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84.48% SOLDIERs in Marvel's Hogwarts / Chapter 98: Chapter 116 & 117 - Hospital

Capítulo 98: Chapter 116 & 117 - Hospital

"Stitches!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT WAS A GENERAL IDEA??!"

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione ran out of the room, a hospital room, knowing that Mrs. Weasley was going to continue for a while.

"Oh, typical Dad," Ginny shook her head, moving up the corridor, "Stitches…I ask you."

"They work well in Non-Magical Communities. Maybe the snake poison melted them?" Hermione said on Christmas. Everything had been going well for the past month, but then all of a sudden, Harry had this dream where Arthur Weasley was hurt and attacked by a snake, allowing them to find him and bring him to the Hospital.

Since they were on their Christmas Holidays, they were staying at the Headquarters of Order of Pheonix and had come to St. Mungo's Hospital, where Arthur was admitted.

"I have to say; both of them have been a blessing. Everything that is going on with Percy and Dad, Mum needed this support," Ginny pressed her lips.

"Percy…he's a git," Ron curled his lips. His brother Percy supported the Ministry and even sent him a letter warning him not to listen to their parents and support Dumbledore. Percy even advised him to stay away from all his friends, Harry for being Harry, Hermione for being Muggle, Tifa and Aerith for being close with Cloud, and even Fred and George for being pranksters, and his parents for being sympathetic to Dumbledore's cause.

"I'll pray for them," Harry looked back at the door, the ones still swinging since they ran out so fast.

"Nah, they handle Mum so easily, they'd make good wives," Ron muttered, walking towards the upper floor since they were going to have tea.

"Don't dream. They are all but married; they even dyed their hair to the color of their daughters," Hermione muttered, "I think they treat them like their daughters."

"It's not just me, right," Ginny leaned forward, "That's so weird. Well…not in a bad way; the three of them have always been like that. And it's not that I love them any less—"

The more she spoke, the more she panicked, shaking her hands until she sighed, "I'll shut up."

Hermione shook her head, "Never seen anyone dug a hole faster than that. But I get it…not what you'd call normal, and they have their reasons."

"Of course, you'd take his side," Ron muttered, only for Hermione to roll her eyes, "Don't talk of things you have no idea about."

"Look, you guys want to fight? Fight? I am going to have tea," Ginny started walking ahead, and Hermione came to walk with her, "I am coming."

Harry glanced toward Ron, scratching his head. He never understood why Ron turned sour whenever Cloud's topic came up. Though Ron didn't have peace as they went to the upper floors, they talked to Healers in their portraits, diagnosing them for condition.

One of them affronted Ron when they commented, "It's a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master. It will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now—"

"Watch who you're calling gruesome!"

"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tightly around your throat—"

"I have not got spattergroit!"

"But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage—"

"They are freckles!!" He looked at his friends and sister, who all kept a straight face, much like the portraits.

"What floor's this?"

They had to go to the fifth, so Hermione guessed that they had climbed enough, "Fifth?"

"Nah, it's the fourth," Harry said when he came to an abrupt halt, staring at the small window in the double door marked with Spell Damage, "Is that Cloud?"

"Cloud?" Hermione ran up to the door before anymore else, looking through the window. There he was, walking to the inner door and welcomed by a motherly-looking nurse. She only had to look once to be sure, "It's him."

She pulled back to read the words on the door, "Spell Damage? Why would he be here? Oh, no, did he get hurt?"

She was about to burst in when Ginny stopped her, "Stay right there."

"What?" Hermione tried to free her wrist when Ginny gave her a look, "Do you think Tifa or Aerith know that he's here?"

"Uh…probably not?" Harry answered before her, "If they knew, then they would have come to meet him by now."

"Exactly, no one knows what Cloud does with his time, but there are rumors in other papers. The Quibblers even list locations where he has been sighted, though I am sure half of them are false, half are correct, since St. Mungo's was one of the locations," Ginny narrowed her eyes, "Ever thought why he abruptly disappeared? I never bought that Dark Wizard story. I always thought he wanted to be out of Ministry's gaze to do something about You-Know-Who. Maybe, we shouldn't bring any attention to it?"

"She has a point," Harry glanced towards Ginny. He didn't know she thought about things this deeply; she was almost right, "Maybe we'd be better off not knowing?"

"I want to know what he's doing in a Hospital, let alone Spell Damage. Maybe he damaged someone and is coming to see them out of guilt?" Ron pushed the door open, and Hermione was thankful for his unresponsible nature for the first time.

"It could very well be that," She said, leaving Ginny and Harry to exchange a tired look, following after them inside.

Hermione bolted into the patient's room, looking around, when her eyes landed on him, "Cloud?!"

He didn't turn back, but someone else leaned sideways to peak, making Harry call out, "Neville?"

"Oh, hi…what are you doing here?" Neville waved his hand, and Cloud looked over his shoulder.

"You should have listened to Ginny."

"Oh, you heard that," Hermione tilted her head, fuming, "And you could have come to see me."

Cloud didn't know how to answer her; thankfully, Neville's grandmother's timing saved his life.

"Oh, are you their friends," She walked over, looking at them, her eyes fixed on Harry for a moment, "You, I know. Harry Potter? Neville talks about you much."

Harry shook her hand, looking over to Ron and Ginny, "And you two…you must be Weasley? I know your parents…not well, but I know. Fine people, those two."

"Hello," Ginny greeted her back.

"And you…you must be Hermione Granger."

Hermione was startled and shot a look towards Cloud, wondering if he talked about her, but Neville's grandmother gave the obvious answer, "You got Neville out of a few pickles. The boy is good; sadly, he lacks his father's talent with the wand."

Neville looked down, though he wasn't upset, and unexpectedly, Cloud defended him: "I have told you before it's not his fault. It's your insistence that he uses his father's wand. If he had his wand, it wouldn't be like this."

"Yes, I'll hear that, but the boy doesn't want a new wand. If you can change his mind, then we'll talk. Till then, I'll say he doesn't have talent."

Neville curled his lips, knowing she only said it now to push him to get a new wand. Whenever he performed wandless magic Cloud had been teaching him, she would light up in joy.

"Why…are you here?" Hermione judged this wasn't new, and they had known each other for a while.

Cloud looked at Neville, who didn't regret it a bit, and told them, "I have been writing Cloud letters. Even though he explained that it was dangerous…but I kept writing and writing until he finally gave in and agreed to treat my parents."

"I didn't give in. I told you with everything going on and Ministry going down in the dumps. I thought it was a good idea that people like Mr. Crouch and your parents and others who got permanently hurt during the First Wizarding War get better. I'd have some support for myself."

"Yes, yes, we know. You don't have a heart, boy," The motherly-looking nurse walked over, patting his shoulder, "Now come over. Mr. and Mrs. Longbottoms are ready. Also, there are a few patients, ones with permanent damage. One made their face hairy; the other has a werewolf problem."

Cloud got pushed forward, complaining, "Aren't you increasing my workload daily? We talked about an hour a day."

"More connections. You were talking about them, right?"

Cloud grunted but kept walking to other rooms to see the patient, and Neville's grandmother laughed.

"Sweetest boy I have met that one."

"Aren't your ears working?" Ron muttered, but she heard it, shaking her head.

"That boy might have a hard mouth, but his heart is soft. He has even been training Neville so his parents could be proud when they see him."

"I thought…their minds," Ginny cautiously asked. When Moody was their teacher, Neville told others, and she had only heard it recently, but when she asked her parents, they told her in detail.

"We don't know how he does it," Neville answered with excitement, "But for two weeks now, there have been instances where they came out of the fog, and they remembered me and talked to me. Although it had only happened a few times while I was here, they have a dairy. Whenever they are sober, they write things down. My dad has been giving me tips on how to better my magic too."

Harry looked at Neville, he had never seen him talk so much, and so excitedly, he pressed his lips, giving him a hug, "Congratulations."

He couldn't say he was happy with all his heart since it stung that his parents would never return, but he was still happy that Neville's were starting to return to themselves. If not for anything else, then what Cloud said about Ministry being in denial and having more friends in places Voldemort wouldn't expect.

"Oh, right," Harry hastily remembered something, apologized to Neville, and asked them to come with him. He took them to the hall, and they did follow, only because the look on his face made it seem like he had seen a ghost.

"What? I thought Ron would be making that face right now," Ginny said, snickering.

"Why would I?" Ron curled his lips.

Harry covered his face, "You need to obliviate my memory of what happened at the hospital today."

"What? Why?" Hermione was still lost in her thoughts of Cloud, but she was pulled out hearing such an absurd request.

"I saw Mr. Weasley get attacked. I even felt a few bouts of anger and impatient over the year, and I thought I had defended my mind from Voldemort…Cloud did teach me, and after that, Snape did. Although he never forgot to remind me that it was a favor for Dumbledore. Anyway…I now realize how stupid it was to think that I could always defend myself against him. If he wants, he could get in my head, and if he learns that Cloud is treating everyone, he might attack this place."

Hermione screwed her eyebrows, "If he knows that…and he probably just might. After all, the people here were those that got broken because of their will to fight. You have this memory…. Still, we should ask Aerith about that; she's good at it and will not only remove this part but will replace it with something believable. If it's gone, then You-Know-Who might get suspicious."

"We are not getting that tea, are we," Ginny sighed, shrugging, "Fine. Let's go."

"Harry," Hermione hesitated, and Harry knew what she wanted; he smiled at her, "I'll keep them busy for a while. Make the best use of your time."

"You are the best!" Hermione grinned and lunged through the door, stopping, walking properly as she found her way to Cloud, curious about him.

She blinked, finding him standing beside a bed, near the man and woman who looked a bit like Neville or Neville looked like them.

He looked up at her and shook his head, gesturing towards the door, telling her to get out, but she was curious, "How are you treating them?"

She saw the nurse holding a box, protecting it as if it was the most precious thing in the world, but before she could even ask, Cloud rudely said, "Get out."

"Ok, I won't talk," Hermione thought she was disturbing him, so she went quiet, but he didn't do anything. He looked at her and pointed at the door, "Get out."

Hermione's lips squirmed; it had been a while since she felt him drift apart. It wasn't the same as it was that month, or maybe it was because the bond he shared with Tifa and Aerith was much stronger than anything they had.

"Just leave," Cloud said again, and she bit her lip, nodding as she turned around, marching off. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wanted to run, but she collided with someone on the next turnout.

"Sorry," She apologized, trying to leave when a thin, claw-like hand held her wrist, making her look up with blurry eyes at the woman who stopped her.

"Uh…" She was Neville's grandmother, but she didn't know her name, "Mrs. Longbottom."

"What? The boy made you cry?"

"No…it's nothing…maybe I was wrong about what we had," Hermione wiped her tears, only to get knocked on her forehead by a wooden stick.

"Ouch."

"And I heard you were the smart one," She patted her back shoulder, "Come here."

She walked a few steps forward, and Hermione could see through two glasses at once to see Cloud and Longbottom from a particular angle.

"My spot, I stand here and watch him treat them, times when they are sober… it makes me want to rush it and hug them, but I know…only an hour a day, and in that hour they should focus on getting better, sorting out their memories. Get better."

Hermione bit her lip, looking down. She didn't want to be disrespectful or unsympathetic, and she was happy that they were getting better for them and Neville, but right now, she only wanted to get away from here.

"How do you think he does it?"

"I…." Hermione thought it was the Jenova Cells when Neville's grandmother spoke again.

"Good, it seems you have an idea, but hear from what this old lady's eyes have seen. See that nurse? Miriam Strout. She's a kind young thing, a bit naïve, sometimes even inattentive, but she more than makes up for it by how devoted she is to them. But even she protects that box as if it's a precious treasure. I have observed him for a month to know the complicated procedure, and this is only my guess. Inside that box is a drop of blood with their memories; each patient has a tube in it. He takes that drop, puts it in them each day, then the next, he takes that drop in his body, that is when—"

She stopped, and Hermione gasped, seeing Cloud nearly fall, supporting himself against the bed, probably sweating, and she couldn't see from here, but she was sure he was in pain. She was about to rush over when the woman stopped her.

"Yeah. The next day, he takes it in his body and then lets his finger bleed, two drops of blood, one pure, containing the patient memory. The other, containing their pain—he goes on to destroy the other," Augusta Longbottom, Neville's mother, said.

She stopped for a moment, and Hermione tried to free herself, yet, this old woman had more strength than she imagined.

"Do you know why Unforgivable Curse can't be cured? You can erase the mind's memory but not the body and soul. Yet, that boy has somehow found a way to keep their memory, not including that of the tragedy, preserved, reminding them every day and siphoning off the memory of mind, body, and soul, the memory of pain. But to separate their memory and memory of pain…he needs to take that blood in him, and he feels the pain…not all of it, but only a bit of it."

Hermione parted her lips, glancing towards Augusta, who let go of her hand with tears in her eyes.

"That boy…he puts on a callous, calculating front, but he's the most kind-hearted person I have ever known. It saddens me…to know what he's doing and not being able to stop him because I am a selfish old woman who wants her son and daughter-in-law back."

Hermione wiped the corner of her eyes, giving Augusta a hug she needed, "Neville doesn't know?"

Her claw-like hands held Hermione's shoulder; Augusta seemed desperate, "The boy can never know! In his heart, he would never be able to forgive himself!"

"Ok, ok," Hermione nodded, pressing her lips, when her eyes abruptly widened, "Oh no! I have to warn him!"

Hermione pulled away from Augusta, rushed inside Ward 49, and hastened her steps, nearly running, "Cloud!"

Cloud looked up, wiping the sweat from his cheek, his neck muscles were still twitching, and he still shot her a look, "I told you to go away."

"I know!" Hermione helped him, putting her arm around his waist, "Aerith is here. And Harry just went to see her because he thought he should erase the fact that you were ever here, lest You-Know-Who gets wind of what you are doing. But she is bound to come here if she realizes… it will devastate her too."

"I told you… You three always make trouble," Cloud put his hand on the bed to keep himself up, his head was ringing, but he took a deep breath, ignoring the pain, "Miriam. The box."

"Yes," Miria put the box made of a magical wood, covered in enchantments, and opened it with a unique print of her own as he put his finger on top of it, and a drop of blood fell in one of the many test tubes. He used the telekinetic force to stop any more blood from coming out and used magic to heal the cut.

"I'll change others later. Not a word of this to them."

"Ok," Miriam respectfully said, leaving to hide the box, and Cloud looked at Hermione, who nervously looked down, gathering the courage to shoot a look at him.

"Don't ever talk to me like that again!" She raised her voice a little, but her courage soon waned, "Not unless…um…you know…you stop feeling like that way for me…and uh…em…."

"Ok," Cloud wiped the sweat, glancing towards her, "Sorry…that I did."

"Mm," Hermione nodded, speechlessly standing, and argued without conviction, "We don't…make trouble everywhere we go."

"Right…?"


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