CHAPTER TWENTY
THE DURSLEYS' VISIT
Harry could hear a voice crying from a great distance. He tried to reach out to find the woman who was sobbing. He wanted to help her to see what was wrong.
"Don't take my baby ... please ... let him live ..." She was sobbing.
He saw a green light flash in his eyes.
"He's going to be alright, Ma'am." A man said. "His pupils have started to react to the treatment."
His eyes fluttered open for a moment but the light sent rippling waves of pain through his head.
"He's waking up! Quick! Get my husband! He'll be so relieved!" The woman was crying again. "I'm here, honey. I'm here. You can do it! Wake up, please?" She took his hand.
Harry was able to open his eyes and squinted at the brightness that assaulted him. He looked around at the hospital room. He had an I.V. in his arm and he was hooked to a respirator. "Mmmmph ..." He tried to scream. WHERE AM I?! He was screaming to himself desperately.
"Easy, sweetie. You've been out for a long time." The woman was crying still. "Oh, your father and I are so happy that you're awake."
Harry finally looked at the woman who was talking to him and stroking his hand. MOM?! His eyes went wide with shock and horror. Am-Am I dead? He looked around frantically as his father walked into the room. DAD?!
"Harry!" His father said with a wave of relief rushing over his body. He ran to Harry's other side and took his hand. "Son, you're awake! It's been so long!" He started to cry.
The man Harry thought was the doctor came back into the room. "Now that's a sight for sore eyes!" He said with a smile. "You had us worried for a long time, Harry." He walked over and shined a green light into his eyes. "That was one nasty concussion you had there, we didn't think you'd come out of the coma!" He started examining Harry's head and neck.
"Mmmmph!!!" Harry tried to talk again but the tubing kept him from doing so.
"Take it easy, take it easy. We'll have you off the respirator in a few hours." The doctor said. "I'm sure you haven't caught my name yet. I'm Doctor Perkins. You're at the New London Hospital. It's good to see you awake."
The New London Hospital?! Where's Hogwarts? Hermione? Ron? Harry looked about frantically again.
There wasn't anything else he could do, he was strapped to the bed and he couldn't move. All he could do was lie there and listen to his mother and father say how relieved they were that he'd finally woken up. He decided to wait until he could get the chance to speak properly.
A nurse came into the room after an hour or two and beamed a smile at him. "I see my favorite patient has come back to the world of the living!" She checked his vitals and noted them on her clipboard. "We'll have that thing out of your throat in a few minutes. It's not going to feel too pleasant so we'll try and get it out slowly, ok?"
Harry nodded.
After a few minutes Harry was breathing on his own again and his throat was really raw. The nurse gave him a cup of ice and told him to suck on it and not to swallow too quickly. "It's going to hurt for a bit, be careful with the talking as well." She instructed.
"Thank you." He croaked. He looked nervously at his parents after the nurse left the three of them alone. "Where am I?" He croaked again.
"Don't try to talk too much, sport." His dad said. "We rushed you to the hospital as soon as we could. You need to be strong, son."
Harry looked at him and apparently his father knew what he was going to ask.
"Why? Harry, do you know what day it is?" He asked.
Harry thought about it for a second. "November 20, 1997?"
His father smiled. "Yes it is! This is a good sign! It has to be!" The man looked at his wife and smiled broadly. He pulled his chair closer. "Do you know when you got here?"
"This afternoon?" Harry whispered hoarsely.
His father's smile faded and a sad look crossed his face. He shook his head. "No, son. You've been here for six years."
Harry coughed on the ice he was sucking on. "What?!" He tried to yell but it hurt and came out as a whisper. "Th-that can't be!"
"It is, honey." His mother was crying as she put her hand on his arm. "You fell off the garage. We-we didn't think you were going to live." She broke down in tears.
"Your mother's right, Harry. You were playing some game and got on the roof of the garage with a broom. You tried to reach the end of the flagpole and you slipped and fell on your head on the driveway."
Harry reached to his head and felt where his scar was or used to be.
"What? Where's my scar?" He asked bewildered.
"What scar?" His mother asked as she wiped her tears away.
"The one I got when you ..." Harry looked at the people in front of him. "How-how can this be? Y-you died. Voldemort killed you ... I-I was left with a scar ... here ..." He rubbed his forehead again.
His mother looked at him with a sad and curious look. "What are you talking about, honey? We're very much alive and so are you." She looked to her husband.
"Son, what do you mean? What is this Voldermart you just mentioned?" His father asked.
"Not Voldermart ..." Harry whispered exasperatedly. "Voldemort. He's a powerful, evil, dark wizard."
"Does this have to do with those comic books you were reading?" His mother asked quietly. She reached down for her purse and after opening it pulled out a comic and handed it to Harry.
"Tales of Fantasy: The Dark Lord Returns?" Harry was shell-shocked. "What?!"
He quickly opened the book and flipped through the pages. It was all about a trio of teenage witches and wizards that were hunting down an evil wizard named Vadermal who had killed their parents.
"I-I don't understand ..." Harry couldn't believe what he was reading. But there, right in front of him were the three friends: A young boy named Harvey who had a long scar across his forehead, a red-headed boy named Roy, and a young girl named Harmony. Harvey and Roy enjoyed playing wizard ball which was baseball on broomsticks. Harmony was a very smart girl and helped them to cast spells to save them during their adventures.
Harry dropped the comic. "This.Can't.Be.True." He whispered in pure shock.
"What?" His mother asked taken aback. "It-it is, sweetie. You've been in a coma for six years! We were worried sick! We thought we lost you!" She was going into hysterics.
His father went over to her and pulled her into a caring hug.
"Calm down, honey. He's been asleep for six years. M-maybe he was dreaming that entire time ..." He hugged her to him and stroked her vivid, red hair as she started to cry again.
Harry just stared blankly in front of him. This can't be real! It can't! His mind started racing. Maybe I'm dreaming now! He closed his eyes. Breathe deeply. Empty my mind. Step back into the shadows of still and quiet thought. He calmed somewhat but the room remained in front of him. He glanced at his parents.
"You're still here." He said aloud without thinking.
"Yes, we are, Harry." His father said. "We promised you we wouldn't leave you and we haven't. We're sticking to that promise, son."
"Thi-this is a lot to take in ... Um ... Have Ron and Hermione come to visit?" he asked, dreading the answer.
"Are they friends from your school?" His mother asked as she turned back around, tissue in hand.
"Yeah." Harry said excitedly. "They're my best friends! They must be worried!"
His parents looked at each other again then back to Harry. She took his hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Nobody from your school has come to visit, sweetie. Just your father, uncle, aunt, cousin and I have."
"My uncle, aunt, and cousin? They came to visit me in the hospital?" Harry asked with a wide look of shock on his face. "We're talking about the Dursleys, right?"
"We are, Harry." His dad said with a bewildered look on his face. "Dudley was half-mad with grief when you fell into the coma. He was playing with you that day. Don't-don't you remember?"
Harry shook his head gently as he gaped, open-mouthed, at his father. "No. They've always treated me like I was filth. I don't know how many times Dudley would chase me down and beat me up." This is getting too weird for me ... I HAVE to be dreaming!
"Your aunt and uncle haven't ever treated you that way, Harry! They love you as much as we do! You and your cousin would spend hours in the back yard with your toys playing!" His father was pacing the room. "You don't sound like yourself, son. I'll be back with the doctor."
How can this be happening? The Dursleys love me? I played with Dudley for hours? This had got to be a trick of some sort Harry thought. But occlumency didn't help! What-what if all that I've been through ... What if that was all a dream? What if Ron and Hermione were just dreams? Tears started to well in his eyes. Hermione ... Ron ...
A few minutes later Doctor Perkins entered the room with his father. "Harry, I think there might be some mental trauma that you may have experienced when you fell and then when you slipped into the coma. What's the earliest thing you can remember?"
Harry thought as hard as he could. "I remember screaming and a green light." He said after a few moments.
"What do you remember before that? I was flashing the light in your eyes this morning and your mother was crying by your side."
"But that's the earliest I remember." He said after a moment.
"What do you remember then? Even if it's a dream, we can find out what's been going on." Harry's mother was saying. "Don't worry, dear, I'm right here." She took his hand again and patted it reassuringly.
Harry looked into her deep green eyes for a moment then told them about growing up with the Dursleys and being accepted to Hogwarts then finally the last few years spent with his friends.
The doctor nodded sagely. "This happens a lot with coma victims. What's happening is the mind attempting to repair itself. Whatever the victims were reading or watching last tends to take a grip on their subconscious. When they're in a coma, it's hypothesized that the victim's dreams are constructed from those final memories.
"There was a young man in a study who had been in a coma for thirteen years and he had dreamed that he was mobster from the America's. He had been watching a movie about that before his car accident."
"You-you mean to tell me that everything I've been through, all my friends, my school, my girlfriend, all of it was a dream? A lousy dream?!" Harry was horrified and angry, scared and suddenly alone all at once.
"It looks that way, Harry." The doctor said. "I'll contact a psychologist and our best neurologist to run some tests and see if there is any permanent damage. CAT scans and other tests came up negative. It could be something deeper in the brain or in his memory." Dr. Perkins was talking with his father now. "He may be suffering from amnesia; it's common with head trauma this severe."
Harry's father nodded. "Whatever it takes to see my son home and healthy, Dr. Perkins."
The doctor left and a nervous trio entered the room.
"HARRY! YOU'RE AWAKE!" Squealed Dudley and his portly cousin rushed to his side. "I've missed you, mate!" He punched Harry's shoulder lightly, afraid that he might hurt his thin cousin. Tears were streaming down his face.
"Harry, I'm so glad you're ok." Aunt Petunia cried as she came over and gave him a gentle hug. "We were so worried."
"You're a strong young man I'll give you that, Harry." Uncle Vernon beamed at him as he took his hand. "How are you feeling, boy?"
Harry was not prepared for this. "I-I'm ok." He said shyly as he turned away trying to hide behind his mother.
"He's had some sort of strange nightmares about a warty hog and monsters." His mother explained to the family as she led them back to the door. "He's going to need some time to readjust. He was so out of it he had dreamed that you were mean to him and treated him like filth." She whispered, but Harry could just hear what she said.
Aunt Petunia's hands shot to her mouth as she stifled a whimper. "W-what? Why would he ..." His aunt broke down into tears as his mother hugged her.
"Shh, Petunia, it's ok. It has something to do with his comics and the trauma of his accident. He'll come around. Come on out in the hall ..." She looked back at her son and smiled bravely. "We'll be right outside, sweetie. Try and get some rest?" Then she rushed them out of the room.
"Get well, son. We're right here outside the door. Just call and we'll be back." Harry's father closed the door quietly and Harry was alone in the room. He pinched his arm and winced at the pain. He wasn't dreaming.