Chapter Text
Chapter 1:
Every time that Harry found himself being awaken at some ungodly hour of the morning, the idea of violating the Hippocratic Oath that he had taken years prior seemed more and more appealing. It was on this particular day that the temptation was almost too much for him to bear, and it took all of his willpower to lift his heavy eyelids and acknowledge the cheery nurse standing at his couch-side.
“Whaddyawan?” Tiredness was an effective killer of niceties, and Harry felt like death. Anthony seemed annoyingly unaware of this feeling, already switching on the kettle and heaping coffee into two mugs and a generous helping of Sleep-No-More into one.
“It’s Ron Weasley again, won’t be seen by anyone else. Right hand’s the size of a well-tended pumpkin; got caught in the crossfire of a street duel near Winchley. Nothin’ serious. You get much sleep?”
Harry sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and trying to shake the feeling that all his molecules seemed to be pulling him to the floor, an astronaut stranded on Jupiter.
I bet astronuats get proper sleep though, he thought wryly.
“Doesn’t feel like it. What time is it?”
“Just turned four.”
“Ah. Two hours then.”
Anthony tutted, pushing the mug of coffee into Harrys hands. “I can get Dr. Astor to take a look instead if you want?”
“Nah, it’s alright, thanks. I’ll be down in a minute.”
Harry wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up, and how much more Sleep-No-More he could take without serious consequence to his health. Patting his lawless curls down with his hands with little success, he resolved to follow Anthony downstairs to the ED after a short search for his stethescope and coat. After a minute of confusion, he realised he was already equipped with both, and sighed.
Harry’s now wrinkled student-healer coat was identical in colour and style to that of a muggle doctors, save for the blue outer lining that suggested his ranking. A quick de-wrinkle spell paired nicely with a general freshening spell, and he found that he had already begun to feel less tired by the end of it. He took the fastest route to the ED, walking swiftly up the hall and down the stairs. Ron was in his usual spot, chatting to Mrs. Finch the receptionist, and over the hubbub of the Emergency Room, Harry could make out the faint and familiar hum of their voices.
“-ssume the surgery went well then?”
“Oh yes, dear, more than well! Mittens is able to meow in perfect pitch now, can you believe it? I don’t know how they did it...”
“Neither do I- Harry!”
Ron’s enthusiasm at seeing Harry, no matter how often they met, never failed to make Harry smile.
“Wanked one time too many, I take it?”
“If that were the case I doubt my hand would be the only casualty,” Ron quipped back, following Harry into a quieter treatment room.
“Fair point. Right, does this hurt?”
Harry pressed down on Ron’s hand with so much pressure he thought it might pop, but there was no reaction.
“If I wasn’t looking, I wouldn’t even know you were touching me.”
“Shit. Nerve damage.” Harry stilled for a minute, considering his options. “Right, I’m gonna give you an anti-swelling potion and then once it goes down we’ll try preserve as many nerves as possible. You’ll be able to use it fine, but you mightn’t be able to feel anything in some parts of your hand.”
Ron nodded, prodding his damaged hand with his other. “Thanks, mate.”
Harry smiled, leaning on the bed adjacent from his best friend.
d
“You have to remember to be careful, Ron. You’re not invincible, no matter how much you feel it. You were in just last week with a boneless foot!”
Ron winced. “I remember.”
“Just..” Harry sighed, forcing the memories of their shared teenage losses down in his mind. “I don’t want to get a call in the middle of the night that something has happened to you. Something that can’t be fixed. I can’t go through that again. None of us can.”
Ron nodded solemnly. “Okay.”
A heavy silence sat between the two for a minute, before Ron spoke up.
“You know, it’d help if you were there.”
Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“For the last time, I’m not going to be an auror! And you can tell them that, too.”
Them, in this case, were the group of people who’s faces had dropped in disappointment when he told them he was going to become a healer, and who had been asking about once a month, usually through the medium of Ron, if he would reconsider.
“Right. Sorry.”
Harry sighed again, this time in mock frustration, and smiled at his friend.
“I’ll go get that potion. Don’t do anything too exciting while I’m gone.”
“Copy that.”
The sun began to rise steadily over the hospital, and Harry looked out the window at the golden light filtering through the blinds. This was going to be a long day.