kind of non magical illness. Harry, it is very serious, but there are plenty of options for treatment."

Again choosing to ignore the Weasleys as they tried to understand his situation, Harry asked his former teammate, "What kind of treatments? I was reading the booklets that Dr Alonstone gave me, and they said that I would have to have chemotherapy. Is that right?"

"If you do indeed have leukaemia, the standard treatment used is a type of medication called chemotherapy, which will probably be given to you through the cannula directly into your veins, but some might be in tablet form. There is also something called radiation therapy, which I'm sure Dr Alonstone will explain if it is necessary."

"Chemotherapy?" Harry had come across the word before, it never sounded pleasant, and the knowledge that that word was now linked to him was justifiably terrifying.

To Be Continued...

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