Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, even though I wish I did.

Chapter Seventeen: Freedom

Harry drummed his fingers on the small wooden writing slab that covered his lap. He wasn't allowed to be released until Madam Pomfrey found the right combination of potions to help with the shaking and not make him speak parsletongue. It was slow going.

In the mean time, the little bed had become Harry's personal area. It stood out from the rest of the hospital wing. The greatest contrast was the fact that the bedding was much nicer. Instead of sterile white sheets and scratchy cotton blankets, Harry had a down comforter that usually adorned the Slytherin beds in winter, when the dungeons often fell bellow zero. He had some decorations up, and books on his end table. The stack of get-well cards next to his bed seemed to grow every day, and it gave Harry a strange feeling to look at them. A kind of warm, twisting feeling in his gut.

Draco and Theodor came to visit every day, sometimes flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Blaise didn't come as often, but he still popped in to say hello. They talked for as long as Madam Pomfrey allowed them, which wasn't always long because of his strict potion regiment. Doing his schoolwork was a real pain, because he didn't get practical instruction, just notes and some books, and, in the case of transfiguration or potions, items to transfigure and ingredients to mix.

He'd been in the Hospital wing a week longer than he should have been when Ron Weasley came by for a visit.

"Look at that, Potter," he said in an ill-mannered voice. "All set up nice and cozy. Going to stay here forever?" He sneered, but the look didn't suit him, and he looked kind of stupid.

"Sod off, if you don't mind," said Harry, in what he considered a well-refined voice, but his hand was clamped down on his wand, knuckles white.

"No, I'm fine here, thanks," said Ron. "Poor Harry Potter gets knocked around a little bit and has to spend a whole week and a half in the hospital wing? Pathetic."

Harry raised his wand to point between Ron's eyes, but before he got the chance to curse him into little greasy bits, the hospital wing door opened again, and two other boys came in. They had Ron's flaming hair, were a little on the short side, and were identical to the last spotty freckle.

"There you are," said one, as they looked at Ron. "Not causing trouble?"

Ron had his wand in his hand, but it wasn't yet pointed at Harry. Harry hadn't lowered his at all.

"What's going on here?" asked one twin, looking between them.

"Just saying 'hello'," said Ron, stuffing his wand in his robes.

"And he was just leaving," said Harry, not moving a bit, save for the tremor that coursed through his arm. He was on a low dose of muscle relaxant, but it wasn't a long term solution.

Ron turned to walk away, but both of the twins grabbed either of his arms. "I think we'll be having a talk about tact, what do you say, Fred?"

"Couldn't agree more, George. See you around, Harry," said the one named Fred, and with that, they frog matched Ron from the hospital wing. Harry covered a snort of laughter.

About an hour later, Fred and George returned, without Ron in tow.

"Sorry about that," said George. Or Fred. Harry couldn't tell.

"Yeah, Ron can be a bit of a ponce," said the other.

"And a git," said the first.

Harry watched the two back and forth like tennis partners and gave another laugh. "You're his brothers?" asked Harry. They both nodded, and spoke in unison.

"Fred and George Weasley, at your service. Third year trouble makers, extraordinaire."

Harry shook hands with them both, smiling thoroughly.

"You know, you're the first nice Gryffindors I've met," said Harry.

Fred and George gave identical grins.

"Nah, you're just the first Slytherin without his head up his arse."

Harry bit his tongue, decidedly not going to argue about Inter-house politics. They chatted back and forth for a little bit, Fred and George regaling Harry of past misdeeds while Harry told them about the orphanage.

"Why a Muggle Orphanage?" asked Fred, as harry had found out which was which, at least for now.

Harry shrugged. "Do they have Wizard Orphanages?"

George shrugged. "There aren't to many Wizard Orphans, are there? There's a ward-program in the Ministry, but I don't know about anything else."

Just then, Madam Pomfrey ushered the two out of the Hospital Wing so Harry could try a new batch of potions and rest.

Harry took a vail of hot pink liquid and looked at it dubiously.

"Best to drink it right away, deary," said Madam Pomfrey. "It stops working quick if you don't, and Professor Snape just made it."

Harry downed the liquid inside and looked himself over, a habit he had obtained since one of the first potions had turned him bright blue. With his skin colour still normal, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, say something," said Madam Pomfrey, who hated when Harry spoke parslemouth, involuntary or not.

"Oh, er, something," said Harry, looking up at her.

"Well, that's something," she quipped, writing something on a clip board, then she ignited her wand and passed it back and forth in front of Harry's eyes.

"Very good," Madam Pomfrey muttered to herself.

"Does that mean I get to go?" asked Harry, excitedly. The Hospital Wing was dreadfully boring.

"We have to wait for the muscle relaxant to finish working, then, if the shaking doesn't return, and you're still speaking English, you may leave tomorrow, Merlin willing. Of course, you'll need to check in every day for the next week, to make sure you aren't regressing."

Harry nodded glumly.

"Buck up, Mr. Potter, we'll sort you out, and you'll be back with your friends soon enough." Madam Pomfrey placed a consoling hand on his shoulder, and then left him to his own devices.

Harry tried to pass the time reading, but a thought stuck in his mind. Snape had brewed these potions, as the potion master of the school. He had brewed them just for Harry. Harry allowed himself to go on that narcissistic train of thought for a little while, prodding himself with the knowledge that he brewed potions for all of the students in the hospital wing. However, the image of Snape huddled over a cauldron, mixing things left right and center with cool determination made Harry feel that warm twisting feeling again.

He wasn't sure when, but images turned to dreams, and he slept for a few hours. Madam Pomfrey came to check on him shortly thereafter. She took his pulse and checked his response to light without waking him, and went back to her office.

Harry awoke at first light in the morning. It was to dim to read, and surely Madam Pomfrey wasn't awake yet to discharge him, so he laid there, unable to return to sleep for what felt like forever. Like crept into the room slowly, and soon it was light enough to read, so Harry pulled out his potions book, and flipped through it, looking at all the potions he would brew. Maybe Snape could help him with the hard looking ones. There was that feeling again.

Harry guessed it was about six when Madam Pomfrey came out of her office. "Well, you aren't shaking, and the muscle relaxant has ran it's course. Say something in English, and we'll see you out of here to enjoy your day."

Harry smiled. "Can I go now?"

Madam Pomfrey laughed. "Very well, get going. I'll have the house elves clean up this lot and get it all back in order."

Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and climbed out, stretching as he did so. He pulled on a set of robes and straightened his glasses before turning and smiling at Madam Pomfrey. "Thanks," he said. "for getting me better."

"You should be thanking Professor Snape for that, Dear," said Madam Pomfrey, before shooing Harry out in mock annoyance. "Now go, you've been in here for nearly two weeks, Mr. Potter. And no running!" she called after him as he bolted to the door. She didn't feel like keeping him there another day to fix a nose and regrow teeth if he tripped.

Harry walked slowly to the door and grinned over hsi shoulder. She rolled her eyes. As soon as he was out of the Hospital wing, however, he took off at a dead sprint. He bounded down the stairs three at a time, racing towards the Great Hall.

Harry counted the days backwards in his head, trying to remember what day it was, and his heart lept when he realized it was Sunday, meaning he had the whole day to be outside and about.

Harry skidded to a halt at the door to the Great Hall. He didn't feel like making an entrance, so he pushed one of the doors open just enough to squeeze himself inside. The chatter inside didn't falter as he walked to his table, but a few heads turned. Harry kept his eyes down cast as he walked.

He made it to his table and was about to sit down when he was suddenly pulled into a tight hug. He yelped in surprise and saw that it was Theo. "Welcome back, Harry," he said.

Harry blushed. The smattering of chit chat that ran up and down the very reserved Slytherin table had stopped, and the other students looked up at them. Somewhere down the line, a girl snickered, and Theodor pulled away. "Well," he said, sitting back down. "Good to have you back."

Harry sat down between him and Draco. Draco patted him on the back. "Just can't help but to make a scene, can you?" Draco teased.

"Shut it," said Harry, feeling a mix of that squirmy feeling and embarrassment. Draco laughed, and poured him some pumpkin juice. "Come on, drink up. We'll go out and watch the giant squid later."

Harry laughed and took a sip of his pumpkin juice. He hadn't seen the squid, though he was fascinated by it already. He reached forward to get some toast, and no one stopped him or stole it away. Harry smiled and ate it slowly.

Snape came down from the teachers table to stand behind him. "Madam Pomfrey didn't tell me you were to be released today," he said.

Harry half-jumped, and turned to face his Head of House. "Oh, yes, well, she did," he said, rather lamely. "I have to check in every day for a week, though, and if I start shaking again, then I have to go back immediately."

Snape nodded. "Well, enjoy your day, Mr. Potter." With that, he turned to walk back to the teacher's table.

"Um, sir?" ventured Harry. Snape turned to look at him. "Thank you, you know, for making those potions."

Snape spared a brief smile. "Of course, Mr. Potter. Now, do eat something, you're skin and bones."

Harry smiled into his toast.

AN: Ok, so here's the 4-1-1 on the dealio, G homie sizzle. Word. Anyway, my internet connection is touch and go, so until I get it sorted out, updates might be a little infrequent. Anywho, here's a chapter for you.