Harry spent the following couple of days mostly laid out in bed. While he may have been healed of his recent bout at Uncle Vernon's hands, it turned out he had many old injuries that hadn't healed correctly, according to Madame Pomfrey. Which meant one thing. Skelegrow.

The suppliers of the disgusting potion should have been very pleased with the amount of money the matron was most likely contributing to their bank accounts. He had to regrow several bones in multiple parts of his body. Some of it was from old breaks, but a lot of it was from malnutrition during his most formative years.

Every morning and evening the mediwitch came to Harry's room and consulted with him about her plans for the next twelve hours before performing all sorts of spells and having him drink tons of potions. She also put him on a specially prescribed diet that was extra high in calorie content and nutrients. There was a special shake he had to drink that reminded Harry of the protein drinks he had seen Dudley consume while building muscle. He had to admit, though, it was all very effective. He actually gained five inches in height and a full two stones in weight. He was kind of eager to see how his new physique would act while flying.

He also had to have a series of vaccines that she had been alarmed to find out he had never received and had his eyes rechecked. Turns out his glasses prescription was horribly ill-suited for him. It was amazing he had been able to see the snitch all those years. She explained that perhaps that had once again his subconscious magic working with his sheer force of will. There unfortunately wasn't anything she could do for the scars without basically removing his skin and regrowing it all from scratch. But with his magic still covering them, he was okay with that.

It was on one of the last visits that she broached a subject with him that he had been sure she would never bring up. "Now, Harry, while I am able to heal the physical ailments from the abuse, there are other effects that are outside of my specialty. I suggest that you start meeting with a mind healer."

Harry started to shake his head emphatically. While he had been okay with telling those close to him, he couldn't imagine telling someone he didn't know of the trouble he had gone through. Besides, what's to say that it wouldn't end up on the front page of the Prophet?

"Now, I understand your hesitation, but I must insist. While telling those close to you is a wonderful step in the right direction, one that I commend you for, it is just scratching the surface on the therapy that you undoubtedly could benefit from. Besides, I think there are some experiences you haven't told anyone about, yes?"

Harry's eyes widened in alarm. How could she know? Molestation didn't really harm the body, so how did she come to that conclusion?

"That spell that I performed to uncover your medical history shows up as purple when there's a self-inflicted injury, dearie. Now I was pleased to see the scars on your arm were not from your own hand, it did still show something along your thighs?"

Harry mutely nodded. He took a big gulp in and opened his mouth. No words came out. Madame Pomfrey sat patiently waiting for him to talk in his own time. Maybe she had some mind healer training after all. "It's not what you think. I didn't…you know…like purposely harm myself. I just…I don't know. It's hard to explain."

He had confessed it all to his hands that were twisting around themselves in his lap. She looked at him with a troubled expression as though she wasn't sure she could fully believe him. "I think I understand, but it does make me more resolved in the need for a mind healer, though. While you are a remarkably well-balanced young man for all that you've been through, I worry that something is eventually going to be the wand that breaks the erumpent's back? As you process all that happened, I have no doubt you'll have questions and concerns that some may not be able to answer or even comprehend."

Harry nodded his head in understanding before saying, "I'll think about it. Thank you, ma'am. For everything."

She patted his hands once more and said, "You are more than welcome, dear boy. We are so glad that we know the truth and could remove you from that awful situation. Now you just take it easy for a few more days and after that I expect you to feel better than you have in…well…ever." She gave him a sweet smile as she bid him goodbye and left him alone.

He snuggled back in his covers and moved his hands for a moment over his thighs. He didn't know anymore if he should be glad or not that he couldn't feel or see the scars. He supposed it was easy to pretend nothing had ever happened when you couldn't see them, but he knew they were still there. Hidden. Maybe for right now that's exactly where they all belonged. He could keep pretending for now. Besides. He had a dark wizard to murder. He had enough on his plate.

oooooooo

It was several days later while he was playing exploding snap with Ron and the twins that they were interrupted by Dumbledore coming into the sitting room. Harry had been pleased that for the last several days everyone had mostly acted like he was simply there for a visit, that his whole life and history hadn't gotten turned upside down.

He had a feeling that his time of peaceful avoidance was over with the arrival of the headmaster. After the old wizard greeted all who were present he asked "Harry, my dear boy, a word please?"

Harry got to his feet and walked on his new gangly legs after the still taller wizard. He felt like a new baby fawn learning to walk all over again the last few days and he still had twinges of growth spurt pains that left him gasping for breath at times.

After they settled into the library that was now pixie free it seemed that for once Dumbledore was hesitant to start. Harry waited. He wasn't eager to start talking either and didn't quite know what Dumbledore wanted to talk about.

Finally, after a heavy sigh that lowered his shoulders in weariness he began, "Harry, you have to know that I am so very sorry. I…" he sighed again and then brought his eyes to meet Harry's. "I never thought that such harm and mistreatment could have become of you by the hands of your relatives. It was my duty to ensure that you were loved and cared for and I failed you."

Harry opened his mouth to interrupt him but then stopped himself. He wasn't sure he wanted to give the headmaster any peace of mind. It was true, wasn't it? He had been left there without anyone checking in on him. The Dursley's could have been worse. He could have been at death's door any number of times over the years. And would anyone know besides old Mrs. Figg?

"I wanted to address where you will stay from now on. I think for now it would be best to confine you to either here at the order headquarters or at Hogwarts. The protection that your aunt's blood afforded you will be gone very soon, and that will make you very vulnerable. As much as I would love to give you some freedom to visit friends or even Diagon Alley, I simply can't. I'm sorry."

Harry nodded along as he listened. He wasn't sure that he really minded. He didn't feel like going out much, anyway. But he was left with a big blank spot in his life. "Sir, what about who's my guardian, now? I mean, who's in charge of me? I guess you are?"

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. He was wearing somewhat subdued burgundy robes that made his silver hair shine by contrast. "I am as close to a guardian as you will have for now, but I am not technically or officially so. With the current nature of things, we must keep all of this under wraps, so as far as the ministry is concerned you are still technically a ward of the Dursley's. We'll keep the medical report that Madame Pomfrey compiled on hand for the time when we are able to properly bring everything to light. We also can't officially have Sirius declared dead as by all accounts he was technically not in the Department of Mysteries that night. He was still a convict on the run and for us to confirm him being there without evidence of a body would raise a lot of suspicion on ourselves for associating with him."

"What? You mean we can't even have his name cleared or anything?" Harry sat forward and felt eager to jump to his feet.

"I'm afraid not, my boy. Until we have proof of Pettigrew's continued life and therefore Sirius' innocence, he will remain an escaped guilty man until proven otherwise." Harry was about to interrupt and continue his claims of indignation but Dumbledore continued, "that aside for now because rest assured it's only a temporary problem that we will eventually rectify, it still leaves the question of your guardianship. You are almost 16 and that leaves a little over a year left before you are a legal adult in the wizarding world. Until then, I feel that it will be up to me and other order members to be there for you when you are in need of an official adult."

Harry slumped down. He had been hoping that he could have been made a member of the Weasley family, perhaps. Or at least officially a ward of Dumbledore, Remus, or even McGonagall. He felt like a ship adrift at sea.

Dumbledore interrupted his musings with a question, "So I noticed you are still covering the scars. I fully understand, but I was wondering if you found it was effecting your magic at all?"

"My magic, sir?"

"Well, yes. Subconscious magic is a pretty obscure science that a lot of people don't really fully understand. They still study it in the Department of Mysteries, I believe. So now that you know about the subconscious magic at play but are not stopping it, I was wondering how that's affecting things."

"I don't really get what's going on, sir. I mean, why did I have so many magic numbers? And now I know about my subconscious magic working and while it doesn't stop the memories, it still covers my scars. It's just weird, sir." Freaky, Harry thought to himself.

"I would imagine that would all be very confusing you. To my best understanding, what was happening with your magic score is that you had other influences on your reading. If someone were to cast the spell to reveal a person's magic score as that person is conducting a spell, it would display two readings. Everyone has a number that represents the magic available to them at any given moment. If there is something influencing that magic, whether external or internal, then they will show two numbers. In your case, you had both external and internal forces at work. The external is Voldemort's magic in your scar and through his link to you that drains some of your power. Same as what happens with Snape.

Now when the brilliant Ms. Granger was able to segregate out that force it was revealed that you have an internal force at work, too. Your subconscious magic. That magic, while not as draining as Voldemort's influence, still causes you some drainage and gives you a third number. If we were able to stop your subconscious magic at work and also stop Voldemort's influence on you then you would find you would be significantly more powerful. As it stands, you're already above average in power levels with those influences in place. Take them away and I think, my boy, that with time and training you could be one of the most powerful wizards to ever live."

Harry just shook his head. It was hard to comprehend and even fully understand. To be a really powerful wizard? But have to stop his subconscious magic first? And stop Voldemort's influence somehow? It was a lot to take in.

"As for why your scars are still covered even though your memories are back, I think only you can fully answer that. With time and healing, you may find that your subconscious magic stops covering them, and instead, you would need to use a concealment charm to cover them instead. Right now, you subconsciously don't want them visible more than you consciously do. For the time being, I think I'll borrow a delightful muggle phrase and say let's put that all on the back burner. It would do you a lot of good to rest, have some fun, and let your body heal. And if you have any questions about any of that, my door is always open. Agreed?"

"Yes, sir."

Harry bid the professor goodbye as he left to go do important things. He stayed where he was sitting for a while, rubbing the back of his right hand where he knew the blood quill scars lay. Then he rubbed his face, his wrists, his arms, and imagined having all the scars revealed to anyone who looked at him.

oooooooooo

It was two days later when Harry received a welcome surprise one morning. He was laying stretched out on the sitting room couch trying to relieve some of his pains in his legs while listening to Ron reading Quidditch Weekly aloud.

"Listen to this, mate. They say that the Chudley Cannons are going to have a new keeper this year! They suspect that Jameson will be traded to the Tornadoes after all."

Harry was rubbing his thighs in frustration while flexing his ankles back and forth. "Again? Didn't they get a new keeper last year?"

"No, that was a chaser. Actually 2 chasers. They tend to not keep players for very long. At least, not the good ones. I wish they'd get a new seeker. Trimble is a joke. You should try for it after you graduate, mate. You'd be a shoo-in. You could fly circles around Trimble."

Harry stared at his long legs and shrugged. Who knew if he would be any good as a seeker anymore. His eyesight may be better but he had to give his smaller, malnourished frame some credit. It was very fast. He might not be as tall as Ron now, but he felt like a completely different person.

Their talk was interrupted by the fireplace flaring with a floo entry. Hermoine came stepping out gracefully with a bag slung over her shoulder. Her face lit up and she raced into Harry's arms without even bothering to dust the soot out of her bushy hair first.

"Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here! I got Ron's owl a few days ago and then it took me a few more days to convince my parents that I should come for a visit but they finally let me when I wouldn't shut up about it and I kept dragging them to every bookstore and library looking up guardianship laws and childhood trauma and basically anything I could to get you out of there…"

"Hermione! Let the boy breathe! He's fine, can't you see?" Ron finally interjected and she stuttered to a halt before sitting back and looking Harry up and down.

"You are, aren't you? I…I don't see a scratch on you. Pomfrey?"

Harry smiled, "Hello to you, too. And yes, Pomfrey patched me up just fine. More than fine, I guess. I basically have a new body. They say I won't be going back again. Even if they can't make it official or anything. You really didn't need to interrupt your vacation."

She slapped his shoulder and said, "Of course I did! It won't be much longer before the Weasley's are off and I really can't stay long but I had to make sure you are really okay…"

"The Weasleys? Ron? Your family is leaving?"

Ron rubbed the back of his head a bit before replying, "Yeah, I hadn't mentioned it yet. We're leaving the day after tomorrow for a few weeks to visit Aunt Muriel. I tried to convince mom that we didn't have to go, but she says Aunt Muriel is about to kick the bucket or something and this might be our last summer with her. I swear she's said that every year since I was five. But there you have it."

Harry nodded his head and held back his sigh. He didn't want to seem too disappointed, but he knew that with the Weasleys leaving he would be mostly alone in Grimmauld Place. Some of the order members would pop in, he gathered, but otherwise, it would be him and Kreacher. Oh, joy.

"Harry, it's going to be okay. It's just a little while, right? And we'll all be owling you, right Ron?"

"Oh, of course! You know I'll be bored out of my mind at Aunt Muriel's. You aren't missing anything. And I'm sure you're not thrilled with staying here, but at least it's better than the Dursley's."

Hermione slapped Ron's arm at that making him wince. Harry gave them both a smile to fight back their worries. Together, the three friends snuggled into the couch and listened as Hermione talked about her vacation in France and Ron flipped back through Quidditch Weekly again to inspect the new broom that Nimbus was releasing to beat the Firebolt. Harry mostly stayed quiet and tried to enjoy the time with his friends.

He figured he should try to soak in these moments of peace while he could. Who knew what the future held for the boy that only just now knew his own past. After all, Ron was right. It was better than the Dursley's.

ooooooooo

A/N: That's it! I'm working on the sequel now and hope to be starting posting it soon. It will start soon after this one ends and probably cover his sixth year. Safe to say...healing and getting over his childhood trauma while fighting a war probably won't be smooth sailing for poor Harry...

Feel free to leave me comments, let me know what you think, and offer suggestions on what to include in the sequel!