Loss and Gain

Chapter 2

He didn't know where he was. It was a dark and gloomy place, a room that seemed to be made out of dark steel. He didn't know how long he been there, in fact he wasn't even sure who he was. He thought he had been someone of great significance at some point, but it was just beyond his reach.

He wasn't standing or sitting either. He seemed to be floating or something of the sort. An echoed voice repeated itself over and over again. Kill me now, Dumbledore.... it said. He wasn't sure who or what Dumbledore was, but it seemed he had once known. If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy.... He found himself wanting to tell this Dumbledore to kill him. He didn't understand it. In time the echoing voice faded until it was an echo of an echo, and then it was gone.

He knew he'd been there for a long time, but he couldn't judge how long. During time he noticed four figures lurking above him. The ceiling of this place was too high to see, but he could make out the figures. They were dark and shadowy.

He knew he recognized two for sure. He didn't know how though. The other two seemed to be people or things he knew of, but hadn't ever seen. One he knew was a woman. They were comforting in an odd way; they never spoke to him, and he could never see their faces. They seemed to be his guardians. They were in the high place, and he was not.

He didn't understand what the high place was, but he knew he was separate from it. It was as if he was a baby at birth. He was separated from it by something as thin, but as strong as the placental membrane. He was also separated from another place -he couldn't see it when he first arrived, but he had wondered towards it in time. In this place he seemed to be lying down -he was looking up at people.

There were giant glowing figures that bent over him. He seemed to open his eyes from time to time, but he was still separate from them. They spoke, but they seemed to be speaking in foreign tongues, their words thundering around him but incomprehensible. Some of the faces became familiar. A nurse he came to know, named Leah or maybe Lee. He saw an old man once which he was sure he had known at some point.

Then he heard the guardian figures speaking to him. Choose, or be chosen they said. If you don't choose you will be ripped from this place. He didn't know what he was supposed to choose. What was he supposed to choose between? Then two faces came to him; a redheaded man and a bushy brown-haired woman's face were there in front of him. Ron and Hermione; he suddenly knew their names. His best friends. He chose them. Harry Potter left the dark place.

*****

On December 17^th, Harry James Potter opened his eyes and looked around.

"Here I am," he said to no one in particular. He had not spoken in over five years, but he had no way of knowing that. He realised he was in a hospital room. He knew who he was, and he figured he'd been in a horrible accident of some sort.

It came back to him then; he had gone to the Ministry of Magic to rescue Sirius. It had been a trap he remembered, and Sirius was dead now, because of him. It hurt to think about. He had been possessed by Voldemort after he had disappeared from the plinth, it seemed as though it had happened only hours ago. He couldn't believe how Bellatrix had just killed Sirius. Just like that, no remorse at all -he wanted to kill her, but how? He seemed to be bed ridden.

Time to get going... he though and tried to sit up. He couldn't quite manage it, and raised his back a few inches off the bed and then had to fall back. Maybe I'm paralyzed, he thought absently, not really caring if it was true. He was still slightly disoriented and things didn't quite make sense yet; he felt out of step with everything, almost as if he was going against the grain of time itself. He drifted off into a half sleep.

A nurse, Leah, came in a few hours later. She changed out Harry's IV and was turning to leave when Harry roused slightly again.

"Con Ier Harve ah drink urv water?" he slurred, his tongue feeling like an untrained worm.

"Oh my GOD!" the nurse practically screamed, the clicking of her teeth coming together audible from even where Harry was. "You're awake!"

She rushed over to him and touched the scar running across his jaw impulsively, as if to make sure he was real. Harry was baffled at first, but then he felt another feeling. It was unlike anything he had ever experience, as if the nurse's innermost secrets were being whispered in his ear. He was looking at what appeared to be a reflection in a window. He could see what was through the window, but over laid upon it was the reflection of other things. In these reflections was the answer to his questions.

"Five and a half YEARS!" he choked out of his mouth with the untrained tongue. "I'm twenty-one years old!"

"What...?" the nurse stuttered out. "How can you know that?"

Harry didn't know. When she had touched his cheek he had known. It was a fact not to be challenged. He'd been gone five and a half years.

The nurse rushed out to get the doctor in charge of Harry's case. Harry relaxed back onto his bed, trying to absorb it. He had been able to legally drink for two and a half years. Some of his friends could be married. Some of them probably were married. Sirius had been dead for over five years. Now there is a delayed reaction if I ever saw one... he thought bitterly. He had escaped the pain of Sirius's death for five years only to have to feel it after everyone had probably got over it.

He tried to push the situation from his mind, and when failing, he settled for finding out where he was. He had to find out if he was in the Muggle world or in the magic world. Before if you had asked him, he would have said he would be in a magical hospital if he got injured. This hospital looked very much like the hospital he had seen on a school field trip in primary school. This looked like a Muggle hospital even though he couldn't fathom why he was here.

He decided it would be better not to mention anything about magic until he could find out for sure. He wondered who the hospital would contact to say he was awake. Dumbledore? Ron or Hermione? Probably Dumbledore, he would always try to look after his best interests. He still felt resentment towards him, but he figured he should just let it go. It had been five years since he spoke to anyone.

The dark place he had been in was fading from his memory at an alarming rate, and it was becoming harder to believe that five years had elapsed in what seemed to be a few days to him. He was so exhausted just from trying to sit up. He knew it wasn't logical for him to be tired -he had been resting for just a half decade. He lay back against his pillow.

About ten minutes later, a doctor hurried in. Harry was dozing, but awake at the sight of the doctor.

"You have decided to join us I see!" the doctor said in an overly jolly voice, seemingly the type of person who would always tell you to look on the bright side. The type of person you usually ended up wanting to hurt badly. In his mid thirties, he had blonde, almost white hair that reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy, though his face was too rounded.

"Err... yeah," Harry said at a total loss for words. He felt the doctor was much too cheerful for the current situation.

"I'm Dr. James Lovell. You are my patient, and have been for about three years. Leah, the nurse, told me she told you that you had been in a coma for a number of years. You were transferred here. Do you remember how you got injured?" he said very quickly. Thinking very quickly Harry decided not to mention the Ministry of Magic.

"Um... no, I don't think so," he answered.

"You were hit in the head by a football during a football game, according to the report sent from you previous doctor," the doctor continued, undeterred by Harry's lack of knowledge. "I am surprised that you are as coherent as you are. You were supposed to be brain dead. I doubt you remember much about your life."

"Um... no?" he said wondering how much of this life he was supposed to remember.

"Of course not," the doctor continued. "Your name is James Harry McGregor. You are twenty-one years old. Your birthday is August 1^st 1980. You may remember some things about your life before your accident, but I doubt it. I will be scheduling a number of tests on your brain for tomorrow. I want you to rest until then." He turned to the nurse and said, "I want him to have a shot of valium."

"Wait," Harry said quickly. "Am I paralyzed?"

"No, your muscles have atrophied. After intense physical therapy and ligament surgeries you will be able to walk again, probably."

With that he left the room. Harry found Dr. Lovell to be very insensitive and a jerk; it was like he thought it no big deal, Harry being in a coma for half a decade. Neither did it seem to bother him talking so openly to Harry about how he was supposed to be a vegetable for the rest of his life.

He assumed that Dumbledore had fed the information of Harry's "past" to the doctor. He wondered where Dumbledore was right now, where everyone was. All his classmates and the Weasley's, he hoped they were all okay. Voldemort came to the surface of his mind. What if Voldemort had taken over the magical world? This was tons worse then being stuck at Privet Drive without news-that had only been four weeks. This was five years! He felt abandoned. Stuck in a muggle hospital under disguise, it seemed like the worst predicament he had ever been in.

"Good night, Mr. McGregor." The nurse swabbed his arm, and not waiting for him to be able to protest, stuck him with the shot. The room around him grew blurry and faded into whiteness.

*****

Ron was sitting at the kitchen table of his and Renée's flat when Albus Dumbledore's head appeared in the fireplace. He called to Renée who was in the living room to come to the kitchen, and then knelt down beside the fireplace.

"Hello, Albus!" Ron said cheerfully.

"Hello, Ronald, I would love to stay and chat, but I am just delivering a message."

Renée walked into the then and knelt down in front of the fire as well. Ron and Renée had joined the Order of the Phoenix right out of Hogwarts, and were active members. Ron gathered information from the Ministry to try to identify spies, while Renée, who worked in the Muggle Relations Department, tried to help keep Muggles safe from Voldemort in any way possible.

"Hi, Mr. Dumbledore," Renée said in the gentle voice Ron loved. She had never been able to comfortably call Dumbledore by his first name. She respected him greatly and felt she needed to at least address him as Mister.

"I have called an emergency meeting of the Order. Something unexpected has happened. I will elaborate at the meeting, which will start in twenty minutes at Head Quarters."

With that Dumbledore's head disappeared with a soft pop, leaving Ron was curious about this meeting. Dumbledore hadn't seemed upset at all, just surprised at the development, whatever it was. Most news these days was bad, very bad. It was surely an unusual variation from the regular news if it wasn't bad.

Ron and Renée ate a quick lunch. It was a little after two o'clock in the afternoon when he and Renée apparated to Head Quarters. Head Quarters had not changed. It was still at 12 Grimmald Place. Tonks had inherited it when Sirius died.

Ron had begun to think of Harry as actually being dead. He wouldn't ever wake up Ron's mind reasoned so he might as well be considered dead.

Ron and Renée walked into the parlor that meetings were held in. The number of members in the Order was a bit diminished. Emmeline Vance had been killed in the attack on St. Mungo's, and Charlie had been killed the year before by Death Eaters. Hestia Jones had disappeared a few months ago and was assumed to be dead. Minerva McGonagall had been killed protecting the students from Death Eaters when they attacked during a Hogsmeade trip.

Most of the Order had already arrived. The parlor was long and narrow room with a low ceiling, the only light came from the large decorative fireplace. The room gave off an unpleasant feeling of claustrophobia. Remus Lupin was seated by the fire in a winged chair. He looked physically better then he had in years. An improvement to the Wolfsbane potion allowed his transformation once a month to be less tiresome and painful.

The war had taken its toll on him though. His eyes were no longer the eyes of a marauder; they seemed to have a veil drawn over them. Ron had felt remorse for the loss of Sirius and Harry, but he knew what he was feeling must be nothing compared to Remus.

Remus's life had been hell since he was eight years old. Sure, he had been happy at Hogwarts with his friends, but he had never been carefree, never quite as happy as them. Yet, by a cruel twist of fate he had outlived them all. Even Peter whom the Dark Lord had presumably killed after the coward tried to run for it.

Tonks was seated across the room from Remus. Her hair was long, plain, brown and pulled back today. She had been out on a mission, and Dumbledore had decided that neon colors of hair stood out too much for this particular mission.

Bill Weasley, whom Tonks was currently going out with, was sitting next to her. The rest of the Weasley's except Percy were sprawled in various pieces of furniture. Percy was in the Order, but he was at the present time infiltrating the Death Eaters ranks along with Snape and could not attend the meeting.

Hagrid was ducked down on a large sofa, as to stop from hitting his head on the ceiling. Hagrid's life had been hard the past few years as Voldemort had tried to kill off all the giants or part giants that would not join him. Most of the past few years had been spent on the run.

The twins, George and Fred, provided financial support for any and everything the Order needed. They still ran the very successful Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, so they could not take as active of a part in fighting Voldemort, though they were in attendance.

Neville Longbottom was sitting next to Ginny. Ginny was Neville's fiancé. Ever since Harry gone, Neville had become as active in fighting the Dark Lord as he possibly could, fighting for his parents and for Harry.

Mundugus Fletcher was in another corner of the room. He was disguised as a woman today, and Ron had no doubt that he had just been to the Hogshead in Hogsmeade. Mundungus was now a very important person in the Order, he had tipped off the Order on more then several occasions of raids that would be taking place.

Last to arrive was Hermione and Matthew. Davis was not with them, and they quickly seated themselves in squishy armchairs. Matthew, still an Auror, was often called to help first at attacks by Death Eaters, and he always managed to get the best information from the witnesses.

Finally, everyone in the Order had arrived. Dumbledore entered last. He stood in the center of the room, checking the people to make sure no one was missing.

"Thank you all for coming to this meeting on such short notice. I received an interesting phone call this morning in my office at Hogwarts. Only a few Muggles have the number, and it is used solely to communicate with Muggles. The caller was Dr. James Lovell." This announcement had an immediate effect on the room.

"Did Harry finally go?" Mad-Eye Moody said from the corner he was lurking in. There were murmurs of the same question resonating through out the room. When they finally quieted down Dumbledore took a deep breath and continued.

"To answer you question first, Alastor. No, Harry did not pass on. Mr. Potter woke up early this morning."

Immediately bursting questions were yelled from every direction. Stunned and unbelieving, Ron sat back in the chair he was seated in. Harry? Awake? It couldn't be true. How did it happen? Ron had wished for Harry to wake up for so long; now that he finally had, Ron wasn't sure if he was happy or sad. Harry was probably brain damaged beyond belief. Just then Dumbledore emitted a loud crack from his wand to quiet the crowd of people. Once they quieted he continued.

"Harry is completely coherent. He even managed to play along with the story we told the doctor. The doctor called me because I left my name as the contact. Also, Harry knows he has been in a coma for these past years. He is bound to be upset. I would like Ronald and Remus to visit him tomorrow morning and explain to him what is going on."

"Albus, I must ask if I may go along!" Molly Weasley said indignantly from behind Dumbledore.

"I understand you would like to, Molly, everyone here would like to, but Ronald was Harry's best friend. Remus is the closest thing he has to a father, now. You will get to see Harry in time," Dumbledore said gently, but firmly. Mrs. Weasley looked like she wanted to protest, but she didn't.

Ron was still in shock, it was so confusing. Harry wasn't supposed to be awake; Dumbledore had told him the first morning after going to the Ministry that Harry wouldn't wake up. But he had, and how had it happened? Why had it happened? Ron felt utterly helpless; he'd wanted to speak to Harry for five years, but now that he had the chance he was balking at it. What if Harry couldn't accept everything? What if he and Harry had absolutely nothing in common any more? It was as though Harry was still fifteen. When Ron thought back on his fifteen-year-old self, it was hard to imagine that that fifteen year old had become the man he was today.

If my fifteen-year-old self was the one waking up today, how would he feel? The answer came to him. He would have felt as though he had missed everything important in life, as though he had missed his prime. Ron felt overwhelmingly sad at this. Maybe Harry wasn't supposed to wake up at all. He wasn't sure how he felt, and he sure didn't know what the future would hold for Harry.

With this cocktail of emotions rolling around in his , he leaned back and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing Harry or if Harry would be able to handle seeing him. Was there no reasoning to it all? Why now? Why not a few days after the night at the Ministry? All the sudden Ron Weasley wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. There was no explanation for what had happened to Harry originally or for why he was waking up now. Ron wanted to explain, but no one was answering.