Lucius looked at the old, wizened face in front of him.

"Dumbledore…" he whispered.

The head nodded. "Lucius?" His entire face was asking the prize question - Why on earth was Lucius Malfoy fire-calling Albus Dumbledore at eleven at night?

He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I have Harry Potter in this room right now. I will offer him to you, on one condition." He may be defecting from the Dark Lord, but he was still a Slytherin at heart.

Dumbledore looked shocked. He then recomposed himself. "What do you wish for?" he asked.

Lucius curled his fingers on the ground. "Shelter," he said. "Protection from the Dark Lord. For myself and my family." It made his pride hurt to ask him for something like that.

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in the embers. "That can be arranged."

Lucius wasn't surprised that it was that easy to deal with the old headmaster. He did have the Boy Who Lived in his custody, after all.

"I desire to make the transaction tonight, if that is possible." He hadn't planned any of this out - even Draco didn't know about Lucius' half-cooked, spontaneous escape plan, much less Narcissa. As far as she knew, he was still firm in the Dark Lord's service. She was obviously disapproving of his loyalty. She had never vocalized her dissension, but it was evident in the way she sent him a vaguely displeased look every time he was summoned.

He intended to change that, and soon.

Dumbledore was speaking again. "It is possible. What condition is he in at the moment?" he asked.

Lucius grimaced in a rare display of emotion. "He is not in good health at the time being. He has lost a lot of blood in the past few days. He might not survive abrupt travel like apparition."

He saw a faint glimmer of alarm in the headmaster's eyes. "Could you floo him over?"

Lucius considered that possibility. "Yes… it has considerably less compression than apparition… he could, perhaps, make that journey."

"Good," Dumbledore murmured.

"How will I get my family to safety?" Lucius asked. He still needed clarification on that point. If he openly defied the Dark Lord, he would be as helpless as a sitting duck against his forces.

Dumbledore looked at him very gravely. "You need to awaken your wife and son. I'm afraid that if you are going to give him back tonight, you need to leave as soon as possible. I will give you the password for my office once you are ready. But-" he said as Lucius was about to leave. "If you are planning a trick, I will make you regret it." The old man looked at him, and he knew that he meant it. He truly looked like the man that had defeated Grindelwald.

Lucius acted immediately. He said that he would do what he had told him, and he stood up. He speed-walked (because Malfoys never ran anywhere) toward Draco's bedroom.

Once he got there, he hesitated at the door. Should he go through with this? he second- guessed himself. Then he sighed. Even if I backed out, at this point, it's too late.

He opened the door. His son's deep breathing greeted him. At least it seemed like Draco hadn't heard anything through the silencing charms he had set around the dining room.

He edged into the room silently. He placed his hands upon Draco's shoulders and shook them slightly.

Draco gasped, eyes snapping open. His eyes focused on his father, and the cloudy glaze that had covered them cleared. "Father?" he groaned, sitting up.

Lucius took in Draco's condition. He looked pale in the moonlight streaming from the window on the far side of the room, the rings under his eyes prominent in the soft lighting. "Come," he commanded. "Once you have gotten your most prized possessions, meet me in the living room with your mother."

Draco looked frightened for a second. Then he nodded, jumping out of bed and heading toward his dresser to pack.

Lucius, satisfied, left the room. He made his way across the house to his and Narcissa's bedroom. He pushed the door, tiptoeing into the room. If any of his political rivals had seen him at that point, they'd be laughing their behinds off.

The room was a rich green, a testament to their Slytherin heritage. There was a huge bed in the middle of the back wall, and dressers and closets lined the room. It was hard to believe that he'd be leaving behind all of this in a few minutes' time.

"Narcissa," Lucius whispered.

The lady woke up almost instantly. She had always been a light sleeper, waking up every time he had come back from a Death Eater meeting.

She sat up, eyeing her husband. "What is it, Lucius?" Yes, Narcissa was always a bet testy when she woke up.

Lucius sat on the bed. "Narcissa, I have decided that our lives need to change."

Her eyebrows rose at that statement. "What ever does that mean?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "Recent events have led me to believe that following the Dark Lord… might not be the best idea."

Narcissa looked stunned. Then, she started laughing. Outright, guffawing laughs shook her whole frame. This was so unlike her that all Lucius could do was sit and stare.

She finally got control of herself a few moments later. "You… you want me to believe that -" she broke down into laughter again. Then, she muttered, "Yes, and the Devil will be ice skating, too!"

Lucius frowned, snapping out of his shock-induced stupor. "I'm serious. I have contacted Albus Dumbledore, and he has promised sanctuary from the Dark Lord. I have Ha - Potter in the lounge as we speak."

Narcissa calmed down suddenly. "You aren't joking, are you?" she said wondrously.

Lucius gave her a droll stare. "When have I ever joked?" he asked. She opened her mouth, no doubt preparing a witty comment to throw back at him, but Lucius cut her off. "We need to gather our valuables. We're leaving tonight."

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Narcissa nodded. "I was always hoping for the day you would finally come to your senses," she said smartly. She stood up, walking over to her closet. She pulled out a cloak that would preserve her modesty, and she pocketed her ornate black wand.

A few minutes later, she said that she was done. They had both cast shrinking charms over all of the things they were bringing. Lucius nodded, and they walked out of the door.

"Does Draco know?" Narcissa asked as they walked into the living room. The young man in question was sitting on the couch, looking very tense. "Ah, well, it looks like my question was answered."

Draco jumped, twisting around. "Mother!" he exclaimed quietly. He put his hand over his heart. "You scared me!"

Meanwhile, Lucius was staring at the spot, next to Draco, where he had lain Harry earlier. If Draco had known exactly who he was sitting next to…

He seemed to have read his mind. "Where's Potter?" he asked, looking around.

Lucius wondered how to break the news to him. "Erm, well… you seem to be sitting right next to him," he said with a chuckle.

Draco jumped violently for the second time that night. "He's right there? Where is he?" he yelped, whipping his head from side to side.

Lucius sighed. "Potter is under a disillusionment charm at the moment. He… is not in the best of states, at the moment. You would not want to see him."

Draco looked indignant. "But they didn't torture him tonight! He couldn't be any worse than he was last night!"

Lucius stared at his son, a blank look on his face. "Have you ever… studied the implications of a silencing charm?" he asked in monotone that even Severus could envy.

His face blanched in realization. "Oh," he said quietly. However, his eyes were the first to harden. "But, I still want to see him," he said firmly.

Lucius grasped for any straws he still had in his possession. "I doubt your mother wants to see -" he started.

"No, I would quite like to see," Narcissa interjected.

He felt like he was flailing around. He really didn't want to cause any nightmares, but since they insisted, he pointed his wand at the depression in the sofa, saying, "Finite incantatem."

The illusion seemed to melt off of Harry. The sight presented to them was quite disturbing. His neck was bent back almost at an unnatural position, not to mention the rivulets of dried blood all the way down his body. Even with his cooling charms, Harry's legs still looked raw. His right hand and forearm were still bleeding, stripped to the muscle, and to the bone in some places. His left hand twitched, bringing all eyes to the stump where his pinkie used to be. His foot wasn't visible, and it looked like his whole face was made of blood.

Lucius looked back up to his wife and son. Narcissa was holding both hands to her mouth, tears glimmering in her eyes. She could hardly stand to see someone get a parchment cut, much less this. Draco looked shocked and nauseated.

"He needs help, right now," he whispered. Lucius fully agreed.

"Yes. I need to fire-call Dumbledore again." He grabbed some more floo powder, his fingers scraping the bottom of the bowl. I need to get some more - he started to think. Then, he remembered that he wouldn't be returning to the Manor for a long time - if everything went as expected.

He stuck his head inside the now green fire. "Dumbledore's office," he said into the flames. It felt like only his head was moving. He closed his eyes against the migraine-worthy flashing green lights.

Seconds later, he had arrived, and he pulled his head out. The headmaster had obviously been patiently waiting on the other side all the time that the Malfoys had been packing.

"Are you ready to send Harry through?" he asked.

"Are you ready to receive him?" Lucius shot back.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. When he is over, and as soon as I say so, call out, "Dumbledore's office, cauldron cakes."

Lucius stood back and raised his wand to levitate Harry. Then he stopped, realising that if he sent the young man in like that, he would probably be hurt even worse.

He resolved what he was going to do in his head. It might disgust Draco to do so, but it had to be done.

"Draco," Lucius said. He looked up to face his father. "I need you to go on to the other side with Potter. You did hear the password, right?" he asked.

Draco nodded. He wasn't as upset as Lucius thought he'd be. Perhaps he was growing up.

Lucius cast a feather-light charm on Harry, hoping that it wouldn't worsen his wounds. It didn't, thankfully, and he motioned for Draco to pick him up.

Draco gingerly gathered him into his arms, trying to ignore the fact that he was getting blood all over his clothes. He walked toward the fireplace, grabbed some of the rapidly depleting floo powder, and stepped in the hearth.

He threw it down, shouting, "Dumbledore's office, cauldron cakes!"

His son went up in a flurry of green flames.

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Albus was doing his best to refrain from pacing around his office. Poppy was on call, standing in the middle of the room, facing the fireplace. It had been a few minutes since Lucius Malfoy had contacted him, and there was no sign of Harry. Severus hadn't come back from his meeting yet, and he was starting to get worried about both of his surrogate sons.

Suddenly, green fire sprang up in the fireplace. Poppy jumped, and Albus rushed forward. What he saw made him stop.

Draco Malfoy seemed to be shielding something from impact as he awkwardly got ejected onto the rug in front of the hearth. The boy sat up quickly, and Albus recognized the 'something' as a 'someone.'

Harry.

He was in bad, bad condition. Albus didn't get a good look at his injuries, but it seemed like he was more bleeding than not. Poppy gasped and immediately took Harry from Draco. She ran out of the office, presumably to go to the infirmary.

Albus then took note of the person that had came through with Harry. Draco was still sitting on the rug, looking a bit shell-shocked.

"Are you okay, my boy?" he asked.

Draco jumped. He seemed to come back to reality, just a bit. "I'm fine, sir," he replied. He stood up, and noticed the copious amount of blood on his white shirt and trousers. He grimaced, and Albus used his extremely advanced occlumency skills to tell what he was thinking.

- do hope he's okay, Albus heard. He guessed that to be the youngest Malfoy to be thinking about Harry. Albus always did think the best about people, after all.

More viridescent fire sprang up from the fireplace. Albus watched as a disheveled -looking Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stepped out of the hearth. It was an interesting sight, seeing the always impeccable Malfoys in this state.

Narcissa immediately went forward to embrace her son. She murmured something in his ear, and he nodded. "I'm okay, mother," he said.

That seemed to be enough verification for her, and she let go of him. She frowned at the blood staining both of their shirts, and turned to face Albus. "Where is Harry?" she asked sharply.

Albus was surprised at the usage of Harry's first name, but he didn't show it on his face. "He is being tended to in the infirmary, at the moment."

"May we see him?" Lucius asked, in a rare bout of genuine politeness. Where were the actual Malfoys, and who were these people? He couldn't help but wonder if this were some elaborate plot to attack the Order at its heart.

Albus chose to give them the benefit of the doubt. "Of course. Follow me," he answered. He walked out of his office, hearing the entire Malfoy family follow after him. They silently walked down the stairs. Albus's hand was on his wand the entire time. He may be willing to trust them to a certain extent, but even he had limits.

Not a word had been exchanged between the four people going to the infirmary. Eventually, they approached the doors for the hospital wing. Albus opened one of the doors for the Malfoys, and they passed him, into the room in single file.

One part of the room was curtained off, and he guessed that was where Harry was being tended to. They all sped toward the screen.

Suddenly, Severus emerged from the blinds. Every Malfoy then proceeded to draw their wands and point it at him. Albus saw his left hand twitch towards his wand, but he seemed to regain control of the limb.

"Dumbledore," Lucius muttered by the side of his mouth. "Severus isn't what he seems."

Albus sent a discreet, questioning look at the potions professor. He gave an almost imperceptible nod, and Albus wondered how he would break the news to the Malfoys. If Severus thought it was okay to tell them about his 'second profession,' so did he.

Albus took a deep breath. "I know that he is the Dark Lord's potions master. I know that he is trusted in the inner circle."

He watched as realisation dawned in Lucius' eyes. "He never was loyal… was he?" he said, faintly. Narcissa and Draco lowered their wands in utter shock.

Albus closed his eyes. "It is not my place to inform you of that."

Lucius digressed. "Very well. Now, may we see Potter?" he said, rather testily.

"Yes, I am quite intrigued." What type of damage have I inflicted on poor Harry? he thought to himself.

Severus nodded and pulled back the curtains.

What Albus saw made him mentally kick himself where it hurts. "Oh, Harry," he couldn't help but groan.

All of the blood had been vanished away from his skin, and he had been changed into hospital garb, but that didn't help his appearance any. He had angry red lines - no. There were sick swirly designs all over the boy's face. Both of his legs were entirely bandaged, and one hand and an entire arm had been wrapped up in gauze. He was even more gaunt and pale than when he had come to Hogwarts from the Dursleys'. There was a huge bandage over his scar. He had obviously lost his glasses, because they were nowhere to be seen.

Albus sat down heavily on a chair next to the bed. Severus' outraged words rang in his ears again. "You take Harry in for one day, and he gets captured the next?! Imbecil!" He had never known words to be so true. His own arrogance and feelings of invincibility had caused this.

He put his head in his hands. He hadn't felt so defeated in a while. He breathed out, and Poppy bustled into the room, papers in hand.

"I have his medical report," she announced, still looking at the papers. "And, to be honest, this is even worse than some of Severus'-" she broke off when she noticed the Malfoys standing next to the bed.

Albus raised his head out of his hands. "They know, Poppy," he sighed. His face plopped right back onto his palms.

She seemed to be a bit taken aback. "Well, then. If any of you want to look at his medical report, here it is." She set them down on the wheeled nightstand next to the bed. She then rushed off, seeming to have other important things to do.

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Albus garnered enough energy to look at the report. One of his many failures. His fingers shook as he picked up the parchment.

His eyes scanned the paper, his vision growing blurrier with tears every second. Long-term malnourishment. Severe bruises on back, legs, and torso. Minor lacerations on back, legs, and torso. Minor infection on back, legs, and torso. Minor cruciatus-induced nerve damage. Deep lacerations on face. Third degree burn on the forehead. Amputated right pinkie toe. Amputated left pinkie finger. Skin entirely removed on right hand and forearm. Third degree burns on both legs. Severely damaged vocal chords. That list didn't even count the mental damage Harry had suffered.

Albus let the report drop from his fingers as he cried for the first time in five years.

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Severus was startled when he realized that the headmaster was sobbing. In all honesty, he had never seen him break down like that. He wondered what he should do. Draco had picked up the report from the floor under Dumbledore, and was now reading it, with almost the same reaction as the older man.

Then, he had another epiphany. The snake! She had been in a constant state of worry for the last two days, and she would probably bite him if she knew Harry was in the building, and he didn't tell her.

"I will be back," he said. He speed-walked from the room, but after he shut the door, he broke out into a run. He reached the dungeons in a matter of minutes, and he was slightly huffing. Despite appearances, he was actually quite in shape.

He got to the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. "Colubrid," he gasped.

"My, my, what's got you in such a rush? Say, where's that boy, Harry?" Slytherin asked as he swung outward.

Severus didn't give an answer as he swept into his quarters. He quickly glanced around, still breathing heavily. He located Nagini on the couch, and wondered how he should address her. He didn't speak parseltongue, like the Dark Lord, or Harry.

He chose to touch the huge snake on her back, and she raised her head to look at Severus. "Er…" he started. Then, he waved his arm back awkwardly and said, "Follow me."

Somehow, Nagini understood him and followed him out of the room. Severus tried not to stare at the mesmerizing movements of her tail as she slithered alongside him. It was so similar to Harry's occlumency shields.

Soon, they got back to the hospital wing. He briefly watched Draco and Narcissa, who had tear tracks down their faces. Albus and Lucius were nowhere to be seen.

Nagini hissed violently from where she was at Severus's side. He involuntary jumped, thanks to many years of experience as a Death Eater.

The serpent slid faster than he had ever seen her go. She startled all of the Malfoys when they heard her, and their wands came out again.

"Wait!" Severus said, holding out a hand. "She is on our side."

Draco gestured wildly. "Are there any other converted… beings we should know about?" he asked, sounding a bit frazzled.

Severus thought for a millisecond. "No, not that I know of."

Poppy came back into the room. She stopped when she saw the huge snake coiled around Harry. Severus half expected to shoo Nagini away, but her survival instinct probably won out.

She cast another diagnostic charm over Harry. She seemed satisfied with what she saw, and she turned to face Severus. "The knife that had cut his face was cursed with a somewhat ancient curse…" she paused. This was unlike her.

"What?" Severus prompted.

This seemed to bolster her. "The knife will not allow me to heal the wounds completely, and he will be left with scars."

Severus blinked. He turned around slowly and breathed out. "You and I know that he won't react well to new marks, Poppy."

The mediwitch nodded solemnly. Then, she got a curious gleam in her eyes. "It seems as if you have finally realised that Harry isn't as much like his father as he seems."

Severus decided that it wouldn't be efficient to argue. He remained silent as he looked back at the young man with his snake on the hospital bed. It was true that he was starting to know Harry rather than Potter.

He remembered the events that had led him to this situation. After Lucius had rushed off to fetch the rest of his family, Severus had ran outside into the night. He had apparated away to Hogwarts, speeding through the front gates. By the time he had gotten to the infirmary, he had seen Poppy rush in with Harry. Yes, that was how long it took for him to arrive at the hospital wing. Hogwarts was a large school.

He had immediately aided the mediwitch in helping the young man, but when the Malfoys came in looking concerned, he had been momentarily stunned. He hadn't believed that they had been actually worried about Harry's health until then. Severus had thought that they were just holding the wizard for ransom.

Severus came back to the present. Poppy was checking Harry's vitals, making sure they were still steady. It had taken some of their best efforts to make sure he didn't die during the night.

Severus gazed at Harry's freshly scarred face. Against all odds, in the last day, he had become to care for the young man.

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Harry was dreaming. He was on the quidditch pitch, looking for something. What was he looking for? Oh, yeah. Quidditch. He was looking for the snitch. Funny thing was, he was the only person on said quidditch pitch. The sky was overcast, and every color seemed strangely muted. Thunder rolled across the sky, echoing around the large pitch. Harry's hair blew around his head as the wind picked up, and he suddenly flew up. Keep in mind that he was dreaming, and he had no idea why he was doing something - he just did it.

He swept downwards, mimicking something he performed in first year. He raced toward the ground, until the last second - he pulled himself up, executing a move most professional quidditch players had trouble doing.

As he looped around, it felt as if something was coiling around him. It felt so… familiar. Comforting. Then, he felt an inexplicable rush of energy coarse through his veins.

Gasping, his eyes snapped open from the dream.

Everything seemed like one huge blur of color. He tried to sit up, but it seemed like something was restraining him. He tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a painful croak.

Then, the past few days' memories came rushing back to Harry. Was he still in Malfoy Manor? If he was… he didn't know that he could hold out for much longer.

His vision suddenly cleared as someone put his glasses over his nose. Harry blinked, taking in where on earth he was. He was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts, with Madam Pomfrey's head hovering over Harry's line of view.

Harry cleared his throat, and attempted to speak again. Still, nothing. The only results he got were a sore throat and a stern-looking mediwitch.

"Now, Mr. Potter, it won't do you any good to try to speak. You did quite a number on your throat." Harry's eyes widened. Were his vocal cords permanently damaged? Did he really… scream… that loudly?

Pomfrey then started to reach toward Harry's right hand, seemingly oblivious to his worries. He instinctively flinched back, irrational fear filling his brain. He was back in Malfoy Manor, Voldemort leering down at him… Uncle Vernon was holding a belt above his head… It seemed like he had been bound only to stop him from sitting up, not from moving.

When he realised that no one was going to touch him, and that he was still at Hogwarts, his eyes cracked open. Pomfrey was looking very concerned, and Harry mouthed, "Sorry."

The mediwitch immediately looked remorseful. "Oh, my dear, it isn't your fault. You've been through a very traumatic experience - I shouldn't have touched you without a warning." Harry didn't like what she was implying. It sounded like she thought he had finally lost it. He was still very sane, thank you very much.

He risked a glance down. Sure enough, he looked like a half-mummy. He also had a certain snake coiled completely around his body.

Ah.

So that was why he couldn't sit up.

He breathed deeply, relishing the state of non-pain he was in. Harry had no doubt it was only temporary, but he would enjoy it while it lasted.

The movement that he had made while flinching had awoken the serpent. She blinked and raised her head to Harry's. "Oh, hatchling. What hasssss happened to you?"

Harry sighed, ignoring the pain in his throat. "I think you know already, Nagini." Harry then was pleasantly surprised. Speaking in parseltongue didn't hurt! He glanced up at Pomfrey. She looked shocked. "What?" he mouthed.

She seemed to regain some of her professionalism. "It's nothing, Mr. Potter. It just seems like some rumours can be true."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that. Then, he groaned in pain. His forehead hurt.

Pomfrey looked exasperated. "Don't do that, Mr. Potter. You'll injure yourself further."

He then remembered what had led him to being captured in the first place. "The battle," he mouthed dramatically.

The mediwitch thankfully understood him. "We did win the battle. However, the Dursleys were all… they all passed away."

Harry was floored. "What?" he repeated, gobsmacked. The Dursleys couldn't be dead! They had been pretty much the only constant in his life ever since Voldemort had killed his parents!

Then, she seemed to remember something. "Oh. But, your cousin, Dudley, did survive. In fact, he's here right now."

Harry was bewildered. Here? Now? How was he able to even see the castle in the first place!?

Pomfrey moved away, shuffling through a potions cabinet. "Now… where did I put… Ah-ha!" She pulled out a neon yellow bottle. Harry squinted, wrinkling his nose. He settled for closing his eyes when that motion made his face twinge. Why was his face still injured? Couldn't they have healed him already?

"Army-Leader, why are you upsssset?" Nagini asked, laying her head back down on Harry's chest.

Harry relayed the information he had been given to the serpent. She didn't seem surprised.

"Thisssss issss all old newssss to me."

Harry looked surprised, and then he asked, "How did you know?"

"I ssssaw everything firssssthand, remember?" she reminded him.

He nodded. Pomfrey returned with the bottle, which was now a greenish color, since she added some unknown ingredients into it.

"Lift your head up," she said. Harry did as she told, and she spread the substance over his throat. "This won't heal your vocal cords immediately, but if you apply this daily, it should help the process."

Harry nodded. "What time is it?" he mouthed.

Madam Pomfrey must've had some experience with mouth-reading, since she looked down at her pocket watch. "It is 12:36 in the afternoon," she answered. She slid it back into her robe pocket as she said, "You have been unconscious for about a day."

Harry then lifted his hand to touch his face. "Do you want a mirror?" He nodded.

She accioed one from across the room. Pomfrey hesitated while giving it to him. Harry wondered, Are my injuries that bad? as he took it from her hands. She went away, giving him some space.

He stared at his reflection in horror. Sure enough, he looked bad. And even that was an understatement. He rose his fingers again to touch his face, and he noticed how his left pinkie was suspiciously missing. He swallowed as bile rose up in his throat. No need to lose it now. They don't look too horrendous, Harry, a voice in his head whispered. Bellatrix isn't that bad of an artist, as messed up as that sounds.

Harry took a deep breath. It wasn't as if he was expecting anything different. He lowered the mirror, seeing Nagini looking at him, concerned. "I'm okay, Nagini," Harry said.

She nodded. "I musssst asssssk," she began.

"What isss it?"

"Who did this to your face?" she asked, almost timidly.

Harry scowled, though not at Nagini. "Female-Warrior did that." Bellatrix's name was strange in parseltongue.

The serpent hissed angrily. "I'm not sssssurprised. What did she ussse?" Harry averted his eyes. "Pleassse, Army-Leader, I would not assssk if it were not important."

He sighed in defeat. "I know. It'sssss jusssst a bit difficult to talk about." She nodded in understanding. "She ussssed a knife."

"Did she not conjure it?" Nagini questioned. Harry shook his head, and the snake looked alarmed. "Wassss it on a rack of torture itemssss?" He nodded. Nagini hissed lowly.

"What'ssss wrong?" Harry asked, worried.

"If thissss wasss truly the knife she usssed on you, then thosssse woundssss cannot be healed magically."

Harry was confused. "How isss thissss a problem?" he asked, not fully getting it.

Nagini looked exasperated. How such a range of emotions was possible in a snake, Harry might never know. "I didn't want to be the one to exxxxplain thissss to you, but it ssseemss like I will." She lowered her head. "Army-Leader, that knife wassss ssssspecccially desssigned to sssscar."

Harry numbly lifted the mirror back up to his face. He touched the lines on his face with fingers that then felt strangely deadened. He traced them all the way to the corners of his eyes, wondering just how mentally ill someone had to be to inflict this sort of damage on a fellow human. If Lestrange even was human.

So, he'd have even more scars. Just a few more features that would set him apart from the rest of wizardkind. It seemed like fate liked to throw every bad thing she could think of at him. Harry could feel himself sinking into thoughts of depression.

Then, he felt Nagini nudge him. "Look at me." Harry did. "Thisss doesss not change who you are in your heart." She poked him fondly over the chest with the end of her tail. "I did not learn thissss lesssson early enough. Hate againsssst thosssse who have wronged me have turned me into a monsssster."

Harry blinked. "You're not a monsssster," he said.

The snake tilted her head. "Maybe not anymore. But rage drove me to do thingssss I would never have done before."

"Before what?"

She seemed to retreat. "That issss a sssstory for another time. Right now, you need to focussss on recovery."

Harry decided to let the subject drop. He set the mirror back down on the side table, using his other hand to stroke Nagini's back. He knew that those who were truly on his side wouldn't leave him because of some new injuries.

Suddenly, the door to the infirmary burst open. A dishevelled-looking, but extremely alive Remus Lupin stumbled in the room. He seemed to glance around, unsure of where he was.

Harry temporarily forgot that his voice was gone, and he tried to say, "Professor!" but it came out as more of a croak. He immediately regretted it, since his throat protested heavily.

Remus started, noticing Harry in the hospital bed. He rushed over, hands out in front of him like most adults did when confronting someone they thought was hurt.

The, he noticed Nagini. He stopped a few feet away from the bed, eyes trained on the snake.

Harry shook his hand, beckoning him closer. "He issss a friend," he explained to the serpent. He beckoned the man closer, and Remus smiled warily.

"Harry, it's nice to see you." Harry nodded, and he looked confused. "Can you not speak?" he asked. He shook his head.

"Are you ssssure he issss a friend, Army-Leader? He ssssmellssss like ssssomeone I know, Moor-Dweller," Nagini implored.

"Yesss. Trussst me." He didn't ask who this Moor-Dweller was. Harry looked back up at Remus. He didn't look too surprised at his ability to speak to snakes, but his eyes kept flicking around his face. Harry knew what he was going to ask next, feeling a sense of dread creeping down his spine.

"Harry… if you don't mind me asking… what happened?"