Third submission for the Daily Prophet Comp!

Word Count: 1598

TW! Main Character death, emotions, hospital setting. Nothing super graphic, but it is there.

Prompt: Anapneo – [dialogue] "I don't want to scare you."

"What do you mean?" Daphne asked her teacher, slipping on her gloves. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I am." The man said, rolling his eyes. "Harry Potter is in room seven, waiting for a doctor. I want you to take the case."

"Sir, while this is wonderful, and I truly mean wonderful, I've only been a full fledged doctor for a few months!"

"Don't play the coy princess act, Greengrass." Her teacher said, "You've been overshadowing my cases since you got here. You deserve a chance to be let out on your own."

"Sir-"

"Daphne," her teacher slowly took off his glasses, turning to her. "Don't be nervous. Or coy, or whatever it is you're feeling. You're a kickass doctor, kid. Now go in there and fix our saviour."

Daphne nodded, slipping on her doctor's coat and badge before heading out. She could do this. As long as she didn't let Harry Potter die, she'd be fine. Right?

"Mr Potter?" Daphne knocked on the hospital door. Potter laid in his hospital bed, arms restrained. His body convulsed slightly.

"Hey, Doc." He said in between pants. "Glad they sent me a pretty doctor before I kick the bucket."

His body thrashed hard against the bed, a string of curses leaving his mouth.

"How exactly did this happen?" Daphne muttered, mostly to herself as she rushed over to Potter's side.

"J-just give me a few minutES!" His body thrashed again, his arm tearing through the magical restraints keeping him on the bed. Daphne gasped, leaning over him to keep his arm still as he thrashed.

Potter was right, after a few minutes, his body went deathly still. Daphne's head turned worriedly.

"Alright, I'm okay, sorry that was the first thing you saw when you walked in. I'm Harry, by the way."

"I-I know, Mr Potter." Daphne said, slowly relaxing as she stood up from the hospital bed. "I have your papers."

"Er, right. But uh, just call me Harry, please?"

"Oh, uh, sure. Harry it is." Harry sighed, giving her a rueful smile. Daphne picked up her clipboard, looking it over before asking Harry the standard questions.

"How exactly did this start?"

"Well, you see, funny story actually-"

"Mr- Harry I'm gonna need cooperation with these questions."

"Right." Harry sighed. "This won't be shared, right?"

"No, doctor patient confidentiality exists in the wizarding world too."

"In the auror corps, there is a special branch called 'Night Watchers'. Basically our job is the night shift version of the regular aurors, but we look for crime in the more…decrepit places of the wizarding world. There was a chase that lead into the muggle world and.."

"Harry?" Daphne asked as Harry slowly stood up from the bed.

"I don't want to scare you." Harry told her.

"I'm a doctor, Harry. Nothing can scare me." Harry took a shaky breath in and began to take his shirt off. Daphne couldn't hold in her gasp if she tried.

Across his entire back, a blue…something had attached itself to Harry's back. It pulsed slightly. Tendrils reached over his shoulders, digging in. It looked painful.

Well no shit, Daphne thought to herself. That's why he's here.

"How did this appear?"

"The woman threw a potion at me at the exact same time I casted a spell at her. Then a puddle of it appeared on the ground. I went to look at it while one of my colleagues caught up to her."

"And it latched onto your back?" Daphne asked, writing on her clipboard.

"Kind of? It climbed up my arm first, like a bowtruckle. Then it settled into my back and just…bit down?"

"Is that a question?" Harry shrugged, wincing slightly. Daphne watched, almost transfixed, as the blue blob stuck to Harry's back pulsed against him. He took a breath to continue, but suddenly started choking. With a quick wave of wand, Daphne casted a quiet Anapneo and Harry's airways cleared.

"Thanks, I started choking on my own spit there. I don't really know how to describe it. It's pretty confusing to me and I'm the person it's affecting!" Harry slipped his shirt back on, turning around to phase his doctor. "It tries to leave every now and then. It makes my body crazy. I thrash and break things. Sometimes magic comes out of my finger tips. I can't control it, and never know when it's gonna hit. The fits only last a few minutes at most though."

"Is that why you were restrained?"

"Yeah, they keep me from hurting myself. But they don't always stick." Harry gestured to the broken bed. Daphne rubbed at her temples.

"I can tell. Alright Harry, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to move you up to the Spell-based injury ward-"

"Not Janus Thickey, right?" Harry asked, suddenly quiet.

"No, of course not. We'll figure this out." Daphne told him with confidence.

Except, it had been four months since then, and Harry was still in the hospital. Worse, he was deteriorating.

Gone was the tan, muscled man that had walked himself into Saint Mungos. Now he was thin, weak, and pale. Barely enough strength to get himself out of his restraints. They rarely had to use them anymore.

"Daphne," Harry muttered, opening his eyes from his third nap of the day. He had been sleeping a lot. It worried Daphne. Besides his worsening body, his personality had mostly stayed intact. He had constantly flirted with Daphne, talked to his friends, and wrote thank you mail. Now, all he did was sleep. "Daphne, I need you."

"I'm here, Harry." Daphne whispered, sitting on the edge of his bed. She brushed a gloved hand through his hair. It was thinning.

"I'm not gonna make it through the week."

"Don't say that, Harry. You know if you speak it into existence-"

"Daphne, I'm hurting. I don't want to do this any longer." He leaned his head into her hand. "I just want to sleep forever."

"Then sleep, Harry, just not forever. Lunch is in an hour, alright? I'll wake you up then."

"Alright," Harry mumbled, closing his eyes. "Daphne?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"A kiss before I die?"

"You aren't going to die, Harry." Daphne said with a wet laugh. Tears filled her eyes as she desperately tried to blink them away. "And besides, I'm your doctor-"

"Please, Daphne?"

"Oh, alright then." She said with a huff. Leaning down, she pressed her soft lips against Harry's chapped ones, his hand slowly coming up to stroke her damp face. When she pulled back slightly, his eyes were barely open, but he was smiling. Daphne couldn't help but smile back.

"If I live through this, I'm going to marry you." Harry told her. Daphne couldn't help it. She laughed, hard and long and free. The sad tears that lined her eyes were now happier as she held Harry's hand in her own.

"Tell me that when you get healthy Harry. Otherwise I might not believe it."

"Alright, I will."

Harry Potter died later that evening while Daphne was at home showering. It was peaceful, and the research team was grateful to find the beast that had lodged itself into Harry's back was still alive.

Daphne didn't go to work for a week. Instead, she sat at home, rocking herself back and forth as she listened to the music Harry would play from his hospital room.

She didn't even get up when Hermione Granger walked into her house.

"He'd be so upset to find you like this." Hermione told her. Daphne shoved her face into her knees.

"Go away, get out of my house."

"I can't do that, Daphne." Hermione sighed. "Harry's funeral is today."

Daphne's head snapped up fast enough to make her head pound. Indeed, Hermione was dressed head to toe in black. No make up lined her face, and she didn't bother to hide her puffy red eyes.

Harry's funeral…he really was dead. Her patient, someone she had begun to fall in love with, was dead. A lump formed in her throat.

"He's really dead, isn't he?" She whispered. Hermione reached over, moving a strand of oily hair away from her.

"He's always with us, Daphne. In our hearts and in our minds."

"I should get ready," Daphne felt numb. Sad and numb all at once. And angry, she was so angry. Harry didn't deserve to be taken away from the world, from his friends, from her.

"I'll help you out, okay?" Hermione offered. Daphne just nodded, standing up from her place on her couch and falling to the floor. The lump in her throat became a sob. Hermione didn't mind. The ex-Gryffindor just wrapped Daphne in her arms and held her as she cried and screamed.

"I love him!"

"I know you do," Hermione told her. "He always talked about you. He wanted to marry you the moment he met you. We thought he was insane, but you two truly loved each other."

"I hate this world!"

"I know, love, I know." Hermione mumbled into her hair. "But Harry would have wanted you to love it."

Months later, using her own inheritance and some of the money Harry had given her in his will, Daphne had set up the first official Wizarding World Orphanage Foundation, or the WWOF. It was something Harry had asked them all to do, in honour of his own shitty childhood.

It had taken time, but it was done three years after his death. And even now, as Daphne awaited her eightieth birthday, the foundation had only grown, helping children not just in Britain, but around the world.