AN: Alright, here's my next chapter.

Chapter 1: First Contact

Dimension 731, August 23, 1992…

Healer Owen Kane was a man of talent; that no one could refute. Graduating at the top of his class from Hogwarts, he then proceeded to devote himself to the practice of Healing, going as far as to specialize in magical muscle diseases. It was a career few ventured in, and even fewer succeeded in due to the intense training and stress that came with those in the profession. However bad healers may have had it, specialists had it three times worse. Normal healers had to deal with spell damage and curses; a specialist had to deal with shattered bodies, scarred souls, and comatose children as well as their grieving, heartbroken families.

Healer Owen sighed heavily. Speaking of heartbroken families, it's time to break the bad news. He thought grimly. One of the stresses that came with job was seeing others die slowly and being unable to do anything about it. Despite his power and skill, he wasn't God. He could only do so much, but sometimes…sometimes the damage was irreparable.

He stole a glance at one of his unfortunate patients, one Harry James Potter. He had been afflicted with a severe case of Reaper's Mark four year's ago, but due to the lateness of the symptoms appearing, he had only been admitted October of last year. By then, the disease had developed into a serious case. The disease was a parasitic one, leeching off the body. It would continue doing so until the victim was either able to fight off the disease, which became more unlikely as time passed, or died. A week ago, the boy had entered stage three of the disease. The odds did not look good.

There were four stages to the disease. The first stage resulted in leeching off the body's energy slowly until the body's immune system had been weakened sufficiently. This stage was usually undetectable, but easily curable. Stage two caused atrophy of the appendages, causing a victim to become less and less capable of movement until they were permanently constrained to a bed. Stage three was when the convulsions started, usually resulting in coma for most victims, as the disease and a wizard's magical core began fighting for dominance in the body. At this point, no medicine or magic could help, and it became mostly up to a person's will to live to survive. The most one could do was attempt to delay the progress of the disease. Stage four was when the immune system was completely shut down, followed promptly by death. Nobody ever survived stage four.

"Alice, please call in the Potters." Owen instructed. A witch in her twenties nodded to him before doing as she was told. A minute later, she came back with two very concerned parents at her heels.

"Healer Kane how is our son's condition? Is…is he going to make it?" Lily asked worriedly.

Owen frowned. "I'm going to be honest with you Mrs. Potter. Your sons already in stage three, and from what our charts indicate, on the verge of stage four. The odds don't look good. He may very well die within the day." Lily cried out in despair, while James tried to comfort his wife by hugging her.

BEEP! BEEP!

Owen's eyes widened as he heard the danger alarm ringing. Instantly, he sprang into action, waving his wand over the immobile body with rehearsed movements. Moments later, he was joined by two of his apprentices, frantically attempting to stabilize the boy's condition. Another apprentice appeared soon, helping James Potter hold back the distraught mother.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Owen cursed silently as the familiar three note warning reverberated throughout the room. A trickle of sweat rolled down his face as a result of the intense spell casting. In a desperate attempt to prolong the boy's life, he pointed at his patient's forehead, muttering a stasis charm to stop the body's rapid deterioration. Owen kept funneling magic into the charm until he was confident that Harry had been stabilized momentarily.

Releasing a sigh of relief, he took a step back and breathed in deeply while his apprentices watched over the boy in his place. Owen was about to leave him in their capable hands when he felt it happen. His charm had suddenly been broken! Readying himself to renew the charm at the first sign of further deterioration, he gripped his wand tighter in anticipation.

The alarm never sounded.

"I don't understand. By all accounts, he should be in a relapse right now." Owen muttered. "Alice, check the Diagnostic Charm. Jane, check his vitals."

"Healer Kane what's going on?" James asked.

"I'm not sure. Your son's not following the normal pattern of a relapse. I've never seen anything like this." Owen answered honestly, wracking his mind for an explanation to this anomaly.

"Diagnostic Charm is working fine Sir!"

"Vitals are improving. He seems to be recovering!"

"Check his brain for any damage." Owen instructed as he began examining his patient more closely.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Healer. My cerebral functions are fine."

Owen jumped back in surprise. His comatose patient just woke up. What the Bloody Hell is going on. This shouldn't even be possible. "You're awake!" He exclaimed. The shock wasn't only limited to him as his apprentices began whispering amongst themselves. "How do you feel? Do you know where you are?"

Harry smiled weakly. "I feel sore." Tilting his head experimentally to either side, he continued answering. "The walls here are awfully white. I'd wager I'm in St. Mungo's. That's the only place I know of with blindingly white walls."

Owen nodded, writing down some observations on a piece of parchment that magically found its way in his hands. "What's the last thing you remember before waking up?"

Harry frowned. "I…I don't remember."

Now, it was Owen's turn to frown. "Do you know what date it is?" Harry shook his head again. Owen signaled to James and Lily to come closer. "Do you know who these two people are?"

Harry shifted his eyes slightly to examine the newcomers. His eyes widened slightly as he saw them.

"M-m-mum? D-dad?"

Lily hugged him, tears of joy trailing down her face. "Thank goodness you're awake! I thought I'd lost you!" Harry fidgeted, uncomfortable with the sudden display of emotions.

Owen interrupted the reunion. "You must be feeling very tired right now, Harry. Take this potion, it will help you sleep." Seeing him frown, Owen continued. "Don't worry, you're parents will still be here when you wake up. But right now, you need to rest. The more you rest, the faster you'll recover."

Harry hesitated, not wanting to delay getting to know his family. But he realized that the Healer's would just send them away if he didn't comply. Besides, he really y did feel tired. Who knew Dimension Hopping could be so exhausting?

Harry nodded reluctantly to acknowledge the Healer's words, before taking a sip of the potion offered to him and promptly slipping into unconsciousness.

Owen sighed, turning to speak to Lily and James. "His recovery is nothing short of miraculous. I've never heard of any case like this before. By his reactions today, I think he'll be a bit disoriented and forgetful for a couple of weeks."

"How forgetful? Are we talking about amnesia?"

"I'm not sure how serious. He just awoke from a coma and his core had been destabilized for an extended period. Judging from his reactions, I don't he'll forget everything in his life, but he may be fuzzy on details."

"Is there any chance for the disease to come back?" James asked.

Owen shook his head. "It's possible but highly unlikely. His body is already beginning to heal itself even without our aid. As long as he gets sufficient bed rest and doesn't do anything strenuous for the next few weeks, he should be fine."

Now it was Lily's turn to ask a question. "When can he come home with us?"

"He should be stable enough to transport home by next week. However, he'll be in a wheelchair for a long time. The disease did quite a number on him, and his muscle mass has deteriorated to dangerous levels. He needs a lot of nutrition right now, but his digestive system can't handle anything but liquids for a month. Potions should be fine, though. In addition, he needs to come in for regular checkups every week. I would also suggest looking into some Enhancement Treatment to help him recover his ability to walk."

"Enhancement Treatment? I've never heard of that before." James stated.

"I'm not surprised. It's a kind of treatment developed recently. It uses magic to enhance muscles for short periods of time, allowing a crippled person to gain temporary motor function. It speeds up the process of regaining use of muscle groups."

"Are there any risks involved?"

"Not that I am aware of."

James nodded. "Thank you for your time, Healer Kane. We'll look into it."

On the bedside table lay a little back book that lay unnoticed.

Two days later…

"How are you feeling today, Harry?" A healer asked, coming in to the room.

Sitting up on his bed, Harry replied. "I feel a lot better today. In fact, I've improved so much I think you should let me go home."

The Healer looked at him exasperatedly. "We've been over this, Harry. Healer Kane hasn't given you a clear bill of health yet. Until then, you have some visitors." Alice informed him, opening the door to let said visitors enter.

A lean, black-haired boy with green eyes and glasses rushed in. At a closer look, Harry realized that, aside from the glasses, he had an uncanny resemblance with this boy. Following him was a fair-skinned girl with raven hair, and piercing black eyes who walked in strides. Bringing up the rear were Lily and James. It was then, seeing all of them together, that Harry realized the two children were his siblings. According to Flamel's notebook, the girl's name was Anna, while the boy's was Edward.

"How are you holding up in here, bro?" Edward asked, casually plopping himself onto the foot of the bed.

"I feel like I'm going to go blind soon." Edward stared at him questioningly. "The walls are too bloody white!" Harry explained, grinning, which Edward replied to with one of his own.

"Harry, mind your language!" Lily chided, though the corner of her lips quivered upward. It was just too difficult to get mad at someone while they were checked in into a hospital.

"So dad, do you know when they're letting me out of here?" Harry asked.

"The Healer said in a few days" was the reply.

"Care to be a bit more specific?"

"Well, if you promise to behave and get plenty of rest, you should be fit enough by Friday."

"Friday? That's like forever away!"

"It's three days." Anna drawled, finally joining the conversation.

Harry nodded fervently, as if her words vindicated him. "I can't stay here that long. I'll go mad! Or blind!"

"You never know. You could get lucky and go mad and blind." Edward piped in.

"I don't think he needs to stay here any longer for the former to happen, if what he's doing right now is any indication." Anna quipped.

"You're right. Maybe all those potions he's been taking has been speeding up the process?" Edward said.

Harry glared at them, puffing up his chest indignantly. He was about to retort when he was cut off by his mom. "Edward, Anna, stop teasing your brother." Lily said.

Harry smirked triumphantly at his siblings, which promptly vanished with the next few words that left her mouth. "Harry, stop being so dramatic about this. You're in a hospital, and the people here need to rest."

"I'm one of those 'people' that 'need to get rest'." Harry pointed out, hoping it would earn him some sympathy. His hopes were dashed when he heard his mother's response.

"Quite right, we'll see you in three days then. And Harry, Do try to behave." She motioned to the other three Potter visitors to follow. "Come along kids, James." The trio scampered after the redhead.

Cursing his luck, Harry whipped out Flamel's notebook and continued reading where he last left off. He needed to be aware with the differences between this world and his. It would be seriously awkward trying to explain to people who knew him why he didn't know them. Harry wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

Friday…

"Yes!" Harry cried out, pumping his fist into the air, as the Healer who was pushing his wheelchair ignored him. "I'm free! You know Alice, I'm really going to miss you and Healer Kane." Harry said.

"Really?" She asked disbelief evident in her voice.

"Of course," Harry nodded vigorously to emphasize his point, "I mean who else am I going to bother when I'm bored?" He grinned as she scowled at him.

"I hope you realize that you were an utter pain to deal with, Mr. Potter. I think I much preferred you when you were admitted, it was a lot quieter then." She said matter-of-factly. "Now you're starting to make me regret saving your life."

Harry pretended to look hurt. "You wound me with your words, Alice. Don't worry, I know your secret. You really prefer me as I am. After all, how many days do you get to meet incredibly witty – and charming might I add – wizards?"

"That statement is debatable." She muttered. "You do realize, Mr. Potter, that you are currently handicapped. And if you should continue to keep bothering me with your incessant words, I might very well hex you."

"Oh you wouldn't do that to me Alice. I know you like me far too much." Harry answered cheekily. "Besides, aren't you forgetting about the Hypocritic Oath?" He said.

"It's the Hippocratic Oath, you brat."

"Same difference." He said indifferently. She shot him a glare that said "If you don't shut up I will throw you into the fireplace and eat popcorn while I watch you burn". Unfortunately, it did not achieve the desired effect as he grinned lazily at her, seemingly urged on by her evident irritation.

"Thank God we're here." She said, parking the wheelchair by the receptionist's desk.

"Don't worry, Alice. We'll still be seeing each other regularly. My parents signed me up for Enhancement Treatment, and Healer Kane said you'd be overseeing me." He said cheerily. It only served to make the Healer storm off.

Anticipating his release, he looked on curiously, as his dad filled up some forms and handed it to the receptionist. Pushing Harry a distance away, he made him grab onto a piece of rope. Harry noticed his father muttering something and saw the rope glow a strange hue of blue.

His eyes widened as he realized the implication of the two things. God I hate portkeys! Was the last thing he could think of before he was frisked away abruptly and very violently.

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