A Talk Over Tea IV
Madam Pomfrey shot Dumbledore a look as he reached to pull a chair out from the small table. Dumbledore grinned and pulled the chair out with exaggerated care, not scraping it across the stone floor.
Pomfrey only nodded and sat down at the table, a chipped kettle and two mismatched cups floating toward them.
"Thank you." Dumbledore said as Pomfrey poured tea into his cup. She also pushed a tray of brownies before him, Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I've noticed that when people have bad news they tend to ply you with good food and sweets." He said, biting into a brownie. "How is he?"
Pomfrey sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "He's fine physically, or at least he's fine physically now. I just had to patch up a few self inflicted wounds." She sighed again.
"Self inflicted?"
"I think we've done a horrible thing." Pomfrey said, her hands shaking as she tried to sip her tea.
"How so?" Dumbledore asked, setting his cup down.
"You weren't here last night. You didn't hear his sobbing, his screaming, his cries for his parents, for Sirius." Tears glittered in her eyes. "All that pain."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "He's suffered more pain than people five times his age. He's reliving all his memories over again, they were hidden from him before. Now they've all come back."
Pomfrey was nodding. "I only wished that the potion he had been making actually did work. No one deserves to face that much pain."
Dumbledore took another sip of tea. "The potion would have worked, it would have blocked his painful memories, but only for a while. When it wore off the pain would come back ten times worst than what he's facing now. I'm afraid that there's no way to run away from the pain, we all must learn to deal with it."
"Deal with it!" Pomfrey suddenly shouted. She glared at Dumbledore. "He's just a little boy! He had a chance to forget all of this, all his pain. He had a chance to live the life of any other boy, free for these terrible worries that were forced on him." Pomfrey's voice went shrill.
Dumbledore was nodding. "This was the only choice that was opened for him, he knew that." He said.
"Schemes." Pomfrey sneered. "What are you playing at Dumbledore?" She accused.
"Nothing." Dumbledore said, his face expressionless.
Pomfrey shook her head. "I'm good when it comes to physical wounds. I can fix a broken bone in a minute; get rid of cuts in seconds. But this...this is beyond my training. I don't know how to console a person when it comes to deep hurt and lost." She sighed heavily, taking a long sip of her tea.
"I'm afraid all we can do is hope that he finds some comfort and consoling in his friends." Dumbledore said. "Until we can get a trained counselor to treat him, but those are hard to find."
"Everyone thinks that potions, spells, and charms can solve all their problems." Pomfrey was frowning fiercely. "He's asleep now, more from exhaustion than anything else. I've dumped every sleeping draught I know into him, but he still wakes up moments latter. I'm afraid he'll try to hurt himself again when he wakes up."
"How so?' Dumbledore asked slowly.
"Twice last night he injured himself badly. Once he broke the window and tried slitting his own wrists. The other time he was tearing madly at his tears, crying that he couldn't stop hearing the screaming. This isn't just about his godfather dying, this is all the bad things that happened in his life hitting him all at once. I can't begin to imagine what he's facing, what horrors he has to relive over and over."
Dumbledore was silent, staring at his cup. "I'll see what I can do." He said.
"You'll see what you can do?" Pomfrey's anger rose again. "Is that all you can say? You practically forced him to regain his lost memories, now he has to face them all again and all at once. And all you can say is you'll see what you can do?"
"I am not stupid, Albus. I know that Harry has some part to play in all the recent scheming and plotting you have been doing. I don't know how or why and I don't want to know. But what I care about more than this war between you and You Know Who are the children of this school. If that boy is important to you, then you do more than see what you can do for him. You help him. You help him get through this." Pomfrey said fiercely.
"I'll see what I can do." Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. Pomfrey watched him leave, his shoulders a little more stooped than they had been when he first came in. She sighed and wiped away the tears running down her face.
Madam Pomfrey shot Dumbledore a look as he reached to pull a chair out from the small table. Dumbledore grinned and pulled the chair out with exaggerated care, not scraping it across the stone floor.
Pomfrey only nodded and sat down at the table, a chipped kettle and two mismatched cups floating toward them.
"Thank you." Dumbledore said as Pomfrey poured tea into his cup. She also pushed a tray of brownies before him, Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I've noticed that when people have bad news they tend to ply you with good food and sweets." He said, biting into a brownie. "How is he?"
Pomfrey sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "He's fine physically, or at least he's fine physically now. I just had to patch up a few self inflicted wounds." She sighed again.
"Self inflicted?"
"I think we've done a horrible thing." Pomfrey said, her hands shaking as she tried to sip her tea.
"How so?" Dumbledore asked, setting his cup down.
"You weren't here last night. You didn't hear his sobbing, his screaming, his cries for his parents, for Sirius." Tears glittered in her eyes. "All that pain."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. "He's suffered more pain than people five times his age. He's reliving all his memories over again, they were hidden from him before. Now they've all come back."
Pomfrey was nodding. "I only wished that the potion he had been making actually did work. No one deserves to face that much pain."
Dumbledore took another sip of tea. "The potion would have worked, it would have blocked his painful memories, but only for a while. When it wore off the pain would come back ten times worst than what he's facing now. I'm afraid that there's no way to run away from the pain, we all must learn to deal with it."
"Deal with it!" Pomfrey suddenly shouted. She glared at Dumbledore. "He's just a little boy! He had a chance to forget all of this, all his pain. He had a chance to live the life of any other boy, free for these terrible worries that were forced on him." Pomfrey's voice went shrill.
Dumbledore was nodding. "This was the only choice that was opened for him, he knew that." He said.
"Schemes." Pomfrey sneered. "What are you playing at Dumbledore?" She accused.
"Nothing." Dumbledore said, his face expressionless.
Pomfrey shook her head. "I'm good when it comes to physical wounds. I can fix a broken bone in a minute; get rid of cuts in seconds. But this...this is beyond my training. I don't know how to console a person when it comes to deep hurt and lost." She sighed heavily, taking a long sip of her tea.
"I'm afraid all we can do is hope that he finds some comfort and consoling in his friends." Dumbledore said. "Until we can get a trained counselor to treat him, but those are hard to find."
"Everyone thinks that potions, spells, and charms can solve all their problems." Pomfrey was frowning fiercely. "He's asleep now, more from exhaustion than anything else. I've dumped every sleeping draught I know into him, but he still wakes up moments latter. I'm afraid he'll try to hurt himself again when he wakes up."
"How so?' Dumbledore asked slowly.
"Twice last night he injured himself badly. Once he broke the window and tried slitting his own wrists. The other time he was tearing madly at his tears, crying that he couldn't stop hearing the screaming. This isn't just about his godfather dying, this is all the bad things that happened in his life hitting him all at once. I can't begin to imagine what he's facing, what horrors he has to relive over and over."
Dumbledore was silent, staring at his cup. "I'll see what I can do." He said.
"You'll see what you can do?" Pomfrey's anger rose again. "Is that all you can say? You practically forced him to regain his lost memories, now he has to face them all again and all at once. And all you can say is you'll see what you can do?"
"I am not stupid, Albus. I know that Harry has some part to play in all the recent scheming and plotting you have been doing. I don't know how or why and I don't want to know. But what I care about more than this war between you and You Know Who are the children of this school. If that boy is important to you, then you do more than see what you can do for him. You help him. You help him get through this." Pomfrey said fiercely.
"I'll see what I can do." Dumbledore said, rising to his feet. Pomfrey watched him leave, his shoulders a little more stooped than they had been when he first came in. She sighed and wiped away the tears running down her face.