Advent '10 - December 12th
December 12th - 13 days to go
Harry awoke with Ash's tongue shoved up his nose. He jerked and sneezed, sending the little puffball flying off the pillow with a startled squeak.
Wriggling his nose, Harry tried to raise a hand to rub away the weird sensation but found he couldn't move from the position he was in - lying on his front.
"Wha-" he croaked out before dissolving into coughs. He swallowed a few times and cleared his throat.
Ash hopped back onto the pillow, right in front of his face and waved its tongue at him.
"If you stick your tongue up my nose again Ash, I don't think our relationship as it is can continue."
Ash squeaked.
"You don't understand. I feel violated."
Ash squeaked again.
"It's not me. It's you."
Ash gave out a sad trill and nudged at Harry's nose.
Harry held out for all of two seconds. "Oh Ash," he sighed, "I could never stay mad at you. But in the future please warn me when you're going to do weird things to my body when I'm sleeping."
A snort came from Harry's right. Unable to move much Harry spent three minutes trying to turn his head to the other side without accidentally smothering himself.
It was difficult but he managed it eventually, only to see Fred sitting by his bed with an open book on his lap.
"Hello." Fred grinned at him.
"You know," Harry said conversationally, "you could have moved and saved me the bother."
Fred shrugged, "You looked like you were having fun."
"If I could move," Harry scowled at him, "I would hit you right now."
"No you wouldn't."
Harry sighed, "You're probably right." He wriggled his nose again as it still felt weird. "Speaking of not being able to move…"
"Yeah?"
"Why can't I?"
Harry was only a little wary when instead of answering straight away, Fred grimaced.
"What?" He asked, "What's wrong with me."
Fred rubbed the back of his head. "You were pretty burned up, Harry. And the beam falling on you didn't help."
Harry's eyes widened. "Am I paralysed?" He asked, starting to hyperventilate.
Fred looked at him weirdly, "Er, no. Otherwise you wouldn't have been able to walk in the burning building."
Harry blinked, "Oh yeah…"
"What I meant was, that the beam pinned you in place whilst you burnt. Before I got off the flame freezing charm."
"What happened?" Harry managed to get out calmly, despite his swirling emotions.
"We didn't know if they would be able to follow us once we had apparated. They seemed to be rather busy with the dragon but…well, you never know, eh?"
Fred paused and sighed. "We got you back to the hotel and shoved a pain relieving potion and a dreamless sleep down your throat. We were in two minds whether or not we should try and fix you up there or if we should skip the country and get you fixed up somewhere new. Somewhere safe."
"What did you do?" Harry asked, curious despite himself.
"We covered you in a cooling charm and then used the portkey. I think our arrival was the most dramatic we've ever made. They practically converged on you."
"Fred," Harry said lowly, "Where are we?"
"We're in America. Or, to be more specific, the burn ward in the Alexandria centre for magical injuries, situated in New Orleans. George is back at the hotel with the rest of our stuff, sleeping. We've been taking turns to watch over you."
There was silence as Harry took in this new information. "It was really that bad?"
"Yeah," Fred nodded, "the beam pinned your back to the burning floor and you took off most of the skin on your palms trying to shift it. Your clothes were practically melted into your skin. The medi-wizards had to restrain you when they were trying to remove them 'cos you kept jerking. That's why you can't move."
There was something left unsaid.
"And?" Harry asked when it seemed like Fred was reluctant to continue.
"Your left leg was the worst off." Fred said quietly, like if Harry couldn't hear then it wasn't real.
Harry's eyes widened, "My leg?" He asked starting to panic, "I've still got it right? It still works?"
Fred nodded and Harry let out a relieved sigh, closing his eyes.
"So what's wrong with it?"
"It was severely burnt, probably from the beam, but then the fireworks in your pocket went off."
"I thought they were just lights though."
"Well, yeah." Fred said, sounding upset, "The results are just lights, but the initial explosion is real."
Harry's breath caught in his throat. "Fred, what aren't you telling me?"
"The medi-wizards managed to get to your burns in time to heal them but…but with the explosions…Harry, I'm sorry but there's scarring. They can't do anything about it."
Harry stared at him blankly.
"Harry?"
"I want to see."
Fred looked at him nervously, "You can't."
"I want to see!" Harry shouted.
"Harry, you can't!" Fred swallowed harshly, "You have to wait until the medi-witch comes back to clear you and takes the spell off."
Harry gritted his teeth and turned his head back to the other side, where Ash tried to comfort him by nuzzling his face. Fred didn't say anything.
It was three hours later that the medi-witch came into Harry's room. He had spent the time in between dozing and listening to Fred turn pages the pages of his book.
From the regular pattern of sounds he knew that Fred wasn't really reading, just pretending too.
He probably shouldn't have yelled at him. Fred hadn't known it was going to happen and he had done everything in his power afterwards to make sure Harry was safe and cared for.
It had been a complete accident. A set of coincidences that ended badly, which really, he should have expected.
Besides, it was a little his fault. He knew the fireworks were temperamental and he still put them in his pockets anyway. If anything it would have been his fault if Fred or George got hurt.
Or maybe that was just his hero-complex kicking in. Taking the blame when there was no blame to be given.
To be honest, Harry felt kind of a jerk for acting that way to Fred, but he was frustrated and wanted to know now how bad his leg was. He was a Gryffindor! Patience was for Slytherins.
The medi-witch puttered around. Or, at least, it seemed that way to Harry whose vision was completely taken up by a squeaking Ash. He'd had to keep his eyes closed just so he wouldn't get fur in them.
"Mr Potter?"
"Er, yes?" He said, trying to crane his head around to at least look like he was paying attention to her.
"The burn paste we've put on your back has finished healing you. I'm going to take it off now; I'm just warning you that because you've had to re-grow most of your skin, it will be sensitive.
Harry nodded slightly and braced himself.
At first it didn't seem to bad; it just felt like someone was tapping on a plaster cast that covered the entirety of his back.
Then she removed a chunk of the solid paste, exposing his left shoulder to the air, and he cried out in shock as the air caressed him. He tried to squirm away from the sensation but he was still under whatever restraining spell they had cast on him
"Mr Potter?" The medi-witch said, hesitating.
"S-sorry." He got out, "Just wasn't expecting it."
"Very well, may I continue?"
"Yeah."
This time Harry gritted his teeth and spent the next half and hour trying not to cry out as more and more of his sensitive new skin was revealed.
It was even worse when the medi-witch had to run her fingers over his back to check that the skin was fine.
He didn't manage to contain his whimpers.
When the witch had confirmed that his back was absolutely fine she moved down to his left leg.
Harry had expected the skin here to be just as sensitive as his back but instead the sensations were so muted that he barely felt anything at all. Even when the medi-witch pressed her fingertips against him.
"Do you feel that, Mr Potter?"
"Um…yeah, but it's like you're touching me through layers of clothing."
The witch stood up and made a note on his chart. "Well, it's more than we expected. With injuries like this it's common to lose all feeling. If you don't lose you leg." She put the chart back at the end of his bed. "You are a very lucky person, Mr Potter."
"Yeah, I know."
She nodded. "Once you've cleaned up then you are free to leave." She made it to the door and had her hand on the doorknob when she turned back around. "Oh, and the American Ministry welcomes you to our country, Mr Potter. No matter what the morons in Britain have been saying."
Harry looked at her in confusion. "Er, thank you…?"
She smiled and left, closing the door behind her.
Harry turned to Fred, "You know what that last bit was about?"
Fred shook his head and Harry sighed. "Fred, I'm sorry I snapped at you. It's not your fault."
"But if I'd-"
"No." Harry cut him off sternly. "If it wasn't for you I have a feeling that I'd be either dead. Or as good as."
Fred just looked down at his open book. "I'm sorry. We're sorry."
Harry smiled, "And I forgive you." He levered himself up onto his hands and knees, not wanting to try rolling over. It was then that he realised that he was completely naked. He stared at himself.
"Why am I naked?"
Fred snorted, "Your clothes got burnt."
"What? All of them?"
"Yeah, they started cutting off your clothes as they rushed you to the operating room."
"You mean to tell me," Harry said blankly, "that I've flashed practically everyone in the hospital."
Fred started to chuckle, "Well, at least you don't have anything to be ashamed of?"
Harry scowled at him. "Not funny." He carefully climbed off the bed, grimacing as he felt the grit of the leftover paste rub on him. "Okay, I'm going to go take a shower to wash the rest of this off. Do you have any more clothes for me? Rushing once through this place was more than enough for me."
Fred held up the bag at his feet. "Yup. I brought them when I took over from George."
Harry nodded and tried not to blush as he quickly made his way to the bathroom.
When he was safely ensconced in the room he stared suspiciously at the shower. If air was bad on his back then he had no idea what water was going to be like.
He scowled. He was going to take a shower. A deep breath later and he had the water running, slightly cool, and had stepped in.
It was worse than air.
Harry let out a loud groan as the water ran over him. There was too much sensation; he couldn't tell if he was supposed to be writhing in pain or pleasure.
Instead he dropped to a knee and shoved his fist in his mouth to muffle his cries, his other hand clenching into a fist against to wall.
Once he had deemed himself clean he quickly shut off the water and scrambled out of the shower. Standing in the air now wasn't nearly as bad as it had been before, but the water droplets trickling down his back from his hair was. He shuddered as one trailed the entire length of his spine.
Instead he grabbed a towel and dried his hair. Only crying out once when the towel accidentally hit his shoulders.
Guess he wasn't going to be able to wear a shirt anytime soon.
It was only then that he looked down at his leg. For all his shouting at Fred beforehand, the fact that he could barely feel anything had scared him and he had refused to look at it whilst he was in the shower.
The burn looked old, thanks to the wonders of magic, but it was still there covering the side of his thigh. From his knee up to his hip was a mass of white scar tissue, the skin looked like it had been melted and reset, crinkled.
He slowly ran his fingers across it and was a little shocked to find it feel as smooth as silk, even if he couldn't feel such a light sensation.
He sighed. Well at least he still had his leg. Though he didn't really want to think at how bad it must have been if this was the best that magic could do.
His eyes widened as something occurred to him and he checked his groin, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that the burn stopped just short.
Wrapping the towel around his waist he went back into the room and rummaged through the bag Fred passed him, pulling on new boxers and jeans.
He forwent the shirt and instead cast a glamour over himself to make it look like he was wearing one instead.
At Fred's inquisitive look he just shrugged and said, "Sensitive."
Fred took back the bag and Harry put Ash back on his head and they both made their way to the apparation point in the lobby of the hospital where Fred side-along'd them back to their hotel room.
George shot straight up from the bed at the loud crack and Harry felt a little guilty at the black bags under his eyes. But that didn't stop him dodging out the way when it looked like George was going to squeeze him to death.
"Sensitive back." He offered when George looked at him, hurt.
George nodded and seemed to collapse, exhausted, back onto his bed. Fred joining him. Harry sat down on one of the others facing both of the twins, grinning as his puffskeins started to bounce onto his lap, demanding to be petted.
"I've been thinking." He said after a moment's silence. "I don't think we should do any more pranks. The last one went really wrong. Someone could have died. I…almost died…" he stopped when it felt like something lodged in his throat.
"I'm sorry, guys, but I…I feel like I just want to go home. You know?"
"Yeah," George croaked, his voice hoarse. "We were thinking something along the same lines."
"I'll go and get a portkey back to Britain this afternoon." Fred said.
"We could always carry on after Christmas." Harry offered, but as soon as he said it he knew that their journey was over.
Fred and George seemed to know as well, even as they offered him weak smiles.
Harry let his head hang. "Only one thing." He said after a pause. "We all agree not to tell Remus and your mum."
They all paled at the thought. "Agreed."
Harry smiled, standing and stretching, "Well, seeing as we're heading home tomorrow and we don't have to prepare a prank for tonight I'm going to go check out the sights!"
The twins nodded and Harry looked at them. They both looked exhausted. "Why don't you both get some sleep?" He said, "It's not like I'm going to go far."
They nodded and Harry left whilst they climbed under the covers of their beds.
The French Quarter was busy and the sun was shining down on him, despite it being fairly cool.
Harry was feeling it more than usual because he still wasn't wearing a shirt.
But he could easily ignore the cold, the sights and sounds of Jackson Square distracting him so completely that he barely flinched when people brushed up against him.
This. Was. Awesome.
He grinned as he looked around him. His eye being caught by a fortune reader sitting at a table draped in purple cloth along one of the railings. Harry usually hated any and all types of so called 'seers' but for some reason he was drawn to this one.
It may have been the line stretching away from her, but Harry's curiosity was peaked.
He quickly made his way over to see that she read palms and tarot cards. Watching curiously as she expertly read the cards of the woman sitting opposite her.
Harry couldn't remember much from Divination class but from what he could he noticed that she was coming up with things that weren't the first reading of the cards.
The woman looked up and smiled at him. "If you want your fortune read then you'll have to get in line."
Harry took a step back and held up his hands with wide eyes, "No!" He said sharply and then laughed nervously when she looked at him weirdly, "I mean, er…no thanks. I've had enough of my future decided by fate."
She grinned at him as she finished up the reading and put her 'out to lunch' one up. "More of a take it day by day kind of guy?"
He laughed, "More of a fly by the seat of my pants kind of guy."
She laughed at that. "Name's Selena."
"Harry. Harry Potter."
"Like James Bond?"
"What?" Harry said in confusion.
"You know," she said, motioning with her hands, "The name's Bond. James Bond. You've even got the sexy British accent as well!"
Harry grinned and took her outstretched hand, "Ma'am," he said, bowing gallantly over it, "I am British."
"Oooh!" Selena fanned herself with a grin, "You make me contemplate leaving my husband!"
Harry laughed and stepped back, as his stomach rumbled. He blushed as he wondered just how long ago his last meal was.
Selena seemed to realise this too as she linked arms with him. "Honey, for entertaining me like that I'm going to let you escort me to lunch. I fancy gumbo."
"Gumbo?" Harry asked, as Selena started to drag him through the streets. She stopped short.
"You don't know what gumbo is?"
Harry shrugged helplessly.
"I have a lot to teach you British-boy. Come on, the best gumbo is served at a place called Sanctuary."
The name was familiar to Harry but he couldn't place it. Instead he followed his new friend with a grin. "This isn't just some way to scam a free lunch off a poor unsuspecting tourist is it?"
Selena just laughed and patted his arm.