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The room was beautiful, the flowers fresh, perfumed. There was a view of the mountains and outside the garden was perfection. It was different than all the other hospitals he'd been to. Harry eased himself into the soft chair and Tom sat at his side, quietly holding his hand.
Harry stared at the three-tiered rectangular serving platter filled with cupcakes with colourful frostings. He asked,
"Did they put that there to offend the patients? I'm pretty sure that everyone who comes here can't eat those."
When Voldemort didn't reply, he turned to look at him and saw an expression of utmost worry on his face. Harry snapped his fingers and he blinked before focusing on him. It was a little odd to see him with brown eyes rather than crimson, but he understood that it was necessary. The muggles doctors would seriously freak out if they saw Voldemort's crimson eyes,
"Were you saying something?"
Harry shook his head and closed his eyes,
"You really need to stop worrying."
Voldemort squeezed his hand,
"How do you expect me to stop worrying when my entire world seems like it is on the brink of destruction?"
Harry opened his eyes and sighed,
"You're being over dramatic."
Voldemort was about to speak again when the sound of the door opening made them both look towards it. A tall, aged man stepped in, dressed in a pair of khakis and a black button up. He was holding a and greeted Voldemort,
"Mr. Riddle. So, you've decided to consult with me after all."
Harry saw Voldemort smile but it was extremely fake. The doctor turned to him and spoke,
"And you must be Mr. Potter."
He extended his hand and Harry shook it with a nod,
"Yes, the one and only."
The doctor smiled as he settled down in the seat opposite them,
"My name is Dr. Emanuel Rivera. Your spouse must have told you about me."
Harry nodded and spoke,
"Yes. He has high hopes that you can cure me."
Emanuel regarded him critically,
"What about your hopes, Mr. Potter?"
Harry leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest,
"Call me, Harry. His hopes are my hopes."
Emanuel leaned forward in his seat, but Harry didn't miss the tension in his tone. That meant bad news and he didn't want Voldemort to hear that,
"I was studying your file last night, Harry, and I believe that we should talk in private."
Harry internally sighed out in relief and spoke,
Voldemort looked at him sternly and spoke,
"You can say whatever you want with me present in the room."
Emanuel smiled and spoke,
"Mr. Riddle, there are some things that I can only discuss with Harry."
Voldemort looked angry, but he stepped out of the room nonetheless. Harry cast a quick sound barrier, straightened up in his chair and spoke,
"Don't you dare tell him anything that will disturb him any more than he already is."
Emanuel raised an eyebrow and spoke,
"You have refused to undergo chemotherapy twice now. Can I know why?"
Harry closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat,
"No, I don't want to go through chemotherapy because I know what it's going to do to me. I'll be trapped in a bed between four walls, with pain medication twenty-four seven until I die. I'd rather spend that time on my feet."
Emanuel spoke softly,
"You're not doing your spouse any favours by keeping him in the dark."
"I'm not keeping him in the dark. He knows it…He's just not ready to give up."
Emanuel looked at him sadly,
"Have you given up?"
Harry couldn't help but chuckle at that,
"I wouldn't be sitting here if I'd given up."
"Yes, your case history states that you're quite the fighter."
Harry rose to his feet and spoke,
"All I'm asking is that you don't tell him anything disturbing. Give him hope. Run as many tests and scans on me as you want. Prescribe as many pills as you can. Tell him that I'll get better. I want you to tell him that I'm already recovering."
Emanuel stared at him wide eyed before schooling his features,
"As a doctor, it is my responsibility to be honest."
Harry stepped closer to him and glared at him,
"As a doctor, it's your responsibility to give hope."
Emanuel dropped his gaze and clasped his fingers together,
"Call your spouse in."
Harry scowled at him before going to the door and opening it. Voldemort all but ran back into the room,
"Take a seat, Mr. Riddle."
Harry walked to the window and stared out at the view as Emanuel started talking,
"We were just discussing which tests Harry was willing to undergo and if he was prepared to go through a clinical trial for a new drug that is being introduced."
He sighed out in relief. Harry coughed and Voldemort was there immediately. He pulled him back to the seat, sat own and pulled him in his lap. Harry instantly wrapped his arms around him and Voldemort inquired,
"What have you decided, Harry?"
Harry pressed a kiss to Voldemort's cheeks and spoke,
"I'll try whatever they have to offer."
Voldemort smiled, and Harry saw the relief in his eyes. He smiled in return and cupped his cheek,
"Now will you please stop worrying?"
Voldemort shook his head and Harry frowned,
"I will not stop worrying about you until you have fully recovered."
Harry rested his head against Voldemort's chest and looked at Emanuel,
"How soon can you start? How long will it take?"
Emanuel looked at him and spoke,
"We can get you a room now. You will have to stay here until we run the scans on you and receive the results. As for the clinical trials, you will have to take your pills regularly and check into the hospital once every week."
Harry nodded and spoke,
"Let's get started then."
Emanuel rose to his feet,
"I'll send a nurse with the paperwork."