Author's Note: Oh look, I'm alive :D I've had this pretty much done for ages, but haven't really had the chance to post it until now. Credit must be given to LoveLifeForever, who made me think about my story a bit more/in a new way, and now things are going to happen that I hadn't ever intended :P

Not that what I intend matters much to this story-it seems to have it's own ideas about what's going to happen next :P

Chapter Three: A Difficult Dilemma

The second time Tony collapsed (with the first time being right before Harry introduced himself), he pulled himself to his feet fairly quickly, glaring stubbornly at the hand Harry offered him. The third time, he stayed down for a couple of minutes, and-rather grudgingly-accepted Harry's help in getting back on his feet.

The fourth time, Harry thought Tony might've died, he stayed down so long, and when he finally stood again, he couldn't walk without Harry's help. Harry glanced back behind them; he could still see the wreckage, though it was a fair distance away. At this rate, he thought to himself rather miserably, we'll die of dehydration before making it back to camp.

The fifth time Tony collapsed, Harry sent a silent Dormitis in his direction. Tony stayed down this time, and Harry pulled out his broom, cancelled the Shrinking Charm he'd placed on it, and flew them back to his camp.

If he was being honest, he'd admit he had been ready to do something like that after the third time. He'd almost Stunned him right then and there; the only thing that had stopped him had been the blue glow he'd noticed near Tony's heart. He didn't know what it was or why it was there, and he didn't want to find out the hard way.

It took him a little while to work out a spell that would be safe to use on Tony, but once he was sure that an enchanted sleep wouldn't cause any harm, Harry took the next chance he got to make use of it.

He didn't like the idea of using magic on an unsuspecting and defenceless Muggle, but he was pretty sure Tony needed medical attention as soon as possible. Besides, Harry reasoned as he flew in for a landing, it's not like he'll ever find out.

Harry laid Tony down gently on his bed—extraordinarily pleased he'd bought a Wizarding tent that could probably pass as a Muggle one, maybe, once he put a Muggle-Repelling Charm on that doorway over there—and yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. Hermione had insisted he bring it with him—saying that if he didn't, he was sure to need it—and he was now very glad he'd listened to her.

"I've got to say, Harry," Susan greeted him, picking up after the fourth ring, "I have never been so glad to lose a Galleon before in my entire life."

Susan Bones had been in the Auror program with him—at least, at first. She'd quickly gotten tired of being "Amelia's niece", however, and eventually joined the Healer program instead. There, she could get by on her own merits—and patch Harry up on a regular basis.

"Wotcher, Susan, I need—wait, what? What are you talking about?"

"There's a betting pool going on your little trip: how long you'll last, what condition you'll be in when you get back, how many laws you'll break, a bunch of different things. I put my money on three days for the first one; Seamus is out, too, he gave you less than a day. But you didn't call me to talk about that, I'm sure. What can I do for you?"

"You-you guys are taking bets," Harry stuttered, "on the outcome of my bet? That's—I am both shocked and not shocked, actually. Who set this up? Was it Ron? Or George? And, Susan—three days? Really? That's all you thought—"

"Harry!" Susan interrupted, laughing. "What did you call me for?"

"Oh, right. I found a Muggle who looks like he's in pretty bad shape; can you come by and take a look at him? I don't know if he can wait for me to find a Muggle doctor."

And just like that, Susan was gone, and Harry was speaking to Healer Bones. "What happened, Harry? What kind of injuries does he have?"

"I saw smoke and went to investigate, and there he was. Pulled himself out of the wreckage of some kind of machine—maybe one that flew? His arm's either broken, or his shoulder's dislocated, and the way he's holding himself I'd bet his ribs are injured somehow. Internal injuries maybe, possible head injury? It's hard to tell, he can't stay conscious for more than five minutes but that could be any number of things. Oh, and there's some kind of glowing blue thing in his chest."

"A 'glowing blue thing'?"

"Yeah. It's not magical, as far as I can tell, but I have no idea what it is."

A pause. "Only you, Harry," Susan sighed, managing to sound both amused and exasperated at the same time. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be right there."

~o~o~

"Well?" Harry asked, breaking the silence, as Susan finished up the last of her diagnostic spells. "What d'you reckon?"

"You were right about the arm, Harry. And the ribs. Dislocated shoulder, fractured ribs, mild concussion, a few minor burns, plenty of cuts and bruises. And there are some metal fragments lodged in his chest."

"There are?" Harry took another look at Tony's chest—as soon as his shirt was off, Harry'd taken a closer look at the 'glowing blue thing'. It was circular, and rose several millimetres from his chest. When Harry'd hovered his hand over it, wanting to touch it, he'd felt a sort of…tingle, for lack of a better word, similar to the sort of feeling he used to get at Hogwarts: like there was a lot of strong magic in the air.

He also hadn't noticed any signs of serious injury.

"There are. That's what I think this is for," she replied, gently tapping the source of the blue glow. "It's messing with my scans a bit, so I can't get a clear reading on it, but there are definitely pieces of metal in this man's chest, and they seem to have been there awhile. Normally, they'd have moved into his heart, or cut an artery or something, and he'd be dead."

"But they haven't, and he's not."

"Right, so something must be stopping them. And there's nothing else present that might explain things."

"Huh." Harry chewed his lower lip as he thought about that for a few moments. "Well, that's…can you get it out of him? I mean, get the bits of metal out, then get it out? It can't be fun having that thing in his chest, and what if something happened to it?"

"I knew you'd ask me that," Susan sighed. "I knew it."

"Well? Can you?"

Susan hesitated for a few moments. "I think I can," she replied slowly. "Getting the metal out will be easy enough. That…device will be trickier to remove, and I'll want another Healer on standby to restart his heart. We'll have to regrow the bones and muscles that were removed to make room for it; also tricky, but doable. But, Harry…"

"What is it, Susan?" Harry's stomach suddenly sunk into his shoes.

"There's no way that thing was put in him without his knowing about it. If we take it out now, while he's asleep, he'll notice. We'll have to erase weeks, maybe months of memories. That sort of thing always has an effect on a person. Not that we could erase his memory right now—"

"—because of the concussion." Harry finished for her. "We'd have another Lockhart on our hands, if we were lucky. So it's either leave that thing in him…"

"…or let a Muggle know about magic, lose our jobs, and get arrested for breaking the Statute of Secrecy."