The Wounded

The Wounded

Chapter 13

Harry shifted in the chair he'd placed between the two hospital beds. Lupin lay in one, the black dog in the other. If it weren't for the little glowing lights at the foot of each bed, pulsing softly with each heartbeat, he would have thought they were dead, they lay so still. But the lights shone in the dark room, the only lights there, other than the starlight that came through the windows.

Madame Pomfrey had said they would both survive. "I thought I'd seen the last of this for a while," she'd said, shaking her head sadly, as they were brought in only a few hours ago - Hermione, Ron, Lupin, and the dog, all of them unconscious. Bellatrix had been taken somewhere else, Harry didn't know where, and didn't much care at the moment.

Dumbledore and Hagrid had both come in answer to Harry's distress signal, after what seemed like an eternity, though Harry knew it had been only a matter of minutes after Bellatrix went down. Dumbledore had brought them all instantly to the hospital. He'd called for Madame Pomfrey, and soon she was bustling around them in a nightcap and dressing gown. Ron and Hermione had been pronounced well enough to be sent home; Dumbledore had seen to it. And Lupin's black dog would be up in a matter of a day or two, Madame Pomfrey had said. But she'd looked gravely at Lupin, and it was only after many potions and intricate incantations before she finally announced that he was out of danger. "But it's quite a setback. He'll have to start all over again, getting the silver out of his body," she'd said.

Madame Pomfrey had tried to talk Harry into going back to his own room, but he'd refused, and she'd agreed to let him stay here. She'd offered him a sleeping draught, but he'd refused that, too.

So she'd left him in the chair, knees drawn up and a blanket around his shoulders, in the dark hospital room.

All kinds of thoughts ought to be whirling through his head right now, but instead he felt blank and numb. All that mattered was that they were all right - Hermione, Ron and Lupin - and that was all that he could think of now.

Ron and Hermione might even be well as early as a few days from now. But Lupin was another matter. Harry turned to look at the form stretched out in the bed next to him, covered in white sheets. Lupin's face looked almost as bad as it had after the first attack, just over a month ago, grey and lined, eyes sunken. He hadn't even recovered from that first attack and now he'd been hit again, even if it had been only a small strike. Another one like it, Madame Pomfrey had said, and they would have lost him. As it was, it would be many more months before Lupin would be completely well again. But he will be well again, Harry thought. We'll take care of him.

Harry heard a rustling sound, and a soft whimper. The dog. He turned, and saw that the dog had shifted in the bed, pulling his legs up near him, curling up, and then the ugly head rolled, and turned toward Harry, and its eyes opened to stare at him. The eyes narrowed, and Harry could see the ghost of the dog's usual hating glare, but it was faint. The dog was too weak to manage anything more.

Harry looked back into the dog's black eyes, but it was just a look. No baiting, no glaring. I'd be dead if not for him, Harry thought, if he hadn't grabbed Bellatrix's hand, when she was about to aim the killing curse at me. He saved me, and yet he hates me.

Harry cocked his head at the dog. I'll never think badly of you again, he thought, no matter how you look at me. And Harry smiled.

The dog tensed and looked away.

Harry pulled his chair closer to the hospital bed, and reached out very slowly with one hand. The dog made a gesture with its head, as if it were trying to snap at him, but it couldn't manage it, and could only curl back its lips from its teeth. Harry gently set his hand down on the dog's head and began to rub behind its ears. The dog went rigid, and tried to pull away, only to give up with a deep sigh.

And then it began to tremble, Harry could feel it in his fingers, could see it along the dog's whole body.

"It's all right," Harry said. "It's all right."

But the dog continued to shake, and when Harry leaned over to look in the dog's face, to catch those black eyes again, he didn't see hatred there. He saw fear.

Why is he afraid of me, Harry wondered, so much more than anyone else? Lupin said I must look like someone who'd hurt him in the past. Did he have a cruel master? Quite likely, if this breed traditionally served old, dark wizard families. He could have come from the same kind of home as Dobby had.

"I know you've been treated badly," Harry said, still rubbing the dog's ears, "but that's all over now. You're safe now." He smiled a little. "You and I have a lot in common, you know. I didn't have a good life growing up either. Not until I came to Hogwarts."

The dog was still shaking, and it turned its head away again.

Moving very slowly, Harry slid off the chair and knelt by the side of the bed, still rubbing the dog's head with his fingers. The dog tried to pull away again, legs pumping weakly against the bedsheets.

"It's all right," Harry said, as he wrapped his arm around the dog's body to hold him steady. The dog shook even more. "It's all right," Harry crooned. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'll never hurt you."

The dog was still shaking, but he stopped struggling against Harry's arms. Harry held on to him, and realized he wanted to bury his head into the dog's neck.

"You were very brave," Harry said. "You saved everybody." He felt tears in his eyes now, for the first time that night, since it had all happened. How close it had been, closer than any other time, in all the years he'd fought against Voldemort, and yet in just a matter of a few minutes, he could have lost them all. He hugged the dog again, pulling it against his shoulder, and said, "What a brave dog you are, how marvelous you are."

The dog froze. Was the trembling less strong now? Or was the dog simply too tired? Harry went on crooning, "How brave, what a good dog, what a brave dog" over and over, rubbing the dog's side with his hand.

The dog's trembling was definitely softer now. Harry very slowly got up from where he knelt, and edged his way onto the bed. The dog tried to pull away one last time, but gave up, almost collapsing back against the bed.

Harry gently placed his hands under the dog's head, cupping its chin to pull its face around to meet his, and said, "Thank you. Thank you for saving my life."

The dog looked back at him, suddenly still now, no longer trembling. Harry thought, He's not even breathing. The fear in the black eyes was still there, but there was something else now, something Harry couldn't define.

Then the dog turned away from him and bowed its head. Like a surrender, Harry thought, as if he's given up. He's too weak to fight anymore. Harry's stomach lurched. I shouldn't have done this, I've pushed him too far.

The dog let out a deep sigh, and then, slowly, laid his head in Harry's lap.

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TBC