At the Hospital Wing

Harry woke to an angry voice, scolding Hermione, "Miss Granger, return to your bed immediately! I'll not tell you again."

"Madam Pomfrey?" Harry muttered, with his eyes still closed.

"Harry!" Someone screeched close to his ear.

"Ow!" Harry opened his eyes quickly but closed them just as quickly again. It was bright!

"Miss Granger, if you don't leave this second and let me tend to my patient, I'll dock 100 points from Gryffindor!"

"But…"

"Now!"

Harry heard Hermione shuffling off. She managed to sound dejected even without saying a word.

"Mr Potter, welcome back. You gave us quite the scare."

"What happened?" Harry tried to open one eye a little. Nope, still too bright. He quickly closed it again.

"You cast the counter-curse onto yourself and collapsed. There was no way to wake you up again. The Unspeakables had to come and figure out what had happened and how to help you."

"Oh no! Do I now look like Snape, after the spell hit him? Please tell me I don't!" Harry opened his eyes and tried to look imploringly at the blurry blob in front of him. But it was still much too bright, so he gave up after a second and squeezed his eyes shut again. "Blargh."

"No, Mr Potter you haven't changed, it was the counter-curse, not that dratted spell. Only your scar is a little less prominent now."

"Thank God!"

"Here, drink this."

A vial was pressed to his lips, and he swallowed automatically, "Blargh!" Harry said once more.

"Very eloquent, Mr Potter," a new and deep voice said, coming from close by, as well. Where did he come from? Must have crept in!

"Why does it always taste so bad?" Harry whined with his eyes still clenched shut.

"Because I was a miserable and nasty bugger," the deep voice answered.

Harry's eyes flew open, and he stared at his Potions teacher (a dark blob).

In the background, someone gasped and another someone squeaked. But Harry stared until his eyes were watering. Fortunately, the man waved his wand, and the surroundings got a little less bright.

"Thanks," Harry said faintly.

"You're welcome, Mr Potter."

"Er, Professor Snape, why are you here?"

"Because I got involved when I called the Unspeakables after you cast the counter-spell on yourself, and your reaction was quite unexpected."

"Oh! Do you know what happened?"

"There's only guesswork so far, but I can tell you what– "

"Severus! The Headmaster wouldn't want you to talk about this with Mr Potter."

"Poppy, Albus cannot keep a lid on it anymore, as much as he might try, and Mr Potter has the right to know what happened to him, wouldn't you agree?"

The Matron huffed but conceded, "On your head be it," and bustled off to places unknown.

Harry turned his eyes to the Potions Master again.

"As I was saying, I can only tell you what we've found so far. It appears that some kind of residue of the Dark Lord had lodged itself into your scar on that horrible night eleven years ago."

Harry, and the obviously eavesdropping Hermione behind the screen, gasped.

"Indeed. The Unspeakables theorised a lot, but in essence, they suspect that by casting the counter onto yourself you also hit the residue and returned it to its 'normal' state. Which caused that 'piece' of the Dark Lord to loosen its connection to him and therefore its hold on you rather abruptly."

"So, it's gone?" Harry asked urgently.

"It is."

Harry sank back into his bed, feeling like he had run a marathon.

Professor Snape let him lie there quietly and one could only hear the rustling and bustling that always seemed to occur at this place. Even Hermione must have decided to let Harry be for a minute.

"So… that's why my scar hurt when Voldemort was close by, last year?"

"How?... Oh, Quirrell. Yes, that would be a plausible explanation. No. 15 will be quite interested to hear that."

"No. 15? Like 007?"

"Quite. No. 15 is an Unspeakable and, apparently, their organisation is the magical branch of MI-5."

"Wow!"

"Indeed. They also concluded that you might have more magical reserves at your disposal now and that your eyesight might have gotten a little better."

"I don't think so. Everything is still very blurry. Do you know where my glasses are, Professor?"

"I do. Hold out your hand."

Soon Harry had his glasses on his nose again and he sighed, "Nope no better, I think. Everything is less blurry like always, again."

"Less blurry? When was the last time you've seen an optometrist?"

"Uh, never? Aunt Petunia got the glasses out of a donation bin when the school nurse told her I needed glasses."

Professor Snape was speechless, and Hermione could be heard gasping in horror.

"Pet– Petunia? That's where you live?"

"Yeah," Harry scowled.

"That doesn't sound right. I mean, she shouldn't be responsible for a magical child, or any child at all, now that I think about it."

Harry couldn't agree more, "You know her?"

"I knew her as a child. That's quite a long tale and I promise I'll tell you at some time but let's stay on the topic at hand. So, you need to see an optometrist. I'll tell the Matron. The Unspeakables also wondered if you had gotten any powers via the 'piece' lodged in your scar. But that will be hard to discern, I think."

"All I know is that my wand holds a feather of the same bird as Voldemort's does."

Professor Snape looked startled and then handed Harry's wand over, "Why don't you give it a try now?"

Harry waved it and didn't feel this immediate connection anymore that had always filled him with so much warmth. "Oh," he sighed mournfully.

Professor Snape conjured a feather and said, "Try levitating it."

Swish-and-flick, "Wingardium Leviosa." The feather rose haltingly into the air, but the spell didn't work as well as it had before.

"Well, the wand still works for you, but it evidently is not your wand anymore, I'm sorry to say."

Harry looked down at it, feeling quite sad.

"You may keep it and we'll find another wand, which would be better suited for you now, all right?"

"Okay."

"The only thing I can tell you is that you're not the only one by far to lose this amazing connection to your first wand. Many people have gone through this. Some had changed in personality too much when growing up, and some have had their wands broken."

"Like Ron's."

"Pardon?"

"Well, Ron's wand got broken when we landed the car on that angry tree in September. He fixed it with Spellotape. It doesn't work right anymore, either." Harry saw no reason to keep quiet about it. It was rather hard to miss, he thought.

Professor Snape looked speechless.

"I think the Weasleys don't have much money, you know? And wands are expensive."

"There's a fund exactly for instances like this, Mr Potter."

"Really?"

"Indeed. I must talk to my colleagues teaching wand-waving subjects." Professor Snape made a note on the parchment he had written down some information given to him by Harry already. Like his wand, the optometrist, Petunia…

"Where are the Unspeakables anyway?"

"Oh, they went to investigate those cases of petrification happening at Hogwarts. When they arrived for you, they might have gotten a little distracted by the petrified ghost, student, and cat. They called for reinforcements and descended onto the school. Some helped with you and then went off to investigate the Dark Lord. It was quite the hubbub."

They both heard someone huff behind the screen and Professor Snape called, "Why don't you join us, Miss Granger? I think we've covered everything for now."

Harry grinned at his friend, who sheepishly appeared from behind the screen, cat ears flickering and tail twitching.

Professor Snape's reaction was diametrically opposite. He yelped, "What happened to you, Miss Granger?!" and then called out loudly, "Poppy!"

Hermione, who had forgotten about her current state and that she was supposed to keep hidden, looked even more sheepish.

Madam Pomfrey came bustling in and exclaimed, "Miss Granger, what did I tell you?"

"Never mind that, Poppy," Professor Snape said, looking rather annoyed. "How come you have a potions accident with Polyjuice and cat's hair in your wing and haven't asked for help? Or at least the necessary potion?"

Madam Pomfrey blinked, "I'm sorry to say, Severus, I learned to have as little contact with you as possible. And you were busy with your looks at that time and hiding in your quarters, truth to be told."

Professor Snape nodded, conceding her points, "But St. Mungo's would have put her to rights within a day."

"I know! But Albus forbade me to contact them! And I didn't know there was a potion that could help her. I did the best I could at the time. Is the potion still a possible cure?"

Professor Snape huffed and then nodded. He also scribbled something onto his parchment again.

"So, in future should a case like this occur, please think of contacting me. I'll not verbally rip your head off anymore, I promise."

Madam Pomfrey looked relieved, and Professor Snape pulled Hermione to the side to ask her some questions. The girl looked much more upbeat now that a cure was in sight.

Harry was happy for his friend, and also that he had gotten some answers at last. He also wondered how Professor Snape knew Aunt Petunia. That was quite unexpected. And why didn't Professor Dumbledore want Madam Pomfrey to contact this St. Mangoes? It clearly was a healing facility.

He noted that getting answers seemed to generate even more questions. No wonder Hermione always asked so many if they kept piling up like this.

Meanwhile, Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Harry and nodded, "You're as good as you were before your collapse, Mr Potter. I would say, you can leave if Professor Snape agrees."

Harry blinked, "Why do you need his okay?"

"Because he was the one in contact with the Unspeakables and might know something I don't. Also, he's a certified healer, like me."

"Wow! So, he teaches Potions, is a Head of House, brews potions for you, and is a healer?"

"Indeed, Mr Potter," the deep voice of the man Harry was talking about, agreed. "I undoubtedly must cut back on my duties."

Harry grinned. He liked the new and improved Professor.

Madame Pomfrey huffed and said, "Would you agree he's ready to go?"

Professor Snape frowned in thought and answered, "Did you ever cast a full diagnosis on him?"

"No, why should I?"

Professor Snape seemed to struggle with himself not to scowl at Madame Pomfrey or worse, "Why indeed. Please indulge me. It also would be good to have a baseline established for later times, don't you think?"

Madams Pomfrey blinked and then nodded, "You're right. I don't know why I haven't done so in the past. It's standard procedure, after all."

Professor Snape muttered something about 'standard procedures,' but Harry didn't quite catch it.

Poor Hermione, who had just sat down next to Harry, was chased out again and the two healers did their diagnostic casting. Harry just had to lay there and not move. while they waved their wands over him and a seemingly endless roll of parchment.

After some time, Madame Pomfrey cut off a few feet of it and cast a charm on the roll she had in her hand now. A copy appeared and was handed to Professor Snape.

"Very well," the now a little pale-looking Matron said, "you may leave now, Mr Potter. I'll call for you as soon as we've gone over the results and devised a health plan, if necessary."

Harry nodded and after the two adults had left, he got himself ready and went to look for Hermione.

She was sitting on her bed behind her partitions and reading. Or trying to, at least.

"Hi," Harry said. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, take a seat! What did they find?"

"I don't know. They spelled the results onto a parchment, but said they needed to look the results over first."

"Makes sense, right?"

"I suppose. So, tell me, what did I miss? And what day is it anyway?" Harry asked.

"Oh! It's the day after your collapse. And it's late morning. I think the date is the 30th," she glanced over to the stack of newspapers on the side table and nodded, "Yes."

"Okay, thanks! And did I miss anything?"

"Oh yes! Yesterday Dumbledore was here, and he was oh so angry that the Unspeakables had been called and were investigating your scar and all the cases of petrification! He seemed to have lost hold of his magic because the air was thick with it. Like it is at the beginning of term feast, but much stronger. One of the Unspeakables yelled at him to pull himself together because it was hard to breathe by then!"

"Wow! He really doesn't like people coming onto his turf, right?"

"You think that was why?" Hermione chewed her lip with her rather prominent front teeth.

Harry blinked and nodded, "He seems to like being in charge. But I don't know about adults. They are just so strange, most of the time."

"That's true. Did you know, Professor McGonagall left the castle to go home for the break, with three of her Gryffindors in the Hospital Wing by now? Well, she only knew about two when she left, but still."

"Do you think she's as overworked as Professor Snape? I mean, she's a Professor, our Head of House, and the Deputy Headmistress."

Hermione nodded, "Sounds like a lot, right?"

"Totally! So, when will you get out of here?"

"Professor Snape said he would brew the potion right away and bring it to me in the evening. So, I should be right as rain by tomorrow morning."

"Awesome! So, where's Ron?"

"He wasn't allowed to come to visit. I bet he's waiting and fretting outside."

"Is it okay if I go and look for him? Maybe he's allowed to enter now, and we can fill him in."

"Sure!"

Harry went looking outside and found a scowling Ron sitting on the bench outside the Hospital Wing's doors, trying to play chess against himself.

Soon the three had brought each other up to date and spent an enjoyable day in Hermione's little partition of the Hospital Wing, broken only by mealtimes.