Eeman

Rice

Harry nearly slept through to the next morning after his meeting with Ms. Tina and the police. He awoke with a start from an intense dream that faded the moment he opened his eyes. He vaguely remembered being woken periodically to cough, to prevent pneumonia and such, during the night. A different nurse had been there.

"You needed the sleep, Harry," Beth said coming over to him. "How do you feel?"

"Better, I think," Harry said. He was hungry, and there was a tray of breakfast waiting. The scents of it wafted towards his nose. There was bacon, and he wouldn't have to fight for it.

"Your fever is down. Do you need to go to the toilet? I removed your catheter a bit ago, and you slept through it."

"Oh, that's why," Harry said, nodding to himself. "Yes, I could use the loo. How do I get there?"

"The physiotherapist was here earlier. He is just down the hall checking on his other patients. He'll be here again soon, to show you how," Beth said briskly. "How about you get started on your breakfast? We need to improve your nutrition. You also need to eat for the pain meds we're giving you."

With that, Beth raised the head of his bed so that he was sitting up, and he caught sight of the remainder of his leg again. In moments, his mind felt separated from his body for a few seconds. How is this even real? Less real than turning Dudley's hair purple. Uncle Vernon almost killed me. Harry tried to take a deep breath and hold it as his thoughts flashed through his mind too quickly. He was able to take a breath and let it out slowly. He had been able to do such calming techniques in the past and thought now would be a good time to try them again. He closed his eyes.

"Harry?" Beth asked. He opened his eyes quickly.

"I'm awake. Just calming down" he said anxiously, his eyes popping open immediately.

"Here's your breakfast. Please eat at much as you possibly can, while we're waiting," she said. Harry dug into his food, still vaguely wondering if this was all real, but he kept telling himself that it was. While he ate, Beth added some bags to his IV. Would he be able to go to the loo with the IV pump?

Harry had just finished his meal when the physiotherapist entered the room. Harry looked at the physio, and decided he seemed to be about Uncle Vernon's age, perhaps. However, he did not look at all like Uncle Vernon (much slimmer and no mustache), so maybe this guy would be okay.

"Hello, Harry, mate. I'm Ben, physiotherapist," he said with a smile, offering his hand, which Harry shook. "I will start out coming to you for a few days, but then you'll start coming to the PT room. It's loads more fun. But first, we need to get you moving!" He held up the forearm crutches he had been holding at his side. "Sometimes I start my patients with a walker, but I think these crutches will be better suited for you."

"I'm going to get up? Now? I don't know, sir. Isn't it too soon?" Harry said. He could feel his eyes growing wider behind his glasses. He didn't really know what to think about this. He had thought maybe he would be carried and set on the toilet like Aunt Petunia had done for him only two mornings ago.

"We need to get you up and moving as soon as possible, otherwise it will be more difficult later," Ben said. "And it is fine now to move your residual limb. How's your pain overall?"

"It's not bad," Harry replied. "Residual limb is the rest of my leg, right?" Harry's book knowledge came in handy here, even though at the Dursley's, too much knowledge meant punishment. Here, he was starting to feel a bit safe to share that he was smart and knowledgeable. They didn't think he was a freak.

"Yeah, Harry, that's right," Ben replied and flashed Harry a smile.

"I've read some books," Harry said as Ben help him sit all the way up on the left side of his bed. He felt a passing lightheadedness. Beth brought the cup of water over for him to sip for a moment.