Survivors - 17

"Harry, can you hear me?" she gasped, sinking to her knees on the floor beside his bed because her legs refused to support her. "Open your eyes, love."

His eyes fluttered once again before slowly blinking open. He squinted and shut them against the brightness of the room.

"Nox," Ginny whispered tearfully, and the voice-activated overhead lights dimmed.

Harry slowly opened his eyes once again. The usually vivid green orbs were dull and clouded with pain. He furrowed his brow as he fought the confusion that was overwhelming him.

"It's all right, Harry. We're at St. Mungo's," she whispered.

He was still covered in a mass of deep purple bruises. The Healers said that the Draught of Living Death had simply slowed down all his internal organs, hindering his ability to heal. Now that he was awake, things would finally improve.

His eyes rolled back slightly, but he blinked and tried to focus. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead and upper lip as he struggled to gain his bearings.

"Relax, Harry. Everything's going to be okay," Ginny said soothingly.

His breathing became increasingly labored, and his eyes grew wide with panic. She could feel his body trembling slightly, although he was still too weak to put up much of a struggle. His lips looked dry and cracked, and he tried repeatedly to wet them.

"Hagrid!" she hissed, waking the sleeping half-giant.

"What? Wha's goin' on?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Hagrid, Harry's awake," Ginny said, trying to convey her urgency to him without alarming Harry. "Go get one of the Healers, please. Hurry."

"'Arry?" Hagrid boomed, jumping from the couch and lumbering toward them. "Blimey, 'arry! It's good ter see ya again."

Hagrid's appearance seemed to alarm Harry more than comfort him, and he began gasping for breath.

"Go now, Hagrid," Ginny said, taking both Harry's hands in her own. "It's all right, Harry. Everything is okay. You're here with me, and you're going to be fine. Ron and Hermione are fine, too," she said, hoping that would calm him.

He gripped her hand tightly with his right hand, but his left remained slack and unmoving in her hand. His left arm had been the one to receive the deep Slicing Hex, and the Healers had been worried about nerve damage.

"Just look at me, Harry. Look into my eyes and breathe with me," she said, locking her eyes on his panicked green ones. "I'm not going to leave you. I'm right here."

She wasn't even certain if he could hear her, but his body relaxed slightly, never breaking eye contact with her. She could see her own face reflected in his wide, trusting eyes.

A team of Healers burst into the room, pushing her out of the way and converging around his bed. As soon as she was pushed back, she could hear his breathing grow labored again.

The lead Healer waved her wand over him while two others tried to calm him.

"No," he gasped, weakly attempting to push the wand away.

A fourth Healer gathered several potions and began trying to pour them down Harry's throat. He spit out the first one, his head thrashing from side to side. His voice was hoarse and scratchy, and she couldn't understand his words.

"You're frightening him!" Ginny snarled, pushing her way between them and re-claiming her place by Harry's side. Taking his good hand in hers, she clutched it to her face.

"Please move aside, Miss. We need to tend to his injuries," a young Healer said arrogantly.

"Yeah, you're doing a really good job of that," she said sarcastically. "The last thing he remembers is fighting Voldemort for his life. Before that, he was being held prisoner and had a potion that would relatively render him a zombie poured down his throat. Of course he's fighting you! He'll calm down if you let him know you don't mean him any harm."