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 Eleven
8:30am January 22nd, 2002
It started out like any other day for Harry and Ginny. They were well settled into their routines now. Ginny took a piece of toast, and a mug of hot coffee from the selection set out on the dining table. Harry didn't even glance up from reading the Prophet as he swallowed the assortment of medications laid out for him, washing them down with his cup of tea, before taking a couple of pieces of toast for himself.
"...Are you sure you don't want me to come to your appointment today, love? It's at two o'clock, right? I can leave practice early."
"Gin, it's just a check-up," Harry gently reminded his fiancé. "You have already spent too much time away from the team because of me. ...Hey, are you playing at the game in Manchester this weekend?"
"Gwengog hasn't decided yet."
"All the more reason you shouldn't be missing practice."
2:35pm January 22nd, 2002
"Come on in, Harry. Please forgive my tardiness, my last patient took slightly longer than anticipated."
Taking his cue from the physician, Harry stood, and walked into the inner office. Dr Alonstone pulled the door gently closed behind them. "Don't worry about it. I had a chance to catch up on the latest gossip magazines," Harry jovially replied, once they were clear of the waiting area.
As the doctor turned to face Harry the room suddenly felt as though it had dropped ten degrees, yet it was suffocatingly stuffy at the same time. Then Dr Alonstone said the words that Harry had come to fear above all else- "Harry, your leukaemia has recurred. You are no longer in remission."
"What? Why is that? It can't be... I'm doing everything you said," Harry said, faltering.
Dr Alonstone gently guided Harry down into a seat as he saw the young wizard's legs begin to give way. "Harry, I have every confidence that you have followed my instructions to the letter. Recurrence can happen even if you've done everything right. Do you want to contact Ginny before I try to explain things?"
"No, that's okay. She has practice," Harry replied. "...So what do we do? More chemotherapy?"
"Yes and no. I would like to admit you immediately, and start a second chemotherapy induction, however given that you have relapsed once our best chance now is to start looking for a bone marrow donor, that is your best chance for recovery now."
"And if you don't find one?" Harry might have asked the question, but he soon realized that he didn't really want to know the answer.
"Your life is at risk."
Dr Alonstone gave Harry a minute to allow the news to sink in before he pressed on, "Do you remember the conversation we had before you first started treatment?"
'Which one?' Harry thought darkly; there had been much discussion when he had first been diagnosed so many months ago.
"While it has been relatively safe for us to use donated blood products from muggle sources to correct deficiencies that have resulted from the chemotherapy, a bone marrow transplant really does need to come from a witch or wizard, otherwise your magical ability may be significantly reduced-"
"But I'm already..." Harry begun anxiously, having interrupted Dr Alonstone.
"This effect would be permanent. It is probable that even the levels of chemotherapy and radiotherapy required to prepare you for transplantation will have a detrimental effect on your magic. I need to tell you that given your situation, should a non-magical match be found, we really cannot afford to wait for a magical donor, and in that situation it is doubtful that your magical core would be left intact. There is a theory that a wizard's bone marrow profile has different elements which mean that it cannot match a muggle's, however there really hasn't been that much research into it unfortunately."
"So what do we do? How do we find someone who will be a match?"
"Well, there is no wizarding equivalent to the muggle bone marrow registry unfortunately. I have placed you on the muggle list, and a donor, and although there are no matches currently a match may still be found through this process. It might be an idea for your friends to get tested as possible matches, there's only a very small possibility of finding a match this way, but it does happen. Ideally we would test your immediate family, but..."
"But they're dead," Harry finished the healer's sentence, not wanting to continue that train of conversation if it could be helped.
Noticing Harry's discomfort, the doctor steered the conversation away from what he knew to be a painful topic, "...In any case, once a match is found, you will need to be prepared for, and receive the transplant here. We do have some time, Harry."
This time around no time was wasted before Harry was admitted to an isolation suite, and a new central venous catheter was placed to prepare for Harry to start treatment the next morning.
5:30pm January 22nd, 2002
Absently, Harry rubbed at the newly placed central venous catheter in his chest; the old one had been removed almost a year ago, and treatment would prove much more difficult without one in place.
Ginny had been horrified to learn of Harry's relapse, and now sat anxiously at Harry's bedside. She had already had a blood test to see if she could donate bone marrow to her fiancé, unfortunately she was not a match.
"What're we going to do, Harry?"
"I guess we just wait, hope they find a match."
February 9th, 2002
Night was setting in, but Ginny had no intention of leaving Harry's side.
"You don't have to stay here, Ginny. You should go home, get some sleep, see your parents," Harry spoke, his breath fogging the clear plastic oxygen mask that covered his face.
"No, I'm fine here. Just rest."
"...You aren't fine, Ginny. You're exhausted, you look worse than me-"
"Not possible."
"You know what I mean. You shouldn't be running yourself into the ground, not when there isn't anything you can do." Harry brought his hand to her soft face, stroking it gently. Time was running out. "You should be preparing yourself, it's only a matter of time now."
Ginny lay her head on Harry's bony shoulder, pain filled sobs coursing through her petite frame. Nothing Harry could say would calm her.
"I was thinking that we should maybe move up the wedding," Harry said, noticing that Ginny's cries had quietened. "I'm not going to make it to August."
"No, no, don't talk like that. This is just a rough patch, you are going to get better, and come August you'll be standing at the altar. Dad will walk me down the aisle, just like we planned."
"Gin, please. We need to be realistic. I've spoken to your dad, he knows a wizard who can come to the hospital and perform the service. I want to marry you, Ginny Weasley."
"...Okay, Harry. But when you get better, we're going to do it properly."
"Yeah, we will," Harry agreed, though in his heart he knew that Ginny's dream wedding would never happen, not with him anyway. "Ginny, you should know that I had a will written up when I first got sick."
"Please, Harry don't..."
"I have left you the house, the majority of the gold that's in my vault at Gringotts, and whatever you want of my personal things. You will be well taken care of when I'm gone, I've made sure of that."
Their wedding was a rather small and quiet affair. It was just those members of the Weasley family whom Harry was closest to, Hermione, Angelina, the celebrant, and of course Harry and Ginny themselves.
Breaking away from her usual outfit of jeans and a tee-shirt, Ginny wore a tasteful knee length floral sun dress for the occasion, while Harry hadn't even had the strength to change from his hospital issue pajamas.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to witness the union of two faithful souls..."
"...Do you Harry James Potter take Ginevra Molly Weasley to be your wife, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
"I do."
"And do you, Ginevra Molly Weasley take Harry James Potter to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
"Of course I do," Ginny bit back, tears streaming like miniature waterfalls down her face.
"I then declare you bonded for life. You may kiss your bride."
Ginny leant over, knowing that Harry couldn't, and they shared their first kiss as husband and wife.
It may have been their last kiss though, as suddenly and with little to no warning, Harry slumped back against the bed, breaking the kiss. His breath faltering, then failed completely.
Harry Potter was dead.
To Be Continued...
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