Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or else I wouldn't be writing here.

I know, I know, I've taken way too long… You can't blame me, though! I've been super busy, and this week will be even worse! I'm sorry, maybe I'll update once this week, maybe until next Saturday, I'm not sure… This story is almost over! Can you believe it? Just a few more chapters (like 2 or 3, depends on my writing mood) and it's done J

McGonagall had managed to convince St. Heathsburg's director without having too much trouble. It certainly helped that the boy-who-lived-and-then-conquered was the one asking for this special request, and that the girl was a recognized war hero. Fallacies didn't take too long to come out of her mouth, and he foolishly fell for it. And don't forget about her autoritary demeanor that made everyone listen to her and do what she said (most of the time). That's why Harry now found himself in her office again, but this time he would go to St. Heathsburg.

He would get there via Santa Claus, that is, through the Flu network. He stepped in the fireplace in her office and felt that telltale spinning sensation. He arrived in a pristine white office, presumably the director's office. He was greeted by an old man dressed in white.

"Welcome, Mister Potter. I'm Mister Keaton, St. Heathsburg's director. It's an honor to have you here, and I'm very sorry for your friend. Visits are not allowed, you see, but we can make an exception for the savior of the world, can't we?" he was a fast and fluent speaker, Harry could barely understand everything he had said.

"Uh, yes, thank you. Now… could I please go see her?"

"Yes, of course. Follow me." He led Harry out of the room and through a series of white halls that looked all the same. He was getting dizzy of all this white. Everywhere he looked, he saw many strong and menacing people dressed in white, both male and female, some of them half-carrying zombie-like patients. It wasn't fare, they were weak and drugged and the "doctors" were bulls! How were they supposed to compete with that?

After many turns and similar halls, they finally stopped in front of a door that was guarded by two more of those beasts. The door was white (what a surprise) and the numer 108 was painted in silver.

"Miss Granger resides here, Room 108. So, as accorded you have one hour. Please give me any objects that she can use to harm herself or you, like your watch, your glasses, your wand…" Harry removed everything he had and gave it to one of the bulls, except for his wand.

"Excuse me sir, but I'm not giving you my wand. You see, I need to have it with me all the time. The war has left me a little paranoid, and I don't feel safe unless it's at hands reach."

"Interesting, maybe you could talk about that with one of our specialists? Alright, but you must not pull it out under any circumstances. These two will stay here in case there's any complication. And remember, one hour only." And with that said, he left.

Harry took a deep breath and entered the room. It was grey and cushioned, with no windows. It was rather depressing. And there, in the middle of the cushioned floor, was her. She was kneeled and looking towards the floor, her messy hair being a victim to the force of gravity and coverig her face. She looked like the girl from that movie, The Ring. She was wearing one of those jackets that made your arms reach your back so you couldn't move, and a torn gown. He felt devastated.

As soon as he closed the door, she slowly looked up, and he could see her better. She was as thin as a needle and gaunt. She looked like a corpse, all pale and dead. But she wasn't dead… yet. Her eyes had giant black circles around them, and she had a faraway look. Her cheeks were sullen and her lips were dry. She reminded him of… No, that couldn't be, better to stay away from those thoughts.

He was outraged! What had they done to her?! She looked dead! Where they even feeding her?

"Harry, is that you?"