The Hospital Heist (Patreon)

What if the events down the trap door had taken place earlier, just in time for Harry to wake up, hours before the Quidditch Finals? And to play, he had to escape from Madame Pomfrey? Read and find out!

(This story is set at the end of Harry’s first year at Hogwarts, AKA, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.)

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The Hospital Heist

Light shone against the wrinkles in the white bedsheet over Harry’s legs, glinting off the wrappers and glittering greeting cards propped on the table near his legs.

“Now, enough questions.” Dumbledore patted his leg. “I suggest you make a start on these sweets.” Dumbledore’s long fingers riffled through the packets of chocolates on the table. “Ah! Bettie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them.”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he opened the packet and removed a golden-brown bean from it.

“But I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”

The headmaster popped the bean into his mouth and immediately choked on it.

“Alas!” Dumbledore’s face wrinkled. “Ear wax! My luck with the beans is as rotten as ever.”

Harry smiled as the Headmaster walked away and Madame Pomfrey bustled toward him.

“So, Potter,” Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over him, tapping its tip to his forehead. “I see you’ve woken up and are coherent.”

“Yes.” Harry watched the tip of her wand hover in front of his eyes.

Suddenly, chills spread down his body and goosebumps erupted over his skin.

“W-what was t-that?” Harry’s teeth chattered.

“A medical spell, Potter.” She said. “What else should I be casting over you?”

“A less colder spell, perhaps.” Harry breathed as the cold faded away with a wave of Madam Pomfrey’s wand.

“Very funny.” She sniffed. “Now, if you would—”

The door of the hospital wing burst open and Hermione and Ron ran in.

“You’re awake!” Hermione beamed at him, taking a step forward.

“No.” Madam Pomfrey strode toward them, brandishing her wand. “Out.”

“But Madam Pomfrey—” Hermione protested.

“No, Mr. Potter must rest. He has been through an ordeal and—”

“Just five minutes please, Madam Pomfrey.” Harry called.

The matron whirled around on him. “Absolutely not.”

“You let Professor Dumbledore in!” Harry protested.

“Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest.”

“I am resting. Look?” Harry pointed to himself. “Lying down and everything. Just five minutes please.”

“Oh, very well.” She huffed. “But five minutes only. After that, you need your rest.”

As Madam Pomfrey walked away, back into her cabin, Hermione and Ron rushed to his bedside. Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him but settled for grabbing the edge of his bed really tight.

“Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to—” Hermione wrung her hands. “Dumbledore was so worried —”

“The whole school’s talking about it,” said Ron. “What really happened?”

So, Harry told them the tale from Quirrell to their fight to who was behind Quirrel’s head.

The last one elicited a near-scream from Ron.

“So what happened to you two?” Harry asked.

“Well, I got back all right,” Hermione replied. “I brought Ron round — that took a while and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall — he already knew — he just said, ‘Harry’s gone after him, hasn’t he?’ and hurtled off to the third floor.”

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” Ron’s forehead creased. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?”

“Well,” Hermione exploded, “If he did — I mean to say — that’s terrible — you could have been killed.”

Harry shrugged. “So, what’s on with the school?”

“Well, there was a lot of speculation about what happened.” Ron said. “But since yesterday, the talk’s been all ‘bout today’s finals.”

“Wait, Quidditch finals?” Harry’s eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

Harry threw off his blankets. “I need to be there. I am the seeker!”

“But Harry you can’t.” Hermione said. “Madam Pomfrey—”

“Where do you think you’re going, Mr. Potter?” The matron hurried out of her office, her eyes glinting.

“Err… Bathroom?” Harry lied.

She stopped, peering at him through her glasses. “Very well. Down here on the left. You two should get going.”

“We are about to leave, Ma’am.” Hermione said. “Just a couple of minutes.”

Madam Pomfrey gave a nod, quietly returning to her office as Harry got to his feet. “Listen, I cannot be stuck here. Gryffindor will lose without a seeker.”

“But Madam Pomfrey said you have to stay here.” Hermione said.

“Hermione, I can’t.” Harry rose to his feet carefully holding on to the bed.

“But she won’t let you leave.”

“Of course she won’t.” Harry glanced at Madam Pomfrey through the window of her office. “Listen, you need to break me out of here.”

“What? How?” Ron blurted.

“You have to figure it out.” Harry smiled at Madam Pomfrey, giving her a wave as she looked up. “I need my Nimbus. I can change in the locker rooms.”

“The match is in an hour, Harry.” Hermione glanced over her shoulder. “And she’ll know as soon as you step foot out of the bed.”

“He can fly out.” Ron glanced at the translucent windows of the hospital wing through which sunlight streamed in. “We blast open the windows and Harry flies out on his broom as fast as he can toward the pitch.”

“And you also need to distract Pomfrey till the match starts.” Harry said. “Once the match starts Wood can prevent her from taking me away.”

“But how do we get you the broom?” Ron frowned. “Without the broom, you’d die!”

“I am not jumping out of the window without my broom, Ron.”

Hermione’s lips tugged into a triumphant grin. “I have your cloak, Harry! I can sneak the broom under it and open the windows for you.”

“Brilliant.” Harry said, straightening as Madam Pomfrey stood up from her seat. “Someone needs to bring my quidditch robes to the locker room. And remember you need to keep her busy—”

“You both. Out. It has been fifteen minutes.” Madam Pomfrey glared at Ron and Hermione. “Out!”

Hermione and Ron nodded and Harry shared a look with them as they hurried out.

“Potter, you were going to the bathroom, you said.” The matron raised an eyebrow at him as he sat back down.

“Of course.” Harry quickly stood up and gave her an innocent smile. “That’s what I am about to do, Madam Pomfrey.”

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Harry’s fingers drummed underneath the bed sheet as he pretended to be asleep waiting for Hermione and Ron.

His attention was drawn to the window as it slowly creaked open.

“Psst… Harry.” Hermione’s voice rang next to his ear and Harry twitched, smothering the urge to turn around. “I have the Nimbus and I’ve locked the door of Madam Pomfrey’s office. Ron is outside, ready to cause a distraction along with Seamus.”

“Slip the Nimbus beneath my bed sheets.” Harry mumbled from the corner of his mouth. “Broom bristles toward the wall so I can fly out of the window.”

Harry heard his bedsheets rustle as his broom was slipped in next to him.

“You won’t have much time. As soon as she sees the broom, she’ll come to stop you.” Hermione breathed. “I’ll get out of this room. Wait for a minute before doing it as it gives me time to slip out. That’s also the time it’ll take for the window to completely open. Quidditch pitch is to your right. They’re waiting for you.”

“Okay.” Harry moved his head slightly.

“Good luck, Harry.” Hermione said.

Harry’s breath rang in his ears as he waited. He slowly lowered his hand, his fingers curling around his broom’s handle.

‘Alright, she should be out.’ Harry opened his eyes and looked around.

Madam Pomfrey was busy reading a magazine in her office whose door Hermione had locked.

Harry slowly moved out of his sheets, carefully keeping the broom under it.

Madam Pomfrey looked up sharply, raising an eyebrow at him.

Harry smiled at her, raising his pinky finger. She nodded before looking back into a magazine and Harry let out a sigh of relief.

‘Alright. Three, two, one.’ Harry pulled his broom out of the bedsheets and swung a leg over it.

“MR. POTTER!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice rang as she hurtled toward the door, pulling at the doorknob.

Harry kicked off the floor, rising in the air. Leaning forward, he flew toward the open windows just as the door clicked and crashed open.

“POTTER—”

Harry felt his heart pound in his ears and he flattened himself against the broom, his knuckles whitening against the polished handle. The window panes rattled as he flew through the window.

Harry grinned as the wind whistled in his ears. With a tug, the broom turned to his right and he flew faster. In the distance, he could see the Quidditch pitch, the stadium already looking full.

The last stragglers who were making their way toward the stadium for the match looked up as Harry flew above them.

Angelina and the twins waved at him from the side entrance of the locker room, already dressed in their Quidditch robes as Harry soared toward them.

“Harry, how’re you feeling?” Angelina rushed forward as soon as Harry’s bare feet touched the grass.

“Ready to win,” Harry muttered, pushing the doors of the locker room open where the rest of the team was sitting along with Joseph Chambers, a fourth-year Gryffindor wearing the number eight. “Where are my clothes?”

“Wait.” Angelina drew her wand pulling him to stand next to a pile of clothes. “Stand here. I am going to change you out of these clothes with a spell. No time.”

“If I end up naked, I’ll kill you.” Harry warned and Angelina waved her wand.

His blue hospital clothes appeared folded neatly on the bench while the red Quidditch robes appeared on his body.

“Huh? Useful.” Harry muttered, checking the robes. “Alright. I need my shoes, goggles, and gloves.”

“Potter, are you sure you are ready to play?” Oliver Wood asked. “You just broke out of the hospital wing to join us.”

“I am.” Harry pulled on his socks. “What’s the game plan? Any changes?”

“No.” Wood shook his head. “You stay out of the way till you see the snitch. Don’t pull anything crazy, alright? And you have to wait for us to be up by thirty points before you catch the snitch.”

“I didn’t know we had to be up by thirty points.” Harry frowned as he tugged a glove onto his hand.

“If we want the house cup we need a hundred and seventy points,” Katie said. “And ten more in case Madam Pomfrey decides to dock points off from you for escaping the hospital wing on a broom, no less.”

“Then we better be up by fifty.” Harry breathed. “Because Ron and Hermione are going to keep her busy. Also, we cannot let her get to the pitch until the match starts.”

“Of course.” Wood nodded. “Joey?”

“I’m on it.” The fourth-year boy, Joseph nodded. “She won’t get to the pitch. For Gryffindor!”

“FOR GRYFFINDOR!” The Weasley twins roared, pumping their beater bats in the air.

“Okay, men and women. This is it.” Wood declared as Harry stood up. “The big one. The one we’ve all been waiting for. The finals of the—”

The sound of the canon followed by people’s cheer interrupted Wood’s speed.

“Alright, let’s win this!” He roared. “In formation!”

They walked out of the locker rooms together, Wood walking a single step ahead of them.

On the other side of the Green field, Harry could see the Ravenclaws coming out with their captain, Bob Ravenscroft. Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Mount your brooms, please." Hooch said, once they were all gathered around her.

Harry mounted his Nimbus Two Thousand just as the bludgers and the snitch were released. The snitch immediately darted out of sight as they rose in the air, the bludgers circling the teams

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Madame Pomfrey hurrying toward the Quidditch pitch.

‘Oh no.’ Harry felt a weight drop in his stomach. ‘Hurry up Madam Hooch.’

Madam Hooch was looking at all of them, the red quaffle shining in her hand, her yellow eyes sharp as a hawk.

“I want a fair game, all of you.” She said as Harry kept his eyes on the nearing form of Madame Pomfrey. “May the best team win.”

Harry turned to her, his heart pounding in his chest.

The whistle blew and Madam Hooch tossed the quaffle in the air.

“AND THEY ARE OFF!” Jordan roared over the microphone. “THE RACE FOR THE QUIDDITCH CUP HAS BEGUN!”

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AND… DONE! Hope you all liked the story!

A huge thanks to Mughil and Anax for betaing this story!

The PJO short piece ‘The Silver Bow’ is already in the process of being written. (As per the last poll’s vote which I am closing today. This was already written so I am publishing it today.)

The LoSP chapter will go up on the 9th/10th of Jan, depending on where you are.

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Stay Happy! Stay Safe! Keep Smiling! Keep Reading!

HPfanfictioner66