Chapter 6 - the latest in fashion

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Couldn't sleep so here you go, published at 2 am :D
Groggily, Harry opened his eyes. A bright sun shone at him and he placed his hand in front of his face to block the sharp light from blinding him.

His head was throbbing and then he remembered what had happened; he had single-handedly defeated a group of death eaters and survived it. He searched for his glasses on the bedside table and when he found them and placed them on the bridge of his nose, he remembered the muggles. What had happened to the muggles?

He shot up and frantically looked around for someone to aid him with an answer to his question. He turned his head to the left and right, but no person was there. Well, except for the many sleeping patients that he shared the room with.

Harry looked down at his clothes and found that he was dressed in a striped hospital gown with his arm wrapped in fresh bandages. Quickly, he pulled off the duvet covering him and he placed his naked feet on the cold floor.

He rose from the bed and quietly yet quickly walked out of the hospital room. Once he had closed the door behind him, he started sprinting down the corridors. Something was familiar with this place he noted as he ran. Then he realised that he had inadvertently been on the fourth floor in his fifth year when he, Hermione, Ron and Ginny had visited Gilderoy Lockhart by mistake.

At last, he reached the stairs and ran down at an alarming pace. Fortunately, he had not bumped into anyone on his way downstairs. He had reached the reception when he saw the mass of witches and wizards waiting on wooden chairs. Thinking fast, he decided to cover his face with his right arm (as his left was a little sore) and simply run for it.

He ran through the reception, but he had not been so lucky this time as a healer started chasing him. However, Harry was faster and when he had run through the door to the muggle world, he immediately apparated to the ministry of magic. The only thing he had heard the healer say before his departure was, "You can't just run out of the hospital like this!"

When he arrived at the Ministry of Magic, he ran full-speed towards the lifts. Wherever he ran, people turned their heads around to look at the man running in the hospital gown. As Harry's head hurt more and more, he came closer and closer to the lifts and when he finally did reach the lifts, his head hurt so bad, he almost thought he would faint.

In a daze, he pushed the button for the lifts to arrive at his current place and soon, a lift arrived and he stepped inside it.

The lift was not empty, there were three other men in there; one from his own department and two from the department of magical artefacts. They looked at him with raised eyebrows and soon, the man he recognised from his department asked, "Mr Potter, why are you here in a hospital gown?"

Grasping his sides and panting, he thought of a quick comeback, "Haven't you heard? It's the latest in fashion."

The man turned his head slightly, furrowed his brows in confusion and said, "Really?"

"Yeah. It's trendy." Harry said and even though he was in a very serious situation, he couldn't help but laugh for himself at his colleague's gullibility.

The man looked down at his clothes and said quietly, "I knew cloaks weren't trendy anymore." He then slapped his forehead repeatedly while the other men seemed untroubled and paid no attention to the other men in the lift.

At last, he arrived at his desired floor. He ran as soon as the lift opened, hurrying past the many curious ministry employees that he had not the time to pay attention to.

Just before he had reached the Auror department, he felt a great, strong arm pull him away from his path.

Quickly, he glanced at the man who had pulled him away from his mission. To his surprise, Mr Watset was standing before him. Harry stopped fighting against him and blinked heavily.

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