Disclaimer: I only own Renata, and these days she has a life of her own anyway.
Author's Note: It's been two years and five months. I close to gave up on this story. But, I made a decision. This will be done before the real seventh book comes out. So, ta-da! A chapter!
CHAPTER 38: The Report
Cornelius Fudge left shortly after congratulating Harry on his victory and his recovery. No one was really sure just why he had bothered to show up anyway—he wasn't the current Minister and harbored no genuine liking for Harry. Snape had to get back to the school promptly and left before he could say a word to Harry (or before Harry say another word to him). Odd as it seemed, with McGonagall present at the hospital wing, Snape was the highest ranking individual more or less at Hogwarts. Harry was left with Madam Pomfrey, Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Remus Lupin, McGonagall, Neville's grandmother, Ginny, Neville, Ron, Hermione, and Renata for company.
After nearly a half-hour of "we were so worried about you" and "it's so good to have you back" from just about everyone, Harry requested some time alone with the ones who had been there with him at Hogsmeade three weeks before. He needed to know exactly what had had happened. Ginny didn't like being the only student present who was left out, but Harry explained as gently as he could that he really needed to discuss the last night and the Hogsmeade day for his own piece of mind.
She nodded in understanding and left. She hadn't been there. It wasn't her place. As much as she wished it were, it wasn't her place now either.
"What exactly happened?" he asked quietly.
"Where do we start?" Renata asked weakly.
"Start with the beginning," Harry said. "And don't leave anything out."
"Well—"
"Wait, just how long exactly have I been out of it?"
"You were unconscious for two weeks, and you woke up, five weeks ago," Renata said, counting off the days on here fingers.
"If I may continue? Well, we knew leaving you alone was a bad idea. Leaving you by yourself just isn't safe—"
"Not to mention, there was still the promise to Sirius of course," added Renata.
Hermione shot her a look "Can I finish?"
"Sorry."
"So we tracked you down more or less simply and convinced you to let us follow you. After that, you had us hide under the invisibility cloak—"
"I know all that. Start with when we approached the Death Eaters," Harry said impatiently.
"You were the one who said not to leave anything out," pointed out Hermione.
Neville picked up the thread of the story. "Recognizing that cone of silence that got put up, Hermione had the idea for all of us to create that force field around you two. Thought it might confuse somebody on the other side for at least a little bit of a stall. We held it up as long as we could. But it was a powerful spell. It took a lot of energy out of us, and eventually we couldn't hold it up anymore. The Death Eaters started realizing something was wrong right about then and tried to fight back against it."
"While Neville, Hermione, and Renata held up the force field for a little while longer, I muted Voldemort and stuck his feet to the floor," Ron said.
"Then I summoned his wand," said Renata.
"Neville took that first hit for you after our purple wall fell," Ron said quietly. "Stitched his mouth up so he couldn't talk at all. When we tried to start to take the thread out afterward, his lips started bleeding horribly."
Harry looked at Neville.
"The Healers stopped the bleeding when they got there. When we got here, they managed to get rid of the holes and the scars on my lips," Neville muttered. "Hermione took a worse hit than me. The second spell they tried to shoot at you was some sort of parasite. A worm that crawled under her skin and was heading for her heart."
Harry's eyes shot toward her in alarm. He opened his mouth to say something.
"I'm alright now though, Harry," said Hermione, quickly.
"I got hit by one of your stunning spells, Harry," Renata said. "Then a Death Eater tripped over me. He fell on me while I was unconscious and my leg broke. He was a heavy guy too. I couldn't get up. All I could do was become visible again when I regained consciousness and wait to be found."
"Oh no," Harry said. "I can't believe I did that. Are you all right? I should have watched where I was aiming, I should have—"
"You shouldn't have anything, Harry. You had your hands more than full."
"What about you, Ron? What happened to you?" he asked fearfully.
"I helped you shoot stunning spells and some impediment spells too. We all did what we could, for as long as we could. I got nabbed by a stray hex. I don't know whose it was. Just a Stunner."
"What happened after I blacked out?" asked Harry. "All I remember is this bumblebee. It was buzzing around me and then it got his by the killing curse and…" He stopped dead. "Where's Dumbledore? Is Dumbledore okay?"
They looked at each other, no one wanting to speak.
Harry's voice grew hoarse. "He didn't make it, did he? He was the fifth one. The one who didn't survive."
"He said being dead isn't all that bad," Ron offered.
Harry glared at him, ready to punch his best friend. "That's not funny, Ron!"
"Harry, Dumbledore's a ghost. He said he's not sticking around forever like Nick and Myrtle and the others. Just long enough, but he won't tell us what that means," explained Hermione.
"We think it means he wants to talk to you," Ron explained.
"He died because of me. I can't talk to him. What would I say?"
"You could always go with 'thank you'," offered Neville kindly.
The adults didn't give them much more time to talk. What everyone—except Harry—was in agreement of was that he need rest and relaxation.
He tried not to roll his eyes, but he whispered to Ron. "Rest? What do they think I've been doing for almost three weeks now?"
Ron shrugged. "Beats me. But hey, you could always study for your NEWTs."
Harry glared at him and opened his mouth.
"Kidding. They've been canceled. And no one would expect you to take them now anyway."
Even Renata was forced to Floo back to Hogwarts and get some rest at last. They were to go to Hagrid's old home if they chose to avoid the student population. Only Madam Pomfrey, Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Remus, and McGonagall stayed. They all still looked somewhat anxious, as though they expected him to forget them again at any moment.
Harry waited. What did he want to ask? Where was he going to go? No one said anything.
Finally, Sirius asked, "How do you feel, Harry?"
What kind of question was that? "I don't know. Glad to be back…I guess. But not particularly happy, even though I know things mostly worked out."
"So I guess you're ready to go out and round up the rest of the Death Eaters right? Moody's waiting out in the hall with Tonks and Kingsley."
Had anyone other than Sirius addressed him in that tone of voice, Harry would have been sure they were entirely serious. Instead Harry just cocked an eyebrow and said, "Sure, and while I'm at it, you call the Muggle Prime Minister and let him know that I'll be stopping by shortly to see what I can do about getting global cooperation to end world hunger."
"Hey, when you're on a roll…" Sirius said.
McGonagall looked severely at Sirius as though he was fourteen again and she had just caught him about to put spiders in Snape's hair.
"You're not feeling lightheaded or anything, are you?" asked Molly, ignoring both McGonagall and Sirius.
"No, that was only earlier this week, when I first woke up. I'm all right. Really. When can I get out of here? Wherever I am."
"You're in St. Mungo's. A private room in the permanent residence ward," Madam Pomfrey informed him.
"Oh." Not an answer he was completely surprised to hear, but a little startled all the same. Permanent residence? They really hadn't had any hope of his recovery. "You still didn't answer my first question."
"Physically you are fine, but we were thinking, maybe you don't want to go back to Hogwarts for what's left of the year. Too many prying peers and pressures."
"There's not much of the year left, right?" Harry asked cautiously. He desperately wanted to get away from St. Mungo's. It very hospital-y and while it may have been a good environment health wise—no distractions or busybody reporters—it wasn't comfortable. It felt entirely to sterile and secluded. He just wanted to be home—Hogwarts.
"It's May 17th."
"You've a little more than a month left"
"The Last Battle was on the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year, at the end of April. Then, you remained unconscious for two weeks, and you awoke five days ago."
"I want to go back to school," he decided.
"Go back?"
"Why?"
Harry looked calmly at Professor McGonagall and the other adults. "I want to leave school with the rest of my class—at the end of term." He thought At least let me do something normal for once.
"NEWTs have been canceled. You aren't missing them by continuing to stay here or by going home."
"I want to go back. Hogwarts is home. How soon can I go?" he insisted.
The adults all looked at Poppy. "A week."
He shook his head. What was he supposed to do here for a week? It was quite simply a stupid idea. "A week? You said I was physically fine."
"Your wounds have healed, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't keep you for observation for another week to make sure you really are all right," she countered.
A brief silence settled over the room.
"Who's watching Hogwarts?" Harry directed the question at the Hogwarts nurse.
"I'm not sure I understand your question…"
"The way I understand it, you've been taking care of me here at St. Mungo's for the last three weeks almost."
She interrupted, "It's often best that in a complicated case—if at all possible—the Healer who has had the most experience with the patient continue work with him or her. I have seen you through many strange injuries and a fair amount of illness. No one was quite sure what happened to you on that field. I'm here because I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Yes, but my question is, while you've been here, who has been taking care of the students at Hogwarts?"
"They've had several Healers in, temporarily. They've changed them out every two days or so."
"Because they have families and they need to take care of them. Am I right? Your children are all the students at Hogwarts and that's where you're supposed to be: taking care of them."
Harry had made a good point.
Still, the adults hesitated against him. Lupin and Sirius were the only ones who seemed like they might just vie in his favor.
"What if…" An idea struck him. "What if I spent another night here, and then stayed in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts for another two days."
Madam Pomfrey shook her head and crossed her arms. "Three days is not a compatible deal against a week's bed-rest in a hospital."
Inspiration hit. "What about two days here, and three days in the hospital wing at Hogwarts?"
"Why are you so determined to go back? The media will be hounding you like mad," Molly said.
"What if—after the hospital wing—Ron and Hermione and Renata and Neville and I used Hagrid's house instead of going up to Gryffindor Tower? At least for a while?"
"What good would that serve?"
"To keep us out of everyone's faces," he said simply.
The adults held a brief powwow. They were willing to approve the first part, but they held their reservations on the second part. Once that was settled, McGonagall said that her place was among her students and, wishing Harry all the best, went back to Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey indicated that now that Harry was recovering, she had paperwork to tend to in the other room and it was time for his remaining guests to leave.
Mrs. Weasley said her goodbyes to Harry and left him alone to say goodbye to Sirius and Remus. Rather than getting ready to leave (after all, with Molly and Poppy both out of the room there was no one left to pester them) Sirius and Remus settled down into chairs next to Harry's bed.
Harry sat up comfortably, reclined against his pillows. "What's the atmosphere like outside this room these days?"
"Mostly happy. The final battle only had three deaths. People on our side had expected some sort of large scale, army against army battle."
"Three?" Harry asked. There was Voldemort gone, and Dumbledore, and then he himself had survived. His friends had survived and he was sure they hadn't thrown any killing curses. So… "Does everybody out there think I'm dead?"
Sirius blinked.
"No, Harry. They know you're alive, though beyond knowing that, they know nothing about where you are, we hope. If they know, then I don't doubt that reporters will be waiting outside when you leave St. Mungo's."
Harry frowned at Remus. "That still doesn't answer my question. Who's the third?"
Remus and Sirius looked uneasily at each other.
"Well?"
"It's Peter. Peter Pettigrew," Sirius said at last.
