Book Two: Snape's Memories

Chapter Twenty-eight

Cold, dark water had closed over Harry's head and the Horcrux around his neck dragged him down further. The gillyweed had worn off, his gills disappearing at the end of an hour, to be replaced by lungs that were useless at the bottom of the lake.

He couldn't remember who he was looking for, but he had the idea that they were already safe, so it didn't matter, after all. If his chest would stop its' stupid demands for oxygen, he'd be fine.

Was he in the lake? Or was it a forest pool?

"Harry?" someone was talking to him. Ron, maybe? "If you can hear me, you'll probably feel some discomfort."

Fuck, yes. He heard himself coughing and the coughing caused blue sparks to explode into pain behind his eyes. Thick fluid, tasting of blood, was in his mouth, but then it went away. More coughing.

"Damn it, keep his airway clear." No, that wasn't Ron's voice, but Harry's head hurt too much to for him to consider opening his eyes "What a mess." someone was saying.

"He's got a collapsed lung. Can we decompress it?"

"No, because someone vanished bloody great chunks of it. Shit, we're going to have to regrow it. Fortunately, the other one's intact." Harry was reassured by that voice, he sounded competent. Or perhaps Harry only chose to be reassured.

"What should I tell the wife? She's out there, doing her nut." Hopefully, Ginny wasn't alone as she waited.

The competent voice replied, "It's a nasty repair job, but he's not in too much danger. I'll talk to her when I'm done with this."

Wonderful. He'd been doing something stupid again. Harry hoped Ginny wasn't going to be too angry with him.

"Let's get some..." the voices faded away as the dark water closed over Harry's head again.

Some time later, Harry felt someone take something flexible out of his mouth.

"Harry, if you can hear me, I need you to take a deep breath."

Doing as he was told, Harry was strangely surprised that it was so effortless. It felt so good, he took another one.

"That's great, Harry. I'm going to put you back to sleep now, but the worst is over. Right?"

Harry thought he grunted acknowledgment, but he couldn't be sure.

Uneasy dreams half woke him, later. He tried to turn over to go back to sleep, discovered he couldn't move. He started to panic, thrashing as much as he was able against the spell holding him still.

"Calm down. It's okay." A warm hand on his arm, "The healers don't want you moving about."

That was Ron's voice for sure this time. Harry dragged his eyes open, but the room was dim and fuzzy, "Ron?" no sound was forthcoming.

"You can't talk for a bit." the fuzzy figure raised his wand, "Finite."

With gratitude Harry clenched his fists, released them. "Thanks." he mouthed.

"Just don't fall out of bed and get me in trouble." Ron grumbled.

Nodding, Harry closed his eyes.

Voices were talking near his head.

"...not happy with you."

"Yeah, well, I didn't reckon a panic attack would be much good for his breathing, either."

Someone chuckled, "No, certainly not."

The door opened and shut. Harry slowly opened his eyes. Brought up one hand to rub them, grateful that he could still move.