Surreality
By Perse
Chapter 5
oOo
Harry followed Sirius down the hallway and into the ward, where the Healer met them and asked them to wait a moment. As they stood at the end of a long run of curtained-off beds, Harry fidgeted nervously. He raised a hand to his mouth, chewing on a long and ragged thumbnail—a habit he had broken when he was eight.
Sirius turned to him. With a soft, "Harry," he gently grasped his hand and pulled it down, holding it a bit longer than necessary. "It's all right. He's going to be fine."
"He's right," a feminine voice said from behind Sirius. His godfather moved behind him, giving him a little push towards his mother.
"Your father's going to be fine," she said, pulling him into an embrace.
He stood stiffly in her arms, unable to relax, and she released him fairly quickly. "I promise, Harry. Everything will be fine." She cupped his face gently for a moment. Then, "I need to speak with the Healer. You go on down and see him, okay?"
Harry nodded as if in a daze, barely catching the concerned look she and Sirius exchanged over his head. Then Sirius squeezed Harry's shoulders once before moving to his side and steering him down the ward.
They made their way to the opposite end of the hallway, all the way to the next-to-last curtain. There, Sirius pulled the hanging curtains open a bit so they could see the bed.
James Potter lay propped up on a couple of pillows. The most prominent bruises stood out on his face and neck, though it was almost certain there were others out of sight. His left arm was in a sling. There were lines of pain around his eyes.
Despite all of this, his face lit up when he saw them.
Harry swallowed hard, trying to take it all in. While he didn't know exactly what had happened, he knew it had happened in the course of his Dad's work for the Ministry. He would probably hear it in the form of gossip at school, but part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know. While everyone was playing it down for his benefit, he got the impression that it had been a rather serious incident.
Sirius tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, Jamie. You really gotta learn to watch where you're going, mate."
James attempted an eye roll, but it ended in a grimace. Harry stood rooted in the opening, ignoring the slight pressure Sirius was applying on his back to prod him forward.
But James held out his good arm, beckoning him. With a slight whimper that he would deny later, he rushed into his father's embrace.
He was careful, excruciatingly gentle, afraid of causing more damage to injuries he couldn't see. But James didn't seem to share that concern, squeezing him tightly and close.
Finally Harry melted into the embrace, clinging as tightly as he was being held. "You promised you weren't going anywhere," he said as loudly as he could, which was barely audible.
"And I'm not," James whispered fiercely. "I love you, son. I will always be with you."
oOo
This time, Harry woke on his own. He noted absently that it was still dark, though his thoughts for the most part remained with the dream.
'Always' was awfully short, Dad, he thought as he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, trying to push back the emotional tidal wave.
He lay perfectly still, reaching for the skills Snape had taught him to clear his mind. Eventually the death grip he had on the corner of his pillowcase relaxed. He was just about to drift back to sleep when he was rudely brought back to reality by someone bouncing onto his bed.
"Harry? Get up. We're going to get practice in before breakfast!"
With a scowl, Harry twisted to peer up at Ron. "Practice?" he croaked dumbly.
"Quidditch. You know…brooms, quaffle, a snitch? Come on, get up!"
Harry glared. Ron seemed entirely too chipper for this early in the morning. And this time he didn't leave Harry the opportunity to slip back into dreamland. He physically hauled him into a sitting position, then sat down behind him so he couldn't lie back down.
"Who died and made you Oliver Wood?" Harry grumbled, leaning back and forcing Ron to support all of his weight as a form of protest.
Ron took it in stride, ignoring the comment and prodding a finger into his ribs until he sat up. Harry did, then when the poking stopped he leaned back again. This game went on for a few minutes until Harry was actually smiling and almost completely awake. Finally he said, "I may not even be on the team, you know. McGonagall hasn't ruled on that yet."
"Oh, you know she'll let you. She has to; you're the best we've got!"
Harry grunted noncommittally, but shifted to face his friend. He knew perfectly well that this was an attempt to follow Snape's instructions and keep him occupied. Somehow, he didn't mind as much as he'd thought he would.
"Come on. It'll be fun. How long has it been since you flew?"
"A very long while," Harry confessed ruefully. And really, it would feel nice to be in the air again. He cut his eyes at Ron, who was looking at him with his best cajoling look. Finally, with an exaggerated sigh, Harry gave in. "All right. Let's go."
And so, Wednesday morning found Harry striding out onto the Quidditch field with Ron at his side and his broom in his hand. They didn't have an actual practice scheduled, but no one else was up this early to fight them for the field.
Ron was in quite the take-charge mode. He'd somehow managed to get everyone else out of bed, as well. Kirke and Sloper looked half-asleep, and Harry rather feared they might be more of a threat to the other players than the Bludgers. Katie Bell was mumbling something about Ron and a Wood-clone. Ginny was actually the most attentive, possibly because Harry's reinstatement as Seeker would leave her without a spot. Ron had told her to play Chaser for this practice. That only left them short one Chaser.
Hermione had tagged along, and Ron was attempting to convince her to give it a go. She just snorted in disbelief and indicated the books she had brought along to occupy her time.
As they walked onto the field, Hermione kept casting odd glances Harry's way. After a while, Harry figured out that she must be watching his reaction to Ron's behavior. She probably thought that he would expect the Captain position, and thus he should be in charge.
Honestly, he hadn't thought about it much. At the beginning of last year, he might have had hopes for it after Angelina's graduation. But now…it didn't seem to matter so much. And he hadn't even been on the team for most of last year; surely that would take him out of the running, no matter how important he might have been in the past.
Ron had gained a lot of confidence after that last game, and it was really evident now. So much so that Harry was really beginning to consider that he should be Captain. Or perhaps it would go to Katie as the senior member of the team. Harry didn't really care one way or another…in fact, he really didn't want it.
He gave Hermione a shrug and a smile. She gave him a tentative smile in return. Then she went to climb into the stands with her books clutched in her arms as the rest of them mounted their brooms and got into position.
Ron released the balls. Harry watched from his higher position as the five of them coordinated a game strategy below.
Ginny turned out to be rather good in the Chaser position. She and Katie worked well together. And Ron definitely had the leader-thing down. Harry wondered briefly if it had something to do with the absence of any older Weasleys at Hogwarts this year. Whatever it was, Harry found this side of his friend intriguing.
This felt almost normal. He breathed in the fresh air and enjoyed the feel of the broom as the only thing holding him up. He truly loved flying, like nothing else he had found in his life.
Unfortunately, this lacked the tension and excitement of a real game, or even a real practice. He hadn't sighted the snitch once, and his mind was drifting. He'd never really let himself think about it before, but now he dwelled on the idea of his father sitting in those stands on a game day.
Would James Potter be proud of his Seeker son? Harry liked to think so. He let a small smile grace his lips as he shifted his weight on the broom until he was almost lying down. He relaxed, keeping a lazy eye out for the snitch but tuning out the activity of his teammates. His attention kept drifting back to the stands. If he closed his eyes he could imagine his father standing there, his mother on one side and Sirius and Remus on the other, cheering him on…
"Harry!" he abruptly heard Hermione scream.
It jolted him awake, and there was a moment in which he realized he'd fallen asleep. But it was too late.
He had a view of the ground rushing up to meet him. Then he saw nothing.
oOo
to be continued