Itoshii Sune-ku

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Itoshii Sune-ku

Chapter 3: Sona Enzeru's Daitan Kyuujo.

'Stupid. Idiot. Dumbo. Pouf. Meanie. Great flying booger. Prat. Oaf. Stupid! Great. I'm repeating myself. I must be going insane. Here I am, laying on my back, talking to myself. Four fractured ribs, a fracture in my elbow, and a dislocated shoulder. Cuts, bruises, and other non-consequential wounds. See? Told you. No use of my left arm. That just stinks. I wonder if the light works...Nope. No light. That stinks, too. *Sigh*


I'm bored. *Snort* Anybody else in this position would be crying and cowering in the farthest corner in this little cupboard. But nooo...Not me. Not Harry. *Snort* I wonder who picked my name. It's a fairly horrible name. 'Common' as Uncle Vernon would say.

Gosh, I'm so bored! Somebody save me from the boredom!

I hope Aunt Petunia gets a chance to come down here soon. If my shoulder isn't put back right soon, it's going to hurt even worse for like, forever! *Snort* Okay, not really forever. But still. It'll hurt. A lot. I. Am. Seriously weird. If Aunt Petunia was here, she'd be asking me how I could make jokes at a time like this. Easy. It takes my mind away from the pain. See? No more pain.

Great. Now, I'm lying to myself? How cruel is that? Hmm...? I guess Aunt Petunia's coming down. Well, that's good. Come on. Hurry, unlock my cupboard, hurry. Now! Oh, come on. Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a pickle on top? What? Everybody likes pickles. Duh.

Ugh. I think I'm getting delusional. I think I've lost too much blood. What was it Dudley's book said about blood? The human body has just about two gallons of blood stored in the veins. And can lose 4 to 6 pints before nearing death. Consider, if you will, the average human weight.

You can easily estimate the quantity of blood in the body at the outset. There is a rule of thumb that in the normal healthy adult, 1/11 of the body weight is blood. Therefore, a one hundred and thirty-five pound human body contains 12.27 pounds of blood. Blood, with a specific gravity of 1.06, has a density of 1.105 pounds per pint. Thus, this human body contained 11.1 pints of blood at the beginning.

At the other extreme, when the blood finally stops issuing from the body, the heart will have long since stopped beating, and the flow will be of a simple draining type. No different really than if a full milk carton is punctured on a side wall near the bottom. Fluid will have leaked out until the level inside the carton falls to the height of the hole, and then whatever milk is below the hole will remain in the carton. The drainage opening in the body will be, say, a throat wound, and because of a laid, face down final posture, this will be very near to the lowest point in the body. As a result, it will have been arbitrarily assumed that at the end only about 10 (1.1 pints) of blood will remaine in the body.

Wow. That was cool. I didn't think I'd even remember all that. I so have to write that down tomorrow. Aunt Petunia will be surprised. And a little freaked. *Smirk* I can't wait. Ohhhh...Yay. My door's opening. Yay, go Aunt......Hoooboy...You're not my aunt.

"Hello? Oh...Are you all right?" Such a sweet voice this tiny angel has. No...You're so not my aunt. I wish there was light. I wish I could see all of you. But considering I can't move anything but my right arm, and there's no lightbulb anyway, all I can say, is that totally stinks.

Small, tiny even, pale from what I can see, black hair, dark eyes that looked kind, warm, and concerned.

"Can you move? Or talk? If you can, I can probably get you out of here. You might need a little healing first, though. Oh no...I don't know what I can do. I've never mended bones before. Last time I tried I only mended it half-way. Oh, dear. Rats! I knew I should have brought Serena with me!" The angel shuffled on her knees toward me, entering my cupboard. She leaned over me, running her hands from my feet, straight up to my chest, where I felt a warming, turning to a slightly painful heat in my chest. On up to my shoulders, checking both, where I felt the same heat start in my left shoulder. The Angel, as I've now dubbed her, ran her hands down both my arms, stopping at my left elbow when she saw me flinch. The same heat, spreading completely up my arm this time.

"I'm sorry. I can't do more than that. It makes me too tired. And I'm no healer. I suck at it. Serena is much better. I'll take you to her later. She can heal you up much better than I can. I can only do so much. I didn't even completely mend those bones. Only temperarily stitched them." Boy, she talks a lot. Not that I mind. I could listen to her talk forever. It's like listening to some beautiful mythical creature singing. And how the heck is that even possible?

"Thank you." She jumped. I don't think she expected me to say anything. Her eyes flew to mine. We stared at each other. And we keep staring. Then she surprised me by giggling. Now, what is up with that?

"You're polite." Oh. So, that's it. I'm polite. Whoop-dee-flippin'-doo. I snort. "I should hope so. I didn't have these manners pounded into my skull for nothing. Quite literally, really."

Whoa! The girl just disappeared! I sit up, not feeling much pain besides the bruises, cuts, and the strained muscles, and poked my head out of the cupboard door. How the--Oh...

"Heh, heh. Hi, Aunt Petunia. Let's not start yelling at her just yet, okay? She did help me a great deal a few minutes ago."

The end...Again for now.