::Chapter 38: Aftermath and the Prophecy::

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"But Dad!"

There were three major sounds emerging from the Hospital Wing. Loud complaints, patient attempts at consolation, and periodic, unintelligible moans.

The occupants in the room were few. James, Harry, Sirius and Remus occupied the first four beds, while Ron was passed out on another one on the opposite end, grunting in his sleep frequently. Neville and Luna were also asleep on the opposite side.

"Deal with it, Harry," said Sirius to the restless teenager, sinking his head deeper into the pillows. "You're not being tortured."

"Why do I even have to be here? I'm not hurt!" said Harry irritably. 

I'm sure you're more medically competent than Madam Pompfrey, Harry ," said James, rolling his eyes. He grinned from his own bed, watching his son squabble with his best friend. As the months passed, James was sure that there was no way Harry could get any more like him. Their loathing of being stuck in bed just about sealed the deal, though at the moment, James didn't mind a little rest. A little.

"Why can't you be quiet like him over there?" teased James, nodding his head to where Ron was blissfully snoring away, not hearing a word of the conversation.

"I for one, don't mind the rest," yawned Sirius, comfortably from his corner, voicing James's earlier thoughts. His face had still not returned to its normal shade from it's present pallor. He then nodded towards Madam Pomfrey's office, "But if she doesn't let me out by morning, I might throw a fit."

"I want to leave!" grumbled Harry.

James couldn't help but grin again. Like father, like son. James hated being stuck in bed too, but had learnt to be a bit more tolerant. Inestimable Quidditch injuries during his period at Hogwarts had pretty much made the hospital wing his second dormitory. 

"But I'm fine!" Harry tried again. "It's been two days!''

"If you don't stop being so fidgety, she might have to tie you up to your bed," remarked Remus with a chuckle.

"Did you perform a cheering charm on yourself, Remus?" asked James, shooting an amused look at his werewolf best friend. "You seem too entirely cheerful considering our current predicament."

"I just happen to be very used to bed rest, much more than you, James," shot back Remus good-naturedly. 

Harry, who had been watching this exchange silently from his corner, understood. His former professor probably had a bed specifically for him, thanks to his lycanthropy-caused injuries every month. 

"But she probably gave him a sleeping Draught," said Sirius, jerking his head to where Ron was still snoring.

"Nah, that's normal for Ron," said Harry. "Won't know anything after he's gone under."

Ginny and Hermione had left the Hospital Wing, completely healed. Neville and Luna were passed out in hospital beds in the other side of the room. (And this time, it was a sleeping draught).

Finally realizing that no amount of persuasion-begging or threatening or otherwise-would get him out of the bed, Harry put the matter to rest and stayed quiet.

"What do you even want to do, Harry?" continued Remus. "If I'm right, you have a fair amount of punishments over your head."

Harry sighed. "You could have taken it easier, Dad," he said. "It's my first ever time getting grounded by a newfound father."

"No more arguments, Harry," said James quietly. "You'd be quite wrong if you thought that your actions would have no consequences.

(The night before)

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