Note (01): This story will be based on actions of my characters in Free Play or otherwise inspired by the characters in my 'party' in a particular scene. There is no guarantee that I will finish this story, but I will put a list on my profile of stories I've given up on, if anyone else would like to adopt them.

Idea: 2nd Year - Borgin and Burkes - Instead of Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey.

Pairings: None

Note (02): Dumbledore is the clichéd-evil-headmaster in this story.

Note (03): Saber is an OC. Though he'll have an ongoing role in this story, he will not be a major character, after the first few chapters anyway.

Word Count:761

"Oh, dear me. What on earth are you doing here, Mr. Potter?" Harry heard a voice behind him say. Harry turned and sighed in relief. It was Madam Pomfrey, the medi-witch of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the iron-fisted ruler of the Hospital Wing.

"I don't know. I went through the floo. I meant to be in Diagon Alley, but ended up here instead. Where is here?" Harry answered.

"Knockturn Alley – not a place for young children to be without a proper guardian. I'm here for some rarer books on Healing. That store over there has them." She pointed to a shabby looking store with a sign that said 'Saber's Rare Books'. It was faded, and the biggest 'S' looked as though it could fall off at any moment.

"We'll I'm certainly not leaving you here alone to wander – who knows what sort of trouble you'll get yourself in to – you'll just have to come with me. After I get the books, we'll find whoever it is you are supposed to be in Diagon Alley with."

"The Weasleys."

"The Weasleys then. Not hard to miss – bright red hair, the lot of them. This way, Mr. Potter." Harry followed her into the bookstore.

"Ah, Poppy. Here for the books, then? Don't suppose I could convince you to stay for tea?" the man behind the counter said. His hair was a silvery blonde, and he had sky blue eyes. If Harry hadn't seen him walk over to the shelves, he would have expected the man to float.

"I'm afraid not today Saber. Mr. Potter here has gotten lost. I'll be returning him to his watchers after this."

"Ah, of course," Saber said, pulling a few books out, and placing them on the counter. "I have a few more in the back." He disappeared through a door. Madam Pomfrey took a closer look at Harry.

"Do your hands hurt?" she asked. Harry frowned and looked down at them. Several nasty scratches were on them. They throbbed painfully, as if realizing he just noticed them. Madam Pomfrey must have caught his wince of pain, as she immediately picked him up and placed him on the counter. "Let me see them, Mr. Potter."

At the first wince of pain, she lifted him up and placed him on the counter. She frowned at how light he was, but continued on anyway.

"Let me see them, Mr. Potter," she told him, holding one of her hands out for his. She ran a basic diagnostic spell on them. They weren't infected, though the debris needed to be cleaned out of the scratches before she could heal them.

There seemed to be a problem with the diagnostic spell though, as though it was trying to tell her something, but couldn't. She frowned, cast a skin-friendly cleaning spell at Harry's hands, then healed the scratches.

"Mr. Potter, may I do a deeper diagnostic on you?"

"Again?"

"It's not like the one I just did, Mr. Potter. It-" Then Harry interrupted her.

"-shows you a more in-depth history of my current and past injuries. The one you used was just for surface injuries. The deeper one takes more magic, so healers don't usually use it first."

"How did you know that, Mr. Potter?" Harry frowned.

"You told me."

"I did?" Poppy was puzzled. She couldn't remember doing that. "Mr. Potter, have I cast the deeper diagnostic on you before?"

"Eight times last year, Madam Pomfrey. Don't you remember?"

"I'm afraid, Mr. Potter, that I do not. May I cast it again?" Harry's frown grew deeper, but he nodded. "Thank you." She cast it, and then gasped in horror at the results it showed her.

"You did that every time too," Harry told her.

"Mr. Potter, this is-"

"-very serious," Harry interrupted her again, using a higher-pitched voice than normal. "I must take this to the Headmaster immediately. Stay right there, and don't you move a muscle!" Harry frowned again, and his voice returned to normal. "And then you come back, and let me out of the hospital wing as though it was nothing."

"Here we are," Saber said, coming back into the shop front, placing another four books in the pile. "Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you Saber. How much?"

"Forty galleons," he said, placing the books in a bag. "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not. Check on me for the next few days, and make sure I remember casting a deeper diagnostic on Mr. Potter. Thank you, and goodbye Saber." Saber frowned as the two left the store.