4 – More Problems Popping around
Not only soaking wet but also shivering from the cold, Harry quickly popped himself away, straight into Poppy's private quarters, from where he hesitantly emerged into her office.
"Oh Harry! You gave me quite a fright," Poppy said gently, throwing him a disbelieving look as she took in his appearance. "What happened to you?" she queried, hurriedly casting a drying charm on the child, before she sat down and gently pulled him up onto her lap.
The five-year-old threw her a grateful smile and explained what Peeves had done to him. Malcolm had long ago warned him about Peeves, so Harry was sure who the strange creature was, but he was still shocked about what had happened.
"Why did you come here on your own anyway?" Poppy asked gently, observing the boy in concern as he fiercely rubbed his forehead.
"Oh right, I nearly forgot to tell you. Misty is sick. She told me to visit you and tell you that she can't come today. She is very hot."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that she is ill, sweetie. Does she need any potions?"
"No, Cicero asked Master Professor Snape for potions," Harry replied, tiredly resting his achy head on Poppy's shoulder. 'What did I do wrong now?' he mused, 'I don't feel good.'
"Harry, are you feeling all right?" Poppy whispered, feeling through her robes that Harry's face seemed to be very warm.
"Not so good," Harry replied sadly, causing the Mediwitch to pull her wand.
"You seem to have caught the flu from Misty," Poppy sighed. "Harry, I want you to rest in my guest room for the moment. You're in no condition to pop yourself back home."
Feeling too bad to protest, Harry allowed himself to be settled into the bed in the guest room and obediently drank the potions Poppy made him take. "Mummy will be worried," he croaked tiredly as he slowly drifted off into a potions induced Healing sleep.
"I'll take care of that," Poppy replied and called Cicero, whom she knew well because he often brought her the batches Severus had just brewed for her.
"Yes, Mistress Poppy?" Cicero popped up next to her, eyeing the sleeping Harry in concern. "Did Harry catch the flu from Misty?" he queried.
"Yes," Poppy sighed. "Could you please inform Misty? Considering that she is ill and won't be able to look after him, I'm going to keep him here."
"Very well, thank you so much, Mistress Poppy," Cicero replied and softly brushed a kiss on Harry's burning forehead, before he excused himself and popped away.
Poppy took a seat on the edge of the bed and gently bathed the boy's flushed face with a cool cloth when she heard a loud pop behind herself.
"I'm sorry, Mistress Poppy," Misty apologized as she made herself visible, causing Poppy to take in the elf's sickly appearance in concern. Dark rings were surrounding her large glassy eyes, and her cheeks held an unusual dark red colour.
"Misty," Poppy said softly, "you don't have to be sorry for anything. You seem to be very ill though, and I want you to lie down here next to Harry, so I can look after both of you."
"Yes, Mistress Poppy," Misty said obediently, "but I don't want Harry and me to be a burden."
"Nonsense, Misty, you're not a burden, and this is an order," she instructed the elf firmly.
Misty slipped into the bed next to Harry, who instantly cuddled close to her, visibly relaxing.
"He can sense you, even if he is fast asleep," Poppy said, smiling, and they both observed how a small smile began to play on the boy's lips.
During the next few days, Poppy nursed Misty and Harry back to health and only released them when she was sure they were completely fine. Before Misty could pop them back to the elves' quarters, Poppy held Harry back. "Harry, do the elves have Christmas as well?"
"Yes, we have a huge Christmas tree in the assembly room, and Father Christmas brings presents," Harry beamed, glad that he was back to health right in time for the big event.
Poppy handed him a small present. "Here, sweetie; I have a present for you as well. You may put it under the tree and open it on Christmas morning."
Harry eyed the present with excitement and giggled. It was wrapped in green paper with small blue dragons that were roaring from time to time. "Thank you so much, Mistress Poppy," he said, smiling.
"Harry, don't call me Mistress. Just say Poppy or Aunt Poppy please," Poppy instructed him gently, imagining her colleagues' expressions if they heard a first-year Harry address her as if he were a house-elf.
"All right, Aunt Poppy," Harry cheered and leaned into Misty's embrace as she popped them away.
HP HEALER POMFREY HP
Harry received several toys for Christmas just like his friends, especially Lego blocks, which he liked a lot. However, his favourite present was the small book, 'The Tales of Beedle the Bard,' which he had received from Poppy. Misty had to read a chapter for him every night, and Harry couldn't get enough of it, although he soon knew the stories by heart. During the following weeks, he pestered Malcolm to teach him how to read, and the elf was happy to instruct the eager boy, who was soon able to read the book to his friends, who all loved the short stories.
Twinkle taught the children to read and write as well as easy Maths from the beginning of the next school year onwards. The six-year-olds also learned to help with the elves' work. Every child had two adult elves that took the children with them all over the castle to teach them how to do their usual work, and the children slowly learned how to help their teachers. Every week, the children were assigned other elves, so they could experience the different kinds of work an adult elf at Hogwarts had to do.
Because of his still weak health condition, Harry always had to remain with his three guardians, Misty, Malcolm and Cicero. Normally, he joined Misty on Monday and Wednesday, Cicero on Tuesday and Thursday and Malcolm on Friday. During the weekends, the one of the three elves, who was the busiest, used to take him, and Harry learned quickly to help his guardians with their work.
One night, after hearing his friends talk about the tasks they had helped with during the day, a crying Harry found his way to the elves' infirmary, where Misty was just checking on her patients. Harry waited until she had administered a few potions, before he ran over to her. "The others learn so much I don't know anything about," he sobbed. "Will I be a bad elf when I'm big?"
"Oh, my poor sweetie," Misty cooed, pulling the child onto her arm to take him into her room, where she settled him down on her lap. "Harry, when you're eleven, you're going to attend school here as a student. You're not going to work as a house-elf. Therefore, for you it's much better to learn things like Healing and potions brewing than anything else. That's why you're always with Cicero, Malcolm and me. It's not only because of your health problems," she explained gently. "Now, stop crying, Harry. You don't want to get the achy pox again now, do you?"
"No," Harry said terrified, anxiously letting his tongue wander around his mouth to feel if they were any of the small things, relaxing when he couldn't find any. "Okay, thank you, Mummy," he mumbled tiredly, feeling very much reassured, especially when Misty took him by the hand and brought him back to his bed in the dormitory.
HP HEALER POMFREY HP
The practical instructions as well as the English language classes and Math classes continued into the next school year. However, the now seven-year-olds were also taught to pop themselves out of the castle and even over larger distances to prepare them for occasions, in which they would have to run errands for the teachers.
In the evening before their first practice, the children went to bed very excitedly. They talked for a long while about the possibilities they had once being able to pop themselves out of Hogwarts. 'It sounds like a lot of fun,' Harry mused in excitement as he slowly drifted off to sleep.
However, a few hours later, he woke up with a sore throat and a terrible headache. 'Oh no, I'm getting sick again,' he thought in annoyance, not recalling to have done anything strenuous during the last few days. Anxiously using his tongue to feel for pox in his mouth, he noticed there weren't any and decided that he probably had just caught a cold. In spite of feeling quite awful, he relaxed and resolved to hide his problems from Misty, not willing to miss the fun of popping himself out of the castle for the first time he could remember.
'If you told Misty, she'd give you a Pepperup potion, and you'd feel much better,' a small voice at the back of his head spoke up as he dragged himself to the classroom after efficiently avoiding his guardians at breakfast. 'But she'd keep me in bed nonetheless, and I don't want to miss today's class,' he replied to the annoying little voice, taking a seat at the back of the classroom.
"Today, we'll make a trip to Hogsmeade," Twinkle announced and brought the group out onto the grounds with a Roundkey. "Now, from here you'll pop yourselves down to the Hogwarts gates," the Headmaster's personal elf instructed the children. "You can see the gates from here."
The small elves nodded and popped themselves down the road. Harry sighed in relief as he managed to arrive next to his friends just behind the gate.
"You all did that very well," Twinkle commended them gently and proceeded to lead them through the main street of the small town, quietly informing them, which were the most important and frequently used shops and where they were situated, as they walked along the street, invisible to the wizards and witches who were doing their shopping.
Harry felt worse by the minute. He was shivering violently, and a white mist began to surround him as he tried to keep up with his classmates' pace. When they walked by The Three Broomsticks he still tried to listen to Twinkle's explanations, but when the elf showed them Honeydukes, instructing him to keep the place in mind because the Headmaster was likely to send them here for lemon drops, he slowly tuned the teacher's voice out.
"Now, this is Flourish and Blotts, the bookshop. Pop yourselves back now. Those, who think they're able to pop down to the castle, are free to pop themselves back to the entrance doors. All the others pop to the gates," Twinkle instructed them, and the small elves popped away.
Feeling utter relief at the prospect of going home, Harry told his foggy mind to pop back to the entrance door. He popped, only to notice the world turn around swiftly and become completely black.
Unbeknownst to Harry and the elves' group, he only managed to pop a few metres, before he fell unconscious, turning visible as his magic failed. Mere seconds later, a family passed by, discovering the unconscious child lying on the street.
"Look Arthur, a child. He's unconscious and seems to be all on his own!" Molly Weasley said horrified, causing her husband and her two younger children to curiously look at the boy. She stepped over to the child and gently laid a hand on the boy's forehead, letting out a large gasp. "He is burning up. Arthur, take Ron and Ginny, and I'll apparate the boy to St. Mungo's."
"No, Mummy stay with us," her own boy protested vehemently, trying to cling to her robes.
"I'm sorry, Ronnie, but I'll be back soon," Molly promised as she carefully cradled the unknown child onto her arms and apparated away.
tbc...
A Roundkey is an elves' group Portkey like I explained earlier in the story – just in case it was unclear.
Thank you so much for your kind reviews. I hope you liked the chapter.
I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them.
All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story.