Disclaimer: We are the Harry Potter fic called "Not Myself". Resistance as you know it is over. We will add your reviews and flames to the bucket in the corner.  You will be sucked in. Resistance is futile.

Disclaimer for Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.  Nor the Borg.  Other people own them.

Not Myself by Saerry Snape

Chapter 144 – Tears for Waking

Harry woke up to see the hospital wing's ceiling instead of his own familiar green canopy and with the worst headache he ever had in his life.

Not to mention the fact that his right side was a lot warmer than his left.

He looked down as smiled as he saw Niamh curled up beside him.  Her dark head was pillowed on his chest while her left arm had snaked up to grab a handful of his shirt near the shoulder.  Harry could see the Gauntlet where it lay above the blanket on her waist and knew immediately that, through that contact, that the runes on her right arm had appeared again.

Harry?

Jar? wondered Harry, starting to lift his head but decided against that when his headache worsened with the movement.  How are you doing?

How am I doing?  HOW AM I DOING!  You go off and attempt a rescue that could have EASILY failed and you ask me HOW I'M DOING?

Please stop yelling at me.  I have a headache that could wake the dead.

Sorry , said the raven, sounding ashamed.  I was just worried.  Fawkes told me where you had gone and when I tried to sense you I couldn't.  It scared me.

I'm sorry, said Harry.  I didn't mean to worry you.

I know.  This is what I get for bonding with a kid with a hero complex.

I resent that remark.

Harry grinned mentally and got one in return from Jardin.  He then glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Mika and Mischa curtained off beds.

How are they? He asked.

Jardin shuffled nervously on his perch and replied, Mischa is…recovering.  But it is feared that she may never have the full use of her left arm again.

Glad its not her right.

As are her parents.  But Mika…he is a far different tale.

What do you mean? Asked Harry.

He…the werewolf got him pretty badly.  One of its claws scored him a good one across the right eye.  I doubt he even noticed it.   Jardin paused and shuffled nervously.  He'll never be able to use the eye again.  It's ruined beyond help.

And?

He's a werewolf.

Harry's heart sank in his chest.  Poor Ginny…

The Wolfsbane didn't work?

Unfortunately, no.  His mother was still crying when they pulled her away from his bedside.   Jardin shuffled again then flapped his way over to the table beside the head of the bed.  Then he hopped onto the bed so he could stare his bond in the eyes.  Are you alright?

Harry smiled weakly and nodded as well as he could without instigating his headache.

I'm fine, Jar.  Has anyone told Ginny about…

I don't think anyone has thought of it.  Should I…?

Do it, said Harry.  She should know.  She…I think she should be here when he wakes up.  Just in case…

Just in case he thinks she won't want him now that he's a werewolf?

Harry smiled at the raven.

You read my mind.

I try not to nowadays.  I shall go and tell the Vixen.  When I finish, I will come back.

What about your lovely Mordiana?

Hey, she's the granddaughter of a pair of Altair Crows I used to know.  She's an intelligent bird.

Harry just smiled and watched Jardin as he launched himself into the air and flew through the wall.  Shifting slightly, he pulled Niamh closer and turned his head so his chin rested against his forehead before he closed his eyes again.

He was awoken a few moments later by Ginny's entrance into the hospital wing.  She spotted him and wandered over, Jardin perched on her shoulder.

"Harry," she sniffed.

Harry pulled his free arm out from underneath the blanket and extending it towards her.  Ginny threw herself into the half embrace and began to sob quietly.  The dark-haired teen just hugged her and let her get it out of her system.

As she leaned back, wiping her now red eyes with the sleeve of her shirt (which looked suspiciously like one of Mika's), Niamh shifted and one blue eye blinked open to peer at the sound that had interrupted her sleep.

"Gin?"

"Hi, Ni," mumbled the red-head, sniffling.

"What's wrong?" asked Niamh, causing Ginny to break out in fresh sobs.  Harry pulled the younger girl back into his one-armed embrace and sent a thought strongly towards Niamh.  She picked it up easily enough – since she had just awoke and her mental wards were less in strength then usual – and gasped.

Oh, no, not Mik, she whispered.  Poor Gin.  And his mum…

Harry just nodded and lay quietly as Niamh propped herself up on one elbow and reached across him to stroke Ginny's hair, sending feelings of reassurance into the distraught girl.  Through the actions of the empath and the comforting embrace of Harry, Ginny recovered enough composure to go and face Mika.  Thus leaving Niamh and Harry in each others company again.

"Sorry if I'm…"  Niamh trailed off and searched for a word as she colored suddenly.  Harry grinned at her discomfort and regretted it when his headache pounded furiously.

"I's alright, Ni," he said.

"Okay."

After a moment she curled back up against his side, her head pillowed on his chest.  They lay there listening to Ginny talk quietly to Mika before they spoke again.

Niamh began, "It…its been a while since I slept with anybody."

Harry arched an eyebrow and said, "Why, Miss O'Feir, aren't ye quite too young ter be sleeping wi' other people."

"That's not the sleeping I was talking about and you know it!"

"I know, I know," said Harry.  "But ye left yerself open ter that one."

"I suppose I did.  But I'm being serious.  The last person I…"

"Cedric," said Harry softly, feeling Niamh stiffen.

"Yes," she whispered hoarsely.

"Loo', Ni, I…"

"I still love him," she said.  Then she turned her face up towards his and reached up to cup his cheek in her hand.  "He'll always be the first boy I gave my heart to.  But you'll always be the one who kept my heart forever."

Harry's cheeks flushed and he began, "Niamh…"  It was the first time he'd said her full name in a very long time.

"I want to show you something," whispered Niamh.  She reached for the second vision she'd ever seen, the one that she had seen at the beginning of this very year, and sent it careening from her mind into Harry's.  His eyes went slightly opaque as it played before his eyes and then returned to normal when the vision faded and returned to Niamh's mind.

Emerald eyes stared down into blue in disbelief and confusion.

"Ye…me…we…bloody hell."

"I know," said Niamh softly, her hand sliding down to clench in his shirt.  "I couldn't believe it when I first saw it."

"So…we?"

"Yeah."

Harry lifted his left hand and rubbed his forehead, eyes closed.  His headache flared slightly but he ignored.  He had just seen his own son,  his and Niamh's son.

He wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't showed him that other vision of hers.  After he'd viewed her own grave, he was ready to believe that she had the Sight.  Because he had known that she would have died had she continued to wear the Gauntlet.

"Un-bloody-believable…" breathed Harry.

Niamh frowned and looked up at him.

"This…this doesn't change what you said, does it?"

Harry's expression changed from disbelief to shock and he hugged her close, leaning his head against hers.

"Never," he hissed fiercely.  "I love ye.  An' nothing will ever change tha."

"I'm glad."

Harry just smiled and continued to hug her, his heart aching as he heard Ginny begin to cry once more.

Author's Notes

Atra: That's character abuse!

Saerry: It is not!  And Mik's not dead!

Atra: He's a werewolf.

Saerry: Point being?

Atra: HE'S A WEREWOLF!!

Saerwy: *snarl*  What do you have against werewolves, you pint-sized meal-on-wheels?

Atra: *pales, stares at Saerwy for a moment, then flees*

Saerwy: *gives chase*  COME BACK HERE, YOU LITTLE SOD!

Mel: Ce la vie!

Saerry: Oi.  I think I just contracted Harry's headache…