Lupin sat motionless in the hospital. He had his hands joined on his knees, head lowered. He willed, he hoped and prayed for Harry to survive. He felt someone drop into the chair at his side and pull one of his hands into hers. It was Tonks. She intertwined her fingers with his, leaned close and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and proceeded to wait also.
Dumbledore appeared on the corridor emerging from Harry’s room, deep in discussion with the Head Healer. His face was lined with worry. Lupin didn’t like that look.
He approached the waiting group and seemed to be trying to think of the best way of phrasing what he needed to say. When he did finally begin to speak, his words were heavy and spoken slowly.
“Harry is still critical. It has been hours since the attack and he is still showing no signs of cognitive ability. The healers tell me that they can discern no physical injury. Mentally, it would appear that his brain is still functioning. They are worried that he does not seem to be responding to light. He shows fierce resistance to opening his eyes and when he does, his pupils do not appear to react normally. He has not attempted speech and while they believe he can hear what is going on, even this, they are unsure about. They fear that emotionally, he has been injured to such a degree that his senses have simply shut down.
“They do not know if this condition is reversible or not at present,” Dumbledore finished quietly, his eyes sweeping the assembled group. He watched their faces as what he had said began to settle in their senses.
He understood their feelings, his being the same. He didn’t know what other hope to offer them. He knew they were hurting for their friend. So was he. But he also had the greater burden of worry. The only chance the wizarding world had of defeating Voldemort was lying in a state close to death. It was cataclysmic. Dumbledore watched the group knowing that Harry’s death would inevitably lead to the deaths of all gathered there, including him. But he did not burden them with this thought at that time.
Lupin’s hands were shaking. He had tried to still them repeatedly, but couldn’t master the shakes that spread up from his arms. Tonks was still holding his hand tightly but he didn’t even seem to notice. She too was shaking. She struggled to gather her thoughts but seemed unable to. She suddenly felt very young. Too young to be sitting here listening to the diagnosis of one who was so much younger than even she was.
Mr and Mrs Weasley had quietly left the group to be with Ron. He had begun to wake up. While he was extremely weak and still in need of medical attention, it had been a huge relief to all concerned that he still possessed his soul. They stood looking down at their pale son lying sleeping.
“If he hadn’t got there on time,” Molly mumbled. “If Harry hadn’t got there on time Arthur. I can’t even imagine. How would I have coped? How would any of us have survived without Ron?”
Arthur placed his arm around this wife’s shoulders nodding slowly. ‘How will any of us survive without Harry,’ he thought silently.
Ginny hadn’t moved. From the moment she had arrived at the hospital with her mother and Hermione, she hadn’t moved. Hermione had been whisked off after some whispered words between Mrs Weasley and a Healer to be checked over.
Ginny had sunk to the ground outside the door that she had seen Harry disappear through. Lupin had still carried him in his arms even though Harry was almost as tall as he was now. He hadn’t seemed to want to let go even when the healers told them that they would take over. Then he had wandered out looking lost and taken a seat beside where Ginny sat on the floor. He had dropped a hand to her shoulder and let it rest there. She had raised her hand and placed it in his. They had sat in silence.
Now Dumbledore had finished speaking. Any hope that they had held for Harry had seemed to dissipate. Harry was still alive but as Ginny slowly scanned the faces of those sitting and standing around her, she saw the hope slip away like water through one’s fingers.
Harry was still alive. He was alive.
Her brained kept repeating the words. Any time she found her memory wandering back to what had happened on the third floor, the words reverberated again, pushing away the memories. Harry is still alive.
It had felt like she was watching someone else. In fact it had felt like everything in the last few hours had happened to someone else. She remembered her mother disapparating to fetch her father and Remus. She remembered her mother warning her not to leave the kitchen.
She remembered taking her wand and beginning the frightening journey alone to the third floor.
She remembered the anguished whisper she had heard as she approached the open door and the blinding flash of light “Expecto Patronum” She remembered the feeling of fear when she realised that she had just heard the spell summon a Patronus to banish Dementors.
She had stood at the open door watching Harry collapse to the floor, his glazed expressionless eyes gazing at the ceiling, his wand falling useless by his side.
Ginny squeezed her eyes shut to dispel the image and mentally shook herself. Harry is still alive.