Challenge info:The one word challenge
Warning: This fic is one huge block of text because the challenge is one word only in dialogue.
Disclaimer: Don't own.
All it took was one child to be sick to spread it to the entire class. Daniel Evans was that one sick child that had a very contagious illness that included throat infection. Incubation time was three weeks and Daniel never missed day of school unless he was visibly sick. By then the whole class had been infected and had spread it themselves to other students. First it was Daniel, then day by day others got sick. Few children were resistant or immune and since Harry and Dudley went to the same school it was no surprise they eventually got sick.
Now, before you ask what they were sick with, they had no name for it then. It came from out of nowhere and spread rapidly. No one over eighteen got sick with it but it was assumed they carried it. It was fine for the first week after it fully developed in the body. Then it got bad to worst. The first sign, rather perplexing for the doctors,was dizziness and difficulty in balancing. Then there was coughing, a rapid lowering of body temperature before causing an elevated temperature, weakness in the body as the sick couldn't walk at all, then finally a loss of voice that lasted a couple weeks and permanent if not cured. Dudley caught it first and was the first to display the symptoms. He was already experiencing his body dropping and rising in temperature when Harry began to cough.
A cure was found within the first three weeks as worry set in. It reduced the symptoms and aided in healing the body. It was given to parents and guardians for free as social workers went around trying to find as many teens and children that lived on the street or were homeless. Petunia wasn't a smart woman academically, tactically, nor known for thinking ahead. She had heard it could lead to death if it was given after coughs and in a flash of malignant spite she withheld it when he got sick. Two weeks passed before she even thought of it but Harry was still only coughing and appeared to be beating it so she passed it on to an orphanage who seemed to need it in a flash of impulsive kindness. Three weeks after she did he was still okay when he collapsed and his body temperature dropped before going back up again. Harry was carried to the cupboard by a guilty looking Petunia and she locked it behind her. It peaked at ninety but by the time Petunia checked it, before she went to bed, it was eighty and she hoped he lived through the night so she could fix her mistake. Dudley went back to school the day he fell sick and told the school the same story she told them. Harry had caught it and couldn't speak for the time being.
Reluctantly Petunia prepared the guest room, unwilling to clean the spare bedroom that Dudley put his toys, for Harry. He seemed to be doing alright and she bought the medicine and between chores checked his temperature and gave him his medicine and water. It didn't help. She had given it too late that it just got worst. Harry had to be taken to the children's hospital nearby before it was all used up. Petunia steeled herself for the best acting in her life. She would have to hid her complicity in the situation. She practiced her story forwards, backwards, and out of order in front of a mirror for a few hours before picking up the phone and calling about the emergency.
The conversations with the nurses and doctors were brief and tense. They didn't believe her lies any more than she did but they couldn't prove anything. The story she gave was plausible. She didn't expect anything to come from it though but then she was told that the police would come and check her story out because Harry wasn't getting any better. She did her best to clean up the cupboard and personalized the guest room with a few of Dudley's old sheets and toys to make it look like Harry slept there. They decided she was telling the truth and left empty handed.
Harry had to be put in a medically sleep as they tried treatment after treatment to save his voice- and stop the damage from getting worst. Nothing worked until it did. Harry had built up a tolerance for the pain killers and was put in a medically induced coma as they repaired the damage they could. He was unable to move for over six months and he had weakened considerably. He stayed longer there so that if there was a relapse that he'd already be there and to do physiotherapy for his weak and atrophied muscles to regain strength.
Back at the Dursley household, Dudley was having a hard time. Despite being smaller- Harry was Dudley's scape goat for when Dudley caused trouble and was known as the trouble kid among the adults. With Harry still in the hospital but the bullying still going on, the right conclusions were being made and Dudley couldn't wait to have his cousin around to get the attention off of himself. One day, he got his wish, but it only cause the trouble for the three other occupants to increase a few times exponentially. Harry was, simply put, too weakened to do anything but a sick and now mute child as they saved the rest of him except for the voice. His grip and strength wasn't strong enough to carry the food filled pan to the stove, his stamina and endurance wasn't enough to help with the chores- inside or out. Whenever Dudley tried to blame his cousin for the noises he made it was obvious he was lying and Harry was always at home.
Then there was the issue about his schooling. None of the options of schools the adults wanted to join wouldn't take him. They looked for the cheapest and easiest options but none of them were ready to take Harry with his now special needs. A tutor would notice something since her boys were as subtle as a mad Tasmanian devil or badger. Well, actually Vernon was as subtle as a roaring bear and Dudley like a charging boar. Petunia was the one who would have to decide and to say he was home-schooled would be asking for trouble since the cost and time would be too much considering the hospital bills she had to pay for her nephew. He would have to be tested as well- and Harry was a smart kid- though not a genius. If he scored high on memory and other sections but low on others then the game would be over before it began.
The only option that seemed to work for all of them was a full time living would be given a scholarship to it based on his scores on the test and be sent away for eleven months of the year. He would stay from July the first to the thirty first at the Dursley home. He would recover his strength, both mental and physical, in the white washed stone building that would become his haven from the world. Due to many young children and teens suddenly becoming mute there was an increase in funding for the school and financial incentive for them to take on new students. Before he left and when he entered there was a thorough physical examination to be certain that he wasn't mistreated by his caregivers.
It was mandatory for all students to learn braille and British sign language for all students so they could socialize and help each other in theory. He had many classmates who were learning it for the first time since what was informally known as the third monkey sickness that was misunderstood by westerners of the three wise monkeys as the third had the mouth covered so it was unable to speak. Classes were harder but Harry was the first in his class, year, and by the time he was eleven in the nation. He took Home Economics as the optional class. He was a smart boy determined to do well with a lot of time on his hands until he added the extra items. He regained his stamina and endurance in what was privately thought of as private training by the students instead of physical education to join the track team. The academy required two self defense lessons for each applicable student and the choices were between kick boxing, karate, or aikido with the general training. He chose aikido and between his training helped anyone that asked. He was a dedicated runner whose speed, stamina and endurance was great for his age range, star student academically, and one of the better pupils learning how to fight.
Life at home was cordial. The Dursley family learned specific sign languages so they could order him around with no list of chores or loud conversations for someone to hear. He bargained with them that he would do most of them as long as he got food and free time to do what he wanted with it. His school was nearly all year with transfers coming and going like bees in a hive. He was scheduled to go back in the evening of his birthday when he would turn eleven. It was on his birthday the letter came.
Getting out the the guest bedroom that he had permission to sleep in as he was too big for the cupboard now he went down to prepare breakfast. He picked up the mail and at the bottom of it was an envelope with green ink reading his name and address. He opened it and skimmed it before dismissing it as a joke and scoffing. Folding it up he put it in his pockets and made breakfast before his relatives came down. He wondered who Dudley got to write the letter as he waited for Dudley to leave to show them the letter. They had been asking if he had gotten any mail and the answer was always no- even this morning because the letter clearly wasn't real. He brought it out and laid it on the table as he cleared it and saw his aunt and uncle pale.
Putting the dishes in the sink, he sat down and looked at them as they were frozen in their seats, and bit back a sigh. They were taking this joke too seriously. Finally they looked up and he had his polite mask on. Using sign language he tried to ask a question but they interrupted him. He tried again and this time he just managed to say ,"Think?" before the two sent him to his room to check that everything was packed. He shrugged mentally and did as they ordered before deciding that they would eventually tell him that it was merely a prank from Dudley. After all, he had decided there was no such thing as magic, miracles, or a god after lying alone dying in the cupboard with a high fever.