The Great Sickness
Harry and Cho were at a teashop in Croydon look for new china for Dudley's wedding. Dudley had been quite reluctant to invite Harry and Cho, but Aunt Petunia insisted they attend, for her sake at least.
They were having real trouble in finding one that did not look too fancy but not too simple either. Harry said it really did not matter but Cho was adamant in choosing the perfect one.
"How about this one," Harry asked picking up a plate that had ivy pattern on it.
"No, it looks too busy, we need something simpler."
Harry sighed and with a 'Yes dear' followed his wife as she looked for more designs.
The Wizarding world was having its own problems, but they had bigger fish to fry than china patterns.
"Minister, sir!" a messenger came into the Minister of Magic's office with an urgent message, "There's been another outbreak, this time in the north of the country."
The person sat on the chair turned around and sighed; he was a very large man and took up a lot of the space in the large chair he was sat in.
"If we don't find a cure soon, all the witches and wizards will die out. We cannot let this happen I tell you!"
The messenger began fidgeting nervously.
"There is only one person I can think of," He said, "He can't help us but he knows just the people who can. Envoy! Send me Harry Potter."
Meanwhile Harry and Cho had settled on a china pattern and were now sipping tea with their own china, which was not as fancy as Dudley's.
Harry sighed, "I was on the phone to Gringotts just now, and we spent 6 Galleons on that!"
"Well at least we can now add to your parents' money and make our own for when we have children of our own."
Harry spluttered his tea. Cho just carried on.
"Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Yes dear." At that moment an owl came swooping down and dropped a note on Harry's lap. Startled, he picked it up and opened it.
"It's from the Ministry," he said, recognising the symbol on it.
"Well what does it say?" Cho demanded.
He continued to read it until he'd finished it, and then handed it to Cho.
"WHAT!" Cho shouted, "They can't send you now on your holidays to do a job for them, this is wrong and unfair. You go to that L."
"CHO! Please, there are people dying from this illness. It could be a new motive of the Death Eaters - germ warfare."
Cho sighed, looking to the ground, "Well if you must. But I'm not living here alone!"
"No of course not, I'll get Sirius and Professor Cumae to come live with you."
"It seems like only a few months ago they were married."
Harry looked up but didn't say anything. What Cho didn't know was that he had been expecting this for weeks.
"So you're going to send Hedwig back with a message as soon as you get there, yeah?" Cho asked.
Harry smiled curtly, "Of course, honey. I just don't know how long this could take and the Minister seemed so serious about this whole situation when I spoke to him by Floo yesterday."
Harry looked towards his godfather and smiled, "You will look after her won't you?"
"Course we will," Sirius said as his wife, the Defence Against Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts this year, packed a steak and kidney pie into Harry's car.
"Here are some more pies for your journey Harry dear," Professor Cumae said with a warm smile and her smiling eyes through her half moon spectacles.
With a final wave and a hug to Cho, Harry drove off to the Ministry of Magic Headquarters in London.
Cho started sobbing and fell onto Professor Cumae's arms.
"It's alright, dear, he'll be back. He's a strong lad!" she said reassuringly, "He's fought battles tougher than this. You got a real soldier in that Harry you know."
"Vena's right, Cho, if there's one thing I know about my godson it's that he's a real protagonist and no matter how many times he falls, he gets back up." "Let's hope so," Cho sobbed as the three finally made their way back to 4 Privet Drive.
Harry arrived at the Headquarters an hour after he had left Privet Drive. The place looked bigger than ever; there were constant rain clouds above the buildings which were made of colossal stone bricks and went so high into the skies that they were in the clouds. There were harpies sending messages and guarding certain offices, shrieking horribly. There was the occasional house elf as the odd person went by with them trailing after them like some juvenile and its parent. Cold and unearthly, the entire place looked like a family of great monsters.
Harry entered and signed in at reception. His heart was now doing a drum roll; although he had known the current Minister of Magic since his school years, he had changed since then and was a real authoritative figure.
He waited outside the Minister's office patiently, twiddling his thumbs absentmindedly.
A frail young woman came to the door, "Mr Harry Potter, you may see the Minister now."
Harry got up and opened the door slowly, as he did the hefty person in the seat turned around and cracked his doughy face into an unmistakeable smile.
"Harry!" he called, "Do sit down, old friend. Some tea for you or perhaps something stronger?"
"No, Minister Sir, no thank you, I'm quite alright."
"Oh and don't bother with that 'minister' nonsense, we're old friends Harry! Even my wife calls me Minister!"
Harry looked up; he was sat in a stupor in the chair opposite the Minister.
"Look I know this whole sickness has got us all down but that's why I called for you Harry! You're the best we have; this whole thing will blow ov."
"NEVILLE! Please, I'm sorry but I don't think I can be of much help at all. In fact I'm not even sure why you came to me. What am I good for?"
Neville leant forward and changed his face to a deadly serious expression, "Harry, do you remember a certain character called Vincent Crabbe?"
Harry looked up, eyes widened, "Why yes, he was friends with Draco Malfoy."
"Well then Harry, you'll be aware that he has become an expert potion maker since he left Hogwart, getting top marks in his NEWTs."
"I don't understand." Neville smiled and added, "Well maybe you will when I show you people affected by this sickness."
So they left the office and made their way to St Mungo's Hospital.
The receptionist allowed them to go through without question saying, "Ooh Mr Longbottom, sir go on through!"
They passed many wards full of people that looked criminally insane and beyond help, but they finally came to a ward that had been sealed off and people going in had to wear body suits. Both Harry and Neville were issued one before they went in.
The sight Harry saw was jaw dropping.
There were beds and beds full of people who looked so thin and wispy they were barely skin and bones; they were muttering nonsensically in pain and Harry could see bright red sores all over their arms and legs.
Neville tapped Harry on the shoulder and he followed him to one of the beds where the nurse was showed Harry something protruding from the patient's chest. He couldn't quite make out what it was.
"Can you see that Harry?" Neville said suddenly, "On his chest, it's in the shape of an eyelid. The doctors have noticed that when the victim is about to die, the 'eye' opens and bleeds until all the blood has been drained from the body. You see they can't try and stop the blood with pressure and the eye doesn't seem to let it clot so it's similar to that of haemophilia victims."
Looking down at the poor sufferer he knew what he must do, and he understood why Neville had said to see Vincent Crabbe. It was time to make old grudges obsolete and to save these people, for Crabbe was the only one who could quash this terrible illness.
Harry and Cho were at a teashop in Croydon look for new china for Dudley's wedding. Dudley had been quite reluctant to invite Harry and Cho, but Aunt Petunia insisted they attend, for her sake at least.
They were having real trouble in finding one that did not look too fancy but not too simple either. Harry said it really did not matter but Cho was adamant in choosing the perfect one.
"How about this one," Harry asked picking up a plate that had ivy pattern on it.
"No, it looks too busy, we need something simpler."
Harry sighed and with a 'Yes dear' followed his wife as she looked for more designs.
The Wizarding world was having its own problems, but they had bigger fish to fry than china patterns.
"Minister, sir!" a messenger came into the Minister of Magic's office with an urgent message, "There's been another outbreak, this time in the north of the country."
The person sat on the chair turned around and sighed; he was a very large man and took up a lot of the space in the large chair he was sat in.
"If we don't find a cure soon, all the witches and wizards will die out. We cannot let this happen I tell you!"
The messenger began fidgeting nervously.
"There is only one person I can think of," He said, "He can't help us but he knows just the people who can. Envoy! Send me Harry Potter."
Meanwhile Harry and Cho had settled on a china pattern and were now sipping tea with their own china, which was not as fancy as Dudley's.
Harry sighed, "I was on the phone to Gringotts just now, and we spent 6 Galleons on that!"
"Well at least we can now add to your parents' money and make our own for when we have children of our own."
Harry spluttered his tea. Cho just carried on.
"Wouldn't that be nice?"
"Yes dear." At that moment an owl came swooping down and dropped a note on Harry's lap. Startled, he picked it up and opened it.
"It's from the Ministry," he said, recognising the symbol on it.
"Well what does it say?" Cho demanded.
He continued to read it until he'd finished it, and then handed it to Cho.
"WHAT!" Cho shouted, "They can't send you now on your holidays to do a job for them, this is wrong and unfair. You go to that L."
"CHO! Please, there are people dying from this illness. It could be a new motive of the Death Eaters - germ warfare."
Cho sighed, looking to the ground, "Well if you must. But I'm not living here alone!"
"No of course not, I'll get Sirius and Professor Cumae to come live with you."
"It seems like only a few months ago they were married."
Harry looked up but didn't say anything. What Cho didn't know was that he had been expecting this for weeks.
"So you're going to send Hedwig back with a message as soon as you get there, yeah?" Cho asked.
Harry smiled curtly, "Of course, honey. I just don't know how long this could take and the Minister seemed so serious about this whole situation when I spoke to him by Floo yesterday."
Harry looked towards his godfather and smiled, "You will look after her won't you?"
"Course we will," Sirius said as his wife, the Defence Against Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts this year, packed a steak and kidney pie into Harry's car.
"Here are some more pies for your journey Harry dear," Professor Cumae said with a warm smile and her smiling eyes through her half moon spectacles.
With a final wave and a hug to Cho, Harry drove off to the Ministry of Magic Headquarters in London.
Cho started sobbing and fell onto Professor Cumae's arms.
"It's alright, dear, he'll be back. He's a strong lad!" she said reassuringly, "He's fought battles tougher than this. You got a real soldier in that Harry you know."
"Vena's right, Cho, if there's one thing I know about my godson it's that he's a real protagonist and no matter how many times he falls, he gets back up." "Let's hope so," Cho sobbed as the three finally made their way back to 4 Privet Drive.
Harry arrived at the Headquarters an hour after he had left Privet Drive. The place looked bigger than ever; there were constant rain clouds above the buildings which were made of colossal stone bricks and went so high into the skies that they were in the clouds. There were harpies sending messages and guarding certain offices, shrieking horribly. There was the occasional house elf as the odd person went by with them trailing after them like some juvenile and its parent. Cold and unearthly, the entire place looked like a family of great monsters.
Harry entered and signed in at reception. His heart was now doing a drum roll; although he had known the current Minister of Magic since his school years, he had changed since then and was a real authoritative figure.
He waited outside the Minister's office patiently, twiddling his thumbs absentmindedly.
A frail young woman came to the door, "Mr Harry Potter, you may see the Minister now."
Harry got up and opened the door slowly, as he did the hefty person in the seat turned around and cracked his doughy face into an unmistakeable smile.
"Harry!" he called, "Do sit down, old friend. Some tea for you or perhaps something stronger?"
"No, Minister Sir, no thank you, I'm quite alright."
"Oh and don't bother with that 'minister' nonsense, we're old friends Harry! Even my wife calls me Minister!"
Harry looked up; he was sat in a stupor in the chair opposite the Minister.
"Look I know this whole sickness has got us all down but that's why I called for you Harry! You're the best we have; this whole thing will blow ov."
"NEVILLE! Please, I'm sorry but I don't think I can be of much help at all. In fact I'm not even sure why you came to me. What am I good for?"
Neville leant forward and changed his face to a deadly serious expression, "Harry, do you remember a certain character called Vincent Crabbe?"
Harry looked up, eyes widened, "Why yes, he was friends with Draco Malfoy."
"Well then Harry, you'll be aware that he has become an expert potion maker since he left Hogwart, getting top marks in his NEWTs."
"I don't understand." Neville smiled and added, "Well maybe you will when I show you people affected by this sickness."
So they left the office and made their way to St Mungo's Hospital.
The receptionist allowed them to go through without question saying, "Ooh Mr Longbottom, sir go on through!"
They passed many wards full of people that looked criminally insane and beyond help, but they finally came to a ward that had been sealed off and people going in had to wear body suits. Both Harry and Neville were issued one before they went in.
The sight Harry saw was jaw dropping.
There were beds and beds full of people who looked so thin and wispy they were barely skin and bones; they were muttering nonsensically in pain and Harry could see bright red sores all over their arms and legs.
Neville tapped Harry on the shoulder and he followed him to one of the beds where the nurse was showed Harry something protruding from the patient's chest. He couldn't quite make out what it was.
"Can you see that Harry?" Neville said suddenly, "On his chest, it's in the shape of an eyelid. The doctors have noticed that when the victim is about to die, the 'eye' opens and bleeds until all the blood has been drained from the body. You see they can't try and stop the blood with pressure and the eye doesn't seem to let it clot so it's similar to that of haemophilia victims."
Looking down at the poor sufferer he knew what he must do, and he understood why Neville had said to see Vincent Crabbe. It was time to make old grudges obsolete and to save these people, for Crabbe was the only one who could quash this terrible illness.