Sleep was an elusive creature for Harry that night. And since white-hot pain shot through his ribs every time he turned over, he was stuck on his left-hand side, starting at the bleeping monitors, trying hard to forget all the times he'd felt as helpless and trapped. The nurses seemed to made an agreement amongst themselves to keep him company. They'd been flitting in and out of his room since Sarah and the officer had left. Harry wished they wouldn't bother. He'd had about as much concern from others as he could take. What he needed was help. A practical means of retrieving his things from Private Drive—of contacting the wizarding world.

As he lay immobile in the dark, he churned over every option he could think of. The closet he'd come to finding a solution was to ask one of the nurses to bring him a yellow pages phone book. If he was lucky, Hermione's parents home phone number would be listed. He could call her from the nurse's station. She'd contact Ron for him, and Ron would tell his parents, or maybe Dumbledore, and he'd be out of this place in no time. Where to then he had no idea but anywhere in the wizarding world was better than a muggle orphanage.

Letting out as much of a sigh as his lungs would permit, Harry cocked his head to check the clock on the wall. 2:45 am. Another hour before he was due another dose of painkillers. An hour would be all it would take Madam Pomfrey to fix him up. Maybe even less. He wondered if she'd have to perform some sort of diagnostic charm before patching him up. Though he wasn't sure what confidentiality rules were in place for mediwitches, the idea of the full extent of his injuries being revealed to even her alone was enough to make his insides squirm. As much as yearned to see the wizarding world again, he couldn't stand the thought of anyone knowing about his life outside of Hogwarts. For years, he'd compartmentalised, covered up and made excuses. He wasn't in any rush to change the habit of a lifetime.

A timid knock at the door put an end to his brooding. He looked round more out of curtesy than curiosity. A nurse. From what he could see without his glasses, this one had wispy yellow hair and huge limpid eyes. This was the eighth nurse he'd seen in a matters of hours which meant they had to be taking it in turns to check on him. Harry offered her a weak smile.

"You'll be pleased to hear, this is the last of your antibiotics," she said, shuffling toward him holding a tiny paper cup.

Barely bothering to raise off the pillow, Harry swallowed the pill dry. "Can I get anything to help me sleep?"

"Hmmm, I'll have to ask the doctors about that. Is there something on your mind? Something you'd like to talk about?"

"No," he said quickly, adding a thanks when she bristled.

"All right, is there anything I could get for you? Some more water, a magazine, a book?"

Harry inwardly groaned. Not only were they taking it turns, they seemed to have devised a script. "Has any talked to my aunt yet?" he asked. "Is she going to bring any of my stuff?"

The nurse shifted and fiddled with her name badge. Harry recognised it as a playing-for-time tactic. "I'm afraid your aunt isn't allowed to visit you. I'm sure it wont be for long, just until social services and the police have finished investigating what went on. I know it must be hard on you but I did hear the investigators were talking to some of your other relatives this afternoon."

It took Harry's brain a while to process this but once it did, he dismissed the idea immediately. It had to be this woman's idea of a joke. He wished he was wearing his glasses so he could see her face more clearly. "What are you—"

"I believe they got in touch right after that police man and social worker came to see you," said the nurse confidently.

She waited for his reaction but all Harry could was stare.

What relatives? His uncle had friends in high-places. He liked to remind Harry of that that at least twice a day. Had he gotten in touch some of them, somehow convinced them to lie to the authorities, take his nephew in? It seemed far-fetched, but Harry wouldn't put it passed his uncle. He knew the man would do anything to ensure he still had control over him, after all he had to. He had to make sure Harry would keep his secrets.

"Who. . .why. . .I mean, what did they—"

"They didn't give me any names or any details for that matter. I suppose they thought I might tell you. Oh dear, I suppose, I have told you haven't I?" She bit her lip and backed away slightly, but her obvious guilt didn't put Harry off.

Biting back the pain, he scrambled to the end of the bed. "Do any other the other nurses know? What about the doctors?"

"I'm sorry, dear, but I've said too much already."

Harry looked at her in disbelief. Didn't she understand he had to get answers? That he needed to know who might be coming for him?

"I should get back to the nurses station. If you need anything press the—"

Harry reached out and grabbed her wrist. "Please," he said. "Please, you don't understand

I might be in danger."

The nurses eyebrows arched so far, they practically touched her hairline. Her gaze drifted from Harry's face to his grasp on her wrist.

"I think you might be overreacting a little, dear," she said, though her voice didn't contain the same confidence it had before.

"I'm not, I swear to you, I'm not. My uncle—" he broke off. His uncle what? What could he say that couldn't be used against him?

Harry retracted his hand and sat back on the bed, all too aware the nurse was watching him closely. Playing with the loose threads on his bandaged arm he thought hard. Maybe these mystery "relatives," weren't his uncle's doing. The man was lying in a hospital bed recovering from a car crash after all. He probably wasn't capable of anything devious.

The thought should have been somewhat reassuring but Harry didn't feel any relief for a nanosecond later, another arrived. Another much worse. What if Voldemort was behind it? It was quite plausible that he'd somehow found out about what happened and was seizing the opportunity to get to him when he was unguarded.

Renewed panic spiked through him. He swallowed back a lump of bile and closed his eyes.

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough, dear," said the nurse.

The door creaked as she closed it behind her, leaving the room in darkness and Harry feeling somehow even more alone than ever before.