Chapter 36: Holding Out for a Miracle
Harry tipped his spoon and watched glumly as the contents dropped gelatinously back onto his plate with a squelch.
'Yum,' said Lissa dryly from the end of Ben's bed. 'What is it this time?'
'No idea,' Harry rasped, pushing a lump around on his plate.
It was midday on Wednesday; the day after Harry had regained consciousness and two days after the trial. The three kids were recovering well and were already bored of the Hospital Wing. Lissa and Ben still tired easily but no longer felt weighted down by fatigue. As for Harry, his throat was still rather sore and he couldn't speak above a loud whisper, but he no longer required the oxygen mask. However, Madam Pomfrey had restricted to him to soft food.
When the strict matron had first informed Harry of his temporary diet, Lissa had insisted on having the same to show her support. The revolting breakfast that followed had been almost enjoyable, as Lissa had spent the entire time making exaggerated faces at the food and critiquing it in comical voices, saying things like, 'Oh my, I do believe someone's switched my plate with Umbridge's. I meant for her to have the scraps from the compost', or 'Bleagh! Malfoy's gone and added some slime from that hair of his.'
Harry thought her forced-jovial mood was a bit over the top, but since it was keeping Ben's mind off of the lack of news about his mother, he went along with it. They hadn't seen Sirius all morning, and when they had pulled together enough courage to ask Madam Pomfrey about Emily, the matron had just given them a sad look before bustling back to her office, blowing her nose loudly as she went.
A giggle from Ben pulled Harry out of his grim thoughts. Lissa was morphing her hair into a different shade of green after each mouthful.
'What are you doing?' Harry asked softly.
Lissa shot him a cheerful grin that looked almost convincing. 'Ben's idea. It's a 'grossness gauge'. Cool, isn't it?' She shovelled a spoonful of mush into her mouth. Her face screwed up as if she were trying to remember something, then her hair turned from lime green to a deep emerald. 'Bleargh, I'm pretty sure there were some brussel sprouts in that lot,' she mumbled around the mouthful of food.
'You know,' said Ben, peering at her plate critically, 'that stuff looks like a Hippogriff's innards have been put through a blender and slopped onto a plate.'
Lissa stopped chewing. 'It does?'
'Yep,' Ben answered seriously, 'and see that thing there? Well, it looks a bit like a human eye – Hey! I wonder if someone's looking for it,' he added, peering around the room, feigning excitement.
It had the desired effect: Lissa's face turned as green as her hair.
Trying to hide his amusement, Harry came to Lissa's rescue. 'Tone it down a bit, Ben. You don't want her to vomit the Hippogriff innards all over you.'
Lissa's hair turned back to its natural ash-blonde. A thoughtful expression crossed her face, as if she was seriously contemplating doing just that, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that it wasn't worth the trouble.
'Wotcher, everyone,' Tonks greeted, poking her head around the door. 'How're things going?' Her eyes flickered briefly to the curtained bed in the corner.
Harry set his plate on the bedside cupboard. 'Miserable,' he said hoarsely. 'We're being fed toxic gunk.'
'I thought as much,' grinned Tonks. She held up four Butterbeers and an enormous block of Honeyduke's chocolate. 'Here's a surefire cure for all your ailments, magical or Muggle.' She tilted her head. 'Come to think of it, I'm not sure Muggles are supposed to have our chocolate; it has magical properties. Ah well, more for us!'
Tonks perched on the end of Harry's bed and began snapping the chocolate into pieces. She tossed a few squares to Ben, cringing when they flew past his ear and out of the open window. 'Whoops, sorry. Here, maybe you'd better come and get some.'
Lissa and Ben clambered off Ben's bed and piled onto Harry's, accepting a Butterbeer each.
'Tonks, who's got Laura?' Harry asked, taking his own drink.
'Professor Snape,' Tonks replied, taking a long draught of Butterbeer.
'What?' Harry tried to yell, but it came out as a rather pathetic sounding croak that sent him into a coughing fit. The other two had overheard and were staring at Tonks as though they had never seen her before.
The pink-haired witch gave a shrug. 'Well, everyone else was occupied and he volunteered. Not many people know it, but he's actually great with babies. It's sweet, really.'
When they continued to stare at her in horror, her face broke into a wide grin. 'Got you! No, she's actually with Remus. He sent the chocolate, by the way. I think he's going to drop in this evening to see you all. But honestly,' she went on with a shudder, 'I can't believe you thought we'd put Snape on baby-sitting duties. Can you imagine him sitting cross-legged on the floor dressing up dollies in frilly pink things?'
They couldn't, but the thought of it sent them into fits of laughter. Their amusement died when a muttered oath floated down from the other end of the room. It was followed by the low rumble of grim voices, then a short mousy-haired woman in her early twenties darted around the curtain divider and down the aisle. She was wearing lime-green robes with an emblem embroidered on the chest: a wand and bone crossed.
A middle-aged wizard poked his head around the curtain. 'And bring back a jar of powdered bezoar, Callie! Be quick about it!' he called tersely before ducking out of sight once more.
'Yes, sir,' the woman said briskly, not pausing in her dash for the exit. She snatched at the door handle, wrenched the door open, and was gone...
After that, the four of them sat eating their chocolate in silence, and for a while the only sounds were those of the ticking clock and the low snap of chocolate breaking apart. Harry was only eating to have something to do with his hands. His stomach felt as though it had been tied in very tight knots.
A moment later, Sirius emerged from behind the curtains; he was unshaven and still in the clothes from the day before. Harry and the others watched him cautiously as he strode wearily past the rows of vacant beds. He saw them staring and came over to sit heavily in the bedside chair. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly closed it again with a sigh.
Tonks slid off the bed and moved to his side. 'How's Emily?'
Sirius rubbed his hands over his face wearily. He was shaking. 'She's still holding on,' he croaked out, 'they're trying another potion now... but... we just don't know...'
He did not need to finish the sentence. Harry knew what he wasn't saying. Emily was, as she had been for the past three days, hovering somewhere between life and death. Nothing was certain…
The next several hours dragged on. If Harry had ever sat through a longer afternoon, he could not remember it. The mousy-haired woman returned about fifteen minutes after she'd left, breathless and laden down with an assortment of jars and goblets, only to be barked at by the other healer for her tardiness. Tonks stayed with them until mid-afternoon, when she reluctantly left to go to work, almost colliding with Remus as he came through the door with Laura giggling happily atop his shoulders.
A steady stream of well-wishers dropped by over the course of the afternoon, including several members of the Order and quite a few teachers. During that time, Harry discovered a great deal about Emily that he had not previously been aware of – Hagrid told of how she had tried to smuggle a unicorn foal home via the Hogwarts Express at the end of her first year; Kingsley, who had been in Emily's year at school, recalled an incident where she had defended him to their schoolmates, even going as far as to get into a full blown fist fight with three Slytherin fifth years. Apparently Flitwick had happened upon them and, refusing to believe the claims that the petite thirteen year old had started the fight, put the Slytherins in detention and deducted fifty points, leaving Emily and Kingsley to walk back to their respective common rooms without so much as a scolding.
Professors Flitwick and Sprout brought a wreath of red, white and pink roses that would always remain as fresh and fragrant as the day they were picked. Professor McGonagall, her eyes suspiciously red, came by with a box of ginger-newts, murmuring about them being a favourite of Emily's during her school years. It seemed Emily had spent many hours in her office serving detention; the way Dumbledore later told it, Emily almost always managed to engage her in a lively chat that had both laughing by the end of it.
Harry was quite surprised when Madam Pince entered the hospital wing with a small stack of books to, in her words, 'keep the dear girl occupied when she wakes up'. It seemed she'd always had a soft spot for Emily, who was, according to Remus, the only student to date to break through the strict librarian's barriers. Even Professor Snape sent a short handwritten note, although it was just to inform Harry and Lissa that he still expected their homework to be handed in the next day.
Perhaps the most astonishing of all was Mad-Eye Moody sidling in holding a slightly wilted bunch of wildflowers he had obviously picked himself. He looked more uncomfortable than Harry had ever seen him as he shoved his offering into Sirius' hands, growling, 'For your missus, lad. Now, you look after her, you hear?'
A number of Harry and Lissa's schoolmates dropped in between lessons. Hermione and Ginny brought handmade cards that they had charmed to play chirpy tunes from the Wizarding Wireless; Ron delivered an enormous basket of foodstuff from Mrs. Weasley, and Annie slipped in to tell Lissa about a hilarious prank she'd played on a group of Slytherin fourth years. From Fred and George, Emily received a giftwrapped Hogwarts toilet seat and two packets of Howlers. Harry was at a complete loss as to the reasoning behind the second gift but Hermione thought it was their way of communicating their wish that she recover quickly.
'I mean, just think about it,' she mused. 'When Emily wakes up, she'll be able to send more Howlers to them. They really respect her for standing up for Lissa.'
Ron didn't look at all convinced. He just shrugged and put it down as another one of the twins' eccentricities.
The visitors gradually slowed to a trickle and by dinner they had stopped completely. The bed beside Emily's was piled high with offerings of flowers, sweets, cards and a few other assorted items. Harry and the others mostly sat in silence, watching the sunlight creep further down the whitewashed wall, occasionally raising a bottle to their lips, speaking only to check the time, to wonder aloud what was happening, and to reassure each other that if there was bad news, they would know straight away, for the healers were only a matter of metres away.
Ben fell into a doze, his head lolling sideways onto Harry's shoulder. Remus was sitting on the floor, half-heartedly playing with Laura, who seemed to sense their anxiety and was unusually subdued as she sucked intently on a plastic giraffe. Sirius was sitting with his head in his hands, whether awake or asleep it was impossible to tell. Every so often, Lissa would look around at the rest of them and open her mouth to say something, only to close it again with a weary shake of her head. Harry sat rigidly on the bed, his eyes sporadically flitting to the white curtains of their own accord as the hours ticked past.
Madam Pomfrey walked past them a few times on her way between her office and the isolated bed, but could only tell them that Emily was still hanging onto life. It was a weak reassurance, but it was all they had, so they clung to it, waiting… waiting…
When the sun had almost disappeared beyond the horizon, the middle-aged wizard, whom Harry assumed to be Healer O'Bryan, slipped into the aisle and gestured to Sirius, who dove off his chair and hurried over. O'Bryan looked exhausted and wan, and his face was ominously grim as he led Sirius to the deathly silent corner.
Ten minutes passed and no one emerged from behind the curtain. Wordlessly, Remus handed Laura to Harry and strode quickly to the end of the aisle. He called Sirius' name quietly and someone lifted the curtain a bit. After a few moments of conversation, of which Harry and the others could hear nothing, Remus turned on his heel and almost ran back to them.
'She's going to be all right,' he said, his voice weak with relief and tiredness. 'She's sleeping. You can all go and see her later. Sirius is sitting with her now. He wants you all to try and get some rest – insists that Emily will have his head if she sees you lot with bloodshot eyes and yawning up a storm.'