Me and my craziness strike again...
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with him...
Now, Harry would be the first to admit that he'd had a lot of bad moments in his life and that it would certainly be presumptuous of him to even contemplate naming one of these bad moments the worst.
But Harry was sure this moment could go down as the worst day of his life.
Harry couldn't quite recall how the battle had ended up in this desolate deserted part of some muggle town, all that he knew was that by the time the battle had filtered out into the street there was a good possibility Hermione was dead and Remus was following in her ghostly footsteps.
Luckily, the shock still weighed so heavily upon Harry's body he couldn't think about it…course that could've been the adrenaline.
Or the fact that he was being cornered by five Death Eaters who were, obviously, after his blood…there was really no telling.
Harry stumbled backwards trying to save his own skin, hoping he'd be able to carry out this task even though the odds weren't very high, considering the luck Harry'd seen others face.
Of course, Lady Luck and Harry had never really gotten along:
Harry fell straight on his ass after tripping over a large crack in the pavement, and the death eater pursuing him began laughing as they finally closed in around him. Thank god for small mercies, Harry hadn't lost hold on his wand.
Harry's quickly moved to push himself up, and his left hand fell on something cold and rough-textured.
Harry glanced down next to him, and decided he's spoken too soon, and should apologize to Miss Luck. Harry closed his hand around the crowbar and pushed himself to his feet, wasting no time before gripping the crowbar between his right and left hand, his wand flush to the metal, and swinging as hard as he could at the nearest death eater's head.
The man fell out cold, his dented mask clattering aside.
The other death eaters paused, just for a second at this new development, but that was just enough time for Harry to stun another death eater and prepare to strike the next nearest one with the crowbar.
Harry bashed the death eater's shoulder with the crowbar, and the crunch the bones made was more than satisfying enough to make up for the fact that Harry had been aiming for his head. Harry swung the crowbar once more, and this time it collided with the death eater's mask with a strange, sickening crack. The man dropped to the ground, his mask bent in disturbingly, blood seeping out through the eye and nose holes of his mask.
Disgusted and frightened at what he had done Harry ended up dwelling longer than he probably should have…
He was hit with a nasty spell that sent pain lacing straight across his back, Harry's eyes blanked for just a moment. But he couldn't let that one spell decapitate him, he spun around as fast as his injury would allow and yelled, "Impedimenta!"
Harry's blindly cast spell actually managed to hit one of the two remaining death eaters attacking him, but that did nothing to stop the spell the last death eater threw at him. Harry's only instinct was to transfer his wand to his left hand, and throw his right, holding the crowbar, up as a shield.
The spell collided with the metal in a dizzying array of colors and electric-like energy that coursed through the metal of the crowbar and into Harry's body. It didn't hurt; it felt fizzy like coke and charged like static electricity. It floundered in his body for a moment and Harry's brain felt pleasantly cloudy from it, and then with the speed of time start again, it fled from his body through any escape it could find.
He remembered seeing his breath come out a smoky blue-purple, and the same color crackle out of the hair that was long enough to fall into his eyes. Harry couldn't report details though, because at that very moment his hand was hit with an explosion with enough force to throw him several feet away.
The pain was blinding, it felt like his hand had been caught on fire, stabbed, broken, and then pounded with a meat tenderizer. The same pain was scattered across the whole left side of his body, and a strange energy, similar to the one that had flooded him before and way more powerful pushed into his body and then forced itself out again.
When Harry woke up again, he was aware of someone screaming, the noise echoed in his ears painfully, but nothing like the giant, swollen-feeling of being completely made out of blinding pain.
He was aware when he was being rushed through the hallways of Hogwarts, being irritated, in the way a rash was irritating, by whatever it was that was holding him as he watched through his lashes the faces of the students he passed.
He was also aware, despite the complete utter achiness pervading all his senses, that his face itched and his eyes felt like they were melting out of their sockets and down his cheeks.
He heard, felt a large echoing whimper, and then woke up to a blissful floating sensation.
Madam Pomfrey was staring fixedly at something, and Harry felt his lips crinkled up into a goofy smile.
"Hullo," he said woozily, but it sounded strange and distorted to Harry's own ears.
Madam Pomfrey's head snapped up and she smiled at him, after studying his face for a moment, "Hello there, Harry," she greeted, "how are you doing young man?"
Harry felt like he meant to say fine, but a content murmuring sound came out instead.
"That's good," Madam Pomfrey replied, and Harry was glad that she could understand him; they could have such a lovely conversation now.
Harry asked her what she was doing, because it must be interesting if she was studying it that hard. Harry was vaguely aware that it sounded strange, but since Madam Pomfrey could understand him it was okay.
"One of my patients is very hurt," she replied, gently and kindly, "I'm just fixing him up. Are you feeling hurt right now, Harry?"
Her voice was pretty floaty and it made Harry feel tired, so he decided to go to sleep.