The next day Harry woke up to find a new group of people in his room including Professor Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and Hermione’s mum, the female Dr. Granger.
“Morning,” Harry said, looking around at them.
“Oh Harry,” Mrs. Weasley smiled. “It’s good to see you again. You had us quite worried.”
Dr. Granger sat down next to Harry and smiled at him, “Good morning Harry, do you know where you are?”
“Yes, I’m in the hospital in Little Whinging.”
Dr. Granger continued, “Do you know what day it is?”
“I’m hoping it’s July 5th.”
She smiled back at him. “It is, that’s good. How’s the pain?”
“Not bad, it’s been worse.”
“Yes, Hermione’s told me about your previous scrapes. From what I can gather, this is the fifth time you’ve been in death’s way.”
“Huh?”
“I mean this is the fifth time in fifteen years that you have almost been killed. Am I right?”
Ron piped up, “I think it’s more than that, mate. Quirrell your first year, the Basilisk the second, the Dementors your third, you also fell, what a hundred feet from your broomstick that year? And then there was the end of the fourth year, the end of fifth year. This one would make seven.”
Hermione chimed in, “Eight actually, don’t forget the attack on you when you were a baby.”
A new nurse popped in, “Good morning Harry, I’m Jane, I’ll be your nurse today. Would you like some breakfast?”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
The nurse continued, “Dr. Hanne will be making rounds shortly and will be stopping to see you soon. There is also someone from the social services office who will be in later this morning as well. “
Harry nodded to show he understood, and the nurse left. Harry sighed and closed his eyes. This was ridiculous.
“Harry,” Dumbledore began gently, “there are some matters we need to discuss, if you feel up to it.”
“What do we need to discuss, professor?” Harry said, not opening his eyes again.
Dumbledore sighed, “Many things Harry. A great many things, and there is not much time.”
Harry opened his eyes and looked over at Dumbledore, who seemed worried. “What is it?”
“I need to know certain details about the attack at Privet Drive. Professor Lupin has provided me information from the time that he arrived. Would you please tell me the detail leading up to the attack and then to the point where Professor Lupin arrived?”
Harry hadn’t thought about the attack. What did he remember? Flashes of the battle began floating through his head. What he could remember seemed jumbled and hazy. “Er…” Harry began. “I’m not sure if I can remember everything.”
“Just give me what you can. There are pieces to this that are puzzling to me, and I need more information.” Dumbledore looked intent, but his gaze was gentle. “I know that you are tired Harry, but you are the only one who saw the original attack.”
Harry sighed, and then nodded, “I was getting my trunk out of the car when a man came up the driveway and started talking to Uncle Vernon. Something about him seemed odd, out of place. I started to pull my wand out of my pocket, but I held back because I was in the Muggle world. He pulled a gun on Uncle Vernon, and started to rant about how horrible his life was and that it was my Uncle’s fault.”
Harry paused here and thought, “Then he just shot me, he didn’t even look at me, in the middle of the row with my Uncle he just shot me. I wasn’t ready, and it happened so fast. It was strange, surreal. I pulled out my wand then and tried to stun him, but I missed. He didn’t even look at me or seem to notice that a spell had almost hit him. He then shot at everyone, Uncle Vernon, me, Aunt Petunia, Dudley. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were behind the car and they didn’t get hurt, I don’t think. But both Uncle Vernon and I were hit again. I fell then, but I did manage to get a stunner off and it took him down…”
Harry paused to think some more. For some reason he felt very numb about this whole event, like someone else had experienced it and he was watching it like a bad dream. “Professor Lupin arrived very soon after that, before the Death Eaters came,” Harry lapsed into silence.
The whole room was watching Harry very intently, waiting for him to continue, when he didn’t, Professor Dumbledore said gently, “Do you remember anything else?”
Harry racked his brain, “I remember Dudley pulling me under the car, and being brought here, I remember going into surgery.”
“What else do you remember before you loaded were loaded in the ambulance?” Dumbledore continued.
“It was loud, and bright, like fireworks going off. Was there a fire? I think something was on fire. The Dark Mark, there was the Dark Mark in the air.”
“Harry this is very important. What do you remember about the gunman?”
“Er... What do you mean?”
“What do you remember about the man who shot you, before you stunned him?”
“Er… He was wearing a long coat and a hat. It was very hot outside, so it seemed really out of place. He said his name, but I can’t remember it.”
“Ned Rivers is his name. Did he ever look at you? Did you see his eyes?”
“No, he didn’t ever really look at me. Not even when he shot me. He just kept raving at Uncle Vernon.”
“He didn’t look at you when you shot the stunning spell at him?”
“No, he didn’t seem to notice.”
“Should he have noticed?”
“What?”
“Was the spell close enough that he should have been aware it?”
“Huh?”
“Let me put it another way. If you had shot Ron with that curse while he was talking to Hermione here, would Ron have noticed?”
“Definitely. Ron would have noticed. It was fairly close. I thought it grazed him.”
“And you never saw his eyes?”
“No… Professor, what are you getting at?”
Dumbledore looked down at his hands. “Harry, the events at the end of last year did not turn out favorably for Voldemort. His primary attempt failed, but we assumed that he has some sort of secondary plan in the works. We know that there were Death Eaters watching your house during parts of last year. We also know that your Uncle and Ned Rivers worked together, and your Uncle worked to have him fired. What we don’t know is if this was a random act of one mentally deranged man, which the Death Eaters capitalized on, or if the gunman was in league with Voldemort.”
Harry sighed. His hollowness was returning. He found that he didn’t really care one way or the other. It didn’t really change things. It didn’t change the fact that his life would either include or end in murder. It didn’t change the fact that now everyone who had been a parent to him were either dead or seriously injured. And there was pain, pain in his side, pain in his leg. Harry closed his eyes.
“Harry,” Dumbledoor said gently again. “Are you in pain?”
Harry nodded, and wished nothing more than to drop off into the blackness that shrouded his last days. Pictures began to creep in from the corners of his brain. Uncle Vernon bleeding on the ground, Lupin shielding Aunt Petunia, Ron covered in brains, Hermione collapsing in the Department of Mysteries, Sirius falling through the veil, Cedric lying spread eagle in the graveyard. Harry tried to control them, he tried to find the numbness again, but the emotion was overwhelming. It was threatening to overtake him.
“Harry,” Dumbledore said more gently, “Can you look at me?”
Harry opened his eyes and looked at Dumbledore. He looked so kind, so sad, that Harry couldn’t take it. The emotions washed over him like a wave. Harry turned his head and quickly turned away. He couldn’t stop it, the tears were coming now. Harry tried to angrily brush them away with his hands, but more came. He wished they’d just stop looking at him. He wished they’d all just go away. It was too much.
Mrs. Weasley came forward, took Harry’s hand, and sat down on the bed next to him. “You’ve been through a lot Harry. Don’t be ashamed, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”
Harry looked at Mrs. Weasley, she had tears in her eyes too.
“I would take away your pain if I could, Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley soothed. “All of us would. You’ve been through so much. We didn’t want to put you through anything more, and then 3 hours after leaving us, you were hurt again. I never should have let you go. I should have brought you straight back to the Burrow with us, where you belong. I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”
Harry’s tears turned into whimpering, the whimpering to crying, the crying to wailing. It all hurt so much. Mrs Weasley stroked his head while he sobbed.
“I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this. Professor Dumbledore, I can’t do this,” Harry sobbed, looking at the headmaster imploringly. “He’s taken everything, my Mum, my Dad, Cedric, Sirius, and now maybe my Aunt and Uncle too. I can’t do this. Why me? Why not Neville? It could have been him. Why does it have to me?” Harry stopped talking, but the sobs continued for several more minutes.
After Harry stopped crying, he felt exhausted. He closed his eyes and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.
“Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley said quietly, “the doctor is here to see you. Would you like us to stay, or go?”
“Stay,” Harry said opening his eyes, “You are the only family that I have now.”
“Now that’s not very optimistic,” said a new voice coming into the room. “In medical school, they always told us that humans are remarkable and there is always hope as long as your patient is still alive. Your Uncle may not be in good shape, but there is no reason to believe that is going to die. I’m Dr. Hanne, Harry. I operated on you 4 days ago. As for you Aunt, time will probably do more for her than any medicine. From what I understand she is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s going to take her some time, but they expect her to make a full recovery. How are you doing? Are the nurses treating you okay? They can be dodgy at times.”
Harry nodded but didn’t say anything.
“How’s your pain? We had a decrease your pain meds yesterday. Your operation did not go smoothly. For awhile there thought that we were going to lose you. I’ve never seen anything like it. You required twice the normal amount of anesthesia for your size to keep you from waking up during surgery. You almost woke twice. But then just as we were finishing up, the anesthesia finally seemed to function correctly, and your heart rate and breathing plummeted. There were a few anxious moments where we thought you might stop breathing altogether, but you fought through.
“You really didn’t wake up much the next two days. Your body had gone through too much trauma. When on the third day, you still weren’t coming around for more than a few minutes at a time; we decided to cut back on your pain killers. They can make you very sleepy.”
“What’s Harry prognosis, doctor?” Dr. Granger asked.
“It’s good,” Dr. Hanne turned to look at her. “We still have him classified in serious condition, but he’s young and a fighter. I would guess that he will be upgraded to fair condition sometime today or tomorrow. He will make a full recovery, but the leg is going to require some more surgeries at a later date. Part of the bone is simply gone. I removed several fragments and closed the wound, but I didn’t fix the break. An orthopedist will have to do that as soon as Harry will be able to tolerate another surgery.”
Harry remembered the night in the hospital wing growing his arm bones back, and wished that Madam Pomfrey was here right now. She’d fix him right up.
“What about the abdominal wound? Will that cause any long term problems?” Dr. Granger asked.
“It shouldn’t. It didn’t hit anything vital, just some intestines, and some muscle, which we removed. It shouldn’t be a problem later; his small intestine and colon are just shorter than they used to be. The biggest problem was that it bled a lot. We estimated that Harry lost roughly thirty percent of his blood volume. I still can’t believe that he was conscious when they brought him in. The secondary problem from this wound is the possibly for an infection. His intestines where ruptured which means that toxins could have leaked into his blood stream. But if that had happened, he would be running a fever by now.”
“How long will I have to be here?” Harry asked the doctor.
“I’m not sure, it will depend on how quickly you recover. Your body has some major healing to do. You still essentially have a hole from your front to your back. You’re not going anywhere until we’re sure it will heal completely without infection. There are other non-medical complications as well. Right now, we don’t have anyone to discharge you to. Your guardians are in no condition to care for you, and you don’t have any other family to step in. Social services is working on that one. They’ll be around later today. I’m sure they’ll have something figured out. You’ll probably go home with one of your friends,” he gestured to Ron and Hermione.
The doctor paused and took a more serious tone. “There are a few other things I need to ask you, Harry.” Dr. Hanne said, “that scar on your forehead is a result of…?”
“The car accident that killed my parents, I was just over a year old.”
The doctor nodded, “What about the scar on your arm?”
“Er.. what scar?”
The doctor walked over and pointed to where the Wormtail’s blade pierced his arm 2 years ago in the graveyard. It was the only wound that Harry had received since his start at Hogwarts that hadn’t been magically healed. “That’s looks like a knife wound. You were stabbed, weren’t you?”
Harry faltered, “Er…Yeah, I guess so.”
“Who stabbed you?”
Harry looked around the room for help. None was forthcoming. “Umm… well… it was an accident.”
The doctor looked doubtful, “You were accidentally stabbed?”
Harry looked down and mumbled, “Yeah, pretty stupid really.”
“You also have a scar on the back of your hand. It says, ‘I shall not tell lies’. It’s faded now, but when you were brought in it was very visible, probably due to the blood loss.”
Harry glanced down at his hand. Sure enough, the scar resulting from Dolores Umbrigde’s detention last year was showing up quite nicely on the back of his hand. Harry looked back at the doctor. He didn’t know what to say. He just shrugged.
“Not going to tell me huh?” The doctor looked sad. “Were you aware that your Aunt and Uncle were reported to social services by two of your grammar school teachers for suspected neglect?”
Harry looked up surprised, “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Your living situation was found marginally acceptable, not good, but not bad enough to warrant you becoming a ward of the state. From what I understand, if you would have had any other living relatives, they would have moved you. So, are you going to tell me how you got these wounds?” The doctor pressed.
“Er…well… I know it looks fishy, but these were just accidents, really.” Harry knew that he wasn’t being nearly convincing enough.
“You accidentally had someone cut I shall not tell lies in your hand, or was it a brand?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty tough to explain,” Harry admitted. “But it wasn’t my Aunt and Uncle who did it.”
“So who did?”
“Er… well…” Harry lapsed again into silence. He shifted his position a bit and his side gave an unpleasant stab of pain. “Aahh,” Harry winced.
“Are you okay?” the doctor asked.
“I’m okay. Listen doctor, the Dursley’s are not responsible for my injuries. I’m just accident prone. I will admit that the Dursley’s never wanted me and there is not much love between us. When I’m of age, I’m leaving and will probably never be back. But they never physically hurt me,” Harry said to the doctor truthfully.
“So you’re accident prone?” Dr. Hanne said doubtfully.
“Yes, I’m very accident prone. Just ask Ron,” Harry answered, glancing over to Ron standing behind his mother.
The doctor looked over to Ron and raised his eyebrows, silently asking Ron for confirmation.
Ron spoke carefully, “Trouble always seems to find Harry. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to drag him to the nurse at school.”
“So you can you tell me where Harry got all of his scars?” Dr. Hanne asked Ron pointedly.
“Well, the forehead scar has been there since I’ve known him. I’m not exactly sure about the scar on his arm. That could have been from that time we got into a fight with Malfoy. He’s a little ferret that one. Or Harry may have cut himself at lunch, when he was ogling over Cho Chang, she’s in a year at school. Harry fancied her last year.”
Ron’s words had the desired effect, the doctor smiled despite himself.
Ron continued, “As for the scar on his hand, we had this really horrible teacher last year, who took a dislike to Harry. It didn’t matter what Harry said or did, she had it out for him. She had some pretty gruesome punishments for students she didn’t like. I’m pretty sure that it was her who gave Harry the scar on his hand.”
Dumbledore spoke up at this point, “Harry, did Professor Umbrigde do that to you?”
Harry looked at Dumbledore and nodded slightly.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?” Dumbledore asked.
“I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction,” Harry admitted.
“So you let her cut your hand?” Mrs. Weasley said outraged. She rounded on Dumbledore, “How could let this happen? They are supposed to be learning, not being tortured.”
“I assure you Molly that if I had known about Professor Umbrigde’s actions I would have stopped them immediately.” Professor Dumbledore continued, “She will not be returning this year.”
Harry noticed Hermione’s smile at this comment. The doctor looked a bit more satisfied, but not convinced.
Dr. Hanne continued, “Alright Harry. I’ll drop it for now, but you’re on my radar. If you ever show up at my door with more strange injuries, I’m going to call social services myself.”
Ron piped up, “Don’t worry, he will. That’s just Harry.”
The doctor smiled at Ron, and then turned back to Harry. “You can have as much pain medicine as you need, be sure to ask the nurses for it. There is no reason you need to be in pain. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow, Harry.”
“Thanks Doctor,” Harry said closing his eyes again.
Harry hadn’t meant to, but he fell asleep almost immediately. He dozed lightly, until he heard Mrs. Weasley calling his name again.
“Harry, dear? Can you wake up? The woman from social services is here to see you.”
Harry reluctantly opened his eyes. In the room were Dr. Granger, Mrs. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore and a pleasant looking woman wearing a badge.
“Hi Harry,” said the new face. “I’m Melinda Bywater. I’ve been assigned to work on your case. Do you understand why I’m here?”
Harry sighed, “My Aunt and Uncle are incapacitated, and I don’t have anyone else to speak for me as my guardian.”
She smiled a grim apologetic smile, “Yes, it seems ironic that the time you need your family the most they aren’t able to be around.”
Harry thought ‘Like they ever had been before’, but he said, “Yes, ironic.”
“I have done some research into your case in the last few days. It’s been frustrating pulling your paperwork. I can’t find much information about your father. I have more information about your Mum, but that’s still limited. There are large holes in your file. I have a birth certificate for you, with some court documents giving Petunia Dursley full custody of you. I don’t have a copy of your parent’s will, so I can’t make a judgment on their intentions, should Mrs. Dursley no longer be able to care for you. There is no mention of you in Mrs. Dursley’s will so I can’t make a judgment on that either. So I’m left only one option. Where do you want to go?”
“What?” Harry said in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Since there is no clear indication what your parents or Aunt wanted for you given the circumstances that have arisen, I am asking you what you want. You are almost sixteen, and you should have a say. Where do you want to live? I can’t guarantee that it will work out, but we can try.”
“That’s easy,” Harry started, “Sir…” Harry had just about said Sirius, completely forgetting that he was dead. The two hours that he thought he was going to go live with Sirius were some of happiest moments he’d ever had. Now that he could be free of the Dursley’s and live with Sirius, Sirius was gone forever. It was like losing him all over again.
“Oh Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said, sitting down next to him again. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry?” the social worker said looking confused.
“Harry’s godfather just recently passed away,” Mrs. Weasley said delicately. “He and Harry were very close.”
“I’m so sorry Harry,” Melinda said, looking at him with concern. “You’ve been through a lot lately, huh?”
Harry just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Dumbledore spoke up, “I was a close friend to the Potter family, Harry’s parents, and grandparents. I have also spoken with many of Harry’s friends and their families. Together we think that it would be wise for Harry to live with the Grangers until such time as his Aunt Petunia is able. If that is acceptable to you Harry?”
Harry looked over at Dumbledore. He would have said the Weasleys, not the Grangers. He liked Hermione very much, but he had never spent anytime with her parents. For that matter, Hermione hadn’t spent much time with them in the last couple of years either. Harry looked more intently at Dumbledore, who gave him a slight nod with a stern look asking him to agree.
Harry was confused, but recovered quickly. He looked at Dr. Granger and then at Mrs. Weasley. They both were smiling and nodding at him. “That’s all right by me, if it’s all right with the Grangers?”
Dr. Granger said smiling happily, “We would love to have you Harry. You can stay with us for the rest of the summer.”
“Well all right then, it’s settled,” the social worker said brightly, “I’ll get the paperwork going. I’ll need you to fill out some forms for me Dr. Granger. If you walk down to the nurse’s station with me I’ll get a copy of your driver’s license and I’ll get the background check started.” They left the room together.
Harry looked up at Dumbledore and asked. “Why do you want me to go to Hermione’s parents? I figured that I’d go back to the Burrow?
Dumbledore sighed, “Arthur and Molly Weasley cannot act as your guardians in the Muggle world, Harry. They don’t exist in the Muggle world.”
Mrs. Weasley put in, “We don’t have Muggle identification cards, or Muggle money. We don’t receive Muggle post or have a Muggle feletone. The Muggles have many requirements for becoming the legal guardian of a minor. Arthur and I wouldn’t qualify. We can’t even prove to the Muggles that Arthur has a job. The Grangers and Arthur and I decided yesterday that they will act as your guardians in the muggle world, but that you’ll spend the rest of the summer at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, with us. Arthur and I would love nothing more for you to come live with us permanently, but you have a life in the Muggle world, and need a Muggle guardian.”
“I never really had a life in the Muggle world. My only connections to it are the Dursleys. I meant what I said to the doctor, as soon as I turn seventeen, I’m leaving and I’m not coming back.”
For some reason that made Mrs. Weasley look very sad. “They’re your family Harry, families are supposed to stick together.”
Harry thought for a moment and then could have kicked himself. That is exactly what Percy had just done to her, left and never came back.
Harry looked down, ashamed, “I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley.”
“It’s okay Harry. I’m sure the Dursley’s love you in their own way.”
“Well, maybe,” Harry conceded out loud, but in his head he thought, ‘but I seriously doubt it.’