The minister visits Harry
Am I dreaming?
I must be asleep I've never been this peaceful while I was awake. I love dreaming now Voldemort's not in my head. Mouldy Voldy all on his ownsie who's laughing now? I beat you, I won, I BEAT YOU AND I WON DO YOU HEAR ME... Can anybody hear me?
Wait! Someone's coming, I can feel the vibrations. I can feel them HELP OH PLEASE HELP ME, please…pinch me, wake me up just do SOMETHING!
The Healer fussed over the body of Harry Potter, checking his bandages and breathing tube. It was a funny little thing, barely two inches of hollow plastic jutting out of his throat, keeping him alive. His breathing was as steady as a metronome. In. Out. In. Out. She could set a watch to it. Normally a patient in Mr Potter's condition wouldn't have survived the night, and if her superior hadn't ordered the tracheotomy when he did then he certainly wouldn't have. Muggle medicine, she thought to herself, we're using muggle medicine to save the light of the wizarding world.
She heard the door behind her open and turned to reprimand whoever had just come barging in like they owned the place.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic, strode into the hospital room and looked gravely at Harry's bed. He turned to the Healer and asked 'How is he?'
The Healer was almost star struck, but considering who her patient was it was inevitable that the Minister would be paying a visit. 'He's stable' she replied. 'No change from since we brought him in. He sleeps, he wakes up. There appear to be no signs of cognitive thought; movement of the head is frequent most likely the result of nerve damage. We feed him a sleeping draught if it becomes too erratic.'
HELLO! HELLO! Oh why can't I speak to you? No, the two of you. A man and a woman. Who is he? Is he a Healer too? Is it Ron? RON, RON ARE YOU OK? WHAT'S HAPPENED TO ME? What's the use, they can't hear me. I can't even hear me…
'I want him moved' said Kingsley. 'Somewhere out of the way, where people won't see him, his needs aren't demanding so it should be possible.'
'This ward is empty Minister' replied the Healer. The permanent damage ward was rarely very full, before Harry there had been the Longbottoms Frank and Alice, but they had passed last summer. Harry had come to see them if she remembered rightly. An impatient noise sounded from the Minister.
'I noticed that thank you; I walked through it to get here.' Kingsley's voice was like ice, and he lowered it to barely above a whisper to say his next words, 'It might not remain empty when the Prophet finds out what happened. Can you imagine what it would do to the Ministry if this got out? It's barely recovered from Voldemort' Kingsley ignored the Healer's flinch and continued, 'We're going to keep this quiet for now.' The minister looked down at Harry and leant against the bed. He had almost forgotten the healer was even there and was talking for his own benefit. 'Harry's been away before; we'll say he's out of the country on official business. Now get him moved!' with that, Kingsley turned away and left the room.
Why are you leaving? Don't go, stay please. Ron don't leave me.
Harry began struggling furiously in his bed, his head thrashing from side to side. The Healer, remembering her standing orders, applied a sleeping draught.
Oh no, not the sleeping potion again. I hat- I don't want no no n-
When he was asleep the Healer took him to an empty supply cupboard, somewhere out of the way like the minister ordered. She sealed the door shut.
In. Out. In. Out. At least I can feel my breathing. And my heartbeat I suppose, that must be the same. Lub dub. Lub du- but I can't hear it. Is this it? Is this death? I must be dead, my heart isn't beating. Dumbledore! Dumbledore are you here? Is this 'on', what you told me about that night at Hogwarts? No. I must be alive, I'm breathing aren't I, so I can't be dead. That means my heart is beating too I just can't hear it.
If you can't hear your heartbeat it means you've gone deaf. Oh Merlin, I've gone deaf. That's the end of my career if I ever get out of here. Well maybe, I've never met a deaf wizard before, maybe they can fix it with magic. Fix me with magic. Fix me. Please.
Come on Harry, you can't hear but you can feel. Feel now. I can't feel anything; maybe it only works when people are here? Or when I'm awake, or asleep. What am I doing now I don't even know? How do I know if I'm alive and dreaming or dead and remembering if I can't tell if I'm awake or asleep.
'All things happen for a reason Harry'
Who said that? I can't see you. I heard you though. I heard you! I can't be deaf after all. Unless you're in my head, unless it's a dream. Who is it?
'Don't you recognise my voice Harry?'
'Yes that's right. Where are we if you don't mind my asking?'
'We're at…nowhere. I can't see anything at all, just…darkness.'
'When you are ready, I will come again. Goodbye Harry.'
'No Dumbledore, don't leave. Don't leave me again.'
Why did he leave? Leave then, I don't need you. I NEVER NEEDED YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME DUMBLEDORE? I DON'T NEED YOU. I don't need anyone. I'm going to be just fine on my own, like I always have done before. Done gun fun won bun son sun see? I'm fine.