Salvation

Nothing explicit yet, sorry. But there will be ^__^


”Harry. Are you awake?” The voice was soft and gentle, barely more than a whisper. Oh, Merlin, soft and gentle was so much worse than harsh and cruel. And he was lying in a soft bed. Harry shivered. He much preferred the cold stone floor of the oubliette.

“Harry?” There was a world of despair in that soft, female voice. Wait! Female? Very recent memories began to stir. He had been found, then, had he? The memory of being carried out of the Manor kicking and screaming, unsure whether he was protesting against his treatment for the past two years or his salvation from it swam before his eyes.

He forced his eyes open. He was lying in a hospital bed, in a small, sterile hospital room. He focused on the person calling him. Long, red hair, slightly round face, soft, pretty features. Ginny. Oh, god! Not Ginny! He could never, ever look Ginny in the eyes. No way. Not after… No, don’t think about it. Just don’t.

He had to say something. For a second, he considered a ‘Where am I?’, but that would just sound stupid. Besides, he knew where he was: St Mungo’s. It was where he wasn’t that was the problem. Shit! She was still waiting.

“How are you?” Shit, that was all wrong. That should have been Ginny’s line.

“Oh, Harry, I’ve been SO worried about you. Until they brought you here two days ago I thought you were dead! You still LOOK dead!”

“I’m fine.” Great, like that’s believable. He’d been missing for two years, turned up in a bloody heap outside the hospital, and apparently slept for two days straight. Besides, he was NOT fine. All he could think about was: ‘He threw me out. He actually threw me out.’

“Where have you been? What’s happened to you? Who did this to you?” Ginny sounded exactly like her mother. Where were the rest of them, anyway? Shouldn’t they all be crowding around his bed, hardly letting him breathe in their enthusiasm and worry? He was glad there was only the one but why, oh why, did it have to be Ginny!

“I’ve…” What should he say? ‘Lucius Malfoy kidnapped me shortly after the last funeral and has kept me as something between pet, pleasure slave and object of torture ever since’? No, he could not say that. WOULD not say that. At least, not to Ginny. Maybe not to anyone. “I’d rather not talk about it,” he finished lamely.

There were tears in Ginny’s eyes. A very rare sight. “I understand. It’s still too fresh. But you’ll need to talk about it soon, Harry. It’ll kill you if you don’t.” She shot him a sidelong glance, something guarded in her eyes. “You have new scars, Harry. I saw your arm.”

Shit! He’d forgotten about the arm! Was there any way to hide it? What the hell had Lucius been thinking?

“It’s… not what you think. Really. Do you know if there’s any way for Magical Law Enforcement not to see the arm?”

Ginny eyed him very carefully. Maybe it was lucky that he’d seen Ginny first, after all. If anyone could help him, it would be her. She was a very clever witch, almost as gifted as Hermione, but much less inclined to stick to the rules. And she respected other people’s privacy.

“There might be a powerful enough Concealment Charm. They can’t search you unless you co-operate. The hospital records might be trickier but they can be taken care of as well. But why would you want to do that? Don’t you want him punished?”

Harry braced himself mentally and looked Ginny squarely in the eye. “It wasn’t him. I’ll swear in front of the Wizengamot that it wasn’t him, if I have to.”

Ginny returned his gaze steadily, tears already dried. “Fine. I’ll get to it right away. Do you want me to send Ron and Hermione in? They’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

Did he really want to see them? But then, he didn’t really have a choice, did he? So he nodded.

Ginny left the room. Outside, he heard her say: “He’s awake now. You can go see him, but don’t ask him any questions. He’s not ready to answer them yet.” Sweet, blessed Ginny! Perhaps he COULD still love her, even though… No, he had to forget that.

Hermione nearly run to him, crying unashamedly. Ron approached a little more carefully, and stopped her just short of hugging Harry. “Remember what Ginny told us. Ask him first. Don’t touch him without permission.” He glanced at Harry apologetically. “We don’t know what you’ve been through, mate, but it can’t have been nice.”

Nice? What did nice even mean? It had been terrifying, painful and, most of all, intense. Nice had had no part in it, even in negation.

Hermione poked at Ron and hissed: “You’re one to remind me of what Ginny said. We’re not supposed to ask about it!” She turned towards Harry again. “Oh, Harry, we’re so sorry. Here you are, after all this time, and we can’t stop bickering for long enough to say hi.”

“Hi.” Harry went for a smile but knew it was more like a smirk. Well, considering the company he’d kept lately… He couldn’t help it. He started to laugh. He HAD to still be in shock.