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Fic: Dr. House to the Magical Ward
This is the story I wrote for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wontastic in return for an invite code. Hope you enjoy it!
Dr. House to the Magical Ward
House MD/Harry Potter crossover
Pairings: House/Wilson, Ron/Harry
Warnings: Just some kissing I’m afraid.
Summary: The magical world turns out quite different than imagined and House blames the magic.
Notes: It’s been awhile since I’ve watched House and I’ve yet to watch all of season 5. I do absolutely adore the series, but I’m not sure how good I am at writing it.
-:-
Dr. House to the Magical Ward.
‘Dr. House?’ The doctor in question was in a bad mood. Not worse than usual, mind, just the general sort of mood he preferred.
‘What?’ There was a very tall, red haired, freckled man standing in his doorway. He looked nervous, but determined; an annoying combination.
‘My name is Ron Weasley and I need your help.’ The man came inside the office. A British accent, House noted. On principal, he didn’t like British people.
‘You don’t look like you’re dying,’ House commented, looking the man up and down. Muscular certainly, but not at all bulky. The clothes were odd, but House figured it was just a British oddness.
‘No, but I know someone who is.’ For some reason the look in the man’s eyes caused House to pause. He leaned back in his chair and studied the man’s face. It seemed older than it should. There were scars along the sides of his face, almost invisible. They looked like they’d been made by an octopus wrapped around the man’s head. In fact that was the only thing House could imagine because he had never seen scars quite like that.
‘Where did you get those scars?’ he asked. The man’s eyes widened in surprise.
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
House tilted his head to the side. ‘Why won’t you answer?’
‘Look, my friend is dying and I need you to come with me to Scotland.’
‘Sorry, I don’t have the legs for skirts.’ He got up, grabbing his cane and noting how the man frowned at it heavily. ‘Thanks for stopping by.’ House didn’t look back as he exited his office, making his way down the corridor towards Wilson’s.
Of course, being crippled made getting away from annoying people much harder.
‘Please, hear me out,’ Weasley continued, walking beside him with long strides. Christ, the man was tall.
‘I treat people in this hospital,’ House said, going for less sarcasm in an attempt to convince the man. ‘Besides, I get air-sick.’
‘We won’t be travelling that way,’ Weasley muttered in such a way that made House glance at him. They reached Wilson’s office.
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ House said, going inside without knocking and shutting the door quickly behind him.
‘What is it now?’
‘A man was stalking me,’ House said. ‘He wanted me to wear a skirt.’ Wilson raised his eyebrows. When he didn’t say anything House continued suspiciously. ‘You like that idea, don’t you?’ Wilson rolled his eyes and went back to whatever he was reading, but the sudden blush made House’s eyebrows rise.
He’d been making halfway flirtatious comments for weeks now and it always produced the same little blush in the dear doctor. House was trying to analyze it to determine if it was just embarrassment over sexual innuendo in general or something more… specific.
During the day he told himself it was scientific curiosity. A study of Wilson (one he had technically been conducting for years), but in bed at night with his hand on his cock his fantasies told him otherwise. Come morning his rationality would return and he would deny he even had fantasies.
House was about to check if the man had gone when a very loud crack was heard and suddenly the man in question was standing in the middle of Wilson’s office.
Wilson jumped up in shock, while House just stared. Weasley looked around, spotting House and giving him a glare as if it was his fault the man had just defied the laws of physics.
‘I didn’t want to do this. In fact this is highly illegal, but I need your help.’
‘What did you- How did you?’ Wilson stuttered.
‘Who’s he?’ Weasley asked, nodding in Wilson’s direction.
‘Dr. Wilson. An Oncologist.’
‘A what?’
‘A cancer specialist.’
‘That tells me squat,’ Weasley sighed. ‘I don’t know a thing about your type of medicine.’
‘What type of medicine do you know anything about?’ House asked, his eyes calculating. Weasley eyes met his; they were no longer nervous, but the determination had increased tenfold. Damn, House hated leaving the country.
‘Magical.’
XXX
Gregory House prided himself on being, well, Gregory House, meaning he was the smartest person he knew and therefore rather quick on the uptake. The concept of magic, therefore, was something he had to accept once the evidence was irrefutable.
Wilson, however, had a bit more trouble believing, but he conceded eventually. If he was surprised when House argued with Weasley about “obliteration” and insisted all three of them go, he showed it only by keeping his eyes as wide as they had been since Weasley first popped into his office.
House gasped as they were dropped unceremoniously on a slightly wet lawn. His leg buckled underneath him immediately, but someone caught him. He looked up and saw it was Wilson, holding him tightly.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, concerned. House freed himself quickly, ignoring the searing pain in his leg as well as the odd tightness in his chest that didn’t seem entirely physical. He looked around them, tilting his head further and further back as he lifted his gaze up the walls of the castle.
‘Welcome to Hogwarts,’ Weasley said. The castle stood tall and foreboding under dark, grey skies. ‘Usually muggles can’t see it, but the spells I cast on you should let you...’ He glanced at House’s cane, frowning again. ‘Ready to go?’
Instead of answering, House stepped forward and made his way towards the wide stairs leading up to the enormous double doors. They opened, magically House could only assume.
‘It’s on the first floor,’ Weasley informed them, taking the lead. House glanced around, noting it appeared not unlike any other castle you’d expect to find on these islands, only much, much larger.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Wilson muttered. ‘This is insane.’ He had said that several times already. He gasped, stumbling slightly before righting himself and pointing to the wall. ‘Look!’ House followed the finger and found the walls around the staircase were covered with portraits. Moving portraits. Magical portraits. House decided not to look at them and focused instead on not tripping. ‘The pictures are moving, House.’
‘So do the pictures on your TV,’ House replied. Wilson gave an incredulous laugh.
‘That’s slightly different.’
‘The power behind it, maybe, but the effects are clearly similar.’ Wilson just sighed and they continued upwards slowly and in silence.
By the time they reached the top House was breathing heavily. Wilson hovered close, clearly wanting to help, but knowing it would not be welcomed. Weasley waited by another set of double doors. He pushed one of them opened slightly and gestured for the pair to enter. House took a deep breath to collect himself and walked inside.
It was obviously a hospital, only it looked like it could have been from a period film. The woman who bustled towards them looked like some sort of nurse, possibly from the time of Florence Nightingale.
‘Mr. Weasley,’ she began, her mouth pinched. ‘I can’t believe you would do this.’
‘Hermione agreed it was his only chance,’ Weasley countered.
‘Miss Granger is in the critical ward at St. Mungo’s and not in a fit state to give medical advice!’ House looked around and noticed all the beds were empty except one at the far end. He couldn’t see who was in it.
‘She was well enough to find this Dr. House,’ Weasley argued.
‘And who else have you brought?’ The woman turned her piercing gaze towards Wilson, who awkwardly extending his hand.
‘Dr. Wilson, Madam, I’m an oncologist.’ She looked at his face, his hand, and then his face again. Finally, she took his hand briefly.
‘Poppy Pomfrey, mediwitch,’ she said tightly. ‘I’m sorry Mr. Weasley dragged you all this way, but there is really nothing you can do to help.’ She shot an angry glance at Weasley. ‘All we can do is make him comfortable, not give him false hope.’
‘Harry would never give up until all options were exhausted,’ he declared. ‘If it were me lying there-‘
‘But it is not you, Mr. Weasley,’ Pomfrey cut him off, sounding more tired than angry. ‘Did you ever think that maybe Mr. Potter doesn’t want to keep fighting? He’s been doing it all his life.’ House could tell by her glossy eyes that she cared about this Harry Potter, yet still she was willing to let him die. That told House volumes about both of them.
‘Harry would never give up!’ Weasley insisted. ‘Besides, it could be a muggle disease with an easy cure.’
‘You know I do not believe this is a muggle disease,’ Pomfrey said.
‘His magic is gone-‘
‘But he is still a wizard, Mr. Weasley. He still has a magical core, even though it is practically empty. Even if he somehow managed to contract a muggle disease while being in a magical environment, I very much doubt any of their medicines will work on him.’
‘Let them try.’ Weasley’s voice had gone soft and House could see how it melted the old woman’s resolve. She turned her gaze to House.
‘Follow me then,’ she said and led the way over to the bed at the end of the long room. As they approached House saw it was a man who looked younger than Weasley and seemed much smaller. His face was drawn and pale and he did look like he was dying. On his forehead was a scar with a peculiar shape. House guessed he was no more than eighteen at the most. He lay with his thin arms on top of the covers, sound asleep. The bedside table bore a pair of glasses and a wand similar to the one Weasley had showed them.
The young man was clearly having trouble breathing and most likely had a fever. Weasley went round to Potter’s side and took the smaller hand in his own while House pushed past Pomfrey and came to stand on the other side of the bed, watching the pair.
‘Harry?’ Weasley whispered carefully. What was the point of trying to wake a person by being quiet? The young man’s eyes opened, however, and House saw they were bright green.
‘Ron,’ the young man breathed, sounding hoarse, and immediately started coughing. Weasley’s face looked stricken as he was powerless to stop it. Luckily, Potter quieted down quickly. ‘I was afraid you’d left me,’ he said softly.
‘Never,’ Weasley affirmed, holding Potter’s hand in both of his and staring with shining eyes, still as determined as ever. And no wonder he was: he was clearly in love with this man.
House watched Potter’s face as he smiled in relief. The feelings were returned without a doubt. For some reason House glanced at Wilson to see if he had noticed, but Potter drew his attention back before he could read Wilson’s expression.
‘Good. I have a few things I need to tell you before-‘
‘Don’t talk like that,’ Weasley interrupted. ‘I’ve brought a doctor.’ Potter turned his head to House, frowning heavily and furrowing his eyebrows.
‘I don’t want more doctors, Ron. I’m tired.’
‘He’s a muggle doctor. He can help you.’ Potter looked back and forth between them, confusion in his eyes.
‘You think Voldemort turned me into a muggle?’
‘Just let him try,’ Weasley begged. Potter looked indecisive for a moment and then seemed to sag with defeat. He nodded mutely and Weasley let go of his hand, gesturing for House to begin.
‘My name is Dr. House,’ he said, looking the young man in the eye. ‘This is my colleague Dr. Wilson.’ Potter nodded to them both in greeting. ‘Can you tell me your symptoms?’
‘Uh… difficulty breathing,’ Potter began slowly. ‘My chest hurts. My whole body aches really. I have a fever, I think… I’m just really tired.’
House turned to Wilson. ‘You brought your stethoscope?’ Wilson nodded and opened the briefcase he had brought with him, handing the instrument over silently. House could tell they both knew exactly what was wrong with the boy.
‘That’s to listen with, isn’t it?’ Potter asked. Weasley looked at the stethoscope suspiciously.
‘Yes, can you pull down the covers slightly?’ Potter obeyed, exposing a pale chest with visible ribs. House leaned down, cursing the low beds, and listened carefully.
He pulled back only a moment later. ‘It’s pneumonia,’ he pronounced.
‘What’s that?’ Weasley asked.
‘Ridiculous,’ Pomfrey proclaimed. ‘I told you this was a waste of time.’
‘That’s in the lungs, isn’t it?’ Potter asked.
‘I can’t be completely sure without an X-ray, but I suspect you don’t have that here.’
‘He is a wizard, he does not get pneumonia,’ Pomfrey insisted.
‘But what is it?’ Weasley asked again, frustrated. House looked back and forth between them, finally decided Pomfrey was the more interesting conversation.
‘Why can’t he have pneumonia?’
‘Wizards don’t get those kinds of diseases,’ she explained. ‘Their magic and the magics that surround us protect us.’
‘But you said his magic was gone?’
‘Most of it, yes, but we are certain there is still some basic magic left in his core, like with squibs.’
Ignoring the last bit, House pressed forward, ‘But you can’t be sure? Can you test for magic?’
‘Only very strong wizards can feel magic that weak,’ Pomfrey explained. The room went quiet for a moment. ‘There aren’t any available.’
‘It’s pneumonia,’ House repeated. ‘That’s what you dragged me all the way here for, a case of pneumonia. You know, if I ever pretended magic was real as a child, I’m pretty sure it was more exciting than this.’
‘Can you cure him?’ Weasley asked.
‘He needs to go to a hospital for testing and they can get him the right treatment.’
‘But he’ll live?’
‘There’s a pretty good chance, yes, if you get him into the twenty-first century while we’re still in this century.’
‘House,’ Wilson admonished quietly, but no one paid attention.
‘I already gave him an cleansing potion that would have eliminated anything foreign in his body,’ Pomfrey announced. ‘It didn’t work. This is obviously a result of whatever You-Know-’ she sighed, ‘whatever Voldemort cast before he died.’
‘Please,’ Potter said and all eyes turned to him. He looked to Ron. ‘Do you think I should go?’
‘Yes,’ Weasley said without hesitation. Despite looking like a bit dim, he was apparently the smartest of the three.
‘Then let’s go,’ Potter said with a small, tired smile. Pomfrey huffed and stalked away. No one seemed to notice. Weasley and Potter were still staring at each other. ‘I need you to know,’ Potter said quickly, the already existent blush from the fever deepening. ‘Just in case-‘
‘Don’t-‘
‘Please,’ Potter continued. He closed his eyes. ‘Just in case, even if there’s a chance you’ll hate me… I love you, but not like a best friend is suppose to. I’d be dead if not for you so many times, I would have given up. You need to know that. I love you.’ Finally, he opened his eyes, they were fearful. Weasley breathed out heavily.
‘Merlin, Harry.’ He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the scar on Potter’s forehead. ‘Do you have any idea how much I love you? Of course not because I’m such a coward. I should have said it ages ago. We could have died and I would never have said it. I’ll say it now though and I’ll never stop, you hear? So you better get better.’ He finally pulled away and turned to the doctors, looking slightly red around the collar now.
Wilson coughed and House’s eyes snapped to him. What was that about?
‘Erm, let’s get him moved,’ Weasley said.
XXX
While the magical folk arranged for “muggle” papers and identifications House and Wilson were stuck waiting. They moved outside to get some fresh air. Without light pollution from any city they could see many more stars, not that House was bothering to look up.
His mind was full of the image of the two young men. They had clearly been through some sort of ordeal. He should find their declarations of love tedious. Unable to stop himself, he imagined himself in the boy’s place. Would he bother making any last minute declarations if he lay on his deathbed today? Of course not! Who would he make them to?
‘This has been some crazy day,’ Wilson commented. He stood close, looking upwards.
‘This had been one annoying day,’ House countered, studying what appeared to be a half burnt down hut across the lawn. He wanted to move away, but his body wouldn’t let him.
‘He did it to save the one he loves,’ Wilson said softly. ‘It’s understandable.’ Wilson mulled this comment over for a moment, but he still immediately answered:
‘Dragging an oncologist and a diagnostic expert across the Atlantic for a case of pneumonia is a bit of an overkill in my opinion.’
‘People do crazy thing for love.’ House looked at Wilson. The man’s profile was hard to read, but it was clear the man was lost in some philosophical or romantic ruminations.
‘People are stupid,’ he said. Wilson snorted.
‘Oh, of course the great Gregory House would never do anything for another person no matter how much he cared about them.’
‘And what have you done in the name of love that can be defined as crazy?’ House studied Wilson’s profile. It was difficult to discern in the pale light from the moon and castle windows. In truth he would rather not hear the man’s answer.
‘How about going along on a crazy adventure with a stranger just because the person you’re in love with wants to see if magic is real.’ Silence reigned heavily, like thick fog. Wilson sighed and let his head hang. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe it’s the magic doing things to me.’
Strange, that on a day like this the part about magic being real made the most sense.
‘Are you retracting your statement?’ House enquired. Wilson looked up and their gazes met. Both men were trying to keep emotion out of their faces, but only one managed it with any success.
‘No point in denying it anymore, is there? You can always tell when I’m lying,’ Wilson breathed out. He turned away and began walking, but slow enough for House to easily catch up with him. The question was, would he?
In the future he would always blame the magic.
Wilson was indeed stopped in his tracks by a hand gripping his arm tight. He turned around slowly, meeting House’s gaze almost defiantly, but it was fake courage.
‘You are crazy,’ House stated. “If you’ve managed to fall in love with me” was left unspoken, “because it can’t be true. But I don’t care if it is as long as I can do this-“ He gripped Wilson’s white coat, dropping his cane in the process. Their lips crushed together, though Wilson seemed too shocked to respond at first.
Then his arms came around the other man, holding on for life as he responded with a passion House hadn’t expected. He lost control of the kiss, suddenly needing Wilson to hold him up without the cane.
He pulled back and House was the breathless one. It was the magic.
‘I think we’re both crazy,’ Wilson concluded. ‘Please don’t let this be some sort of experiment.’
‘You really think I’d be that cliché?’ House cut off any response with another kiss, trying to keep up with his partner this time. He drown in the kiss, just as they were drenched in a sudden downpour, but neither seemed to notice.
‘Oy! You crazy bastards, get inside will ya!’ They didn’t hear Weasley yelling either.
It was all the magic.
wontastic in return for an invite code. Hope you enjoy it! Dr. House to the Magical Ward
House MD/Harry Potter crossover
Pairings: House/Wilson, Ron/Harry
Warnings: Just some kissing I’m afraid.
Summary: The magical world turns out quite different than imagined and House blames the magic.
Notes: It’s been awhile since I’ve watched House and I’ve yet to watch all of season 5. I do absolutely adore the series, but I’m not sure how good I am at writing it.
-:-
Dr. House to the Magical Ward.
‘Dr. House?’ The doctor in question was in a bad mood. Not worse than usual, mind, just the general sort of mood he preferred.
‘What?’ There was a very tall, red haired, freckled man standing in his doorway. He looked nervous, but determined; an annoying combination.
‘My name is Ron Weasley and I need your help.’ The man came inside the office. A British accent, House noted. On principal, he didn’t like British people.
‘You don’t look like you’re dying,’ House commented, looking the man up and down. Muscular certainly, but not at all bulky. The clothes were odd, but House figured it was just a British oddness.
‘No, but I know someone who is.’ For some reason the look in the man’s eyes caused House to pause. He leaned back in his chair and studied the man’s face. It seemed older than it should. There were scars along the sides of his face, almost invisible. They looked like they’d been made by an octopus wrapped around the man’s head. In fact that was the only thing House could imagine because he had never seen scars quite like that.
‘Where did you get those scars?’ he asked. The man’s eyes widened in surprise.
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
House tilted his head to the side. ‘Why won’t you answer?’
‘Look, my friend is dying and I need you to come with me to Scotland.’
‘Sorry, I don’t have the legs for skirts.’ He got up, grabbing his cane and noting how the man frowned at it heavily. ‘Thanks for stopping by.’ House didn’t look back as he exited his office, making his way down the corridor towards Wilson’s.
Of course, being crippled made getting away from annoying people much harder.
‘Please, hear me out,’ Weasley continued, walking beside him with long strides. Christ, the man was tall.
‘I treat people in this hospital,’ House said, going for less sarcasm in an attempt to convince the man. ‘Besides, I get air-sick.’
‘We won’t be travelling that way,’ Weasley muttered in such a way that made House glance at him. They reached Wilson’s office.
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ House said, going inside without knocking and shutting the door quickly behind him.
‘What is it now?’
‘A man was stalking me,’ House said. ‘He wanted me to wear a skirt.’ Wilson raised his eyebrows. When he didn’t say anything House continued suspiciously. ‘You like that idea, don’t you?’ Wilson rolled his eyes and went back to whatever he was reading, but the sudden blush made House’s eyebrows rise.
He’d been making halfway flirtatious comments for weeks now and it always produced the same little blush in the dear doctor. House was trying to analyze it to determine if it was just embarrassment over sexual innuendo in general or something more… specific.
During the day he told himself it was scientific curiosity. A study of Wilson (one he had technically been conducting for years), but in bed at night with his hand on his cock his fantasies told him otherwise. Come morning his rationality would return and he would deny he even had fantasies.
House was about to check if the man had gone when a very loud crack was heard and suddenly the man in question was standing in the middle of Wilson’s office.
Wilson jumped up in shock, while House just stared. Weasley looked around, spotting House and giving him a glare as if it was his fault the man had just defied the laws of physics.
‘I didn’t want to do this. In fact this is highly illegal, but I need your help.’
‘What did you- How did you?’ Wilson stuttered.
‘Who’s he?’ Weasley asked, nodding in Wilson’s direction.
‘Dr. Wilson. An Oncologist.’
‘A what?’
‘A cancer specialist.’
‘That tells me squat,’ Weasley sighed. ‘I don’t know a thing about your type of medicine.’
‘What type of medicine do you know anything about?’ House asked, his eyes calculating. Weasley eyes met his; they were no longer nervous, but the determination had increased tenfold. Damn, House hated leaving the country.
‘Magical.’
XXX
Gregory House prided himself on being, well, Gregory House, meaning he was the smartest person he knew and therefore rather quick on the uptake. The concept of magic, therefore, was something he had to accept once the evidence was irrefutable.
Wilson, however, had a bit more trouble believing, but he conceded eventually. If he was surprised when House argued with Weasley about “obliteration” and insisted all three of them go, he showed it only by keeping his eyes as wide as they had been since Weasley first popped into his office.
House gasped as they were dropped unceremoniously on a slightly wet lawn. His leg buckled underneath him immediately, but someone caught him. He looked up and saw it was Wilson, holding him tightly.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, concerned. House freed himself quickly, ignoring the searing pain in his leg as well as the odd tightness in his chest that didn’t seem entirely physical. He looked around them, tilting his head further and further back as he lifted his gaze up the walls of the castle.
‘Welcome to Hogwarts,’ Weasley said. The castle stood tall and foreboding under dark, grey skies. ‘Usually muggles can’t see it, but the spells I cast on you should let you...’ He glanced at House’s cane, frowning again. ‘Ready to go?’
Instead of answering, House stepped forward and made his way towards the wide stairs leading up to the enormous double doors. They opened, magically House could only assume.
‘It’s on the first floor,’ Weasley informed them, taking the lead. House glanced around, noting it appeared not unlike any other castle you’d expect to find on these islands, only much, much larger.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Wilson muttered. ‘This is insane.’ He had said that several times already. He gasped, stumbling slightly before righting himself and pointing to the wall. ‘Look!’ House followed the finger and found the walls around the staircase were covered with portraits. Moving portraits. Magical portraits. House decided not to look at them and focused instead on not tripping. ‘The pictures are moving, House.’
‘So do the pictures on your TV,’ House replied. Wilson gave an incredulous laugh.
‘That’s slightly different.’
‘The power behind it, maybe, but the effects are clearly similar.’ Wilson just sighed and they continued upwards slowly and in silence.
By the time they reached the top House was breathing heavily. Wilson hovered close, clearly wanting to help, but knowing it would not be welcomed. Weasley waited by another set of double doors. He pushed one of them opened slightly and gestured for the pair to enter. House took a deep breath to collect himself and walked inside.
It was obviously a hospital, only it looked like it could have been from a period film. The woman who bustled towards them looked like some sort of nurse, possibly from the time of Florence Nightingale.
‘Mr. Weasley,’ she began, her mouth pinched. ‘I can’t believe you would do this.’
‘Hermione agreed it was his only chance,’ Weasley countered.
‘Miss Granger is in the critical ward at St. Mungo’s and not in a fit state to give medical advice!’ House looked around and noticed all the beds were empty except one at the far end. He couldn’t see who was in it.
‘She was well enough to find this Dr. House,’ Weasley argued.
‘And who else have you brought?’ The woman turned her piercing gaze towards Wilson, who awkwardly extending his hand.
‘Dr. Wilson, Madam, I’m an oncologist.’ She looked at his face, his hand, and then his face again. Finally, she took his hand briefly.
‘Poppy Pomfrey, mediwitch,’ she said tightly. ‘I’m sorry Mr. Weasley dragged you all this way, but there is really nothing you can do to help.’ She shot an angry glance at Weasley. ‘All we can do is make him comfortable, not give him false hope.’
‘Harry would never give up until all options were exhausted,’ he declared. ‘If it were me lying there-‘
‘But it is not you, Mr. Weasley,’ Pomfrey cut him off, sounding more tired than angry. ‘Did you ever think that maybe Mr. Potter doesn’t want to keep fighting? He’s been doing it all his life.’ House could tell by her glossy eyes that she cared about this Harry Potter, yet still she was willing to let him die. That told House volumes about both of them.
‘Harry would never give up!’ Weasley insisted. ‘Besides, it could be a muggle disease with an easy cure.’
‘You know I do not believe this is a muggle disease,’ Pomfrey said.
‘His magic is gone-‘
‘But he is still a wizard, Mr. Weasley. He still has a magical core, even though it is practically empty. Even if he somehow managed to contract a muggle disease while being in a magical environment, I very much doubt any of their medicines will work on him.’
‘Let them try.’ Weasley’s voice had gone soft and House could see how it melted the old woman’s resolve. She turned her gaze to House.
‘Follow me then,’ she said and led the way over to the bed at the end of the long room. As they approached House saw it was a man who looked younger than Weasley and seemed much smaller. His face was drawn and pale and he did look like he was dying. On his forehead was a scar with a peculiar shape. House guessed he was no more than eighteen at the most. He lay with his thin arms on top of the covers, sound asleep. The bedside table bore a pair of glasses and a wand similar to the one Weasley had showed them.
The young man was clearly having trouble breathing and most likely had a fever. Weasley went round to Potter’s side and took the smaller hand in his own while House pushed past Pomfrey and came to stand on the other side of the bed, watching the pair.
‘Harry?’ Weasley whispered carefully. What was the point of trying to wake a person by being quiet? The young man’s eyes opened, however, and House saw they were bright green.
‘Ron,’ the young man breathed, sounding hoarse, and immediately started coughing. Weasley’s face looked stricken as he was powerless to stop it. Luckily, Potter quieted down quickly. ‘I was afraid you’d left me,’ he said softly.
‘Never,’ Weasley affirmed, holding Potter’s hand in both of his and staring with shining eyes, still as determined as ever. And no wonder he was: he was clearly in love with this man.
House watched Potter’s face as he smiled in relief. The feelings were returned without a doubt. For some reason House glanced at Wilson to see if he had noticed, but Potter drew his attention back before he could read Wilson’s expression.
‘Good. I have a few things I need to tell you before-‘
‘Don’t talk like that,’ Weasley interrupted. ‘I’ve brought a doctor.’ Potter turned his head to House, frowning heavily and furrowing his eyebrows.
‘I don’t want more doctors, Ron. I’m tired.’
‘He’s a muggle doctor. He can help you.’ Potter looked back and forth between them, confusion in his eyes.
‘You think Voldemort turned me into a muggle?’
‘Just let him try,’ Weasley begged. Potter looked indecisive for a moment and then seemed to sag with defeat. He nodded mutely and Weasley let go of his hand, gesturing for House to begin.
‘My name is Dr. House,’ he said, looking the young man in the eye. ‘This is my colleague Dr. Wilson.’ Potter nodded to them both in greeting. ‘Can you tell me your symptoms?’
‘Uh… difficulty breathing,’ Potter began slowly. ‘My chest hurts. My whole body aches really. I have a fever, I think… I’m just really tired.’
House turned to Wilson. ‘You brought your stethoscope?’ Wilson nodded and opened the briefcase he had brought with him, handing the instrument over silently. House could tell they both knew exactly what was wrong with the boy.
‘That’s to listen with, isn’t it?’ Potter asked. Weasley looked at the stethoscope suspiciously.
‘Yes, can you pull down the covers slightly?’ Potter obeyed, exposing a pale chest with visible ribs. House leaned down, cursing the low beds, and listened carefully.
He pulled back only a moment later. ‘It’s pneumonia,’ he pronounced.
‘What’s that?’ Weasley asked.
‘Ridiculous,’ Pomfrey proclaimed. ‘I told you this was a waste of time.’
‘That’s in the lungs, isn’t it?’ Potter asked.
‘I can’t be completely sure without an X-ray, but I suspect you don’t have that here.’
‘He is a wizard, he does not get pneumonia,’ Pomfrey insisted.
‘But what is it?’ Weasley asked again, frustrated. House looked back and forth between them, finally decided Pomfrey was the more interesting conversation.
‘Why can’t he have pneumonia?’
‘Wizards don’t get those kinds of diseases,’ she explained. ‘Their magic and the magics that surround us protect us.’
‘But you said his magic was gone?’
‘Most of it, yes, but we are certain there is still some basic magic left in his core, like with squibs.’
Ignoring the last bit, House pressed forward, ‘But you can’t be sure? Can you test for magic?’
‘Only very strong wizards can feel magic that weak,’ Pomfrey explained. The room went quiet for a moment. ‘There aren’t any available.’
‘It’s pneumonia,’ House repeated. ‘That’s what you dragged me all the way here for, a case of pneumonia. You know, if I ever pretended magic was real as a child, I’m pretty sure it was more exciting than this.’
‘Can you cure him?’ Weasley asked.
‘He needs to go to a hospital for testing and they can get him the right treatment.’
‘But he’ll live?’
‘There’s a pretty good chance, yes, if you get him into the twenty-first century while we’re still in this century.’
‘House,’ Wilson admonished quietly, but no one paid attention.
‘I already gave him an cleansing potion that would have eliminated anything foreign in his body,’ Pomfrey announced. ‘It didn’t work. This is obviously a result of whatever You-Know-’ she sighed, ‘whatever Voldemort cast before he died.’
‘Please,’ Potter said and all eyes turned to him. He looked to Ron. ‘Do you think I should go?’
‘Yes,’ Weasley said without hesitation. Despite looking like a bit dim, he was apparently the smartest of the three.
‘Then let’s go,’ Potter said with a small, tired smile. Pomfrey huffed and stalked away. No one seemed to notice. Weasley and Potter were still staring at each other. ‘I need you to know,’ Potter said quickly, the already existent blush from the fever deepening. ‘Just in case-‘
‘Don’t-‘
‘Please,’ Potter continued. He closed his eyes. ‘Just in case, even if there’s a chance you’ll hate me… I love you, but not like a best friend is suppose to. I’d be dead if not for you so many times, I would have given up. You need to know that. I love you.’ Finally, he opened his eyes, they were fearful. Weasley breathed out heavily.
‘Merlin, Harry.’ He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the scar on Potter’s forehead. ‘Do you have any idea how much I love you? Of course not because I’m such a coward. I should have said it ages ago. We could have died and I would never have said it. I’ll say it now though and I’ll never stop, you hear? So you better get better.’ He finally pulled away and turned to the doctors, looking slightly red around the collar now.
Wilson coughed and House’s eyes snapped to him. What was that about?
‘Erm, let’s get him moved,’ Weasley said.
XXX
While the magical folk arranged for “muggle” papers and identifications House and Wilson were stuck waiting. They moved outside to get some fresh air. Without light pollution from any city they could see many more stars, not that House was bothering to look up.
His mind was full of the image of the two young men. They had clearly been through some sort of ordeal. He should find their declarations of love tedious. Unable to stop himself, he imagined himself in the boy’s place. Would he bother making any last minute declarations if he lay on his deathbed today? Of course not! Who would he make them to?
‘This has been some crazy day,’ Wilson commented. He stood close, looking upwards.
‘This had been one annoying day,’ House countered, studying what appeared to be a half burnt down hut across the lawn. He wanted to move away, but his body wouldn’t let him.
‘He did it to save the one he loves,’ Wilson said softly. ‘It’s understandable.’ Wilson mulled this comment over for a moment, but he still immediately answered:
‘Dragging an oncologist and a diagnostic expert across the Atlantic for a case of pneumonia is a bit of an overkill in my opinion.’
‘People do crazy thing for love.’ House looked at Wilson. The man’s profile was hard to read, but it was clear the man was lost in some philosophical or romantic ruminations.
‘People are stupid,’ he said. Wilson snorted.
‘Oh, of course the great Gregory House would never do anything for another person no matter how much he cared about them.’
‘And what have you done in the name of love that can be defined as crazy?’ House studied Wilson’s profile. It was difficult to discern in the pale light from the moon and castle windows. In truth he would rather not hear the man’s answer.
‘How about going along on a crazy adventure with a stranger just because the person you’re in love with wants to see if magic is real.’ Silence reigned heavily, like thick fog. Wilson sighed and let his head hang. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe it’s the magic doing things to me.’
Strange, that on a day like this the part about magic being real made the most sense.
‘Are you retracting your statement?’ House enquired. Wilson looked up and their gazes met. Both men were trying to keep emotion out of their faces, but only one managed it with any success.
‘No point in denying it anymore, is there? You can always tell when I’m lying,’ Wilson breathed out. He turned away and began walking, but slow enough for House to easily catch up with him. The question was, would he?
In the future he would always blame the magic.
Wilson was indeed stopped in his tracks by a hand gripping his arm tight. He turned around slowly, meeting House’s gaze almost defiantly, but it was fake courage.
‘You are crazy,’ House stated. “If you’ve managed to fall in love with me” was left unspoken, “because it can’t be true. But I don’t care if it is as long as I can do this-“ He gripped Wilson’s white coat, dropping his cane in the process. Their lips crushed together, though Wilson seemed too shocked to respond at first.
Then his arms came around the other man, holding on for life as he responded with a passion House hadn’t expected. He lost control of the kiss, suddenly needing Wilson to hold him up without the cane.
He pulled back and House was the breathless one. It was the magic.
‘I think we’re both crazy,’ Wilson concluded. ‘Please don’t let this be some sort of experiment.’
‘You really think I’d be that cliché?’ House cut off any response with another kiss, trying to keep up with his partner this time. He drown in the kiss, just as they were drenched in a sudden downpour, but neither seemed to notice.
‘Oy! You crazy bastards, get inside will ya!’ They didn’t hear Weasley yelling either.
It was all the magic.
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I really need to find more crossover fics with these two fandoms. I did read one that was Snarry then House/Wilson... There must be more out there.
Thank you so much for sharing this wonderful story.
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Thanks again!! <3
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