No matter what the headmaster said, Remus was not ready to see poor Harry. He had been informed right as the boy had been stabilized.
He had to steel himself before walking into the infirmary, but even that wasn't enough to prepare him for the sight of his cub looking so… injured. He had glanced around, looking for him, but it took Harry's little croak to alert him of his presence. He had hesitated at the sight of the huge snake, Nagini, curled up around Harry, but the boy had beckoned him closer.
Remus had just barely refrained from asking what had happened to Harry's face, but that restraint dissolved a few minutes into the conversation. He wasn't usually like this, but the stress of the past few days had gotten to him.
"... what happened?"
Harry's face seemed to shut down. Remus knew immediately that he had overstepped some invisible line with his question. He started to hyperventilate as he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. The grotesquely beautiful scarring around his face twisted. Remus felt frozen to the spot until Harry let out a pain-filled groan.
Shocked out of his stupor, he raced to the infirmary's office to fetch Madam Pomfrey.
The mediwitch jumped as the door banged open, and one of the portraits on the wall objected heavily at the sudden sound. "What is it?" she asked, looking concerned. She had already started to rise from her desk.
"Harry's started to have a panic attack of some sort," Remus explained as calmly as he could.
Poppy groaned, and she rushed out of her office. He followed her, and she was already by Harry's bed. She had his arm around his shoulder, and was whispering words in his ear that Remus couldn't quite catch. He had never seen the prickly lady so soft spoken.
As he came closer, he caught some of the things she was saying. "Breath for me, Harry. That's right. There's nothing to be afraid of, this is only temporary. If you'd like, we could go on a walk out on the grounds after your legs get better."
Slowly but surely, Harry's breathing leveled out and his eyes refocused on his bedsheets. He swallowed, then taking a deep breath.
My cub, what did they do to you?
Harry looked at his snake. She had uncoiled from around him, and was seeming worried. Well, as worried as a possibly evil snake could look.
The boy started hissing to it. Remus had no idea of what he was saying, but it seemed to soothe the agitated serpent. He saw as the scales around it relax. It twined around his body with a speed that was almost scary.
Harry took a deep breath and started waving his right hand slightly in the air. Poppy understood immediately and conjured a piece of parchment and a quill onto the bed.
"Self inking," she explained when Harry held up the quill, confused.
He nodded, and put the pen down on the paper.
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Ronald Weasley was confused.
Harry's owl had begged to be let free and his mom and dad had been seemingly stressed over the past few days.
Now, they refused to answer him when he asked what was wrong.
A few days ago, they had gone into the fireplace, speaking out something that sounded suspiciously like "Hogwarts."
Now, no matter what everyone thought, Ron wasn't as dumb as people made him out to be. In fact, he was often quite smart. He managed to get the details, but he sometimes couldn't put them together.
This was one of those times.
He knew there was something wrong with Harry, and no one was telling him anything. Harry was his best mate! Why wouldn't anyone inform him of what was going on?
Ron popped his back, stretching up from doing the dishes. Honestly! Why did Mum make him do this when she could finish this job magically without breaking a sweat?
Women were strange.
He attacked the pan he was working on with new vigor, as if the cooking utensil could tell him all the secrets of the universe. Or one secret in particular, he thought.
He didn't notice as his parents came back through the floo network. Therefore, he also didn't notice how they were looking at one another gravely.
He did notice when his father put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Ron, come to the living room. And, sit down on the couch."
Filled with a sense of dread and anticipation, he complied. Would they finally tell him what was going on? Or had he done something?
Mum looked at Dad, seemingly nervous. Dad cleared his throat, clasping his hands on his lap. They were sitting in two chairs across from him. This was looking more and more like he was in trouble for something!
"Ron," Mum started.
"We went to Hogwarts today," Dad finished, sighing. He rubbed his palms on his burgundy trousers. "And, we learned that Harry was injured."
Ron was stunned. "Injured? While he was at his aunt and uncle's house?"
For some reason, his parents cringed at that. "Well, he was captured by Death Eaters."
"What?!" Ron yelled, but his mum shushed him.
"We did get him back," his dad said quickly. "None of your siblings know, though. We thought it best that Harry should tell them what happened on his own terms, but you're his best friend. You'll be visiting him soon, perhaps tomorrow."
Ron was still stalled on the part where they said Harry had been captured by Death Eaters. "Death Eaters? Is he okay?" he rasped.
They looked at each other again. "For the most part," his dad said.
"For the most part? What does that mean?"
Mum winced, but it was barely visible. "He has some severe injuries that Madam Pomfrey wasn't able to heal all the way. It would be prudent of you to prepare yourself for Harry's… appearance."
Ron was aghast. "Is it really that bad?" he implored hoarsely, praying that this was some practical joke.
Dad's lips vanished as he nodded, looking away. Ron slumped down, thinking of the horrors that must've been inflicted upon poor Harry at God-only-knows where.
"Also, Hermione is coming over to spend the rest of the summer here," Mum added. At least there was some bit of good news.
"Oh, and Ron?" Dad said as he was about to leave the room. "Harry seems to have a new pet snake. Don't be alarmed when you see her."
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Ronald Weasley was very alarmed when he saw her. In fact, the ginormous snake draped all the way across Harry's bed was the very first thing he saw.
He heard someone chuckle, and Ron's eyes were drawn to the source.
Oh, Harry, he thought. This is worse than I expected.
Safe to say, a night's sleep (with an unhealthy dose of nightmares) hadn't done Harry Potter any favours. His face was extremely pale, making the still-angry marks on his face stand out even farther.
Little did he know, it got a whole lot worse. Harry waved at him, and Ron saw the bandage around his hand. As he got a closer look, he noticed there was a distinct something missing.
There was a conspicuous gap where his left pinkie finger was supposed to be.
Ron tried not to stare as he waved back. He hoped it was just bent down, but it wasn't like he was going to ask. No matter what everyone thought, he wasn't that tactless.
He sat down in the chair next to the bed. Harry picked up a quill and a piece of parchment that was already covered with words. He scribbled a few things down, and raised it to let Ron see.
Hey, it said. "Sorry about the surprise." Which one? Ron thought wryly. "It's nice to see someone my age."
Ron chuckled. "No kidding. Hey - I've heard from my dad that the only company you've had has been Remus, Madam Pomfrey, and Snape!"
Harry rolled his eyes. He started writing again. "He's really not all that bad once you get to know him."
Ron wrinkled his nose. "That greasy git?" Harry smiled. "There's no way he could be nice!"
Then, Harry's smile faltered. "Snape's actually saved my life quite a few times."
Oh. Well, then. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Then, he gestured to the humongous snake on his bed. "Now, who's this?"
Now, Harry really started to grin. He bit his tongue, writing one word down on his paper.
"Nagini"
Ron jumped back, falling from his chair. "Nagini? Harry, have you lost your mind?! Don't you remember what it did to my dad just last year?! It sent him to St. Mungo's!"
Harry nodded solemnly. "I do," he wrote. "But she's changed. She's no longer a mindless animal following Voldemort."
Ron was still doubtful. "All right, then. But don't come haunting me when she kills you in your sleep!" Harry rolled his eyes. Then, his brain caught up with recent events. "Why are you writing on paper?" he asked, warily sitting back down.
Harry pursed his lips. He absently scratched at one of the angry red marks on his face before bending back down over his paper.
"I can't talk," he wrote. "I have to wait for my voice to heal. If it ever does." Ron, concerned, took in a breath, about to ask another question. Harry raised a finger, silencing him. "Don't ask me what happened. Please."
Ron clicked his mouth closed, stunned. He must be serious about this. Well, Ron, why wouldn't he be?He was almost tortured to death by Death Eaters! a voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione's rang in his head.
Harry must've noticed his chagrined expression and mistook it as disappointment.
"If you want to know what happened so badly, then you can read it." He gestured to the writing above.
"No, no! I didn't mean that. I just was being boneheaded as usual," he said back. Ron grimaced. "I don't think I even want to know, to be honest."
Harry shook his head. "You don't. I had to recount all of it to Madam Pomfrey. Something about therapy, she said."
He tilted his head back. "Yeah… I remember one of my brothers saying something about how talking about a traumatic experience can defuse some of the emotions behind it."
Harry hefted his parchment. "Or in my case, writing."
"Is your hand sore?"
He gave him a look that said, What do you think?
"Point taken," Ron said, grimacing. At that, the doors to the infirmary burst open. They both whipped around to see the incomer.
Snape!
Ron jumped up from his chair, pointing his wand at the filthy Death Eater. "Get out of here, Snape!" he snarled.
The greasy haired man wrinkled his nose. "I think not," he replied coolly. "You'd best remember your place, Mr. Weasley. I am still one of your teachers."
Ron was about to shoot back a scathing remark, until he felt Harry tugging on his sleeve and the snake hissing. He looked down at the hastily scrawled words on his paper.
"Calm down! He was one of the ones that healed me!"
Ron took in Harry's earnest expression, and caved. He had almost forgotten Harry was in the room, due to his rage at their potions professor.
Wordlessly, Snape swept to one of the cabinets on the other side of the room. Ron breathed out slowly, sitting back down. He looked back at his friend on the hospital bed, and he noticed Harry was practically staring a hole into Snape's back.
"What's up with you?" he whispered, leaning in.
Harry shook his head, stroking the back of his snake's head. Ron picked up that he did that when he was in deep thought or nervous.
Ron wondered if Snape was there for the torture. He was going to ask, but he thought better of it. He ran a hand through his flaming red hair, continuing their conversation.
They ignored the potions master in the background.
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Thirty minutes later, Ron had left for the Burrow. Well, rather, Madam Pomfrey had shooed him away, telling him that her patient needed as much rest as he could get. Secretly, he agreed with her. He was getting a bit exhausted (Both of his presence and physically).
Sn- Severus had left the room about ten minutes before Ron had. He hadn't said a word other than the scathing remark he sent Ron's way. Harry wondered why. Had he offended the man? If anything, Harry should be the one avoiding Snape, after what had happened!
He… he still didn't want to think about that.
Keeping his thoughts preoccupied with memories of Quidditch, he drifted off.
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Severus thundered around his quarters, keeping his eyes off of the doorway leading to Harry's room. He typically preferred a more subtle way of walking, but he was preoccupied. He was busy making the strongest anti-scar potion he could possibly come up with.
He didn't want to know how much Harry must hate him. Not that he cared.
He… he still didn't want to think about that. (A.N. Sound familiar? It should.)
The muggle boy that had survived the attack was still in the hospital wing in a spell- induced coma. Let's just say he had been… inconsolable over the loss of both his parents in one fell swoop. He should wake up in a day's time. He didn't know if Harry had been informed of his cousin's whereabouts or not.
The hassle it was to get Harry's cousin inside the castle was enormous. It took some rather impressive wandwork from the headmaster to allow his body to be levitated inside Hogwarts. Severus wondered how hard it would have been to get the muggle into the school if he were conscious.
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Harry was bored out of his skull. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had both visited him, but they had treated him like they thought he was going to shatter at a touch or a word said wrong. Given, he had fallen apart when Remus had mentioned… what had happened, but he wasn't likely to put on a repeat performance.
Of course, he had Nagini to talk to, but it wasn't the same as a real human being. For some reason, it seemed like there was something she wasn't telling him. Whenever Harry tried to bring up her past, she always expertly changed the subject as soon as possible.
Harry stroked her head again, glancing at the curtained-off section of the infirmary. He pondered for a solid twenty minutes over who could be behind it. As far as he knew, he was the only student in the castle. Okay, it might have been only ten minutes, but he needed something, anything, to occupy himself.
He sighed, feeling as if he were wasting time. What could he possibly do to pass the time? His eyes fell upon the stack of parchment that was on his bedside table.
He reached out his hand to grasp it with his left hand. It was slightly more difficult to hold things with a missing finger, but he managed. He put the self-inking quill to the paper, and stalled.
Who was he kidding?
He didn't have any talent when it came to things like this.
He mentally shrugged (as to not disturb his sleeping snake), and started drawing marks on his page. He spent the next twenty or so minutes recreating an image of the Hungarian Horntail. He could remember that dragon as if he had fought it the day before. He had almost zoned out until he focused on his croccupied again.
What was on the parchment wasn't half bad, actually. He had drawn a rough sketch of the dragon crouched down, breathing a plume of fire at a small figure on a broomstick.
It wasn't that good, in his opinion, but he could improve. He set the parchment back down on his table.
He kept himself occupied for hours with his sketches. He drew Nagini, the Great Hall, Dudley, one of the merpeople in the lake, Dumbledore, and a plant on one of the windowsills of the infirmary.
Approximately three or four hours later, Madam Pomfrey came from her office for her required check on her patient. She spent a good five minutes fussing over his dressings and bandages, and monitoring the muscle recovery from the cruciatus curse.
When her eye caught the sketches he had set aside, her eyes widened fractionally. "Ah… Mr. Potter. Did you draw these?"
Almost timidly, Harry nodded.
"They look stunning. You should keep practicing with that quill of yours, and you'll find yourself as good at drawing as old Slytherin himself!"
Harry blinked. Salazar could draw?
"Actually, his specialty was painting, but still…" she trailed off as she rummaged around the shelves for more towels.
That was news for Harry.
Pomfrey looked up. "It's a paragraph in Hogwarts: a History, if you were wondering."
Big surprise there, Harry thought. Nagini's coils stretched as she woke from her slumber. Her tongue flicked out at Pomfrey as she walked over with a wet towel, and she hesitated for a split second before shaking her head and giving it to Harry.
"I have nothing against you drawing, but like I said earlier - try not to aggravate the new skin on your right arm," she said briskly. Harry nodded, and she seemed content with that.
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Poppy Pomfrey retreated back to her office. She honestly wasn't too convinced about that snake's loyalty to Harry. She had seen enough people succumb to Nagini's venom. But, if it made the poor boy happy, she would allow the serpent to remain in the infirmary.
With many observation charms.
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Draco Malfoy was lounging about in the empty Slytherin common room. He was sitting in a chair next to the great window to the lake, and trying to read. Unsuccessfully. Like everyone else that was currently in the castle, he had a lot on his mind.
He hadn't seen Potter since he had been brought to the school in critical condition. He would have gone up to see him, but he was uneasy about the reception he'd get. He didn't know if Potter was aware of who had saved him or not, and even if he did know, he was most likely to be rebuffed by the paragon of the Light. Dumbledore had given them protection from the Dark Lord, but if Harry Potter reacted vehemently against their presence in the castle, he didn't know what the headmaster's reaction would be.
Most likely negative.
It had taken ages in the shower to wash off all of the blood on his person. His outfit was a hopeless disaster, with all of the dried brown stains on it. Even his strongest cleaning charm wouldn't do much.
Even though it wasn't the school year yet, the Decree for Underage Magic couldn't detect him through the magical wards of the castle. It was the same for the Manor. His father had intentionally cast similar ones around their home so Draco could practice using magic at a young age. Most witches and wizards thought it was against the law. His father had specifically searched for rules against it, and there were none. Not that it being illegal would've stopped his father, mind.
He tossed the book back and forth between his hands. Potions and Their Ties to Dark Arts, it read. His godfather, Severus had lent it to him earlier. He had told him it might keep him occupied, but he was brooding anyways.
He sighed, and tried (in vain) to focus on his book.
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Severus was making his way up to the infirmary with vials of potions levitating behind him. It was mainly his job to restock potions wherever they were needed, along with his duties of head of house and potions professor.
He planned to ignore the young man again once he got upstairs. The past few days had been stressful enough without another person he had gotten to know rebuffing him over a mistake or something he couldn't help.
He slammed open the infirmary doors with practiced intimidation, and stalked over to the cabinets. He didn't once look at Harry.
Setting them down on the table next to the drawers, he was about to exit the room until a timid, hoarse, "Sir?" stopped him in his tracks.
So much for ignoring him.
"Yes, Potter?" Severus replied, not turning around.
"Can…" he cleared his throat painfully. "... can I talk to you?"
Severus inwardly groaned. Why, why must this young man torture him with his guilt? "Yes, Mr. Potter. But make it quick, I have things to do." He really didn't, he just wanted to get away as fast as possible. Call him a coward, but he didn't want to have another Lily moment, even if he had only truly known Harry for a few days.
He went over to stand by Harry's bed, meeting his gaze. Severus searched hard, but… he didn't find anything accusatory in his eyes. Although, that might be because of his surprisingly adept occlumency shield. Suddenly, it became hard to meet his eyes. Even if his gaze wasn't accusing him, his horrific scars were.
You did this. You were my responsibility. You've failed, yet again. You caused me so much pain.
Harry seemed to get right to the point. "Why have you been avoiding me lately?" he wrote.
Severus snapped out of his reverie. "I have not been avoiding…" his words fell flat even to his own ears. He finally looked away, not wanting to see the hurt in Harry's eyes.
"Out of all the people I've trusted, you're the one that's been the most distant."
That got a rise out of Severus. "You shouldn't have trusted me in the first place!" He ignored Nagini rising out of her slumber and hissing menacingly. "I am a horrible, terrible person! Look what I did to you! That is what happens to some poor person almost every time we're called! I had never deserved your trust. I should never have deceived you."
He glanced up at Harry's face, expecting to see disgust. Instead, he saw shock. He bent down and scribbled something rapidly down onto his paper. "Deceived me? Out of all the people that I have trusted, that I still do trust, you are one of the people who have never lied to me. Even the Weasleys have tried to keep certain things from me. I won't even get started on Dumbledore." Severus snorted. "You've always spoken your mind about me, and I get that some of it was just an act. But, still."
That written tirade took up about half the page. Severus clenched his jaw. How on earth could Harry still look him in the eye after what he had done to him? He had sheared the skin right off of his entire right arm!
Harry's raised eyebrow clearly said, Well?
To be honest, Severus didn't know what to say, for once in his life. He simply set the page down on the table, and spoke his mind. "I am… glad that you still deem me worthy of your confidence, but I may be forced to do something like this again." He gestured vaguely towards… his entire body.
Harry nodded in understanding. He grabbed the paper off of the desk and started writing again. "I'm curious. How did I get out of that hellhole? Did you save me?"
Severus almost cringed at the questions. He wasn't sure what his reaction would be if he told him. The young man noticed his hesitation and twirled his wrist as if to say, Go on.
He cleared his throat. "Believe it or not… allies saved you from Malfoy Manor. I was going to get you myself, when I saw these people save you themselves."
"Who were these people? Aurors?"
"No." Severus couldn't remember the last time he felt this fearful about telling a student something. "Aurors didn't save you. These saviours were, quite frankly, the very least likely people to save you." He cleared his throat, preparing to deliver the news. "The Malfoys were the ones who incorporated the rescue."
His reaction was instantaneous. His jaw dropped and his eyebrows drew in. "What?" his hoarse voice cried. His snake reared up, hissing to see if Harry was okay.
"Potter! Don't talk!" Severus said, holding his hands out. "You'll hurt yourself."
After a few seconds of soothing hisses towards Nagini, Harry's overwhelming shock turned into disbelief. "I'm not sure I believe that," he wrote.
"Believe it or not, it's still true," Severus replied.
"And what happened to calling me Harry?"
"I wasn't sure you still wished me to call you by your first name after… the incident." For some unknown reason, he felt strangely reassured that he still wanted to have that between them.
Harry gave him an incredulous look. "You're the person that saved me from the Dursleys. I know that you had to keep up your act as the ever-loyal servant for your job as a spy. You're one of the bravest people I know. It's amazing how one's viewpoint towards someone can change completely - in not even a day."
Severus thought the same. "Are you always this open to the people you know?" He asks, a slight smile gracing his face.
"Only people who have been with me through life-or-death experiences."
"A lot of people, then?" he retorted.
"Ha, ha. Do you know if there's any way to make this writing thing easier on me? It's making my hand hurt. Especially since, you know, all of the skin was removed from it and is in the process of regrowing."
Severus furrowed his brow, thinking. He tried to temporarily distance himself from the fact that he himself had inflicted some of these terrible injuries upon Harry. "If I'm not mistaken, I do know the charm for something similar to the quick-quote-quills that actually does transcribe what you say, and not some over-inflated hogwash that some people call eloquence."
Harry shook with silent chuckles and gave the quill to Severus. He set it down on the desk and started to mutter Latin and wave his wand over it. As he was adding the final touches, he noticed the multiple pieces of parchment on the surface he was working on. There were drawings on the pieces of paper that weren't half bad, he noted.
"Your cousin is over there in the curtained off section of the library," he added. He ignored the pensive look that crossed Harry's face. "He's expected to wake soon."
He presented the quill to Harry and explained how it worked. "All you have to do to activate it is to touch it. It will recognize your magical signature, thus setting it in motion. To erase what you have thought onto the page, think "delete" plus whatever you want to erase. If you want to actually use the word delete in whatever you are writing, think "word delete."
He must not have explained it well enough, because Harry's brow furrowed. "It works the same way as occlumency. You wanted to put your shields up, so you put the image of your snake at the forefront of your mind. You do the same for this quill, only with words."
Harry picked up the quill dubiously. Immediately, it sprang to attention, making him flinch backwards minutely. Severus pretended not to notice.
The first few words it wrote were, "Wow, this works!"
Severus raised an eyebrow. "I was unaware there was any doubt in the matter."
Harry grinned sheepishly.
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Dudley Dursley's eyes cracked open. He gave a groan as he sat himself up, the bed creaking as it complained about his weight. He seemed to be in a hospital of sorts, but everything seemed… different. There was a curtain obscuring his view right in front of him, but beside him were old looking bottles with unknown substances in them.
Where… What…
Oh.
Oh, yeah.
Dudley suddenly remembered everything that had happened before his memory went dark. Attack. Death.
For some reason, he didn't feel as panicked as he should have been. He felt almost… sluggish.
In the background, he heard someone talking. It was a low, baritone that seemed to be talking to himself. Dudley was very curious, but he just couldn't scrounge up the willpower to actually move.
Then, the curtains flew back, revealing a haggard looking woman. She was dressed in what looked like very heavy white sheets. Dudley squinted, thinking. Where had he seen this clothing before? His eyes widened in recognition.
Robes! She was wearing robes!
His suspicions were confirmed when she pulled out a stick similar to Harry's wand.
"You're a wizard!" Dudley said.
The lady's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "I am a witch, dear. You may call me Madam Pomfrey." She started to wave her wand over him, and he fidgeted uncomfortably, flushing with embarrassment.
There was motion behind this 'Madam Pomfrey.' A figure in black robes turned around to look at him. He was a scary man, with a large nose and long black hair. The first thought that popped into Dudley's mind was, Vampire! He didn't voice this thought, however. He had embarrassed himself enough today.
Past the man was a boy that looked about a year younger than him with a heavily scarred face… black hair… snake.
Harry!
Oh, heavens. He looked terrible! What had happened to him?
He was hardly aware that his jaw was open, until the dark man said in a smooth voice, "Is your brain capable of scrounging up a comment, or are we going to be waiting here for an eternity?"
Dudley's jaw worked, shock slowly turning into fear of this great bat-man. Like the hero Batman in the comics, but one unafraid to kill.
Harry shifted, and Dudley saw a feather that was levitating above a piece of paper, and it started to move! He didn't know why he was so amazed, though, because he obviously was in a different world than he was used to.
The severe man looked over at the paper, and what he saw made him scowl. Well, scowl even further. "You and I both know the torture this boy put you through," he murmered, clearly thinking that Dudley couldn't hear. He didn't notice, however, the slight wince of both of them at his choice of words.
"Severus, be quiet. You can intimidate the boy later, after I get his scan ready, with another calming draught," Pomfrey said.
Surprisingly, the man's features relaxed. "Yes, of course. After all, he will be staying with me." He chuckled darkly at Dudley's expression of slight panic.
"Really?" He choked out.
The man - Severus - laughed again. "Yes, but worry not. I am not so… intimidating… when you get to know me."
The feather on the paper moved again. The man looked at it again, and huffed. "Well, that day has come." Dudley had no idea what had just transpired, but it made Harry smile.
"Erm, Harry?" he finally said, scrounging up what little courage he had. Harry's eyebrows rose. "What-"
"Don't ask what happened!" Severus barked.
Dudley blinked. "Why not?" he risked.
The man's glare became icy. Dudley backed up close to the headboard as the man advanced menacingly, despite Pomfrey's protests.
"Do you," the man growled, "want to send Harry into another relapse of a panic attack?"
"Panic attack?" Dudley mouthed, eyes flicking over to where Harry was waving heavily bandaged arms across his chest in a futile attempt to stop Severus from speaking.
"Yes," he said, tilting his head to the side. "And if you know what's best for you, you won't mention anything about what transpired a few days prior."
Dudley nodded rapidly. In the background he saw Harry's head in a hand. He wondered if it hurt him on his bandaged forehead to rest his upper body weight on it.
Madam Pomfrey finally managed to shoo Severus away from his bedside, making him stand by Harry and the snake.
"Here you go, dear," she said, handing him a vial of… something. "It's another calming draught. It won't taste good, but you need it for now." Dudley wanted to ask why, but frankly, he was terrified of what this woman could do to him if she were provoked. He downed it in one go, wrinkling his nose and nearly gagging at the taste.
"Uhg, that's… it really doesn't taste good," he repeated after the mediwitch.
She snorted, and walked away to look at Harry. She was murmuring something to him and Severus, and Harry was nodding almost continuously nodding. Dudley felt a rushing sense of calm, and he felt as if the world could end and he wouldn't care.
He laid back on his covers, and the mediwitch glanced over her shoulder at him. "Ah, that should be the draught kicking in. Curious."
Dudley's eyes closed, falling into a deep sleep.
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Poppy Pomfrey closed the door to her office, thinking. She hadn't thought the draught would work on the muggle boy. According to almost every medical and potions text ever written, potions weren't supposed to be effective on non-magical folk.
Unless…
Unless the boy was more magical than anyone ever suspected.
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Harry waved goodbye to Severus as he exited the infirmary. He chuckled silently as he remembered the man's reassurances to Dudley. He had written that he'd never thought he'd see the day where the 'Great Bat of the Dungeons' would be consoling anyone, let alone a Muggle. Oh, how times change.
He sighed as he lay back on the bed, Nagini watching him. "I wassss wondering..." she began, but she broke off. The snake looked away, as if embarrassed.
"Wondering what?" Harry asked, intrigued.
"Well, remember when I told you that I didn't understand how your 'ssssspellssss' worked?" she asked, looking slightly sheepish. Harry nodded. "I wassss wondering if you could tell me what ssssome of those 'sssspellsss' meant. I can never undersssstand them, and I am a notoriousssly curious ssssnake."
Harry raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged. Why not? He had nothing better to do, other than perhaps working on his drawing skills. He reached over to his side table and plucked up his wand.
"Thisss isssss the sssspell that makes a Sssspirit-Guardian." He paused as he digested the parseltongue word for "patronus." He thought about his happiest memory, and he hissed, "Expecto patronum!"
The next few moments were so chaotic he couldn't tell what was going on.
Suddenly, there was a huge, almost blinding flash of light that consumed the whole room. Harry threw his hands up over his closed eyes, but the burn of the blue luminescence still attacked his pupils.
During the moment where Harry had pitched his arms over his face, he had dropped his wand in pure shock. After a few seconds of the terribly dazzling lights, Harry sensed that the worst of the impact had abated. He dropped his hands from his eyes, still squinting.
His jaw dropped.
If he had thought previously that his stag patronus looked spectacular, that was nothing compared to the being standing in front of him that very instant.
At the foot of his bed stood a huge, larger than life stag. From what it looked like, the creature shouldn't have even been able to carry its antlers on its head, they were so big and intricate. Its eyes looked strangely… intelligent. Wisps of bluish white vapor were streaming off of it in bright, intoxicating waves. The creature was so brilliant, it looked like it was nighttime outside.
Nagini stirred in his lap, getting over the initial shock of seeing a gleaming, humongous stag leap out of a wand. "Issss thissss what happensssss every time a Ssssspirit-Guardian issss ssssummoned?" she asked feebly.
Harry shook his head faintly. "No… no it issssn't."
As if on cue, the door to Madam Pomfrey's office swung open. The mediwitch rushed out, hesitating only a split second when she saw the impressive creature standing in the middle of the room. She rushed over, sidestepping the glaringly bright stag.
"Mr. Potter!" she said, confounded. "What in Merlin's name happened?"
Harry shrugged. "That's what I'm trying to figure out," he rasped. He touched his throat. Woah! His voice didn't hurt nearly as badly as it did even that morning!
She was too stunned to reprimand him for using his voice. "I was just-" he broke off, coughing.
"I was just explaining what a patronus charm was to Nagini, and then this happened!" He gestured wildly to the stag, who was passively blinking at him. "I don't even have my wand in my hand anymore!" At the end of this tirade, he doubled over, hacking coughs wracking his frame.
The patronus elegantly toed its way closer to Harry, and dipped its nose into his collarbone. Immediately, his throat felt as good as new, as if he hadn't gone through two days of torture. The stag pulled back, looking at him… almost expectantly.
Harry, as if in a trance, nodded at this figure and lifted his wand. He swished it from side to side, and it seemed to dismiss the creature.
"Potter, if I may ask, what was that?"
