Anti-climaticness and boringness, but whatever

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Chapter 3

"Harry! You're alive!"

Harry jumped, and did so visibly, he was sure. Fluffy brown hair was stuffed in his face, and warm squishy weight was pressed on top of him…well, that answered the question of Hermione's health.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Potter is severely injured, extract yourself immediately!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed in horror.

Hermione jumped back, and Harry smiled at her…only to remember for the first time that he didn't have his glasses on!

"Madam Pomfrey, how can I see?" Harry asked, not that he wasn't pleased about the situation.

"We think it had something to do with the magical reaction," Hermione explained before Madam Pomfrey got the chance, "there is no telling the potential side effects you might have—"

"If you would hold your explanation for just a moment Miss Granger, it would be better for Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey interjected. "If his pain medication wears off, he will be in no shape to appreciate your genius."

There was no telling if that was a truthful or sarcastic remark.

Hermione stepped out of the near vicinity and Madam Pomfrey held out a potion and after she'd watched, with vulture's eyes, him drink it all down. She began to change the bandage on his left hand, it was stained, but not with blood. There was a strange darkish pink mixed in with blue and purple and even a little green and yellow…it was nasty.

"What is that?" Harry demanded feeling disgusted.

"A small amount of blood mixed with the medication, pus, and various impurities from your hands," Madam Pomfrey replied without blinking. "I should all clear up in a couple of days, Mr. Potter, although there is no telling when your hands will be completely healed."

Harry looked at his hand, and where the blue and purple came from was immediately explained. It was oozing like congealing blood from the starburst star on his palm; the whole scar looked like it had hand been injected with blue and purple dye—

"It didn't look like that last night!" Harry exclaimed, "That can't be normal!"

"It is normal, and I imagine it will look quite different tomorrow as well, magical injuries are quite imperceptible, Mr. Potter."

She finished rubbing the green salve onto his hand and then began to bandage the hand up.

"Do you have any sensation in your hands, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she moved herself and her supplies to the other side of the bed.

"No," Harry asked, "Should I?"

"No, I imagine it will be a little while before the numbing spell fully wears off," Madam Pomfrey replied, and she cut into the bandage on his right hand, "You'll be pleased to note this one is only a spot of blood and some medication that has rubbed off. The steel is still imbedded in your hand, though."

Harry turned to look at this hand, and decided it looked like a really bad case of frostbite, except the hand was bleeding in a few spots as well…how did these things always manage to happen to him?

"You'll also need to drink this, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said once she'd finished work on his hand, "I've never seen anyone manage to loose this much blood from a hand injury, but nothing's impossible for you, is it, Mr. Potter?"

"That's placing a high value on my abilities," Harry replied with a grin, "thanks for the vote of confidence."

Madam Pomfrey huffed in annoyance, and held out a vial, and Harry quickly downed it, he managed to keep a straight face, but wasn't able to stop the fierce gag when the aftertaste hit his tongue.

"And that will be all, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, taking the vial and cleaning up all the supplies she'd used, "I'll send Miss Granger in, right away, but she won't be able to stay long. You need your rest."

Madam Pomfrey left through the privacy curtain.

"Oh, Harry, you would not believe all that I've been researching since the battle! It's absolutely fascinating! Let me tell you—"

"Hi, Hermione, it's nice to see you," Harry interjected pleasantly, "I'm fine, no pain or anything, thanks for asking."

Hermione flushed and looked down, bushy hair covering part of her face and she exclaimed, "I'm so sorry! I've just been helping the order research and I forget that it's not just for academics, that you're actually up here…"

Harry smiled and replied, "It's okay, I understand how you get when you're around books."

"Not books, Harry Potter," She replied, offended, "besides I'm trying to help you…not that there's really much we can do."

"What did happen?" Harry asked, "I know that my wand exploded, but why?"

"From what we've gathered," Hermione replied, looking around for a place to sit, and then carefully alighting on the edge of Harry's bed, "the spell the death eater threw at you, you tried to block it with the crowbar you were holding, right?"

Harry nodded in agreement, he remembered that, and then he added, "Not that it was supposed to do something…"

"Well, it did. The metal of the crowbar worked as a conductor for the magic, like it would electricity and all of the magic flowed into you, and then tried to get out," Hermione explained. "And it would have been okay, if the magic hadn't hit your wand, but it did. The magic overloaded your wand and caused it to explode, releasing more magic into your body, that also had to get out...and the magic that tried to get out through the crowbar, overheated the metal and caused it to melt as you held it."

Harry let all of this sink in for a moment and then asked, "And that's what happened?"

"That's what happened," Hermione agreed.

"The…that crowbar did this?" Harry demanded, "It's not even magical!"

"Which is part of why it's so amazing," Hermione agreed, clearly not feeling the same way Harry felt about it. "No one was aware that metal, by itself, could channel magic!"

Harry shook his head in slight annoyance at Hermione's exuberance and asked, "Is it here?"

"Is what here?"

"The crowbar, is it here, or did they leave it there? Has it been thrown away?" Harry asked.

"Well, I know that it was brought here with you, because it was melted into your bones, practically," Hermione replied haltingly, "I don't know what they did with it, though."

"Can you ask?"

Hermione nodded and replied, "Yes, I suppose I can…"

When Harry said nothing more, but continued looking at Hermione pointedly, she slowly stood up and brushed her clothes into place and then slipped out between the privacy curtains. Harry couldn't hear the conversation between her and Madam Pomfrey, but he could see their shadows, and neither of them looked very happy.

Well, Harry wasn't happy either, damnit. He wanted to see what had done this to him…besides his reflexes.

Little did he know what a wild goose chase the whole thing would turn out to be.