Chapter 2

Hospital Daze

There was a dull thumping like a mat being beaten echoing in his ears. With a start Harry realised it was his heartbeat. It sounded like a large drum was being struck repeatedly within the confines of his chest. With a supreme effort of will, he managed to force his eyelids open.

The world was a large blur. Everything was in shades of white and grey. Well, almost everything. Nearby were several patches of blazing red; he smiled when he saw them. He reached out to his right, blindly groping for his glasses on the bedside table before shoving them onto his nose. The world came back into focus.

Sunlight was streaming into the hospital wing through a partially open window above Harry's head. Across the ward, there were two other occupied beds. One had the curtains pulled tight around it while the other was taken by a young witch with her right arm in a sling. By the moaning coming from her, Harry guessed she was experiencing the painful effects of Skele-Gro as it regenerated the bones in her arm.

Hermione was curled in a chair by his bed, a blanket draped over her sleeping form. Ron and Bill were standing at the end of his bed, conversing in whispers, every now and then glancing worriedly towards Madam Pomfrey's office. Harry noted with a pang of anger that Ginny was nowhere to be seen.

"Well good morning," he said. Bill and Ron cut off their conversation and Hermione's eyes flew open. After a moment of stunned silence, in which Harry became decidedly uncomfortable under their shocked gaze, they all began talking at once.

"Harry, we were really worried-"

"What were you thinking flying alone so soon after-"

"You took one hell of a fall there, mate-"

Harry waited for them to stop. The dull pounding in the back of his head was giving him a headache enough without the three of them bombarding him as soon as he woke up.

"What happened?" Harry asked quietly. The three of them glanced at each other before Bill spoke.

"We're not certain," he said gravely, "It would take some powerful Dark magic to do so much damage to a Firebolt. Not to mention sustain an enchantment over four bludgers at once."

"There were five," Harry corrected.

Ron looked horrified, "Five?"

"Yeah," Harry shrugged, "I was out looking for my snitch when the five of them started chasing me. I have no idea where they came from."

"I think it would be safe to say that it was probably a rogue Death Eater," Bill said slowly, "You would have undoubtedly made some new enemies when you beat You-Kno … oh, very well; Voldemort. I might need to talk to you about what you saw, Harry."

"What he saw?!" Hermione shrieked, shocking the others, "I think he should probably focus more on getting better at the moment."

Ron and Bill looked at each other sheepishly. Hermione glared at them for a second before turning back to Harry, "You are not to leave this Hospital wing until you are better, Harry. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded timidly, trying very hard to ignore the fact he had just been talked down by one of his best friends. Bill looked thoughtful, "Harry, could I see your wand for a moment?"

Surprised by the request, Harry reached over and grabbed into the pocket of his cloak which was hanging from a stand next to his bed. He felt his stomach plummet when he realised it wasn't there.

"My wand," he said hoarsely, "My wand's gone!"

Stunning everyone, Ron laughed, "Blimey, mate. It completely slipped my mind in all the excitement. I found it near where you crashed when they were carrying you up here."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and took his newly restored wand of phoenix feather and holly from Ron's outstretched hand. He handed it on to Bill, giving a nod of thanks to his best friend. Ron just shrugged as if to say, 'It's nothing'.

Bill examined the wand for a moment, then pulled out his own wand and put the tip of his against the tip of Harry's. "Prior Incantato," he incanted. He raised Harry's wand and pointed it across the room. At first nothing happened. Then, a red light erupted out of Harry's wand and a figure in black appeared on the opposite side of the ward. The red light struck the cloaked figure who was thrown off his feet. As suddenly as they had appeared, the apparition of both man and spell faded.

"It seems," Bill said slowly, handing Harry back his wand, "that we won't be able to identify this fellow until he decides to show himself again; his cowl was pulled so low, it was a wonder he could see what he was doing."

The four of them sat in silence for a while, before Harry thought to ask, "Ah, exactly how much damage did I take last night?"

Ron grinned, "Last night? You've been here for three days, mate. We're going to have to reserve a bed for you in here next term. You've visited this place so many times, they'll probably get you to engrave your name in the wall or something."

Hermione glared at him, "It's not funny, Ron. Harry, you didn't exactly trip down the steps. You somehow managed to dislocate your left arm from the elbow downwards, shattered your right foot and kneecap and broke several of your ribs."

"Is that all?" Harry said, chuckling, but quieted instantly at the murderous look on Hermione's face, "How's the cleaning going?"

"The Gryffindor and Astronomy Towers have been completely rebuilt," Ron said, "The kitchens and Hufflepuff common room are almost done, and we've begun the reconstruction of the Entrance Hall. Oh, we managed to finish cleaning the Room of Requirement."

Harry nodded, "I suppose you weren't able to fix the room's shapeshifting abilities yet?"

"It will take some strong magic to restore it," Hermione murmured, "McGonagall says-"

"Bah, McGonagall doesn't know much more than the rest of us," Ron interrupted, "Back to important business." Hermione looked affronted.

"Mum says you can come over to the Burrow this summer," Ron continued, a hopeful gleam in his eye, "She says she doesn't want you alone for the holidays. I mean, I know you might want to stay in Grimmauld Place for the first time, but mum's cooking a massive end of war feast. She's going to have a bit of trouble with the preparations; I swear she's invited half the wizarding world."

Harry imagined the hollow emptiness of number twelve Grimmauld Place and the painful memories he would have to endure alone, and then the cheerful atmosphere and recollections of the Burrow. It didn't take him long to decide, "I'll be there, Ron." He was struck by sudden inspiration, "Ron, would your mum like some help with the workload?"

"Sure, I guess," said Ron, confused, "But I don't really want to-"

"Not us, you nitwit," he said laughing. He turned and called over the side of his bed, "Kreacher!"

With a loud crack, the house-elf appeared right beside Harry's bedside table. The filthy rag he used to wear was gone, replaced by a clean white towel that was wrapped around his waist, with the golden locket of Regulus Black hanging around his neck. He bowed low, his large nose and ears brushing the tiled floor. He was a much different Kreacher to the one Harry had met three years ago, "How may Kreacher serve you, master Harry?"

Harry smiled at the elf, "Kreacher, I've been invited to the Burrow for the summer and I'm not planning on returning to Grimmauld Place much during that time."

Kreacher's long face became downcast. Harry hurried on, "I was wondering if you might like to join us and well, you know, help around at the Burrow for a couple of weeks."

Kreacher smiled. It wasn't a particularly charming smile, but it was far better than the way he would grimace and mutter about Mudbloods and blood traitors behind their backs, "Kreacher would be happy to join master at the dwelling of the noble Weasley house."

Harry sighed in relief, adjusting his glasses where they had been slipping down his nose, "If you could go ahead and take some clothes over for me and prepare my bed for me, I'd be very much obliged."

"And maybe you could make another one of those steak and kidney pies," Ron put in hopefully. "Please," he added hastily, seeing the black look Hermione was giving him. Harry smiled and Bill laughed.

With one more wrinkly smile and another sweeping bow for Harry, Kreacher vanished with a loud crack.

Ron grinned at Harry, but was bustled out of the way by the matron Madam Pomfrey, "Don't think you're getting out of here anytime soon, Potter. You'll be lucky to be out of this bed by next term if I have anything to say about it."

Harry grimaced as she approached with a goblet full of smoking liquid. He had been here too many times to think that whatever the plump woman gave him would taste any good. His guess was right on mark. He almost choked as the thick medicine was forced down his throat.

Bill chuckled as the woman moved back toward her office, "It might take some time to prove to Poppy you're alright. You should have heard her when you were brought in."

"She went off her tree when she saw you," Ron said quietly, eyeing Madam Pomfrey cautiously, "Went on for hours about young people always going off on adventures without a second thought for their own health."

"And well she would!" Hermione said, firing up again, "Any doctor would if they saw the state you were in."

"Just give me my Firebolt and I'll fly straight out of here," Harry said grinning. The others glanced at each other again, the difference being they looked hopeless. He felt his stomach do a back flip, "Where exactly is my broomstick?"

Bill and Hermione turned to Ron, who coughed nervously, "You connected with the ground pretty hard. But, I mean, the curse did more damage to it anyway. It was probably done for before you crashed … but anyways …"

Harry watched as Ron pulled a black and twisted piece of wood from behind his back. With a downcast face, Harry took it off him. The entire tail end of the broom had been blasted off. The word Firebolt was just visible on the ash covered handle. This had been the first gift Sirius gave him. Now almost nothing remained that had been given him by any of his guardians. He felt his eyes watering but forced back the tears.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione said anxiously.

He hid his face from them for a second before turning back, anger in his emerald green eyes and his voice as cold as ice, "And we're sure we don't know who did this?"

"We don't know, and you don't have to know either," Bill said firmly, "There's no need for you to worry about them. You need to concentrate on your recovery. No doubt you're going to need your strength next year."

Harry nodded glumly. He placed the ruined Firebolt down by the side of his bed and lay back on his stack of pillows. He suddenly noticed a large pile of sweet boxes lying on the floor beside his bed.

"How long did you say I've been in here?" he asked faintly.

Hermione sniffed, "Those are from your well wishers. They seem to think you were mortally wounded from the fall and deemed it necessary to give you tribute to pull you through the hard times."

Harry's face cleared and he smiled, "I can't eat all of it myself. Who wants to give me a hand?"

Bill said he'd better go and tell the others Harry was awake. Harry and Ron attacked the pile of sweets, eating ferociously under the disapproving gaze of Hermione. Several times Harry gagged when he got a particularly disgusting flavor of Bertie Bott's Beans, the worst of which was troll bogies. He and Ron opened several cases of Chocolate Frogs, trading cards like they had on their first day on the Hogwarts Express. But the biggest surprise came when Harry caught Ron staring in shock at a card in his hand. Harry snatched it off him and felt his own jaw drop.

Harry Potter. The 'Boy Who Lived'. Only known wizard to have survived the Avada Kedavra or Killing Curse. Defeated the Dark Wizard Voldemort and currently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The picture of him was seated in a large armchair and waved madly at the real Harry lying in hospital.

"You're finally on the cards, Harry," Ron said, his voice torn between excitement and jealousy. Harry glanced at him, but Ron was already looking through the pile of sweets again, studiously ignoring the card in Harry's hand. Harry didn't bring it up again.

It was almost noon when someone else arrived. Mrs Weasley, Bill and Charlie hurried through the door, followed a little way behind by a quiet Ginny. Mrs Weasley started sobbing as soon as she saw Harry and grabbed him in a bearhug, "Harry … we were so worried … thought you'd been killed … terrible for someone to come after you again so soon after beating You-Know-Who …"

"I'm alright Mrs Weasley," Harry said awkwardly, "Believe me when I say I've had a lot worse than this. Five bludgers and a single wizard have got nothing on Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

"Nonetheless," she said, her eyes still wet, "I'll be making your favourite treacle tart for when you come over."

She ran around Harry's bed, fluffing up his pillow and straightening his sheets. She told him several times that if there was anything he needed, all he had to do was ask. Ron, Bill and Charlie were smirking at him from behind her.

"I'm alright, Mrs Weasley, really," he assured her.

She looked unconvinced but finally stepped back. Charlie grinned at Harry. Shaking the Weasley's hand, Harry noticed there were a few more blisters and sores on Charlie's palm, "What have you been doing lately Charlie? Your hand feels like you stuffed it down the throat of a dragon."

Charlie grimaced, "Very close to it. We've been rounding up the few that the Death Eaters let loose. We lost one of our own to a Hebridean Black that was three miles from London. It took three squads of Obliviators to wipe the memories of all the Muggles that saw us."

"I'm sorry," Harry said automatically.

Charlie waved the apology away, "Harry, don't apologise for things that are most certainly not your fault."

"Er … Harry …"

Harry tried very hard not to glare as he turned his head to look at Ginny. She was standing by the entrance to the ward and had an unreadable expression on her face.

"Come on, Ron," Hermione said hurriedly, "Let's go and get something to eat, I'm starving."

"I feel like I just ate three meals," he complained, pretending not to notice the murderous stare on her face as she dragged him away.

Mrs Weasley saw the significant look Hermione directed first at Ginny and then at Harry. The mother of seven smiled, "Bill and Charlie, could I speak to you two outside for a moment?"

The two eldest Weasleys smirked at Harry again as they were pushed forcefully out of the ward by Mrs Weasley. Harry gave them a piercing glare that would have been able to break rocks. The door slammed behind them with an echoing thud. Across the ward, the young witch gave another pitiful groan.

"Harry?" Ginny said again, questioning. He stared into her deep brown eyes, his face scrunching up into a scowl, remembering the way she had been treating him for the last couple of weeks.

"What is it that you want, Ginny?" he said coldly. At the ice in his voice, Ginny's brown eyes narrowed dangerously. Harry glared straight back at her, ignoring the warning bells going off in the back of his head. He felt as if he could have cut the tension in the air with a sharp knife.

"Don't take that tone with me," she snapped, "I may not exactly have been supportive of your decision to hunt Voldemort, but I was never against you."

"So why have you been avoiding me for the last few days," he shouted, "I finally beat the man who has been hunting me since I was one year old. I now have all the time in the world to spend with you and instead you decide to shun me."

"You know perfectly well why I'm angry with you," Ginny said fiercely, "You had no right to sacrifice yourself for the wizarding world. You could have at least told me before you did it, rather than try to be noble."

"I did what was right!" Harry roared, "It's what anyone would have done if they had been in my position."

"Right by whom?" she yelled, "Harry, you have to take control of your own life rather than do what others expect of you!"

"Then," he said icily, "I'll take your advice right now. As I obviously have no control over this conversation, I want you to leave at once. Nothing is more important to me than doing what is right, do you hear me. Nothing!"

Ginny's self-control broke. Her eyes began to well with tears and she ran to the door. Halfway out, she turned and spoke, her voice quivering with emotion, "If doing what is right means more to you than I do, I do not regret saying farewell … goodbye Mr. Potter."

With a swish of her cloak she was gone, leaving Harry feeling strangely empty. He sat in silence for hours, not talking to the others when they returned. He didn't sleep until well past midnight and his dreams were plagued with images of a red-haired girl sitting alone in the dark, crying.

Finally!!!! Done at last, very tedious stuff. I hate these emotional things, I'm no good at them. Stay with me, more action on the way. Promise next one'll be more interesting. Just couldn't have harry go from being attacked and getting smashed, to being healed and better the next morning. Anyways, probably get next chapter up by the end of the weekend.

Ps. Could someone please explain what a beta is?

Pps. REVIEW.