His heart was failing. As Harry sat, propped up by several feather pillows, he pondered what Madame Pomfrey was telling him.
It seemed to Harry that his mind was as thick and lethargic as treacle as she said those words. It didn't seem real to him somehow. He seemed to be sitting in a dream – more a nightmare.
The sun was bright and harsh in the sterile room. It was mid-morning and the pale, stark furnishings in the room hurt his eyes. The sky was blue outside and the birds could be heard singing in the trees of the forest. It wasn't right in Harry's mind, he's just been told that his body was failing and yet they continued to sing?
In all those days of war he had not once stopped to think, seriously, that he wouldn't see another day. Of course he knew that was always an option but he didn't let himself entertain those thoughts – they didn't do anyone any good. He had had a job to do, he had a task to complete and there was no way he could have finished, if his every thought was tinged with those feelings.
It had only been a year since the war had concluded with an almighty battle at Hogwarts. There was even talk of it being called 'The Great Battle' as it had raged for days and only ended with the final stroke of Harry's wand.
It turned out the trick to ending Voldemort's reign of terror was nothing more than someone finally taking a stand. Remus had explained it to him that, as he and the entire wizarding world had been brought up to believe that Harry would be the one to end it, it was him and only him that could have given Voldemort what he deserved once and for all.
As he sat on the stiff hospital bed, swamped by overly starched sheets, he contemplated the changes the wizarding world had seen since the war. So many people and their families had been devastated by the war. There had been casualty after casualty and many had died. Diagon Alley and the Ministry were left in utter ruin, there was almost nothing left.
It seemed a very bleak future in those early days. Hogwarts had certainly not go away unscathed, the final battle had been fought on its grounds and the inside looked as if it had been gutted. The whole of the wizarding world seemed to have been brought to its knees – Voldemort wasn't even alive anymore and he had succeeded.
Slowly but surely hope grew. There were stories of families being reunited and wizards slowly rebuilding their lives. The world pulled together and strangers became friends in the fight to regain what was lost.
Wizards helped one another to build a new world, and whilst it was certainly not close to completion, there was an air of defiance among witches and wizards alike.
The Ministry grew stronger brick by brick and the witches and wizards went back to homes once abandoned in fear. Diagon Alley gradually filled with the chatter and banter of commuters and shoppers. Taverns filled once more with the raucous laughter of optimism and it seemed that life was going to get better.
Hogwarts was rebuilt for the new school year and those that had missed years were welcomed back. It finally seemed to Harry that the peace he had been promised was descending and life could carry on without a care. Well, until his NEWTs at least.
He was brought back to reality with a thud. Peace was not something for him he realised and carrying on without a care was a wish to far for him.
Madame Pomfrey took his prolonged silence as a cue to fuss about him. She straightened his already angular sheets and took his limp hand in hers. "Harry, dear, say something. I know this is hard to take in but you've got to understand that I am doing my best to help you."
Harry looked towards the stricken witch and he attempted to smile. She seemed to need comfort more than he did. He rationalised that there was little he could do to help himself – he might as well provide her with a small reassurance.
"It's alright Madame Pomfrey. I understand what you're saying. I know that you're trying to help. I'm just finding it difficult to get my head around it." Harry could see she was very concerned and wished he could make her understand that for the time being he could accept that the situation had not fully hit him.
"Harry, I'm afraid there's more to tell you." Her face crinkled with sympathy and she leaned towards him, as if to offer some consolation for the words to follow. Harry felt his heart speed slightly and there was a pulling in his chest. His breath quickened slightly but he fought to control it. The last time he had lost it, the whole situation became a lot worse. His heart began to slow as he took in deep, trembling breaths.
Madame Pomfrey looked even more troubled, if that were possible, and began to fuss again – Harry was anxious to hear what was to come and hurried to put her mind at ease, "Madame…" he drew in a breath, speaking was tiring nowadays it seemed, "I'm okay…really…please tell me."
She looked unconvinced but Harry could tell that she needed to tell him the news. She cleared her throat and looked straight at him, "You're heart Harry, it's failing as I've said. The damage is irreversible I'm afraid and," She made a choking sound as her eyes filled with tears, Harry did not like where this was going, "I'm so very sorry Harry but there's very little we can do to help you. We can make you comfortable and relieve your pain, but there's nothing more that we can do." She squeezed Harry's cold, pale hand.
He sat there prone as the words sunk in. He admitted to himself that he had known all along. Her tone was so telling when she had informed him his heart was failing. A cold, hard acceptance settled in him – so this was the end.
He swallowed against the lump that had made its way into his throat and attempted to speak. He drew in a heavy breath and asked "What will happen to me? Will it… will it hurt?"
He didn't want any more pain, he was sure of that. Harry hoped that that was what the witch had meant about making him comfortable.
She looked deeply into his eyes, and saw the tenuous grip Harry had on the situation. She knew she needed to reassure him that his last months would be pleasant and free of suffering.
"We will be able to make you as comfortable as possible, that means we can stop any pain that you may feel and help you breathe a little better. There are potions and spells that we can use to help relieve the pain in your chest and ease your breathing but there's nothing we can do to reverse the damage to your heart or fix it. I'm so very sorry Harry – truly I am".
She squeezed his hand once more and rose from beside the bed. She recognised that Harry needed some time.
Harry watched Madame Pomfrey leave with weary eyes. He had known it but it did not make the news any more welcome. He could feel his eyes burning with tears and he let them fall – knowing that this was only the first of many tears to come.
It would be easy to say that his mind was reeling from the events but, if he was honest with himself, there was only one thing he could think about now. He had let her down so many times and he would have to again. In the worst way.
He loved her. He knew that it was too soon to say such things out loud but in his heart he knew. He had known it for a long time. The tears were falling faster and his breath was hitching. He rubbed at his eyes desperately trying to stem the flow. It wasn't working.
He didn't want to break her heart. The thought of it was breaking his. He thought of her alone and he hated it. He hated that he would never get to grow old, he would never see his children and he would never be able to take Ginny in his arms make her as his wife.
He had the ring – he had bought it just before the final battle had started.
It was the morning before the final battle and he wanted to get away. Muggle London was oblivious to the turmoil inside their very city and he liked the anonymity, he liked that nobody knew that he would either save or destroy an entire world by the next morning.
He had been walking down a muggle side street when something caught his eye. It was only a small glint in a jeweller's window but it had been enough. There was the ring and in that instant he knew – he would marry Ginny Weasley.
He had gone into the shop and purchased the ring. It had been in his robe pocket the whole time, through the battle, the rebuild and the new school year.
He felt ashamed that he had yet to ask her, but with everything that was happening with the Wizarding world he couldn't bring himself to do it. At least, not until he knew that their future was certain, that he could give her everything she wanted and more.
He knew that he could never do that now.
His thoughts turned to his friends, his family. For that was how he saw them. He sobbed for the loss he would suffer. They were his whole world and sooner, rather than later, he would be ripped from it, to never see them again.
He didn't know what that could be like. He didn't know that he could cope with that thought.
The tears were slowing now. They were being replaced with a hollow acknowledgment that his life was no longer his own. The time he had was borrowed and he was soon to be giving it back. His face and mind felt red raw and he settled back into the sheets. Grief was exhausting.
His thoughts drifted from one thing to another as his eyes began to droop. His limbs were heavy and he felt as if he were sinking into the bed.
As he descended into sleep he had one comfort. As the black of dreams approached he thought of how he would finally get to meet his parents. He would see Sirius again.
At this he began to dream of first meetings and warm embraces.
A/N: Really sorry it's so late – I got a tonne of stuff on and blah, blah, blah… no excuses I've missed this and I'm sorry guys. I can't promise it won't happen again but like I said I've missed it so hopefully not! :D x