Chapter Text
(The Prompt List, SKIP IF YOU WANT TO AVOID SPOILERS:)
“Excuse me, what?”, I stared at my brother in wide eyed disbelief as he suggested something mostly out of character for him.
“That’s what I said!”, Weasley hollered from his slumped position in one of those padded chairs made for visitors.
Granger thumped his arm from the adjacent chair. Shushing him rather pointedly after he yelped like a wounded animal. He clutched his arm as if it’d taken the brunt of a rather nasty hex. Shooting her an offended look while massaging the targeted appendage.
“It’s a rather standard practice, Dear. Perfectly safe with an intermittent success rate.”, Madam Strout was quick to reassure me.
Flipping through that clipboard of hers with a practiced sort of calm. Never once making eye contact as she dropped a word like ‘intermittent’, and expected that to convince me.
“So it might not work?”, I frowned.
A seed of dread and anxiety taking root in my gut as I glanced over at the occupied bed. The ONLY occupied bed in this room. The only bed in this room period. A permanent room, private for patients with money they won’t be using any time soon. Other than to pay for accommodation here. It gave the illusion of comfort. As if anything about the Janus Thickey ward was comforting. Madam Strout finally glanced up, a frown matching my own. Her brows knitting up in a show of sympathy as she caught my wandering eyes. I wondered how often she made that sort of face. Seeing as this was the floor of St. Mungo’s that dealt with permanent spell damage, probably quite often.
“There’s, a chance, yes. The potion isn’t foolproof. It’s all dependent on the both of you. Some volunteers have a harder time grounding themselves than others. While some patients are too stubborn in their refusal to wake up. No harm will come to either of you for trying though, and it would give you a chance to say goodbye if..”, Madam trailed off meaningfully.
My heart rate ricocheted. My eyes widening in a panic.
“What do you mean goodbye?!”, I yelped out.
Whipping around to glare at Granger when she shushed me for my volume like we were in a bloody library.
“I thought his parents were paying for the room?”, Harry’s tone was urgent as he jumped into the conversation.
I nodded emphatically. Desperate for more clarification on the matter as the Head Healer just stared on with those annoyingly soft and understanding eyes of hers.
“They are Dears, but we need all the space we can get given the freshness of the War. This floor is for permanent, but also serious spell damage. We need to prioritize those who have a chance at some form of recovery, and a decent quality of life.”, her voice was just as soft as her eyes.
Remorseful and pleading for us to understand. I sunk to my knees silently, grounding myself on the cool hard floor.
“Neville’s parents have been here for nearly two decades now.”, my brother’s voice was clipped and accusatory.
He couldn’t fathom the situation either. I wasn’t really paying attention to what his little buddies behind me were doing. If they looked crestfallen or uncaring at the thought of another classmate dying at St. Mungo’s. Perhaps they were numb to it all now. Weasley was as stone faced as ever at Lavender’s funeral while Granger emptied an entire box of tissues with her sniffling. He must’ve run out of tears after Fred’s. Harry on the other hand is always numb in the moment nowadays. It only crashes down on him when he’s lying in bed at night, unable to close his eyes without seeing the faces of all those lost. Maybe that’s why he’s so fired up about this now. This is his chance to help save one more person, he’s not too late.
“Their problems are mental. They can sustain themselves without magical intervention. Your classmate on the other hand, is slowly depleting his magical core in an effort of self preservation. He was hit with some awfully dark magic, you see, and normally that would be mostly treatable.”, Strout sighed out as her kitten heels clacked over to his chart at the foot of his bed.
Her clipboard tucked into her armpit while she flipped through the loose leaf parchment there, as if she hasn’t most likely already poured over those findings a few times over.
“But?”, my brave brother pressed her to continue thankfully.
I didn’t have the energy to beg her to finish her explanation. I was still on the floor. I felt like I was dreaming and I didn’t know what to do with myself. Out of everyone, he was supposed to be the one person spared from it all. That was the comfort I took during the Battle when he rushed off, and I saw neither hide nor hair of him afterwards. He was supposed to be in his lush home with his parents, perfectly safe and brooding while awaiting the short throwaway trial the Ministry insisted on. Needless to say, it was like being side-swept by a bludger after hearing otherwise. After Hare Bear rushed me to St. Mungo’s to see his condition with my own eyes while giving me the abridged version of their plan.
“Any healing we could administer would just deteriorate within the week if we can’t get his core to return to dormancy.”, she dropped his chart back into it’s slot with a thud of finality.
“That’s why you want to wake him up.”, Granger hummed out.
Rising and coming to stand by Harry’s free side, ever the supporter she appeared to be.
“Precisely. If we could just get his core to stall for a moment, we could induce a magical coma that would allow for his body AND core to recover.”
“And if we do nothing?”, Weasley had the stones to ask from his newfound standing position near us.
I jumped up, suddenly incensed and ready to shake him for such a question before my brother grabbed me. Holding me back as I shot his best friend the nastiest glare I could manage. He tried to hide behind The Boss Lady— glad to know he saw me as a threat, but she shoved him away. Clearly not on his side about the matter, or perhaps finding his question rather bald and tactless.
“His core deteriorates until it can’t support his body any longer.”, Strout ignores our antics and stays on track.
Taking Red’s question seriously and laying out the ugly reality of the matter.
“Can’t you wait until his core stops supporting him to put him in a coma?”, Hare tried.
I relaxed in his grip until he let go of me. Appreciating that he was trying, and that he didn’t let me be so overcome with emotion that I did something I’d regret.
“His core is the only thing keeping him alive right now. I fear with even heavy monitoring, one second without is all that it would take.”
“But you want to wake him up from the coma that’s keeping him alive?”, Weasley drawled.
I shot him another look, but remained where I was. Wasn’t he listening at all earlier?
“His core should still be doing damage control in the background while he’s awake long enough for us to take over. It’d still be aiding him, however weak it is now, as opposed to being left to unravel on his own.”, Madam was rather patient with us all things considered.
In my opinion.
“So if we do this and it works, you save him. If we do this and it doesn’t work, it’ll be the same as us not trying at all?”, I finally speak up.
“Yes Dear, that’s correct.”
“Why me?”
“I suggested you.”, my brother revealed.
My eyebrows jumped to my hairline as I looked to him for any signs of sarcasm.
“It’s been proven that familiar faces have a better chance of getting through to patients rather than any of our staff. The stronger your relationship is, the better.”, Strout pulled from her knowledge of the potion’s history.
“So again, why me? If that’s the case, why not his parents? Or you know, any of his actual friends?”, I scoffed out.
I didn’t hesitate due to any reluctance to help, but out of a fear of this being handled incorrectly. I wanted— NEEDED this to work, and to do that we needed the best odds possible. Sending me in dwindled those odds significantly. I crossed my arms pointedly, waiting for a good explanation from my brother. Who was suddenly making life or death medical decisions for someone he didn’t even like. Hare Bear cringed apologetically.
“Well um, you see—“
“The Ministry’s worried this is an elaborate coverup right before the trial. No former Death Eaters, or their children, are allowed to volunteer.”, The Boss Lady jumped in with her frank delivery.
At least Granger wasn’t letting anyone beat around the bush with it. Thank God for small miracles.
“That’s the stupidest—“
“It does make a bit of sense.”, Harry interjected.
I gasped with a hand clapped over my chest in betrayal.
“How can you agree with the Ministry about ANYTHING?”, I choked out.
Earning myself an eye roll. As if the Ministry hasn’t been screwing us over for as long as I can remember. Not to mention being borderline useless.
“They’re under new management you know.”, his rebuttal was weak.
My deadpan look told him so.
“Alright fine, how’s this then? Regardless of what I think, Madam Strout won’t give him the potion until the Ministry signs off on it. Pitching a fit won’t change that.”
“You’re ‘The Chosen One’.”
“That’ll only get me so far.”
“...”
“Okay even if it WAS enough, by the time we negotiated back and forth about the conditions it might be too late.”
I furrowed my brows at that.
“Too late? Wasn’t he just admitted a few days ago?”
“The potion lasts for three days.”, Madam felt it prudent to step in with that information.
I turned to her, my brother momentarily forgotten.
“Is that plenty of time, or not enough? I can’t really tell.”
“For how much time his body has left? It should be plenty if we work quickly. Unfortunately there’s a chance he could take a turn if his physical condition starts to decline quicker than it is now. Getting through to him is another story. As I’ve said, it’s up to the pair of you whether it’s successful or not.”
“No pressure there.”, I grumbled.
Harry snickered next to me. Glad he’s able to find a smidgen of humor in this.
“Again, why me? Out of the entire school I wasn’t exactly anywhere near his favourite person list.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder, I knew who it was before giving him my attention. He looked calm, assured. The exact opposite of me despite being his twin sister.
“Everyone’s busy in some shape or form. Planning the rebuild of the castle, prepping for the trial, mourning deeply. If we weren’t bogged down with all three I’d have suggested one of us.”, he threw his head towards his friends for support.
Despite the ‘reserved to involve themselves’ sorts of expressions on their faces they still nodded all the same. I let out a snort. Imagining Granger or Red of all people begging our wayward classmate to wake up. I think he’d stay under purely out of spite. I don’t say any of this though, but judging by Hare’s expression he knows what I’m thinking.
“Do his parents know?”
He nodded. Assumingly they either approved of his choice, or were desperate enough to try regardless. It was most likely the latter.
“Alright fine, brief me up here then. How exactly do we go about saving Draco Malfoy?”