Chapter 4: St. Mungo's

Harry didn't remember much from his night in St. Mungo's.

He remembered walking through the glass door of the old clothes shop and seeing Hermione being loaded onto a stretcher and levitated out. He remembered refusing to let go of Ginny, and instead following a healer in to a ward with her still wrapped in his arms. He remembered sitting on a bed, with Ginny in his lap and Healers drifting around them, indistinct, their paths stretching out behind them as he struggled to force his muddled brain to work normally.

The only thing he remember with absolute clarity, something he didn't think he would ever forget, was Ginny slipping her hand into his, looking up at him, smiling, and whispering "I love you too."

Harry woke the next morning as a Healer unwrapped the bandage from around his head. "Morning, sleepy!" she whispered cheerfully as she passed him his glasses.

As she cleared away the bloody bandages (apparently he had cracked his scull open the night before) Harry looked around his ward. Mr Weasley was sleeping soundly in the bed to his right, Mrs Weasley dosing in a chair between them. Across the room Harry could see the red hair of another Weasley, who he gathered from the snoring was George, sticking out from under his tangled sheets. In a chair next to him was Percy, looking pale, huge shadows under his closed eyes.

Apart from Harry and the other Weasleys, three others were in the ward, though they were all asleep. Yearning to find his best friends and Ginny, Harry quietly slipped out of his bed, the Healer now occupied with another patient. Leaning against his bed Harry had to pause, because he was quite sure he was going to be sick. His head pounded painfully and even limited movement was making him nauseous. Swallowing his discomfort, Harry grabbed his wand and shuffled across the room, helped himself to a dressing gown to cover the hospital robe he was wearing, and left.

Harry looked around the deserted corridor, suddenly aware of the flaw in his plan. Not only did he have no idea where he was, he also didn't know where Hermione or Ginny were.

He started to shuffle down the corridor, determined to find a sign telling him what floor he was on. He was about half way down the corridor when someone shouted his name.

"Oi! Harry!"

Harry spun around (which brought on another wave of nausea) to see Neville jogging towards him.

"Blimey Neville!" Harry gasped, trying not to throw up on Neville's shoes. "We need to stop meeting here."

Neville grinned in an apologetic sort of way.

"You after Ron, Hermione and Ginny?"

Harry nodded, leaning against the wall for support. "Where are they?"

"They got moved upstairs to Mum and Dad's floor. Apparently there wasn't enough room down here... You sure you want to try all those stair Harry? You look like hell."

Harry pulled a face at his old dorm mate.

Despite Harry's assurances, and great embarrassment, Neville insisted on supporting Harry all the way to the staff lift, where a wheelchair waited outside.

Harry caught the look on Neville's face.

"Oh no! No way am I sitting in that!"

Neville pulled out his wand and grinned at him. "Sadly Harry you don't have a choice. If you don't sit in that chair, you're either going to collapse, at which point I will catch you with it, or I'm going to hex you're legs together so you can't walk. You're choice."

Harry glared at Neville as he lowered himself onto the chair and allowed Neville to steer him into the lift.

Neville waved his wand at the door, said "Fourth floor." then turned to Harry.

"So what happened? Ron said you guys were attacked or something..."

Harry rubbed the back of his head, he could feel the bump where the healers had fused his scull back together. He tried to pull his foggy thoughts together.

"Well, I was outside after Fred's funeral with George, when out of nowhere Rodolphus Lestrange appeared and started firing curses at us."

Harry explained the whole story, including the entrance of the mysterious Professor Harte.

By the time Harry had finished his story, they were outside the "Hywel Dda – Unknown Curses" ward.

Neville knocked gently on the door.

It was opened a moment later by an exhausted Ron.

"Harry!"

"Hello, mate." Harry grinned.

"You look terrible."

"So I've been told."

Ron took the wheelchair, which Harry was rather attached to now, off Neville and wheeled Harry into the room.

The ward was a lot smaller than the one he had been in earlier. There were only four beds, the one in the far right corner closed off with some curtains. Hermione's bushy hair could be seen on the bed closest to him, where she was curled into a ball and sleeping softly. In the bed opposite was Ginny, who was sat up in bed reading the Daily Prophet.

She spotted her boyfriend immediately.

"Harry!"

She jumped out of bed and got about halfway across the room before an old, grumpy looking Healer stuck his head around the curtain at the end of the room.

"Oh no you don't! Back into bed right now!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and proceeded to sit on Harry's lap in the wheel chair. "I'm fine Healer Holloway! I feel great."

He scowled at her and walked into the room proper. "I don't care how you feel!" He came and snatched the chair out Ron's hands and stirred Harry and Ginny back to her bed.

"I've only ever read speculations about Druid healing. We have no idea the side effects of being brought back like that.

"Bed!" he barked pointing at the object in question. Ginny sighed, kissed Harry's cheek then climbed back into her bed, though she kept hold of Harry's hand.

"What do you mean brought back like..."

But the healer cut Harry off before he could ask his question.

Glaring at Harry he said "If you can't get around unassisted, young man, you shouldn't be out of bed at all."

Harry snorted. "Please, I've had worse."

Healer Holloway's eyes drifted up to Harry's scar before he muttered "Somehow, I don't doubt that."

Neville laughed and sat down in the chair next to Ginny's bed.

"I think between the five of us we've probable accumulated enough injuries to last several lifetimes, and that's not even counting Harry's whole killing curse thing!"

Harry rolled his eyes and Ginny gave his hand a squeeze.

"You were saying Neville?" She asked.

"Yeah," said Ron "What are you doing here?"

Neville shrugged, color creeping up his face from his neck.

"Its Mum's birthday. Gran likes to take them to this quiet beach off Swansea. Doesn't like them to spend all their time cooped up here. It's where my Dad proposed apparently...

"A few healers comes with us just to make sure they don't get upset or freak out or anything, but Mum loves it. Takes them ages to get ready though so Gran likes to get here nice and early."

Harry smiled at Neville, who was now staring at the floor, and quickly changed the subject. "What time is it anyway, Neville?"

Neville smiled gratefully at Harry.

"Half six."

"Melin's saggy left..." Ron groaned "I've now been awake 24 hours. That is so not right."

"Stop complaining and sleep then!" Retorted Ginny.

Harry pulled on her arm gently. Looking up at her he asked "What was Healer Holloway talking about just now about you being "brought back"?"

"He means," said a voice from behind the curtain "that Ginny's heart had stopped beating when I healed her last night."

Emily Harte walked out from behind the curtain. And she looked like crap.

She seemed to have lost a stone in weight overnight, there were large shadows under her brilliant blue eyes, and her skin was waxen and pale. She was wearing a rather revealing long white robe what brushed the floor. It hung from the edges of her shoulders, a v-opening revealing her body right down to her bellybutton. Underneath she wore a thin gauze like shift, through which Harry could see, causing him to blush a little, a large tattoo in the shape of a 5 pointed star, each point touching the edge of a circle, spreading from the top of her chest, down across her breasts and ending on her midriff. Although the white robe she wore on top curved to protect most of her dignity, she was showing enough to make Ginny cough in an attempt to hide her giggle. Around her waist was a silver rope that was dotted every few inches or so with many different colored stones. The robe looked like it was too big for her, hanging off her frame, the rope around her middle betraying how thin she was.

Following her was a man who could only be Harte's brother. Though he looked much older, he had the same brilliant blue eyes that you couldn't help but stare at. He also had the same pointed features, but whereas on Harte they seemed striking yet soft, on her brother they were harsh and intimidating. His forehead was creased from years spent scowling, and his lips were pressed into a tight disproving line. He was wearing a similar white robe to his sister, but without the v shaped slit. Around his waist was golden sash, with a simple brown cord lying on top, tied at the front. On it were several beads, mostly varying shades of blue, attached to the excess rope hanging down.

Harte strolled wearily over to Harry and offered him her hand. "We weren't really introduced properly last night. My name is Emily Harte, I'm a Druid."

Harte's brother scowled fearsomely at his sister after this comment. As Harry took her hand, Harte noticed Harry looking at her brother. She turned to observe him too.

She let out an explosive sigh. "Oh what now, Dewi?!" she snapped.

The man simply scowled some more and looked away.

Harte sighed. "Please excuse my baby brother. He had all cheerfulness surgically removed from him at birth."

Ron sniggered and Harte smiled warmly at him. She turned back to Harry.

"You were asking what happened to Ginny last night." She said, sitting down at the end of Ginny's bed.

"By the time you and I managed to pull Ginny from the rubble, the weight of the collapse had already done its work. Not only had she suffocated," at these words Ginny gripped Harry's hand tightly, "but her heart, liver and kidneys had also been crushed. She had stopped breathing, her heart stopped beating, and her organs had started to shut down."

Harry gripped Ginny's hand as tightly as she was gripping his. "So she was..."

"Dead?" She finished for Harry. "No. There is no way to bring back those that have passed on. No, she wasn't dead, but she was very close.

"I'm not a healer, but I learnt the theory of it when I was younger. I poured my magic into Ginny's body and tried to repair the damage."

At this Harte's brother seemed unable to contain himself any longer.

"And it was bloody foolish of you!" His Welsh accent was so thick, Harry would have laughed it wasn't for the murderous look on the druids face.

"Pouring out your magic like that. You could have killed yourself! You're not even trained properly! You could have killed the poor girl in your misguided attempt to be the hero! Lesser Dryw than you have drained themselves dry trying to save the unsavable! What good would you have been to anyone dead!?"

"Will you shut up!?" hissed Healer Holloway. "At least one of my patients are behaving and actually sleeping, and I would appreciate it if you didn't wake her up!"

Harte gave her brother a calm look. "Finished? Good."

She turned back to the others. "Any questions?"

Harry pondered for a few seconds what to ask Professor Harte, but it seemed Ron had been dying to ask a question for a while.

"You're a Druid? Like, a real Druid!?"

"You can't be!" exclaimed Neville, who looked equally incredulous. "The druids died out years ago."

Dewi shot a deadly look at Nevile. "Well we didn't! No thanks to your lot..."

Professor Harte sighed and shook her head as her brother started to rant again.

"The druids have kept themselves to themselves ever since the war. It took us a lot time to repopulate our numbers, though we will never have the same power we had before."

Professor Harte looked resigned and, for the first time during the conversation, Dewi's scowl disappeared and was replaced by a look that was one part sorrow, one part shame.

"The war? You mean the one with Voldermort?" Asked Harry, struggling to follow.

"No." Harte smiled kindly. "No the war my brother speaks of was over 1000 years ago. The war between the Druids and the Wizards."

"I thought that was only a myth."

Hermione, now awake, had sat up in bed.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" exclaimed Healer Holloway, throwing his hands up in the air. He stormed out of the room muttering under his breath something that sounded like "Bloody Teenagers".

Dewi looked across at Hermione. "What do you know about it, child?"

Hermione shifted to sit up a bit better. Ron was already at her bedside, pushing pillows behind her to make her more comfortable. She looked up at him with a sickeningly loving look.

Once she was settled she began to speak.

"I read about it in Chroniculus Punnet's "An Anthology of Ancient Magic". He said that very little is known about the war, as wizards destroyed most of the information of it. He thought it was because the wizardry population were ashamed of how they won. All I know is that the Druids struck the first blow, and Wizards the last."

"Rubbish!" exclaimed Harte's brother. "The Wizards left us no choice but to attack them, they started the war trying to draw us into battle."

"For the Gods sake, Dewi!" Harte snapped. "They're kids! They're not trying to blame the war on us, they didn't even know there had been one until a moment ago!"

Harte scowled at him, and Dewi wilted a little under her gaze.

Sighing, Professor Harte ran a hand over her face. Harry was struck again by just how tired she looked.

"Druids," She said slowly, "are tasked with ensuring the balance of the natural world. Ever since humanity started to develop and spread into nature, this has been very hard, as humanity is, after all, a child of nature. We exist to ensure that no creature on this earth suffers unnecessarily due to another.

"Wizards however, are not like normal people. The Druids have always treated Wizards as separate to Humanity. They had the ability to influence nature and, as a result, we have always expected them to help us protect the balance.

"You, however, have not always done this.

"In the years before the war, Wizards were gaining more and more power. They were starting to enslave the people who came to them for help, forcing them into servitude, enforced by their own self riotousness. They ignored their responsibility as guardians of nature, in favor of a life of worship and comfort.

"But not all the wizards in Britain believed themselves superior to the non-magical population. A young witch, no older than 13, came to the Druids, begging us to intervene, to put a stop to the way Wizards were treating the non-magic population. She told us about a new wave of murders. That her best friend had been killed in her bed, simply for not having a magical bloodline."

"Muggleborns..." whispered Hermione.

Harte nodded grimly. "The druids could not simply stand by and watch while this happened, though we struggled to believe the stories of brutality. We tried to force the Wizards Council to reign in their subjects, to try and protect the non-magical community. But they wouldn't listen.

"And then a certain Wizard - his name has been lost in history - decided that the Druids posed too high a threat to the Magical community. He crept into a Druid village one night and killed all the Children with Magical ability."

Hermione gasped, her hands shooting to her mouth. Harte's brother looked a little ill.

"How could they tell which ones had magic?" Asked Ron

Harte smiled sadly and indicated the tattoo on her chest. "Any druid child with magic is born with a birthmark in this shape. It depicts the 5 forces of nature; earth, air, water, fire and magic, all bound within the circle of human will. All those with magic display it as a sign for all, to show our life commitment to nature. In the old days this meant a life of celibacy and learning, in the days when our numbers were so great we could rely on the random births of those with magic. Though now the mark also shows our commitment to our numbers. Once we have graduated from our learning, the birthmark is covered with a tattoo, and we must marry within a year. If you cannot find a suitable match, then one is chosen for you."

Ginny grimaced. "That sounds awful."

Harte smiled at her. "It suits us well enough. The Gwragedd choose well for each person, matching souls that would fit well together. But back to our story.

"The Druids were outraged. A peaceful people by nature, we couldn't understand how anyone could hurt children. The Arglwydd Dryw, our leader, decreed that Wizards had become infected, and we needed to step in, to the restore the balance.

"And so the war started.

"The Druids spread across the country, hunting down Wizards who abused non-magical people. Sadly the Druids were not very discriminating, so fuelled by their desire for revenge. Many innocent people were killed.

"Suddenly the same girl who had asked us to intervene was now begging us to stop. But while she pleaded with our high council, a wave of Wizards were approaching to meet us in battle.

"Our forces far outmatched theirs, as we always had. So we were shocked to see them attempting to fight us in open battle. But when we arrived at the battlefield, it suddenly made sense. The Wizarding forces had gather on a hill, looking down on us while we were moving forward from our central town. It wasn't until we got close to them, that we saw that they were using human shields.

"It was a slaughter. Our forces didn't dare attack in-case we harmed the innocents, and in our indecision was our downfall, as the curses rained down on us. We were destroyed, so the wizards left. Only ten survived.

"As the ten crawled home, they discovered the real reason the wizards had drawn them into battle. While the Druids with magic to defend themselves had been lured out to battle, a force of Wizards had descended on the town and slaughtered the defenseless druids left behind. No discrimination was made. Old men lay dead next to new-borns, women and children had been slaughtered in their sleep."

"The worst moment of our history..."

Harry spun around to see Kingsley standing in the doorway. He moved into the room, gripped forearms with a remorseful Dewi and proceeded to produce a chair with a wave of his wand.

He sat down and rested his chin on his hands. He nodded at Harte to continue.

"Not all was lost though. When the survivors crept into the council chambers, they found a glowing dome of light. Inside was the young witch, who had come to them before, and twenty or so children. Only one child was one blessed with magic, and he clung to the witch, pouring his magic into her, so she could keep up the protective spell that encased them.

"We retreated. The young witch promised to keep up the pretense that we had been wiped out, and in return we promised to watch over Wizard-kind, to ensure what had happened to us would not happen to anyone else."

A heavy silence hung over the people in the room.

"Who was the witch?" Neville asked.

"Well it's obvious isn't it?" Said Hermione. "It was Helga Hufflepuff."

Harte beamed at Hermione. "Well done Miss Granger!"

Hermione smiled and blushed with pride. "Well it wasn't hard to figure out. It's the right time frame, and Hufflepuff was famed for her tolerance, an attitude that was nearly unheard of in those days, also she was credited with having the most contact with the Druids ever."

"At least until Merlin came along." Retorted Harte with a smile.

"Yes, but his knowledge was of the Galic tribes, who were far less secretive."

"That's just what he wanted you to think." Harte said with a wink.

There was a loud bang as the door of the ward burst open, revealing Healer Holloway levitating a tray of food.

"If you're all going to ignore my advice and stay awake then you're going to eat some breakfast. Anyone who doesn't finish their food is going to have a sleeping potion forced down their necks!"

With a wave of his wand, the plates on the tray shoot towards Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. A small bowl that looked like it was full of fruit floated towards Professor Harte.

"Nev, Lad. Your Gran is looking for you."

"Thanks, Win." Neville smiled and nodded to everyone, then left.

Harry looked down at the plate of food hovering in front of him, and his stomach growled. Sausage, bacon, grilled tomatoes, baked beans, toast and a pouched egg.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. "Not the healthiest of breakfasts, Baldwin."

Holloway growled a little under his breath as he rolled two over-the-bed trays to Hermione and Ginny. "They're teenagers, Minister. Since when do they need healthy?"

Kingsley snorted and rose from his seat.

"Shall we?" he asked the adults, indicating the curtained bed. Harte, Holloway, Dewi and Kingsley walked towards the bed. Before Kingsley disappeared behind the curtains, he winked at Harry, and muttered "Muffliato".

Let me know what you think!

Added thanks to Jim butcher for inspiring this one.

Jo is God, Jo is life. xx