FicWad

A/N I hate disclaimers, this is not a disclaimer

Welcome to 'Harry got his Wand', first inspired by the novel, Johnny got his gun by Dalton Trumbo. If you are reading this story, thank you in advance for taking the time to sample my work, whether you enjoyed it or not. Also, I've had this on fanficion.net under a different name for quite some time now, I'm in the process of editing the existing chapters and writing new ones.

This is decidedly AU, and I make no apology.

Ron Weasley raced down the backstreets of Knockturn Alley pursuing a fleeing suspect. What had been a routine questioning had escalated into a full blown chase through the crooked streets. A warm sensation radiated from his wristwatch and he raised it to his face. This watch was no ordinary watch; George had made a pair of them from Harry's old two way mirror and Ron and Harry used their watches to rely urgent messages when separated on patrol.

'Ron, those anti-apparition wards are working, suspect is heading for Diagon Alley.'

Harry's face was determined, and he was looking not at his watch, but ahead of him. Ron reasoned Harry must have a direct visual on the suspect.

'I'm closing in' confirmed Harry. 'I'm going to engage the suspect, approach from his exposed side.' With that Harry cut the communication. As Ron rounded the corner he heard Harry yell 'Halt!' and saw several bright flashes of light shoot towards him. The suspect was determined to fight it out and Ron was equally determined to help Harry apprehend him before they were forced to cause any lasting damage. As Ron closed in to aid Harry there was a high pitched whistle and a blinding flash. Ron felt the energy pulse through him and had time to note that every hair on his body was standing on edge before the blast wave catapulted him through the magical barrier that separated Diagon Alley from the muggle world.

When Ron awoke he was at a loss as to where he was. He opened his eyes and immediately regretted it, as the jarring light was painful and he had to squint to see through it. A pretty young witch in lime green robes fussed over him, and he saw the outline of a plain clothed Auror outside the door. The nurse noticed he was awake and stopped working abruptly.

'Good morning Mr Weasley. It's good to have you back in the land of the living.'

'What happened?' asked Ron, 'I don't, I don't remember.'

'Memory loss is a common side effect of trauma such as yours; I can assure you its temporary. We found you outside Diagon Alley. You'd sustained multiple injuries from your trip through the boundary wall, physical and magical. You had some broken bones, and a mild skull fracture but we fixed that up easy enough. I'd like to keep you in overnight for observation but that's your prerogative, we can release you whenever you're ready.'

Ron noticed that while the nurse had a sunny disposition, she was making efforts not to meet his eyes. 'Has my family been told?' he asked.

'They have' replied the nurse, 'they're on their way.'

'What about Harry, and Hermione Granger? They're family too.' At the mention of Harry's name the nurse flinched, the way people used to flinch when they heard You-Know-Who.

'Mr Potter is in another ward' began the healer, 'from what we understand, the two of you were injured pursuing a fugitive. I'm afraid Mr Potter's injuries are quite severe and it wouldn't be in his best interest if I allowed you to see him now.'

Visiting parents would later tell their children to forget everything they heard from the angry man's room, not one bit of that cursing was directed at them and no they weren't to repeat any of it to their friends when they got home.

The healer led Ron through a corridor and up a set of stairs. Ron paled as he saw the sign labelling the ward he was being taken to, the ward where Harry lay. Permanent spell damage was embossed in light green across the door. The ward was empty save for a cold metal bed surrounded by a curtain on all sides. Hesitantly, Ron approached the bed. He parted the curtain and gasped, then cursed himself for being so thoughtless. Harry lay under a sheet, his face was covered and his limbs were missing. There was no sign of life other than the soft rise and fall of his chest as he was fed air through a tube. From the top of the mask the famous scar showed, confirming the reality, the unbearable truth, that it was definitely Harry Potter.

Ron stepped backwards and turned on the healer. 'Fix him' he said simply.

The healer looked at Ron with pity in her eyes, in every syllable of her words, 'We can't fix him. There is serious curse damage to the majority of his body which we can't undo. We had to amputate all of his limbs, and he's lost his face from the eyes downwards. It's why he's wearing a mask, it's not pretty. He's suffered a massive head trauma, brain damage that impairs all his major functions. I'm sorry, but he'll remain as unthinking, as unfeeling as the dead, until the day he joins them.'

Ron cried for his friend, for his brother, his comrade at arms and turned away. He had intended to make his way home, but he barely made it three steps from the bed before his legs gave out and he collapsed to the floor.

Where am I? I can't see anything, where's the light? I can't move to find the switch, I must be hurt bad. I hope Ron's ok, did we get him I'm not sure I don't-I don't remember. I was running, running running running and then…light.

Why doesn't someone come and talk to me? Here you are Mr Harry Potter sir here's your medicine everything's going to be fine just drink up and it will all go away there, there there. Hush. Maybe I've a bandage over my eyes, and that's why I can't see. I hope they take my bandage off soon. I want to leave soon. I don't want to stay.

Why doesn't someone do something?

Well there you go, please review and stay tuned for updates. It's only just beginning for Harry.