Hello everyone! So, this is one of the things I do when I have writer's block—I take key scenes and rewrite them from a different perspective. These scenes will be from A Mishap and an Opportunity. I'll include the corresponding chapter with each one. You'll see various perspectives, from Madame Pomphrey to Regulus Black (maybe). I'll be updating sporadically, whenever a new scene hits me. No spoilers, so you'll only see scenes from as many chapters as I've got in the main story. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing.

Remember, I'm always open to reviews, or suggestions for scenes you want to see from a new perspective.

This is Harry's first visit to the hospital wing, as told from Madame Pomphrey's perspective. It corresponds to Chapter 8.

First Encounter

"My goodness!" Madame Pomphrey exclaimed as the group of five entered the infirmary, the new transfer student hanging barely conscious between James and Remus. "What happened? Set him here," she said, already waving her wand to cast a diagnostic spell.

Honestly, Poppy thought as she read the results of her diagnostic, the trouble these boys get into. And now they've gone and dragged the new boy in with them.

"A spell backfired," James—he'd been in there so often Poppy might as well call him by his first name—replied as he and Remus lowered Harrison onto the bed. The boy's face was pale and drawn in pain. Poppy caught the glare James cast at Sirius and didn't really have to wonder at who cast the spell that "backfired."

"Hmph. You boys need to learn to be more careful. You were very lucky, Mr. Carter," Poppy said, now directing her words at the injured boy, "that it was only two ribs. It could have been your sternum or pelvis."

The boy winced. "Can you fix it?" he asked.

"I certainly can, but you'll have to stay here and rest for an hour or so for the spell to take the maximum effect," she informed him. The boy groaned—a typical response when a patient was told he'd have to stay in the hospital wing for longer than five minutes, especially among the boys.

"At least you'll have a good excuse to skip the rest of your classes today," Sirius offered. "We still have to go to DADA."

Poppy rolled her eyes as she twirled her wrist in a practiced motion to repair Harrison's broken ribs. She couldn't count the number of students who faked sickness or injury to get out of class. They were always sorely disappointed. Harrison winced again as his bones snapped back together, but Poppy found it curious that wincing was all he did—quite a few students actually cried out when they had their broken bones healed, and several had even cried (though, that was mostly the first and second years). The gears started turning in her head, wondering at all the different reasons his pain tolerance—or at least his ability to hide pain—was so high.

"Thanks, Madame Pomphrey," Harrison said, nodding at her. She smiled back indulgently.

"You're welcome, dear. Here's a pain-reliever if you need it, and you had better stay and rest for at least an hour."

"Yes, Madame," Harrison replied, taking the potion from her.

"Very good. Now, you boys. Shouldn't you be in class?"

"But it's already halfway over!" James protested. "There's no point going now."

Poppy raised an eyebrow, but finally she conceded. "Very well. You can stay here—quietly," she added firmly, "until your next class begins, then I want you out of my hospital!"

"Thanks, Madame Pomphrey!" James exclaimed, and the others nodded their agreement. Poppy sighed and shook her head before returning to her office, leaving the door cracked open so she could monitor them. The sounds of their conversation drifted back to her.

"I'm sorry, Harrison. I didn't mean for my spell to hit you," the young Black was saying.

"But you did mean for it to hit Severus," Harrison responded, and Poppy's ears perked up. It was a rare thing that a student had the courage to tell off a friend for cursing an enemy. Poppy was fully aware of the rivalry between the four Gryffindor boys—though more particularly Mr. Potter and Mr. Black—and the Slytherin boy Severus Snape. Goodness knew all of them had been in her infirmary often enough after a scuffle in the corridor.

"You're lucky the damage was reversible," Harrison continued. "What if you'd chosen some other spell?"

"Then Snivellus would have gotten what he deserved," Sirius retorted angrily. Poppy pursed her lips in disapproval, but it wasn't her place to correct the boy, especially since they thought they were alone.

"Do you really think he deserves to be injured?" Harrison said pointedly, and Poppy felt a touch of pride at the new boy and his nondiscriminatory attitude. There was a moment of silence, then the volume went down too low for Poppy to discern any more words—though she could hardly be deaf to the poorly stifled laughter that erupted several minutes later. She smiled slightly, glad that their disagreement was over.

Approximately twenty minutes later, Poppy left her office to shoo the four troublemakers away from her patient. There were grumblings and protests, but eventually the four of them left. As Poppy turned away to return to her office and allow Harrison to rest, she caught a wistful, almost longing look on the boy's face as his friends left. She didn't know what to make of it. She found herself hoping that her spell worked faster than usual and the boy was able to rejoin his friends—menaces though they were. She also noticed the pain potion was sitting, either forgotten or deliberately ignored, on the far side of the bedside table.