Ellie Newt, a relatively new Healer at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, was relaxing at the hall counter with a well-deserved cup of coffee. She was tired and ready for a good night’s sleep, wearily telling a coworker about her busy day.
“...Jacobs still has those dentures clamped around his leg, the poor dear, but he says the pain is doing so much better. And two De-Hexings in one day, I’m fair exhausted, but it was worth it, seeing the look on old Aggie’s face when we got her back to normal...”
Her friend, an older woman called Martha, nodded sympathetically, speaking with a thick Scottish accent. “Aye, the poor soul, I saw her with those tins and bits of metal stuck all over her. Magnetism, wasn’t it? But the day’s almost over, once our shift is up you can have a nice, quiet ””
A door down the hall suddenly burst open, and a red-haired teenage boy sprinted out, panting heavily. He reached the desk and slumped against it, looking at the two startled women. “Old ” Old Harold Aiken... Room Seventeen... He’s gone mad!” the boy gasped. “I’d just... come in... to visit... He was asleep... Woke up and... started shouting and... he’s completely gone off it!”
Sure enough, as Ellie and Martha pricked their ears, they could hear loud shrieks coming from Room Seventeen. Harold Aiken was in the hospital for hallucinations, and the two Healers believed he’d “seen” something again. They immediately grabbed their wands and ran into his room.
Behind them, the red-head could suddenly breathe normally and easily straightened, whispering into his watch, “It worked. D’you hear me? It’s worked. We’ve got five minutes at most.”
Two rooms down the hall, a group of kids waited just inside the door, listening intently to the commotion outside.
“Right,” Harry muttered to Hermione, Luna, and Neville. “Ron says we have five minutes until the Healers realize what’s going on. Let’s go, hurry.” They slowly began to sneak out the door, leaving an empty room behind.
Every step of it had been Hermione’s idea. Ron had crept into a room and shocked a harmless old man into awakening with hysterical screams. They’d felt slightly guilty about that, but knew it was their best chance of getting out of the hospital. The man had shouted, over and over, “A red demon! A patchy red demon’s come into my room to drag me into the abyss! Get it out, get it out, get it out!” It was only a matter of time before the Healers put two and two together and realized that Ron was the “patchy red demon.” They had until then to quietly sneak away. If it worked, Harry would be able to both get away from the Ministry and continue his quest to destroy Voldemort’s Horcruxes.
“Three down, three to go,” Harry murmured to himself as they slid down the hall, hardly daring to breathe. “Halfway there, Dumbledore...”
The four friends reached the counter undetected and were joined by Ron. “You like my acting skills?” he whispered, grinning.
“Overdid it a little, don’t you think?” Harry whispered back.
Ron made a face. “Hey, I never planned to be an actor anyway.”
They had just rung for the elevator at the end of the hall when the women came out of Harold Aiken’s room. “You!” the younger one shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at Ron. “You dirty little snake! What are you ” Is that a patient?!” She had spotted Harry.
“Come on, come on!” Harry smacked the elevator button again, and at last the doors slid open. They all piled in and Harry pounded on the “close” button. The Healers were feet away now. A vein throbbed in the older lady’s neck, much like Uncle Vernon’s. They both looked extremely angry, though they couldn’t really be blamed for that.
The doors slid together right in the women’s faces, and the elevator slowly began to move downward. Ron slumped against the wall. “Never again,” he mumbled, shaking his head tiredly. “Never, ever again.” Hermione smiled for the first time since her fight with Ron.
Harry grinned, watching the numbers above the door flash. Four... three... two... one. They got to the ground floor without being stopped. The bell rang, the doors opened...
...and Robert Brooks was gaping at them from the outside. “Harry Potter?” he gasped. His eyes darted about, taking in the guilty looks on their faces, their disheveled appearances, and Harry’s swollen hand. “You’re trying to sneak away, aren’t you?” he said accusingly. He planted his feet in the door, folding his arms stubbornly. “Well, you’re not getting past me.”
The five looked around. The room they’d entered, the waiting room, was completely empty but for them and Brooks. What do we do? Harry wondered.
Ron decided for him. Ignoring Hermione’s shouts of “No, Ron, don’t you dare!”, he jumped at Brooks and mercilessly pulled him to the floor. There was a brief scuffle, in which more than one fist flew, and Ron stood the victor, grinning as he pocketed the young Healer’s wand.
Brooks’s face was now decorated with two extremely black eyes and a colorful bruise forming on his forehead. His nose also seemed to be broken; at least, it hung very crookedly from his face. Ron, on the other hand, sported no battle scars except for a scrape along his left cheek, which Harry suspected had come from the floor rather than from Brooks.
Ron grinned again. It looked a bit painful. “That’s what comes of having five older brothers; you learn quite a few good fighting moves living with them for seventeen years.”
Hermione discreetly tried to help Brooks up, but Ron snapped, “Leave him alone, Hermione.” He pointed his wand at the young man. “Well, Brooks, it seems you’ve become a prisoner of war. I suppose we’re stuck with you for a while, so pay attention: I don’t like you, you don’t like me. Just keep your distance and come quietly, and your face might not get any worse than it is now. Got it?”
There was a pause as Brooks spat a bloody tooth onto the polished floor. “I got it,” he rasped. He glared up at Ron. “But if you were trying to get me on your side by beating me up, I must say you’ve got a funny way of building a friendship.”
Ron’s ears turned dangerously red. “I don’t want you as a friend, Brooks.”
After their tense exchange, they all filed out of the hospital, one at a time. First came Brooks, held at wandpoint by Ron, who was no more than three steps behind and still looked flushed and angry. Then there was Harry, keeping an eye on Ron. Hermione came after him, nervously biting her lip, and alternately glaring at Ron and shooting glances at Brooks. Neville walked after her, looking dumbstruck by Ron’s fight with the young Healer. Luna was last and trailed behind, but kept darting to the others in front. Everyone was very quiet.
Finally, after they’d walked several blocks through the abandoned London streets away from the hospital, Harry deemed them safe from pursuit and broke the awkward silence. “Ron... What exactly are you planning to do with Brooks? You know he can’t be with us the whole time... There’s too much...”
“Yeah, I know,” mumbled Ron. He sulkily stuffed his wand into his pocket after giving Brooks one last poke.
Harry expected Brooks to Disapparate immediately, but the young man’s curiosity had obviously been aroused. He also seemed relieved to be free of Ron’s merciless prodding.
Brooks touched his black eyes and winced. “Ouch. It’s a good thing I’m a Healer, eh?” He chuckled feebly, but when nobody joined in he fell silent. “Um... Can I have my wand back, please?”
Harry nodded at Ron, who made an odd gargling noise in his throat as he handed the wand over. Brooks took it and waved it in a crooked circle around his nose, which straightened with a sharp cracking sound. He grimaced.
“Alright, em... you can go back now, Brooks,” Harry said. “Sorry for the trouble, Ron can be a bit... overenthusiastic.”
“Yes,” said Brooks, grinning slightly. He made no move to return to the hospital, however. Harry finally decided to keep walking, hoping that he would let them go, but as they began to walk again he was acutely aware of Brooks’s presence. He looked back and saw him shuffling along, just behind Luna and Neville.
Harry stopped again, exasperated. “I said ””
“I heard you,” Brooks said. He bit his lip, then crossed his arms determinedly. “Look, I don’t know where you’re all going, or why you’re traveling in a protective little group like this, but I’d like to know... I’m not leaving till you explain some of all this, and why you had to ‘escape’ St. Mungo’s, especially with your hand still injured.”
Harry lifted his wand in his right hand, wiggling it a little. Even as he did so, a sharp little knife of pain shot up his arm. “Does this look injured to you?” he asked through gritted teeth. He quickly switched the wand to his left hand and cleared his throat. “Anyway, it’s none of your business where we’re headed.” He turned away.
“It is since I’m the one who has to explain your sudden and violent departure to the doctors.”
Harry sighed impatiently. Persistent thing, isn’t he? “Fine. I had to leave for two reasons: One, to get the Ministry of Magic off my tail; and two...” How to explain his Horcrux hunt without giving too much away? “And two, because I have some things I need to do, some extremely important things that could change the way this war against Voldemort ends. If I can’t take care of these... things, him and his Death Eaters are definitely going to win.”
Not surprisingly, Brooks flinched at hearing Voldemort’s name, but looked awed nonetheless. “So then... So it’s true?” he asked hesitantly. “I mean... Then all that happened in the Ministry two years ago, in the Department of Mysteries, that really happened? And you, you really are the ” the ‘Chosen One’?”
“No,” Harry said quickly. The last thing he wanted was to have Brooks calling him the Chosen One all the time. “I mean, no, that ‘Chosen One’ stuff was just a mass of rubbish that some bored journalist decided would make for a good story. But yes, the Ministry...” He suddenly had to force the words through a lump that had formed in his throat. His mind forced him to watch Sirius fall through the veil all over again... “Yes, all that did happen.”
An expression of amazement crossed Brooks’s face. Harry could just imagine him going through all the Ministry rumors he’d ever heard about Harry that had just been proven true. “Wow...” he breathed. “It did...” He shook his head, and after a moment the important look came back to his face. “Well, be that as it may, no one is allowed to just run out of St. Mungo’s without a certified Healer’s permission. I understand your urgency to continue your noble quest, whatever it is, but this just isn’t d ””
Harry gave him a look, cutting off his protests. Then Harry smiled, very nicely, and said politely, “Aren’t you a certified Healer?”
The question seemed to catch Brooks off guard. “Well... yes, I suppose I am, but...” he blustered, realizing he’d been caught in his own trap. “I didn’t mean...”
“That’s what you said,” Harry said pleasantly. “Are you or are you not a fully certified Healer?”
Brooks ducked his head. “Yes,” he muttered.
For a minute Harry almost felt sorry for him, but by that time it was too late to turn back. Ron, eager for the chance to torment the young man some more, had taken up Harry’s train of thought. “Well, then, you can give him permission to leave,” he suggested, grinning wickedly.
Brooks glanced back at Hermione, obviously hoping for her help. Ron watched him, and a dark, thundercloud-look descended over his face. His hands twitched dangerously, and Harry, eyeing them, decided it high time to take matters back into his own hands. He was reluctant to threaten Brooks, as he seemed a rather nice person, but felt the present circumstances demanded it. “Look, Brooks... Robert. We’d really like to get out of here as soon as possible, so if you could just tell the nice people at the hospital you gave me your permission to leave, I’d be really grateful. If, though, you find it difficult to promise that, I’m afraid we’ll have no choice but to...” He paused, trying to find the right word in an already delicate situation. “...incapacitate you until we are far enough away from St. Mungo’s.”
He let the Healer’s imagination do the rest. Brooks blanched. Hermione shot Harry a sample of her death glare, which he ignored. Too much depended on the next words of Robert Brooks for him to concentrate on anything but. He waited tensely.
Everyone in the street let out an audible sigh of relief as Brooks said shortly, “Fine. I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to cover for you if you and your band are discovered and followed.” He shook his head. “By allowing you to leave like this, I’ve already put my career at enough risk. Please don’t ask me to do more.”
“Fair enough,” said Harry, pleased that their negotiations had gone so well. “Thanks a lot, Brooks.”
Only one person was not happy. “No!” Hermione shouted, jogging up to Brooks. “No, Robert, you don’t have to do this... You could come with us!” Behind her, Ron glowered. “You could come with us, we could use the extra help, and a Healer, that’d be wonderful! We could ””
Brooks shook his head, placing his finger on Hermione’s lips to quiet her. “No,” he said softly. “No. I’m sorry, Hermione, but... I can’t. I would like to, you know I would, but I’m needed back. Besides...” He looked up and grinned slightly in Ron’s direction. “You have others here,” he murmured to Hermione, so quietly Harry could barely hear. “And... I think you know it.” He smiled in a somewhat pained way, then released Hermione. “I’m glad to have met you, Hermione Granger, but here our paths must divide. I ” I’m very sorry.”
Hermione stepped away from him as though she’d been stung. She shook her head disbelievingly, searching Brooks’s eyes, then turned away and fell to the back of their group, hugging herself and staring down at the sidewalk.
Harry’s respect for the young man increased. Letting her go like that... And for Ron yet! That’s just... He knew Ron would never speak of him in a bad light again. He thought. He hadn’t really liked Brooks at first, but the longer he knew him the more he saw what a kind and perceptive person he was. Harry wondered how many more sides his personality had, then reflected sadly that they would most likely never know.
He stepped toward Brooks, hand outstretched. Brooks took it, looking very surprised at the gesture. “I’m happy I met you, Robert. I only wish it had been under better circumstances. Goodbye, Robert.”
They shook, a broad smile slowly growing on Brooks’s face. “Thank you... Harry. I hope we meet again.”
Neville and Luna said their goodbyes, then Ron came forward. A guarded look immediately sprang to the Healer’s face.
Ron stepped in front of Brooks with a stony expression. Then he offered his hand. “Shake.” Brooks took it, looking very bewildered.
Ron shook his hand, slowly at first, then more vigorously. “I ” Listen, Brooks, I’m... I’m really sorry for... before. I mean... You’re a really good guy. I’d be proud to call you my friend.” He grinned. “Truce?”
Brooks grinned back, his look of astonishment quickly fading. “...Truce. Thank you, Ron Weasley.”
“No,” Ron murmured. “Thank you. For... you know.”
The grin stretched wider. Brooks ruefully touched his black eyes. “Yes, well... I’m not about to get in the way of someone with such a mean punch.” He stepped back and hesitated, glancing at Hermione, who still wouldn’t look at him. “Alright... Goodbye... And Harry? Good luck with whatever it is you’ve got to do. I hope we see each other again, someday.”
He took a step and bit his lip. “...Hermione?”
She came back and lifted her tearstained face to him. He squeezed her shoulder in a comforting way. “Listen to your heart, Hermione,” he whispered. “It’s no use having a brilliant mind when you don’t follow your heart. Listen to what it has to say. There’s someone great out there for you... Just let yourself find him.”
“Oh, Robert...” Hermione hugged him tightly. “Goodbye.”
Brooks gently pulled himself away, stepping back and smiling at them all. He winked at Harry. “You have my permission ” as a certified Healer ” to leave St. Mungo’s. Goodbye, and good luck, everyone!”
The handsome young man stared hard at them, as if imprinting their faces into his memory. Then he smiled again, twirled in a little circle, and Disapparated, back to the hospital and out of their lives forever.
The five were silent as they continued their trek on the outskirts of London. Each was absorbed in his or her own thoughts, and for once Harry was glad for the silence. It gave him time to rearrange his own jumbled thoughts.
Now that he was gone, Harry sort of missed Robert Brooks, though they hadn’t known him very long. Harry knew from experience how hard it was to let go of someone like Brooks had Hermione. He had obviously seen how Ron had reacted... how jealous he could get. It got almost worse than with Krum!
He flicked his gaze over to Ron. He was walking with a glazed, thoughtful look on his face. Every once in a while he would wander away from the others, to be gently guided back by Neville, who’d been keeping an eye on him. Harry didn’t need three tries to guess what Ron was thinking about.
Harry honestly hoped they ran into Brooks again. He could prove a much-needed ally in the battle ahead. His abilities as a Healer would come in handy, too, as Harry doubted they would all make it through to the end without any casualties. In the last week alone, they’d already lost one...
The image of Ginny’s final moments sprang unbidden to his mind. Harry pushed it back forcefully, sealing himself against the painful memories. He looked up and was surprised to see that they’d already gone at least three-quarters of a mile.
He looked round at the others. Luna and Hermione were huddled as they walked, whispering animatedly. Ron had come out of his stupor and was striding along confidently, a spring in his step that Harry had never seen before. He seemed much happier than he ought to have, considering the circumstances, but that was fine with Harry. In fact, it was wonderful. As long as there aren’t any fights going on, everything’s great, Harry thought.
Harry fell back to walk beside Ron, who was now practically skipping. “What’s put you in such a fine mood, mate? You look like someone put springs in your shoes and forgot to tell you about it.”
Ron didn’t laugh, but stopped bouncing. He regarded Harry thoughtfully. For a few minutes they walked on in silence. Then Ron said, “Nice guy, Brooks, wasn’t he?”
Harry looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Very, considering you just about smashed his face to bits.”
Ron didn’t seem to have heard him. He stared off into the distance as he continued, “I expected him to want to stay with us, with Hermione, I mean, like she said... I didn’t think he’d do something like he did, just... letting go, like that. I mean, I know he didn’t know her very long, but still... He seemed to know... He was really nice, Brooks was. A good guy. Really weird.”
Their procession turned a corner. “He actually reminded me a lot of Percy. You know, I expected to hate him. He could act like a real prat, sometimes.”
Harry wasn’t sure whether they were now talking about Percy or Brooks. He decided it was Brooks, but suddenly Ron seemed to switch conversation targets.
“Did we tell you Percy made up with our family? I think he’s come round and finally accepted it, that Mum and Dad were right and the Ministry was wrong. We were really surprised... I think he liked Scrimgeour even more than he did Fudge. We didn’t know if he’d ever come back. Then again, I suppose we didn’t expect him to even come to Ginny’s... funeral. I guess that was enough to bring him back, though. He told us that he’d never go away like that again... Think he’s scared of losing anyone else.
“Harry?”
“Mmm?” Harry shot back to the present, away from the memory of Ginny’s funeral, of Percy and his rose...
Ron looked at him. Harry realized they’d completely gotten away from the subject of Brooks, and dreaded what he knew must be coming next.
“Harry, I ” I know how hard it was for you. Believe me, I don’t think anyone knows better. Ginny ” she was my sister. My only sister, Harry! So you can imagine...” Ron seemed to be on the verge of tears. “Harry, I still dream of her at night! I dream she’s alive, perfectly normal dreams, and it doesn’t feel weird at all! Then suddenly I see the fire, and the Death Eaters coming in...”
Harry swallowed. How had their conversation taken such a turn for the worst? Ron was now talking about something Harry had fought to avoid thinking about. But now the memories came back in full force, battering his newly broken heart to pieces.
Ginny in the burning house. Ginny, smiling at him. Ginny on the lawn, breathing her last. The moment of pure desperation, when Harry felt he would have done anything, anything, to get her back, to save her. The way Ginny looked, just before her heart stopped. Her final words to him, only to him, the words he had unknowingly ignored.
“Don’t forget me, Harry, will you? Please... whatever happens, don’t forget...”
“I won’t,” Harry had promised. “I’ll never forget you, Ginny. I’ll remember you forever, I promise...”
He’d promised. He’d told Ginny, beautiful, sweet Ginny... a lie. He hadn’t wanted to remember, and so had pulled away from the memories that caused him so much pain. They hurt. So he had put Ginny in a box, pushing her away in the deepest, darkest corner of his mind where he rarely went and would never have to go. Every time the memories leaked out, he was there, stuffing them back in, refusing to look at them for longer than it took to shove them away again. He had broken his promise.
Oh, Ginny! Harry cried silently. I’ve tried, I’ve tried so hard to forget you! I’ve done all I could to leave you behind me. And I promised... I’m so sorry, Ginny!
He let the memories wash over him, slowly mending his shattered life. The way she could make everyone laugh without really trying... How her smile lit up her entire face... Her fiery temper... Everything that had made Ginny, Ginny... Oh, how he’d loved her! I miss you so much, Ginny...
Tears streamed down his face. Through the blurry curtain of his misery he could just make out Ron, looking thoroughly miserable. “I’m sorry, Harry,” he whispered. Moisture made his eyes seem unnaturally bright. “I know you... probably didn’t want this dragged up again, but I just felt... I miss her too.”
But you didn’t promise t remember, Harry wanted to say. You weren’t the one who got her out of the house, who saw her die in my arms! And I broke my promise... Oh, Ginny, please forgive me!
He cried for a while more, tears staining the street he semiconsciously walked through. Then, all at once, a sense of peace came over him, more than he’d felt in weeks. He knew everything would turn out alright, and, though he didn’t know where Ginny was, he felt he knew without a doubt that she had forgiven him. And with this reassuring knowledge, Harry let go of the guilt and regret that had always lingered with her memories. He let go, and gave his tired mind the peace it had lacked ever since Voldemort’s return, all those years ago. Everything was... fine.
They walked on in silence. Ron’s admission had helped them both, even though he hadn’t known it. “Thanks, Ron,” Harry said quietly.
Thank you, Ginny. Thank you so, so much...
I will remember.