An Emergency Like No Other

Ginny awoke, feeling her head throbbing. She wasn’t quite sure where she was, but she was obviously in bed somewhere. First she tried to remember whether she was at school or at home, but she couldn’t. Eventually, she forced her eyes open and saw she was in a place she had never seen before--a room with stark white walls that held a disturbing air of sterilization and caused her to feel uncomfortable.

It took Ginny awhile to register that she had absolutely no idea where she was, but she was fairly sure this was some kind of weird dream and tried to sit up, but her leg hurt too much.

"Ow!" she said, as she allowed herself to slump back down. The pain was real--this wasn’t a dream. Ginny saw a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and kindly blue eyes turn to her. She was wearing a grim uniform of some kind, but she was looking at Ginny with sympathy.

"Hello," she said gently, sitting down in a chair near Ginny, "I’m Dr. Gillian Hicks."

"Hi," replied Ginny, who hadn’t really taken this in, "Where am I?"

"You’re in the hospital," Dr. Gillian Hicks answered amiably. Hospital--this didn’t look like any kind of hospital Ginny had ever seen. It was then that something occurred to her.

"Wait," she said, "What did you say your name was?"

"Dr. Gillian Hicks," the woman answered softly. "You can just call me Gillian if you want."

Doctor. Ginny knew doctors were what Muggle Healers were called--she must be in a Muggle hospital and she had heard quite a lot about how rude Muggle medicine was. Everything was coming back--the assignment--the car--the collision--the pain. She sat up, panicked and on the brink of crying.

"It’s okay," Gillian told her, "Everything’s all right now. We have everything taken care of."

Taken care of? Had they already done something to her? She looked down at herself in alarm and saw she was wearing a gown the same white as the walls. This was when she really began to panic--this must mean they had her wand. Not that she could do magic outside of school anyway.

"Where are my clothes?" she asked in a panic.

"It’s okay," Gillian cooed her. "Everything’s okay--what’s your name anyway. We couldn’t find any identification on you."

"Gin--" she begun, but broke off. "Ginny...Miller," she quickly invented, spotting the name "Miller" on a bulletin board. Gillian smiled at her.

"Everything’s going to be all right, Ginny," she told her. "Where’s your family--we need to contact them." What was Ginny supposed to do now? She had to get out of there.

"What’s their telephone number?" Gillian asked. Telephone number. Since Ginny’s family was magical, they didn’t have a telephone and there was only one telephone number she knew...

"Could I, uh, call them?" she asked quickly. "It might be better if I talk to them."

"Why?" Gillian asked.

"It--it wouldn’t work," Ginny replied. "My parents get some many calls everyday that--that they ignore it if it’s anyone they don’t know."

"Well...all right," Gillian said slowly, "But I don’t want you leaving your bed. I’m afraid you’ll be stuck there for quite awhile."

"Why?" Ginny asked. In the wizarding world you would probably have to spend one night at most for such a fixable injury.

"Well, we’re going to operate on you tomorrow," Gillian said calmly, "but it will probably leave you done for quite awhile."

"What d’you mean ‘operate?’" Ginny asked nervously.

"Nothing major," Gillian said offhandedly, "Probably just a few stitches."

Stitches! It was now imperative that Ginny get out of this place as soon as possible--before they "operated" on her.

"C-could I talk on the phone in private?" Ginny asked.

"I guess if it’s really important to you," Gillian said slowly.

"It is," Ginny said desperately.

"All right then," Gillian said. "If that’s what you really want."

"Would you like some more soup, Dudders?" Aunt Petunia asked her son, offering him a bowl of carrot soup.

"No," Dudley said, looking reproachfully at his cousin Harry. Harry sat at the table silently. Being with the Durlseys left Harry completely cut off from the magical world and he hated it. His sulking was broken by the sound of the phone ringing. It was probably Diosa Puttidi, a blue-blooded woman who was going to have dinner with Durlseys that afternoon.

"I’ll get it," Uncle Vernon said, walking into the kitchen to pick up the telephone. "Vernon Durlsey speaking," he said into it, "how can I help you?"

There was a pause when a look of utter horror spread over Uncle Vernon’s face. Harry’s hopes lit up--surely, there was only one thing that could inspire a look of such alarm on his uncle’s face.

"Harry Potter?" he asked angrily, sounding quite nervous. "What could a little girl like you possibly want with Harry Potter?" Dudley had a badly hidden look of jealousy on his face--though he never talked about it, Harry knew Dudley had never had any female companionship in his entire life.

"I see," Uncle Vernon said grimly. "It’s for you," he added, handing the phone to Harry. The person on the other end had clearly threatened him with magic. Who was it? Hermione, perhaps?

"Hello?" Harry said into the phone quietly, not sure whose voice to expect.

"Harry!" a terrified female voice breathed desperately. It took Harry a few seconds to realize who it was; Ginny Weasley.

"Ginny?" Harry asked, just to be sure. Dudley’s face was practically green.

"Harry," Ginny said frantically on the other end, gasping for breath, "I’m--I’m in a Muggle hospital right now and they’re--they’re going to operate on me tomorrow. You’ve got to contact Mum and Dad--s-send them an owl and--and tell them I’m in--" (there was a slight pause) "--Mercy Hospital. I’ve told them my last name is Miller."

"Okay," Harry said, trying to remember all this. Uncle Vernon was staring right at him as though hoping to read his mind.

"I think, that’s everything," Ginny said. "I guess I can only wait now--oh, Harry, I’m scared!"

"It’s going to be okay," Harry told her, even though he wasn’t sure of this himself. "I’ll--I’ll go now," he added catching the look on his uncle’s face.

Harry hung up, his heart suddenly racing. He wasn’t sure an owl would reach the Weasleys quick enough, so he tried to think of quicker way. The Weasleys didn’t have a telephone, the Dursleys didn’t have Floo powder and Harry couldn’t use magic because he was outside of school. This seemed to mean sending the Weasleys a letter was their only hope and he would have to send it as soon as possible.

Well then, what was he standing around there for? Harry quickly ran upstairs, already composing the letter in his head.

"Wait, just a second there," Uncle Vernon said menacingly. "Who was that you were talking to you?"

"Ginny Weasley," Harry answered, figuring the name would mean nothing to the Durlseys. Dim recollection dawned on Uncle Vernon’s face.

"Wait, are you talking about those Weasels?" he asked.

"Their name is Weasley," Harry said hotly. Uncle Vernon begun pacing around. What could Harry do? He had to get away--time was of the essence.

"Those...Weasleys," Uncle Vernon said in a mock apologetic voice. "You were talking to a little girl." Harry paused.

"She’s the Weasleys’ girl," he said, figuring telling Uncle Vernon the truth would cost him nothing. "You’ve seen her--she’s about this tall." Uncle Vernon breathed dangerously.

"She has red hair," he said as though this were a crime of some kind. Harry faltered.

"Yes, she does," Harry answered. "All the Weasleys do." Uncle Vernon sighed.

"You may go," he said finally.

Ginny had never watched television before, though she had had heard about it, but there was one in her room. Most of it seemed to involve people talking about recent events and other people trying to sell thing. As Ginny watched one of the reporters talk about about a dangerous Sikh fugitive, a woman walked in the room and amiably smiled at her. Was everyone in this place friendly?

"Hello, Ginny," she said. "I’m Catherine."

"Hi," Ginny answered.

"Why are you watching the news?" she asked. "You should watch cartoons," she added, using a small a devise to change the image on the television screen, "Kids love cartoons."

"What are cartoons?" Ginny asked.

This was, evidently, the wrong thing to say. After a long awkward pause, Catherine turned off the television and stepped towards Ginny.

"Are there more like you?" she asked in a whisper as though fascinated by the facade of Ginny’s face.

"What?" Ginny asked confusedly.

"You know what I’m talking about," she said. "I know what you want--you want to go home."

"Yes, that’s true," Ginny admitted.

"But where is your home," Catherine continued as though Ginny had not said anything. "Are you from outer space or from the future or something."

"No," Ginny said, "I’m not a time-traveler or an alien, but I know two people who were time-travelers once."

"Were they people from the future who decided to settle here or something?" asked Catherine, who seemed to be taking this seriously. Ginny didn’t say anything.

"I’d better get Dr. Taylor," Catherine said suddenly. She got up and walked out of the room, leaving Ginny alone with her thoughts.