Wallflower

I awoke to the sound of screaming. An elderly lady called out “Help… Help… Help!” In a daze I rubbed at my eyes with my left hand in a fist and tried to push myself up in the disastrously uncomfortable bed I had been asleep in. My clothes felt stiff and scratchy against my skin, and baggy… much too large for my stature. A small breeze hit my back that I noticed was bare and the confusion set in. “What in the world…” I said to myself. Opening my eyes I couldn’t recognise the place I was in. There were white walls with a small and almost unnoticeable pattern on the wallpaper, and curtains everywhere segmenting me from whatever else was in the room.

“Oh, good that you’re up Dear. How are you feeling?” Molly asked from my side. I turned to see her knitting the muggle way, sitting in what looked to be an uncomfortable chair.

“Tired and confused. Uhm… where am I?” I asked shyly, not sure how I could phrase the question without sounding rude.

“Well after your fall we didn’t have much time to debate about where to take you. We couldn’t very well have you at St. Mungo’s where you could have been taken, and there were no healers that we could ask over. We had to bring you to a muggle hospital dear.”

“Oh…” I said and ran my fingers through my hair. A few strands fell in front of my face and I noticed something that wasn’t quite right at all. Panicked I grabbed a handful of my long hair and held it in front of me. “It’s red!” I whisper-shouted in horror. I loved my dark hair, it was the only true likeness of my father in me.

Molly placed her hand on my arm gently, “Sorry Dear, but in case anyone came asking we had to have an alibi. We’ve magicked your hair red, and the doctors think you’re Ginny. You’re posing as her until you’re recovered in case they find out your father is missing and want to put you in an orphanage.” She said quietly. Should anyone over hear the plan would be a failure, so until I was home I would have to get used to being “Ginny Weasley”.

“Oh, well I appreciate you’re looking out for me and awareness of the situation. Thank you, Molly.” I said to her half-heartedly with a small smile.

Now I took the time to survey the damage. Looking down a mass of white engulfed my forearm, there were several bandages around my hand and I could feel something wrapped tight around my shoulder making it even more difficult to move my right arm. Bandages also wrapped my ankle tightly, the one I had twisted, and just looking at all of my injuries made me a touch lightheaded.
“Molly… or Mum, sorry?” I called quietly. “What’s wrong with me?” I asked nervously. I almost didn’t want to hear.

“You broke your forearm, dislocated your right arm from your shoulder entirely, sprained your ankle badly and busted up your hand quite badly. The corner of the coffee table punctured the skin in the middle and went straight through and injured some muscle and ligaments. It’s going to be a while before you can use that hand again.”

“How… how long before we can go home?” a timid voice I wasn’t aware I had said.

She put her knitting down, “The doctor should be coming by soon to check up on you, we can ask him then.” She patted my good arm and got up. “I’ll go see where abouts he is now.”

“Thank you, Mum.” I called, still now sure how I liked calling her such a name. Albeit, now that I think about it she was quite similar to my birth mother. Both had red hair, and a very nurturing, motherly instinct. Mrs. Weasley was Molly, my mother was Melinda. Now that I thought about it they were similar, in looks, personality and physical appearances.

I put the thought out of my mind and looked up as a taller man, perhaps in his forties dressed in a medical uniform. “Hi Ginny, I’m your doctor. Dr. Jacobson.” I said and came over to check my shoulder and my ankle. “That was a pretty nasty fall you took.” He commented idly as he looked. I simply nodded, not one to talk much as I had mentioned before. Once he finished looking me over he asked a few standard questions, “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m feeling fine thank you.”

“Any pain at all anywhere?”

“No, none Dr. Jacobson.”

“You remember the event clearly?”

“Yes, every detail.” I provided him with the best answers I could and offered a smile when necessary.

“Well you seem to be recovering fine to me. But you’ll have to use your right arm as little as possible until the cast is off, and perhaps a little longer. All depending on how your arm, hand and shoulder are healing of course. I would recommend no writing until you can flex and close your fist without any pain, and the puncture wound is completely healed over.”

“Yes, of course. When will I be able to go home?” I asked politely, trying to think of how I would get everything done without the use of my right hand and arm.

“If you’re feeling up to it, you can leave as soon as you’re ready. I’ll bring up the discharge papers for you to fill out Mrs. Weasley and then you can go.” He supplied with a smile looking at myself and Molly.

Molly pulled out some clothes for me and handed them to me to get dressed. She then stepped outside the curtains after a grateful nod from myself and I tried to dress myself. Upon further inspection I noted that the outfit was a loose fitting blouse and a pair of long, fitted jean shorts. With plenty of difficulty I shimmied my bummed arm into the short sleeve and then finished the rest of the task which was nearly as difficult.

A sigh of relief escaped my lips once I was finally done, my shorts and shirt on and my feet in my normal boots. I noticed that my wand was nowhere to be found and panicked shortly before remembering that this was a muggle hospital, and it would have been left at the house. I stood from the bed, not overly wobbly on my sprained ankle but a small amount of pain was there, and pulled aside the curtains to see Molly filling out some paperwork and talking to the doctor. “I’m ready to go Mum.” I said quietly.

“Ah, Ginny right on time. I’ve just about finished and Dr. Jacobson was just telling me about some exercises you might want to do to strengthen your arm.” Molly said kindly.

I looked at the doctor and listened to what he had to say, I would most likely remember it and if not I could just look up something in a book. Once everything was said and done we walked out of the hospital and onto the street. It was a nice, sunny day out, and was a nice comfortable temperature. “Come on Dear, the house is just down here. We’ll walk and enjoy the weather.” Molly offered me a smile and I returned it, walking by her side.

We walked in silence and after roughly ten minutes arrived in front of where I knew the house was. Molly looked sharply down the road either way and made sure no one was looking before the entrance appeared and we scurried inside before anyone could have a peek. When we were inside she shut the door and I adjusted the sling around my arm, holding it in place, and checked the bandages on my hand for blood.

Molly slid past me in the narrow hallway and called out, “Kids? We’re home!”