A/N:
Disclaimer: I don't own House, MD or Harry Potter, though I'd really settle for either.
Please review if you like the story, it just popped into my mind and if there doesn't seem to be interest in it, I probably won't continue. So, enjoy, if there's any other person on the planet who loves House and Harry Potter. This will probably be H/G, H/Cam, R/Hr, etc. etc.
One sunny afternoon, two British teenagers strolled into the clinic at Princeton Plainsboro, arguing heatedly under their breath.
"'Mione, this will never work!" hissed the girl with bright red hair, who appeared to be the younger of the two.
"This may be his only chance!"
"They're Muggles!" whispered the red-head angrily, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
"Ginny—just—"
"May I help you?" asked the nurse, eyebrows raised, as the girls approached the desk. They looked at each other nervously.
"Er—yes, actually," said the girl with bushy brown hair. "Hello, we're only in the States for a short time and my friend," she said, nodding towards the red-head, "is quite sick and needs to be checked out before we head home."
"What's the matter with her?"
"Well, everything really," said the girl with the bushy hair again, as the red-head nodded emphatically. The nurse frowned.
"All right. Here. Fill this out," she said, handing the first girl a clipboard. "Who is your insurance carrier?"
"Well, um…you see… the problem is… I'll have to make a quick phone call," said the girl, avoiding the question and looking around the room. "Er—is a Dr. House on clinic duty, by any chance, today?"
"Your insurance, Miss…?"
"Granger. Hermione Granger. Listen, I really think that we need to see Dr. House, it's urgent, and—"
"Miss Granger, I can't let you do that unless you tell me your insurance carrier."
"Well, of course she has insurance, but I really need to—"
"You called?" asked a voice loudly, startling Hermione as she whipped around.
"You're Dr. House?"
"Dr. House, if they don't have insurance then I can't allow—"
"What's the problem?" asked House, limping towards them in a bored manner.
"Please, Doctor, we need to speak to you. It's urgent."
"How urgent?" asked House, glancing at the red-head, who was closing her eyes and clutching her head in a very unconvincing way. "Oh my," he began loudly after thinking the situation over for a moment. "This is urgent! Come on, quickly. Tell Cuddy that this is an emergency; there's no way I can do clinic duty the rest of the afternoon! What's your name?" he shot at Hermione, grabbing the clipboard from her hand and beckoning her into one of the Clinic rooms.
"I'm Hermione Granger," she said, following House with an air of determination, "And this is Ginny Weasley." The three entered a clinic room and House shut the door.
"So what's the emergency? Selling Girl Scout cookies?" asked House, yawning as he sat down in a chair.
"Well," began the girl called Hermione, biting her lip thoughtfully. "I had better start off telling you that Ginny isn't really sick."
"No!" gasped House sarcastically as he watched Ginny, who had been moaning and clutching her stomach.
"How'd you know?" asked Ginny, annoyed as she sat up.
House ignored her as he looked to Hermione. "What do you want? This had better be good, because I'm almost on level ten," he said, pulling out his Gameboy. He noticed one of the girls, Ginny, staring at it in awe.
"We need you to take on this case." House pressed the pause button and started keying away, deep in concentration. "It's our friend. He's extremely sick, and there are going to be horrible repercussions if he isn't healed. I heard about you from a friend of my parents who's seen you speak, and I think that if anyone can Heal him, you can. Are you listening?" she added angrily as House cursed loudly, still playing his Gameboy.
"You just made me fall off a cliff," he complained, looking up. "What's wrong with your friend? Why didn't you send a letter or something?"
"We did," explained Hermione eagerly. "But we needed to tell you in person; there's no way you would've accepted the case based on what we could write—and you didn't."
"What's wrong with your friend?" repeated House, wondering why they couldn't have just written it in a letter.
Hermione looked at Ginny nervously. "You see—there's something we need to tell you."
"And here I am thinking you just wanted to watch me get to Level 11."
"Okay, you are going to have trouble believing this," said Hermione, ignoring House's frustrating disposition.
"Try me."
"Ginny and I—and our friend—are not exactly what you'd consider normal."
"Define normal," said House slowly, putting down the video game and looking at the teenagers.
"We're Witches. And he's a Wizard. Wand-waving, Potion-brewing, magical people."
"Psychosis," muttered House thoughtfully. "Maybe I will take the case—if it's contagious, we may have a problem…." Hermione sighed.
"I was afraid you'd say that. All right," she said, reaching for her wand. "Er—is there anything in here you wouldn't mind losing?" she asked, searching around. "Oh, of course. The clipboard. Accio clipboard." The clipboard flew from House's arms and into Hermione's. Dr. House looked stunned for a moment.
"Nice trick," he said finally. "Where'd you learn to do that?" Ginny sighed with annoyance.
"Should I do the Bat-Bogey Hex?" she asked.
"No!" exclaimed Hermione. "We need to get him on our side, not make him call the Muggle Police."
"Police?" asked Ginny, confused. "What's a Police?" House was suddenly becoming very interested. What kind of sickness was contagious, made its patients suffer from psychosis, and forget things from daily life?
"Muggle Aurors," explained Hermione quickly. "Hmm…" she said thoughtfully. After a moment, she pulled a miniature broomstick from her pocket. "Finite Incantatem," she said clearly, and the broom suddenly grew into a normal-sized broomstick. "D'you believe us yet?" she asked, looking at House desperately. He remained silent for a moment, thoughts churning.
"All right, I'm going to Apparate to the other side of the room," she said decisively. She then spoke under her breath. "Destination, Deliberation, Determination." A split second later, a loud crack sounded and she was standing on the other side of House."
"Is this Wilson's idea of a practical joke? Who are you people? Tell Cuddy I'm still not doing clinic duty for her next Tuesday."
"We're not kidding around. Doctor House, our friend is in trouble. There's a War going on right now in the Wizarding World. Our friend Harry is prophesized to stop Lord Voldemort, who wants to basically rule the world and kill all Muggles—non magical people," she explained quickly, "And something's wrong with Harry and no Healers (Magical doctors) can figure it out and St. Mungo's has been infiltrated with Voldemort's spies and we think it's a Muggle ailment and you're really our last hope." She let out the rest of the air she'd been holding in and breathed quickly.
"Why doesn't she talk?" asked House, nodding at Ginny.
"Because I'm not as familiar with Muggle terms… Doctor. Hermione was born a Muggle. We go to a boarding school for learning magic in Scotland—you won't have heard of it. Some people, when they turn eleven, receive letters inviting them to the school because they're magical. Others are born that way. There's a pretty large community of Magical people here in America, too."
"Does that broomstick fly?" asked House after a moment.
"Yes," said Ginny emphatically, grabbing it from Hermione's hands and mounting it. She took care to take off slowly and stayed close to the ground as she flew for a moment.
"Where's the engine?" asked House, smirking.
"It's Magic!" exclaimed Hermione, annoyed. "Listen. You have to believe us. We'll pay for your flight to England, you and any other doctors who can help. We'll give you food. We'll let you board at the school. Just please believe us, and please help Harry get better. If he dies—the world is doomed. And you don't have an idea of how literal I'm being, do you?" she asked, sighing as she collapsed onto a chair.
"Dr. House," began Ginny, a fire in her eyes. "If you don't come, we can make you. Shall I Imperio him, Hermione? Because I will!"
"Calm down, Ginny," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Listen. We'll pay you whatever you want to take this case. We'll pay for all the work you're missing. I'll even throw in a flying motorbike. What do you have to lose? If it's a practical joke, you'll be home in two days anyway."
House stood up, not believing what was unfolding before his eyes, or what he was agreeing to. "You can't make me do anything. You're kids. But I'll go. I'll need to bring along three doctors—if it's Cancer, we'll have to fly a fourth in. And I'll need correspondence with the Hospital."
"Anything," said Hermione. "Here are five tickets to England tomorrow morning at Four O'clock."
"AM?" demanded House.
"Yes, in the morning. Now, we just got five because we didn't know how many people would need to come, but you can go ahead and bring another person or just not use the ticket. We don't care. Someone will be at the Airport waiting for you when you land. I'll need you to obviously tell the other doctors and perhaps a supervisor about the conditions, but please keep it at a down-low. The last thing we need is the world finding out about us at a time like this. You all might be at Hogwarts for awhile, so bring enough luggage to stay comfortable. Tonight, I'll fax you everything you need to make the case look like one of a normal Muggle; a Medical history and an alias and all that." House nodded, dazed. What was he doing? Maybe the vicodin was getting to him. Why the hell was he going along with all this?
"Thank you, Doctor House. This means more than you can imagine. You are quite possibly saving the world." She sounded completely sincere. "We'll see you tomorrow. Have fun doing Clinic duty, I can tell you must really love it," she smiled.
"You said a flying motorbike was involved?" asked House, pulling his pager out.
"If you really want it, it's yours," said Ginny, chuckling. "Please send us a list of medical machinery you'll need tonight, Doctor. Hermione will give you the fax number you can reach us at—we'd send an Owl, but an ocean is a long way to travel." House ignored that last line as the girls walked out of the Clinic and popped a pill. This was insane. One question remained: how to break it to the Ducklings?
Their reactions were very similar to what House's own had been.
"Are you insane?" demanded Foreman.
"Maybe you took a painkiller too many this morning, House; I mean, it happens," said Cameron in a would-be soothing voice.
"What do you think, Chase?" asked House after Cameron and Foreman argued for a minute. The two fell silent.
"Well," began Chase apprehensively. "It's not a joke. Magic…people, anyway. My father had some relative—a brother or cousin or nephew—someone was magic. Part of why we stopped talking. I just—when I found out, I couldn't believe he was buying into it all, and…well…the rest is history."
"Oh my God," began Cameron, groaning. "Is there an epidemic raging through this hospital?" She looked at Foreman incredulously.
"Do you actually buy this?" she demanded.
"When there were just people doing—magic, in this hospital, and they convinced House, and Chase knows about it—well it's kind of hard to argue."
"Has Cuddy agreed to this?"
"Well I wasn't going to share with her the exact circumstances," said House slowly.
"I don't believe this. I don't believe it!"
"Yeah, we get that," snapped Foreman. "What time are we leaving?"
"Plane leaves at Four. Get to Newark at three."
"In the morning?" groaned Chase, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"Unfortunately, yes."
"House?" asked Cameron suddenly. "If there is such thing as magic, won't they be…different? Somehow? Medically?"
"I guess we'll find that out, won't we?" asked House as he limped from the room. "Three A.M! Cameron, bring coffee."
"He sure was some piece of work," said Ginny as she and Hermione arrived in the Floo of McGonagall's office.
"Is he coming, girls?" asked McGonagall, looking up from her desk the moment she saw them enter.
"Yes, he and three other doctors will be arriving tomorrow. We'll need to send someone from the order to pick him up. Preferably they can settle into Hogwarts before the rest of the school arrives."
"Severus should be up to it," said McGonagall absently, shuffling through some papers. "The Ministry's too full of Order members and Death Eaters to detect him and be able to follow him at the same time. And most everyone else is on some mission…."
Snape had been cleared by the Order once they had looked through Dumbledore's will and through the letters he had written to various order members. Dumbledore had told him to kill him—he had been dying already, apparently. Minerva still had trouble believing it. Any of it. They hadn't told the Ministry for fear of alerting the Death Eaters to Snape's true alliances (though Minerva still couldn't shake off a nagging suspicion that Snape was with whoever won). The man had been forced to parade around as a Muggle for the summer, while the Order had taken Draco Malfoy and his mother into hiding at Headquarters, which were getting too painful and crowded for the Headmistress' tastes.
"Snape and House should have fun with that," said Hermione, examining her nails. She was quiet for a moment. "I hope he can heal Harry."
McGonagall sighed sadly. Harry had fallen into a coma after destroying the Locket Horcrux, which Mundungus had sold to Borgin and had fallen into the hands of the Malfoys. Draco had redeemed himself by coming forward with it after eavesdropping on the "Dream Team" and Ginny at Grimmauld Place. Harry had decided to destroy it with the sword of Gryffindor. And it had worked—except Harry fell ill within the hour, coming out of his coma at random moments, in delirium. The Order had brought in some Healers they could trust, but to no avail. None of them could find anything magical that was wrong with Harry. After a few weeks, Miss Granger had begun doing research, and had stumbled across a Doctor in the States with a lot of experience in finding out what was wrong with people. McGonagall only hoped he would be able to save Harry. If You-Know-Who…no, Voldemort discovered where Harry was, or worse, his condition, they were all doomed.
While Harry had slept for the past month, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, with occasional help from Lupin, Snape, McGonagall, and other Order members, had tracked down another Horcrux but were not totally sure how to destroy it. Without their friend, Hermione and Ron had been bickering more than ever, and Ginny had been more and more withdrawn. It was only a matter of time before the Press found out about the sickness—they were already having a field day with the "disappearance" of Malfoy, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny.
McGonagall turned back to her students. If this Doctor House didn't have the answers, she certainly hoped that some higher power did, and that the answer wasn't one that would include the world's imminent demise.
A/N: Review!