With dropped shoulders Alan was sitting in front of the room, his empty stare directed towards the white door in the white corridor and the mostly white hospital. The air was thick and the young boy found it difficult to breath. He was not sure whether the air was bad or if the sob that tried to escape his lips was the reason for his inability to take a deep breath. His small, petite fingers were clenched into fists as his nails pressed into the palms of his hands; strong enough for the young boy to notice but not nearly enough to pierce the skin; his body was just so tense as he sat there, just hoping that his father was alright.

The young boy, who just turned twelve a few months ago, was wearing a short sleeved pullover with the hood pulled up and over his face just ever so slightly, hiding his beautiful emerald eyes from being seen. A few strands of his now hazelnut brown hair would fall into his face as he did not care or deemed it unnecessary to comb it today, neither did he care to re-dye it into the bright blonde it had been over the past few years.

Hidden behind the white door the young boy was staring at was his father who was getting a checkup and probably some new descriptions for medicine he might need to take. Alan was dreading the news the doctor would have for his family that always seemed so happy and lively. He only had heard about his father's illness during his first year in school when his mother owled him, but they never really explained it to him until he got back home. They wanted him to concentrate on his classes and wished for him to have nothing to worry about.

The Gryffindor flinched when something touched his hand and when he lifted his gaze he didn't notice he dropped, he could see a hand placed over his own, prying at it to open the fist. Alan glanced sideways and noticed his mother looking at him with a beautiful but sad smile that failed to reach her eyes, glistening with unshed tears. Alan forced himself to relax the muscles in his hands, letting his mother get a hold of his hand as she rubbed soothing circles over the nearly nonexistent bruises his fingers had caused without damaging his skin.

The young boy felt like suffocating in this hallway even though there was enough air to fill his burning lungs. He let his mother pull him towards her body in a soothing, motherly embrace that until now never failed to calm him down. "Don't worry please, Alan. Your father is a fighter, like you and Lion's don't cry" she whispered soothingly while Alan closed his eyes, pained. Raising his left hand, he picked at the hem of his pullover around his neck and raised his to gently rub away his tears, only leaving his lashes glistening telling the truths of his sadness as well as the red patches beneath his eyes, the skin irritated by the salty tears.
Usually he would be scolded for wiping his face with his clothes and he half expected his mother to comment, but that never happened. She just smiled sadly as her stare once again fixated on the white door in front of the waiting area they were currently occupying.

The green eyed boy's head snapped up when he heard the faint creaking of an opening door. The abrupt movement making the hazelnut brown hair fall into his eyes, but he was quick to brush them out of the way as he hold his breath, watching a corpulent woman with kind features head towards them. Her hair was bound back in a loose ponytail and her hands were holding a folder, certainly with some information about his father's state.
Upon meeting the hopeful gaze of the young student, she gently smiled back at him. Alan's heart felt constricting by the crushing hope and worry he was feeling as many emotions swirled in his head making him feel lightheaded and dizzy.

His hand clasped around his mother's hand and if it hurt she did not bat an eyelash, her eyes glued to the nurse's lip, awaiting the news she was probably about to tell them. "How is he?" she breathed out the words, that one question that occupied their minds for the past few days until they could think of nothing else. It was four days ago when his father suddenly started coughing, losing his consciousness. After that everything happened fast and before Alan could blink twice they were in the hospital, while the medi-witches told him that they could not visit his father because he needed rest.

Yet they visited him every day and he never opened his eyes during that time. Both of them were told not to enter the room and now there she was, dressed in white robes. "He is stable again and he is conscious" she explained with a warm, soft voice and no matter how hard Alan tried, he couldn't stop the flow of tears that now ran freely down his cheeks. A glance towards his mother showed him that even she was barely holding back the tears that threatened to fall, the hand that wasn't holding tight onto his, was clasped over her mouth as she choked out a sob.

"He was asking for his family and who are we to deny his wishes?" She gently proposed to them and the words felt like rain after a draught, washing away the sorrow of these past days when they couldn't life but only function. "We diagnosed a rare case of a magical flu on Mister Vanes, if you would follow me inside please?" She asked as both of them numbly stood up. "What does that mean?" Alan asked while following the nurse into the room, never letting go of his mother's hand. Worry filled his eyes as he caught sight of his father, he looked like a ghost; pale and exhausted. But when he caught sight of his visitors his face lit up and a tired smile stretched over his face, making wrinkles appear at the corner of his eyes.

He beckoned the young Gryffindor over, patting on the sheet next to him and Alan's breath caught in relief to be close to his father. He shuffled over, carefully sitting down next to him. "Hey little Lion, how was your day?" And so Alan began to tell him stories about his week and then about Hogwarts. Even about the crazy Deputy Ackerley(OOC: now retired) and this adventure. Successfully distracted by his father's questions, it gave his mother time to talk with the nurses and the doctors about how they would proceed with the treatment of Alan's father's disease. Something neither of them would be very happy about, but it must be done in order to give his father the best chances to win this battle against the illness.

Alan only was told during the time they were about to leave the hospital, that his father would need to be treated in a different area, a different country, a different continent even. The news nearly crushed his heart, his family meant everything and he could not just drop out of school either. Alan felt like crying, like screaming at the nurses and doctors to make things work in St. Mungos. He did not think it was fair in any way to allow this. His mother tried to explain to him that there was no other way and that he would not be completely alone, that she would visit Alan and that everything was going to be alright. But was this true? Alan knew that while the disease could be lethal it had a high chance of getting treated… if his father would be transferred to the other hospital. Was it egotistical that Alan didn't want his parents to be gone for an uncertain amount of time? He would miss them dearly. A shiver ran down his spine as he was told that he couldn't see them for a while. His parents wanted to start the special treatment of the disease as soon as possible and would take a flight the coming week.

”So what about me? Where do I stay?” The young Gryffindor fought against his tears, as the dried streaks of the salty tears began to itch ever so slightly. He would need to wash his face later fo get rid of this itch, but currently more important things occupied his mind.

On their way home with the Knight Bus - which wasn't a comfortable ride at all, but his mother didn't find it responsible to apparate in her emotional condition - his mother explained that she already contacted her sister, since she and his dad already expected things to turn out like this. They had known from the beginning that St. Mungos did not specialize on this kind of disease and that there were specialists who could make his dad better. Alan could not believe they knew all along and did not mention it to him once. He felt betrayed, but at the same time he felt unbelievable sad. He loved his aunt and would be happy to see his two cousins again, but he also would have liked to know this sooner. All these information was crushing him, he still felt the pressure of the tears wanting to escape, but he hold them back as to not show weakness. Lions don't cry after all.

Alan pulled the hood down for it to cast a shadow over his eyes, to hide the sparkling the unshed tears were causing. When they arrived at the manor, hidden from a Muggle's eye by many wards that were layered as to make it seem like an old warehouse, his mother gently took his hand into her own and led him out of the bus. His head was spinning by the harsh movements of the Knight Bus and he hoped he did not have to experience this anytime soon. Apparation was bad, but this felt like hell. He had hoped the Knight Bus would make them arrive safely and was glad nothing bad happened. He wondered how a Muggle would react to driving in that insane vehicle, when even a wizard hoped the experience would not repeat.

Entering the manor it felt empty, as if it lost its charm overnight, it did not feel comfortable knowing that the place he always knew to be his home would be empty coming week. No one would live here for a while besides the house elves who would probably not do much beside keeping the place clean. Alan would have to leave London behind for a while until his father and mother would be back. Until then he would live at his aunt's place located somewhere in the North of Germany. He had been there before for visits but he never thought about living there. It made him fear what was about to come. How would he manage? How were his two cousins thinking about the situation? They were both nineteen and would probably be annoyed that they would have to share their room with him. They basically had to share their room now and he would get one of theirs. They must be mad at him or something even though he hoped not. He did not want to be a bother for them.

Entering his room the young boy threw himself on the ground and screamed into his pillow, finally letting the tears stream down his face in a never ending flow. He hugged the pillow tight and would lay there for a while, before he turned his head to the nightstand, looking at the framed picture of his dad, his mother and himself; all smiling and happy. The pic was taken a couple of years ago, after Alan showed his first signs of magic at an age of seven. He reached out and took the picture in his hand, staring at it for a while before he hugged it tightly. His father would fight this and he would win this.

The following week was no better. It turned out to be a difficult mix of packing his things, doing the summer homework and occasionally visiting his dad in the hospital, who seemed even more tired because of the stress he was going through to be transferred. Alan just wanted this to be over… wanted his dad to be healthy and alright again. But he would have to wait for that to happen, until his father was treated, however long that would take. Alan had no doubt that his father would be able to fight the illness, he was the best and Alan was sure he would make the disease go away. Whether it was a hopeless thought of a pre teen, he didn't care, it was the thought that let him keep moving. He just needed this confidence in his father as it would not do anything to just be sad all the time.

It was a Saturday morning when Alan was standing at the airport and for the first time he would have to fly alone for the first time and it made him nervous. His mother was with him but he would have to do the flying in the plane again, because he was too young for a portkey use without supervision. Bis mother was too afraid that he would accidentally let go of it midway so he had once again approach a more Muggle way. Not that the Knight Bus was in any way Muggle but it should be understandable what was meant. His pale hands gripped the small suitcase tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. It was enchanted with an expanding charm to fit more into it that it should have been possible. For Muggles it would look like a normal suitcase. The only luggage he took with him onto the train itself was a lion plushie.

Saying his goodbyes to his mom was the worst, he had to hold back crying and made her promise to be safe and to take care of dad. She made him promise to think positive and to listen to his aunt. Alan nodded, promising this with slightly teary eyes before a stewardess led him where he had to go. Aan shuffled behind her, intimidated by this place and all the tall people around him in suits and on phoneys. He think that was how the Muggle devices were called, if he remembered correct. It took a while until he was in the airplane with someone from the personal to check up on him every now and then. This whole experience was frightening for the twelve year old, who for not a second let go of his plushie. He could not wait until they hit the ground again, so that his cousins could pick him up. He really hoped they would notice him between all these tall people in suits. Most of them looked like business people, only a few were dressed casual.

But they found him. They found him and brought him ‘home’.