CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: Recovery
Feet pattering against the floor, and loud moaning coming from every possible direction tore Harry from his unconscious state. He was lying on a cot inside the Great Hall, and surrounding him were row upon row of makeshift beds. Each one was occupied by a student, some unconscious, while others nursed minor to severe injuries.
With some difficulty Harry pushed himself off the cot and onto his feet. He lifted up his shirt to see the wound on his lower abdomen hastily bandaged, but he felt minimal discomfort from it. Madame Pomfrey must have given him a healing sedative.
Walking through the maze of beds, he noticed several dozen nurses he had never seen before tending to those of greatest need. The Ministry had to have brought them in to help with the crisis. If they had medical personnel to expense perhaps the damage away from Hogwarts was minimal. But Harry did not really want to think about any of that right now.
Someone was calling his name. He barely had time to register who it was before a blur of arms flung themselves around his neck.
"Everyone was so worried when you passed out," Hermione said once she had released him. "You lost a lot of blood. Sirius – "
"Sirius was here?"
"He still is. He's outside with the other ministry officers searching through the wreckage."
There was no need for her to say they were searching for bodies, because Harry knew well enough there were probably many unaccounted students and teachers.
"How's Ron?"
Her face fell. "He's the same," she replied, unable to mask the deep worry in her voice.
"Can we see him?"
"I was just on my way back there. His family's with him right now."
Harry found it difficult to keep his voice steady when he voiced his next question. "Ginny?"
Hermione silently shook her head. For Harry's sake she tried to keep the concern from her face.
The halls were eerily deserted. They saw the occasional ministry worker investigating areas that had been brutally damaged or destroyed, jotting down notes presumably on how much it would cost to fix it all.
When they reached the hospital wing and saw the beds lined with casualties filling the connected hallway and the medical ward, there was no doubt this was where the most serious injured were being kept. Harry kept this thought to himself though, not wanting to worry Hermione anymore then she already was. Of course, knowing Hermione she had probably already figured that out for herself.
They found Ron's bed near the wall on the far side of the room. His mother, the twins, and Charlie were all crowded around him. When Harry was close enough, Mrs. Weasley all but threw her arms around him.
"Harry, dear, you had us all so worried! Are you sure you should be walking around? Your injuries – "
"Mum, he made it up here in one piece. I think he's all right," Charlie gently said to his mother.
Harry was grateful to Ron's older brother. He was the last person Mrs. Weasley should be fussing over when her own son was lying there, still and seemingly lifeless except for the small up and down movement of his chest when he breathed.
"I'm just so happy you're all safe," said Mrs. Weasley, wiping tears from her eyes. "Arthur and Percy are overrun with situations back in London, and Bill couldn't get out of Egypt with all the riots that started down there. Harry, are you sure you're all right? You look like you've been put through the mill."
That was because he had. "I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, really," he said, trying to deflect some of her concern.
She seemed to let the concern of his health drop. Harry knew they were all dying to know what had happened between him and Lord Voldemort, but they were respectful enough not to ask. He didn't feel ready to divulge any stories at the moment. Defeating Voldemort meant nothing to him as long as Ron stayed in the state he was.
"Arthur said the moment he got a break he was going to come down here – "
Mrs. Weasley suddenly stopped talking and before anyone could question why, she was rushing towards the doorway.
She flung her arms around her daughter much the same way she had done with Harry.
"I knew you'd be all right," Mrs. Weasley cried, holding Ginny tightly. When their reunion was over, Ginny was fiercely hugged by each of her brothers in turn. She managed to exchange a quick smile with Harry, which he returned, before her brother's started hounding her with questions about what had happened over where she had been.
It wasn't long before Harry started feeling out of place. The Weasley's probably wanted some time together now that they were reunited with their daughter, and Hermione, being as good as family to them, Harry felt he should give them some time alone. Honorary Weasley or not, he did not want to intrude. As discreetly as he could, he detached himself from Ron's family and left the hospital wing.
From the moment he set foot in the hallway, he could hear someone shouting his name. Sirius, who was moving faster than Harry had ever seen him, reached his godson in record time and pulled him into a tight bear hug.
"I went into the Great Hall and you weren't there, and nobody seemed to know where you went. Are you sure you're not taking any chances by being up and around?"
"I needed to see Ron," Harry stated.
Sirius' features softened. "How is he?"
"The same," Harry said with a shrug. He couldn't bring himself to say how bad it looked. "The Weasley's and Hermione are with him now."
"So why aren't you in there?"
"I didn't want to intrude."
"Harry, you wouldn't be. You're as much a part of their family as any Weasley. I bet Molly was so thankful to see you were all right."
"When did you get here?" Harry asked, changing the subject. As much as Harry still resented his godfather, he couldn't help but be glad to see him. Sirius really was the only family he had.
"As soon as reports started flying in by the dozen about cloaked figures attacking cities throughout London. I know it wouldn't be long before they reached here. Hogsmeade was in shambles, so I stayed to help the few Ministry guards posted there. But there were too many Death Eaters for us to contain them all without reinforcements," Sirius said regretfully.
"Is that how they got onto the school grounds?"
"The unofficial report is that Lucius Malfoy destroyed the spells protecting the school. Obviously, he had to have help in doing it, but the protection magic is so old and so strong that they were only successful in creating pockets of unprotected space around Hogwarts. If a Death Eater apparated anywhere other than those designated spots they would be splinched and killed instantly."
"Where's Lucius Malfoy now?"
"No one knows," Sirius replied, shrugging. "They'll still sifting through the wreckage for bodies, but I doubt will find him. He probably ran away from here the second he found out his Dark Lord had been defeated."
Harry didn't ask about his son. If Lucius had found a way to escape, then it was equally as likely Draco had too.
"Remus says you defeated him all on your own."
Harry had never seen his godfather look prouder, but he couldn't take all the credit for it. "That's only partially true. Without the protection spell he would have killed me."
"But you were the one who faced him. You destroyed him."
Harry rubbed his forehead wearily. "Can we talk about something else, please? It's going to be bad enough when the Prophet gets wind of this and tries to paint me as a savior for bringing down the Dark Lord a second time."
His godfather nodded his head in understanding. "I should really get back outside anyways. There's still quite a few people missing," he said, his voice grave. "Get some rest, Harry. You deserve it." He gave Harry an affectionate pat on the shoulder before taking off down the hall.
Harry stood there, contemplating whether or not he should go back in, but in the end his desire to be alone won out over his desire to sit with the Weasley's and Hermione. He didn't want to feel like he had to talk about Voldemort. He didn't want to have to relive any of it so soon afterwards. Where he should have felt like celebrating, wizardkind had been saved yet again, he couldn't bring himself to feel like it was a victory. In fact, he couldn't bring himself to feel much of anything.
It was well after midnight when Ginny finally dragged her worn-out body to Gryffindor Tower. Her mother had insisted she stay with them at the inn in Hogsmeade (one of the few unscathed buildings left there), but she had gently declined. She did not need her mother fretting about her anymore then she already had. She didn't really feel like being in the company of other people either. She didn't want to talk about the horrible atrocities she had witnessed that day. She had never before dealt with injuries on this scale or had to cover up lifeless bodies. Up until ten hours ago she had never even seen a dead body before. What she really wanted to do was sleep and not wake up until summer vacation was over, but with the horrifying images swimming around in her head it was going to be difficult to manage even a full night of rest.
"Lemon pie," she mumbled to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
Before the Fat Lady would move aside, the portrait said, "I suppose with the correct password I have to let you in. But with just the two of you in there, I trust you will be on your best behaviour."
Ginny had no idea what she was talking about, but she was too tired to ask questions. It wasn't until she stepped into the common room that she understood what the Fat Lady was talking about.
He was sitting on the windowsill, eyes focused on what lay outside. Harry turned to look at her before going back to staring out the window.
Without saying a word, she joined him on the windowsill. The search teams were presumably on a break for the moment, for she could only see the additional torches that had brought in illuminating the grounds but no movement beneath them. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his shoulders slump. Acting on instinct, she moved closer to him until her back was resting against his chest. She felt him stiffen briefly at her touch, but then he relaxed.
"Mum was looking for you. She was worried when you left without saying anything," she said to him.
He gave no response that he had heard her, but she continued regardless. "McGonagall's keeping all the reporters off the grounds. She got an order from the Ministry declaring they can't come within a mile of the castle. So, naturally they're all camping out hoping to catch a glimpse of you."
Again, she received nothing but silence. She began to wonder if she was intruding on his space. After everything that had happened he deserved some peace. "If you want me to go, I will."
She felt his arms wrap themselves tightly around her waist in response. "Stay, please."
He was silent for a time, but that was fine with Ginny. Just knowing that he wanted her there was good enough for her.
"How do you feel?" He asked suddenly.
She wasn't sure that she understood what he meant. "What do you mean, Harry?"
"After the things you've seen today," he began slowly, "does it make you angry or upset? What do you feel?"
She considered his question carefully before answering. "I know that I hate Voldemort and his followers for wanting to destroy Hogwarts and everything I love about the wizarding world," she told him. "And I wish that for every person I saw die today I could have done something more to save them," she said, choking out that last part and feeling Harry pull her closer to him.
"I don't feel anything," he confessed to her. "After everything I've seen I still feel nothing. It's like I'm emotionally numb inside."
She turned her head so she could look up at him. "Everything you've spent the last seven years fighting for is finally over. It's natural that you need some time to process it all." As she said those words she started to wonder then if it was better to feel nothing then to feel anything. But to feel nothing would leave you empty and hollow. She had seen Harry too many times like that. She would gladly take the hurt and anguish over that any day.
They didn't speak another word after that. They just stayed close like that, with Harry's arms protectively around her, watching the darkness of night together.
Ginny awoke feeling like she had not slept at all, her body aching in every imaginable area. She didn't remember falling asleep on the couch or covering herself with a blanket. Of course, it must have been Harry. She rolled over and there he was sitting in an armchair, watching her.
"Did you sleep at all?" She asked him, bringing herself to a sitting position.
"I dozed on and off."
She should not have expected him to sleep through the night. There was likely too much going on in his head for him to clear it long enough for sleep.
She sat there trying to rub out the kink in her neck from sleeping in an awkward position.
"You tossed and turned a lot," he said.
She wasn't sure how she felt about having him watch her sleep, but it was a nice change to hear concern in his voice.
"Do you want to grab some breakfast before going to the hospital wing?"
"I'm not really hungry."
She caught herself before pressing the matter further. He didn't need her mothering him.
She excused herself to change out of her clothes that had patches of dry blood on them, and hoped to do something with her hair to make herself look half decent. Harry was still clothed in what he had been wearing yesterday when she came back down. He looked terrible to say the least. There were dark bags under his eyes and the bloodstains on his shirt showed her how close to death he had really come.
The walk to the hospital wing was accompanied by the same silence that had stuck with them for the majority of last night. This time it was because Ginny didn't know what to say to him. She wanted to ask about Voldemort, but had stopped herself just short of doing so every time. If Harry wanted to talk about it he would have mentioned it by now. If she weren't witnessing it with her own eyes, she would not think it possible for someone who had just saved the world to look so gloomy. But she still believed what she had said to him last night. So much had happened at once and he was just muddling through it all, but hadn't really processed any of it yet. If it were anyone other then Harry she would be worried, but he would deal when he was ready, and not a moment before that.
However, most of Harry's somber mood disappeared when they saw Ron sitting up in bed, awake, and talking to Hermione. Ginny reached his side first and hugged him tightly.
"How do you feel?" Harry asked him.
"Better then you look, mate," said Ron with a grin. "You look like shit."
Harry's own face lit up in a grin. "You don't look so great yourself."
"Hermione said I look dashingly handsome, so you won't mind if I go by her assessment?"
"Does mum know?" Ginny asked.
"Yeah, she, Charlie and the twins left just before you got here. They're getting something to eat and then they'll be back."
"I'm going to find Madame Pomfrey and see if she needs a hand," said Ginny. "But I'll come visit you later." She gave her brother another hug before leaving.
"McGonagall came around too with some news for Hermione," said Ron, grinning again.
Harry glanced at Hermione but her features revealed nothing. "What news?"
"She's been named class valedictorian," Ron said, proudly. "As if there was ever any doubt."
"Congratulations," Harry said to her. "Do you have to make a speech?"
"Yes," she started worriedly. "But I have no idea what I'm supposed to say."
Ron snorted. "Yeah, right. You've probably had one ready since first year."
Harry snickered too.
The conversation was kept light for the reminder of their visit with Ron, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion his friends were doing it on purpose. But he didn't mind. After all the drama they had been put through, he was forever grateful to have something else to talk about – and for once, no life-threatening worries to occupy his thoughts.
Harry was staring uninterestingly at the food on his plate, occasionally stabbing at it with his fork, and even less often actually putting some of it in his mouth. Sirius had cornered him into a meal in the main hallway, where a section of it had become a temporary dining location until the wounded from the Great Hall were to be moved over the course of the next few days.
His godfather had been called away shortly afterwards with reports that Death Eaters had been spotted lurking around Hogsmeade. Though Harry prayed it was a false alarm, at least now he didn't have to pretend to have an appetite or worry about Sirius watching him like a hawk.
"I think it's cold now," said a voice.
"Sorry?" Harry said distractedly, looking up.
"The food," said Ginny, watching him push it around his plate.
Harry shrugged and pushed the plate away from himself.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" She asked him.
A walk would mean he would have to go outside and see first hand the destruction that had been caused. So far, he had managed to avoid it, but he knew he could not hide inside forever. Besides, there might be devastation outside, but it could all be repaired – maybe even in time for a September opening. With a nod of his head, he stood up and walked with Ginny towards the main doorway.
For a moment he feared that she had noticed his barest fraction of a second hesitation when he had gone to open the newly constructed main door, but then it struck him that he didn't care if she had. He wasn't going to hide from her how badly this was affecting him.
At first, he could see nothing different, the area they were walking through looked seemingly untouched, with the exception of the occasional scorch marks lining the walls. The further he and Ginny walked the greater the destruction was. Entire sections of the castle had collapsed or caved in. Debris littered the ground, and there parts of the rubble was still smoking in spots. Hogwarts was unrecognizable from where he stood. Even if the reconstruction teams managed to put Hogwarts back to the way it was, it would be forever etched in his brain the way it looked now. A broken, scarred mess. Merlin knows how many bodies were still under that wreckage…
He wasn't aware that his knees had collapsed beneath him until he was leaning forward, hands on his knees, and threw up. The sight before him was too much. He sank back to his knees, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and felt Ginny come to his side, demanding to know what was wrong. He couldn't tell her because he was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering.
All of this destruction – this death – he was responsible for. Voldemort came here for him. Voldemort attacked his friends and their families because of their connection to him. It was just one, giant never-ending circle. He should have been stronger and cut off his ties with everyone. Then maybe at least some of those bodies draped in a white sheet that he had seen the wreckage team bring in wouldn't have happened.
"Harry, I'm going to get Madame Pomfrey," Ginny said, her voice taking on a high-pitched tone.
"No," he protested through gritted teeth. "I just need to get back to the common room."
"Harry, don't be an idiot – "
Her protests were lost on him. He was already struggling to his feet and leaning on her for support. She had never realized how heavy he was, and it was a wonder she was able to half-carry, half-drag him to the common room on her own. Once there he collapsed on the nearest couch, shaking worse then before. She grabbed a blanket to cover him up and that was when she noticed the fresh crimson colour seeping through his shirt. She ran upstairs to her room, coming back down a moment later with her hands full of the supplies the Hogwarts matron had allowed her to keep as part of her training.
"Hold still," she commanded, lifting up the bottom of his shirt to try and seal the wound.
"Don't," he protested, and tried moving away.
"Harry, either you let me help you or I'm leaving right now and getting Madame Pomfrey," she said in an authoritative tone.
Harry desisted and she was able to redress the wound. "Here, drink this. It will help with the pain."
He looked ready to argue but because of her earlier threat he drank the pink liquid without complaint, though it was with some difficulty because his hands were shaking so badly.
"You need to rest. You're suffering from post-traumatic stress."
"It's my fault," he said through chattering teeth. "I caused all of this."
"Harry, you didn't," she said, her voice taking on a much more soothing tone now. "You're only thinking that because you're exhausted. You've pushed your body well beyond its limits."
"No, that's not it. I cause death. I – " He found his tongue catch in his throat, and the words he wanted to say seemed to elude him as he was overcome with an intense wave of drowsiness he hadn't been feeling moments before. He looked accusingly at Ginny. "What did you give me?"
She looked extremely apologetic. "I'm sorry, Harry, but it's for your own good."
She had slipped him a sleeping draught! He tried to stand up but his legs felt like jelly and refused to follow his command. The only order his mind seemed capable of following was the overwhelming desire to sleep…