Chapter Three
Introductions
A few minutes later after the headmaster had gone, I heard the sound of a quiet voice calling for me from the bath. Potter, of course. I rubbed my face with both hands and left my seat by the fire. How would he feel when he learned that he was staying here for the rest of the summer? I could not imagine that he would be very keen on the idea.
Opening the door slightly, I asked, "Can I come in?"
"Yes." Potter replied.
He was sitting in the tub with his knees drawn up. I reached for a towel on the rack near the door, but then I noticed something. The water in the tub had a slightly pink cast to it. Blood, I thought almost instantly. I felt a definite chill at the very thought. I took the towel from the rack and handed to Harry, who had just taken the stopper out of the tub, letting the water drain out. I averted my eyes as he dried himself off.
"Do you have any injuries that might need looking after?" I asked him.
"My back, sir." he said quietly.
I turned around and walked back to the tub where he continued to sit, but with the towel wrapped neatly around his waist.
"Lean forward, lad." I instructed him.
The shallow gash, which ran from the small of his back to the bottom of his right shoulder blade, was long, jagged, and had not closed neatly. It looked as though it might be infected. I reached to touch it, but thought better of it. This was the source of the blood, and for that I felt mildly relieved. There are worse things than mere flesh wounds.
"Let me fetch something to put on that." I said to him, extracting a mute and perfunctory nod.
There was a bottle of wound-cleaning potion in the medical kit. It was nearly half empty from rather frequent use. I glanced at the warnings on the bottle and swore silently as I read, "Do not use of injuries that have begun to close or that may be infected." What was the use of the stuff then? Reading further I noticed that it recommended an antiseptic gel for older wounds, especially those that showed signs of infection. Further rummaging through the kit produced an unopened tube of the suggested substance with which I returned to the bath.
Harry was sitting exactly where and how I had left him. I dragged an old three-legged stool up the basin and sat down behind him, glancing over the instructions for the gel again.
"This might sting a bit." I warned him.
"All right." he said apathetically. The tiredness was back in his voice.
I squeezed a light blue and slightly granular substance from the tube and carefully spread it across the gash on Potter's back. If it caused him any discomfort, I couldn't tell. He was silent and unflinching.
The injury began to close immediately as the gel permeated the wound. I carefully rubbed a little bit more of the mixture into the deepest portion of the mark and felt him stiffen slightly. Suddenly I realized that he was scared. I could feel the wild, uncontrolled magic building up beneath his skin. I slowly removed my hands and held my breath as I waited for him to calm down.
"That should do, lad." I told him as his shoulders relaxed.
"Thank you, sir." he said, looking at me over his shoulder.
"You want to tell me how that happened?" I asked.
"I fell." he said quite simply. I blinked and shook my head in disbelief. Didn't he realize that I had seen the bruises? That I knew something was amiss. "My uncle pushed me, and I fell against the corner of my bed." he clarified.
"I see." I nodded.
He seemed reluctant to talk about any of it. I could hardly blame him. I wanted to know more, of course. I wanted to know what had motivated his uncle to hurt him and to deny him needed medical attention. Simple hatred of wizardry and magic? If that were the case, then Harry probably would have died or been maimed or something in their care years ago. I had suspicions, but I didn't think that Harry would want to confirm or deny them at that particular time.
I grabbed his clothes from the floor, took my wand from my sleeve, and whispered a quiet freshening spell over them to take away the smell of fear, pain, and sweat. I knew that I would need to find him something warmer to wear tomorrow, but that could wait.
I gave him the nightclothes and turned so that he could put them on. When he clambered from the bath tub, I reached out an arm to steady him. He was still quite weak, and I'm sure he knew it.
Potter looked down at the floor and mumbled a very quiet, "Thank you, sir."
"Let's get you back to bed now. And this 'sir' business. We might as well clear that up while we're at it. Alastor ... Moody. And if neither of those are to your liking, I hear that folks call me Mad-Eye." I said with a thin and twisted smile, the best one I could manage.
Potter looked at me for a moment and started to say something, but his knees suddenly buckled. I swept him up in my arms in surprise. He had fainted. I carried him into the main room of the cottage and carefully placed him on the bed. He opened his eyes slightly and started to murmur an apology.
I frowned sternly and said, "Warn a man when you're going to do that, would you, Potter?"
"Harry." he whispered.
"Very good, but either way, say something. Merlin, lad, I'm not going to give you a clout." I said, grabbing a folded blanket from a nearby shelf and draping it over Harry against the slight chill that lingered in the air.
"I ... I will." said Harry.
"Do you think you could eat anything?" I questioned, sitting down on the edge of the bed again.
"I'm afraid ... that I might not be able to hold it down." said Harry.
I considered that statement for a moment and asked, "Do you want to try?"
"Could I have more water instead?"
"Conjured or from the tap?" I asked. The flask was nearly empty. I always conjured water. It was an old habit from the during the war against Grindelwald, though I had only seen the last three years or so of it. "I never drink from the tap myself, so I feel badly asking you to do it, but I imagine that it's what you're accustomed to." I added, looking at the expression on Potter's face.
"If you drink conjured water, then that's what I'll have, if it isn't too much of a bother ..." he began to say.
"None at all, Harry." I said, summoning a glass from the kitchen and filling it for him after close examination. "Slowly." I cautioned as he began to gulp.
"Thanks." he said after draining the glass.
"Never you mind." I said, taking the empty glass from Harry's hand. "I need to give you a healing potion. It might help with the fever, but it will certainly help with the pain. Of course, it will put you right to sleep too." I said, reaching into the nearby medical kit and removing a bottle of healing potion. It was something I had added to the standard kit myself.
"All right." nodded Harry. "But will it be a dreamless sleep?" he asked hesitantly.
"I'm sorry, but, no, it will just be an ordinary one. I use a very strong healing potion, and the two draughts don't always mix so well." I explained, shaking the excess water from the glass and pouring a crystalline pink fluid into it.
As I watched Harry drink it without question, I couldn't bring myself to lecture on constant vigilance. Harry was trusting me out of necessity. I didn't want to undermine that trust with hash words.
"Um, Alastor, I heard you talking to someone while I was in the bath."
"Headmaster Dumbledore."
"Did you tell him ... about what happened to me?" asked Harry, lowering his eyes.
"It was my duty to inform him of your condition."
"I just ... I just don't want people to know ..." he said, beginning to sound sleepy.
"You can trust Albus to be discrete, Harry." I said, feeling a twinge of commiseration.
I had wanted as few people as possible to know about my recent confinement. Dumbledore had tried to make that happen, though word reached the Ministry and some of my former colleagues as well. It was becoming rather widely known, despite Dumbledore's efforts.
"Disgraceful," I thought to myself, "an ex-Auror locked in his own trunk under the Imperious Curse." People would talk about that for years to come, and I could hardly blame them.
"Alastor ... I think they killed my owl. I think ... they may have killed Hedwig." he told me slowly as grogginess thickened his words even as his eyes closed.
"Poor lad." I whispered, shuddering at the thought of his familiar being killed as I tucked the blanket closer around Harry and brushed his dark hair away from his forehead. I removed his glasses and set them on the table for him.
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A/N: I'm going on vacation at the end of the week and won't be near a computer *twitch* until mid-May. So the next update may be a little ... slow. My apologies.
kateydidnt: I wanted to try something a little different. Thank you for reviewing!
isaac-p: Thank you for the review!
Elisha: Thanks for reviewing!
Ariel: Yay! Another Moody fan! I think about his past a lot. Very interesting subject since only a little real background information is given about him in GoF. Thank you for reviewing!
Jasmine Black: Thanks for the review! (Sorry about your story that was removed! I was really enjoying it.)
summersun: Thank you!
chanzo654: I really wish that I had a sense of humor (that translates into a written form), because I see what you mean about the potential for humor with Moody's eye and all. Thank you for reviewing!
Lady FoxFire: Not just anyone can write about that sort of abuse in a realistic/sensitive fashion. I don't think that I can (one of my many failings as a writer). I will attempt to be more informative when I update. Thanks for reviewing!
Michelle: I have never read "Heidi". Somehow I missed out on most of the 'classics' in school. Thanks for the review!
Introductions
A few minutes later after the headmaster had gone, I heard the sound of a quiet voice calling for me from the bath. Potter, of course. I rubbed my face with both hands and left my seat by the fire. How would he feel when he learned that he was staying here for the rest of the summer? I could not imagine that he would be very keen on the idea.
Opening the door slightly, I asked, "Can I come in?"
"Yes." Potter replied.
He was sitting in the tub with his knees drawn up. I reached for a towel on the rack near the door, but then I noticed something. The water in the tub had a slightly pink cast to it. Blood, I thought almost instantly. I felt a definite chill at the very thought. I took the towel from the rack and handed to Harry, who had just taken the stopper out of the tub, letting the water drain out. I averted my eyes as he dried himself off.
"Do you have any injuries that might need looking after?" I asked him.
"My back, sir." he said quietly.
I turned around and walked back to the tub where he continued to sit, but with the towel wrapped neatly around his waist.
"Lean forward, lad." I instructed him.
The shallow gash, which ran from the small of his back to the bottom of his right shoulder blade, was long, jagged, and had not closed neatly. It looked as though it might be infected. I reached to touch it, but thought better of it. This was the source of the blood, and for that I felt mildly relieved. There are worse things than mere flesh wounds.
"Let me fetch something to put on that." I said to him, extracting a mute and perfunctory nod.
There was a bottle of wound-cleaning potion in the medical kit. It was nearly half empty from rather frequent use. I glanced at the warnings on the bottle and swore silently as I read, "Do not use of injuries that have begun to close or that may be infected." What was the use of the stuff then? Reading further I noticed that it recommended an antiseptic gel for older wounds, especially those that showed signs of infection. Further rummaging through the kit produced an unopened tube of the suggested substance with which I returned to the bath.
Harry was sitting exactly where and how I had left him. I dragged an old three-legged stool up the basin and sat down behind him, glancing over the instructions for the gel again.
"This might sting a bit." I warned him.
"All right." he said apathetically. The tiredness was back in his voice.
I squeezed a light blue and slightly granular substance from the tube and carefully spread it across the gash on Potter's back. If it caused him any discomfort, I couldn't tell. He was silent and unflinching.
The injury began to close immediately as the gel permeated the wound. I carefully rubbed a little bit more of the mixture into the deepest portion of the mark and felt him stiffen slightly. Suddenly I realized that he was scared. I could feel the wild, uncontrolled magic building up beneath his skin. I slowly removed my hands and held my breath as I waited for him to calm down.
"That should do, lad." I told him as his shoulders relaxed.
"Thank you, sir." he said, looking at me over his shoulder.
"You want to tell me how that happened?" I asked.
"I fell." he said quite simply. I blinked and shook my head in disbelief. Didn't he realize that I had seen the bruises? That I knew something was amiss. "My uncle pushed me, and I fell against the corner of my bed." he clarified.
"I see." I nodded.
He seemed reluctant to talk about any of it. I could hardly blame him. I wanted to know more, of course. I wanted to know what had motivated his uncle to hurt him and to deny him needed medical attention. Simple hatred of wizardry and magic? If that were the case, then Harry probably would have died or been maimed or something in their care years ago. I had suspicions, but I didn't think that Harry would want to confirm or deny them at that particular time.
I grabbed his clothes from the floor, took my wand from my sleeve, and whispered a quiet freshening spell over them to take away the smell of fear, pain, and sweat. I knew that I would need to find him something warmer to wear tomorrow, but that could wait.
I gave him the nightclothes and turned so that he could put them on. When he clambered from the bath tub, I reached out an arm to steady him. He was still quite weak, and I'm sure he knew it.
Potter looked down at the floor and mumbled a very quiet, "Thank you, sir."
"Let's get you back to bed now. And this 'sir' business. We might as well clear that up while we're at it. Alastor ... Moody. And if neither of those are to your liking, I hear that folks call me Mad-Eye." I said with a thin and twisted smile, the best one I could manage.
Potter looked at me for a moment and started to say something, but his knees suddenly buckled. I swept him up in my arms in surprise. He had fainted. I carried him into the main room of the cottage and carefully placed him on the bed. He opened his eyes slightly and started to murmur an apology.
I frowned sternly and said, "Warn a man when you're going to do that, would you, Potter?"
"Harry." he whispered.
"Very good, but either way, say something. Merlin, lad, I'm not going to give you a clout." I said, grabbing a folded blanket from a nearby shelf and draping it over Harry against the slight chill that lingered in the air.
"I ... I will." said Harry.
"Do you think you could eat anything?" I questioned, sitting down on the edge of the bed again.
"I'm afraid ... that I might not be able to hold it down." said Harry.
I considered that statement for a moment and asked, "Do you want to try?"
"Could I have more water instead?"
"Conjured or from the tap?" I asked. The flask was nearly empty. I always conjured water. It was an old habit from the during the war against Grindelwald, though I had only seen the last three years or so of it. "I never drink from the tap myself, so I feel badly asking you to do it, but I imagine that it's what you're accustomed to." I added, looking at the expression on Potter's face.
"If you drink conjured water, then that's what I'll have, if it isn't too much of a bother ..." he began to say.
"None at all, Harry." I said, summoning a glass from the kitchen and filling it for him after close examination. "Slowly." I cautioned as he began to gulp.
"Thanks." he said after draining the glass.
"Never you mind." I said, taking the empty glass from Harry's hand. "I need to give you a healing potion. It might help with the fever, but it will certainly help with the pain. Of course, it will put you right to sleep too." I said, reaching into the nearby medical kit and removing a bottle of healing potion. It was something I had added to the standard kit myself.
"All right." nodded Harry. "But will it be a dreamless sleep?" he asked hesitantly.
"I'm sorry, but, no, it will just be an ordinary one. I use a very strong healing potion, and the two draughts don't always mix so well." I explained, shaking the excess water from the glass and pouring a crystalline pink fluid into it.
As I watched Harry drink it without question, I couldn't bring myself to lecture on constant vigilance. Harry was trusting me out of necessity. I didn't want to undermine that trust with hash words.
"Um, Alastor, I heard you talking to someone while I was in the bath."
"Headmaster Dumbledore."
"Did you tell him ... about what happened to me?" asked Harry, lowering his eyes.
"It was my duty to inform him of your condition."
"I just ... I just don't want people to know ..." he said, beginning to sound sleepy.
"You can trust Albus to be discrete, Harry." I said, feeling a twinge of commiseration.
I had wanted as few people as possible to know about my recent confinement. Dumbledore had tried to make that happen, though word reached the Ministry and some of my former colleagues as well. It was becoming rather widely known, despite Dumbledore's efforts.
"Disgraceful," I thought to myself, "an ex-Auror locked in his own trunk under the Imperious Curse." People would talk about that for years to come, and I could hardly blame them.
"Alastor ... I think they killed my owl. I think ... they may have killed Hedwig." he told me slowly as grogginess thickened his words even as his eyes closed.
"Poor lad." I whispered, shuddering at the thought of his familiar being killed as I tucked the blanket closer around Harry and brushed his dark hair away from his forehead. I removed his glasses and set them on the table for him.
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A/N: I'm going on vacation at the end of the week and won't be near a computer *twitch* until mid-May. So the next update may be a little ... slow. My apologies.
kateydidnt: I wanted to try something a little different. Thank you for reviewing!
isaac-p: Thank you for the review!
Elisha: Thanks for reviewing!
Ariel: Yay! Another Moody fan! I think about his past a lot. Very interesting subject since only a little real background information is given about him in GoF. Thank you for reviewing!
Jasmine Black: Thanks for the review! (Sorry about your story that was removed! I was really enjoying it.)
summersun: Thank you!
chanzo654: I really wish that I had a sense of humor (that translates into a written form), because I see what you mean about the potential for humor with Moody's eye and all. Thank you for reviewing!
Lady FoxFire: Not just anyone can write about that sort of abuse in a realistic/sensitive fashion. I don't think that I can (one of my many failings as a writer). I will attempt to be more informative when I update. Thanks for reviewing!
Michelle: I have never read "Heidi". Somehow I missed out on most of the 'classics' in school. Thanks for the review!