Harry's Future, Part 24
"Based on what we observed and learned at the Beauxbaton Academy of Magic the players received a high level of attention, intense training and practices, and some excellent work in the fundamentals and finer points of flying. My thought was that a similar program conducted at the end of summer at Hogwarts would help raise the level of play, perhaps improve the skills of marginal flyers who otherwise wouldn't think they have a chance to play and to improve the talent pool for the professional teams."
Harry concluded his presentation to the Director and staff of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Also in attendance at the Director's invitation were several managers of the more prominent teams of the Premier British Quidditch League. Harry noticed that while all were paying polite attention, no one seemed particularly enthused. The Director was the first to offer a comment.
"One could draw the conclusion that the French need the extra training in order to come up to our current standard, Mr. Potter. They haven't fared particularly well in international play of late."
This was seconded by several members of the audience. So that's the way it's going to be, Harry thought.
"Nor have we for that matter. We haven't been in a World Cup final in some time. The idea wasn't to make this an issue between the UK and the rest, it was to improve the quality of play in this country overall. I thought that would be of interest to you gentlemen. I suspect I was mistaken. I'm sorry to have wasted your time."
"Now, now, Harry," the Director replied quickly. "It's not that we don't appreciate your interest. It's just that there are many factors to consider. Everyone here has spent more then a little time flying above a Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts and for some in the professional leagues. If we thought such a thing was needed it would have been done long ago."
"Ah, I see. Tradition. Old School. I've run up against that a few times and found it very annoying. I'm sorry to see it again. Rest assured, gentlemen, we are going to go ahead with this since its being sanctioned by Hogwarts. We just thought we'd do you the courtesy of giving you the chance to be involved. Good day."
Harry turned and headed for the door to the sound of voices behind him. He was several steps into the hallway when he felt a hand on his shoulder, not a particularly friendly hand either. Harry stopped and without turning said in a low voice,
"I'd really rather you didn't do that."
He felt the hand tighten and then release. He turned to face the wizard who was now standing before him. He was an older man with a badly broken nose. He had a stocky build and a pugnacious attitude that seemed to surround him like an aura. Harry noticed that several other men that he had been addressing were standing just inside the doorway.
"Listen here, Potter. Just what are you going on about here? You think you're just going to walk in here and change the way we've been doing things for centuries? The famous Harry Potter knows all there is to know about Quidditch and he's going to teach us all about it, is he?"
"First of all, whoever you are, I'm finding your attitude to be more then a little annoying. Those of us who are planning on doing this only want to share our knowledge and skills with young flyers looking to improve. What bothers you about that so much?" Harry asked.
"I don't like amateurs mucking about where they don't belong. It's bad enough I have to read the opinions of a bunch of know nothins in the Prophet. I don't need to listen to one telling us how we should be running the sport," the man said belligerently.
"What team are you connected to, sir?" Harry asked very quietly.
Anyone who knew Harry would probably be looking for another place to be just about now.
"The Wasps, what's it to you?"
"I'd just like those working with us and the players we work with to know how much the Wasps support our efforts. I'm sure it should make your recruiting efforts more interesting. And I'm sure your fans will appreciate your efforts to adhere to the grand tradition of the sport. Good day, sir," Harry said and he turned and started walking away.
He could feel a tension rise behind him. He turned his head slightly so he could talk back over his shoulder.
"Whatever you're thinking of doing, I'd think twice. I doubt you're the wizard Voldemort was and we know how that turned out," Harry said.
He continued walking, berating himself for saying something like that but he was concerned that the man from the Wasps would let his temper get the better of him. It was a shame really. The players would have really appreciated having some pros at the camp.
Harry was sitting in his office going over the plans for the camp when he heard a knock on the frame of the doorway. He looked up and saw Hermione standing there.
"Got a minute, Harry?"
"Sure do. In fact, for you I'll make it a few minutes," he said with a grin.
"Well, someone's in a good mood today," she said with a smile as she sat down.
"I guess, although I probably shouldn't be," he replied.
"Why, what's going on?" she asked.
He explained what had occurred at the meeting at Magic Games and Sports earlier. She frowned and shook her head.
"There are still a few of the more hide bound thinkers around here. I guess the Minister doesn't figure it's as much of a problem in a place like Sports. I'm sorry. Is that going to cause a problem with your plans?" she asked.
"Not really. We have the school's backing and that's what's important. That gives us all the facilities we need. I was just hoping with official support the pros would be willing to participate. But like Dad said, we have enough talent on hand to do a good job."
"Too true."
"Now, what brought you down here today? I can't imagine it was Quidditch," Harry said.
"No, in fact it wasn't," she replied. "Since we have the proposals from the Goblins and Centaurs in hand the Director has asked me to come up with something for the house elves. Since they don't seem able to propose something themselves, we need to press ahead on our own. I'd like to ask you to help if you can."
"I don't think that would be a problem, Hermione. Things are ticking away fairly nicely at the moment so I have some time. How would you like to go about it?"
"I thought we could throw around a few ideas right now, then head over to the Cauldron for lunch. Ron said he would meet us there and then we could come back and draft something up that I can show Mr. Grimsson."
Harry noticed that at the mention of Ron, Hermione started to play with her engagement ring. He smiled to himself. The idea of his two best friends being married seemed so right to him.
"That sounds like a plan, especially lunch, I'm already getting hungry," he said.
"I've noticed you've been eating a fair amount lately, Harry, are you ok?"
"I think so, Hermione. I haven't gained any weight. I'm thinking it might have to do with that other thing." Since his door was still open he had to be careful of what he said. "I've only made the change twice but it seems to require a lot of energy. Plus it might have some after effects that's causing me to eat. Charlie said pound for pound they don't eat near as much as we do but there's so many pounds difference it still adds up." Then he shrugged.
"It's still so amazing," she said. "Ok, so let's see what we can do for our little friends."
With that they began tossing around ideas that would provide some opportunities and protections for the house elves should they ever want to change their status as indentured servants. As noon approached they left Harry's office and headed for the lobby and then to the Cauldron. Hannah greeted them enthusiastically and showed them to a table for four when she was told Ron would be joining them shortly. The dining room was pretty busy but she still took a moment to take a seat to chat with her two friends.
"It's great to see you two. How are the plans for the wedding coming, Hermione?" she asked.
"Slowly. Scheduling is a bit of an issue what with Ron's duty rotation and all. Plus the idea of how we deal with my muggle family," she said.
"Harry, couldn't you fix things for Ron?" Hannah asked.
"I could and I would, I mean I'm the best man after all, but they refused to let me. Didn't want me accused of playing favorites. It seems my two best friends are fiercely protective of my reputation," Harry said.
"It's called loyalty, Harry, and I can understand their thinking," Hannah said seriously.
"We'll get it straight. We have some ideas and Mrs. Weasley and my mum are going to meet here early next week to figure something out. I'm really glad that they get on so well," Hermione said, then smiled and rose to greet Ron who was approaching from the back door.
Regardless of his discomfort, Hermione never failed to greet him enthusiastically whenever they met in public. After a few moments they sat down and Ron's rosy complexion began to fade.
"Hello, boss. How are you doing?" Ron said with a smirk.
"Fine, Ron, how are things on the streets?"
"Quiet. Just came off the morning shift up at Hogsmeade. Had the desk duty so it was ok. I stayed warm."
It had been decided after Tom Medford's survey that since Hogsmeade needed the most attention in terms of everyday activity that the Patrollers would have a permanent base set up in an old, tiny storefront. Three Patrollers were assigned per shift with two on the beat and one at the desk in the small office. The assignments rotated on a daily basis.
Harry nodded and smiled. Hannah brought up another subject.
"I have to say, Harry, that your support for Neville's project was very generous. He really appreciates it and so do I. He's so enthusiastic about it. When I think of how he was those first few years, it's amazing."
"He just needed to find his calling, is all, Hannah. I think he grew into himself pretty well," Harry said.
"What project are you backing now, Harry?" Ron asked.
Hannah went on to explain what Neville had been working on and what they needed and hoped to accomplish. Ron and Hermione looked at Harry.
"You keep this up, Harry," Hermione said, "and you'll go down as one of the greatest benefactors of the wizarding world ever."
"Only if someone goes blabbing," he said, mock glaring at her.
"Whatever do you mean?" she said airily, tossing her bushy hair, then giggling.
"Besides, with all the time I've spent in hospital, I'm probably doing myself more of the favor," he replied.
Hannah brought the discussion to a close by asking them what they'd like for lunch and then took their orders to the kitchen. The three friends sat and talked for a while about the issues with the camp and other matters and then another topic surfaced.
"Hey, Harry. Did you know that Angelina has branched out to selling baked goods now?" Ron asked. "I was walking the beat on the Alley last week and I saw the sign in the window. I went in and there was a new display case full of bread, cakes and biscuits. The biscuits were great," Ron finished.
Harry looked at him with those piercing green eyes.
"Don't worry, Chief. I paid for it."
Harry nodded and smiled.
"Angelina said it was your idea," Ron went on.
"Well, not entirely," Harry replied. "I was having a bowl of ice cream and I mentioned that what I missed were the cakes and biscuits we used to get for dessert at times at Hogwarts and wondered why there wasn't a bakery around here. Angelina picked up on that and suggested the idea of selling stuff from her store if she could find someone to supply it. She and Hannah worked a deal. They have a big underused bake oven here so it worked out."
By this time Hannah and another server carried out their orders and Hermione said,
"Hannah, we hear you and Angelina are working together selling baked goods."
"Yes, isn't that brilliant. Harry was asking me where we got our bread and cakes and I told him how we made them here but the oven was a lot bigger then we required. He suggested I talk to Angelina who wanted to sell baked goods but didn't have room to bake them. It's working out really well. We had to hire a baker's helper to keep up," she said with a smile and then hurried over to some newly arrived customers.
"So, you left that part out, did you, mate?" Ron said.
"What does it matter? As long as it works out for everyone, who cares where the ideas come from?" Harry said as he began to attack his lunch.
The conversation quickly turned to the topic of the Quidditch camp again and Ron was commenting what a great idea it was.
"I tell you, mate, if we had something like that when we were there I think it might have made things easier for me. I wish I could help out," Ron said.
"Why can't you?" Harry asked.
"Come on, Harry. With you and Charlie and Ginny there? I'll bet Eleanor will be there. Heck, even Bill can still show them a thing or two. What could I do against talent like that?" Ron said disconsolately.
"You could show them what it takes to overcome a shaky start. You could show them how to overcome nerves and heckling and how to dig down deep and pull out a performance that won Gryffindor a Quidditch cup. That's what."
Ron sat looking at Harry with his eyes wide. Hermione was looking at Ron with fierce pride.
"It's easy to think that just because someone isn't a superstar that they don't have anything to offer. The truth is that nearly all those kids aren't, and never will be, superstars or even stars. They'll just be good competent players, hopefully better for our help, but that they'll play for pride and fun. They'll relate to you far better then they would to me. I keep telling Ginny that she's better equipped to teach Quidditch and flying then I am because of all she had to learn and all the work she had to do to get as good as she is. I'll be there for the ooh and ahh factor but they'll learn from Ginny and you," Harry said, his eyes fixed on his friends face. "I wouldn't even think of doing this without you right there, mate."
Ron sat in silence for a moment and said quietly,
"Thanks, Harry. I'll be there."
"Good. Now, what about dessert? I'm still hungry."
***********
Harry was sitting in his office going over a small stack of reports on the more mundane matters of running a law enforcement agency. He was making some notes in the margins of one such report when there was a respectful knock on the frame of his doorway. He looked up and saw Milligan standing there.
"Yes, Milligan, what can I do for you?" Harry asked.
"I have some information that you might find interesting, sir," the lanky wizard said.
"Come on in and sit down. What have you got?"
"Well, sir, it seems that your recent activities on the continent are paying dividends."
Harry simply looked at his head of investigations and waited for him to go on.
"When the Prophet printed the press release that the Ministry issued we let it circulate around the cells at Azkaban. We've had a dozen of the smugglers come forward wanting to tell everything they know. We don't know if they figure they need to make a deal or whatever conditioning to stay quiet was broken when that old wizard died but we've been getting names, places, dates, different pieces of the overall plan and even the uses of some of the more obscure bits and pieces of the contraband. You'll remember the one that your Ms. Westwood took down when they tried to snatch her. When he heard about what happened he started rambling on in his native language. One of the others told us he was saying the 'demon' got them. We figure he means you."
"Wonderful," was all Harry replied.
"I thought you'd like that," Milligan said with a straight face. "The other thing I wanted to talk to you about was that I've been asked to go to Paris. Minister LeClerq is trying to convene as many of the investigative types from across the continent to go through all this and see if they can wrap it up nice and neatly. At a minimum he hopes to make it more organized. It's been pretty haphazard up till now."
"Go ahead. Put in the request and I'll approve it. Anything else?"
"Only that some of the others were asking about how Ms. Westwood is doing and when she might be coming back around. She made quite an impression on them," Milligan said with a smile.
"Tell them she's doing very well and I'll bring her in when she's back home at end of term."
"Thanks, Chief."
Harry could only smile at the thought of all those crusty Aurors doting on Abagail. He went back to his reports and had them finished in time to go home on schedule.
As the chill of winter gave way to the warmth of spring, Harry found himself very busy. Along with his official duties with the Ministry, Harry was working with his family on the plans for the camp, plus talking with Bill about a new lecture for later in the spring. He was also making regular trips up to Hogwarts to confer with Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall about his animagus issues. He had been given unrestricted access to the library and he was searching for any and all information he could. Although it had been discussed he was unwilling for the time being to take part in any kind of experiment to determine if there was a limit to which his anger could rise before the change would take place spontaneously. The idea of him turning into an enraged dragon again was not one he was ready to entertain.
His appetite didn't seem to be abating much but it wasn't unmanageable. He just didn't leave much in the way of leftovers. Ginny had commented on several occasions that he needed to watch himself. She thought he was looking a little tired. She herself was busy with her Quidditch play. She was nearing the end of her time with the Harpies and she was determined to go out on a high note.
It was late in April and Harry and Ginny had retired for the night, having just returned from a visit to Shell Cottage to see Bill and the very pregnant Fleur. She was due at anytime and hadn't been able to visit as she used to. Harry insisted on keeping his distance since he had been fighting off a case of sniffles and sneezes the last few days.
Sometime in the early morning hours Ginny was roused from her sleep. She was aware that the bed was shaking violently. She rolled over and saw Harry curled up in a ball under the covers shivering uncontrollably. She reached over to touch him to see what the matter was and she pulled her hand back quickly.
"Harry, you're burning up," she said.
"S-s-so c-c-old, f-f-freezing," he stuttered out between chattering teeth.
"Freezing? Harry, you're skin is on fire," she said, and then yelled, "Kreacher!"
The little elf popped into view and asked,
"Yes, Mistress Ginny?"
"Harry is sick. Go to St. Mungo's and get help," she said.
The little house elf did not respond but instantly popped out of sight. Ginny didn't know what to do next. Should she pile on more covers because he felt cold or pull them off because it felt like he was burning up? In a matter of moments she heard hurried footsteps coming up the stairs. She climbed out of the bed and pulled on her robe and went to open the door. As soon as it opened the little wizard that had attended to Harry after his collapse at Hogwarts hustled in to the room with a witch right behind carrying a large valise.
"What do we have here, Mrs. Potter? Your house elf suddenly appeared in our emergency room yelling that Harry Potter was very sick."
"He claims he's freezing but his skin is very hot. I don't know if it's fever, chills or what," she said in a rush.
"Alright, let me see," the healer said.
With the nurse's help they rolled Harry onto his back but he was still pulled up in a ball. The wizard waved his wand and chanted his incantations, listened to Harry's heart and checked his pulse. He took several odd looking instruments from the case and held them near Harry's ears and his nose. He pulled back Harry's eyelids to check his eyes. He pulled back a bit at this but continued on. He said something to the nurse and she pulled out several bottles and vials and asked for some warm water. Kreacher, who was standing in the doorway anxiously, hurried off and returned in moments with a pitcher. The water was poured into a tumbler and the contents of several containers were poured in. The resulting mixture took on a number of odd colors and gave vent to fumes that while not noxious were certainly not appealing.
The healer and nurse got Harry to sit up and coax him to drink the potion. This was made difficult by the chattering of his teeth but eventually that got it all down. To this was added a second potion that looked worse but smelled a great deal better. Lastly, several ointments were applied to his chest, throat and just under his nose.
After a quarter hour or so had passed the violent shaking had subsided to mere trembling and this too was gone within another half hour. Harry was propped up into a semi reclining position with several pillows and an additional comforter was tucked up around him. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully.
"Mrs. Potter, is there someplace where we can talk without disturbing your husband?" the healer asked.
"Yes, we can use Harry's study downstairs," Ginny said, greatly concerned.
"Nurse, please keep an eye on Mr. Potter and call for me if there's any change."
"Yes, Doctor," the witch replied.
Ginny escorted Dr. Elsewhere down to Harry's first floor study. She offered him Harry's favorite chair but he demurred and let her take it while he sat in the one by the desk.
"What's wrong, Doctor? Is it serious?"
"It is, but it could have been much worse if we hadn't caught it in time. Your husband suffered what we refer to as a 'fire storm'. It's a risk all wizards and witches run but more so the more power they possess. It starts with something small like a normal cold or infection. We are after all human, Mrs. Potter and subject to the same illnesses as the muggles. But for us the risk is that if the witch or wizard is run down or further weakened the infection can trigger what you just saw. A fever develops and the body's natural reaction to try and cool itself runs wild and the effect is a massive discharge of energy as heat. The victim feels very cold as the energy dissipates but the surface temperature of the skin goes up. Fortunately, you were here to summon help and I believe he will suffer no ill affect worse then a few days of fatigue."
"What if I wasn't here, Doctor?"
"I can't say for certain, but it has been known to be fatal."
Ginny hugged her robe tighter around herself and stared at the floor. She looked up when the healer coughed.
"If I may, Mrs. Potter, I'd like to ask you something. When I was examining your husband I noticed something odd when I was checking his eyes. I may have been mistaken but I could swear that it appeared his pupils had taken on, how can I say this, a certain verticality. Most unusual."
Ginny was taken back a bit by this but she recovered quickly and her protective instincts kicked in. She looked at the healer and said,
"Harry has been through a lot in his life, Doctor. There are things about him that are, I guess I'd have to say, unique. I can't really tell you anything about what you think you saw unless either Harry agrees to it or it is critical to his condition."
"Well, not knowing I can't say if it is or isn't, but it appears he is responding to the treatment normally so I'd say it's not critical at the moment, so I won't ask you to reveal anything at this time. When Mr. Potter is awake I will put the question to him and he can make the choice," the healer said.
"Thank you for understanding, Doctor," Ginny said, relieved.
"Not at all. So, keep an eye on him. Keep him calm and warm. I'll have a nurse return around noon with another dose of the potions. I'll come out to see him in the evening. I'll take one last look and then we'll be on our way. If anything untoward should occur, just send your house elf."
"Thank you again," Ginny said.
Ginny and the healer went back up to the bedroom and he took a final look at Harry, who was sleeping soundly. The nurse packed up the valise and the two took their leave of Ginny. She pulled a chair over next to the bed and sat down to once more sit a vigil over her husband. After showing the healer and nurse to the door, Kreacher returned and carefully pulled himself up onto the end of the mattress and crouched down to watch Master Harry sleep.
They were still there watching Harry as the sun began to shine through the window. Ginny looked at Kreacher and said,
"Kreacher, would you please go to the Burrow and ask my mum to come here."
"Certainly, Mistress Ginny," Kreacher said, then hopped off the bed and popped out of sight.
It was perhaps fifteen minutes later that Ginny heard Kreacher open the front door and welcome Molly Weasley to the house.
"Ginny?" she called from downstairs.
Ginny ran to the top of the stairs and waved her mother up. Mrs. Weasley hurried up the stairs and after a quick hug they entered the bedroom.
"What is it, dear? Kreacher wasn't very specific, he just said that Master Harry was sick and you asked me to come."
"Dr. Elsewhere said Harry had suffered a 'firestorm'."
Mrs. Weasley let out a sound of dismay and shook her head as she felt Harry's forehead with her hand.
"You've heard of it, Mum?"
"Yes, dear. When your father and I were up at Hogwarts a professor nearly died of it. Seems he caught the flu and he was in the hospital ward when it struck. Fortunately the Healer at the time, this was before Madame Pomfrey, knew what to do. The poor man was bedridden for a week. If I remember correctly, the stronger a wizard is the more dangerous it can be," Molly Weasley finished.
"That's what Dr. Elsewhere said. I couldn't believe how hard he was shivering, Mum. It shook the whole bed and woke me up. There's something else, Mum. When the healer was examining Harry, he noticed something odd about his eyes. He said he thought the pupils looked funny, like a cat…or a dragon. I didn't tell him anything other than that Harry had some unique issues and he might choose to talk about it with him after Harry was awake."
Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue and shook her head.
"Will the poor boy ever know any peace? As for you, young lady, get yourself some sleep. Kreacher can bring me some tea and I'll sit with, Harry. Give him a kiss and off you go."
"Yes, Mum. Thanks," Ginny said.
She walked over to the bedside and leaned down to kiss Harry's forehead. While he felt warmer than usual his skin didn't feel feverish. She then kissed her mother and left to find the guest bedroom for a nap. She was due at Holyhead at one in the afternoon and needed to get some sleep. Shorty after Ginny left Kreacher returned with Mrs. Weasley's tea and then resumed his watch from the end of the mattress.
It was late in the morning when Harry began to stir and after a few more moments his eyes opened and he looked around a bit bewildered. He squinted at the end of the bed and said,
"Kreacher?"
"Yes, Master Harry."
Harry then looked around and saw the familiar outline and he groaned.
"Well, Harry, I can't say as I like the sound of that greeting," Molly Weasley said.
"I'm sorry, Mum. I'm always glad to see you. I just wish it didn't happen so often that I see you while I'm flat on my back in bed. What happened?" Harry asked.
"You don't remember, dear?"
"It's kind of fuzzy, Mum. I seem to recall being hot and cold at the same time and some voices but not much else," he replied.
"You had what the healers call a 'firestorm', Harry. It's a reaction magical folk can have to a normal cold or other kind of sickness. You get a fever and then your body tries to get rid of the extra heat and things get out of control and you wind up trying get rid of all your energy, magical as well. You can quite literally drain yourself. You've had that cold for a few days now and with all the running around you've been doing it left you wide open."
"Well that would explain why I feel like I've been wrung out and hung up to dry. Where's Ginny? Is she okay?"
"Yes, dear, she's sleeping down the hall. She sat up with you since early this morning. She'll be in to see you before she leaves for Holyhead," Mrs. Weasley said.
"Boy, she must be getting pretty tired of this by now."
"I wouldn't let her hear you say that if I were you, my dear. She's liable to bite your head right off."
Harry smirked a bit and then said,
"Kreacher, would you please get me something to write with and on. I need to send a couple of notes."
"Yes, Master Harry."
"Just bring those things to me, Kreacher. I will write the notes and Harry can sign them," she said sternly.
Kreacher looked to Harry and when Harry nodded he looked back at Mrs. Weasley and said,
"It will be as Master Harry's mum says."
He then hopped down and walked out of the room. Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry with her eyebrows raised and he just shrugged and smiled back. Kreacher returned with a small lap desk that held parchment, an ink bottle and quill. Mrs. Weasley arranged it and indicated Harry could start dictating. The first message was to Director Grimsson to inform him of the illness and his absence from the office, again. The next message was to Professor McGonagall to postpone his meeting with her tomorrow where they were intended to continue their discussion about his being an animagus. The last was to Gringotts instructing them to transfer an additional one hundred Galleons to the account that was being used to support Neville's work. When Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry questioningly he responded,
"If things like this are going to continue to happen to me I better do all I can to support magical medical research," he said straight faced.
Mrs. Weasley could only laugh and then help hold the lap desk so Harry could sign the messages. Kreacher took them. The one for Hogwarts would go by owl and Kreacher would deliver the other two himself. Just after the little elf left the room, Ginny came in.
"Oh, it's so good to see you awake, sweetheart. You really gave me a turn this morning."
"Sorry about that. From what Mum says I haven't been taking good enough care of myself," Harry replied.
"Don't go beating yourself up about it, Harry. We'll wait until you're well and then I'll do it for you. You just rest and when the nurse gets here, you take your medicine. I've got to get ready, I'll see you before I leave," she said and then kissed his forehead.
Harry looked at his mother and said,
"Any word on Fleur?"
"Nothing yet, Harry. It should be any day now. Let's see, it's the last day of April so we're right there."
They talked about small things for a little while and then they heard the front door knocker. A few moments later a middle aged witch in a St. Mungo's nurse's robe appeared at the door.
"Mr. Potter? I'm here with your potions as prescribed by Dr. Elsewhere," she said a bit tenuously.
"Yes, ma'am. We've been expecting you. This is Mrs. Weasley."
"Hello," Mrs. Weasley said. "Let me get out of your way. Harry, I'll see to a little something for lunch, shall I?"
"Yes, thanks, I am a bit hungry. Unless the potions will change that," Harry said, looking to the nurse.
"It's possible but not likely, Mr. Potter," the nurse said as she opened the case she was carrying and removed two sealed beakers and two tubes of ointment.
She opened one beaker and offered it to Harry. It was the less appealing of the two but he managed to gulp it down. It was nowhere near as bad as Skele-grow potion. The second potion went down a little bit easier but not by much. She then showed him how to apply the ointments which were to be used until the tubes were empty. By the time Mrs. Weasley returned with Kreacher in tow, the nurse had packed up and was prepared to leave.
"He's all set, Mrs. Weasley. Doctor Elsewhere will be out this evening right after he reports for the night shift. I'll be leaving now."
"Thank you, nurse. We appreciate your efforts."
"Not at all, ma'am. Good bye, Mr. Potter," she said and then left.
"She seemed a bit edgy, don't you think?" Harry said.
"I guess she's just not used to being around a celebrity, Harry," his mum said.
Harry just snorted and shifted himself so he could get at the tray of food Mrs. Weasley had set down on the nightstand.
"Well, you can't be too sick if your appetite is any indication," she said with a smile.
Harry just shrugged as he started to eat. After he had finished eating he nodded off again until nearly sunset. When he woke up he heard a muted conversation in the corridor.
"Um, hello out there," he said.
"Oh, Harry dear, I was just talking to Arthur."
"Hello, son. How are you feeling?" Mr. Weasley asked as he stepped into the room.
"Not too bad. Kind of wrung out but certainly not as bad as the other times," Harry said with an odd tone in his voice.
"What's the problem, son? You're using that voice again," Mr. Weasley said.
"What voice would that be, Dad?"
"The 'frustrated Harry' voice," Mr. Weasley said with a small smile.
"I guess I'm tired of waking up in a sick bed on a fairly regular basis. The novelty wears off after the third or fourth time," Harry said.
"I can understand how you feel, Harry," his 'dad' said. "I can't offer you any sage words to make you feel better about it. Sometimes we just have to accept that things happen. You may want to consider however that although you've been knocked around a bit more then most you've also been given more then most. Maybe if you just looked at it as a balance it might make it easier to accept."
"Maybe. Although at times like this I'd be willing to accept less on both sides of the balance. In fact, there are times I think maybe it wouldn't have been so bad to have stayed a muggle," Harry said, his voiced tired.
"Harry, you don't really mean that do you?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Probably not and I guess it sounds like I'm feeling sorry for myself but it gets to be a bit much after a while," he said, taking a deep breath. "So, any word about the mother to be?"
"Just a twinge here and there," Mrs. Weasley said. "I understand our dear Fleur is being decidedly grumpy about the whole thing. The serenity of impending motherhood began to wear off around the seventh month. It seems the beauty of the veela has a darker side."
"I'm sure once the baby's born that will end. Or at least when she gets her figure back," Harry said with a grin.
"I think your right, Harry. That will help a great deal," his 'mum' said.
"So, Harry. Do you mind if I stay for dinner?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"No, Dad, that would be great. I don't think I can get out of bed though. Dr. Elsewhere will be here in a while and it might be good to have you around. Just a minute," Harry said. "Kreacher, can I see you, please?"
A moment later the little elf hurried into the room.
"Yes, Master Harry, how may Kreacher be of service?"
"Kreacher, can you arrange it so we can eat dinner in here? Mum and Dad would like to stay for a while."
"Of course, Master Harry. Kreacher will arrange it momentarily."
"Thanks, Kreacher."
Mr. Weasley brought in another chair from down the hall and he and his wife sat down next to the bed.
"Anything happen at work that I should be aware of, Dad?" Harry asked.
"Your falling ill stirred things up a bit. Grimsson stopped by to suggest he'd be by tomorrow if it looked like you'd be laid up for more then a few days. I also understand that there is a growing debate going on in Games and Sports over your training camp initiative. It seems that a schism of sorts had been brewing for a while between the old guard and the younger staffers. Word of mouth is spreading around the teams as well. You may have more help then you think," Mr. Weasley said with a smile.
"The help would be great but I can imagine that I'm going to be hearing a lot of griping from the 'old guard'," Harry said.
"Change rarely comes without a price, Harry. You should know that better then just about anyone," Mrs. Weasley said.
Harry just nodded. Kreacher came into the room carrying two wooden folding tables that he placed by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's chairs.
"Where did they come from, Kreacher? I don't recall them," Harry asked.
"The late Mistress Black rarely ate meals at the table, Master Harry. Mistress Black used these tables to eat in her room," Kreacher said.
Mrs. Weasley looked hers over carefully and nodded. Kreacher left the room and returned a few minutes later with a lap table that he placed over Harry's lap as he lay propped up in the bed. On his next trip he had three laden trays floating in front of him and with subtle movements of his fingers directed them to land on each of the portable tables. The meal looked and smelled terrific and Harry attacked it with gusto. There wasn't much discussion during the meal and by the time the knock on the front door suggested the healer had returned they were done and the trays and tables were cleared away. They could hear footsteps coming from the staircase and when the short wizard appeared in the doorway he was greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
"Ah, sir, madam. How nice to see you here. I've come to see how the young man is doing. I suspect he's filled you in on what has occurred. If I may?"
"Of course, Doctor Elsewhere. We'll just step out in the corridor and give you some privacy," Mrs. Weasley said.
"Thank you," the healer said as he turned to Harry. "So, how are you feeling this evening?"
"Better then this morning. Tired but otherwise alright. I've been eating pretty well too, so I guess that's a good sign," Harry said.
"It is indeed, young man. You used up a fair amount of energy during the 'firestorm' episode. Eating and rest is what you need to set it to rights. Now, just let me have a look," the healer said as he took out his wand and began to move it over Harry while he mumbled incantations.
Next he checked Harry's pulse and listened to his heart and repeated the checks of his ears and nose and eyes. Especially the eyes. He stepped back and looked at Harry.
"Well, young man, I'd have to say you are well on your way to recovery. Certainly the worst is past and you just need a few more days rest and steady meals and you'll be fine," the wizard said.
He then looked at the ceiling for a moment and then back at Harry. He squinted and pursed his lips and said,
"Harry. It may be none of my business but when I was here earlier I noticed something odd when I was examining you."
"What was that, sir?" Harry asked anxiously.
"It was your eyes, Harry. I pulled your eyelids back and it appeared that your pupils were elongated, vertically, like a cat. Is there something I should be aware of as your doctor?"
Harry looked at the small wizard who had been there for Harry on several occasions and he wondered if he should tell him. He was aware of the idea of doctor-patient confidentiality but how far did that go? He decided.
"No, sir, not at the moment."
The healer nodded.
"Alright, Harry. It's your choice and I respect that. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. One more full day of bed rest and two days after that of rest at home, but nothing more strenuous then sitting up and reading. Make sure you eat well, all three meals a day. If you have any further concerns come see us," the healer said as he offered Harry his hand and then left the room.
Molly and Arthur Weasley re-entered the room and took their seats again. Harry looked over at them and asked,
"Could you hear?"
"No, dear. We moved down the hall far enough to allow you your privacy," Mr. Weasley said.
"Apparently during the firestorm episode my eyes started to look like a dragon's. I didn't say anything about me being an animagus. Did you know anything about that?"
"I did, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said. "He had discussed it with Ginny but she kept your secret. She told me about it when I first arrived. What else did the Doctor Elsewhere say? How are you progressing?"
"Tomorrow is another day of bed rest and then two days under house arrest but I can be up and reading or something like that," Harry said.
"House arrest, Harry? Is that what Dr. Elsewhere said?" Mr. Weasley asked incredulously.
"No, but that's what it feels like. I hate being stuck here like this. If it's not one thing it's another. I'm certainly not going to win any awards at the Ministry for attendance," he said, his tone full of the annoyance he was feeling.
"Come on, Harry. It hasn't been that bad. You did lose a fair amount of time after the dragon incident but if I recall correctly you've only missed the few days after you came back from Europe and now this. All the other times have been on official business to Hogwarts and the like. Its not much compared to some of the others at the Ministry that I know, they spend most of their time out of the office. Don't let it concern you, son. Just relax and get well," his 'dad' said.
"Yes, sir. I just get this feeling trouble is brewing," Harry said.
"Have you heard something, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley said.
"No, sir. Just a feeling," Harry said.
"Well, your feelings have a pretty good track record. I'll keep my eyes and ears open," Mr. Weasley said.
They heard voices in the corridor downstairs and in a moment Ginny was hurrying into the room.
Hi, Mum, Dad. Harry, how are you doing, sweetheart? Was the healer here already?" she said in a rush.
"I'm feeling better, but still kind of tired. Yes, Doctor Elswhere was here and he said I was doing ok and I need some rest over the next few days. He mentioned about the eyes but I told him I didn't have anything to tell him at this point."
"If you're sure that's how you want to handle it, Harry. I'm going to go down and see if Kreacher has anything left for dinner and then I'll be right back," Ginny said and then hurried out of the door.
Harry watched her leave and then took off his glasses and rubbed his face with both hands and then leaned back into the pillows. He stared up at the ceiling and then blew out a long slow breath. He then looked over at his 'parents' and gave one of his crooked smiles.
"Dad, would you do me a favor when you go in tomorrow? Would you ask Maxwell and Milligan to come out day after tomorrow? At least I'll be able to get some work in. Milligan came back from Paris with a lot of information that we've been trying to correlate with what we've found locally. I thought it was complex before but now…" he trailed off and shrugged.
"Sure, Harry. I'd be happy to," Mr. Weasley said.
"And If you could suggest to the Director he doesn't really need to bother coming out here, I'll be back in by Monday."
Mr. Weasley just nodded. Ginny came back with a tray and the lap table that Harry had used. She placed it on the bed and carefully climbed up to sit cross legged facing Harry. Mrs. Weasley nudged her husband and said,
"Well, now that you're here, Ginny, your father and I will head for home. Harry dear, I'll stop by around lunchtime tomorrow to see how you're getting on, alright?"
"Ok, Mum," Ginny replied.
"Thanks, Mum," Harry said almost at the same time.
"So long, son, I'll make sure your message gets to Maxwell and Milligan."
"Thanks, Dad."
Harry watched them leave and then heard Kreacher open and then close the door for them. He looked over at his wife and then reached for his glasses and put them on. He smiled and said,
"Ah, that's better. I prefer to see you without all the fuzzy outlines."
"Oh, dear," Ginny replied. "I thought I was years away from becoming fuzzy around the edges."
They both laughed and as Ginny ate they shared some small talk about how things were going with the Harpies. Several unfortunate injuries among the principle players were challenging Ms. Hapnafl as she had to make due with reserves. Ginny's impending retirement wasn't making things any easier. She was receiving some favorable feedback from her articles. Harry wondered what the man from the Wasps would have to say about an actual flyer of some fame contributing to the 'know nothins' at the Prophet. Ginny finished her meal and at Kreacher's insistence placed the table and tray out into the corridor for the little elf to retrieve. She got ready for bed and climbed in next to Harry and they wrapped each other in hugs and settled into the pile of cushions behind Harry. They chatted quietly for a while until Harry slipped off to sleep. Ginny listened to his steady breathing for a time and allowed it to lull her to sleep as well.
When Harry awoke the next morning he could feel the warm and welcome weight of Ginny pressed up against his side. He recalled that he was supposed to spend the day in bed again and at the moment that wasn't something he was going to argue with. While his mind was awake his body still felt like it wanted to sleep for another week. Harry decided he'd have a serious talk with Dr. Elsewhere about improving the general condition of his health and fitness. He was coming to believe that he was proving a far too frail vessel for the amount of magical talent and energy he was being required to contain. He looked over and down at Ginny and even without his glasses he could see she was still fast asleep. Yesterday had been every bit as tiring for her as it had been for him.
He took the opportunity to run through a mental list of things that were going on and who he had helping him with what. Contrary to his initial misgivings about the need for an assistant, Tom was proving to be a vital part of his team and he needed to make the necessary arrangements to make the transfer permanent. He would also be getting an intern around mid summer and he was thinking that he would assign him or her to act as Maxwell's assistant, at least on a part time basis. He needed to talk to Muntab about her ideas about training up those Patrollers that looked promising. He thought it might be a good idea to talk to the Director of Testing to see how they might address those who hadn't gone for their NEWTs. The elderly witch and her team had done an excellent job with the initial tryout and seemed happy to be of help. Hopefully she'd be as helpful this time around.
Another proposal involving the international community had been brought back by Milligan from Paris. It had been suggested that a conference of the heads of magical law enforcement from all across Europe be convened during the summer to begin the task of crafting a framework for more coordinated cooperation. The ongoing investigation had highlighted the holes that existed and how well they had been exploited. It had been suggested that Harry be one of the featured presenters with the subject being his reorganization of the Aurors and the Office of Magical Law Enforcement.
Then of course there were his commitments to Hogwarts to include the aforementioned interns, his lectures and the camp. The last was rapidly picking up steam. Bill and Charlie were proving to be a huge help. Bill was talking it up at Hogwarts and there was a lot of interest. Charlie was diving head first into the planning of the training days, how to divide up the players, who would teach what group and all manner of details. It seems that just below the surface there was a Quidditch coach straining to get out and once the opportunity presented itself there was no holding him back. Harry was hoping he would start to hear from those professionals that his father had mentioned and see how they could be folded into the program.
An idea began to form in the back of Harry's mind and it waved its arms and jumped up and down to try and attract his attention. Harry closed his eyes and tried to calm his thinking to let this fragile, forming thought make its way forward. When it managed to force its way to the front of his mind it was quite startling. It was dawning on Harry that perhaps he didn't have to do all these things himself. Perhaps it was sufficient that he act as a catalyst. That odd little bit of whatever that caused things to happen without being changed by the reaction. Maybe it was enough that he give rise to an idea and let others move it along to fruition. Surely it wasn't necessary for him to make sure that Neville and Professor Sprout get their project completed. He merely needed to take an interest and provide some financial and moral support and then watch as they brought it about.
He and Ginny brought the idea of the Quidditch camp back from Beauxbaton but he didn't necessarily have to be the one to do all the work. He had his brothers, the staff at Hogwarts and perhaps those pros that liked the idea to do most of the actual work. All in all it was a very intriguing notion and one that he dwelled on for some time. He was still at it when he felt movement at his side. He looked down and could tell that Ginny had shifted around so that she was facing him. He reached to his bed stand and found his glasses and put them on.
Now he could see those beautiful brown eyes looking up at him.
"Good morning, love. How did you sleep?" he asked.
"Hey, that was supposed to be my line. You're the one who's sick, remember?" she said with a grin.
"In that case, I'm feeling pretty good, although another day in bed doesn't sound so bad. What about you then?"
"I slept like a log. I'll be leaving after breakfast but at least I can make sure you eat well before I do," Ginny said.
"Love, I haven't stinted on a meal since the night I went dragon," Harry said with a grin. "I wonder if this is like Bill with the rare meat. That was his only lasting effect of the werewolf attack besides the scars. Could be trouble with the grocery bill."
"You can be so silly, sometimes. Have you been awake long?"
"Not too long. I did have the chance to think for a while," he said.
"About what?"
"Mostly about things going on, what I have to do once I get out of this bed. Something started to occur to me though," he replied. "I was thinking about all these things and who was doing what and I realized that I didn't have to do all of it myself. That it was ok to come up with an idea or start a project and have other people do a lot of the work. It's not even like I have to make them do it. Bill and Charlie are so enthusiastic about the Quidditch camp I couldn't keep them away from it if I tried. Tom Medford works twelve hour days and he loves it," he concluded looking at her.
She sat up in bed and looked at Harry with a funny smile on her face.
"Well, I'll be darned. I've witnessed a true breakthrough. You've finally seen what everyone has been seeing for years, Harry. You've talked and talked about team work and you've constantly given credit to others who were there when all those important things happened and now it looks like you finally understand that they are eager to help you with the things you've had to do. Now you can look at things and say, 'Hey, I have an idea, I wonder who I can get to help me with it' instead of 'oh, something else I have to do'."
Ginny's eyes were bright as was her smile and then she leaned in and wrapped Harry in a hug and gave him one of those long lingering kisses that he loved so much. It was some time before they called for Kreacher about breakfast.
It was late in the morning and Harry was lying propped up against his pillows reading one of the books that he had found dealing with animagic. He heard the door knocker and Kreacher greeting whoever it was. Harry suspected, correctly, that is was his 'mum'. He was watching the door as she appeared.
"Harry, dear. How are you feeling this morning?"
"Pretty good, Mum. Still a little fatigued but better then yesterday. I had a good breakfast and now I'm just resting and reading."
"That's wonderful, dear," she said as she sat down in the chair next to the bed. "I have something for you. Charlie and Bill sent a draft of the schedule and plan for the camp. Charlie was at the house last night and when we got home he talked some things over with your father. He and Bill had worked out some details earlier out at Shell Cottage. Those two are like boys again. I don't think they realized how much they missed playing Quidditch."
"Speaking of Shell Cottage, what's the word on Fleur? It's the first of May. She has to be ready by now," Harry said anxiously.
"I dare say she is, Harry. When we saw Charlie he said it looked like it was very close. I'm going to head out there after I'm done here. I'll stay until the baby is born. I hope you won't mind me not coming the next few days."
"Of course not, Mum. You spend more then enough time keeping an eye on me. Fleur needs you now. I just wish I could go with you," he said earnestly.
"Harry, dear. I know that you've been through some pretty harrowing times in your life and you're braver then whole armies, but I don't think you really want to be in that house when Fleur goes into labor."
They looked at each other and laughed. They talked for a while longer about various things and at noon Kreacher began setting the room up for lunch. By one o'clock Mrs. Weasley was satisfied that Harry was eating well and had kissed his forehead and told him she'd be back when she was done at Shell Cottage. Harry knew that Fleur was in good hands. He felt a little twinge of sadness at the idea that as a true mother his silver blonde guardian angel wouldn't be able to watch over him so much. On the other hand, he was delighted that her mothering instincts would be put to the use that they were truly intended.
The following morning Harry was happy to be able to join Ginny at the kitchen table for breakfast. He moved slowly as he walked through the house but he didn't feel too bad overall. He dressed himself in casual clothes and sat in his well cushioned chair in the study waiting for Maxwell and Milligan to join him. Just as the clock struck nine he heard the knocker at the front door. In a few moments Kreacher escorted the two older wizards into the room.
"Come on in. Kreacher, would you bring another chair in, please?"
"Certainly, Master Harry."
As the senior, Maxwell took the one chair and Milligan waited until Kreacher floated an extra into the room. Once Kreacher had left and Milligan was seated they began their meeting.
"So, any wild rumors running rampant through the Ministry about my being sick?" Harry asked with a crooked grin.
Maxwell and Milligan looked at each other and the senior Auror nodded. Milligan pulled out a copy of the Prophet and handed it across to Harry. Harry took it with raised eyebrows and unfolded the paper and his eyebrows went even higher when he saw the headline which read,
Harry Potter Near Death
Below the headline was an article that seemed based mostly on the assertions of informed ministry personnel that Harry's latest episode had him hovering on the brink of death. It also speculated that Harry's continued fragile health, first evidenced by his collapse shortly after the defeat of Voldemort was being hushed up by officials of both the Ministry and St. Mungo's. There were reports, the article continued, that emergency personnel were dispatched from the hospital to the undisclosed location of Harry's London home the night before last to find him critically ill. Harry looked at the masthead for the paper and noticed that there was a new editor. He looked at Milligan and Maxwell and said,
"So, I guess the honeymoon is over. It took longer then I thought it would but I guess it had to happen sooner or later. It should make for an interesting homecoming when Ginny arrives later tonight. You think I have a temper. I'll make sure I take a turn around Diagon Alley on Monday and let people see I'm still alive. Anything of any real importance going on?"
They spent the next hour going over the business of the department. When they were done Harry walked them to the door and thanked them for coming out. He went back to the study and took another glance at the Prophet and then tossed it into the trash. He picked up his book and read until lunch.
Much as Harry had predicted, shortly after sunset the Black house was graced with a demonstration of temper as art. Ginny stormed past Kreacher who had opened the door for her with a copy of the Prophet gripped tightly in her hand. She walked into the study and stood in front of Harry waving the paper, her eyes in a tight squint and her brows pulled down.
"Have you seen this, Harry?" she said in a low, dangerous voice.
"Yes, I have, dear," he said calmly, pointing to the rubbish bin where the offending edition resided.
"What are you going to do about it?" she demanded, her voice climbing
"I'll ignore it, officially. Unofficially, on Monday I'll take a turn around Diagon Alley, stop into a couple of the shops and have lunch at the Cauldron. If anyone asks, I'll tell them I wasn't feeling well this past week but it was just a bad cold. Later in the week I'll head up to Hogsmeade and stop in at the school. Perhaps at some point I'll visit the Prophet and have a chat with the new editor," Harry finished up, matter-of-factly.
"Well, I already had a little chat with the editor before I came home. I told him he could take his job on the sports page and stick it somewhere that wouldn't make it into print. I also told him the next time he wanted to print something about you he could damn well come out here and check the facts for himself."
"But, Ginny. You were really looking forward to that job. People really seemed to like it."
"Harry, how could you think that I would continue to write for a rag that's going to start that nonsense again? There are other publications that I can write for. Or maybe I'll just concentrate on starting our family. But if those idiots are going to start up with the nonsense you had to put up with in the past, I'll have nothing to do with them."
Harry stood up and walked up to his wife. He wrapped her in a hug and rested his cheek on top of her head. He loved the smell of her hair. He could feel the tension start to flow out of her. The stayed that way until Kreacher announced it was time for dinner. Hand-in-hand they walked into the kitchen to eat. Harry knew that whatever the Prophet had in mind for him it wasn't going to affect him as it had in the past. That Ginny might take it into her mind to take the Prophet's office apart brick by brick concerned him, but only just a little.