Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling

Chapter 21:

When they returned to the hotel, Julie was still out, Natalie and Leonard with her as her bodyguards. Catherine went to her room, and Harry decided that now was a good time.

"Alex?" he said. "In the corridor, and all I'm going to do is raise a fairly low intensity of magic, and then apparate. I want to see if I can apparate, and still have the magic available to me. Then, if it works, I'll do it at a higher intensity."

Alex nodded in a matter-of-fact way, and then casually said that he'd get Franz, turning his back on Harry, who was now frowning. He didn't want to have to argue with Franz about a fairly minor experiment. He knew theoretically that it could be dangerous, but he didn't feel nervous, and he thought he would if there was going to be a problem. He'd always had an excellent sense for danger...

Franz arrived, and he was frowning too. Leopold was with him.

"Are you determined on this, Harry?"

Harry was leaning casually against the wall, and only nodded. Franz reminded him, "The Dementors are all dead, remember?"

Harry agreed. "There's very strong evidence they're gone, and those eyewitness accounts of the last one's death - they were genuine. I can tell if the writer believes what he says."

Leopold suddenly spoke up, "You accepted a homework excuse from me once that was a lie - Professor Potter."

Harry dropped his cool look and laughed. "I always enjoyed particularly creative excuses!"

Franz said persuasively, "If you believe the Dementors are gone, then why do something you know that's dangerous?"

Harry said. "I need to be armed, just in case," and he shivered.

Franz looked at him a moment, and then turned to Leopold. "Other end of the corridor, and just make sure that no-one comes. Anything goes wrong, grab Catherine. She's in her room."

Harry said calmly, "I'm not going to need Catherine, or Alex. Asking Alex was just a precaution. I reckon I can either do it or I can't do it. That's all!"

He turned and followed Leo. "I'll apparate back toward you, not far. Then, if it succeeds, I'll try again with a bit more magic." And he grinned, the look suddenly lightening his features which had begun to look rather serious, even grim. "It'll get a shock if it tries to trap me again, and I'm totally ready!"

Leo stood steady as Harry took a few minutes to raise his magic. No-one liked the frightening feel in the air, but as Harry had said, he was not making it intense.

Harry was just standing, quite casual, cane in hand as always, then silently vanished from that spot, and reappeared a lot closer to Franz and Alex, at the other end of the corridor. But now he was no longer casual, instead he was rolling on the floor, in agony, clutching his head. There was no feel of strong magic left in the air.

Leo ran for Catherine. Franz and Alex went to Harry's side. His eyes were screwed tight shut, and his teeth bared. Tears of acute pain were on his cheeks. By the time Catherine arrived, he'd lost consciousness.

"What happened?" she snapped.

"An experiment," Franz said. "He called up his strong magic and then tried to apparate with it."

Catherine stared at him. "Why did you let him do something so damn silly?"

But then she turned her attention to Harry, and had Alex carry him to his bed, and felt his wrist for a pulse.

"He was in terrible pain," said Franz, "the same as when he tried to call up his strong magic and collapsed, remember years ago, after he'd been sick."

"He nearly died that time," said Catherine and instructed, "Look in his luggage. See if you can find the monitor he always used to keep with him." She hurried to her own room for the monitors and potions she thought she might need.

When Harry woke, not long later, he was still gripped by agony. He lay quite still, but his face was telling the tale. An American mediwizard stood beside Catherine, they were conferring in quiet voices on the other side of the room.

Harry wished they'd be silent, wished that everyone would just go away. He could hear Julie, too, crying. He was grateful when there was some quiet murmuring, and the crying receded. Sensor devices were taped to both forearms, one even to his chest. He heard an unfamiliar voice, quite low, but clear. "You can see - he's dying."

Catherine disagreed, "I've seen him like this before, and he recovered."

Harry didn't care, one way or the other. His world was just the pain.

Catherine came to him. "Do you want a spell to ease the pain?"

Harry didn't answer. He didn't know. But Catherine remembered the last time. He'd made an effort then to answer, and he'd said that a spell would kill him. She decided not to risk it.

The mediwizards on the other side of the room were watching their monitors, and then Catherine came close, feeling his pulse, touching his sweating forehead. Harry wished she'd go away. It hurt more when she touched. But he couldn't talk. That would hurt more, too.

After a while, he started to drift, and that was better. He was no longer suffering quite as much.

"It's looking very bad," said the American mediwizard.

In the sitting room, Natalie held Julie, who was still crying. Franz was looking grim, as were the other aurors. Only Manfred was undisturbed. If the last week's work was cancelled, there was something else he wanted to do.

There was a change. Catherine pointed to the pain monitor, and smiled at her colleague. Harry was terribly tired, and just slept, as the readings turned themselves around and started to rise. The American mediwizard left a couple of extra monitors for Catherine to borrow, including the pain monitor, and left.

When Harry woke, hours later, there was a dim light in the room, and Catherine and Franz were arguing. "The height of irresponsibility!" Catherine was saying to Franz, who was always so responsible, so competent.

"He was going to do it anyway - he's still terrified the Dementor will come back - you know that."

Harry said, "The Dementor's dead. It was just in case." And then he apologised, "I'm sorry to make so much trouble."

He was exhausted, but he felt so horribly sweaty. Dizzily, he rose. They hadn't even undressed him, just opened his shirt and taken his shoes off. He couldn't see his cane, so he simply conjured a new one. Franz went to his side as he headed to the bathroom.

Harry was still white, but gave him a half grin, and apologised for getting him into trouble with Catherine. "I'll be right now," he said, in what was unmistakably a dismissal, so Franz waited with Catherine, just in case he collapsed again. The pain had struck several times when he'd been sick like this before, but this time even the headache wasn't too bad.

When he came out, feeling a lot cleaner, and wearing a conjured dressing gown, Julie was there, and he hugged her and apologised. He'd pulled off all the sensors, and Catherine's monitors were dead, but she only took his pulse and asked how he was feeling.

"Starving hungry!" he said, and she laughed, and said they'd organise something for him. It was the early hours of the morning, but Alex shortly brought him some badly made sandwiches. Harry was very grateful. He felt thoroughly washed out, but he still wanted something to eat.

Catherine was organising. She was tired, and wanted to go to bed, but she was to be called if the pain came back. She looked dubiously at Julie. She didn't think much of Julie. "Will you stay, or would it be best for you to go back to the other room, and Franz can get someone to watch over him?"

Julie smiled at her husband, still eating hungrily, which she thought an excellent sign. "I'll stay."

The Dementor didn't come close. The morkon was ready to be used, and it was better not to risk detection until it was time. The Privileged One was not impatient. It knew the humans' pattern of movements, and expected to have its feed at their next destination. It just needed to know where they would be, so that he didn't have to take Harry far - just a place where it would not be disturbed, and a place where the other humans could find him easily afterward, so that they could restore him to health.

The acute pain didn't come back, but Harry was a long way from his usual self. Catherine was cross and tired in the morning. She was over sixty, and it had been a very late night, as well as stressful. Harry was not just a patient, she had become very fond of him, and she'd watched as the vital readings plunged lower and lower. At one time, death seemed imminent.

She gave him a thorough examination, talked very severely about his utter stupidity, and forbade him to do anything at all for the whole of that day. "LV just 87," she said, "and it was right down to nearly dead last night, and you'd only just got back to your normal."

"Sorry, Catherine," said Harry, being very obedient.

Julie sat in the corner, smiling inwardly at her husband's meekness.

"I'll come back in two hours," Catherine announced. "And you just sit or lie down! Don't do a thing!"

"Yes, Catherine," and Julie smirked again.

Harry turned his gaze to Julie. "She said to lie down," and his expression and voice changed, "Want to join me?"

Julie was tempted, but gave a glance at the door. Fred guarded outside.

Harry assured her, "We won't be disturbed," and he was radiating purest sexuality. Julie succumbed.

When Franz came to see him ten minutes later, Fred nodded at the sign that had appeared outside the door, 'Do not disturb,' and said, "There's a silencing shield."

Franz laughed and went away. It looked like Harry was recovering fast.

Harry vanished the sign a while later. He didn't want Julie to see it. She would have been embarrassed at the obvious indicator of their activities, but it was better than being interrupted. Julie was sleeping again. It had been a disturbed night.

Harry, on the other hand, was hungry. When Franz found him, he and Fred were in the kitchen of the small hotel, while Harry begged for something to eat. The head cook looked at him impatiently for a moment, decided he was far too thin, and delegated an assistant to make him a good feed.

Harry was well behaved for a time, and when Catherine came to find him, he was in the sitting room, with his feet up, watching some very bad TV. The healer was feeling better by now, and was less severe.

"LV 121," she announced. "You're making a quick recovery."

She still frowned at him, and suddenly asked why he didn't still bring the red book monitor with him.

"It no longer works," Harry said casually, not mentioning that it no longer worked because he'd turned it into a flash of blue flame. Catherine grunted, and went off to report to Franz - there was no need for any change to their plans to head to New York the following day, and she even expected that Harry would be able to work Monday, though maybe putting off any difficult cases to later in the week. The planned weekend activities were out for Harry, though.

Franz joined Harry. "The experiment was a failure then?"

Harry, the scientist and researcher, answered him. "No experiment's a failure - just that sometimes you get an answer not to your taste."

Sunday, they checked in to the large and luxurious hotel in New York. This time, when Harry wanted an extra feed, he just called room service, rather than strolling into the kitchen. This time, their accommodation was known, and there was a sizeable group of witches and wizards gathered in the foyer hoping to catch a glimpse of the great wizard, or in the case of two, hoping to collect the reward for killing the monster.

They were dealt with, smoothly and competently by the American force of aurors. Franz was informed.

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