True Love\'s Kiss

Chapter 1

Sunlight through the windows shone
down on the sleeping savior, yet he still did not awaken. The infirmary doors
opened and in walked Madame Pomfrey. She looked toward the sleeping Harry and
walked over to his bed.

She looked down at the boy’s
peaceful face and smiled gently, but there was a hint of sadness and maternal
concern in her eyes. She reached inside the folds of her mediwitch robes for
her wand and held it over Harry’s body. She then performed a series of diagnostic
spells but Harry’s body showed no negative reactions. She performed a few more
tests and noted the results. Even though Harry was still unconscious, Madame
Pomfrey’s tests seemed to find him physically healthy. Most of the test results
have remained the same as they were when Harry first arrived unconscious.
Madame Pomfrey only paid attention to the subtle changes in Harry’s condition.

“What’s wrong, Potter? Why won’t
you wake up?” The woman felt silly talking to her unconscious patient. But she
kept hearing Hermione say that muggles constantly talk to patients who refuse
to wake. Madame Pomfrey then remembered what Hermione said yesterday. ‘In the
muggle world doctors encourage family and friends to talk to comatose patients
and give them a reason to wake up.’

As Madame Pomfrey kept that tidbit
of information in mind she looked down at Harry again and tried to talk to him
once more. “Mr. Potter, the wizarding world is in mourning instead of
celebrating because you haven’t awoken yet. So many lives have been lost
already. We can’t lose you as well.”

Harry still did not stir and Madame
Pomfrey heaved a loud sigh. “Perhaps you don’t wish to hear such sad news.” ‘If
I were the boy I don’t think I’d want to wake up to a world where many of my
loved ones have already died either.’ “Well then, Mr. Potter, I’ll have you
know that if you don’t wake up soon you might miss out on a possible upcoming
wedding between Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. Sleep any longer and you could
very well miss out on little Teddy saying his first word or walking. Miss
Weasley is also looking lovelier by the day, so you should…” And still Harry
made no indication of waking up.

“Now, listen here, young man. If
you don’t wake up soon I’ll make you drink the vilest potions imaginable!” Even
the upset mediwitch’s threat had no effect on her unresponsive patient. Once
more she sighed forlornly. “Very well. Maybe later you’ll wake up when your
friends come to visit again.”

And just as Madame Pomfrey
mentioned Harry’s friends, the doors to the infirmary opened once again.
Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley walked in hand-in-hand with Ginny Weasley
trailing behind the couple. They all looked solemn as they headed over to
Harry’s bed. When they reached their sleeping friend Hermione let go of Ron’s
hand and took one of Harry’s frail looking hands in both of hers. Ginny moved
around the bed and took Harry’s other hand. All three simply looked at Harry
expectantly for a while, taking absolutely no notice of the mdeiwitch standing
close by. And when they saw that he remained asleep, their expectant faces
slowly turned disheartened. Hermione was the first to break the oppressive
silence as she finally seemed to notice that they had an audience to their
daily moment of disappointment.

“Oh! Good morning, Madame Pomfrey.
Please forgive our rudeness. We should have greeted you earlier.” As Hermione
said this, Ginny and Ron finally seemed to notice Madame Pomfrey standing by
the bed as well. Both looked sheepish as they too belatedly greeted her with a
mumbled “good morning.”

The mediwitch did not look at all
affronted. She simply smiled tenderly at the group. “That’s perfectly alright,
dears. I know you are very worried about your friend, Mr. Potter.” Since the
day Harry arrived at the infirmary Madame Pomfrey had seen the three
Gryffindors visit the boy everyday. Even though many of the Hogwarts students
have returned to the castle already after the end of the war, only these three
students were Harry’s constant visitors. They would come early in the morning
and leave late at night until she had to usher them out. These three also took
it upon themselves to entertain Harry’s other visitors and accept their gifts,
their gratitude, and even their condolences. Madame Pomfrey knew that Harry’s
condition has taken a huge toll on his friends, so sometimes she checked the
three over to see if they have been keeping themselves healthy instead of
making themselves sick with worry. And now as she looked at them she noticed
the redness of Hermione’s eyes and the girl’s slightly puffy cheeks. Ron,
despite all the previous times the mediwitch had seen him do so, has not eaten
a single bite of the sweets that Harry has received. And so the woman suspected
that Ron might have lost some weight, making the overly tall boy look even
lankier. Ginny Weasley, on the other hand, looked healthy, but the mediwitch
was unwilling to take chances with any student’s health.

“Well, you three, before I tell you
how Mr. Potter is doing today, how about I have a look at all of you first?” At
the sign of protest from the group, Madame Pomfrey immediately silenced any
objection with a stern gaze. She then looked at Ron directly and gestured
toward her desk at the end of the room, opposite the doors. “Come along now,
Mr. Weasley. You first.” She saw that Ron looked reluctant to leave Harry’s
side and added, “Not to worry, dear. Mr. Potter will still be there when you
return.”

Ron looked down at the mediwitch’s
authoritative stare and resignedly followed after her. One by one Madame
Pomfrey examined the Gryffindors. After she was satisfied with her health
evaluations she finally talked to them about Harry. The four of them gathered
around Harry’s bed and discussed his condition.

“Physically, Mr. Potter is healthy.
His vitals are stable and all tests for physical damage both internal and
external are negative. He will have no lasting injuries when he wakes up and he
will suffer no permanent magical effects. His wounds have healed nicely with no
scarring. I have also checked his head for any brain damage that might be
causing his unconsciousness and all tests are negative. Perhaps the only thing
wrong with his physical health is minor weight loss, but even that is not a
major concern. The only thing remotely alarming about his state is that he has
somehow gotten smaller.” At this statement the three friends gave Madame
Pomfrey confused looks.

Hermione voiced the group’s
confusion. “What do you mean by smaller, Madame Pomfrey? Like Harry
somehow shrunk? Is that what’s keeping him from waking up?”

“Well, Ms. Granger, the only
conclusive thing I could tell you is that Mr. Potter has somehow gotten a
couple inches shorter. Never in all my years as a mediwitch have I seen that
happen unless it was caused by a spell or potion or was some sort of magical
side effect. But none of those apply to what is happening with Mr. Potter. You
might have been too worried to notice this in the past couple of days but it
seems that Mr. Potter’s frame has also become much more, shall we say, compact.
His torso is not quite as broad as it used to be anymore. From what I’ve
gathered when I performed tests on him this morning, however, the changes are
slowing down and are close to finishing.”

“What does that mean?” Ron asked.

“I’m afraid I do not know the
answer to that, Mr. Weasley. We can simply hope that means Mr. Potter will be
ready to wake up soon,” Madame Pomfrey responded.

For a moment everyone gathered
around the bed was silent as each glanced down at Harry’s serene face. Ron,
Ginny, and Hermione finally noticed the subtle changes in Harry. Not only was
he slightly smaller, his unruly locks seemed glossier, his lips were fuller and
were rosier by a few shades, and his complexion was just a bit fairer. He also
seemed to be emanating some sort of very faint glow. Not one of them knew what
exactly was happening to Harry but all of them were hoping they would be able
to see those striking green eyes open once again.

After a while Madame Pomfrey
excused herself from the group and headed over to her desk. Ron, Ginny, and
Hermione made themselves comfortable around Harry’s bed. They prepared for a
long day of receiving Harry’s endless visitors, ranging from fellow students to
witches and wizards allowed on school grounds for the purpose of visiting the
sleeping savior. Of course other magical creatures were welcome to visit as
well, provided that they do no harm to the students and would actually fit
through the castle doors. The three Gryffindors stayed with Harry until Madame
Pomfrey declared visiting hours were finally over.

 

A couple hours after Harry’s
friends left and Madame Pomfrey finally retired for the night, the infirmary
doors opened slightly to once again admit Harry’s nightly visitor. Draco stayed
close to the shadowed walls as he approached Harry’s bed. When he reached Harry
he took one of the boy’s hands into both of his and stared at the peacefully
sleeping boy’s face. Draco continued to look at Harry for a few moments. Then
he hopped onto the edge of Harry’s bed, not once letting go of his hold on the
brunette’s much smaller hand. Draco contented himself with just staying by
Harry’s side, watching the beautiful sleeping face and the slow, rhythmic rise
and fall of the boy’s chest as he breathed softly.

“I hear you have more and more
visitors coming to see you everyday, Potter. You see? People are very worried
about you. Don’t you like making people happy? So, you really should wake up.”
Draco continued to talk to Harry about anything he could think of. The
one-sided conversation went from new brooms displayed at the Quidditch shop on
Diagon Alley to Draco helping with the rebuilding effort after the war. His
family’s last minute defection from Voldemort may have prevented his being sentenced
to Azakaban but his guilt and regret, not to mention all the atrocities he
witnessed while in the ‘care’ of his Aunt Bella, caused him to finally accept
his compassionate side and help those who are less fortunate after the war.

“I usually see Weasel, Weaslette,
and the Mudblood visit you. Granger always looks like she’s been crying all
night and Weasel doesn’t even stuff his face at every meal time anymore. Even
the Weaslette doesn’t go gallivanting off with any male she finds attractive
lately. Do you really want to trouble them so much?” Draco may be helping with
the rebuilding effort and trying to be more compassionate, but he was still far
from being a nice and friendly guy.

“You know, Weasel and Mudblood are
growing closer. But if you don’t wake up soon, they might worry about you too
much to even move forward in their relationship. Do you really want to stop
your friends from being happy? Come on, Potter, you’d never want that to
happen.” Harry just continued to sleep and Draco continued to ramble. “I’ll
even make a deal with you. If you wake up soon I’ll even stop calling them
Mudblood and Weasel. You always did hate it when I called them that. Sorry. Old
habits die hard, but I’ll try harder if you promise to wake up.”

A few hours passed with just Draco
talking to Harry and Harry just lying still. When Harry still refused to open
his eyes after all of Draco’s efforts at conversation, the blonde Slytherin
sighed heavily and hopped off the bed. He looked at Harry one more time. And
again he kissed the back of Harry’s hand just as he had done every night he has
visited since the end of the war. “Even if you won’t wake up for your fans, at
least wake up for those that care for you. Wake up for the sake of your
friends. Wake up for…” Me. As Draco’s sentence trailed off, he released
Harry’s hand and glanced out the window briefly. It was close to sunrise and he
knew he had to leave. If the mediwitch and Potter’s friends saw him there, they
might not be too happy with him. And so Draco mumbled a short farewell to Harry
and left the sleeping boy alone in the infirmary once again.

 

Meanwhile, somewhere in Knockturn
Alley a pair of red eyes was watching the very few passersby from the shadow of
an old, dilapidated shop. As the dark figure slowly emerged, it became clear
that it was a handsome young man with jet black hair and pale skin. He was tall
and slender. An elderly witch passed him by and he smiled at her, making his
handsome face look even more charming. The witch’s eyes grew wide for a second
before she bowed her head to hide her blush as she continued on her way. When
he knew that the witch could no longer see him, the young man’s charming smile
suddenly turned into a sinister smirk. He walked through the dawn’s earliest
light in search of a particular dark arts shop, Borgin and Burke’s.