About Harry

Molly

A quarter of hour passes in this way, I look out of the window into the garden. This room gives to the back of the building. The garden is totally fictional of course but it has been remarked that greenery helps to keep patience's spirit up, that's why the garden. Here, it can benefit only us. Harry has never seen it, Ginny didn't either. Sunrise asks daily to be brought there; there is a swing. Eternally empty.

Harry has been laying immobile in that bed for a week now. When they brought him here, he had been stabilised by the Australian's healers but nevertheless more dead than alive. The healers here worked tirelessly for hours trying every spell, every potion, every plant, every remedy, they could think of, but he is in a deep coma and nothing else can be done if not speaking to him to try to bring him back. He hasn't been left alone for a second; we take turns. Albus is basically living in this room. I convinced him with a huge effort to go at least once a day to the Burrow to take a shower and sleep in a proper bed but after scarcely an hour he is unfailingly back in here.

James, on the other side, didn't show up. Not a single time. He gave me such death stares when I suggested it, I grew quite scared, and I let the matter drop, I can only imagine what is passing in his head and I don't like it at all.

In the garden everything is quiet and forlorn, the season there respects the real season and spring is still so far away.

Regina has stopped whispering and only observes his profile as in a trance, she doesn't see me watching her, she doesn't hear Albus sealing his letter. She is alone with her thoughts and hopes and when, ever so slowly, she raises from her chair, I think she has only decided to get going. I'm about to stand up too to say farewell but I'm stopped in mid gesture.

She is not going.

She lingers there, observing him, then she passes her very well-manicured hand in his hair, smoothing back his curls with a familiarity that slightly startles me.

She stoops over him; her hair falls gently around her face covering Harry's one too but it's anyway visible what is happening behind that brown curtain. She is kissing him, a little more than a peck but still a little less than something that may offend. I don't say anything, still immobile in my half-raised position. I don't intervene. At first because I can see that that kiss is quite an innocent kiss whilst, as she pushes back her hair, I can detect her lips forming a whispered declaration in full form, I can also see there is no malice in what she is doing and I don't judge it necessary to intervene, but what really paralysed me in my uncomfortable position and take my breath away, it is not that.

It is something I'm not even sure it actually happened so stunning it seems. I blink to make sure I'm seeing right, my sight it is not as good as it used to be. But I'm not fooling myself. Harry's fingers twitched! It is not the same limp hand I'm used to see for the last week. There has been a twitch! And a second one confirming what I saw!

I'm so petrified my heart quite stopped. My mouth half open ready to speak can produce no sound, I endeavour to force myself, but it seems beyond my strength to do anything more than gaping stupidly.

Although at the third twitch I finally unfroze.

'Albus!' I bellow making the two youth startle visibly.

'What?' Albus asks and alarmed by my tone looks immediately in the same direction as me although not spotting anything.

'Go and look for the healer' I order peremptory.

'She is on break. She told me...'

'Go and look for another one! Now!' I interrupt him.

Startled by my order and my fixed expression, he glances again to Harry's hand and finally sees it too.