FicWad

St. Mungo's was the very place Harry most hated to visit. His mind had always associated it with pain, tears, loss, grief. Too often had he been forced to say his last goodbyes to family members and friends, too many of his comrades from the Magical Law Enforcement Unit had been delivered here with awful, gashing, oozing wounds or missing limbs, hit by unknown Dark curses, the majority of them never to recover afterwards.

Quite understandably, Harry was feeling uncomfortably as he pushed the entrance door open and entered the Reception Hall. His restless Auror eyes quickly scanned the interior of the hall, but his features suddenly relaxed and a huge grin formed on his face. He covered the distance from the door to the Reception desk in two giant leaps.

“Susan! Susan Bones!” he called out loudly. The healer at the Reception desk, quickly scribbling with her quill on a piece of parchment, raised her head from her work and emitted a surprised, happy yell.

“Harry! Harry! So good to see you!” With a honest smile on her face, his former school mate rose from her chair and enclosed Harry in a bone-crunching hug giving a quick peck on his face, which the surprised young man was all too eager to answer likewise. Still enjoying the warmth and curviness of the well-formed female body pressed tight against him, he was reluctant to break the hug.

“My, my, my. What a pleasant, warm welcome,” he grinned. “You know, you can always welcome me like this.”

The girl let out a ringing laughter and carefully examined his face. “Who are you and what have you done to the shy Harry Potter I used to know once?”

“Dunno, maybe grew up?” the boy answered and, holding her away at arm's length, let his eyes linger at her ample cleavage, which even her old-fashioned Healer robe was unable to hide completely.

“Do I feel as if being checked out by the boyfriend of one of my best friends, Auror Potter?” Susan asked in a mock serious voice, but her eyes twinkled playfully. “Or... are you trying to hit on me perhaps?” She changed to a more playful tone.

“Oh no, Susan, one complete disaster was enough,” flushed Harry red, but Susan took pity on him. “Come on, Harry. It wasn't a disaster. Actually, we had fun, and I enjoyed being with you. You were kind, understanding; you were very gentle and sex was wonderful,” she blushed prettily. “But, we both knew we didn't love each other enough to make it into a long-term relationship. You and Ginny were on hold then, I'd been awfully hurt by my previous boyfriend and we simply found refuge in each other. What we had, back then, was precisely what we both needed. Not just a quick shag, it certainly was more than that, rather a casual relationship with no strings attached.”

“Sue, I will never forget those wonderful days and nights. I'll always cherish the time we'd spent together,” Harry whispered into her ears. The girl let out a small sigh and Harry could feel her warm breath against his neck.”You go on flattering like this, Mr. Potter, and I might want to repeat that fun. And, if I'm not mistaken, you're also happy to see me. Or is that your wand perhaps?” she inquired innocently and Harry quickly stepped away, in embarrassment letting go of her, which elicited a loud cackle from the girl.

“Shite,” thought Harry, “shite, shite, shite.” Susan, however, wasn't determined to guarantee him an easy death. Poking out her tongue at him, she brushed his unruly black hair with her hand. “Well, it's nice to know you care,” she teased the boy, earning a healthy tickle from him. Luckily, the Reception hall was empty at this early hour of the day – it wasn't even six a.m. - and their small intermezzo went unnoticed.

Harry took a chair and patted the one besides him, indicating Susan to sit down.

“So, how have you been, love?” he asked. Proudly smiling, the former Hufflepuff looked around the Reception hall, her empire for tonight. “I think I've made a pretty good career choice, if this is what you were asking. Otherwise, I'm single, if this is what you really wanted to hear.” Muttering something inconsistent, from which Susan could only make out the word “minx”, Harry shook his head. “At this point, I was referring to your career choice, Sue.”

“And you want to make me believe you? No chance, love,” Susan laughed. “All right, all right. Just teasing. I love it here. It makes me feel… special. Feel important, if you understand me. I'm actually saving people's lives. I don't think I could have chosen a better occupation.”

Harry's answer “Certainly better than taking people's lives” was already on the tip of his tongue, but he wisely decided to keep his opinion to himself. Besides, the girl had another breaking news.

“Harry, you're most certainly aware of Kingsley resigning in December, right?” The boy nodded his agreement. Feeling his questioning glance, Susan finally blurted out the news. “Well... Auntie is one of the possible candidates for the position of the Minister of Magic and Kingsley is backing her completely, so...”

“That's wonderful, Susie!” The joy in Harry's voice was absolutely honest. “She's the most appropriate person for the post, so she's got my vote, that's for sure.”

“Thanks Harry,” she locked her eyes with his. “Aunt Amelia will need every support she can get but she says it's not a big deal if she doesn't get elected. But it's always me, me, me. What about you? When are you two finally getting married?”

The boy turned serious and examined the pattern of the floor tiles silently for a moment.

“Sue, love, I had a car accident tonight. We had a row with Ginny and well... I had to go to work anyway but I just kind of ran away from home. Come on, you know us,” he added bitterly when he saw the look on her face. “One moment we yell at each other, the next moment we shag each other senseless. I love her, I do, from the very depths of my heart, but this permanent fighting just kills me. I don't know how long we still can go on like this.”

Drawing a sharp breath, he prepared himself for the worst part of his tale. “So, I just sat into my car and drove off. I was confused and pissed like hell... well, I wasn't paying attention and I hit a small girl. As far as I could diagnose her, she had only a few fractures but I put a Stasis charm on her just in case and Apparated us here. I was never good with Healing charms,” he explained slowly and the pain radiating from his voice was palpable. “I was unable to fall asleep; I had to think about her the whole night. Do you think I would be able to check on her? I feel immensely guilty.”

Susan nodded understandingly and patted his hand. “Let me just check last night's admissions,” she offered and, summoning the necessary sheet of parchment, quickly ran through the short list of new patients.

“Here she is, at least I think it's her,” she pointed at one of the records. “Girl, magical, age between five and six years, delivered by Chief Auror Harry James Potter at 11:04 pm under the Stasis charm, Auror standard. Car accident, slight concussion, four broken ribs. Name, address, parents' whereabouts unknown.”

“That's what I call record keeping,” laughed Harry, admiring the short and meaningful report. “You should see the mess in Ron's files... or on my desk,” he scratched his head in embarrassment.

Taking his hand into hers, Susan gave it a tight squeeze. “You forget, Chief Auror Potter, that the circumstances we'd left your desk that night was not entirely your fault,” she whispered into his ears in a mock husky voice.

Earnestly smiling at her, the boy put his index finger against her lips. “Who is now the one who's trying to hit on the other?” he asked innocently, enjoying the pretty flush on the girl's face which made her features even more beautiful. Susan playfully slapped him on his shoulder. “I'll get you for that, you lovely prat! Besides, I was NOT trying to hit on you, merely recalling a beautiful memory from the past thank you very much.”

The door opened with a weird screeching noise and another Mediwitch entered the Reception hall, startling the two friends. Susan stood up and, making a serious face, turned to the newcomer.

“Hi, Jen,” she welcomed her colleague. “Punctual as always, are we?”

The tall blonde flushed red. “G'mornin Sue, I dinno youd company,” she muttered incomprehensibly, not taking her eyes off the “company”.

Susan quickly understood the reason of Jen's confusion and just laughed at her colleague's antics but Harry wasn't feeling funny. Eight blasted years went by since the Battle for Hogwarts and he was still being looked upon as if he were some kind of Superman. Willing to ease the situation for both of them, he stood up and offered his right hand to the girl.

'Harry Potter, Healer... Williams,” he introduced himself in a friendly voice, checking the girl's badge on her robe. “Yes, that Potter, otherwise Harry.”

“Auror Potter, pleased to meet you in person,” was all the girl could manage and, seeing her trembling legs, Harry could swear she was just about to faint. “Healer Bones,” he turned to the other girl, ”do you think I would be allowed to see the patient we were just talking about?”

Nodding her understanding, Susan checked her watch. “Chief Auror Potter,” she stressed the boy's correct title, eliciting a growl from Harry and a small sigh from Jen, and with a honest smile on her face continued. “My shift ends in five minutes. If you wish, I will take you to the patient myself. Now would you please wait outside in the corridor? I won't take long.”

Susan was right. Seven minutes later, already in her everyday robe, her gorgeous hair pulled up in a ponytail, she appeared through the door of the Reception hall. Pulling up the boy from his chair, she hooked her arm through his and the two friends took the elevator to the third floor.

Stopping in front of ward 327, Harry threw a questioning look at Susan. Understanding his hesitation, the young woman simply nodded, kissing him goodbye, and Harry finally found his courage to knock at the door before entering.

The ward had been originally designed to accommodate small patients and the interieur was carefully chosen. Painted into a relaxing pistache-green colour, the walls were decorated with wizarding pictures of animals and mythical creatures. Similar to the ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the ceiling was enchanted as well; now deep blue, covered with countless stars and planets. There was a small table and two chairs, on the table several pluche figures were scattered. Harry was surprised to find a rather exact copy of a Welsh Green; the little dragon was spreading his wings and swishing his tail, trying to produce fire from his small mouth.

The little patient looked so fragile there, lying in her bed, and Harry silently cursed himself for his reckless driving. Not willing to disturb her potion-induced sleep – she'd been administered Skele-Gro to mend her broken ribs and Dreamless Dream against the pain – Harry pulled a chair against the windows, where the first rays of the September morning sun already found their way through the blinds and randomly pulled a book from the small bookshelf.

The book turned out to be “The Tales of Beedle the Bard”, the very book that had changed Harry's life forever and provided the key to end the Wizarding War and dispose of the Dark Lord for good. There was another memory connected to this book he'd been cherishing ever since, his memories of his once best female friend, Hermione Granger. It was her who had been reading this book aloud – her own copy, received from Albus Dumbledore himself – many, many times during their hideout. It was her whose sweet voice had been associated with these tales ever since.

Almost seven years went by since they'd seen her for the last time. After having graduated from Hogwarts after the war, Harry and Hermione temporarily filled in two vacant teaching positions in their old alma mater, while Ron went to help George in their newly opened shop at Hogsmeade.

During the Yule break, on their way to London, Ron and Hermione had a huge fight and surprisingly Harry took Ron's side this time. The distressed girl, all in tears, her eyes red and puffy from crying, apparated away straight from the train, and they hadn't seen her ever since. The Aurors had been searching for her for more than a year, to no avail.

There was stirring in the bed and Harry raised his head from the book, by now almost finished. The small girl was wide awake and curiously observed the young man with his old-fashioned spectacles and unruly, raven-black hair.

Smiling at her, Harry clapped the book close.

“Good morning, Ginevra,” he greeted the girl in a soft voice. “I hope I didn't wake you up. How are you doing this morning?”

Stretching her hands and legs, the girl evaluated her state. “Not too bad, Mister. Thanks for asking. You are not a Healer, are you? You're not wearing a white robe they wear. May I ask you what you are doing here then?”

Scratching his head, Harry thought for a while. Finally, he decided that telling the truth – no matter how inconvenient it might have been – was his best option in this uncomfortable situation. Carefully picking his words, he answered.

“My name is Harry Potter, but you can call me simply Harry, if you want to. I'm not a Healer. I'm the reason you are in this hospital. It was my car hitting you last night.”

The girl chewed on this information for a while, then winced. She clearly remembered running away, crossing streets, bumping into people and remembered the two white headlights and the sound of the screeching tyres as the car tried to stop, in vain.

“Are you a Muggle then, driving a car, Harry?” she finally inquired, politely, as usual.

Harry managed a small smile. “No, Ginevra, I'm a wizard. I live in the Muggle part of London with my girlfriend, however, and I do drive a car. Last night I wasn't paying attention...” he swallowed. “Look, sweetheart, I'm so terribly sorry that you'd landed here because of me. Can I do anything for you? Do you need anything? Some family member I could owl or Floo?”

Sadly shaking her head, Ginevra answered. “No, Harry. Thanks for asking, again, but I don't need anything.” Hearing a five-six years old girl talk like this made Harry for some reason extremely sad. It seemed as if the girl was much older than her age, and he knew, he instinctively felt she must have had no easy life; precocious children very seldom do.

He sat on the bed and took her tiny hands into his own.

“My girlfriend's called Ginevra as well, did you know that?” he smiled at the girl. The little one's eyes lit up in awe. “Really? I have never met anyone with my name. My dad told me once...”

Suddenly remembering last night's events, she started crying, just out of the blue, burying her face into Harry's chest. Harry held her tight, providing her a safe spot where she could let her emotions flow and just waited patiently.

Looking up into his face through her tearstained eyes, Ginevra sniffed. “We rent a small room in the Leaky Cauldron, you know. Last night, Dad felt bad and he started bleeding out of his mouth and nose, then he just fell on the floor, and the inn-keeper's husband called for the Healers who Flooed him here. Do you think I can visit him?”

Casting her an assuring look, Harry reached for his wand. “Why don't we just find it out, Ginevra?” Pressing the tip of his wand against a red circle on the wall, he called for a nurse and in no time a young witch in the standard white Healer robe entered the ward.

Greeting her in a friendly way and introducing himself – luckily this Healer stood firmly on her feet and made no fuzz from the fact that she was standing face-to-face with one of the most famous wizards on Earth – Harry inquired whether a certain Robert Donovan had been admitted last night. The Healer left the ward, but came back almost immediately with a parchment in her hand.

“Is Mr. Donovan your father, Ginevra?” she inquired, smiling at the girl.

Nodding profusely, she smiled back at her. “Yes, Ma'am, he is my dad. Can I see him?”

The healer cast a quick glance at the girl's status, then with a few wand movements performed a couple of diagnostic spells on her, with Harry marvelling her effective wandlore, somehow reminding him of Hermione again. Strange, he thought, after years and years of silence, she would all of a sudden keep emerging in my head again.

Satisfied with the results of her diagnostics, the young Healer smiled again at the girl.

“I don't see any problems with it, you're completely healed, my dear. Let me just get a wheelchair for you, will you?” she offered.

Quickly making up his mind, Harry stood up from the girl's bed, pocketing his wand. “Do you mind if I go with her, Healer Davies? I want to apologize to Mr. Donovan,” he explained, shrugging incomfortably. He expected it to be a rather unpleasant talk, but he had to face it. Little did he know that this talk - and the ones that would follow in the coming days – would turn his world – and the world of several other people – completely upside down.

“We had all trusted our lives into your hands, Mr. Potter, on more than one occasion, and you'd never failed us,” the young woman approvingly measured him with her glance. “I daresay Ginevra will be absolutely safe with you. Mr. Donovan is in ward 551.”