The Gale

~¤~ The Gale ~¤~

A small gust of wind blew around the houses of Privet Drive, currently thrown into darkness.

The light patter of rain could be heard on the empty road, the streetlights flickered slightly as a storm started to rage.

The rain slowly grew heavier and the sky darkened.

A flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder broke the youngest occupant of number 4 out of his reverie.

“I want more!” moaned Dudley Dursley, greedily eyeing some crumbs left over from Harry’s biscuit.

“My poor, poor Duddy-dums!” cried Aunt Petunia, standing up to put the dishes in the washing basin. “There isn’t any more, sweetie…”

Dudley whimpered and faked a sniff, turning his teary eyes to his father. Uncle Vernon fell for it immediately.

“Come on Petunia! We’re practically starving the poor boy!” He gestured to his son. Harry snorted and tried desperately to hide his laughter, but Uncle Vernon had already heard him. He glared at his nephew, probably thinking up all sorts of illegal punishments.

“Vernon, just send the boy out, he can buy something with his own money…”

Harry frowned at his aunt. “I don’t have any money…” A one pound coin was tossed into the air by Uncle Vernon, and only through his seeker skills, did Harry manage to catch it. He frowned again

“You cant expect me to go out in this weather!” As if on cue, another flash of lightning and clap of thunder was heard. Uncle Vernon looked up from his newspaper and glared.

“Get going boy, or that storm will be the least of your worries”

Harry sighed, there was no point in arguing…he walked into the hall and pulled down an old coat, it was supposed to be used during summer, but Harry tried to avoid it. The sleeves had been ripped so that they only reached down to his fingers, and the zip was broken beyond repair. Probably burst when Dudley tried it on the first time four years ago.

“Get going boy! Dudley is still hungry!”

Rolling his eyes skyward, he opened the door. It was pitch black outside.

Stepping out into the dark evening, he made sure to slam the door shut properly.

 It was unusual for it to be this dark during summer but Harry gave no thought to it as he set off down the street. The rain was pouring down, almost as hard as hail. The wind started picking up too, blowing stronger and stronger with each passing minute. 

By the time he had reached the end of the street, Harry was soaked through. He didn’t really mind much, he was, after all, quite fond of rain, but this was ridiculous.

He rounded a corner and stopped at a crossing. A shiver ran through his body in the cold air. Another flash and crack of thunder reassured him that the storm wasn’t going to disappear any time soon.

A few cars streaked past, splashing muddy water onto his worn sneakers. When the road was clear he jogged over, he soon sped into a run and skidded to a stop outside a small sweetshop.

He opened the door and a faint bell rang somewhere above him. Harry shivered and pulled the torn sleeves of his jacket up so he could use his hands.

An old lady emerged from behind the counter; apart from her, the shop was completely empty.

“Hi, I was just wondering what I could buy for…” Harry stopped and sneezed, “…a pound”

The old lady stepped closer. “Oh, you’re that boy that’s staying with the Dursleys aren’t you?” Harry nodded and shivered a bit. The old lady gestured him further into the shop.

“Look at you, soaked to the bone! Don’t tell me you ran all the way here just for some sweets! I thought that Uncle of yours would have softened slightly by now! Oh well, here, you can buy two of these, one for you and one for your cousin,” she said handing him two chocolate bars.

Harry sighed. “Better make that one…or Dudley’ll get jealous.”

”All right then, are you sure you don’t want anything for yourself?” Harry gave her the one-pound coin and she walked up to the counter.

”No thanks, I have to run before I catch a cold or something.”

“Alright then, I’ll see you soon no doubt,” she replied, handing him a fifty pence piece.

”Bye! And thanks!” Harry called behind him before vanishing into the night.

The wind howled as he made his way down Privet Drive. Harry stumbled, as the wind grew stronger, something was definitely wrong.

Harry struggled forward but found himself being blown back. This wasn’t normal, not normal at all. Reaching a lamppost, he reached out and latched onto it tightly.

Panic burned in his chest like fire as he saw a few roof tiles and fences flying through the air. Something sharp caught his shoulder, forming a cut. He bit back a scream and looked up, just in time to see something black fly towards him. Pain was all he registered before falling away from consciousness.

~¤~

”Right then team! Split up and search for survivors, if you find anyone then yell!”

“Right boss!”

Harry heard voices around him. He was slowly regaining consciousness. Bright sunlight seeped through his closed eyelids. His head was pounding and his whole body ached. The pain was slowly growing and he found himself unable to move. A low moan managed to escape his lips and a shadow appeared above him. He opened his eyes blearily, realising that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. Blinking, he stared up into the blurred face of a fireman.

“Hey, boss! I think I found one!” the fireman called before kneeling down next to Harry.

“Hey kid, what’s your name?”

“Harry,”  he managed in a slurred whisper. He tried to move his arm but winced at the pain it brought. Something heavy was on his chest and he soon found that he couldn’t move his head.

The fireman put a gloved hand over his forehead gently. “Okay, Harry, I want ya to lie still for me. Me name’s Chester, but you can call me Chuck, ev’ry one else does,” he said with a smile, Harry tried, and failed, to smile back.

The hand was removed from his forehead “You just survived one heck of a storm, ya know! Cor, I’d bet anythin’ that you’re one of tha lucky ones! This place is levelled to tha ground! Now stay still until tha paramedics come to get ya. Then we’ll get these things off ya and pretty soon you’ll be good as new!”

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, he felt so very tired…

The sound of approaching footsteps was slightly muffled by something, though Harry couldn’t see what.

“Allrigh’ Chuck? Who’ve we got ‘ere?”

“Ah, Dave, this’d be Harry. Will ya help me get this thing off ‘im?”

“Sure.”

Harry felt the gloved hand on his shoulder and looked up. Chucks face swam into view. “Now, Harry, we’re gonna have to move this thing off ya, it may hurt a bit, okay?”

“’kay,” Harry slurred hoarsely. He closed his eyes again.

“On three…”

“One…two…three!”

Harry felt something being torn away from him, it was agony, he cried out weakly. When the pain subsided slightly he found that he was able to breathe a bit easier.

“There ya go! Tha paramedics’ll be here soon Harry, just hang in there.” Chuck’s voiced seemed miles away, sounding more like whispers. Whispers that made no sense what so ever. He was vaguely aware of sirens and being lifted onto something. After a few minutes he started to lose consciousness, he felt himself fall into darkness and somewhere far away, he heard the sirens start up again.

~¤~

Hermione Granger sank down into her favourite chair by the television and flipped through the channels carelessly.

It was probably the most boring day in her life. All her homework was finished and waiting to be handed in at the beginning of term. All the books in the house had been read. The local library was closed and there was nothing on TV. She didn’t feel like watching a film, seen as all they seemed to have were sob stories of love and betrayal…

She stopped at the news, to see if anything interesting had happened. A woman reporter stood in front of smoking carnage, probably the result of some kind of attack.

“-from the fire department are still searching for survivors. The gale struck down somewhere between seven pm and five am. Reports are still unclear as of why there was no warning. The Gale raged through Surrey and seemed intent on destroying everything in its path, this reporter is speechless.” A map popped up on screen, showing the rough area of where the Gale must have struck. Hermione sighed and switched the TV off again, maybe she could reread something…the thought was stored in her mind as the telephone rang somewhere in the hall.

“Hermione, dear! It’s for you!” Hermione straightened up, who’d be calling her this early? She walked into the hall and took the phone from her mum.

“Hermione Granger speaking.”

“Hey, Hermione!” It was Ron. At some point during the summer, he must have figured out how to use a telephone. Hermione smiled as she remembered Harry telling her of the time Ron tried to call him…

“Hermione? You there? Stupid thing…” He had obviously started banging the receiver on something. Hermione cringed as she heard the banging.

“Ron, RON! I’m still here!”

“Huh?” He must have heard her, for the next second he was speaking rapidly. “Hermione! You’ll never guess what I just heard! Dad said the ministry have been in an uproar all night! There was this hurricane or something…oh, Dad’s borrowed a ministry car, we’ll be over at your place to pick you up in roughly five minutes. Don’t pack anything! Bye!”

Hanging up the phone, Hermione frowned. What had just happened? And how on earth was Ron going to get there in only five minutes? And what did any of this have to do with a stupid Gale?

The doorbell rang five minutes later, and Hermione called out a swift goodbye to her parents. She opened the door to find Ron standing there. He was slightly pale and worried looking. Grabbing her hand he dragged her to the ministry car. “I’ll explain on the way…” he muttered.

They got into the car, which promptly started driving away. Hermione turned expectantly to Ron, who met her gaze

“Hermione…that hurricane I was telling you about…”

“It was a gale, Ron.”

“Whatever! It completely tore up Little Whinging…and don’t you dare tell me you don’t know who lives there!”

Hermione thought for a second, sure, the place sounded familiar. She shrugged. Ron glared stonily.

“Our dear friend Harry lives there, Hermione!” he replied, sarcasm dripping of his every word.

In horror, Hermione’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, she stared, wide-eyed at Ron.

“We’re here!” There was someone sitting in the driver’s seat that Hermione hadn’t noticed before. The car had stopped by what must have been a street at some point. Debris and various bits of furniture were strewn over the road.

Ron and Hermione jumped out of the ministry car and ran towards the remains of Privet Drive. Everything around them was in ruins and injured people were being led into ambulances.

They skidded to a stop outside the remains of number 4. Two firemen were searching through the rubble. Hermione, fearing the worst, turned and threw her arms around Ron’s neck, sobbing hysterically on his shoulder. Ron gently pried her hands away and approached the nearest fireman, reaching forward; he tapped the man on the shoulder.

The fireman turned and smiled at them. “What can I do for ya, kid?”

“Umm…my name’s Ron, and this here is Hermione” he gestured to the girl who had latched onto his arm. “We…er…our friend lived here…we were wondering—“

The fireman’s face lit up for a second. “I think I know who you’re talkin’ about! What’s-‘is-name…”

“Harry.”

“Harry! That’s the one! Green eyes, black hair?” They nodded eagerly. “They took ‘im to hospital a while ago…tell you what…my shift ends in…” he consulted his watch, “fifteen minutes, tha boys and me can drop ya off at the hospital if ya like?”

“That’d be great, thanks!” Ron replied, clearly relieved that his friend was still alive. He put an arm awkwardly around Hermione’s shoulders. “Hear that? He’s ok…we’re gone see him in a bit”

Fifteen minutes came and went and before he knew it, Ron was riding on the back of a fire engine with Hermione sitting beside him.

They pulled to a stop outside a large hospital. Above the door was a large sign that read ‘Saint Andrews’.

With a quick thank you to the firemen they ran through the doors. As with so many other hospitals, the walls were clear white and spotless. The smell of disinfectant hung in the air and filled their nostrils as they made their way to the reception.

“May I help you?” asked the receptionist, looking up from the computer screen.

“Yes…we’re looking for our friend, Harry—“ Ron described his friend in as much detail as he could, but before the receptionist could respond a doctor stepped forward.

“It’s all right Helen, I’ll handle this.” She turned to Hermione and Ron. “Come with me please,” she said kindly.

Hermione and Ron were guided down many hallways until they stopped outside a door with the number nine on it. The doctor stopped and pushed the door open. She let them walk in before retreating to see to some other patients.

Harry was lying in a hospital bed, a breathing mask situated over his mouth and nose. There were many machines around him, one was bleeping in a steady rhythm and another was blinking numbers in a random order.

A thin bandage had been wrapped around his head and his messy black hair stood out starkly against the white. His right arm had been bandaged from elbow to wrist, leaving his fingers free. His chest seemed to be sporting bandages as well, though they were barely visible under the blue tee shirt he was wearing.

He was unconscious.

Hermione and Ron drew two chairs up to the bed and sat down, watching the steady rise and fall of his breathing and the mist that gathered in the mask whenever he exhaled. The room was silent, apart from the bleeping and it remained so for a long time.

Finally, the stillness was quenched by Ron’s voice: “I’ve never been to a muggle hospital before…jeez…they make everything look so serious, I mean what is that bleeping machine over there? And why has he got that thing over his face?”

Hermione sighed “That bleeping thing is a heart monitor, it’s bleeping his heartbeat and that thing on his face is an oxygen mask to-to help him breathe…” she answered softly. Ron stared. “Why does he need help breathing?” he whispered shakily, Hermione didn’t answer. Ron stared at Harry with new fear cursing through him.

~¤~

Mrs Weasley stood from the kitchen table to answer the phone. She had never really trusted muggle artefacts, but it was a perfect way to communicate with muggles…the Grangers for example. She lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

“Good morning Molly…Anne Granger here, Hermione’s mum?”

“Oh, hello Anne. Is something the matter?”

“I’m very sorry if I’ve interrupted anything, but my Hermione called me a little while ago, apparently she needs our help.”

“What’s happened? I’m afraid Ron isn’t here, he disappeared a while ago with his father…what can I do to help?”

~¤~

The doctor was back. She was checking Harry’s pulse and studying the numbers on one of the machines, all the while scribbling notes onto the clipboard she was holding.

Ron and Hermione watched her pull out a needle and carefully inject some bluish liquid into Harry’s un-bandaged arm.

“I can have some extra beds sent up if you plan on staying here with him?” Hermione nodded numbly. The doctor smiled and was just about to go when Ron’s voice reached her ears. “Is he going to be okay?”

She shrugged.“If he survives the night then that’s one step along the road to recovery.” And with that she vanished down the hallway, leaving Hermione and Ron in a shocked silence.

They glanced at each other. “The night? Well…that sure sounded comforting…”

Half an hour later the doors were opened and the doctor walked in followed by four people, two of them were carrying pullout beds and the other two had already pulled their children into bone crushing hugs.

 “Hi mum” both Ron and Hermione said in unison. Mrs Weasley looked down at Harry. “Oh dear lord what happened? What is all of this?” The doctor, sensing discomfort lead Mrs Weasley and Mrs Granger into the hall to further explain Harry’s condition. “I’m doctor Charlseen, you can call me Angela…”

The beds had been fixed and once again Hermione and Ron were left alone with Harry.

The heart monitor’s bleeping continued and then suddenly it picked up speed and a bell rang somewhere by the door. Several doctors came rushing in. They were all yelling things. Hermione and Ron were led out by one of the nurses just as Harry’s doctor cried, “CLEAR!”

~¤~