Switching Places
Chapter Four
Disclaimer - Harry Potter and all the other people who live in JK Rowling's head belong to her. They only visit me, I don't own them or anything.
/italics/ ~or~ /bold/ = emphasis
*thought* = thoughts
Italicized text without either of those marks are Parseltoungue and spells. For this chapter it is also the name of a quidditch team.
Once everyone, minus Sirius and Harry, were in the kitchen Remus broke the silence that had settled upon the occupants of the cottage.
"What's going on Albus? What was all that talk about James and Lily?" It was hard to tell if he spoke quietly to cover his shock or his anger, or whether keeping his voice in check was an attempt to keep himself from loosing control. Remus waited for a reply while he busied about the kitchen preparing the tea service for use.
Albus watched Remus while Severus quietly sat in a chair, "We should wait for Sirius," was all Albus said.
Normally Remus was the person telling other people to be patient, but really now. Why won't Albus come out and say what was going on? Ah yes, Sirius wasn't back yet. Who would really want to explain something more than once?
Shortly after Remus served his guests Sirius entered the kitchen, "Who was that kid? Where's Harry?" he asked without preamble as he sat down at the kitchen table. His voice wasn't quiet and guarded as Remus' had been, he was talking just above a normal speaking tone. Sirius wanted answers right then and there.
"Calm down Sirius, I will explain everything," Dumbledore replied evenly.
Sirius continued to glower and sulk, but said nothing.
"Now, in the beginning of the term Harry came to see me about a spell he read about. I believe you have all met a precocious Gryffindor named Hermione Granger?" Dumbledore raised an amused eyebrow.
Severus frowned, Sirius nodded, and Remus smiled. They knew her and they knew what she was capable of.
"Apparently she came across and interesting spell and Harry decided to research it. Eventually he came to me for information on it."
"What spell is this?" interrupted Sirius.
"A theoretical spell. The Avadageo Adissium Charm."
Remus' eyes lit up with new understanding, "He wrote to me about that spell back in September!"
Sirius looked slightly put out, "He never wrote to me about it."
"Poor mutt, feeling neglected are you?" Severus spoke with sarcastic sympathy.
"Are you the one explaining what happened Snape?" Sirius glowered at the Potions Master. "No, I believe not."
Dumbledore spoke up before the situation could dissolve into childish bickering. "Moving on, I gave Harry information on the spell. I had him promise not to share this information with anyone. Although I expected him to speak with Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, apparently he did not. Also, I only gave him half of the information he needed to perform the spell. There was plenty of evidence in the books I gave him that he needed more information that what was there." Dumbledore sighed, "My intention was to give him some insight into how the spell worked and then he would come back to me for further information. But that, obviously, is not what happened. Either Harry found another source of information or he tried to perform the spell with only the information he had. I don't know which as of yet."
"How much could Harry have gotten from those books?" asked Remus.
"He would have only learned how to open the rift to the void. There was no information on the second stage of the spell, connecting it to the fabric of another dimension."
"Void? Does that mean that Harry could have opened a black hole without the rest of the spell?" Sirius asked.
"Yes. However, I don't think that's what he did since we have another Harry here. Our Harry must have found more information elsewhere."
"Where could he have?" asked Remus, "I never heard of the spell in any respect."
"It's a very old spell, an experiment carried out centuries ago as a hobby by a Greek Warlock." Dumbledore stroked his beard in a thoughtful manner, "I wonder what Harry's other source was, the books I had were among the few in existence," he pondered.
"So, where is Harry now?" asked Sirius.
"I'm not sure, Sirius. I will have to re-familiarize myself with the books to even being to fathom what may have caused this and where Harry ended up."
"If Potter is missing, who is the boy upstairs?" Severus finally joined the conversation.
"That boy /is/ Harry. Another one." Dumbledore knitted his eyebrows.
"How can you know that?" Severus asked, frowning.
"Because he glowed gold. That's a sign that the spell has been used." Dumbledore gave Severus an amused look, "Give me some credit. I may have read those books over a decade ago, but I remember what to look for when that type of magic has been tapped into."
Severus looked a little lost for a second, but regained his composure, "So Potter and this other boy switched places?"
"I don't know." Dumbledore sighed, "There are a great many things that may have happened."
---*---
The sunlight sparkled and glistened on the snow covered moors surrounding the cottage. It was in the bedroom with the pale blue walls and white sheets that Harry Potter realized something. He knew it somewhere it the back of his mind, it was rather instinctual. But, alas, with the time lapse from the castle he couldn't be certain what it was. Not that those were his thoughts, he was really just trying to remember. He stretched and turned and pulled at his pillow. Still nothing that he was sure of. He uncurled, laid on his back, and took his glasses off the side table. It was then he noticed his watch. It was a special wizards watch given to him by his Uncle Peter. There were countless faces to this watch, each meaning something else. Mostly it showed the time and reminders about classes and holidays. There was a present for a birthday and it would say whose birthday it was if you put the date into the watch, a heart for Valentine's day, the seal of Hogwarts for school with the title of the class you were supposed to be in, a colored egg for Easter, a skull and cross bones for Mortal Danger, a can of Floo powder for when it's time to leave, a pineapple for home, and branch of holly for Christmas. At that very moment the face of his watch was showing "Christmas".
Grinning like a maniac, Harry sat up, threw the covers off the bed and ran out the door. He either didn't notice or didn't care that he was still in the clothes he'd been wearing the day before (and the day before that, and the day before that...). "It's Christmas!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.
As the eldest child of the Potter family and household it was his job to wake up everyone on Christmas morning. Not to worry, this is not an assigned job. He took up the duty himself. He was very proud of his job (and Rose being jealous of it made it even better). She would try to wake up before him, but she never succeeded. Harry was proud of that too.
"Merry Christmas!" he shouted as he reached the top of the stairs. He practically flew down the stairs. "Wake up everyone! It's Christmas!" he continued joyfully.
That is, until he reached the bottom of the stairs. It was then he saw the living room. There was no tree decked with sparkles and a star on top. Andrew put the star on top this year, he remembered because he had been there. The tree that /was/ there looked rather weak and depressed, the decorations dull, no star either. There were only two presents under the tree, but they did not have the colorful wrappings Harry was used to. The boughs of fir branches on the mantle of the fireplace were limp and there were no stockings. Only silence, no excited squeals from Rose and Andrew. In place of his parents sitting on the couch drinking tea with a tray of hot chocolates on the coffee table there was a harassed looking man clutching a burgundy blanket.
"What the hell are you yelling about?" he demanded groggily.
Harry just stared at the living room. An illusion? No. Reality. All of this was real. He remembered where he was, what supposedly happened. He was in a stranger's home, Dumbledore thought he was the enemy, Snape worked for Dumbledore, and the man who was his godfather hated him. The people he knew were missing, there was no Christmas here. No presents, no hot chocolate, no jealous Rose, no Christmas feast from Wigglesworth. "Nothing," Harry said quietly, "Never mind." He took a step back, intending to turn and go back up the stairs to the room but Remus was at the landing with a hand on the railing.
"Why were you yelling, Harry?" Remus asked kindly. Dumbledore told them last night that Harry might be a little disoriented.
Harry was very embarrassed to be caught in this situation, blushing greatly he shifted from foot to foot and fidgeted as he tried to answer, "I - er...that is...it's Christmas," he finished lamely.
"Were you trying to wake up the whole village?" Sirius asked gruffly as he rubbed the back of his neck. Sleeping on the couch isn't very comfortable for a person his height.
"That was the general idea," Harry replied sheepishly.
All three of them were quiet for a few moments before Remus spoke, "Would you like some breakfast, Harry?" he asked kindly.
"Yes, please," replied Harry, hoping against hope that Wigglesworth was here and there would be pancakes as he followed Remus to the kitchen.
Sirius stood up stiffly and stretched. "Come on, Moony," Sirius said as he followed them, "I feel like pancakes."
Harry couldn't help smiling. It was such a small thing to make pancakes, to have real maple syrup, but it made his heart hurt less to be there.
---*---
The shadow of the two Potter parents fell across the unconscious adolescent on the bed. The light of the late morning served to illuminate most of the room in such a way that only a cold, winter sun could. Lily sat in the cushioned hospital chair holding Harry's left hand between both of hers. Her dark red robes were rumpled but her hair was pulled back into a loose bun. James stood behind her, dressed in navy blue robes, while he slowly and softly rubbing his wife's shoulders. Lily had cried the first time she saw Harry, seeing her first-born wrapped in bandages and under a medication field was bad enough, but the scar on his forehead was too much for her.
She had peered through the field, her face just millimeters above it so that she could get as close to his tranquil face as possible without disrupting the field. It looked like Harry really had been attacked, the scar wasn't a natural shape. No normal scar is shaped like a bolt of lightning. It must have taken something powerful and dark to leave such a wound on the boy's head. The doctors promised to get to the bottom of the mystery of the dark red scar as soon as the more delicate medications in the field were lifted. Until then they could only speculate and observe. Lily carefully drew Harry's hand out of the field. Sniffling slightly, Lily rubbed his hand in between hers in the hopes that he would respond to her touch.
Rose stood on the same side as her parents, towards the foot of the bed with her arm over Andrew's shoulder in a commiserating manner as they both watched Harry on the bed. Andrew had his head resting on her shoulder while he fingered the small box in his hands. It was his present from Harry, inside was the Grenouille Plumpton action figure, chaser for the Caerphilly Catapults, Andrew's Quidditch team. He had been told he could bring the toy with him if he kept it in the box. James said he wasn't up for searching the entire hospital for the wayward figure if Andrew lost it, so Andrew had to promise not to take it out. However, he planed to break that promise the second Harry woke up. Whenever Harry decided that it was nicer to be awake rather than asleep, anyway.
"Do you think Harry is bothered by us watching him sleeping?" Andrew whispered to Rose.
"I don't think so," she whispered back, her eyes still Harry.
"What if he's just pretending to sleep and is just waiting for us to leave?" he looked up at his older sister.
"Even if that was what he's doing, it isn't going to work," said Rose.
"Why?"
"Because the nurses and doctors would know if he's faking it," replied Rose.
"What if he never wakes up?"
"Then you get his room,"
"But I like my room!" Andrew protested.
"Then you will sleep in the cupboard," she continued logically.
"Why? What about my room?" Andrew looked indignant.
"You can't stay there-"
"Why?" Andrew interrupted.
Rose gave him a superior look, "Because I say so."
"Mum!" Andrew slipped out from under her arm and dashed to his mother.
Lily wiped her eyes before turning to her youngest child, "Yes, love?"
"I don't want to sleep in the cupboard!" he threw his arms around his mother's neck.
"Why would you sleep in the cupboard?" Lily asked gently.
"Because Rose said so," he pouted.
"Rose, don't tease your brother," Lily reprimanded her middle child. Rose was in the middle of give Andrew an annoyed glare, but her mother's tone snapped her out of it. Then Lily turned to her husband who seemed to find the whole exchange amusing, "And you!" She gave him 'the /look/', "Don't encourage them!"
James tried to look repentant but failed, so he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You know Andrew has you wrapped around his little finger," he teased.
Lily pinched his cheek, hard, "And you know Rose has you wrapped around hers."
Rubbing his cheek he replied, "And we're both suckers for Harry's antics."
"True," Lily sighed and turned her gaze back to her oldest child, the mood in the room was once again somber.
---*---
*Harry, are you going to wake up? Are you alright? What happened?* Rose thought to herself as she watched Harry lay on the hospital bed. He looked so peaceful, even though he appeared fuzzy beneath the medication field. *Everyone's so worried about you...especially Mum. I'm worried about you. What if you really never do wake up? You have to wake up! I don't want to be the oldest! I don't know how you could be there during those times...like when Grandpa died. You sat through the whole funeral with your arm around me. You were so strong, even if you cried. How could you do that? I'm barely holding myself together now. I'm so scared, Harry ... but I have to be brave for Andrew like you were brave for me. Please wake up soon Harry, I'm sorry.* Rose angrily wiped her nose, *Please, Harry.*
---*---
"Are you sure I'm in the children's ward and not a classroom," asked a jovial voice.
Everyone, sans Harry, turned to face the person to disrupt the silence of the room.
"Santa!" cried Andrew just before he lunged at the tall man in the crimson robes.
"Hullo there little one," Santa patted Andrew's head affectionately. Turning to address the room Santa proclaimed, "Happy Christmas!" The sad faces that wouldn't meet his eyes didn't ruin the man's good humor nor darken the twinkle in his eyes.
"Now, now," Santa spoke in a thoughtful manner, "I know what a young lady," he looked at Rose, "such as yourself, would want for Christmas." He took a humongous, dark red bag off his shoulder and placed it on the floor. Though it looked like it contained enough treasures for a prince, there was plenty of room for more things to be stowed away inside it if need be. "As well as you, young sir," he continued to smile kindly at the family.
Rose watched, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, as the man dug into his enormous, velvet bag and soon disappeared. Andrew was utterly entranced by the thought of yet another gift.
"Santa!" cried Andrew. He tugged at the edge of the bag and tried to see into its depths.
Santa's hand rose out of the bag to wave him off, "Don't worry, little one. I know it's in her somewhere," he began to hum as he searched for the presents. "Ah yes," came his voice after a bit, "here we are." Santa climbed back out of the bed with three presents under his arms.
He was greeted by the delighted faces of two of the Potter children. "Which one's mine?" squealed Andrew.
"Shush!" Rose elbowed Andrew, "Don't be rude!"
Andrew stuck her tongue out at her.
"He only gives presents to good little boys and girls you know," Rose fumed.
"Well you're not little! You're twelve!" replied Andrew.
Rose held her tongue, this wasn't getting anywhere. It never did.
"Such loving siblings," Santa grinned at the two, now embaressed, children. "I know what it's like to have younger siblings and I know what it's like to have older siblings." He smiled at the two of them and handed them the presents. "Even if your mad at each other now, later you'll think the whole thing was funny."
The two children looked like they seriously doubted his judgment, but accepted the presents and gave two happy "Thank you"s. Before you could blink they tore into the wrappings to get to the gift inside.
While Rose and Andrew examined their new toys, Rose got a toy wand that made bubbles and sparkles come out and Andrew got a new set of gobstones, Santa placed the third present on the side table. "When he wakes up, this is for him," he smiled kindly at James and Lily.
"Thank you so much," Lily murmured, her eyes glassy.
AN - Sorry this took so long, the hospital scene was a bit of a pain. ^^;; I have a new appreciation for anyone who can walking into a depressing room and lighten it up. In fact, anyone who can cheer-up sad people or lighten a mood. It's not easy! x.x;;
Thank you's:
Practical Magic, Otaku freak ("No, he's just sleeping." - Monty Python), Firedrake (There's a simple and logical explaination for that, which I will get to eventually ^^;;;), tsuki tatsu (see Monty Python quote, hehe), DF Miei(Welcome, no problem ^.^), Avidia (You and me both...no, wait. I'm writing this...but I want to know what happens! hehe ^.-), Tidmag (he's kinda out of it...), Nicky (Um...eventually? ^^;;), neutral (skitzo PoV would be interesting. Talking to himself and things that aren't there while insisting on other things that are real. Harry #1 waking up will be interesting to write... ^.^), Lady Knight of Kennan
Chapter Four
Disclaimer - Harry Potter and all the other people who live in JK Rowling's head belong to her. They only visit me, I don't own them or anything.
/italics/ ~or~ /bold/ = emphasis
*thought* = thoughts
Italicized text without either of those marks are Parseltoungue and spells. For this chapter it is also the name of a quidditch team.
Once everyone, minus Sirius and Harry, were in the kitchen Remus broke the silence that had settled upon the occupants of the cottage.
"What's going on Albus? What was all that talk about James and Lily?" It was hard to tell if he spoke quietly to cover his shock or his anger, or whether keeping his voice in check was an attempt to keep himself from loosing control. Remus waited for a reply while he busied about the kitchen preparing the tea service for use.
Albus watched Remus while Severus quietly sat in a chair, "We should wait for Sirius," was all Albus said.
Normally Remus was the person telling other people to be patient, but really now. Why won't Albus come out and say what was going on? Ah yes, Sirius wasn't back yet. Who would really want to explain something more than once?
Shortly after Remus served his guests Sirius entered the kitchen, "Who was that kid? Where's Harry?" he asked without preamble as he sat down at the kitchen table. His voice wasn't quiet and guarded as Remus' had been, he was talking just above a normal speaking tone. Sirius wanted answers right then and there.
"Calm down Sirius, I will explain everything," Dumbledore replied evenly.
Sirius continued to glower and sulk, but said nothing.
"Now, in the beginning of the term Harry came to see me about a spell he read about. I believe you have all met a precocious Gryffindor named Hermione Granger?" Dumbledore raised an amused eyebrow.
Severus frowned, Sirius nodded, and Remus smiled. They knew her and they knew what she was capable of.
"Apparently she came across and interesting spell and Harry decided to research it. Eventually he came to me for information on it."
"What spell is this?" interrupted Sirius.
"A theoretical spell. The Avadageo Adissium Charm."
Remus' eyes lit up with new understanding, "He wrote to me about that spell back in September!"
Sirius looked slightly put out, "He never wrote to me about it."
"Poor mutt, feeling neglected are you?" Severus spoke with sarcastic sympathy.
"Are you the one explaining what happened Snape?" Sirius glowered at the Potions Master. "No, I believe not."
Dumbledore spoke up before the situation could dissolve into childish bickering. "Moving on, I gave Harry information on the spell. I had him promise not to share this information with anyone. Although I expected him to speak with Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, apparently he did not. Also, I only gave him half of the information he needed to perform the spell. There was plenty of evidence in the books I gave him that he needed more information that what was there." Dumbledore sighed, "My intention was to give him some insight into how the spell worked and then he would come back to me for further information. But that, obviously, is not what happened. Either Harry found another source of information or he tried to perform the spell with only the information he had. I don't know which as of yet."
"How much could Harry have gotten from those books?" asked Remus.
"He would have only learned how to open the rift to the void. There was no information on the second stage of the spell, connecting it to the fabric of another dimension."
"Void? Does that mean that Harry could have opened a black hole without the rest of the spell?" Sirius asked.
"Yes. However, I don't think that's what he did since we have another Harry here. Our Harry must have found more information elsewhere."
"Where could he have?" asked Remus, "I never heard of the spell in any respect."
"It's a very old spell, an experiment carried out centuries ago as a hobby by a Greek Warlock." Dumbledore stroked his beard in a thoughtful manner, "I wonder what Harry's other source was, the books I had were among the few in existence," he pondered.
"So, where is Harry now?" asked Sirius.
"I'm not sure, Sirius. I will have to re-familiarize myself with the books to even being to fathom what may have caused this and where Harry ended up."
"If Potter is missing, who is the boy upstairs?" Severus finally joined the conversation.
"That boy /is/ Harry. Another one." Dumbledore knitted his eyebrows.
"How can you know that?" Severus asked, frowning.
"Because he glowed gold. That's a sign that the spell has been used." Dumbledore gave Severus an amused look, "Give me some credit. I may have read those books over a decade ago, but I remember what to look for when that type of magic has been tapped into."
Severus looked a little lost for a second, but regained his composure, "So Potter and this other boy switched places?"
"I don't know." Dumbledore sighed, "There are a great many things that may have happened."
The sunlight sparkled and glistened on the snow covered moors surrounding the cottage. It was in the bedroom with the pale blue walls and white sheets that Harry Potter realized something. He knew it somewhere it the back of his mind, it was rather instinctual. But, alas, with the time lapse from the castle he couldn't be certain what it was. Not that those were his thoughts, he was really just trying to remember. He stretched and turned and pulled at his pillow. Still nothing that he was sure of. He uncurled, laid on his back, and took his glasses off the side table. It was then he noticed his watch. It was a special wizards watch given to him by his Uncle Peter. There were countless faces to this watch, each meaning something else. Mostly it showed the time and reminders about classes and holidays. There was a present for a birthday and it would say whose birthday it was if you put the date into the watch, a heart for Valentine's day, the seal of Hogwarts for school with the title of the class you were supposed to be in, a colored egg for Easter, a skull and cross bones for Mortal Danger, a can of Floo powder for when it's time to leave, a pineapple for home, and branch of holly for Christmas. At that very moment the face of his watch was showing "Christmas".
Grinning like a maniac, Harry sat up, threw the covers off the bed and ran out the door. He either didn't notice or didn't care that he was still in the clothes he'd been wearing the day before (and the day before that, and the day before that...). "It's Christmas!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.
As the eldest child of the Potter family and household it was his job to wake up everyone on Christmas morning. Not to worry, this is not an assigned job. He took up the duty himself. He was very proud of his job (and Rose being jealous of it made it even better). She would try to wake up before him, but she never succeeded. Harry was proud of that too.
"Merry Christmas!" he shouted as he reached the top of the stairs. He practically flew down the stairs. "Wake up everyone! It's Christmas!" he continued joyfully.
That is, until he reached the bottom of the stairs. It was then he saw the living room. There was no tree decked with sparkles and a star on top. Andrew put the star on top this year, he remembered because he had been there. The tree that /was/ there looked rather weak and depressed, the decorations dull, no star either. There were only two presents under the tree, but they did not have the colorful wrappings Harry was used to. The boughs of fir branches on the mantle of the fireplace were limp and there were no stockings. Only silence, no excited squeals from Rose and Andrew. In place of his parents sitting on the couch drinking tea with a tray of hot chocolates on the coffee table there was a harassed looking man clutching a burgundy blanket.
"What the hell are you yelling about?" he demanded groggily.
Harry just stared at the living room. An illusion? No. Reality. All of this was real. He remembered where he was, what supposedly happened. He was in a stranger's home, Dumbledore thought he was the enemy, Snape worked for Dumbledore, and the man who was his godfather hated him. The people he knew were missing, there was no Christmas here. No presents, no hot chocolate, no jealous Rose, no Christmas feast from Wigglesworth. "Nothing," Harry said quietly, "Never mind." He took a step back, intending to turn and go back up the stairs to the room but Remus was at the landing with a hand on the railing.
"Why were you yelling, Harry?" Remus asked kindly. Dumbledore told them last night that Harry might be a little disoriented.
Harry was very embarrassed to be caught in this situation, blushing greatly he shifted from foot to foot and fidgeted as he tried to answer, "I - er...that is...it's Christmas," he finished lamely.
"Were you trying to wake up the whole village?" Sirius asked gruffly as he rubbed the back of his neck. Sleeping on the couch isn't very comfortable for a person his height.
"That was the general idea," Harry replied sheepishly.
All three of them were quiet for a few moments before Remus spoke, "Would you like some breakfast, Harry?" he asked kindly.
"Yes, please," replied Harry, hoping against hope that Wigglesworth was here and there would be pancakes as he followed Remus to the kitchen.
Sirius stood up stiffly and stretched. "Come on, Moony," Sirius said as he followed them, "I feel like pancakes."
Harry couldn't help smiling. It was such a small thing to make pancakes, to have real maple syrup, but it made his heart hurt less to be there.
The shadow of the two Potter parents fell across the unconscious adolescent on the bed. The light of the late morning served to illuminate most of the room in such a way that only a cold, winter sun could. Lily sat in the cushioned hospital chair holding Harry's left hand between both of hers. Her dark red robes were rumpled but her hair was pulled back into a loose bun. James stood behind her, dressed in navy blue robes, while he slowly and softly rubbing his wife's shoulders. Lily had cried the first time she saw Harry, seeing her first-born wrapped in bandages and under a medication field was bad enough, but the scar on his forehead was too much for her.
She had peered through the field, her face just millimeters above it so that she could get as close to his tranquil face as possible without disrupting the field. It looked like Harry really had been attacked, the scar wasn't a natural shape. No normal scar is shaped like a bolt of lightning. It must have taken something powerful and dark to leave such a wound on the boy's head. The doctors promised to get to the bottom of the mystery of the dark red scar as soon as the more delicate medications in the field were lifted. Until then they could only speculate and observe. Lily carefully drew Harry's hand out of the field. Sniffling slightly, Lily rubbed his hand in between hers in the hopes that he would respond to her touch.
Rose stood on the same side as her parents, towards the foot of the bed with her arm over Andrew's shoulder in a commiserating manner as they both watched Harry on the bed. Andrew had his head resting on her shoulder while he fingered the small box in his hands. It was his present from Harry, inside was the Grenouille Plumpton action figure, chaser for the Caerphilly Catapults, Andrew's Quidditch team. He had been told he could bring the toy with him if he kept it in the box. James said he wasn't up for searching the entire hospital for the wayward figure if Andrew lost it, so Andrew had to promise not to take it out. However, he planed to break that promise the second Harry woke up. Whenever Harry decided that it was nicer to be awake rather than asleep, anyway.
"Do you think Harry is bothered by us watching him sleeping?" Andrew whispered to Rose.
"I don't think so," she whispered back, her eyes still Harry.
"What if he's just pretending to sleep and is just waiting for us to leave?" he looked up at his older sister.
"Even if that was what he's doing, it isn't going to work," said Rose.
"Why?"
"Because the nurses and doctors would know if he's faking it," replied Rose.
"What if he never wakes up?"
"Then you get his room,"
"But I like my room!" Andrew protested.
"Then you will sleep in the cupboard," she continued logically.
"Why? What about my room?" Andrew looked indignant.
"You can't stay there-"
"Why?" Andrew interrupted.
Rose gave him a superior look, "Because I say so."
"Mum!" Andrew slipped out from under her arm and dashed to his mother.
Lily wiped her eyes before turning to her youngest child, "Yes, love?"
"I don't want to sleep in the cupboard!" he threw his arms around his mother's neck.
"Why would you sleep in the cupboard?" Lily asked gently.
"Because Rose said so," he pouted.
"Rose, don't tease your brother," Lily reprimanded her middle child. Rose was in the middle of give Andrew an annoyed glare, but her mother's tone snapped her out of it. Then Lily turned to her husband who seemed to find the whole exchange amusing, "And you!" She gave him 'the /look/', "Don't encourage them!"
James tried to look repentant but failed, so he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You know Andrew has you wrapped around his little finger," he teased.
Lily pinched his cheek, hard, "And you know Rose has you wrapped around hers."
Rubbing his cheek he replied, "And we're both suckers for Harry's antics."
"True," Lily sighed and turned her gaze back to her oldest child, the mood in the room was once again somber.
*Harry, are you going to wake up? Are you alright? What happened?* Rose thought to herself as she watched Harry lay on the hospital bed. He looked so peaceful, even though he appeared fuzzy beneath the medication field. *Everyone's so worried about you...especially Mum. I'm worried about you. What if you really never do wake up? You have to wake up! I don't want to be the oldest! I don't know how you could be there during those times...like when Grandpa died. You sat through the whole funeral with your arm around me. You were so strong, even if you cried. How could you do that? I'm barely holding myself together now. I'm so scared, Harry ... but I have to be brave for Andrew like you were brave for me. Please wake up soon Harry, I'm sorry.* Rose angrily wiped her nose, *Please, Harry.*
"Are you sure I'm in the children's ward and not a classroom," asked a jovial voice.
Everyone, sans Harry, turned to face the person to disrupt the silence of the room.
"Santa!" cried Andrew just before he lunged at the tall man in the crimson robes.
"Hullo there little one," Santa patted Andrew's head affectionately. Turning to address the room Santa proclaimed, "Happy Christmas!" The sad faces that wouldn't meet his eyes didn't ruin the man's good humor nor darken the twinkle in his eyes.
"Now, now," Santa spoke in a thoughtful manner, "I know what a young lady," he looked at Rose, "such as yourself, would want for Christmas." He took a humongous, dark red bag off his shoulder and placed it on the floor. Though it looked like it contained enough treasures for a prince, there was plenty of room for more things to be stowed away inside it if need be. "As well as you, young sir," he continued to smile kindly at the family.
Rose watched, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, as the man dug into his enormous, velvet bag and soon disappeared. Andrew was utterly entranced by the thought of yet another gift.
"Santa!" cried Andrew. He tugged at the edge of the bag and tried to see into its depths.
Santa's hand rose out of the bag to wave him off, "Don't worry, little one. I know it's in her somewhere," he began to hum as he searched for the presents. "Ah yes," came his voice after a bit, "here we are." Santa climbed back out of the bed with three presents under his arms.
He was greeted by the delighted faces of two of the Potter children. "Which one's mine?" squealed Andrew.
"Shush!" Rose elbowed Andrew, "Don't be rude!"
Andrew stuck her tongue out at her.
"He only gives presents to good little boys and girls you know," Rose fumed.
"Well you're not little! You're twelve!" replied Andrew.
Rose held her tongue, this wasn't getting anywhere. It never did.
"Such loving siblings," Santa grinned at the two, now embaressed, children. "I know what it's like to have younger siblings and I know what it's like to have older siblings." He smiled at the two of them and handed them the presents. "Even if your mad at each other now, later you'll think the whole thing was funny."
The two children looked like they seriously doubted his judgment, but accepted the presents and gave two happy "Thank you"s. Before you could blink they tore into the wrappings to get to the gift inside.
While Rose and Andrew examined their new toys, Rose got a toy wand that made bubbles and sparkles come out and Andrew got a new set of gobstones, Santa placed the third present on the side table. "When he wakes up, this is for him," he smiled kindly at James and Lily.
"Thank you so much," Lily murmured, her eyes glassy.
AN - Sorry this took so long, the hospital scene was a bit of a pain. ^^;; I have a new appreciation for anyone who can walking into a depressing room and lighten it up. In fact, anyone who can cheer-up sad people or lighten a mood. It's not easy! x.x;;
Thank you's:
Practical Magic, Otaku freak ("No, he's just sleeping." - Monty Python), Firedrake (There's a simple and logical explaination for that, which I will get to eventually ^^;;;), tsuki tatsu (see Monty Python quote, hehe), DF Miei(Welcome, no problem ^.^), Avidia (You and me both...no, wait. I'm writing this...but I want to know what happens! hehe ^.-), Tidmag (he's kinda out of it...), Nicky (Um...eventually? ^^;;), neutral (skitzo PoV would be interesting. Talking to himself and things that aren't there while insisting on other things that are real. Harry #1 waking up will be interesting to write... ^.^), Lady Knight of Kennan
