Poppy's Summer Surprise

Poppy Pomfrey had already been the Mediwitch at Hogwarts for several decades. However, the more Muggleborns attended Hogwarts the more Muggle illnesses they brought into the castle, and even if magical potions were much more efficient than Muggle medicine they couldn't heal all of the Muggle diseases Pomfrey had to deal with.

Therefore, Professor Dumbledore had suggested Madam Pomfrey should use the summer holidays to work as a trainee in a Muggle hospital and had introduced her to a hospital that was being led by a Squib.

"Don't worry, Poppy, Dr. Rodgers grew up in the magical world, and he'll be thrilled to have you there. I know him very well, and he knows the truth why you want to spend the summer there. He promised to personally ensure that you'll receive the best possible training."

Fortunately, Dr. Rodgers had even a fireplace in his office, from where she could return home to her private quarters at Hogwarts every day.

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Poppy walked after Dr. Rodgers through the corridors of the hospital. It was the first day of her training, and the man was giving her a tour around the building.

"Here is the children's ward," he informed her, sighing. Noticing that she threw him a strange look, he explained, "We just have a sad case here. Yesterday, a cute little boy of perhaps three years was left in front of our door all on his own with a bad head wound. We have no idea, who he is or who his parents or guardians are. As far as I heard this morning he is conscious now but he won't speak at all."

"Oh the poor lad," Poppy replied. "Unfortunately, I don't have any experience with so young children since my patients are all between eleven and seventeen years old." She followed the doctor into a small room with a single bed, in which she could see a small boy, whose face was half covered by a huge bandage.

"Hello little one," Dr. Rodgers said gently, and the boy's bright green eyes moved from one to the other.

"Hello sweetie," Poppy greeted the child and suddenly had the impression as if an expression of recognition flashed over the visible part of the boy's face.

"Po-Pi," he breathed in a hardly understandable voice.

"He talked," the doctor whispered in delight, while Poppy wondered if she had heard correctly.

She stepped over to the bed to get a close look at the child, of whom she couldn't see much except for the glassy green eyes. 'Can that be... but how...' she wondered. "Yes, I'm Poppy, sweetie; can you tell me your name?" she asked softly, gently stroking the child's cheek.

"Hawwy," the boy mumbled anxiously.

"Hello Harry," Poppy replied in the same soft voice, feverishly thinking about what to do. 'If he doesn't want people to know who he is, then I should respect that, but I have to help him,' she mused.

Seeing that Dr. Rodgers was already on his way out of the room to tell the good news that the boy was finally speaking, Poppy whispered, "Harry, I'll come back later. I know, who you are, and I promise that I'm going to help you, sweetie." Then she hurried behind the doctor.

"Dr. Rodgers, please wait a moment," she motioned the man to wait and told him, "I know the boy. It's Harry Potter. I don't know if you know his name?"

"Of course," the doctor replied, clearly shocked by the news. "Are you sure, Poppy?"

"He recognized me, Doctor. Yes, I'm sure, but I'd like you to keep this a secret. If the boy doesn't want anyone to know, he'll surely have his reasons. He was supposed to be staying with his relatives since his parents died. Please let me try to talk to him first in order to find out what happened."

"All right, Poppy. If he knows you, you'll be the perfect person to care for him. Please do whatever you deem necessary. You have my full support."

"Thank you, Doctor," Poppy replied in relief.

"Return to Harry's room if you wish. I'll collect you there at lunchtime," Rodgers suggested, causing Poppy to throw him a grateful smile.

The Mediwitch slowly re-entered Harry's room, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "Harry, do you still remember me?" Poppy asked softly.

"Yes. You'we Aunt Poppy," Harry whispered. "You maked me all bettew."

"That's right; I healed you when you were sick and your Mummy called me to make you better. What happened to you, sweetie?" she asked cautiously.

Harry didn't reply but gave her a frightened look.

"It's all right, Harry. I know that you probably don't want to speak about it, but if you told me what happened, I'd probably be able to help you. I know that you were living with your Mummy's sister and her family. Did they do that to you, Harry?"

Harry gave the nice lady a tiny nod, wincing at the pain that the small movement caused, but remained quiet.

"Does your head hurt a lot?" Poppy enquired softly, gently feeling his forehead.

"Ye," Harry whispered miserably.

'I wonder if he still remembers magic,' Poppy mused and hesitantly asked, "Harry, do you remember that I healed you with magic?"

"Mashic?" Harry mouthed with a terrified expression on his lips.

"Yes Harry, magic. Would you mind if I took my wand and made your pain go away a bit?" she asked softly.

Harry gave her an uncertain look, slightly rubbing his obviously hurting forehead. Poppy slowly pulled her wand out of her robe pocket and cast a diagnostic spell on the child, causing Harry to giggle.

"What's so funny?" Poppy asked surprised, before she cast a light pain relieving spell that would help with his headache for a few hours.

"Feels tingwy," Harry giggled, "but my head's bettew now. Thank you."

"Please don't tell anyone that I used magic on you. Only you, and I, and Dr. Rodgers know magic here, because this is a Muggle hospital for non magical people like your relatives, and we can't tell them about magic." Seeing that Harry looked outright frightened, Poppy asked, "Harry, what's wrong? You know that you're a wizard just like I'm a witch, don't you?"

Harry looked absolutely terrified. "Uncle Vewnon said thewe's no mashic," he whispered hesitantly.

Poppy let out a small snort. "That's because he's a Muggle and doesn't know magic," she explained patiently. "Have you never done strange things so far, which other people can't do?"

Harry's expression turned sad. "I'm a fweak," he mumbled, averting his eyes to his bed covers.

"No Harry, you're not a freak but a very powerful young wizard. You're nearly four, aren't you?" Poppy asked gently.

"Ye," Harry whispered.

'How can I get the child to talk?' Poppy mused and decided to try it the Slytherin way. "Harry, shall I contact your relatives and tell them that you're here?" she asked softly, causing Harry to panic.

"No, pwease don't. They left me hewe; they hate me so much, because I'm a fweak and such a bawden," he whispered, and Poppy had to listen carefully to understand the hardly audible voice.

"So you don't want to return to them?" Poppy enquired soothingly.

Harry sighed. "I don't want go to the owphanage, but nobody wants me," he said sadly.

"You don't have to go to an orphanage, Harry," Poppy replied firmly. "If nothing else works, I'll take you in. However, there is a reason why you were placed with the Dursleys, and only if they abused you, I can take you away from them. Therefore, you have to tell me exactly what happened. How did you get that head wound?"

"Dudley pushed me down the staiws and then Uncle Vewnon twowed me into the cupboad, but I hit the wall and thewe was so much blood. Then Aunt Tunia told him they had to take me to the hospital, and then they bwought me hewe and left me," Harry whispered, speaking in a slow but firm voice.

"Oh my poor child," Poppy replied. "Harry, you'll have to stay here in the hospital for at least another week, probably two since they only use Muggle methods here. During that time, I'll try to arrange something. Please be patient and don't speak to others about the matter. You have to sleep now, so that your head can heal and your fever comes down, but I'll come again later, and I'll tell you more about magic. Sleep well, Harry." Poppy placed a kiss on the child's cheek and motioned him to close his eyes, watching as he drifted off to sleep in the blink of an eye.

'As soon as I return to Hogwarts tonight, I'll speak with Minerva, Pomona, and Severus. They have to help me to take Harry in, if necessary against the Headmaster's wishes. We can't possibly leave Harry in his relatives' care after this.' She was so lost in her thoughts that Dr. Rodgers had to address her three times before she noticed his presence.

"Did you have a chance to speak with Harry?" the doctor asked gently.

"Yes; we spoke about magic and about his relatives. Apparently, his uncle has done this to him." She explained what Harry had told her and said, "I'd like to take him in, but when his parents died, Dumbledore sent him there because of blood wards or something."

Rodgers let out a snort. "They won't help against abuse within the house," he said angrily. "Come to my office. I'm going to call Dumbledore right away."

A few minutes later, Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace in Dr. Rodger's office. Listening to Rodger's story, he said, "I can't imagine that Harry's relatives would treat their nephew like that. Let me go and speak with them, before we make any decisions. I'll be back as soon as possible." With that he took the Floo network to Arabella Figg's home, a Squib, whom he had asked to live near Harry and keep an eye on the child.

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While Harry was asleep, Rodgers guided Poppy through the other divisions, before an alarm alerted him to the fact that Dumbledore had just entered his office through the Floo.

Poppy noticed immediately that the Headmaster looked much older than before. "Poppy, you're free to take Harry in, provided that you stay with him at Hogwarts. We'll strengthen the wards around the castle, so that he'll be safe there," he said without any other explanation but looked ready to kill someone.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Poppy replied in relief. "He'll have to remain here for at least a week, even if I may potions on him, before we can transport him. He has a very bad concussion." She gave Rodgers an enquiring look.

"Yes of course, Poppy," he replied in understanding.

"All right, Poppy," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "In the meantime, I'll prepare the adoption papers, so that you only have to fill them out and sign them. I suggest that you decide on new godparents for Harry as well."

Before he stepped into the fireplace, Dumbledore turned to Poppy once more. "What potions do you need, Poppy? I'll send Severus over as soon as they're ready."

The Healer conjured a small parchment and gave the Headmaster a list. "Severus should have all of them in stock anyway. Thanks Albus."

During the rest of the week, Poppy spent much time at Harry's side and even stayed with the boy over night in a second bed that Rodgers had arranged for her, knowing that she couldn't just enlarge the bed in a Muggle hospital. By the time Harry's condition had improved enough, so that she could take him to Hogwarts, Poppy had already received the confirmation of the adoption from the Ministry stating Poppy as guardian and adoptive mother and Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape as godparents.

Knowing that the Knight Bus was the magical transportation method that would harm Harry's condition the least, Poppy used the Knight Bus to take Harry to Hogsmeade and carried the much too light three-year-old up to Hogwarts.

"Harry, this is Hogwarts, your new home," she happily told the child, before she took him to her own quarters, where the house elves had already added a children's room that was situated between her living room and her office, so that she could even have an eye on him while she worked.

"This is your room, sweetie," she said gently, sitting him down on the bed.

Harry looked around in confusion. "My woom?" he asked astonished. "Hawwy's woom?"

"Yes, it's your own room, my child," Poppy explained patiently, before she carefully pulled the child into a light embrace, noticing that Harry stiffened for a moment.

It took a few minutes, but then she could feel that Harry slightly hugged her back. "Thanks Aunt Poppy," he whispered hoarsely, while tears of joy began to run down his cheeks.

The End


I'm not a native speaker of English; please excuse my mistakes or tell me, so that I can correct them.

All recognizable characters belong to Mrs. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.