Loss and Gain

Chapter 6

The next few weeks passed fairly quickly for Harry. Hagrid visited every Saturday, and Harry was reminded of the good old days when he would walk down to Hagrid's cabin with Ron and Hermione. Ron visited a few times, and Harry found himself connecting a little better with Ron than in the first meeting, but it was still awkward. Harry had another surgery during this period too. It was on his shoulder and neck muscles, seeing as Harry could hardly turn his head an inch to either side.

The pain was immense after this operation, even worse than the first one. He often felt overwhelmed and when he felt this he would make it until evening and go into the pensieve. He saw many memories of small events that had taken place in Hermione and Ron's life. The pensieve was his escape, the one place where he was free from pain, and wasn't missing out on everything.

One of his favourite memories, he found, was Ron's memory of the Quidditch final during their third year. He watched himself dive, knock Malfoy's hand out of the way, and snag the snitch. He missed being on a broom badly and couldn't wait to be out of the hospital.

After the second surgery, which left Frankenstein-like scars on his neck and shoulders, he started physical therapy. Soon after starting he began to think of it not as physical therapy, but as pain and torture. His mobility was steadily increasing and he could manage to walk ten steps without any aid. His physical therapist, a woman named Natalie Ladman was usually a perfectly friendly lady, but when she was pushing him to go farther he often thought of her as a damn harpy.

He found himself lying on his back doing stomach exercises one night in early February, while Natalie stood over him urging him on. It was nearing eleven o'clock, and he felt as though he could not do all ten that she wanted him too. Harry was gasping for breath attempting to speak. He wanted to say he couldn't do anymore, but at the moment it was impossible.

"Come on James!" the physical therapist encouraged. "Only one more, and then you're done for the day!" She said as he strained his pale body upwards to finish the exercises.

"You are a nutter, trying to kill me," Harry panted, sprawled out on the floor.

"Stop being melodramatic," Ladman said happily reaching down to help him up.

As she grabbed his wrist to help pull him up she stopped dead, Harry suspended a few inches off the ground. Harry didn't realise this though, he was gone.

Masked men ran through the streets of a muggle suburb. They shot flames from wands they were holding. Flames illuminated the dark street with its quiet houses. The flames caught grass and shrubbery on fire. The masked men laughed. Fire had caught a small neat house on the corner of the neighbourhood. He knew there was a little boy inside the house. He even knew his name.

"Colin!" Harry called out still now lying on the ground again.

"What...?" Natalie asked surprised.

"Colin, wake up, you have to wake up!" Harry cried out desperately.

"Colin is my son's name! What about Colin?" she said horrified.

Fire climbed steadily up the side of the house. Other houses around the neighbourhood were catching fire now. The masked men he knew must be Death Eaters were now torturing and killing muggles who rushed outside to see what was going on in their formally quiet world. The cold night air was scented with death...

"JAMES!" Natalie yelled shaking Harry. Harry's eyes, which seemed to have darkened to near black as he stared off into space, cleared slightly. Harry was confused.

"I'm not James... Dad is James, I'm not...." He mumbled once again focusing on the world around him.

"What about Colin, James?" Natalie said nervously. Harry was back to normal again, and he knew that he'd have to do something about what he'd seen. Death Eaters were attacking a muggle neighbourhood, but how could he contact someone without the muggles knowing.

"Where do you live?" Harry asked his mind still darkly cloudy.

"I live on 8 Underwood Street..."

"I have to get back to my room," Harry said urgently to Natalie.

"Alright, I think I will go and check on Colin then. I left him with a babysitter. What happened when I touched you?" Natalie asked, and Harry could see a trace of fear in her eyes. She felt it too... It must not feel pleasant.

"No!" Harry said his mind reeling. "You can't go home yet, it's not safe, and you might get hurt."

"What are you talking about?" she replied mystified.

"You can't go, Natalie, people are attacking your house. If you go they might kill you. Wait awhile, please!" Harry said desperately knowing he sounded insane.

"If my son is in trouble I have to go, James,"

"No, Natalie, you have to wait for at least ten more minutes, please! You don't believe me, do you? If you don't believe me, then it means your son isn't in trouble and you can humour me and stay for ten minutes longer."

"What...?" Natalie said, confused on whether or not to believe the strange man before her, Harry figured.

"Please! Take me back to my room, now!" Harry said desperately.

"Alright," Natalie said vaguely.

Harry pulled the leather gloves Lupin gave him out of the pocket of his sweat suit and put them on. He didn't want to know anymore. He wasn't supposed to know these things.

"Help me up now," Harry said still scared out of his mind.

Natalie Ladman reached down, pulled Harry of the ground, and helped him settle into a wheelchair. They left the physical therapy room and at what seemed an agonising pace to Harry, wheeled through the corridors back to his room.

"You don't have to help me into bed," he said and motioned for her to leave the room. She left, and Harry wheeled over to Hedwig's cage. He was sweating, but the sweat felt like icy droplets on his skin. Harry quickly got some parchment from his bedside drawer and wrote out a message to Dumbledore. 'Death Eaters attacked Underwood Street. The entire neighbourhood is on fire. Get the little boy out of number 8. Trust me, I know.'

Hedwig was in her cage fast asleep, but she woke up at his fumbling around with the latch on the cage. He tied the letters to her leg, and watched her enter the mirror. He relaxed back in the wheelchair, but his mind was anything but relaxed. He felt useless; even though, he knew, sensing Death Eater attacks was not his job. He hoped the secret owl post was as fast as Hagrid said.

For the next hour Harry tried to read out of Rehabilitation Methods, but his mind kept going back to the image of Death Eaters faces illuminated by the light of the flames shooting out of there wands. Eventually, he gave up and lapsed into staring at nothing. He soon grew drowsy and drifted off to sleep even as he sat in his wheelchair.

*****

Ron sat in his parlour reading, when a pop from the fire caused him to jump and look around wildly. Sitting in the fireplace was Dung Fletcher's head.

"Ron," Dung said in his low gravely voice. "Dumbledore told me to alert the core members of the Order. A large Death Eater attack is underway in a London suburb, and an entire neighbourhood is in flames. Dumbledore says that the Order should be mobilised to the area. He said he alerted the Aurors, but they will probably only be able to spare a few people for the job. Tell who you can, and report directly to the scene." Mundungus said this all in one breathe, then he gave Ron the coordinates to apparate to.

"Alright," Ron said the adrenaline pumping in his veins. "How did Dumbledore find out before the Aurors?" he wondered aloud.

"I don't know," Dung said, and then disappeared with another pop.

Ron hurried into his bedroom and woke up Renée, who was asleep. He told her that he was going to go ahead to the scene, and that she should stay and wait for more news. She agreed after a small amount of protesting.

Ron grabbed his cloak, and slowed down for just a second thinking, don't get in a rush or you splinch yourself... Then he was standing in what seemed to be a quiet neighbourhood. Dumbledore was standing about thirty yards away from him looking around. Have we been set up? He wondered vaguely.

"Albus?" Ron asked confused. "What is happening? Dumbledore was walking towards him as he spoke.

"It seems we received a false tip off..." Dumbledore trailed off.

"Who was it!?" Ron said upset and wondering who the culprit was.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, but was cut off by a series o popping noised almost a hundred yards down the street. Dumbledore moved closer to Ron, and quickly muttered a disillusionment charm before doing the same to himself. Ron and Dumbledore snuck quietly towards the group of people, who Ron was sure were Death Eaters. There were close to thirty in all, Ron guessed. Ron's mind was in turmoil, how did Harry know the Death Eaters would be here? He's in the hospital. Maybe his connection to Voldemort told him. Ron decided that that must have been it, to keep it simple if only that.

Ron pushed the issue to the side for now, and concentrated on the present situation. He did not see Voldemort anywhere, he was very glad of that. Ron duelled with the other members of the Order against Voldemort the year before, and he would never forget it. The red eyes and spidery hands that grasped a wand that shot deadly curses. He shivered slightly at the thought.

The Death Eaters seemed not to care if they woke anyone up; they shouted good naturedly to each other. Ron wasn't certain what he should do, Dumbledore seemed to be still, observing. A Death Eater, who Ron guessed must be in charge, suddenly started shouting orders. All the Death Eaters pulled out there wands and started running in opposite directions, and shot flames out of there wands at shrubbery and anything that would burn.

Ron could only stare in horror, unsure of what to do. Suddenly a cloaked figure ran up to him and Dumbledore where they stood in the centre of the suburban street. It was Dung. With all the activity around them no one seemed to notice.

"I contacted the others and they should be on there way," came Dung's gravely voice from beneath the hooded cloak.

"Good," Dumbledore said, "I want you to go tell the others to arrive in disguise, so we can come up with a strategy."

Giving a quick nod to Ron, Dumbledore swept away into the darkness, a rippling of the space he occupied, all that could be seen. Ron stared at Dung for a second unsure of what to do.

"Well, I'm going to go keep those fires under control until we can take the offensive." Ron said finally and walked towards some burning shrubbery, hoping a Death Eater wouldn't notice the strange behaviour of seemingly empty space.

As Ron started squirting water on hedges, Dung apparated away so he could contact the others. Ron was busy keeping the fire from spreading to a split-level house, when someone tapped him on the back several minutes later. Ron spun around quickly, his wand raised. He lowered it when he saw that the almost invisible figure was Matthew Zeller.

"Ron," Matthew whispered as Death Eaters rushed by, oblivious to the conversation taking place, "We are using the O formation tonight. Go to your position. The signal to begin will be a whistle."

"Alright," Ron said nodding.

The O formation was one of the three formations the Order used when trying to capture or force away Death Eaters. Ron looked around orienting himself. He could see other barely visible figures skirting around Death Eaters. The street, which had been completely quiet a mere half hour ago, was swarming with Death Eaters. The Death Eaters were grouped mainly around a cluster of six or seven houses. Ron positioned himself on the South end of the street.

He didn't have to wait long. After only a few seconds of standing in the centre of the street he heard a long, low whistle. Ron resolutely began pacing inwards towards the spot where most of the Death Eaters were gathered. Glancing around, he could see the other figures doing the same. When he was about ten metres away from the crowd of rampaging Death Eaters, bent on destroying some poor Muggle's house, the long, low whistle came again.

With the precision of someone doing a task done since childhood, Ron drew his wand and made a slashing movement with his wand. At the same time he muttered, Apparitions Non. Silvery substance flew from his wand with fluidity not unlike water. It formed what seemed to be a wall, twenty metres long. It overlapped and joined with fifteen other silver walls, created by fifteen other barely visible figures.

A dome was created of silvery translucent stuff. Ron could no longer hear any of the Death Eaters shouts, but he could see them looking around wildly, there task of destroying Muggle homes forgotten. Without hesitating, Ron raised his wand again and whispered, Entfernen Sie Ausgang. A loud whoosing noise escaped Ron's wand, and he could hear other whoosing noises from other wands. The spell hit the dome and seemed to be blocked by it.

Ron took a deep breath, he knew after entering the dome he would be unable to leave it because of the anti-apparation jinx and solid barrier he had just helped create. Someone had to round up the Death Eaters, of course, if they were just left in the dome they would find a way out eventually. Everytime he fought the Death Eaters, he had to remind himself of why he did it. Before now, the answer was always been because of Harry. Now, thinking back to Harry's confused and distressed face in the hospital, he realised that it was still for Harry. Ron stepped through the barrier and into the dome.

Immediately, spells were shot in his direction. With the experience he had gained in the past few years, he easily blocked them. He quickly shot a couple of stunners at two charging Death Eaters. The two fell, unconscious, to the ground. Other Order members had entered the dome as well, and were fighting the Death Eaters. The Death Eaters had been surprised at the arrival of the Order members, and were aiming to kill rather than disable.

Ron could see Matthew, or who he thought was Matthew, binding Death Eaters with ropes shot from his wand. Ron remembered that Matthew was a Muggle born, like Hermione, and preferred something solid like rope to bind his opponents, instead of stunners. He turned his attention back to his own fight. A very tall, hooded Death Eater shot purple flames at him. He ducked quickly out of the way, but as he did another, stockier, Death Eater who happened to be standing near by tried to grab him. Ron, using his bare hands, fought away from the Death Eater.

Just as he was reaching for his wand to curse the Death Eater, the man shoved him so forcefully, Ron lost his balance. Ron fell to the ground and hit his head on the street curb. He felt white-hot pain sear on the back of his head, but he tried to block it out. He struggled to his knees and shot a stunner at the Death Eater that'd shoved him. The Death Eater wasn't quick enough to block it and fell over.

Ron continued to struggle to his feet. Battling Death Eaters and translucent figures surrounded him. The quiet suburban neighbourhood turned into a war zone. Ron could see several people running as fast as they could away from the dome and its occupants. Ron assumed they were Muggles. With the pain still burning in his head and chaos all around him, Ron finally made it to his feet. He saw Bill and Tonks fighting several Death Eaters across the dome from him. He thought the figure a few metres away from him might be Ginny, but he couldn't be sure.

Ron approached the translucent figure and her attackers. He shot a bat bogey curse at one of them. The Death Eater caught of guard by such a low-skill level curse, did not block it in time. Smiling slightly at the flailing Death Eater that was trying to fight off the bats, he turned around just in time to see the curse flying towards him. Ron tried to block it, but couldn't. It hit him full in the chest, and Ron fell to the ground, hitting his already damaged head again. He glanced up once at the ceiling of the dome as red and green flashed in the corners of his vision, and then everything went white.