Back from the holiday, Harry joined Hermione in the study, the idea he had toyed with while they had been away was now making him itch to get started working on it. It was time he started contributing in a way that had tangible results. The constant talks with John had settled a lot of his questions and had opened his eyes to the practicalities of running the Order. The way information was collected and distributed. The hierarchy that was needed to manage a group of people who, until recently, had been a clandestine vigilante group. He quietly cringed remembering his childish demands to be told things he clearly hadn't needed to know, just because he felt he should have been. He hoped that with time and distance he might be forgiven those actions.

He pulled together the idea he had been playing with and jotted down the outline of what he wanted to achieve. Grabbing some books from the shelves, he flicked through the first one and started to read. Research was a bit like homework, the difference was this was something he wanted to do. If he could manage this, then it might go some way to making up to Hermione the mess he'd made of the marbles.

Dobby brought lunch interrupting both his and Hermione's research. Pushing his notes away he pulled his lunch towards him and started on the sandwiches.

"How's your research going?" he asked.

"Not bad," she said with a smile.

"Huh, what are you working on?"

"Healing magic. You?"

"Umm, well it might be nothing. Mind if I tell you once I'm a bit further on?"

"No I guess not, you are going to tell me, though, right?" she asked.

"Yes of course, only if it doesn't work I might have to change a few things and..." Harry trailed off following a thread of thought, missing the smile that bloomed on Hermione's face watching him.

"Well let me know if you need any help. I might need yours when I'm a bit further on if you can spare me some time," Hermione said still smiling.

"Sure, just let me know," he agreed.

They finished their lunch in companionable silence and once it was done, drifted back into their work. Dinner brought the next interruption, and they tidied their things away before joining the rest of the family downstairs.

The week continued like this, them both engrossed in their projects pulled away only by food and evening classes, until the weekend.

The sixteenth of August dawned and it was a beautiful sunny Saturday. Harry, Hermione and Helen decided to walk to a restaurant for lunch, it was too nice outside to contemplate getting in a car. John would join them if he finished his emergency patient in time. Otherwise, they would meet back up at the house, and they'd do something together that evening. They had been busy, each of them in their own way, since their return from the holiday they hadn't managed to do much more than eat their evening meals together.

The walk to the restaurant passed the park, it was full of children playing ball games or chasing each other shrieking with the joy of being young and playing with friends on a sunny day. The restaurant interior was cool and dim, a welcome break from the heat, lunch was leisurely, casual conversation carried on between three people who liked each other and enjoyed each other's company. It was the walk home that changed everything.

They set off, Hermione in the middle, arm linked with her mother's while Harry held her hand and walked closest to the pavement edge. Hermione and Helen chatted about places they wanted to visit next time they went into the city proper. Harry let the conversation wash over him, his concentration mostly on his ongoing project, smiling quietly to himself, half an ear cocked in case either woman asked his opinion.

As they passed the park at the top of their street time did that funny thing it does when something important happens. It slowed down

Harry noticed the ball cross the pavement in front of them and slowed so they wouldn't trip over it, then he saw a boy no older than eight dart after it. His ears told him that the noise behind him was a truck, probably a delivery truck and that it was travelling at a steady speed. His brain did the calculation and came to the horrifying realisation that the child who had darted over the pavement to reach his ball was going to be in the middle of the road when the truck reached the same position. The kid was toast.

With time still seemingly operating at a vastly reduced speed, he dropped Hermione's hand and went after the boy. Within three strides he was able to scoop him up and toss him towards the other side of the road as two tonnes of steel met the side of his body. He hoped Hermione had cast a cushioning charm because he couldn't be sure how hard he'd thrown the kid forward. He hoped that this wasn't going to hurt too much, for too long.

Hermione had seen the child. She'd felt Harry drop her hand and felt the cool rush of air come between them as he went after him. When she turned her head, she saw Harry scoop him up and toss him forward. She managed to cast a wandless and wordless cushioning charm under his body as he landed and bounced.

She couldn't stop the truck; she couldn't not hear the screech of brakes, nor the noise of the impact when the front of the vehicle hit Harry. She couldn't not see how his body bounced forward to land on the road, or the way it went under the truck as the driver frantically tried to stop. She couldn't stop the anguished scream of Harry's name that seemed to tear from her very soul as she looked at his limp unmoving body lying in the road. Nor could she make her legs support her as time sped back up and her brain told her heart her boyfriend's chances of surviving that, were really, really, slim.

The ambulance took six minutes to reach them. In those minutes Helen had dragged Hermione back to her feet and towards the limp form of Harry. The truck driver had clambered or rather fallen out of the cab to throw up on the verge babbling about how he couldn't stop. He'd tried, and he couldn't stop. The child who had bounced was surrounded by his friends, one of them had sprinted off to find his mum.

Helen left Hermione slumped next to Harry while she checked him over. Trying to ascertain if he was alive, or breathing, or had a pulse, or anything at all that meant she hadn't seen the young man that was part of her family die saving a child. She was holding back her own hysteria only because Hermione needed her to. Because giving in to it might mean the difference between keeping Harry alive until help arrived and watching him die in front of her. She held his wrist tracking his pulse. It was thin, stuttering, but most importantly, present. His breathing was shallow and wet sounding, and her half remember med school days conjured a quick half dozen reasons why it might be. None of them were good. His leg and ankle were clearly broken. The slide across the road surface after bouncing off the truck had removed the skin from his arms and chest where his shirt had ridden up, his jeans were ripped in places but seemed to have mostly survived. One shoe was missing; his glasses were lying broken next to him. He had not opened his eyes or given any sign he was conscious, and she prayed and prayed, he would be spared major head trauma.

When the paramedics screeched up, Helen breathed in what felt like the first time in forever. She gratefully let them take over and dragged Hermione bodily backwards to give them space.

They loaded him onto the trolley, told Helen which hospital they were taking him to and were gone. She picked herself up and pulled Hermione to her feet murmuring nonsense. She left her name, address and contact number with the attending police officer who was taking names from the witnesses. The driver was sat on the side of the road with another officer, someone had found him a blanket and wrapped him in it.

They all but ran down the street to the house, Helen called for Dobby before the front door was shut. Hastily explaining what had happened, asking for a bag to be made up with clothes for everyone she grabbed the phone and called the surgery. She left a message for John and threw the phone back into the cradle not seeing the blood smear she left on the handset.

Dobby returned clutching a bag and an anxiety potion. She thanked him before tipping the potion down Hermione's throat. Hermione was still clutching herself on the bottom step where she'd stopped when Helen had let go of her.

"Dobby will take Helen and Hermione to the hospital," he said firmly still clutching the bag.

"Dobby you can't, it's a muggle hospital. They can't see you, and we can't appear out of nowhere, we'll need to go in the car."

"Dobby will take you," he said again just as firmly. Helen was torn, Dobby would get them there sooner it was true, but if he were spotted, then chaos would ensue. He broke her out of her internal arguments by grasping her hand tightly and taking hold of Hermione. They vanished in a pop and reappeared in what she assumed to be the hospital waiting room.

"Dobby!" she hissed as they landed. Elf travel was much easier on a person than apparition done by either Hermione or Harry. She didn't have the lurching sickness to contend with, which was good since she'd just appeared out of thin air into a hospital full of non-magical people. Helen glanced around her checking to see who might have seen and saw that she wasn't where she thought she would be. "Dobby, where are we?"

A wizard in some sort of robe uniform bustled up to them. "There you are, come with me. We got him off the ambulance once your elf told us to expect him." The wizard walked off expecting them to follow and Dobby tugged everyone forward.

"Dobby what's going on?" Helen asked.

"Dobby told the hospital Harry was coming," Dobby said, evidently thinking this was explanation enough.

Hermione stirred beside her, her environment breaking through the fog she was in. "This is a wizarding hospital Mum."

"Yes," Helen said shortly. "I'd gathered that by the lack of running and screaming at our method of entrance and Dobby's continuing presence going unremarked."

The sharp sarcasm broke through Hermione's fug further, and she took her Mum's hand. "Sorry," she whispered to her. "I couldn't, I just, shut down."

Helen wrapped an arm tightly around her waist. "Don't apologise. Don't ever apologise. I would have been right there with you."

"The sound Mum," Hermione shuddered, her entire body shaking with it. "Oh God." She clamped her lips together and squeezed her eyes closed.

"Shhh," Helen comforted. "Come on, if he's at a magical hospital that's good, isn't it?"

The wizard who had been leading them pushed a door open and gestured them inside. He followed and closed the door behind him. Turning to face him the two women and elf huddled together waiting.

"The impact was severe. I understand you were in a muggle populated area, so magic use was inappropriate. Thank you for abiding by the law, in this case, I understand in times such as these taking care of your loved ones can seem more important than anything else."

"I'm not magical," Helen admitted. "Hermione and Harry are."

"Oh," the wizard said looking at her strangely.

"Squib," Hermione declared. "My parents are squibs. I'm a witch, Harry is a wizard, and you haven't told us how he is!" Her voice breaking on the last part.

"Yes. Well, thankfully the muggle paramedics got to him in time. His heart stopped in the ambulance on the way here, but they got him back. Nothing quite beats CPR you know, even we've not managed to come up with anything better. He's undergone healing for his punctured lung and bruised internal organs of which there were a few. The head injury we're happy is no longer a danger, and he's currently undergoing treatment for his broken bones in his shin and ankle. He'll be kept in a magical coma until that process is complete, so for the next twelve hours. Then we'll bring him around once we're happy he's in no more danger, and his levels are all back to normal. Do you have any questions?"

"Where is he?" Hermione said immediately.

"I'll take you there now," the wizard said.

"My husband, can Dobby bring him here?" Helen asked as he led them from the room.

"Yes," the wizard replied. "As long as someone magical stays with you while you are here that's fine. It's a safety precaution. If something magical happens to you while you were alone, as a non-magical user," he shrugged demonstratively.

"That's fine, we can do that," Helen nodded. They followed him down the corridor and into another hallway, and down another until Helen had no idea where they were. He opened a door into a small room. "I'll be back in half an hour or so to check in."

"Wait," Helen said as Hermione went to Harry's bedside. The wizard turned and looked at her eyebrow raised. "Does this work like muggle hospitals? Do I have forms to fill in? Don't you need insurance details or something?"

"Your admission forms are on the bedside. Your elf registered Mr Black as a patient when he informed us to expect him. You'll need to complete the forms and hand them into the front desk. Your insurance will be billed appropriately."

"But it's muggle insurance," Helen said.

"All insurance is," the wizard confirmed.

"Oh," she said, not sure what to make of that.

"Is there anything else? I really do need to be off."

"Oh, no. Thank you," Helen said and watched as he nodded to her and bustled off down the corridors to the next patient.

Helen entered the room, closing the door behind her. She sank into the chair on the other side of the bed and noted that magic had at least made the seat comfortable. Dobby handed her the clipboard with the forms and quill. She snorted at the quill and pulled her bag towards her looking for a pen.

"Dobby, how did you…?" She stopped unsure of how or what to ask.

Dobby nodded his head flapping his ears in understanding. "Helen and John are muggles," he said. "Harry and Hermione are muggle raised. Dobby knew they wouldn't know that magical hospital would need to be told, so Dobby told them."

"Thank you Dobby, I didn't know the magical hospital could intercept the ambulances. You've saved Harry a lot of painful slow healing."

"Dobby serves," the elf said solemnly.

"You did very well. Do you think you can bring John here? If he's finished with his patient, he'll want to be here, and I don't even know where here is."

"Dobby will be right back!"

"Thank you, Dobby."

The elf beamed at her shot a concerned look towards the bed and vanished. Reassured that all she had to worry about for that moment was dry form filling in Helen looked over Hermione and Harry. Hermione had gotten onto the bed and shifted forms. Her animagus form was curled tightly next to Harry. She'd pushed his arm out and was in the space between his arm and chest, her head pushed tightly against his side listening to his heart beat. Helen's heart constricted at how close they had come to losing him. She allowed the tears to fall, falling apart quietly so not to disturb either of the bed's occupants. After a brief moment, she gathered herself and turned back to the forms.

The door opening drew her out of her meditative contemplation of the ceiling. It brought Hermione's feline head shooting up staring over her shoulder at the intruder. John entered the room with Dobby clutching his hand. He went over to Hermione stroking down her head and spine. "It's alright love, only me."

She purred softly at him then snuggled her head back to the space it had been previously. John looked Harry up and down before coming to Helen's side and enveloping her in his arms. He turned his back to the bed letting Helen sag against him, and he ignored the tears he felt seeping through his shirt to dampen his chest. He'd gotten out of surgery to receive her message. Returning to his office to let his secretary know he'd be unavailable for the rest of the day, he'd found Dobby waiting. Inordinately relieved that they had magical help John had left his messages and let Dobby bring him here.

"He's alright," Helen said in a wobbly voice. "Dobby told the hospital to meet the ambulance, and they've fixed everything. Their just waiting for his leg and ankle bones to grow back before bringing him around."

"Grow back?" John asked.

"Hmmhm, they vanish the broken bones and grow new ones."

"That sounds, awful," John said. "I think I'd rather be unconscious too." Helen nodded wetly against his chest before loosening the death grip she had him in. "Don't suppose there's another chair somewhere is there?" John asked her looking around.

"Dobby can fix that!" Dobby piped up and widened Helen's chair to fit both of them comfortably.

"Can you get yourself a chair Dobby?" John asked.

Dobby nodded and snapped his fingers. His chair from Harry and Hermione's study appeared. He placed it next to Helen and John's shared chair and hopped into it. Staying alert for the needs of his family.

"Are magical hospital visiting hours different?" John asked quietly.

"I've no idea," Helen replied. "I don't think they'll get Hermione out of here regardless."

"No, I suppose not. So tell me everything."

Helen did, and it left them pale and clutching hands as they observed the two forms on the bed.

"He's ok, though?" John asked again.

"The wizard who brought us here seemed to think so. He will be brought around tomorrow and discharged as soon as they are happy with him."

"Thank god for magic," John said relieved. "That much damage would have meant months in the hospital. Not to mention rehab."

"Thank God for Dobby," Helen said.

Dobby beamed at them both. "Dobby will fetch food," he announced before disappearing.

"Oh," John said. "We won't have to eat hospital food?"

"Apparently not, muggle hospitals should have chairs this comfortable," Helen said relaxing back against the chair and John as they settled down to wait.

"That is also another point in favour of magical hospitals," he agreed.

It was grey and foggy when Harry opened his eyes, the echo of a sound ringing in his ears.

He looked about him a little puzzled as to where he was. Streaks of lightning flashed above the clouds overhead. He wondered if that meant it might start raining. He needed to wake up if this was a dream because he'd just run into the road in front of a truck and Hermione was going to kill him… Oh. Yeah, right. Just then a man came into view. He reminded Harry of Percy Weasley. Neatly dressed, clipboard in hand, fussy officious voice.

"Ah, you're here. Good, we can get this moving."

"What's going on?" Harry asked looking around him.

"You're currently dead, in case you weren't clear on that. The paramedics are driving you to the hospital and performing CPR hence the…" he waved a hand at the flashes above him. "Normally in such circumstances, we wouldn't meet until they had failed to bring you back. As it stands, these are not normal circumstances."

"How so?" Harry asked.

"More than one soul arrived when you died," the Percy lookalike said directly.

"What do you mean? How can a person have more than one soul?"

"They can't," the Percy man replied. "Hence the unusual circumstances we find ourselves in. Your soul is intact. The other soul that came with you is not. If the paramedics bring you back to life, then you will return without the extra bit. You need to consent to leave it here with us. I mean it's not yours, but there's a bit of a grey area since it came in with you, so it's best for everybody if you consent to leave it behind."

"So I'm not going to die?" Harry asked more confused.

"Well that depends, the CPR seems to be working," he glanced over his shoulder at the encroaching mist. "You might still die of your injuries of course, and well, naturally everyone dies at some point, but you, right now? Looks like it's a no."

"What are you going to do with the soul piece I brought with me?"

"Oh, we'll put it with the others. We've nearly got them all now. We've had a few in recently, and it's quite interesting."

"You've had more of them?" Harry asked. "But what does that mean? How can you have pieces?"

"It's complicated," the Percy man said. "And we really don't have time to talk now. Maybe later, next time we meet, I'll explain if you haven't worked it out." The man turned and walked away, as he got smaller it got darker until Harry was left entirely in the dark. Then he felt the pain arching through his body, the voices of the paramedics coming faintly in his ears, the wail of the siren. The darkness beckoned again, and he gave into it

When he woke again, he was in a room in a soft bed, from the feel of it. He felt awful, his tongue was thick like he'd licked a cat. He groaned as the light needled under his eyelids and stabbed his brain.

"Harry?"

"Oh good. Harry, are you awake?"

He made a noise, but it wasn't coherent and forced his eyes open. Hermione was sat next to him, and she looked a mess. He winced because he was very certain that was his fault, and that he was going to pay for it in ways he was as of yet unaware of. His eyes fell shut, the effort of keeping them open too much.

"Harry, it's Helen. You're in the hospital, a magical hospital. You've been unconscious for a day while they grew your shin and ankle bones back. You broke some ribs and punctured your lungs, damaged your internal organs and suffered a head trauma. They kept you in a magical coma until it was all fixed."

"You died!" Hermione's voice was high pitched and screeching.

Oh, that. Yeah, he was going to pay for this. He heard Helen murmur to Hermione and then he heard sniffles. He twitched a hand, and it was grasped in a small familiar warm one, Hermione. He fought to open his eyes and keep them open.

Helen's voice came again steady and warm. "You died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, they brought you back. You were technically dead for three minutes."

"Felt longer," he croaked out. His brain-mouth filter had never been amazing, but this spectacular failure left a silence in the room that was deafening. He opened his eyes again to see Hermione's face as she worked her way up into exploding.

"Right," Helen said, cutting off whatever Hermione was about to hurl at him. "Well you have had quite a lot of healing done all at once, and you are going to be groggy for a while now. I'm going to take Hermione home."

"No Mum."

"Yes, I'm not arguing about this, Harry is awake, and well, slightly delirious. He needs to sleep, and you need a shower. We'll come back once you've had a shower and a nap. A short nap but a proper one, not as a cat."

"Mum!"

"No, Hermione you are coming if it means I have to drug you to get you there. We'll be back later Harry." Helen leant over him, brushed his hair away from his forehead and kissed the top of his head. "I'm glad you're ok, don't scare us like that again," she whispered against his hair. Helen stepped back to be replaced by Hermione. Hermione didn't say anything, but he saw the raw emotion swimming in her eyes. She kissed him gently squeezed his hand and followed her mother out the door looking back over her shoulder as she went.

Harry gave into the creeping darkness. He'd sleep now, and when they came back later, maybe he could tell them about the grey place. Maybe Hermione could tell him why he had more than one soul.