Harry had wondered if he'd imagined the young man who had taken him back to his room. He ended up wondering if the man in the garden happened either, or if the whole day was just the product of his brain damage.

If not for the medal.

There was nothing in the paper about a shoot out. There was no signs that he could see of the violence.

So it was almost a relief when the young man, Eggsy was it?, turned up so casual and calm on the outside and clearly a bundle of nerves.

Harry set down his newspaper, smoothing it over his lap. He was being kept in bed officially.

"Yes, I believe I did. Though I wasn't entirely who or what I was calling. Come in, dear boy."