The Contract

Chapter 79

Much to St. Mungo's disgruntlement, Sirius Black refused to budge on his edict. Two healers had come out to talk to him, to caution him against the idea of moving Harry anywhere. He would receive the best care at St. Mungo's and extra travel meant wasted time.

Sirius had wavered for a few seconds, worried primarily, for his godson's health. Yet just knowing that this hospital would do anything and everything to save his godson clinched it. Hell, if it took dark magic to save his godson and his future, his spine, then hell, he'd allow it. How St. Mungo's can live with the idea that they're doing everything when there was other magic available...was unconscionable.

They'd been that petulant over it, that they'd actually brought Harry out to the Emergency waiting area. Instead of allowing them to go to a room to Portkey Harry away. Which allowed a few waiting journalists to get pictures of his godson.

"If any of them are printed you'll find yourself lamped with lawsuits that will last until your grandchildren are old." Sirius warned coolly, eyeing them with something close to immolation. "As for you, you absolutely disgust me, acting in this manner because you didn't get your way...this is about what's best for a child." He spat out at the healers, who couldn't meet Sirius' eye at all.

Sirius ignored them entirely after his words, approaching his godson who looked asleep from a distance. Up close? Very different entirely. He had a magical support brace on his neck, stopping him from moving and aggravating his injuries. He looked gaunt, pale, his hair lanky and disgusting. Touching his face choking back the fear that was threatening to consume him whole. "Let's go," he rasped out, it took less than a second for Rabastan and Rodolphus to appear, portkey in hand ready to transfer Harry to a more secure and helpful hospital.

Then they were off, the jarring journey didn't jostle Harry the slightest. The stretcher along with the magic holding Harry immobile did its job.

Then before Sirius could regain his bearings his godson was whisked away with rapid speed. All he could do was blink at the medical jargon being spoken, as calls for a blood diagnosis immediately.

One of the healers remained behind, a calm and patient aura surrounding him. "Hello, my name is Healer Bello, take a seat, as soon as they're done with the blood diagnosis, we'll be out to explain what happens next and the result of those scans. Which will be in five minutes, at the most." Giving them all a once over, concerned about their appearances. They didn't look to be in the best of health, his instincts were to give them a check-up as well. Heirs Lestrange would be undergoing a check-up, perhaps he could convince this other wizard.

"What about the witch in St. Mungo's? She'll be able to reveal..." it dawned on Sirius, concern colouring his features.

"She can't, our...our dear Headmaster Slytherin cast a privacy ward," Rodolphus almost stumbled, tiredness beginning to get the better of him. Forcing a sardonic grin on his face, thank Merlin he hadn't said anything more. "She'll find herself in dire straits if she attempts to tell anyone." You didn't have to sign your name for this one to be effective.

"Even if she did inform someone, this hospital is very secure, everyone has signed an NDA from healers, patients, visitors and even cleaners." Healer Bellow reassured the wizard. "It's impossible to get in without prior permission." Which they had, admittedly, not much warning to get everything prepared, but they were always prepared to a certain extent. "Heir Potter is safe." He'd like to see a journalist try and get in; they'd need a hospital themselves.

This was a safe heaven, a place for convalescence, healing and care. Famous people all over the world came here to receive treatment and care. Not just famous people either, no, those rich enough to afford their care as well.