Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue. Have a nice day :)
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This is not an A/N! This is for everyone who can't remember what has happened so far because I
took so long to post! So you don't have to go back and read the chapters to remember, which I
know you don't want to do! Skip this if you do remember, cause then it's not important.
Harry went back to the Dursleys after fourth year and was severely beaten by Uncle Vernon.
Vernon, Petunia and Dudley burned his photo album and locked him in the cupboard. Harry had
lost his glasses and Hedwig took them to the Weasleys, who contacted Dumbledore. Dumbledore
contacted Arabella Figg, who is Harry's witch guardian. She went to the Dursleys and noticed they
had red rings around their pupils. She went to Dumbledore, who went to Sirius and explained that
they Dursleys were under the Temperament Curse, a curse developed by Voldemort to amplify
feelings. Harry cannot be healed until the curse is taken off of the Durselys, by the person who
cast it in the first place. Sirius, Remus and Arabella save Harry from the Dursleys and take him to
Hogwarts, where currently there are no teachers. Harry has a concussion. Remus leaves to get a
doctor and here we are. There, six chapters in a paragraph. Whew.
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Normal
Chapter Seven
"Dr. Rhymon? Dr. Rhymon are you here?" Remus called through the partially opened
door leading to Dr. Rhymon's clinic. Receiving no answer, he pushed the door open all the way
and slowly stepped inside, closing the worn door behind him.
Familiar surroundings greeted him as he entered. The shabby furniture and the dingy wooden
floor with it's primordial area rug brought back an odd sense of nostalgia. Just being there brought
memories of times he would have much rather forget, yet it also gave him a sense of relief, a
feeling that although you walked in this place at the worst of times, you always came out with a
clean slate. The musty, earthy smell of potions and medicines permeated the room. It felt to him
like the comforting smell of a treasured place, maybe a grandparent's house or favorite getaway,
where you knew everything was going to be alright. It was an unlikely haven that made Remus feel
like a child again.
He knew that a large part of that feeling came from Dr. Rhymon himself, whom Remus
had always considered almost as a grandfather and defiantly a mentor. In fact, Dr. Rhymon
reminded him of Dumbledore. A bit mad, a bit goofy, but all in all a wonderful, brilliant person.
He was ancient, possibly older than Dumbledore, but he moved with the vigor of a ninty year old.
Dr. Rhymon had been Remus's doctor since before he could remember. He lived in the
upstairs quarters of his small two room office, and as far as Remus was concerned, he had most
likely lived there for at least a hundred years.
Remus was jarred out of his memories when the door suddenly swung open so forcefully
that it rebounded back and closed again. It began opening again, slower this time, and in walked a
heavy man about Remus's height, with a head full of thick yet short grey hair, and small bifocals
resting precariously on the end of his round nose.
He walked straight past Remus, not acknowledging his presence. Remus heard a few
mumblings about doors as the other set a few bags down on the counter.
"Dr. Rhymon?" Remus said carefully, not wanting to startle him.
The aged doctor swung around so quickly that his glasses did what they had been threatening to
do and fell off his nose.
"Who's there?" he questioned. He was blind without his glasses. "I don't have any patients
today!" Fumbling back to the counter he picked something up and swung it around in front of
himself like a wand. "I'm warning you! I'm armed!" Remus wasn't too worried about his threat
considering Dr. Rhymon was holding a carrot.
"Dr. Rhymon! It's me! Remus! Remember?"
"Remember who? Speak up, boy!"
"REMUS LUPIN!" He shouted. "You know. . . full moons . . . grrr . . .um, you know,
you're only werewolf patient?"
"Don't tell me to be patient! Who are you and what are you doing in my office?"
Instead of trying to answer again, Remus instead picked the doctor's glasses up off the
ground and plopped them back onto the wrinkled face. He waved a hand in front of the doctors
eyes. His face immediately broke into a large smile.
"Remus, my boy! Why didn't you say it was you? I could have cursed you!" He exclaimed,
putting the carrot into the front of his robes. "Sorry about the less than welcome greeting. You
know how things are these days."
"Hi, Dr. Rhymon."
"Bye? Where are you going? You just got here?"
"Never mind." He yelled quickly. "I think you need to fix your hearing, again. Charm's
wearing off." Dr. Rhymon had horrid hearing problems and would be completely deaf if he didn't
fix his hearing magically. He guessed decades of working with screaming babies would do that to
you. Every so often the charm would wear off and he would need to fix it, but being who he was,
he would often forget.
"Just a minute, son. I can't hear you. I think the charm is wearing off." He plucked the
carrot back from inside his robes, pointed it at his head and said "Auditio!" Nothing happened.
He shook the carrot in frustration, and noticing for the first time what it was, threw it onto the
counter and picked up his wand. "Auditio." This time, mustard yellow sparks shot from the end of
the wand and into his ears. He gave a little laugh. "Tingles," he explained.
When the charm had done it's work, Dr. Rhymon seemed to realize that Remus was
probably there for a reason. "So, what brings you here? Not the full moon already, is it?"
"No, Dr. Rhymon. Actually. . ."
"Remus," he interrupted. "You're not a child anymore. Far from it, I'd say. How many
times have I told you to call me Kern?"
"Sorry, I'm just not used to it Dr. Rhymon."
"Kern. It's my name. I suggest you use it."
"Right, er. . .Kern. I guess I'll get right down to it. Have you ever heard of the
Temperament Curse?"
The old man frowned and took off his glasses pinching the bridge of his nose and squinting
his eyes shut. After several seconds he answered. "One of the worst curses I can remember that
found it's way across my path. I never had many patients who were inflicted with the curse itself,
but rather, their victims. . ." He trailed off, not wanting to finish. "But that curse hasn't been used
in years, you know."
Remus sighed. "I'm afraid we have another case. It was placed on some muggles. And not just
any muggles. They know of our world and despise it. I'm sure you can guess the outcome of
the curse. Especially on a wizard minor who was in their care."
"Who was it?"
"Harry Potter." Kern visibly deflated after he heard that, his shoulders sagging and head
bowing. Remus continued. "He is currently at Hogwarts, in quite a state. We - that is Sirius,
Arabella and I - need you to come. Madame Pomfrey isn't there. We need a doctor who can help
him."
Another thing Remus liked about Dr. Rhy- ("no, Kern!") was that he was so
understanding. He knew all about Sirius as well. During a very bad night last year,
Remus had stumbled in during the early morning hours. Kern had been up and waiting for
him, as he always was after a full moon. Battered and bruised, and quite delirious, Remus had told
him all about his friend and their situation. Surprisingly, he had believed every word Remus said
without question, saying he never believed that the kid he used to know could grow up to be a
murderer.
"Just lead the way. Let me get my bag." He grabbed an old-fashioned black leather
doctor's bag from a cupboard, and followed Remus out the door. "I remember when Harry was
born. Cute kid. Didn't cry, much. And how excited James and Lily were. I remember James as
well. Fine fellow, he was, I miss him. Lily, of course, was a wonderful girl. Very pretty, and
spunky. Those two, when they brought Harry in to me for check ups . . . they were amazing
parents. Loved that kid more than any other parents I remember. They had such bright futures. . ."
Remus thought for a moment how Kern was able to remember individual people who
hadn't been to see him in fourteen years and yet he couldn't remember where he had lived for
over a hundred. He didn't have time to dwell on the thought, as they reached the fireplace, and
one after the other, flooed to Hogwarts.
* * *
When the two men entered the hospital wing, they found Harry wide awake and staring at
his arm, which was being wiped with a damp cloth by Sirius. Arabella was standing off to the
side. As soon as she saw them, a vivid look of relief washed over her face.
"I assume you are Dr. Rhymon?"
They shook hands. "Yes. But call me Kern. And this," He said, turning to Harry who was
watching him curiously. "Must be Harry. Can you tell me how you are feeling, Harry?" He moved
to the other side of Harry's bed. Harry just shrugged his shoulders and looked away.
As he began examining his patient, Arabella explained what they had done so far. "We are
almost positive he has a concussion. He has a nasty wound on the back of his head. He's got a
broken wrist, burns and several other bruises and lacerations all over. He keeps coughing up blood.
He looks rather ill to me, also."
Kern rummaged through his black bag, which was no larger than a woman's purse, although
his arm went in almost up to the elbow. They heard some clinking and clinking of glass on glass as
he murmured to himself. He finally pulled out a strange looking metal instrument, which they all
knew and recognized from their many visits to wizard doctors. Harry, on the other hand was
looking at the object warily.
"Don't worry, son. It's just a thermometer. It's different than the ones you're used to, I
know, but It still does the same thing. But it will also tell me what your illness is, and how to treat
it. It's a standard procedure." He smiled warmly at Harry. "Now open your mouth and let me stick
this under your tongue." Harry waited a few moments and finally did what he was asked.
While the thermometer made many odd and whirring and buzzing noises, Kern set out to
set Harry's wrist. "Oh, this isn't so bad. Just a hairline fracture, nothing to worry yourself about.
It'll heal just fine." He didn't add that he was thinking *when* it heals, which at this point in time,
no one knew. He pulled his wand out of his robes and set it over the break, and mumbled a few
words. A white splint appeared, wrapping around Harry's wrist and up over his thumb. He also
checked the back of Harry's head, and shined bright lights in Harry's eyes, confirming that he had a
rather serious concussion.
He put another silvery object to Harry's chest, listening to his breathing. He told them
Harry had a great deal of fluid in his lungs. He confirmed a broken rib and a very small tear in his
left lung.
Just then, the thermometer made several beeping noises. "Ah, it's finished." He took it out
of Harry's mouth and examined the results. "My, a temperature of 102 degrees. It seems you have
the flu, Harry. Not bad, luckily." He spoke to the adults in the room "We can cure it with a simple
potion."
"But I thought he couldn't be cured until the spell was off." Sirius questioned.
"We can't cure his injuries, but we can cure the illness. That wasn't brought on by the
spell, and even if he got it from one of his family who was under the curse, it wouldn't matter.
They cannot force a virus onto someone, it happens naturally."
"Oh, ok."
Kern began another search through his bag, this time nearly sticking his entire head
through the opening. They heard a few breaks and clatters and something that sounded like a dying
cat made them all shudder and cover their ears. He finally came up, with a large, empty vial in
tow.
"It seems I am all out of fever reducer for the moment. I could have sworn I just made a
new batch the other day." The adults all gave each other looks.
"Does Madame Pomfrey have any fever reducer in her stores?" Sirius asked Arabella.
"No, I looked around when I looked for the pepper-upper potion. That and some skele-
grow were all that were there. They are the only ones that are non-perishable."
Remus spoke up. "I remember talking to her before I taught here. It was a few weeks
before term was going to begin. She always gets rid of potions at the end of the school year, then
she and Snape make them fresh at the beginning of each year."
"Well, I suppose I could go to my office and make some more, but I really don't know
how long that will take. I don't have any of the ingredients on hand. It's very dangerous for Harry
to have a fever and a concussion. His lungs are also under a great deal of pressure. If he's sick and
gets the urge to cough, he might make the tear worse than it already is."
"Well," said Arabella. "Do any of you have any fever reducer just lying around?"
"Left them in my other robes." Said Sirius off-handedly.
Remus didn't answer for a long moment. "I don't have any either. But you know who does
always just happens to have almost every potion possible lying around?" He asked as if he already
knew the answer.
Sirius looked up at him sharply. "No . . ."
"There's no other choice, Padfoot."
Sirius clenched his jaw. "I said no."
"Sirius, I understand why you don't want his help. But every once in awhile you have to
put aside your petty, childish ignorance, and I think that this is the opportune time." Sirius gave
him a hard glare. "Come on, Padfoot. For Harry. You know, your godson, who is currently very
ill?"
Arabella watched the exchange like it was a tennis match, becoming more and more
confused with every word. "Would you two mind telling us who you are talking about, or do we
have to guess?"
"Our resident potions master . . ." Remus began.
"Our resident slimy git, more like it . . ."
"Severus Snape."
* * *
Snape had been enjoying a relaxing drink by the fire, doing nothing but dozing and
occasionally stirring his drink around, listening to the clink of ice on the glass. It wasn't often that
he got to just sit and do nothing, and soon, a roaring from the fire would prove now not to be one
of those moments.
He grumbled as he remembered the conversation he had with the floating head of Arabella
Figg in his fireplace. He jumped so high when she appeared that he spilled his drink all over
himself, cursing and immediately putting a drying spell on his robes.
She explained the situation to him and he reluctantly agreed, knowing he had to keep up
his cover and help the boy. But he never had any intention of being nice about it.
He gathered up his fever reducing potion and left for Hogwarts through the fire.
* * *
Snape entered the Hospital Wing with a sour look on his face, his hair hanging in his eyes.
Remus expected no more and no less from their rival, although he was surprised when he saw the
potions master look at Harry, who currently had Kern fussing over him. He seemed unfazed by
seeing his battered student lying in the bed. Almost like he already knew how bad the injuries
were. Reams was in the room with Arabella when she talked to Snape, and while she explained
what was going on and why they needed the potion, they hadn't told him how injured Harry was.
In fact, he seemed to watch Kern more than he watched Harry, squinting his eyes at the kind old
man.
He recovered after a moment, and saying nothing, held out the potion to Kern, who took it
and began trying to force it down Harry's throat. Harry was giving it a disgusted look, as if he had
just had a dead fish forced under his nose. Eventually, though, he drank it all down. Within
minutes, his skin regained some color, and he seemed to be a bit more alert, although his eyes were
still dull and sagging.
"I see that I am no longer of use here." Said Snape in an oddly tight voice. "I will be going
now." Remus and Arabella nodded to him, but no one watched as he left the room, and no one
noticed his grimace as he gripped his arm, directly over the dark mark, as it burned on his skin.
* * *
None of them knew how long they were in the hospital wing. It could have been an hour or
several, and they wouldn't know.
Arabella was growing increasingly worried about Harry, who's head was drooping.
Remus was worried about Harry and Kern. Harry for the obvious reasons, and Kern, who
was looking rather peaked himself. Stress did not mix well with that man, who hated to see
anyone, especially children in pain.
Sirius, seeing that Harry was being looked after, was giving his thoughts over to who had
cast the curse, and how he was going to catch them. That and how he was going to torture the
curser until they would want to Avada Kedavra themselves.
Kern decided that Harry was stable enough to sleep. As soon as he told Harry he could
sleep, his body sank back into the bed, his head pushed into the pillows, and he was asleep within
seconds. Kern turned to the others.
"We have a very unique young man on our hands. He hasn't complained once. It's
amazing, the amount of pain he is in and he doesn't even cringe."
Sirius gave a small smile. "That's Harry. He's not really one to complain. I think he
understands that there is nothing we can do right now, and complaining won't help the situation."
They looked at the sleeping figure on the bed for several long minutes. Finally, Kern began
gathering his things back into his bag.
"I think Harry is stable, for now. I am going to go back to my office and prepare some
potions, and make sure we are prepared for when the curse is off. Poor kid has some dreadful
potions to take when the time comes."
They all in turn shook Kern's hand and thanked him for coming on such short notice. He
told them not to hesitate to call him again if they had any problems. He left, and Sirius, Remus and
Arabella were left to watch Harry, and think about how on earth they were going to find the
person who had cursed Harry's family.
* * *
The red eyes burned into his skin. He shuddered beneath the intense glare, feeling as if
every part of himself were laid bare to the Dark Lord's scrutiny.
"You have done your work?"
He refused to let his master see his insecurity. He wanted power, and cowering before the
Dark Lord was not the way to get it. "Yes, my Lord."
"And they trust you?"
"Yes. They trust me. They even had me give him a potion. They trusted me with his
heath."
"A potion? What kind of potion?"
"Just a fever reducer. A fever is nothing compared to the other injuries the boy has."
"So the curse is working well, I see."
"There was never any doubt it would work, my lord. The magic is strong, and . . ."
"Do not suck up. I detest you ambitious types. I asked you a simple question, and I expect
a simple answer. You have been in my service a long time now. You should know."
"Yes, My Lord."
"Good. Now tell me. How is the boy doing?"
"He does not look well, my lord. But he has been brought outside help, other than his
godfather and Dumbledore, and those who we knew would help him."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, my lord. But there is nothing he can do, either. He has no knowledge of who set the
curse."
"Good. Now leave. The next time I hear from you, you will be telling me news of
importance. Nothing trivial. I have enough to worry about."
He bent down and bowed before his master, and kissed the hem of his robes, before
backing out of the chamber, black robes billowing behind him as he gripped the Dark Mark that
still burned on his arm.
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A/N: Whew! That took a lot out of me. Thank you all for being patient and for allowing me to
believe that anyone was actually anticipating the next chapter of my story. I know it hasn't moved
very far yet, and that this chapter was not very exciting. It might be long, but you notice not much
happens. I describe a little too much. Sorry if this chapter has more mistakes than usual. Usually I
print it out and go over it with my trusty green pen, but my printer is broken. I can only get what I
catch reading it over on the computer, and for some reason, I catch more mistakes when it's on
paper than when it's on the screen.
Hey, I created an original charachter (nice old guy, ain't he? Reminds me of a man who I go to
church with) and I can honestly say he is NOT a Mary-Sue! Hee hee.
You have heard every excuse in the book from me about why I take so long to update, and here's
one I haven't used yet: I just didn't feel like writing. I got all writed out. I am currently working on
a novel outside of ff.net that I hope I can publish someday, and I decided to devote my time to
that, and I would write for hours and hours on end. One night I started writing at seven pm and
when I finally stopped it was eight o'clock in the morning. I didn't even notice it getting light out.
It was crazy. So, I got a little tired of writing and decided I should continue with my life for awhile,
writing free.
The main reason this chapter is out now is because of Lily of the Valley, a very talented writer
who is so sweet and nice, inspired me to get writing again. Y'all (hee hee, Lily) have her to thank.
She really gave me a boost from my slump. Thanks for the millionth time, Lily, and I'm eagerly
anticipating the next chapter to "Shattered Reality."
To everyone who prayed or sent well wishes to my friend: thank you all so much. All of your well
wishes really helped. She has just left rehabilitation, and is doing well, although she still has trouble
walking. She had some brain damage, but it was not as serious as they initially thought. She has
trouble with memory, mostly. They had to write a sign and put it on her wall that said "You are
here because you were in a car accident" because she kept forgetting. When she had visitors, she
would talk and laugh with them, and then an hour later, she wouldn't even remember they were
ever there. She met with a psychologist, who was the person who told her that the accident was
her fault and she killed people, and he said everything went right over her head. She will be lucky
if she can go back to school halfway through our senior year (this coming year) if she even can
return at all. She is, however, doing 100% better than she was when I first told you about the
accident, so thank you so much. I cannot express how much your prayers have helped her and me
during these past few months.
ttfn,
~Avidia~
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This is not an A/N! This is for everyone who can't remember what has happened so far because I
took so long to post! So you don't have to go back and read the chapters to remember, which I
know you don't want to do! Skip this if you do remember, cause then it's not important.
Harry went back to the Dursleys after fourth year and was severely beaten by Uncle Vernon.
Vernon, Petunia and Dudley burned his photo album and locked him in the cupboard. Harry had
lost his glasses and Hedwig took them to the Weasleys, who contacted Dumbledore. Dumbledore
contacted Arabella Figg, who is Harry's witch guardian. She went to the Dursleys and noticed they
had red rings around their pupils. She went to Dumbledore, who went to Sirius and explained that
they Dursleys were under the Temperament Curse, a curse developed by Voldemort to amplify
feelings. Harry cannot be healed until the curse is taken off of the Durselys, by the person who
cast it in the first place. Sirius, Remus and Arabella save Harry from the Dursleys and take him to
Hogwarts, where currently there are no teachers. Harry has a concussion. Remus leaves to get a
doctor and here we are. There, six chapters in a paragraph. Whew.
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Normal
Chapter Seven
"Dr. Rhymon? Dr. Rhymon are you here?" Remus called through the partially opened
door leading to Dr. Rhymon's clinic. Receiving no answer, he pushed the door open all the way
and slowly stepped inside, closing the worn door behind him.
Familiar surroundings greeted him as he entered. The shabby furniture and the dingy wooden
floor with it's primordial area rug brought back an odd sense of nostalgia. Just being there brought
memories of times he would have much rather forget, yet it also gave him a sense of relief, a
feeling that although you walked in this place at the worst of times, you always came out with a
clean slate. The musty, earthy smell of potions and medicines permeated the room. It felt to him
like the comforting smell of a treasured place, maybe a grandparent's house or favorite getaway,
where you knew everything was going to be alright. It was an unlikely haven that made Remus feel
like a child again.
He knew that a large part of that feeling came from Dr. Rhymon himself, whom Remus
had always considered almost as a grandfather and defiantly a mentor. In fact, Dr. Rhymon
reminded him of Dumbledore. A bit mad, a bit goofy, but all in all a wonderful, brilliant person.
He was ancient, possibly older than Dumbledore, but he moved with the vigor of a ninty year old.
Dr. Rhymon had been Remus's doctor since before he could remember. He lived in the
upstairs quarters of his small two room office, and as far as Remus was concerned, he had most
likely lived there for at least a hundred years.
Remus was jarred out of his memories when the door suddenly swung open so forcefully
that it rebounded back and closed again. It began opening again, slower this time, and in walked a
heavy man about Remus's height, with a head full of thick yet short grey hair, and small bifocals
resting precariously on the end of his round nose.
He walked straight past Remus, not acknowledging his presence. Remus heard a few
mumblings about doors as the other set a few bags down on the counter.
"Dr. Rhymon?" Remus said carefully, not wanting to startle him.
The aged doctor swung around so quickly that his glasses did what they had been threatening to
do and fell off his nose.
"Who's there?" he questioned. He was blind without his glasses. "I don't have any patients
today!" Fumbling back to the counter he picked something up and swung it around in front of
himself like a wand. "I'm warning you! I'm armed!" Remus wasn't too worried about his threat
considering Dr. Rhymon was holding a carrot.
"Dr. Rhymon! It's me! Remus! Remember?"
"Remember who? Speak up, boy!"
"REMUS LUPIN!" He shouted. "You know. . . full moons . . . grrr . . .um, you know,
you're only werewolf patient?"
"Don't tell me to be patient! Who are you and what are you doing in my office?"
Instead of trying to answer again, Remus instead picked the doctor's glasses up off the
ground and plopped them back onto the wrinkled face. He waved a hand in front of the doctors
eyes. His face immediately broke into a large smile.
"Remus, my boy! Why didn't you say it was you? I could have cursed you!" He exclaimed,
putting the carrot into the front of his robes. "Sorry about the less than welcome greeting. You
know how things are these days."
"Hi, Dr. Rhymon."
"Bye? Where are you going? You just got here?"
"Never mind." He yelled quickly. "I think you need to fix your hearing, again. Charm's
wearing off." Dr. Rhymon had horrid hearing problems and would be completely deaf if he didn't
fix his hearing magically. He guessed decades of working with screaming babies would do that to
you. Every so often the charm would wear off and he would need to fix it, but being who he was,
he would often forget.
"Just a minute, son. I can't hear you. I think the charm is wearing off." He plucked the
carrot back from inside his robes, pointed it at his head and said "Auditio!" Nothing happened.
He shook the carrot in frustration, and noticing for the first time what it was, threw it onto the
counter and picked up his wand. "Auditio." This time, mustard yellow sparks shot from the end of
the wand and into his ears. He gave a little laugh. "Tingles," he explained.
When the charm had done it's work, Dr. Rhymon seemed to realize that Remus was
probably there for a reason. "So, what brings you here? Not the full moon already, is it?"
"No, Dr. Rhymon. Actually. . ."
"Remus," he interrupted. "You're not a child anymore. Far from it, I'd say. How many
times have I told you to call me Kern?"
"Sorry, I'm just not used to it Dr. Rhymon."
"Kern. It's my name. I suggest you use it."
"Right, er. . .Kern. I guess I'll get right down to it. Have you ever heard of the
Temperament Curse?"
The old man frowned and took off his glasses pinching the bridge of his nose and squinting
his eyes shut. After several seconds he answered. "One of the worst curses I can remember that
found it's way across my path. I never had many patients who were inflicted with the curse itself,
but rather, their victims. . ." He trailed off, not wanting to finish. "But that curse hasn't been used
in years, you know."
Remus sighed. "I'm afraid we have another case. It was placed on some muggles. And not just
any muggles. They know of our world and despise it. I'm sure you can guess the outcome of
the curse. Especially on a wizard minor who was in their care."
"Who was it?"
"Harry Potter." Kern visibly deflated after he heard that, his shoulders sagging and head
bowing. Remus continued. "He is currently at Hogwarts, in quite a state. We - that is Sirius,
Arabella and I - need you to come. Madame Pomfrey isn't there. We need a doctor who can help
him."
Another thing Remus liked about Dr. Rhy- ("no, Kern!") was that he was so
understanding. He knew all about Sirius as well. During a very bad night last year,
Remus had stumbled in during the early morning hours. Kern had been up and waiting for
him, as he always was after a full moon. Battered and bruised, and quite delirious, Remus had told
him all about his friend and their situation. Surprisingly, he had believed every word Remus said
without question, saying he never believed that the kid he used to know could grow up to be a
murderer.
"Just lead the way. Let me get my bag." He grabbed an old-fashioned black leather
doctor's bag from a cupboard, and followed Remus out the door. "I remember when Harry was
born. Cute kid. Didn't cry, much. And how excited James and Lily were. I remember James as
well. Fine fellow, he was, I miss him. Lily, of course, was a wonderful girl. Very pretty, and
spunky. Those two, when they brought Harry in to me for check ups . . . they were amazing
parents. Loved that kid more than any other parents I remember. They had such bright futures. . ."
Remus thought for a moment how Kern was able to remember individual people who
hadn't been to see him in fourteen years and yet he couldn't remember where he had lived for
over a hundred. He didn't have time to dwell on the thought, as they reached the fireplace, and
one after the other, flooed to Hogwarts.
* * *
When the two men entered the hospital wing, they found Harry wide awake and staring at
his arm, which was being wiped with a damp cloth by Sirius. Arabella was standing off to the
side. As soon as she saw them, a vivid look of relief washed over her face.
"I assume you are Dr. Rhymon?"
They shook hands. "Yes. But call me Kern. And this," He said, turning to Harry who was
watching him curiously. "Must be Harry. Can you tell me how you are feeling, Harry?" He moved
to the other side of Harry's bed. Harry just shrugged his shoulders and looked away.
As he began examining his patient, Arabella explained what they had done so far. "We are
almost positive he has a concussion. He has a nasty wound on the back of his head. He's got a
broken wrist, burns and several other bruises and lacerations all over. He keeps coughing up blood.
He looks rather ill to me, also."
Kern rummaged through his black bag, which was no larger than a woman's purse, although
his arm went in almost up to the elbow. They heard some clinking and clinking of glass on glass as
he murmured to himself. He finally pulled out a strange looking metal instrument, which they all
knew and recognized from their many visits to wizard doctors. Harry, on the other hand was
looking at the object warily.
"Don't worry, son. It's just a thermometer. It's different than the ones you're used to, I
know, but It still does the same thing. But it will also tell me what your illness is, and how to treat
it. It's a standard procedure." He smiled warmly at Harry. "Now open your mouth and let me stick
this under your tongue." Harry waited a few moments and finally did what he was asked.
While the thermometer made many odd and whirring and buzzing noises, Kern set out to
set Harry's wrist. "Oh, this isn't so bad. Just a hairline fracture, nothing to worry yourself about.
It'll heal just fine." He didn't add that he was thinking *when* it heals, which at this point in time,
no one knew. He pulled his wand out of his robes and set it over the break, and mumbled a few
words. A white splint appeared, wrapping around Harry's wrist and up over his thumb. He also
checked the back of Harry's head, and shined bright lights in Harry's eyes, confirming that he had a
rather serious concussion.
He put another silvery object to Harry's chest, listening to his breathing. He told them
Harry had a great deal of fluid in his lungs. He confirmed a broken rib and a very small tear in his
left lung.
Just then, the thermometer made several beeping noises. "Ah, it's finished." He took it out
of Harry's mouth and examined the results. "My, a temperature of 102 degrees. It seems you have
the flu, Harry. Not bad, luckily." He spoke to the adults in the room "We can cure it with a simple
potion."
"But I thought he couldn't be cured until the spell was off." Sirius questioned.
"We can't cure his injuries, but we can cure the illness. That wasn't brought on by the
spell, and even if he got it from one of his family who was under the curse, it wouldn't matter.
They cannot force a virus onto someone, it happens naturally."
"Oh, ok."
Kern began another search through his bag, this time nearly sticking his entire head
through the opening. They heard a few breaks and clatters and something that sounded like a dying
cat made them all shudder and cover their ears. He finally came up, with a large, empty vial in
tow.
"It seems I am all out of fever reducer for the moment. I could have sworn I just made a
new batch the other day." The adults all gave each other looks.
"Does Madame Pomfrey have any fever reducer in her stores?" Sirius asked Arabella.
"No, I looked around when I looked for the pepper-upper potion. That and some skele-
grow were all that were there. They are the only ones that are non-perishable."
Remus spoke up. "I remember talking to her before I taught here. It was a few weeks
before term was going to begin. She always gets rid of potions at the end of the school year, then
she and Snape make them fresh at the beginning of each year."
"Well, I suppose I could go to my office and make some more, but I really don't know
how long that will take. I don't have any of the ingredients on hand. It's very dangerous for Harry
to have a fever and a concussion. His lungs are also under a great deal of pressure. If he's sick and
gets the urge to cough, he might make the tear worse than it already is."
"Well," said Arabella. "Do any of you have any fever reducer just lying around?"
"Left them in my other robes." Said Sirius off-handedly.
Remus didn't answer for a long moment. "I don't have any either. But you know who does
always just happens to have almost every potion possible lying around?" He asked as if he already
knew the answer.
Sirius looked up at him sharply. "No . . ."
"There's no other choice, Padfoot."
Sirius clenched his jaw. "I said no."
"Sirius, I understand why you don't want his help. But every once in awhile you have to
put aside your petty, childish ignorance, and I think that this is the opportune time." Sirius gave
him a hard glare. "Come on, Padfoot. For Harry. You know, your godson, who is currently very
ill?"
Arabella watched the exchange like it was a tennis match, becoming more and more
confused with every word. "Would you two mind telling us who you are talking about, or do we
have to guess?"
"Our resident potions master . . ." Remus began.
"Our resident slimy git, more like it . . ."
"Severus Snape."
* * *
Snape had been enjoying a relaxing drink by the fire, doing nothing but dozing and
occasionally stirring his drink around, listening to the clink of ice on the glass. It wasn't often that
he got to just sit and do nothing, and soon, a roaring from the fire would prove now not to be one
of those moments.
He grumbled as he remembered the conversation he had with the floating head of Arabella
Figg in his fireplace. He jumped so high when she appeared that he spilled his drink all over
himself, cursing and immediately putting a drying spell on his robes.
She explained the situation to him and he reluctantly agreed, knowing he had to keep up
his cover and help the boy. But he never had any intention of being nice about it.
He gathered up his fever reducing potion and left for Hogwarts through the fire.
* * *
Snape entered the Hospital Wing with a sour look on his face, his hair hanging in his eyes.
Remus expected no more and no less from their rival, although he was surprised when he saw the
potions master look at Harry, who currently had Kern fussing over him. He seemed unfazed by
seeing his battered student lying in the bed. Almost like he already knew how bad the injuries
were. Reams was in the room with Arabella when she talked to Snape, and while she explained
what was going on and why they needed the potion, they hadn't told him how injured Harry was.
In fact, he seemed to watch Kern more than he watched Harry, squinting his eyes at the kind old
man.
He recovered after a moment, and saying nothing, held out the potion to Kern, who took it
and began trying to force it down Harry's throat. Harry was giving it a disgusted look, as if he had
just had a dead fish forced under his nose. Eventually, though, he drank it all down. Within
minutes, his skin regained some color, and he seemed to be a bit more alert, although his eyes were
still dull and sagging.
"I see that I am no longer of use here." Said Snape in an oddly tight voice. "I will be going
now." Remus and Arabella nodded to him, but no one watched as he left the room, and no one
noticed his grimace as he gripped his arm, directly over the dark mark, as it burned on his skin.
* * *
None of them knew how long they were in the hospital wing. It could have been an hour or
several, and they wouldn't know.
Arabella was growing increasingly worried about Harry, who's head was drooping.
Remus was worried about Harry and Kern. Harry for the obvious reasons, and Kern, who
was looking rather peaked himself. Stress did not mix well with that man, who hated to see
anyone, especially children in pain.
Sirius, seeing that Harry was being looked after, was giving his thoughts over to who had
cast the curse, and how he was going to catch them. That and how he was going to torture the
curser until they would want to Avada Kedavra themselves.
Kern decided that Harry was stable enough to sleep. As soon as he told Harry he could
sleep, his body sank back into the bed, his head pushed into the pillows, and he was asleep within
seconds. Kern turned to the others.
"We have a very unique young man on our hands. He hasn't complained once. It's
amazing, the amount of pain he is in and he doesn't even cringe."
Sirius gave a small smile. "That's Harry. He's not really one to complain. I think he
understands that there is nothing we can do right now, and complaining won't help the situation."
They looked at the sleeping figure on the bed for several long minutes. Finally, Kern began
gathering his things back into his bag.
"I think Harry is stable, for now. I am going to go back to my office and prepare some
potions, and make sure we are prepared for when the curse is off. Poor kid has some dreadful
potions to take when the time comes."
They all in turn shook Kern's hand and thanked him for coming on such short notice. He
told them not to hesitate to call him again if they had any problems. He left, and Sirius, Remus and
Arabella were left to watch Harry, and think about how on earth they were going to find the
person who had cursed Harry's family.
* * *
The red eyes burned into his skin. He shuddered beneath the intense glare, feeling as if
every part of himself were laid bare to the Dark Lord's scrutiny.
"You have done your work?"
He refused to let his master see his insecurity. He wanted power, and cowering before the
Dark Lord was not the way to get it. "Yes, my Lord."
"And they trust you?"
"Yes. They trust me. They even had me give him a potion. They trusted me with his
heath."
"A potion? What kind of potion?"
"Just a fever reducer. A fever is nothing compared to the other injuries the boy has."
"So the curse is working well, I see."
"There was never any doubt it would work, my lord. The magic is strong, and . . ."
"Do not suck up. I detest you ambitious types. I asked you a simple question, and I expect
a simple answer. You have been in my service a long time now. You should know."
"Yes, My Lord."
"Good. Now tell me. How is the boy doing?"
"He does not look well, my lord. But he has been brought outside help, other than his
godfather and Dumbledore, and those who we knew would help him."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, my lord. But there is nothing he can do, either. He has no knowledge of who set the
curse."
"Good. Now leave. The next time I hear from you, you will be telling me news of
importance. Nothing trivial. I have enough to worry about."
He bent down and bowed before his master, and kissed the hem of his robes, before
backing out of the chamber, black robes billowing behind him as he gripped the Dark Mark that
still burned on his arm.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~
A/N: Whew! That took a lot out of me. Thank you all for being patient and for allowing me to
believe that anyone was actually anticipating the next chapter of my story. I know it hasn't moved
very far yet, and that this chapter was not very exciting. It might be long, but you notice not much
happens. I describe a little too much. Sorry if this chapter has more mistakes than usual. Usually I
print it out and go over it with my trusty green pen, but my printer is broken. I can only get what I
catch reading it over on the computer, and for some reason, I catch more mistakes when it's on
paper than when it's on the screen.
Hey, I created an original charachter (nice old guy, ain't he? Reminds me of a man who I go to
church with) and I can honestly say he is NOT a Mary-Sue! Hee hee.
You have heard every excuse in the book from me about why I take so long to update, and here's
one I haven't used yet: I just didn't feel like writing. I got all writed out. I am currently working on
a novel outside of ff.net that I hope I can publish someday, and I decided to devote my time to
that, and I would write for hours and hours on end. One night I started writing at seven pm and
when I finally stopped it was eight o'clock in the morning. I didn't even notice it getting light out.
It was crazy. So, I got a little tired of writing and decided I should continue with my life for awhile,
writing free.
The main reason this chapter is out now is because of Lily of the Valley, a very talented writer
who is so sweet and nice, inspired me to get writing again. Y'all (hee hee, Lily) have her to thank.
She really gave me a boost from my slump. Thanks for the millionth time, Lily, and I'm eagerly
anticipating the next chapter to "Shattered Reality."
To everyone who prayed or sent well wishes to my friend: thank you all so much. All of your well
wishes really helped. She has just left rehabilitation, and is doing well, although she still has trouble
walking. She had some brain damage, but it was not as serious as they initially thought. She has
trouble with memory, mostly. They had to write a sign and put it on her wall that said "You are
here because you were in a car accident" because she kept forgetting. When she had visitors, she
would talk and laugh with them, and then an hour later, she wouldn't even remember they were
ever there. She met with a psychologist, who was the person who told her that the accident was
her fault and she killed people, and he said everything went right over her head. She will be lucky
if she can go back to school halfway through our senior year (this coming year) if she even can
return at all. She is, however, doing 100% better than she was when I first told you about the
accident, so thank you so much. I cannot express how much your prayers have helped her and me
during these past few months.
ttfn,
~Avidia~