Love, Fate and Prophecy: Bloodright
Part Four: Chapter One – Lost and Found
Opinion
The Chosen One Choses to Leave Homeland
By: Rita Skeeter
Britain's favourite son abandons home country in favour of adventure elsewhere. Will Harry Potter ever return?
No one has heard from Harry Potter. Mr Potter, Order of Merlin – First Class, famously left on a sabbatical to the United States last September. His mission, according to sources in the Ministry, was to conduct workshops and classes for American Aurors while helping MACUSA prepare for this summer's World Cup (the first to ever be held in the United States.) "Mr Potter did conduct some business at MACUSA during the Fall," one source told this reporter, "but he was frequently absent and has not returned to the Ministry since early December."
Potter's sabbatical, however, was extended from the initial four months to ten. According to the source above, he has not been seen by any American officials since he first returned to Great Britain for the holidays. "No one at the Ministry knows where he is," said one Ministry official, who requested that her identity not to be revealed. "The rumour is that he's gone round the bend," the same official claims, "and that the Ministry is covering it up by claiming that he's on sabbatical. But if that's the case, why haven't the Americans seen him in months?"
Why indeed? When this reporter reached out to the office of the Assistant Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – Ms Hermione Granger, one of Harry Potter's best friends and former lover, she received no response. Is there something foul afoot or has Mr Potter simply gotten bored serving the people of Great Britain, who still look to our saviour to serve and protect us?
Hermione stopped reading there and slammed the paper down. Rita Skeeter was up to her old nonsense. The rest of the article went on to speculate that Harry was either locked up in a mental institution in the Arizona desert or living in Vegas with a famous muggle pop star whom he had fallen head-over-heels in love with. Normally, Hermione would not have paid any attention to this sort of drivel, Rita Skeeter had never let up on Harry or his friends since the final battle and she suspected the woman never would. However, it was different now. It was nearly the end of term for Hogwarts, the time that Harry had promised Ron that he would return to pick Teddy up from the train station, but no one had heard from the Head Auror in nearly a month. And ever since Ron had told her about their conversation, there was something that wasn't sitting right in her stomach about it all. Which is why, as soon as her husband returned from working at the store that evening, she had confronted him. Enough was enough.
"Ron. Did you see this?" She asked, brandishing the article at the red-haired man. "Even Rita Skeeter has figured out something is wrong with Harry! I don't suppose you've heard from him since this morning?" She was hoping he had.
"No," he sighed in response. "But I told you that…"
"Yes, yes, I know," she interrupted. "You told me all about the conversation you had with him."
"I not only told you about it, but you also dragged me down to the Ministry so that you could view it in a Pensieve!"
"I just can't believe you didn't ask him more questions. What made his brothers so uncomfortable with magic all of sudden? What were they doing that he couldn't slip away just for a little bit to check-in? He never told us what was going on, but there are all these natural disasters, and I just, I just have the worst feeling about all of this." Hermione was close to tears. Ron pulled her into a hug and rubbed circles on her back.
"I know. But you know how I am, it seemed a little suspicious, but we decided that we were going to let him have time and space with the Winchesters."
"But what if they've hurt him? Even unintentionally, you know how fragile he is. They don't know how to take care of him!"
"He's not a toddler, 'Mione. But I don't think some American hunters could hurt him – he's Harry Potter."
"You didn't read the books, did you?"
Ron looked confused for a second. "Are you going on about Hogwarts, a History again? We graduated ages ago Hermione, I don't know why you…"
"Not Hogwarts, a History," Hermione interrupted, "the Supernatural books. The ones about Sam and Dean?"
Her husband looked a bit sheepish. "No."
Hermione summoned some books over to the two of them. Ron got a glimpse of one of the titles, "Something Wicked."
"Read these three books. They're quick, and they should hold your non-existent attention span. I'll put the kids to bed tonight. Once you're done, we'll talk. And then decide if maybe we should check on our best friend before those brothers of his either get him killed or kill him themselves."
xXxXxXxXxXx
Dean was just leaving Harry's room when a doctor entered. "Ah, Mr. Winchester, I was hoping to catch you today."
Dean was exhausted. He had barely slept since Sam's Swan Dive into hell. Between spending time with Lisa and Ben, picking up odd jobs where he could, and trying to figure out how to get Sam out of The Cage, he didn't have the time. The couple of hours of sleep Dean did manage to get always came in the form of blacking out from drinking. Honestly, he was a mess and he was expecting Lisa to kick him out any day now.
It was horrible to admit, but sitting at Harry's bedside was the best time for him to do research on how to rescue Sam. The hospital was quiet and free from distractions. And his pride would not allow him to try and contact Harry's wizard friends. Dean was hoping that Harry would wake up any day now and he didn't feel like he needed any help from wizards to take care of his younger brother. Afterall, he had taken care of Sam for years without any outside help.
"Yeah, sure," he said in response to the doctor. The man closed the door.
"I want to talk to you about your brother's preferences."
Dean was at a complete loss. "His preferences? Well, he has a girlfriend, but I don't know if…"
"My apologies. I meant his end-of-life preferences," the doctor said gently. "Did you have a chance to discuss those with him in the past?"
"Has something happened? Has he gotten worse?"
"No. His state remains more-or-less the same as when you brought him in. But after this length of time…"
"It's only been a month!"
"That's a long enough time that it is unclear if he will wake up. This is up to you, of course, but his body is in good condition, we could explore the possibility of organ donation."
"You want to cut him up? You want me to let him die?"
"That depends on your wishes. And his. We don't have any documentation from him – and I know you claim that his medical records were destroyed in a fire, but it is time to start making some decisions. Did he ever indicate that he would prefer to remain in a vegetative state instead of passing? If we took him off the ventilator, he would pass peacefully, without pain."
Dean saw red. This was his brother they were talking about. "No," he said harshly. "He'll wake up. He has to."
"Mr. Winchester…"
"No! You keep him alive, you understand? I'm not pulling the plug, not now and not ever," he practically shouted.
"Understood," the doctor responded. "Well, just think of the lives your brother could save. In the meantime, visiting hours are over, I'm afraid."
xXxXxXxXxXx
It was about four o'clock in the morning when Ron shook Hermione awake. Hermione was one of those people that didn't require a ton of sleep – she was annoyingly perky with only four to five hours, but she needed those four to five hours or all hell broke loose. Ron certainly knew that, but he couldn't wait for her regular five o'clock wake up time.
"'Mione, Hermione," he said. She moaned something and rolled over. "Hermione, I just found out that we have a surprise Transfiguration exam in an hour – and you haven't studied."
That woke her up. "What? What's the topic? Oh, McGonagall is going to…" she shook her head. "You're an arse," she said, hitting her husband with a pillow. She was fully awake now. "What's going on Ronald?"
"I just finished the books, and you're right. All I knew about hunters came from those books that I read as a child. I thought they were bumbling idiots taking shots in the dark. But the Winchesters…"
"I told you!" Hermione exclaimed. "I've been worried since this all began and you've treated me like I'm crazy. 'He's fine, Hermione,' 'He can handle himself, Hermione,' 'He's Harry Potter, Hermione'"
A look of guilt crossed Ron's face. "I know. I know, and as usual, I was wrong. But he said…"
Hermione hit him with a pillow again. "This is Harry we're talking about. He downplays everything. Always. But he's never left us out before, he's always taken us with him, but he has shut us out ever since that night that we forced him to tell us the truth. If only we had left it alone – he probably never would have gone back at all."
"You're right. Look – we were already planning on going to the States in July, we should leave now. Right now."
Hermione huffed. "We can't leave right now, Ronald. The children? Our jobs?"
"Right, right. This afternoon then?"
"Fine, this afternoon." She lay back down. So did Ron. It didn't last. She sighed. "We're not going to get any more sleep tonight, are we?"
"Nope."
"No point in pretending. We can start preparing now. I'll have to deputize someone and get my notes in order. You'll have to see if Lee can come in and take your place a little earlier than planned. And then packing for the children…well Ron, are you going to write this all down?"
Ron had already summoned a quill and parchment. He knew his wife too well. "Yes, preparation for Rose and Hugo. Mum and Dad already have a supply of nappies. But we'll have to be sure that their bags for America are already packed so that they can just bring them along if Harry needs us to stay, starting immediately."
Hermione couldn't help herself, she gave her husband a great big kiss. He dropped the quill and enthusiastically kissed her back. "I love you, Ronald Weasley."
"I love you too, Hermione. But let's get back to this list…"
She held herself back this time. Because this was important.
Several hours later, much of the work that needed to be done was completed. The children had been ferried off to the Burrow and bags had been packed. Only a few items remained, but time was of the essence, it was already approaching nighttime in the United States, and Ron and Hermione wanted as much daylight as possible to try and track Harry down. It seemed that most of the misadventures that Sam and Dean Winchester got into took place in the late evening hours – according to the books at least. This is why Hermione was annoyed to see Ron digging in the broom cupboard when they planned on being portkeyed out in the next fifteen minutes or so. "What are you looking for? You've already packed your broom, even though I told you that Ginny would be more than happy to loan you one of hers."
"Ah ha, I found it!" Ron yelled, pulling something out of the cupboard.
"What is it?" Hermione asked.
"It's our Harry tracker. I hid it in here after the conversation I had with him, to stop from being tempted from looking for him."
Hermione put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. "You mean to stop me from being tempted. I was wondering where it went. You know I never go into the broom cupboard."
Ron didn't even try to look not guilty. He was too busy staring at the device – which looked like a clock with Harry's picture in the center. "I think it's broken," he said, breathlessly.
"Hand it over, it is a new one – after the last one broke I put several charms on it that…" Hermione's face went white.
"You see what I mean? What does this mean?"
The device had several different zones of various colors to indicate how Harry was doing. Normal was green, labeled carefully in Hermione's handwriting, 'Anxious, but does not need assistance." From there it went up in varying degrees from the pink, 'Helping would just annoy him,' to the purple, 'Danger to Himself or Others.' The pointer was now in a position neither of them had seen before. It was in the white, labeled, 'no emotions detected.'
Hermione was shaking. "It should only land there if…"
"If what Hermione?"
"If he were dead."
The couple looked at each other. "Let's go," Ron said. Hermione nodded.
xXxXxXxXxXx
"Dean?" Bobby asked, surprised. He hadn't heard from the eldest Winchester since he had helped take Harry to the hospital almost a month ago. Bobby had taken this as a good sign. That Dean and finally well and good gotten out of hunting. Having one less Winchester to worry about was a relief.
"Yeah, Bobby, it's me."
Silence.
"Is something wrong?" Bobby had a suspicion as to what information Dean might now know – and he was slightly annoyed that Sam had bothered to swear him to secrecy just to give the game up so quickly.
"It's Harry."
Bobby let out a breath. "Harry?" That wasn't what he had expected. "What's he done now?"
"Nothing. Bobby – he still hasn't woken up."
That honestly surprised the old hunter. And he thought he was done with surprises. "He's not woken up at all?"
"No. And today the doctor..." Dean hesitated. "The doctor is talking about pulling the plug. Bobby, I don't know what to do. I can't give up on him, not after… I just can't."
"Of course not. But Dean, you don't have to do this alone – have you tried to contact his friends? Maybe something is going on with his magic."
"His friends haven't bothered to try and get in contact with him for almost a month," Dean hissed. "And he doesn't need them, he's got me."
Bobby could see that there would be no talking Dean out of it. Once he got like this, there was only one person who could change his mind and that person wasn't likely to try. Bobby wasn't very impressed with the youngest Winchester, but he wasn't about to be the person who spilled the beans and pulled Dean back in. And that's all the news would accomplish.
"Alright, alright. Do you want me to come out there? Talk to the doctors?"
Dean frowned. "No Bobby. I'm sure that you're busy with…well, I'm sure you're busy. Forget I called, I'm sorry."
"Wait – Dean," Bobby started. Dean hung up. "Balls," Bobby said. "Ellen!" he called, "I gotta go to Indiana."
Ellen popped out of the kitchen. "Dean?" she asked.
"Fine. It's Harry. No time to fill you in. Can you handle the phones for a couple of days?"
"Yeah. I promised Jo I'd be here anyway. You be careful, you hear?"
Bobby rolled his eyes. "When am I not?" He grabbed his keys and was out the door, silently cursing the day that he met John Winchester. Damn it all – he would do anything for those boys. No matter how infuriating they were.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Harry's flat in New York looked as though no one had been there in months. That really worried his best friends.
"We were able to enter," Ron said, trying to come up with any reason why their friend might be alright. And not dead. He refused to believe that Harry was dead.
Hermione was trying not to hyperventilate. She felt sick. If Harry had been here, she was sure that the answer to why the monitor acted that way would be clear, and she had planned to berate her best friend before whacking him upside the head and then giving him the biggest hug he had ever experienced. But he wasn't there.
"Wards don't change because someone has died, Ronald. You know that. Did we search every room?"
"Twice, at least. And the point-me isn't working. But that could mean that he's just out of range. Did you get anything when you tried?"
Hermione shook her head. "Ron, I'm really worried."
"Me too. But let's not panic yet. We know that he was on the road with his brothers. What else do we know?"
"That means he could be anywhere! America is HUGE."
"Hermione, look at me," Ron said, seeing his wife was very near a full meltdown. He needed her sharp. Harry needed her sharp. "We're going to find him. Remember that time in Australia? His magical signature was just covered the Dirawong. He was safe and sound and pleased as punch from the encounter."
Hermione took a deep breath. That was right after the war – when they had gone to go get her parents before the monitor had been linked to their best friend. Her eyes widened. "Ron! The mirrors."
"We tried with Harry…"
"We did try with Harry. But not Sam and Dean. Remember, we linked our mirrors to theirs after they were going to try and break into MACUSA to find Harry. Why didn't we think of it before?"
"Hermione, you're brilliant," Ron pulled out his mirror. "Dean Winchester," he said. Both looked at the mirror with anticipation. And they kept looking. And kept looking. Nothing.
"Try Sam?" Hermione asked, feeling her stomach sink just a little bit more.
"Sam Winchester." Same result.
The two looked at each other. "What was the name of that man – the older fellow that you had sent books to?"
"Bobby Singer. He lives in the muggle state of South Dakota, I always thought…" She paused. "Harry said that Bobby was as good as a father to his brothers. I'm betting if anyone can find the Winchesters, and Harry, it's him."
"What are we waiting for then?"
"Nothing, let's go," she responded.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Finding Bobby's house hadn't been that challenging, especially since Hermione had sent him books in the past. A quick look in the muggle yellow pages told her where to find his junkyard. Ron looked around in wonderment as they walked up to the house.
Hesitantly, Hermione knocked on the door. There was silence. The couple looked at each other. Hermione knocked again.
"Who's there?" Came a gruff, but surprisingly, female voice on the other side of the door.
"Er – we're friends of Bobby Singer? We had some questions for him." Ron said, trying to be cautious.
The door opened. On the other side was a middle-aged woman. She was pretty with lots of laugh lines lining her eyes and mouth. Her face was arranged in a scowl. But that wasn't the most alarming thing about her. She was pointing a shotgun at the couple. Ron was going to reach for his wand, but Hermione subtly shook her head. She put on her warmest smile.
"There's no need for that. We just wanted to speak with Mr. Singer, if that would be at all possible?"
That did not make the woman lower her gun, if anything, it made her clutch it even tighter. "Any friend of Bobby's would never call him Mr. Singer. Now I suggest you get off this property if you don't want to be shot." She waved the gun, in a gesture to the two on the porch.
Ron's face hardened. He would not be intimidated by this muggle or her silly weapon. "We need to speak with Bobby," he said, making sure it did not sound like a request.
The woman cocked the shotgun. Hermione knew what that meant. She put her hands up as a gesture of peace. (While doing a quick mental check of the wards that would protect her and her husband from any gunshots.)
"Look, ma'am, we need to speak with Mr. Singer. It's true, we've never met him, but he's good friends with our best friend. He's more like our brother. And he's been missing for a month and we're desperate to find him. Maybe you know him? His name is Henry Winchester."
Ellen's facial expression flickered with recognition. So quickly that anyone less astute than Hermione would have missed it. "What are you?" She demanded. "You need to leave now, or I will shoot you."
"We're friends, we promise. We just want to find Harry…" Ron started, before the woman pulled the trigger. Acting out of instinct, he quickly shifted Hermione behind him and drew out his wand, ready to curse this woman to high hell for daring to take aim at his wife. The shrapnel didn't hit him, of course, although he felt a sharp sting where it would have.
"Stup…"
"Ron, stop," Hermione interrupted before he could curse this woman. "She's a muggle, you can't use magic against her."
"But she shot me!"
Hermione gave him a look.
"You used it on those annoying twats that he calls brothers!"
Hermione stiffened. "That was different. They already knew about magic. And I was acting…out of haste."
"Alright then."
They turned back to the woman, who was just looking at them with shock. "You're wizards?" She asked.
"Actually, I'm a witch," Hermione corrected. "But yes, we belong to the wizarding community. You can only know that if you've met him. Maybe he used the surname Potter instead of Winchester?"
The woman lowered her gun but made no move to allow the couple into the house. She said nothing.
"Please, ma'am, do you know where he is?" Hermione asked desperately. This was her last hope that her best friend was alive.
Ellen crossed her arms and looked at them suspiciously. It was obvious that these two had the same powers as Harry, especially since the gunshot didn't do any damage. But Bobby had given her a little more information on the young man and she knew that he had enemies. And Harry had saved Jo's life so she wasn't going to put him in danger. At the same time, they hadn't attacked her yet, and she thought they probably could have if they had wanted to. "If y'all know Harry so well, why hasn't he told you himself?" She knew the answer to that, of course.
"Mom, who's that at the door?" Came a younger, female voice, from inside the house.
Hermione's face brightened. "You do know him! Is he ok? Is he alive? What happened? We're so worried."
The woman slammed the door. Ron and Hermione blinked. They could hear some muffled discussion inside. Hermione looked to her husband and tapped her ear. He understood and pulled out a bag and summoned an Extendable Ear and slid it under the door with a notice-me-not charm on it. They both listened in on the conversation.
"But who are they? Maybe they could help mom!"
"Jo, go back upstairs and call Bobby," the older woman said urgently and quietly. "We don't know if they can be trusted and are powerful. The bullet just bounced straight off the man! And Bobby's gone to Cicero to help Dean at the hospital, so he can't verify who they are. Harry has enemies, you know that. Hell, for that matter, so do the Winchesters."
"How is Bobby going to be able to help? He's got to be halfway to Indiana by now."
That was all that Ron and Hermione needed. They apparated back to Harry's house. When Ellen opened the door again, she was surprised to see that the couple had vanished. She silently cursed and pulled out her phone. Bobby didn't answer. "Damnit Bobby," she said to the answering machine, "I think trouble might be headed your way. Call me back."
xXxXxXxXxXx
It didn't take Ron and Hermione long to find Cicero, Indiana. It was still day time. Unfortunately, there were several hospitals in the area. They decided to split up. Ron was not as well versed in the muggle world as Hermione, they figured that any awkwardness from him could be explained away by the fact that he was a Brit in America.
"Point me, Harry Potter," Hermione said, at her third (or was it fourth?) hospital of the day. Nothing. She was beginning to feel numb – her heart didn't have any further to sink. She and Ron agreed that if they couldn't find Harry at the hospitals that next, they would search for Dean because that was the brother that the woman at Bobby's house had mentioned.
Thinking of Dean gave Hermione an idea. "Point me, Henry Winchester," she said and she once again as she placed her wand on her palm. The name she used with this spell shouldn't matter (and she would know as the witch who had invited it). Using it to find people was a slight modification on the spell that she had made for Harry while he was in the maze for the Triwizard tournament. Only a few people knew the spell – Ron and Harry included. She never registered the spell with the ministry because it was borderline dark magic. The spell pointed a witch or wizard towards the soul of a loved one. The trick was that the caster had to well and truly know the person they were seeking. Well, all casters except Harry, who never seemed to have trouble finding anyone with the spell.
The name that Hermione used shouldn't have mattered because she knew Harry so well. But she was desperate and willing to try anything. Much to her shock, for the first time that day, the wand lit up and pointed. She was so surprised she nearly dropped her wand. Tears of relief streamed down her face as she muttered the second spell that would give her general coordinates. She quickly apparated to the location. Look up, she groaned. It was the first hospital she had checked today.
She cast a quick privacy spell before saying, "Expecto Patronum." The happiness she felt that Harry was alive was enough to fuel the spell. "Ron, I found him! I haven't seen him yet, but the spell finally worked. Come here as soon as you can." She gave him the coordinates.
Walking in, Hermione could see that this was a normal-looking muggle hospital. She had only been a couple of times when her dad had had knee surgery, but this American hospital didn't look all that different from the British ones she had seen.
She approached the counter, where a woman was standing, clicking away at a computer keyboard. She supposed that she should wait for Ron, but she was too excited.
"Excuse me, miss," she said politely.
The woman looked up.
"I'm looking for a patient here. His name is Henry Winchester."
"What is your name?" The woman asked briskly.
"Hermione!" Ron called, running into the hospital. He jogged up to the counter, sweating.
"Ron, I'm so happy you're here. My name is Hermione Weasley-Granger, and this is my husband, Ronald Weasley."
The woman pulled out a file and flipped through it a bit. "I'm sorry, you're not on the list."
"The list?" Ron asked impatiently.
"The list of allowed visitors for Mr. Winchester."
"Surely you can just ask him? He's our best friend, I know that he would want to see us." Hermione pleaded.
The woman pursed her lips. "No, I'm afraid it's hospital policy."
"But – " Ron tried to argue. Hermione shook her head.
"Would you look again?" She asked, muttering a quick spell.
"Ma'am, I assure you," the woman started, only to look down at the list and see the names, 'Hermione Granger-Weasley' and 'Ron Weasley' right at the top. "I-I don't know how I could have missed that. I could have sworn there were only two people…" She shook her head. "My apologies ma'am, I'm getting toward the end of my shift. He's on the third floor, room 308A."
Hermione smiled warmly. "Thank you very much," she said as she walked beyond the desk towards the elevators.
"'Mione," Ron hissed. "That was illegal."
"And you would have done the same," she whispered back.
He considered. "Well, yeah, but I'm me, and you're…"
She shushed him. "Just walk as if you know what you're doing."
The couple quickly ascended to the third floor and found their way to the room number. They exchanged a glance before Hermione knocked lightly and entered the room.
Hermione gasped. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't this. Their best friend was lying in the bed, eyes closed, with muggle contraptions beeping all around him. His face looked like it had when they had rescued him from inside of MACUSA. He also looked pale and a bit emaciated. It looked like someone had been taking care of him, the blanket covering him wasn't a standard-issue, it was a nice quilt. There were a couple of pictures in frames on his bedside table. One was three young boys, smiling in front of the house that they now knew was Bobby's. Also, of the three brothers grown up, alongside the woman who had answered the door and several others that they didn't recognize. A battered book was also on the table – it was called Hatchet.
Ron looked down in complete confusion. "What's going on? Is he asleep?" He moved to go shake the man awake.
Hermione put out an arm to stop him. "No. He's not. He's unconscious."
"What's that in his mouth?" Ron asked, horrified.
"I think it's something that muggles use to help people breathe," Hermione explained.
"He can't breathe?"
Hermione shook her head. All the relief that she had felt at finding him was beginning to fade away. She sat in the chair next to the bed, feeling dizzy with worry. "Ron, this isn't good. Honestly – this machine shouldn't even work on someone as magically strong as Harry."
They both stared at Harry, completely at a loss of what to do.
Before they had a chance to come up with a plan of any sort, there was a sharp knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, a man dressed in a sharp muggle suit entered the room. He was probably around the same age as the trio, with dark black hair and a severe look on his face. He pulled out a wand.
"My name is Agent Williams, the Director of the No-Maj Emergency Services Department in the Office of No-Maj Relations of MACUSA. You are accused of using unlawful magic near no-majs. Identify yourselves and surrender your wands."
Hermione stood and looked at the man defiantly. She wasn't going to be intimidated by some puffed-up American bureaucrat.
"I am Hermione Granger-Weasley, Assistant Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of Great Britain, and this is my husband, Ronald Weasley, Senior Auror Emeritus. We are here on behalf of the British Ministry. This man here is a British citizen, and therefore, under our jurisdiction. You will find that we have diplomatic immunity."
This wasn't what Agent Williams had been expecting. But he was a professional. "Do you have IDs on you? I have been informed that that man in the bed is a no-maj. If he weren't, my department would have been immediately informed and he would have been transferred to a magical hospital. So British or not, you have no jurisdiction here."
Ron and Hermione conjured their badges. All looked to be in order except – "I see you are who you say you are, but that still doesn't give you the right to be near Mr. Winchester here."
Ron's face was getting red. "Do you not know who this man is? Did our names not give it away?"
The agent looked skeptical. "Am I supposed to?"
"Do you live under a bloody rock? This is Harry Potter."
The man's eyes widened. "That's not possible."
"Come here, Agent Williams," Hermione instructed, "have a look at his forehead."
He walked over. The mop on top of his head was also slightly messy, but his face looked different than he remembered seeing in pictures. Sure enough, emblazoned on the man's forehead was the famous lighting scar. He gulped. "But that means that you are…"
"Yes. Hermione Granger-Weasley and Ron Weasley," Hermione reiterated. His eyes flashed with recognition. He knew who they were now.
"How is this possible? If Harry Potter was here, I should have been informed immediately. Imagine, The Chosen One, treated by no-majs."
It was clear the man was panicking. Hermione felt that gave her the upper hand. "You'll have to tell me that Agent Williams. But, as you can imagine, this is a great security risk. For both him and the International Statute of Secrecy. He needs to be removed immediately and taken to a proper facility."
That seemed to snap the man out of it slightly. "Yes, yes, right away. Where should I have him transferred?"
"The closest magical ward with increased security. You know the hospitals around here better than I."
"Of course. I'll have him to Saint Gabriel's, immediately."
"And where, exactly is that?" Hermione inquired. He told her. She nodded. "Very good. We will meet you over there." She started heading towards the door. "Oh, and Agent," she said turning around.
"Yes?"
"You better be sure to get the obliviation squad is here as soon as possible. The muggles that brought him here are hunters and are, therefore, very dangerous. The highest security protocols should be followed."
"Hunters?" Agent Williams looked quite beside himself. "I'll have them arrested if they even step foot back in this hospital."
"Oh, that won't be necessary," Hermione responded, trying to backtrack a bit, having Harry's brothers arrested was not a great idea. "They don't know who this is. You don't need to worry about them."
"But – "
"I mean it. They're under the British Government's protection," that was a complete lie. But she was panicking. She wanted this man to take the obliviation seriously, but Harry would kill her if anything happened to Dean or Sam.
"Alright. His transfer should be complete in the next half hour. I will be there to get a full report from you so that we can prevent such a mistake from happening again in the future."
"Very good," She turned and left.
"What the hell did you just do?" Ron asked.
"It doesn't matter. What matters is that we're getting him out of here and away from those brothers of his. Can you imagine? It's clear that he's been here for a while and that wankers didn't even bother to try and contact us! What if this did lasting damage to him?"
Ron took a deep breath. He knew when it was better not to argue with his wife. "We'll deal with the Winchesters later. For now, let's go make sure that everything is properly set up for him at Saint Gabriel's. But this is good. He's alive. For a moment there I thought…" He trailed off.
"Me too."
The couple left the hospital and apparated away. They didn't know what had happened to their best friend but this cemented that Dean and Sam Winchester were not to be trusted. Both separately resolved to do whatever it took to keep him away from the Winchesters.
xXxXxXxXxXx
When a beat-up car approached Lisa's house and pulled into the driveway, it put Dean on high alert.
"Do you know who that is?" he asked her as she handed him a dish to dry.
"No. But Dean…"
"Get Ben and go upstairs," he ordered. She nodded and didn't argue. He would hear it from her later, but for now, it was easiest to do as he asked.
Dean grabbed a gun from his closest hiding spot and rushed towards the door. Once outside, he hurried over to the car, just as the passenger side door was opening. He pointed the gun.
"Hey, calm down Dean, it's me," a grumpy voice came, holding his hands up.
Dean lowered the gun. "Bobby?"
"Yeah, who'd you expect?"
Dean looked at him with wonderment. "What're you doing here?"
"You called me, you idjit."
Dean thought back. After leaving the hospital last night, he had gotten quite drunk. Slowly, it was coming back to him. "I'm sorry, Bobby, I shouldn't've called. You drove all this way for nothing."
Bobby gave the man that he regarded as a son a closer look. "Dean, are you doing alright?"
The eldest Winchester waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, great."
There was an awkward pause.
"You gonna invite me in?"
Dean looked back at the house. And thought better than to let Bobby in – that would be bringing Lisa and Ben far too close to the hunting world for his liking. Bobby could see his thought process and sighed.
"Well, if you're not going to let me in, why don't you and I go see Harry? Maybe I can talk to this doctor and see what's what."
Dean nodded. "Yeah. I don't know what you'll be able to learn that I haven't. But it's worth a shot. And I know that…I know that Harry would appreciate it. If he knows that anyone is there. Sometimes I think…"
"Well, why don't you get in the car, and we'll head down there."
"Sure. Let me just go tell Lisa."
Bobby watched as Dean walked back up to the house. It was about the worse he had ever seen the boy and he was quite concerned. Maybe leaving him alone hadn't been the right thing to do all along.
Dean got back up to the house and yelled up the stairs, "Lise, it's all fine. It's just an old friend of mine. We're going to go on a quick drive. I'll be back in no time."
Lisa appeared at the top of the stairs and swiftly made her way down.
"Is he…a hunting buddy?" She asked cautiously. "Is this a hunting trip?"
Dean shook his head. "No, no, I'm done with that. He's also a friend of Harry's. He's going to come to the hospital with me to say, 'hey.'"
Lisa relaxed a little. "Oh good, I think he could use the company. While you're there, could you pick up Ben's book? Last I went, he came with me and was reading it to Harry. But he needs it back for his book report due next week."
Dean looked surprised. "You took Ben?"
"Yeah, I hope that's ok," she said, searching his face for the answer. "He said he wanted to help. I didn't think you would mind."
"I don't. Just hope it didn't…freak him out." He pulled her into a hug and gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head.
"He's fine. I think it was good for him. It made him feel a part of your family."
Dean smiled slightly at that.
"Alright. Well, your friend looks quite impatient out there," she said, looking through the glass on the front door. Bobby did look quite bored.
"Yeah, plus visiting hours are over soon, so we should head over there."
She gave him a final squeeze. "Call if there are any problems?"
"Will do," he said as he headed out the door.
xXxXxXxXxXx
As neither Bobby nor Dean were big chit-chatters, the ride to the hospital was mostly silent. Because Bobby had helped take Harry to this particular hospital in the first place, he knew where he was going.
Confidently, as it was about the thousandth time he's walked in, Dean flashed a winning smile to the woman sitting at the front desk and nodded. "Hey Daisy, lookin' good. We're just headed up to see my brother," he continued walking.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going? You have to check in!"
Dean turned around and headed back to the desk. "Ah, really, Daisy? Is it because of this old geezer here? He's a friend."
The woman frowned. "I have never seen you before in my life," she said. "Now, who are you here to see? You have to follow hospital procedures. I have to check to be sure you're on the list."
Dean noticed that two security guards were approaching the desk. "Woah, fellas, there's no need for that. Daisy, it's me, Dean."
Daisy gave him a stern look. "And who are you here to see, Dean?"
He rolled his eyes. He didn't think this was funny. "Henry Winchester. He's in room 308A. He's been there for the last month. And I've come by almost every day."
She typed into her computer. "I'm sorry sir, we don't have a patient here by that name. Our records show that we never did."
"What?" Dean felt like he was going crazy. "That can't be right. He's in a freakin' coma!"
Dean caught the quick look that Daisy gave the security guards. She clearly thought he was insane. "Sir, we don't even have any coma patients at the moment. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
So many emotions were swirling in Dean's head. Mostly rage, but a lot of worry. He was going to start arguing again, but Bobby interrupted.
"Son, I think we might have the wrong hospital," Bobby said, putting his hand on Dean's shoulder. "So sorry for the inconvenience." The look in his eyes convinced Dean to leave with him. As soon as they were out in the parking lot, Dean turned to Bobby.
"What the hell is going on here, Bobby? I was here, just last night. I talked to the doctor, went and got drunk, and then called you. He's there, I tell you, he's there!" He yelled.
"Calm down, Dean. I believe you. There is something fishy going on here. I'm sure there's a door we can sneak into and go check."
Dean's thoughts were too cloudy to even be able to think of what could have possibly happened in the last twelve hours or so, but he followed Bobby's lead. The two men circled the building until they found an entrance. From there, it was easy to sneak into the building and make their way up to the third floor. Being a hospital in Cicero, Indiana, it was hardly a challenge for the seasoned hunters.
When they arrived at room 308A – where Harry had been only hours before, they saw that there was no one. It was an empty room, ready for a patient. Dean stared in disbelief.
"Bobby, I swear, he was here, just last night. Everything is gone. The blankets that Lisa had brought and the pictures. Even Ben's book. Shit, we're going to have to get him a new one." As the shock of the empty room began to wear off, the panic began to set in. "Crap. Bobby, he couldn't even breathe on his own. Could this mean…do you think that he is…" He couldn't even say it. Harry was the last family he left and Sam had asked him, specifically, to take care of him. It was one of his brother's last wishes, and he had failed. Sam had given him one last job and he couldn't even do that. The world started crashing in on him a bit. With both his brother's gone and no leads on either, what would he do?
Bobby could see that Dean was starting to spiral. "We're not gonna learn anything by sticking around here. Let's go someplace else to talk."
A half an hour later, Bobby and Dean were a diner. Bobby would have preferred a bar, but he thought that maybe drinking wouldn't be the best solution for Dean at the moment.
"Alright, we gotta work this like we would any other case. When exactly did you leave the hospital last night?"
"Around six."
Bobby looked at his watch. He had driven almost all night, with a couple of hours rest in a motel in between. "We got to the hospital quarter to two this afternoon. That's about twenty hours. Now, that's quite a bit of time. How often had you been coming in?"
"Every day. Sometimes for just a couple of minutes."
"So, the security guards and the front desk woman would have known you on sight, correct?"
"Yes, Bobby, I don't see how this will help!"
"They must have had their memories wiped. And who do we know who can do that?" Bobby asked pointedly, ignoring Dean being dense.
Comprehension crossed Dean's face. "Angels," he said.
"Yes, angels. But you haven't heard from them at all since the Battle Royale?"
"No, Cas hasn't been in touch. But I'm out of the loop for the rest of the world. Have they been causing trouble?"
Bobby shook his head. "There has been no sign of them at all. Plus, we know how thorough they are when they want people to forget. Which leaves us with one other option."
"Wizards," Dean finally realized.
"Wizards," Bobby confirmed.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Hermione was pacing anxiously outside of Harry's hospital room. The healers had kicked the two of them out almost as soon as they had arrived. Ron was off trying to get in touch with Ginny, knowing that his little sister would kill him if he didn't. However, as it was getting quite close to the World Cup, she was running (and flying) around so much that she was hard to pinpoint. He had finally given up on the mirror and just went straight to the pitch where the UK team was practicing. Which left Hermione alone.
A healer stuck her head out the door. "Mrs. Granger-Weasley?" She asked.
"Yes, yes, of course. Is everything alright? Is he ok? Is he going to be ok? What's going on?"
"Why don't you come in here and talk with us all. We think we've gotten to the bottom of it all."
Hermione couldn't even allow herself to feel relief at that news. She was still too worried. She quickly entered the room. The healers were huddled to the side of Harry's bed. He was looking a touch better than he had in the muggle hospital bed, but his eyes were still closed.
The healers seem to conclude whatever it was that they were talking about and most of them shuffled out leaving just one.
"Ah, Mrs. Granger-Weasley, it is an honor to meet you, I never imagined that I would get the opportunity. Although, I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."
Hermione didn't have the patience for niceties. "What's going on with Harry?"
The Healer glanced over at the bed. "I would first, like to apologize that the administrator didn't recognize him before your visit. Under normal circumstances, we would have identified a wizard in a no-maj hospital as soon as they were admitted. But Mr. Potter's case is a bit different."
Hermione said nothing, although she would have loved to yell at the witch for not getting to the bloody point.
"We have concluded a thorough review of his case file from the no-maj doctors and examined him ourselves and we believe that he is suffering from a severe case of magical exhaustion."
"Magical exhaustion?" Hermione asked, incredulous. Magical exhaustion was a problem for the less-magically inclined. "He's been in a coma for a month because of magical exhaustion? I have known Harry for a very long time and I've never known him to even approach it. How is that possible?"
The healer looked slightly uncomfortable. "He is quite strong, magically. The strongest I've ever seen. We believe that he would have recovered far quicker if he hadn't been on the no-maj breathing machine. When Mr. Potter was moved, we were worried that he would require spell work to continue breathing, but, as you can see if he breathing just fine on his own. It's possible, in his weakened state, that his magic couldn't replenish with all the machines around him."
Hermione nodded, but her mind was racing. Technology didn't break Harry – Harry broke technology. She doubted that these American healers had any idea what was going on with him, which terrified her. He did have a specific healer that he saw in Britain, and she was trying to decide if maybe it would be best to fetch him.
Before she had a chance though, the room was invaded by a pair of redheads.
"Harry!" Ginny yelled, running over to her boyfriend's bedside.
"Shh," the healer shushed her. "Mr. Potter needs calm."
Ginny glared, but Hermione could tell from her face that she had been crying. "What's wrong with him? Why isn't he awake?"
"Ginny, I told you, we don't know what happened…"
"Don't you dare talk to me, Ronald Weasley. I can't believe that Harry was missing and you didn't bother to tell me before now. You and I will be having words later," she turned back to the healer. "Please, will he be alright?"
The healer looked quite flustered. Hermione suspected that she was also star-struck. It wasn't often that an International Quidditch star and famous girlfriend of Harry Potter came storming into hospital rooms.
"Calm down, Ginny, have a seat," Hermione said. "Healer…" she didn't know the woman's name.
"James. My name is Cecelia James."
"Healer James. Would you mind terribly telling Ginny and Ron what you told me? You explain it far better than I could." Hermione wanted to know if her husband and sister-in-law found the healer's explanation as ridiculous as she did.
Healer James shared the whole diagnosis again. As soon as she was done, the looks on Ginny and Ron's faces were enough for Hermione to know that they bought that explanation just as much as she did.
"Thank you, Healer James. If he doesn't require any further medical attention at this time, might we have a couple of minutes alone with him? Maybe being surrounded by his family will make him feel more comfortable."
"Oh, Mrs. Granger-Weasley, of course. You are all so wonderful. Who knows where this poor boy would be without you? I know he gets most of the attention, but don't think that the world has forgotten about the three of you. It's so sweet. I've already given him his potions, he'll need another round in a couple of hours, but until then, yes, family can only help."
"Thank you, Healer James."
She left.
"Well, that was a fat load of rubbish if I ever heard any," Ron said as soon as she left.
"I agree," Hermione said. "I just wanted to see if you did. Do you think it's worth requesting his Healer from home come over? I don't think these healers have any idea what they are dealing with. Hardly anyone would when it comes to him. If not his Healer, I'm sure Madame Pomfrey would be willing to make the trip. Magical exhaustion, my arse. What do you think Ginny?"
Ginny hadn't really been listening to anything the healer had been talking about. She realized pretty quickly that the woman didn't have a clue, so she had turned her attention to Harry.
"He's so still," she said. Her eyes were misty. "I had no idea anything was wrong! Ron told me that he was going to be out of contact for a bit, and I just…I just let myself get distracted by Quidditch of all things. What if we could have prevented this?"
Hermione put a comforting hand on Ginny's shoulder. "You know when Harry gets an idea in his head, there is no stopping him. He was up to something quite dangerous and didn't want us to know."
"But why?" Ginny all but wailed. "We've been at his side through everything. You two even more so than me. Why now? I just don't understand."
In a surprising moment of wisdom, Ron said, "It's because it's his brothers. Family. Real, blood family, something he's never really had before. And he's terrified that they will reject him."
A stormy look crossed Ginny's face. "If they reject him, I'll kill them myself."
"You'll have to get in line," Ron said. "Probably behind mum."
The three of them sat in the hospital room with him for the rest of the day.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Dean had been hoping to avoid taking this next step, but he couldn't see any way around it. Harry had vanished a week ago. After a conversation with Ellen, it was obvious what had likely happened to him. The eldest Winchester had been stubborn though, determined to find his brother on his own, but he wasn't making any headway. The Sam in his head told him that he was being an idiot. And he had to agree with his younger brother, just this once.
He took the cover off the Impala. He had repaired the car and then left it in the garage, not wanting any reminders of his old life. But what he needed was in here. He just wasn't sure where. First, he looked in the glove compartment, but, of course, the logical place to have left the item would not be where he would find it. He looked all around the interior, before finally sighing and going for the trunk. It took him a good half an hour, but eventually, he found it. The small mirror that would connect him to Harry's no-good brother-napping, so-called friends.
He stared at it for a moment, trying to sort through his thoughts and what he was going to say. Then he realized that was ridiculous.
"Hermione Granger-Weasley," he said into the mirror. He waited. But not long. The woman appeared within a couple of minutes.
"Yes?" She asked. And then she saw who it was and scowled. "You. What could you possibly want?"
"My brother. You stole him! Where the hell is he? You tell me right now or I'll…"
"You'll what? Attack me with your silly muggle weapons? They can't hurt me."
"I will find you. I've faced far scarier people than you. You give me my brother back."
She tipped her head. "No. You almost killed him. A couple more days in that muggle hospital and he would have died. We've gotten him proper medical attention now. He's with his family and we won't let anyone or anything hurt him. Unlike you. You already have a brother. You stay the fuck away from mine."
Dean was relieved to hear that Harry was alive. But he was also furious. "I'm his family, you bitch. You didn't even bother looking for him! Tell me where he is. Now."
She glared. "No. Bye Dean, I doubt we'll ever speak again." She left.
Dean threw the mirror on the floor. By some miracle (ok, it was probably magic) it didn't shatter. He punched the wall. If that…witch thought that he could keep him from his only remaining family she had another thing coming.
xXxXxXxXxXx
It was late. Or early. Harry couldn't tell. Whatever time of day it was, it was pitch black as he slowly came to. He felt…different. But good. It took a couple of minutes but he was slowly able to take in his surroundings. A hospital. Great, his favorite. He started to sit up and found it surprisingly difficult. Like he hadn't moved for months. He groaned.
"Harry?" A sleepy voice came from a dark corner of the room.
"Yeah?" He croaked, his voice feeling very rusty.
"Harry! You're awake!" Before he knew it, Ginny was hugging him tightly. And she was sobbing. "We were so worried!"
"Where am I?"
"Indianapolis. In the States."
That confused him. "But I never come to the…" He stopped. His memories came flooding in. Going to the graveyard, killing Michael, not being able to stop Sam's descent and white flames engulfed his body. "Where are my brothers?" he asked. Ginny said nothing. "Ginny, where are they?"
"I'm sure they're fine, but they're not here. We're in a proper hospital, not the crappy muggle one they put you in."
"Ginny, I need to find them. Now."
"Calm down. You need to rest," she said.
Even in his anxiety, he could feel that even this little bit of moment had taken a toll on him. He struggled to keep his eyes open.
"But I have…"
"Shh, they're fine, go back to sleep." She kissed him softly on his forehead.
He didn't want to, but his eyelids felt too heavy to stay awake any longer. His world went black.
AN – And here we are in the first chapter of the sequel! A very special thanks to Fangtasia21 who suggested a title for this section. While I decided to go a slightly different way, I would not have thought of the title without them. ICYMI, the title of the sequel is Bloodright.
Not a ton of action here and fair warning, the beginning of this sequel even strays into some straight-up fluff. Do not fret though, we will return to our regularly scheduled angst quickly enough. On another note, I don't think I realized that I was a Dean girl until I started writing this fanfic. I thought I was all about Castiel, but I think my heart truly lies with Dean.
Thank you all soooo much for all the reviews and comments. My apologies for getting behind on replies between fics. (A reminder, on ff dot net, the replies can be found in my profile.)
I will be resuming my regular weekly posting schedule. Next chapter is called Suburbia, unless I manage to come up with a better title for it during the week.
Please leave a comment or review!
