The Birds and the Bears - Harry Potter Fanfic.

Chapter Eight. Healers Hand.

Chapter Eight. Healers Hand.

Victiore's P.O.V.

            As reality creeps up on me and I slip out of the dream world I recognize a few things. I am in a warm comfortable place. The pain that has been giving me constant agony for days is significantly reduced. I feel safe. Lastly and most importantly Teddy is here. One of his large muscular arms is wrapped loosely around my waist and the other is tucked neatly under my head. I smile and breathe in the piney smell of him, so happy to have my senses back in my control even if my chest still aches sharply when I take a breath. My head is crystal clear, and I know with an unshakable certainty that my fancy for Teddy is not going away. Perhaps it has always been a part of me. Teddy is my best friend, and has been for my whole life. He is my absolute rock, as steadfast and constant for me as Hogwarts is to the wizarding world.

            "Merlins Beard!" a voice jolts me to attention. My reactions are very sluggish and my body is shockingly weak as I turn my head to spot the speaker. A very surprised Healer stands at the entrance to the ward. Her clip board is hanging loosely in one hand and her wand is in the other, until she seems to gather her senses and react. "I have now idea what this man is doing in your bed young lady, but you are seriously ill. He must leave this instant!" I prod Teddy while blushing furiously. I am so embarrassed that I can hardly speak, and my lack of voice isn't helping the situation at all. "Wuzgoinon..." Teddy has graced us with his eloquent conversational skills. He gently unwraps himself from around me. Briefly ignoring the glaring Healer at the base of my bed he kisses me softly on the cheek and says "Oh Vic, I was so worried about you. I thought you might ... blimey I am I glad you didn't." He then unfolds himself from the small bed and stands up, running a hand through his hair and smiling.

            "Healer," he glances down at the woman's illuminated name tag, "Miranda, I am so sorry you had to catch me like this. Your patient is my best friend and I was really worried about her." He gives Healer Miranda a broad grin and the woman seems to soften significantly. "I showed up early this morning," he lies, "And was just so worn out that I must have fallen asleep." He appears so innocent and charming that the woman just tuts and blushes down at her clip board. "Young man, you should really leave. I don't know how you got past the front desk but I must give this patient her check up now. Besides visiting hours don't start 'till nine." He thanks her, apologizes then heads for the door. Just before leaving he shoots me a huge sunny smile, his hair turning to bright gold, the color of happiness. "Be back soon, Vic." 

Teddy's P.O.V.

            I step out into the hall and exhale with relief. The haze of last night lifts, and I can truly live the glory of Vic's recovery. It is amazing and ... well words are inadequate. I whistle my way up to the tea room on the sixth floor. There are several sleepy looking Healers drinking tea and coffee, they are clearly too tired from a long night shift to notice that I am out of place. I reach into my pocket for gold, as I am suddenly ravenous, but find it empty. In my fevered rush from Hogwarts I clearly forgot some things essential for an overnight stay. The long cafeteria tables have sugar cubes sitting in little baskets on them, so I take one and nibble on a corner. After non verbally conjuring a mug, and filling it with water 'Agumenti' I sip and try to quench my hunger. I am still whistling in happiness, and my jubilant emotion is so strong that I inadvertently change all the chairs upholstery from maroon to bright orange. The tea room looks decidedly 70s now, with its brown table tops.

            "Teddy? Iz zat you? Teddy what are you doing 'ere? You are zuppozed to be at 'ogwarts, mon chere. Did you slip away just to zee Victiore?" Fleur Weasley is standing beside her husband in the tea room. I exclaim when I see them, and while I am gripping Bill's hand in a shake, I tell them "Vic's going to be fine, she's going to be alright." Bill seems to sag. In relief or disbelief I can't tell. Fleur eyes me in skepticism, "Teddy it eez ok if you believe ziz, but I do not want you to get up your 'opes. Ma petite Victoire est tres malade. She is very ill, Teddy." I encourage them with a "Just ask the Healers, Mrs. Weasley. She is going to be ok, as sure as Merlin."