Title: Memories of the Future
Chapter Title: Chapter 16: Diagnosis
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: HBP Spoiler
Summary: Harry slips away from the Burrow for a meeting at Auror Headquarters where he learns of the continuing loyalty of his former colleagues and something that frightens him more than anything ever has.
Harry couldn't decide if it was nostalgia or trepidation that was distracting him as the lift doors opened before him. The familiar voice ("Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office…") seemed strangely pleasant considering he had once grown to despise hearing it every day. Harry chuckled as he gazed through the enchanted windows along the hallway which seemed to be mocking the cloudless summer heat outside by displaying a stunning winter landscape, complete with horse drawn sleighs and smoke puffing from every chimney.
Harry paused outside the massive double doors at the end of the corridor with a great sense of apprehension. Staring up at their heavy oaken façade he thought it might not be the worst idea in the world to magically remove them from their hinges and levitate them along in front of him so nobody would see him walking through his former department. Better judgment told him there was a strong chance such actions would be noticed and blow his cover. After all, he'd have been a sorry excuse for Head of the Department of Aurors if his former charges couldn't detect such a ruse right under their noses, however ingenious it might have been. With a final sigh of preparation he pressed one door open just far enough to slip inside.
The hustle and bustle was just as he remembered it, if not a bit subdued. Harry had chosen this particular day to visit because the Department had, just the previous week, completed a three-month-long sting operation to shut down a front for illegal dragon fighting. Many of those involved were either at St. Mungo's with minor injuries or else on a long overdue vacation. Harry figured he'd encounter a much smaller group of people today. He stood for a moment and absorbed the chaos of conversation and laughter, paper aeroplane messages flittering this way and that, and the occasional head popping up above a cubicle to shout a comment into a nearby one or to the room at large. Somehow if there were a large group of Aurors missing today Harry wouldn't have noticed. Every square inch was packed as full as ever.
Bracing himself, Harry began to walk briskly but unobtrusively along the rows, making his way toward the opposite corner and hoping to avoid catching anyone's attention, though he knew it was quite an optimistic goal. To his surprise he never heard shouts of his name or the ensuing uproar that surely would have ensued once someone had spotted him. At first he thought he actually might have miraculously avoided detection. Curiosity eventually got the better of him and he lifted his gaze from the floor in front of him to the faces of his former colleagues. What he saw gave him pause enough to slow his pace. Most people along his immediate path had, in fact, noticed his presence, but instead of the flood of surprised gasps and excited shrieks he had been expecting, most people simply smiled as he passed. Some nodded their heads respectfully or winked with a friendly wave, but not one person actually spoke to him. Just as quickly as he had approached them, he passed them by in turn and they each returned to their work as if he still walked through every day and this were just another day at Auror Headquarters.
"Harry, how are you? Congratulations on the newest member of the family! It's so good to see you," said a witch with curly grey hair and a rosy complexion. Her face was a mixture of warmth and no-nonsense strictness. There was no doubt she could be your best friend from the moment you met her right up to the moment you crossed her. As she spoke she rose from her chair slapping automatically at her square reading glasses, which somehow wound up neatly folded, hanging lightly from a jeweled string around her neck.
Harry was still looking about in bewilderment over the unusual silence that was still rippling behind him. "I'm wonderful Abigail, and thank you," Harry responded, pecking her on the cheek. "Is everyone alright?"
"Perfectly fine, why do you ask?" Abigail said calmly. It wasn't really a question. "I'll need a picture of the baby," she continued, indicating the wall beside her desk, which was decorated tastefully with pictures of family and friends.
"Consider it done."
"Excellent," she responded using unusually strong diction to show her enthusiasm. "Can I get you anything before you go in?"
"No, thank you. I had an early tea today."
"Very well. I'm sure you and Hermione have plenty to discuss so I'll show you right in. She's expecting you."
"I suppose she is," Harry said, casting one final glance over his shoulder to the sea of cubicles behind him.
"Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Potter to see you," Abigail said formally, holding the door to Harry's old office open for him.
"Thank you Abby. Harry, it's so wonderful to see you," Hermione exclaimed as they embraced. "Did Abby offer you—?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Splendid," Hermione said as they each took a seat by the fireplace. Hermione's redecoration of the office was subtle but comfortable. Harry thought it still seemed a bit masculine, even for Hermione's understated feminine taste. "I'm sorry I haven't been around; you staying at the Burrow all this time, just a stone's throw away and I've still hardly seen you. I hope Ginny's not upset. She's alright there with just Molly isn't she?"
"It's quite alright Hermione," Harry responded with a tired smile. "Ginny will be fine. Actually, it's not just the two of them. Ron stopped by and offered to stay while I'm gone. Ginny whishes she could see you, but she'll survive. We both know first hand how busy this job gets. Speaking of which, congratulations on last week. That must feel good."
"Oh," Hermione sighed, letting her head fall against the back of her chair, "you have no idea. Well, actually you do but… you have no idea."
Harry laughed. "I hope you don't mind my saying, I don't miss it."
"Not at all. I don't blame you," Hermione said emphatically, rubbing her temples and rolling her neck from side to side. "Still, I'm sure you're glad to see everybody again."
"Speaking of that," Harry said, suddenly remembering his strange entrance just moments ago, "is everyone okay? I expected all hell to break loose when I walked in. Nobody even said a word. Did you tell them I was coming?"
"Of course I did. I simply made the suggestion that they give you a little space. I guess they took my speech a little too seriously."
"Speech?" Harry gasped. "You did what?"
"Don't be so dramatic Harry. It wasn't anything like that. I just wanted to tell them as many details as I knew so you wouldn't have to answer so many questions. I must have come on a bit strong. I hope you don't mind."
"No… not really," Harry murmured, fiddling with a loose thread on the lapel of his robes." I guess I was just, surprised, is all. I'm not really used to entering a room without an explosion of shouts."
"Even as much as you hate it, you've grown accustomed to it," Hermione said wisely.
"I suppose," Harry admitted with a shrug. He winced slightly as his shoulder tensed. "You said this was about the Tournament," he said, rocking his arm around to shake out the tightness.
"Yes. Are you alright Harry?" Hermione asked, eyeing his shoulder with concern.
"What… this?" Harry said, dismissing the subject with a wave of his hand. "Probably just sore from holding the baby. I'll get used to it. You were saying?"
"Yes," Hermione continued, reaching for a roll of parchment on the corner of her desk. "Most of the preparations for the Triwizard Tournament are set. The final elements will be put in place just before each task, sometimes only the night before. We want to leave as little chance of giving things away as possible. You understand."
"Yes." Harry thought back to how easy it was for the champions to discover that Dragons were the objects of the first task when he was Champion 10 years ago. Remembering that Cedric never would have known if he, Harry, hadn't told him, Harry had to admit that sort of thing wasn't as likely this time and that complete secrecy was the fairest way to go.
"Good," said Hermione, scribbling a note on her parchment.
"Hermione, shouldn't this be done by the Department of Games and Sports?" Harry asked.
"It is. Their role is more or less unchanged from before, but as you know we've assigned a group of Aurors to supervise security concerns and I've asked for everything to go through me to be sure nothing is missed and nothing is leaked. I can set a meeting up for you with Oliver Wood if you would like. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you."
"That might be a good idea."
"I'll ask Abby to set it up for you." Hermione straightened her parchment and continued looking down the list. "As you know, the Hogwarts Express will take you and your students to Durmstrang Castle on 30 October. The journey is somewhat long and, even though Karkaroff is out of the picture and secrecy isn't as much an issue, they still guard their castle as carefully as we conceal Hogwarts. You'll depart on the 28th to give you enough time for the journey."
"Really? I hadn't expected that. I suppose I'll have to adjust my fall schedule slightly, but it shouldn't be a problem."
Hermione made another mark on her parchment and continued to the next line. "The coaches you use will be fully equipped for everything you need: bunks for the students, private quarters for you and Ginny and the baby, a common room which will also function as your classroom. We don't have to worry about the students getting along do we?"
"There's some healthy competitiveness but it's nothing really," Harry said dismissively. "They've been their own small group for several months now so we don't have to worry about house rivalries if that's what you mean. It might be tense for the first day or so, but once the champion is chosen I'm sure they'll care much more about supporting our champion than whatever differences they have with each other."
"And there are ten of them as I recall so—"
"Actually only seven," Harry interrupted. "Two threw in the towel before summer break and the third one had a death in the family and withdrew."
"Really? Well that is good news," Hermione said before catching herself. "I mean, it's unfortunate that…" she stammered, blushing slightly.
"It's alright Hermione. I knew what you meant. Fewer students should make some things easier I would think."
"Yes…" Hermione said with a frown.
"Really Hermione, don't worry about it. Devon's grandmother was sick. They knew it was coming. How would it help?" Harry asked, hoping to steer her back on track.
"How would what help?" Hermione asked distractedly.
"To have fewer students. I'm sure there are some things…"
"Oh yes. First of all, we can eliminate an entire coach from the train. We won't need as many desks. There are a number of things actually," she said, scribbling quickly on her parchment. "You know Harry, after this year I think the Ministry might want Hogwarts to adopt your pre-Tournament course as a permanent feature. Having such a small delegation is a real cost saver."
"As long as it's done impartially," Harry noted. "I'd hate to think what a man like Karkaroff might have done to a student whose name wasn't 'Victor Krum.'"
"It probably would have been just the two of them that year," Hermione said and they both laughed.
Harry and Hermione talked for over an hour about the tournament. After the business end of the conversation was over they took this long overdue opportunity to catch up on everything that had been going on since they had last spoken. Hermione had missed Bill and Fleur altogether and laughed appreciatively as Harry retold the story of their visit. They discussed names for the baby but Hermione seemed to agree with everyone else: that they shouldn't rush the decision.
"While we're on the subject of the baby," Hermione said as she stood, lying her parchment and quill on the desk, "I have a confession to make."
"You do?" Harry asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
"I actually did know the staff would react the way they did."
"Really?" Harry said skeptically.
"Yeah. It's too bad Ginny couldn't be here too but…"
"Be here for what Hermione?"
"Follow me." Before Harry knew what was happening, Hermione had pulled him from his chair and was leading him to the door. "We have a little surprise for you."
"Oh no, Hermione, what did you do?"
"Come on Harry, it was a team effort." She said the last five words very loudly as she threw the door open.
Harry let out an audible gasp as he took in the sight before him. A massive wicker basket sat on the floor beside Abigail's desk. It was large enough for a Hagrid-sized Little Red Riding Hood and stuffed to overflowing with all kinds of gifts: toys of all shapes and sizes (including several that wouldn't be used for several years), handmade blankets and clothes, and a fair number of items for Harry and Ginny including their favorite treats from Honeydukes and a few other useful items. It was a moment before Harry noticed the growing crowd of applauding witches and wizards surrounding him. "What is all this?" Harry said in exasperation.
"What does it look like?" Hermione said with a grin. "Don't worry. I'll help you get it home. Go on. Take a few minutes to talk. I'll intervene if things get out of hand."
"Very funny." Harry glared at her and turned to the small crowd of people before him. "You all really shouldn't have. I'm touched," Harry said, shaking hands. "Thank you all. Ed… Will… Larry… Sally…" Harry continued greeting as many people as he could. Distantly he thought he heard a faint pop from somewhere behind him. Turning he noticed Hermione had heard it too. Shrugging, she indicated she would be right back, and turned into her office.
"When will you bring the dear in so we can see him?" a young witch was asking breathlessly.
"I promise we'll come by as soon as we can for a visit, but as you probably know, we're going to be out of the country for much of the year."
"Oh do be careful out there won't you?"
"Of course Mandy. I'm sure everything will be fine. Professor Ivonov is a fine man. He'll take good care of us, you can be sure." Harry was beginning to think the stream of people would never end. "Yes, wonderful to see you too Hubert. Give my best to your wife."
"Harry."
"Hang on a minute Hermione. I think I'm nearly done."
"Harry that was Ron in the fire," Hermione said darkly tugging on Harry's sleeve.
"What did he want?" Harry said, still shaking hands
"Harry, would you come here!" Hermione gave a final yank on his arm, pulling him from the powerful grip of a rather disgruntled looking Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"What?" Harry hissed, trying not to yell. Harry noticed Hermione looked pale and stricken as she steered him into the corner, turning him to face away from the crowd of curious onlookers.
"Something's wrong," Hermione whispered severely. "They're taking the baby to St. Mungo's right now."
Under better circumstances Harry might have observed how much respect Hermione commanded from her subordinates and how well organized they were. Despite the obvious fact that something was terribly wrong, with only a few quickly whispered words to Kingsley, Hermione had set off a cascade of action. The sea of people in front of them parted as Hermione and Harry ran down the length of the room, turning and sprinting along the corridor toward the Department for Counterfeit Spells and Objects, where Arthur Weasley could be seen poking his head out of his office impatiently. Two Aurors followed behind them while many more were running in the opposite direction, through the giant oak doors and into the lift at the other end of the corridor.
Running entirely on instinct Harry reached quickly into the jar beside Arthur's office fireplace and threw a handful of floo powder into the fire Hermione had lit with her wand as they slid into the room. Harry was just stepping toward the roaring emerald green flames when Hermione yanked him back. "Hold on Harry. Hestia, you and Sturgis go first. You know what to do."
"What are you doing?" Harry bellowed at Hermione as the two Aurors disappeared into the flames. "Let me through!" Arthur grabbed Harry's other arm as Hermione struggled to restrain him.
"In a minute Harry," Hermione said, trying to sound calm. "We need to make sure everything is clear."
"What do you mean clear?"
"We need to make sure everything is safe. We don't know what this is yet Harry."
"My son is going to the hospital! I should be there! This isn't about my safety."
"We don't know that. You're the most famous wizard alive, Harry. We'll never be sure we found all the Death-Eaters. If one of them wanted to get to you, your family would be a target. I don't like this any more than you do Harry, but we can't just barge in there until we know what's going on." Just then there was a green puff of smoke in the fireplace. "There's the signal: all clear. I'll go first," Hermione said as she reached into the jar for more floo powder, "Harry will follow me and then Arthur, you'll follow Harry if that's alright."
"Fine," Mr. Weasley said. "I'll see you there. I'll just stop and tell Fred and George what's going on and I'll be right behind you."
Several dizzying seconds later, Harry emerged from a fireplace in a small study. Leaping over a sofa, he sprinted for the door. As he emerged into the long, sterile looking hallway, he took aim at the main lobby with its desk labeled "Inquiries" and began to run just as Hermione, once again, grabbed his arm, stopping him mid-lurch.
"Harry, we already know where they are, now calm down." She took Harry by both shoulders and looked deeply into his fiery green eyes, which now held a fear she had never before seen in them. "Harry, you have to stay with me. I know you're scared, but you can't forget who you are. We don't know what this is yet and you can't go bouncing off the walls and raising all kinds of racket. We don't know what this is, and until we do, I need you to be strong. Ginny needs you to be strong. Are you with me Harry?" Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears but she blinked them away, hardening her stare. "Are you with me?"
Harry nodded weakly but didn't speak. Millions of thoughts raced through his head, crowding out his reasoning, his logic, his speech. Suddenly it occurred to him that he hadn't even considered using magic. Hermione pushed gently down on his arm as he drew his wand, almost out of instinct.
"You won't be needing that. There's nothing you can do. You need to be calm as we walk through the lobby. The last thing we need is a bunch of people wondering why Harry Potter is running through St. Mungo's looking panicked."
"Where is he?" Harry's voice cracked as he finally spoke.
"Second Floor," Hermione said calmly as she guided Harry between the people wandering the lobby.
"Magical Bugs? What is it? What does he have? It's not Dragon Pox is it?" Harry stammered, his voice rising.
"Harry, what did we just agree upon?" Hermione scolded. "You must stay calm." Harry nodded urgently. "Good. Now they don't know what it is yet. They're starting there and they'll move him once the have a better idea of what's wrong."
As they climbed the last few steps before the second floor landing, Sturgis Podmore turned to meet them. "They're just across the hall there," he said gesturing to a door marked Emergency Diagnosis- Viewing Area. He glanced down the corridor in both directions and made a hand signal to an Auror down the hall from them.
Harry was in a trancelike calm, too overwhelmed to show any emotion at all. The scene they found when Hermione pulled open the door was much different. Before anyone could say anything, Ginny collapsed into Harry's arms and wailed unintelligibly into his chest as he carried her toward a chair and sat with her. Mrs. Weasley was leaning against another chair for support, crying openly into a handkerchief. Ron simply stood, looking dumbstruck. Hermione crossed quickly to him, hugging him tightly as he whispered in her ear.
Harry glanced around. They were in a small rectangular room, too wide and short to be considered a corridor but too narrow and barren to really function as a room. The only items in this room were the chairs where they sat: two rows along the center axis of the room, facing away from each other. Straight across from each row of chairs, along the right and left hand walls, were two large doors next to two large glass windows looking into two large exam rooms. The one on the right side was empty and dark, its door propped open for easy access. Inside the one on the left a dozen Healers in green robes were bunched together over a table on which, Harry could only speculate, must be his infant son. He tried several times to crane his neck this way and that, but never glimpsed anything that would help explain the situation. Just then Mr. Weasley burst through the door.
"How is he?" he asked the room at large. Ginny was still catching her breath as Harry tried feebly to calm her. Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to speak and doubled over as another flood of sobs overcame her. "Molly please," Arthur said, crossing to her and lifting her face in his large hands. "You have to be strong Molly. Look, you're making Ginny hysterical. Calm down and tell me what's happening."
Mrs. Weasley steadied herself but still couldn't speak. Finally, a dark voice Harry didn't know rose from over his shoulder. It was a moment before he realized it was Ginny speaking. "I went in to wake him for his afternoon feeding…" she said, sniffling as she turned away from Harry and leaned back against him, facing the others. "He was…" Ginny's voice broke and she closed her eyes, swallowing hard. "He was stiff and looked… I don't know, scared."
"Scared?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"Yes. No. I don't know. He just wasn't right. I could tell from his face something was wrong. I tried to pick him up and his arm was twisted back and his leg was bent strangely. When I tried to pull it straight he screamed bloody murder. His knee wouldn't even budge." Ginny choked again. Harry squeezed her and kissed her softly on the back of her head. "It was stiff as iron. I couldn't get it to move and even the slightest pressure hurt him."
There was a silence in the room as the strangeness of what Ginny was saying permeated the heavy air. On the other side of the glass, one or two Healers would occasionally run out of the room and return with a strange instrument or a book. Harry stared straight ahead, too stunned to speak. Occasionally a Healer would shift positions and Harry would briefly glimpse a tiny hand or foot and his breath would catch in his throat. Ginny couldn't bear to look. Ron cleared his throat several times.
"Has anyone heard anything like this before?" Ron asked. Harry looked hopefully at Hermione but her silence gave the answer. Whatever they were dealing with was rare enough, even Hermione hadn't heard of it. Ginny turned again and buried her face in Harry's shoulder as he blinked up at the ceiling.
Time lost all meaning and definition. Seconds seemed like hours, minutes felt like seconds.
"Did you tell Fred and George?" Ron asked.
"Yes," said Mr. Weasley. "They're going to pass word to Bill, Charlie, and Percy and come by as soon as they can."
The room was silent again for a long time. Harry wasn't sure how long they had been sitting there when he saw a Healer slam a book closed in frustration and turn grimly to the faces watching from the other side of the glass. With what was obviously a deep sigh, he pushed open the large door next to the window and approached the weary family.
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter," he began. Harry nodded by way of a greeting. "I'm Healer Branson. First of all, your son remains stable without assistance and it does not appear he is in any immediate danger." There was a collective sigh throughout the room and the air around them suddenly felt lighter. "That's the good news. We still haven't found anything conclusive about his condition. I'm sorry to say, this is something nobody in this hospital has ever seen. Given the mysterious nature of the condition, we aren't letting our guard down. He may not appear to be in danger, but we don't know what to expect."
"Have you looked into Muggle symptoms and remedies?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Branson said with a nod. "There are a number of conditions common among Muggles we have examined. One is called Tetanus, which is a bacterial disease and can result in stiff joints, especially the jaw. Another condition that does not restrict itself to Muggles is called rigor mortis…" Ginny gasped audibly, "Which is a stiffening of the muscles shortly after death. Don't let that one frighten you. Neither of those conditions' symptoms matches what we're dealing with. The stiffness in your son's joints is much more pronounced and, we have determined, has nothing to do with his muscles at all. It appears we're dealing with the joints themselves."
Hermione's head suddenly jerked in Harry's direction. Harry looked at her in confusion. Hermione's eyes wandered, as she seemed to be trying to recall something. A confluence of thoughts seemed to be coursing through her mind as her face twisted in concentration. After a moment her eyes opened wider and she looked again at Harry. "Harry, how is your shoulder feeling?" she said slowly.
"My shoulder?"
"Yes, you were rubbing it in my office. You said it was sore from holding the baby."
"Yeah, what about it?" Harry asked trying not to sound perturbed at the interruption. Healer Branford, however, seemed to have caught on to Hermione's train of thought and was listening now with great interest.
"How does it feel right now?" Hermione asked eagerly.
"Fine!" Harry spat, throwing his right shoulder back. "Ow!" Ginny wheeled around when Harry suddenly froze mid-motion. Harry's face was screwed up in pain as he reached over with his left hand, gripping his shoulder and slowly lowering his arm, wincing.
"Hold on there," Healer Bradford said, walking over to Harry with his wand raised. Harry instinctively recoiled. "It's alright Mr. Potter. I need to have a look at your arm. Are you able to remove your shirt?"
"Aaah, I'm not sure," Harry said with a grimace. "I don't know why it's…"
"Never mind then. Hold still." With a flick of his wand, the Healer vanished Harry's right sleeve and was now hovering his wand over Harry's shoulder. He muttered several incantations Harry had never heard. Occasionally Ginny's ears would seem to perk up as though she had heard something familiar. "Hm," Healer Bradford said as Harry's sleeve rematerialized. "This is an interesting development. It seems we may, in fact, be dealing with a communicable disease. Your symptoms seem to be an early stage of what your son is going through. Who else has been in close contact with the baby recently, especially for extended periods of time? I'm sure you have Mrs. Potter. Anyone else?" Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Have you felt unusual stiffness in your joints?"
"I never thought anything of it," Ginny said in amazement, rubbing her knee and stretching her leg experimentally. "After all, why would I complain? It wasn't nearly as bad as the pregnancy. I just attributed it to, as Harry said, being tired from holding the baby so much. What does this mean?"
"I don't know yet," Branford said, suddenly sounding optimistic, "but this is definitely something to work with. If you'll excuse me, I need to discuss this with my colleagues and see if it gets us closer to determining what this is."
They all watched eagerly as Healer Branford closed the door behind himself, speaking rapidly now to the other healers in the room. Several of them showed brief looks of astonishment, while others cocked their heads in curiosity. Eventually Branford turned back to the examination table with his wand raised and the baby was, once again, obscured from view. Several other Healers rotated closer, each trying their own techniques. Harry let out a groan as several of them shook their heads and stared up at the ceiling with looks of defeat.
"It's okay Gin'. I'm sure they'll find something," Harry said, squeezing Ginny tightly as another silent tear trickled down her cheek. She turned her gaze away from the window again, choosing instead the emptiness of the dark room over Harry's shoulder. Ron walked over and rubbed Ginny gently on the back, leaning over to kiss her cheek. Harry gave him an appreciative nod and Ron squeezed Harry's shoulder before recoiling, looking suddenly concerned. Harry realized why he was worried and shook his head slightly to indicate there was no harm done.
Looking thoroughly helpless, Ron shrugged and took up position on Harry's other side, staring ahead through the glass as the endless stream of Healers bustled about, checking one book and then another, trying one test and yet another. Harry admired their tenacity. He didn't know whether it was compassion or scientific curiosity that was driving them to keep trying, but he didn't care. Somehow Harry felt confident they would stop short of nothing but a cure for whatever it was that had crippled his son and now, it seemed, might be affecting any or all of the family.
Slowly the minutes continued to tick away as they sat and stared ahead. So many different Healers had gone in and out of the exam room, Harry had lost track and began to wonder how many it really was. By now, most of the hospital staff probably knew they were there. Harry was watching now as a tall Healer with wavy brown hair stood arguing with a woman who was clutching a very old looking book in her arms. Harry was surprised he hadn't noticed her before. She was the only one in the room not wearing lime green Healer's robes. The couple looked familiar for some reason. Harry wasn't sure if it was because he had seen them coming in and out of the room all day or if he had seen them somewhere else. He dismissed the idea, remembering how impossible it was for someone as visible as he, Harry, was to remember every person he ever spoke to. He was used to seeing people he recognized but didn't know. Why would St. Mungo's be any different?
"What is keeping Fred and George?" Mrs. Weasley said in frustration. "It's been hours."
"Don't worry Molly," Mr. Weasley replied. "Who knows how quickly they'll get in contact with any of the other boys, let alone all three. Plus they have to close up the shop. They'll be here."
Now the couple was arguing more fervently over the book. The wavy-haired man tugged at it, which earned him what looked like a piercing shriek. Several of the other Healers in the room looked as though they were trying to calm the feuding pair. Harry continued to wonder where he had seen these people before as the man now pointed gravely in the direction of the exam table and then, to Harry's surprise, straight at him. The three of them locked eyes for a moment. After a few confusing seconds the woman tossed the book on a nearby table and stormed from the room.
Harry looked down and realized Ginny had fallen asleep in his arms. They must have been sitting there for hours now and Harry had considered suggesting she get some sleep several times. Now he was glad he hadn't, knowing Ginny would have balked at the idea.
Looking back up, Harry now saw the wavy-haired wizard flipping through the old book, searching eagerly, almost as though he were looking for something he had read once before. Suddenly he picked up the book and carried it over to one of the other healers. Now that Harry got a good look at it, that old book looked familiar too. He started to wonder if he was seeing things and considered asking Ron to give him a sharp pinch in the side.
An abrupt rush of sound and a crash brought Harry out of his reverie and he realized two Healers were now walking briskly toward them. Healer Branford was now accompanied by the tall brown-haired Healer, who was carrying the book, both of them looking excited and worried at the same time.
"Nobody move," Healer Branford said curtly.
"We've been sitting here for six hours. We're not going anywhere," Harry said with slight frustration.
"I realize that. I just mean stay where you are. Try not to move around. I'm pretty sure we've discovered what we're dealing with here." At those words, Ginny was instantly awake again and turned around on Harry's knee, opening her mouth to respond. "Mrs. Potter please, this is very serious. You mustn't move around. None of you." Branford reached over and placed a hand on Mrs. Weasley's shoulder as she tried to stand. "Please. Let me explain.
"This is my colleague, Mr. Simmons," Branford began before anyone else could interrupt. "He is a specialist in magical diseases."
"Now I remember," Harry blurted.
"I'm sorry?" Mr. Branford said, eyeing Harry curiously.
"I thought I recognized you. We met several months ago down on the ground floor corridor. Robert right?"
"I was wondering if you would remember," Robert responded, smiling. "Nevertheless, we have important matters to discuss. You might remember also, Harry, that we were discussing a book, this book in fact." He flipped the book closed, holding his place with his index finger and turning it so Harry could examine it. Harry swallowed hard and Hermione shot him a curious look. Harry nodded minutely and looked up at Mr. Simmons, urging him to move on. "This is a rather unusual volume," Robert continued, "It contains information on a vast number of subjects, most of which we cannot begin to comprehend. When I was told about your son and his condition I thought this book might be helpful. It took me quite a while to get it here but I believe we've found out what this condition means.
"As far as we know, this disease hasn't been seen for over eight centuries. It starts out—"
"What is it called," Ginny interrupted.
"It has no name," Robert responded evenly, "or, more accurately, it has no English name. The first accounts of the disease come from Egypt and there is no good translation for the Egyptian name. The best word we have for it is—"
Robert was interrupted again, this time by the door to the main corridor bursting open. "THEY'RE OUR FAMILY AND WE'RE GOING IN!" Fred and George Weasley tumbled through the doorway. Outside a furious looking Auror looked in. All three of them were out of breath.
"Fred, George," Mrs. Weasley began, "what in Merlin's name is—?"
"Hush mum," Fred stammered, looking pale. To Harry's surprise, he could see George had tears in his eyes.
"Boys," said Mr. Weasley, rising and walking toward the twins despite Healer Branford's objections, "what's wrong?"
"We…we've just spoken to F…Fleur," George said with a sniff. "Bill is dead."