Macnair had failed, somehow even with all that had been done to Harry's body he hadn't died. His stubbornness to live, to fight and to win had kept him alive even hours after the Death Eaters had left Hogwarts. They found him, partially buried by shattered stone, surrounded by blood.
The healers had been swift, and unrelenting in their healing. Within the hour they'd secreted him away to St. Mongo's. They did their best, and the news of Harry's steady recovery had been plastered across every wizarding front-page within Britain.
That had been their first mistake. Every Order member had visited Harry at least once during his six month stay, and as a result the security on his room had become non-existent. Truly, implementing the Dark Lords plan to finally rid the world of The-Boy-Who-Lived would be too easy.
Pansy's heels clicked rhythmically as she made her way towards the private ward. Perhaps her chosen out-fit was not practical as a Medi-Witch, but it certainly did not lack style. In fact the extent of her disguise was a simple hair-colour change potion and a light facial glamour.
The incompetence of the Healers and the Order of the Phoenix was unbelievable. Pansy could hardly believe that the specky git, their Chosen One, had single handily escaped and thwarted every plan her Lord schemed; because taking into account the present evidence, the Order hindered more than helped their saviour.
Pansy rolled her eyes and swished her hips sensually as she passed Potter's 'guards'. They were snoozing, one had this morning issue of The Profit draped over his face and the other was drooling down the arm that held his head. Pathetic!
Pansy pulled Potters door open – it wasn't even locked for Merlins-sake - and surveyed the darkened room inside. He was still asleep, it seemed. From the glowing reports listed on the front page of The Prophet, Pansy had come assuming the Boy Wonder would at least be conscious… But, she certainly wasn't going to wake the git and gloat. Unlike some of her fellow Death Eaters.
With a bump of her hips the door snapped closed and an absent swish of her wand over her shoulder insured they would not be heard or interrupted. Pansy tucked her wand between her breasts, hiding the weapon in her expanse of cleavage and approached Potters bed.
He'd just begun to fill-out, Pansy could see his sparse - but still thick - growth of facial hair, his cheek-bones were more prominent now that he'd lost the last of his baby-fat. He was quite broad for his short stature, he'd have lost his classic 'seekers build' if he'd grown any taller.
He'd make a fair beater now, Pansy thought. She looked away from the sleeping man and pulled a small muggle syringe from within her white Medi-Witch robes. She held it aloft for a moment, and watched the thick purple goo slide to the base of the needle. She tapped it with her finger, like she'd seen muggles do on telly-vision and depressed the plunger.
With a quiet hum Pansy grasped Potters closest arm and tapped his inner elbow three times, his veins instantly became visible and quickly Pansy located the correct one to insert the needle. Without any hesitation she slipped the needle into Potters arm and forced the thick potion into his bloodstream.
Pansy watched as the volume of potion decreased and flowed into Potter, with a twisted smile. Her Master would reward her handsomely for this; she could barely wait.
With this, Potter would slip into a comer so deep not even death would wake him. Pansy couldn't stop the light chuckle that broke free from her lips as she watched the last dregs of the purple potion leave the syringe. And the best part? Pansy smirked, it was permanent.
Or so Voldemort thought…
Hermione had begun her work five years ago and until one month ago it seemed as if the jig was up. She had finally found a cure, but it would be painful… Slow and drastically change Harry for life. That's why Ron was missing, that's why Draco was on edge and that's why Hermione was at the end of her rope.
"Harry…" She said her voice breaking. There he was, laying still as ever on a cold steel table. He was deathly pale, dark rings around his eyes. He had been like this for too long. "Darling." Hermione reached out and moved his hair away from his forehead revealing his scar. "Why…" She broke down and cried, her coffee mug smashed on the concrete floor.
…tbc