As ever, standard disclaimers apply.
--
Octavius sat up in the bed, not eating the food on the tray floating over his lap. He didn't want to eat. He wanted to hide. All of this attention surely meant trouble. Like The Boy in his dreams he knew it was best to hide; to be unobserved and even better, unobservable. But how? The nurse had said the headmistress was coming and Mr Potter too. This was terrible. This was awful. His father would be very displeased. He groaned.
A bit too loudly as suddenly the matron was standing over him with a worried look. "I'm sorry," he whispered contritely.
"Whatever for child?"
"I did not mean to bother you."
"You didn't. It is my job to be alert to your needs." She fluffed the downy pillows behind his back. "I see you have touched almost nothing of your breakfast. You needn't be nervous, Headmistress McGonagall won't bite, you know."
"I suppose," he conceded noncommittally. "Anyway, I don't have this much for breakfast generally."
"I see."
He blushed deeply, realizing that perhaps that had not been the best thing to admit and gamely picked at a bowl of sliced fruit. A noise at the other side of the room drew both his and Madame Pomfrey's attention. It was Mr Potter coming in, carrying a small trunk. "Good morning Octavius! How are you this morning?"
"I'm well sir," returned automatically.
"Glad to hear it. I thought you might like to know what's going to happen this morning," he paused, obviously waiting for some sign from Octavius who nodded behind a small flush of embarrassed trepidation. "I can't promise you'll be comfortable, Octavius, but I can promise that none of us mean you any harm," the man told him honestly. "I will be here and Madame Pomfrey also. As will your Head of House and the Headmistress."
"I-I don't understand. What have I done wrong?"
"Why nothing, dearheart!" The mediwitch exclaimed.
"We are concerned for your health, Octavius."
Octavius frowned. Was this what his father had warned him about? "I am not sick." He insisted carefully.
"Well, perhaps not sick, child, but you are bruised," Pomfrey stopped with that.
"I fell."
The two adults clearly did not believe him. He clamped his lips tightly shut and lowered his head. This was going to mean trouble for sure and he was flummoxed if he could see any way out of it.
They didn't give him much time to think, Professor Vector and Headmistress McGonagall chose that precise moment to arrive. Both looked glum. Octavius lowered his head and folded his hands on his lap.
"Good morning Mr Lestrange," the Headmistress greeted with her normal stentorian tone.
"Good morning Headmistress," Octavius mumbled automatically.
"Now then. To the point. Who has been hitting you, child?" She felt it best to approach things head on, especially with Slytherins. It tended to catch them off guard.
"I fall a lot."
"I see. Mr Lestrange, I don't suppose you understand how wrong it is to lie, do you?"
"Depends if you're caught Headmistress," he responded in all seriousness. with his head bent, though, he missed the amused smirk from the Counselor.
"Young man, I can remove House points for your cheek," the stern witch warned severely. "I don't think your housemates or your Head of House would be at all pleased with that., would they?"
"Most likely not, Ma'am." he stole a glance at Professor Vector whose schooled expression gave nothing away.
"Then I suggest you cease lying at once."
The boy folded his arms over his chest in an alarmingly familiar way that caused Harry to nearly choke. "Then I shall say nothing. If you do not wish to believe me, there is no point in it."
"Minerva," Harry interrupted. "Leave it."
"I will not. No one should be permitted to abuse a child in this way! No one!"
"I certainly don't disagree. But you are not going to get what you want and this will not make Octavius any friendlier to us. Will it Octavius?"
The boy sulked, glancing up to give a single confirming nod.
"We have Poppy's report. It will have to do."
Now the boy was frightened. What were they planning?! Panic showed on his face.
"Minerva, look at him."
The Headmistress did. And was clearly taken aback. "Well, Mr Lestrange, what would you have me do, then?"
"Nothing, Professor. Please, nothing is wrong."
The Headmistress shot an angry look at the school Counselor. "We will discuss this in my office when you have a moment, Mr Potter." She turned smartly and strode out.
Potter exchanged a look with Vector who, less purposefully, followed McGonagall's trail out. Harry came and sat on the boy's bed. "We can help, you know. But we'll take it slowly. We truly don't want to see you hurt."
"I'm not hurt. Not much. It's my fault anyway."
"Why is that, Octavius?"
"I can't seem to do anything right, sir."
"Well, can you give me an example?"
The boy shook his head. "It's family business."
"How about we trade secrets then? I'll tell you one of mine, you tell me one of yours. that's fair don't you think?"
"What kind of secrets?"
"Any kind you like."
The boy frowned in consternation. "I don't think I'd ought."
"All right then. How about you get dressed and I'll take you to class."
"Yes sir, thank you."
"Erm... I brought you some socks. They'll help keep your shoes from blistering your feet." He lay the thick footwear on the bed. They'd been his this morning, but he'd transfigured them to a more appropriate size.
Octavius pulled them on and a tiny smile rewarded Harry.
"I've, erm, transfigured your shoes so they'd fit better too."
That didn't go over so well. The expression reverted to dismay.
"Don't worry, I'll set them back to rights before you have to go home," the man whispered conspiratorially. Then he got up and went to talk with Poppy, leaving the boy to dress in privacy.