In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 106: Care of Magical Creatures
Ron woke to the fast feet right after Harry disapparated for his run, Monday morning. Ron spotted Gia running, heard the stomach wrench in the lavatory. Hermione moved first off the bed, Ron followed.
"Sorry," Gia said, on her knees, bent over the toilet. Mess within the toilet, her blue eyes turned to them.
Hermione's wand already out, worked Gia over.
"Not serious," Hermione said.
"Not great," Gia said.
"Oatmeal?" Ron asked.
"Give it a try," Gia said.
Ron went down the steps, around into the kitchen. Frying pan out, he began the frying and cooking.
Harry apparated back into the living room. Ron working as he ate his bacon, eggs, at the table. Gia working a bit at oatmeal. Hermione shuffled the paper.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Problem Solver
Face it Wizarding World, it's time to vote with your purse, express your dissatisfaction with the vileness that has crept back into our lives. You thought the Boy Who Lived was your salvation, you wish that were true but know it's not. We need to banish this blemish and disease from our lives, to return to the wonderful world of magic we all know and love.
Eximo Macula is proud to help administer these rewards for removal of known threats to the wizarding community.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Shouldn't Have Lived. 593K galleons.
Ronald Weasley, Kiss Up King. 397K galleons.
Hermione Granger, Wannabe Dark Queen. 261K galleons.
Gia Prescott, Muggle Cock Holster aka Potter's pet. 213K galleons.
Remus Lupin, Rabid Werewolf. 2.3k galleons.
Rita Skeeter, Quill Slaughterer. 1.9k galleons.
Bonus of 10,000 galleons per relation or friendship severed.
Removal of these problems would be greatly appreciated. All wagers and contributions can be sent to "Bye Bye". To claim a reward, submit relevant documentation.
"She's on their hit list?" Harry said, "She's done nothing—"
"Except try to exonerate us," Hermione said.
Harry glanced to Gia.
"Way I figure," Gia said, "EM has no remorse to the lives they ruin. I fail to see the difference between them and Death Eaters."
"I'd say the top member is You–Know–Who," Ron said.
Harry snorted.
"One…" Gia bolted, she rushed across the living room.
Fast feet to the steps.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Follow," Hermione said.
Harry went fast, apparated upstairs, as Gia bent over the toilet. She hurled into the toilet bowl. Harry went fast down to his knees, wrapped his arms around her midriff.
"Um…" Harry muttered, as his mind searched for reasons, "Pregnant?…"
"Not that," Gia said, "Don't feel well."
Gia hurled again.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted as he stood.
Hermione was already on the steps, stood at the top, in the door frame.
"See there's a complication with the birth control…" Hermione started.
Harry spotted the jest within her brown eyes.
"Sorry," Hermione said, "Nothing serious, should likely be better tomorrow."
"School?" Gia asked.
Gia hurled once more.
"Even if I trusted Madam Pomfrey," Harry said, "Hogwarts isn't—"
"Don't even think of apparating her anywhere," Hermione said.
"Wanna stay home?" Ron asked, on the stairs behind Hermione.
Hermione glared.
"Sure—we don't show up," Harry said, "No…DOBBY!"
"Dobby is happy to help Harry Potter," said the House–Elf that appeared in the lavatory.
Harry turned his head toward Dobby.
"I need to trust Gia with you today," Harry said, "Protect her and tend to her, until I return. Understood?"
"Dobby is good House Elf," Dobby said, "Dobby will do as Master Harry Potter wishes."
"Thank you," Harry said.
Harry helped her back up, to her feet. She leaned on him, as he brought her back into the bedroom.
"Maybe we should set the Portkeys to Hagrid's Hut," Ron said, later in the corridors of Hogwarts, "Save us a walk and safer spot to start the day."
Harry renewed his disillusionment, as did Ron and Hermione.
"Inlusio!" Neville said, who also walked with them.
Cool air on the cusp of a drizzle, Harry left the castle. Ron, Hermione, and Neville with him as their disillusionments dropped.
"Got a good surprise for yeh," Hagrid said, coming up the trail, "Hoped to catch you in the castle."
"It's up there?" Harry asked.
"This way," Hagrid said.
"Wonder what the surprise is," Ron whispered to Harry.
"Better than whatever's in the corridors," Harry replied.
"So true," Ron said.
They approached Hagrid's Hut. Harry thought he heard a scream, his eyes glanced about.
"What's this?" Hagrid asked.
Hagrid approached a big crate, big even for Hagrid, in front of the hut, with "Hagrid" painted against the brown wood. It rattled, and Harry felt an eerily familiar sucking on his mind.
"Your surprise?" Harry asked.
"Can't be," Hagrid said, "That's in the woods."
More rattling from the crate, as Hagrid grabbed a pry bar. Harry's wand to his hand, the screaming that returned.
"Don't open it!" Harry snapped.
Hagrid pushed the pry bar beneath the lid. Neville joined as Harry, Ron, and Hermione backed away. Neville drew his wand. Ron's and Hermione's in their hands.
"Nonsense," Hagrid said, "Can't know without—"
"No!" Harry snapped.
"Nothing I can't handle," Hagrid said, the confidence as he pried.
Harry recognized the scream, his mother's.
"STOP!" Harry shouted, "WE'VE—"
Hagrid's pry bar finished the job.
POP! Flutter! Flutter!
Lid that moved up and hit Hagrid to the ground. A lid that was the key to let all sides fall open, to show the tightly packed crate, full of dark creatures. Bat like wings, they flew fast and furious, spread out as a plague. Harry felt the soul sucking effect on him.
"Run!" Harry snapped.
A large number flew toward Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville. Heads without eyes, a gaping hole for a mouth sucking in the air. A large swarm.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry shouted.
Out shot the stag, Harry's patronus, that charged the creatures fast, the numbers seemed to grow, more than should've fit in the crate. Quickly, the stag was devoured.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Ron shouted.
Hermione shouted with her wand. Neville did too, though nothing came out of his.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry shouted.
Again, a stag shot out, quickly devoured. Hermione tried a shield charm, enough they could turn. Harry jumped onto his broom, up and a U–turn, aimed.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry shouted.
A super charged patronus, the extra bright white stag, deteriorated as the swarms of the bats came to feed upon it. Ron, Hermione, and Neville ran toward the castle. Harry caught a glimpse of Hagrid making for the forest.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry shouted again, flew in circles to follow with his friends below.
Each one of the bats began to spread off, the hordes that headed for the castle, toward the greenhouses. Harry jumped off the broom, banished it as they entered the castle. Together, they slammed the front doors closed, Harry secured the latch, and the rest of the cross braces went into place.
"Phew," Harry said.
Dropping down from the rafter above, one flew straight for Harry, jaws wide open. Screams, the shockwaves of spreading destruction again filled Harry's head, the creature drawing on Harry's soul as it approached.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Ron shouted.
Green struck the creature an inch away from Harry's lips. It tumbled to the ground. Ron reached, picked it up by a leg, held it up, the three foot wingspan obvious.
"How'd one cross a demeantor with a bat?" Ron asked.
"Felt like one," Harry said.
"That looks nasty," Neville said.
"That crate was full of them," Hermione said.
Harry felt a slight wobble to his feet.
"Slow way we go," Harry said, pointed.
Ron carried the dead creature with his left hand as they went up the stairs into the Entrance Hall. Harry spotted Professor McGonagall at the top of the marble staircase.
"STOP!"
Harry turned around, Auror Archer's wand aimed at them. A glance, the thought, that wand flew into Harry's hand.
"Thanks for that spare," Harry said as he took the step toward the Auror, aimed the wand to the chin. "I'll tell you. We have a situation, which Professor McGonagall also wants to know. Every student needs to be confined within the castle, perhaps their dormitories so you can start there."
Archer spat.
"I suggest you and your competent group of Aurors focus on the thousands of those flying demeantors—target practice," Harry said, "As to me, since I know the Minister's likely going to suspend me, we're going to the Headmaster's office. I suggest you get working on the pest control."
Harry handed Archer his wand back. A turn, went up the marble stairs; Neville, Ron, and Hermione with him. He was halfway on those stairs.
"Assaulting an Auror is sufficient reason," Archer said.
Harry turned around, stopped on the stairs.
"Four against one?" Harry said, "Poor odds. Suggest you tackle the things flying around outside, first. I'll keep, or kiss my arse."
Harry backed up the stairs.
"STUPEFY!" Archer shouted.
Harry's wand in his hand, the shield charm that deflected it.
"I HATE killing," Harry snapped, wand that flicked.
Archer slammed backward, against the wall, the wand that fell onto a platform and vanished in a puff of green. Archer's eyes down, Harry cast the Disillusionment on the four.
"Good banishment," Neville said, "Not a prefect so I can't award points."
"I've avoided that embarrassment too," Ron said.
"Tend not to be around much," Hermione said, "Have a feeling we won't be either."
They came to the second floor Stone Gargoyle. Ron and Hermione stepped on the stairs.
"Write—maybe do something for the holiday," Harry said to Neville, "You join us here and you're suspended. Think you'll do more good at Hogwarts."
Harry shook Neville's hand, jumped on. They entered the office.
"Here," Ron said as he dropped the dead creature on the Headmaster's desk, before the Headmaster. "There's a bunch of them flying about."
Harry heard the thud above, one that hit a window. A glance to the blue eyes that examined the creature.
"Professor McGonagall's taking measures," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Maybe this is why they really waited," Harry said, "Suppose…they could've had trouble with the delivery or something."
"Murders also bring in extra scrutiny," Professor Dumbledore said, "Too many and a real investigation would have to happen, especially in light of your recent publicity."
"It was a big crate," Ron said, "Hagrid—"
"I tried telling him to stop," Harry said, "But it definitely had something alive in it."
The Headmaster gave a guarded, weak grin for a brief moment, returned to his emotionless face.
"I'll have to wait for Hagrid for a better opinion on this serious and dangerous breeding," Professor Dumbledore said, "As to you, classes are moot today. However, the Minister is coming. Unfortunately for reasons of security, the floo platforms had to be disabled, first."
"You made him walk," Ron said.
Another guarded grin, his hand trembled on the cane.
"We're suspended," Hermione said.
"Hide and do not show," Professor Dumbledore said.
Ron and Hermione cast their disillusionment. Harry cast the Invisibility, went around and sat in the chair. Sweeping motion of the doors that swung open; in emerald green, Professor McGonagall entered first, followed by the Minister in sky blue robes and two Aurors. Eyes that went to the creature on the desk.
"Quite dead," the Headmaster said.
Harry spotted the concern that Auror Buckland had.
"Minerva," Professor Dumbledore asked, "Status?"
"Almost…" Professor McGonagall shook, the sadness in her eyes.
"Perhaps—" Minister Fallerschain said.
"Silence!" the Headmaster snapped, his hands that steadied himself on his cane, "Give our Deputy Headmistress a chance to collect her thoughts. Minerva?"
"With the exception of one student and one teacher," Professor McGonagall said, "All students and teachers are safe and accounted for. Immediately implementing Mr. Potter's suggestions helped significantly."
"Rubbish," Minister Fallerschain said, "Potter likely—"
"Silence!" Professor Dumbledore snapped.
Professor McGonagall shook for a moment.
"Hagrid's whereabouts are unknown," Professor McGonagall said, "One of these had slipped into the greenhouse, while it was killed by a hunting knife, it was too late for one student who'd gotten kissed." She took a deep breath. "Owen Cauldwell, a third year Hufflepuff, lost his mind, his soulless body is in the Hospital Wing."
"I appreciate your report," the Headmaster said, "I will contact his family, determine what their wishes are.
Professor Dumbledore turned to the Minister, whose eyes showed the disdain they bore for all things Harry.
"You may proceed with your assessment Minister," Dumbledore said.
"A clear case of experimental breeding of dangerous creatures," Minister Fallerschain said, "Auror Gairloch reported witnessing your Hagrid opening the crate with some assistance from Potter and his friends. He also reported seeing Hagrid flee into the woods. It is reasonable to arrest and detain Hagrid upon his return. Potter and his friends are hereby suspended for a week as conspirators to today's tragedy."
Harry understood.
"Hagrid's only certain involvement is in opening the crate," said Professor Dumbledore, "I heard that Hagrid was surprised by the sudden appearance of it, however, it's within his character to ignore caution and common sense, opened it anyways."
"That's for the investigation to determine," the Minister said, "Rubeus Hagrid is well known for keeping and breeding dangerous creatures, his record is against him. One student kissed did you say Professor McGonagall?"
Professor McGonagall nodded.
"His family will demand answers, and so I will get them," the Minister said, "Hagrid will be detained and interrogated. You may be present for that. I suspect charges and a trial will result…I suspect you have this creature on your desk for a reason."
The Minister stepped up, the disgust behind those eyes apparent.
"One of the students managed to kill it," Professor Dumbledore said, "Seemed prudent to know what we're dealing with. Killing curses are effective, so is a a good knife. A patronus would work against a few, feeble against the numbers flying around Hogwarts. I hope suitable actions have been taken in Hogsmeade to stymie further casualties."
"I must tend to this…this horror," Minister Fallerschain said, "I repeat, however, that Potter and his friends are suspended for a week."
"I heard you Minister," Professor Dumbledore said, "I will settle that matter quickly after you depart."
Both aurors walked with Minister Fallerschain, left the office. Harry spotted the relief behind the Headmaster's eyes.
"Shall I get Mr. Potter now?" Professor McGonagall asked.
Harry dropped his Invisibility Charm, waved from the Headmaster's chair. Her eyes that understood.
"I'm grateful you kept your temper in check," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Ten points for that," Professor McGonagall said.
"For I doubt the Minister would appreciate our new Headmaster," Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry shook his head.
"We have a crisis," Professor McGonagall said, "How should we handle it Mr. Potter?"
Harry glanced at Professor Dumbledore.
"I've apparently been replaced," Professor Dumbledore said, "About time, I'm overdue for a retirement. Good Luck Mr. Potter."
Harry stood, moved. "There is a crisis," Professor McGonagall said as she turned. She left the office.
Ron and Hermione stepped out of disillusion. Ron snorted, snickered, and smiled at Harry.
"My hopes for a retirement dashed?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
"Bit early for you both," Ron said.
A cough, Professor Dumbledore consulted the calendar.
"A week with the holiday," the Headmaster said, "Means Tuesday after Easter, April eighth."
"Cauldwell?" Harry asked
"If the report's right, his soul's already been digested," Professor Dumbledore said, "If it's too late, euthanasia's the most humane thing."
Harry examined the creature a bit more.
"Who'd even breed these?" Harry said, "Sure Hagrid remembers Azkaban too much to even approach a demeantor, let alone breed it with a bat."
"There are methods, potions, to allow just about anything to mate," Professor Dumbledore said. A moment, the hand to the beard, the consideration. "This'd require a dark potion…likely muggle blood's required."
Hermione turned away from the desk, puked. Ron reached, held her sides, and pulled her back up. Her shoulder to his arm, her head to his shoulder, and his hand behind her.
"I'm grateful you're horrified by it," the Headmaster said, "I suspect there's a short maturation time after release. If you had waited, you would've been drowned by it."
"It was bad enough," Harry said, "So, think this was attempted murder, or frame–up? With Hagrid?"
"I do not have those answers, yet," said Professor Dumbledore, "I'll keep you up to date. In the meanwhile, suggest you depart before the Minister returns…he's approaching."
Harry sighed as Ron got out his Portkey. A touch, the jerk behind the naval, they were pulled away.
"Dammit!" Harry exclaimed.
Harry's anger began to rise as his mind processed it all. His feet touched the carpet, and his feet already moved. Harry bolted halfway up the stairs, the magical rope around him. Ron's hands gripped Harry's shoulders.
"Don't!" Harry protested.
"Stop!" Ron said.
Ron spun Harry around, blue eyes that tried to drill inward. Harry drilled back, the concern for Harry was the only thing that filled Ron's mind, the focus on Harry.
"Talk's not going to help Hagrid," Harry snapped.
"Tell Gia," Ron said, "Help Hermione—she's stressed too."
"Not the same," Harry snapped.
"Doesn't matter it's different," Ron said, "Think Hagrid'd like us to fight?"
Harry shook his head.
"I can't make treacle fudge," Ron said, "At least lets go for tea."
Harry stepped fast past, his shoulder brushed hard against Ron's arm. Ron spun, stepped fast. Harry groaned, turned back to Ron.
"Always following me!" Harry snapped.
"Your tendency to…overreact?" Ron said, "Need to think? I can keep quiet."
"Really?" Harry said, "You don't trust me!"
Ron took the last couple steps, hands to Harry's shoulders.
"Frankly, no, not with this," Ron said, "Everything else, I can. When I worry, I follow, period."
Harry breathed, his eyes glared at Ron's.
"Wish you'd stop following," Harry said.
"Understand how much I do love you," Ron said, "If I were as suicidal as you've been, I'd want you to do the same for me. I do care about you, and I can trust you with my life, Hermione's, anybody else's but your own, not yet."
"I talked with Gia weeks ago," Harry said.
"You did a lot of damage," Ron said, "It'll take time until we can trust you again, a long time. What were you considering?"
Harry took a moment, unsure.
"We rescue Hagrid," Harry said, "Bring him somewhere—spare bedroom because the Minister's convinced to the guilt."
"Make Hagrid a fugitive?" Ron said, "That's something we should discuss with Hermione, first."
"Always Hermione—" Harry said.
"When in doubt, ask Hermione," Ron said, "She's our friend too, stuck in this, her brain likely has a better idea."
"I'll take that approval," Hermione said as she stepped out of disillusion, "Twas a bit curious."
Harry waved. Hermione crossed her arms.
"I could wank him," Ron said, "Mellow him out."
"Let's go with the tea," Harry said.
"I'll check on her," Hermione said as she started up the stairs.
Harry followed Ron back out into the kitchen area. Ron started the kettle, and spun around. Ron leaned back against the one counter; Harry sat at the dining table.
"Place is swarming with those…creatures," Ron said, "Until you've got something better, I say let the Ministry handle them. Hagrid's shown us a lot of creatures, these aren't his."
Harry shook his head.
"First time I say kill the lot," Ron said, "Until they're gone, we haven't a prayer of entering the forest and finding Hagrid."
Harry shook his head, again.
"Though it'd be funny watching the Ministry tangle with the spiders," Ron said.
A whistle from the kettle. Ron turned, lifted the kettle, and turned to carry it over. Harry took the cup from the center, added a scoop of tea leaves, and poured hot water into it.
"How many thousands were there?" Ron asked, leaning back against the mini bar counter that separated the two areas, the dining from the kitchen.
Harry shook his head, the scar that flared as Gia and Hermione walked across the living room. Harry watched through eyes under concealment.
Robes and the charm kept the eyes away from the ranks of Ministry Aurors who stood around the pit. In the middle, the remains of a large dead spider within the sea of hundreds of smaller ones, and Hagrid who cried.
"ARAGOG!" Hagrid sobbed.
Auror Buckland approached him.
"Rubeus Hagrid," Auror Buckland said, "Sorry, but you're under arrest. You understand why."
Hagrid sobbed a bit more. Auror Buckland offered a large handkerchief, which Hagrid took. Hagrid used it, both vanished.
Harry's hand left his forehead, Gia now sitting at the table sipping at a bit of tea.
"It's too late," Harry said, "They killed the spiders, arrested Hagrid, and Voldemort was there to watch."
Hermione gasped. Harry stood, held her tight, bushy hair to his shoulder.
"I'm guessing that's why you're home early?" Gia said, "All I got from Hermione were questions about my health."
"She's fine," Hermione whispered, "Being cautious…and how often do I get to actually use those charms?"
Harry snorted, held her.
"Mind if I cut in?" Ron asked.
Harry let Hermione loose, sat down next to Gia. Harry reached over, pulled the tea cup over, and sipped at it.
"Yeah," Harry said, "It's…gotta hand it to them. Today was definitely different. No beatings, no outright killing. Still."
Harry went on to explain the bats, the response.
"It's disgusting," Gia said, "Never understood demeantors."
"Ministry uses them for torture and execution," Ron said, "Guard Azkaban too."
Harry heard the drop in the mail cauldron.
"Likely don't want to read it," Harry said.
Hermione got up, went over, picked up the letter, and returned. She opened the envelope addressed the them and read. She handed the letter to Ron, and sat at the table. Ron handed it to Gia, who read it with Harry.
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Harry, Ron, and Hermione
Minister Fallerschain informed me that his Aurors were able to arrest Hagrid. Hagrid was understandably upset during his interrogation. The Minister claimed there is sufficient evidence to press charges. Hagrid's being detained in Azkaban until trial, either late April or early May, to give us adequate time to prepare a defense.
Albus Dumbledore
"Harry," Gia said, "I love you."
"Yet we're sitting on our arses!" Harry stood. "We have to do something!"
Harry turned to the window, it's frosted glass cleared enough for him to stare out at the back, the grass to the trees.
"What'd you have in mind?" Hermione asked.
Harry turned around, leaned against the perch. Hedwig hopped onto his shoulder.
"We take the blame," Harry said, "Call Hagrid an innocent bystander, that this was some sort of joke of ours that got out of hand. Something that would get Hagrid off the hook. They believe us to be Dark Wizards, might as well use that."
Harry summoned the tea cup back to him, drank at it, as he glanced at the three pair of eyes on him. Skepticism behind each pair.
"How soon until they knock that theory out?" Hermione said, "We're blatant and habitual liars to them. Hagrid is known to be your friend as he is to most of the people attending Hogwarts."
Harry sipped at the tea, drained it. He glanced at the leaves at the bottom, figured they were all the grim, somehow.
"Get Hagrid?" Harry said, "Why? I know that not everybody is ecstatic about his choice of pets, but why?"
"At least Hagrid's getting a trial," Ron said, "Likely a fair one at that—too many people would object otherwise."
Anger and the understanding came to Harry fast, he threw the tea cup onto the floor, it shattered into many pieces.
"He's screwing me over!" Harry said, "Once again, Voldemort shafted Hagrid the same as fifty years ago. Any guesses to how he's getting the muggle blood? And we now have these new demeantor bats terrorizing Hogwarts until they're all eliminated, assuming we can ever be certain."
Harry's wand aimed, the cup came back together, and it returned up to his hands.
"Why make me a mere conspirator?" Harry asked.
"Minister's being manipulated as usual," Ron said, "So likely, his plant has yet to suggest—"
"Fuck!" Harry said, "Here, I was—"
"Ready to confess," Hermione said, "Your execution would be mightily easy to justify with a signed confession, from you, that you committed Dark Arts to breed these creatures."
"Hagrid, poor Hagrid," Harry said, "Would a confession get him off the hook? We'd have to quit Hogwarts, become fugitives, but it'd save Hagrid."
"Would Hagrid want you to sacrifice yourself for him?" Hermione said, "We need facts first."
Gia nodded.
"I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try everything I could to rescue him," Harry said, "We must do something, even writing a note to the Daily Prophet would be better."
"Talk to Skeeter?" Ron said, "She'd have a better idea as we're proverbial liars, something that doesn't result in shafting Hagrid worse."
"Whatever you decide," Hermione said, "Let's keep our heads."
Harry's hand on Ron's, he apparated them both into Coach Meyer's office early that afternoon. The coach at his desk, the papers beneath his hand. Ron stumbled, the foot hit the guest chair.
"Excuse me!" Coach Meyers snapped.
Eyes that took in Harry and Ron both there.
"Sorry," Harry said, "We needed to come—unnoticed, well, except by you."
"Floo powder?" Coach Meyers said.
"Not an option," Harry said, reading into those eyes, "Apparation points outside the stadium? Are those being watched?"
"Portkeys?" Coach Meyers said.
"Maybe," Harry said, "Spend a day in our shoes—you'd understand. Even here, I worry."
"Also," Coach Meyers said, "Mind telling me how you made it past the apparation wards? Crafted by the finest in the business."
"Harry's got a way—it's why I hitched with him," Ron said, "We came to practice, you seemed interested in us doing that."
Harry understood the diversion attempt.
"We'll setup a point for safe apparation," Coach Meyers said.
"Suppose janitorial closets can work," Harry said.
Coach Meyers glanced at the clock.
"A bit early," Coach Meyers said.
"Might be in The Evening Prophet," Ron said, "Definitely in tomorrow's The Daily Prophet."
Coach Meyers put on his jacket as he went for the door, stopped.
"Hope it wasn't nothing serious," Coach Meyers said.
"It was," Harry said, "Not us, but we're getting the heat for it."
Coach Meyers kept the door closed.
"We're keeping quiet on why you're really here," Coach Meyers said, "Aside from Wood, no other player knows you're bumping two, nor are they to know about your offers until camp."
"We'll get noticed," Harry said. Ron nodded.
"They'll ask." Coach Meyers paused. "So, due to circumstances beyond your control, you're unable to get in any real practice at Hogwarts."
"True," Ron said.
"As a favor to Dumbledore," Coach Meyers said, "We're providing you both supplemental training sessions, and Coach Kline gets some willing subjects to try out his training regime."
"Um…" Harry muttered.
"You'll be able to do gymnastics on a broom," Coach Meyers said, "Which I understand you need."
"Sure, love to see Harry do this," Ron said, "Get better in bed too."
"He means you too," Harry said.
"Oh," Ron said.
Coach Meyers opened the door, escorted them out of the office, and down the stairs.
…
Ron walked with Harry along the corridor in blue and white.
"Choose lockers first," said Coach Meyers, "Undress, I'll be there in a moment."
Harry and Ron went for the locker room entrance.
"Undress?" Harry muttered, "Strip?"
A hard right into the U–bend of lockers, a bench in the middle. Ron went to an empty locker, next to Fred and George, his name inscribed itself on the locker. Harry chose the next one, same thing.
"Suppose he's bringing practice uniforms," Ron lied.
Ron opened his locker, pulled his shirt off, and hung it onto the hook on the right side.
"Sounds right," Harry said.
Harry opened the locker, stripped next to Ron, all the way down until they were starkers.
"Thank you gentlemen," said Coach Meyers as he entered, "Might've missed the introduction. This is Notley, the team Healer."
Next to the coach, the tall brown haired starkers man with chest hair, and a wand strapped to his right wrist with not quite a proper holster.
"Professional Quidditch is rough so every player is required to have routine examinations, weekly," Coach Meyers said, "As you were under Madam Pomfrey's care last time, we were able to accept her records. However, as I understand it, you fired her."
As soon as Harry turned, Ron grabbed Harry's shoulders, held him still.
"If you wish to hire an accredited Healer on your own coin," Coach Meyers said, "That may be acceptable, but they will still have to keep Mr. Notley up to date to your current health."
Ron pushed Harry, and Harry's feet walked the short distance into the room. A small room of light blue paint, a window of sunshine to a country landscape. Shelves with medical supplies lined the room, around the examination table in the middle.
"In this room I expect candor and openness," said Notley, "I understood you might have issues, so I'm demonstrating what I'll do for my patients to put them at ease."
A final shove, Ron pushed Harry all the way into the room.
"Weekly checkups have saved more than one player's life," Notley said, "And spared many from embarrassments."
"A professional player cooperates," Coach Meyers said, "Examinations with a clean bill of health before I can allow practice. I otherwise respect your privacy, so Notley will give me a thumbs up or thumbs down."
"Try it," Ron said to Harry.
Coach Meyers left.
"Harry can go first," Notley said, "Know you're eager to practice."
Ron closed the door, wand out, cast the Imperturbment Charm against the door.
"As you wish," Notley said.
Ron caught the curiosity to where Ron's wand was hiding.
"Precaution," Ron said, "Now it's between us."
"Step on the scale," Notley said.
Harry stood still. Ron grabbed Harry by the armpits, lifted. Harry's feet flipped for a moment, before he went onto the scale. It measured his height, weight, and many more numbers. Notley held the clipboard as he jotted down the numbers with the pen in his left fingers. Concern came to those eyes, fast.
"You're seriously underweight," Notley said, "We need to address that first."
"I feel fine," Harry protested as he stood there.
"Numbers only confirm what I can see." Notley pointed at the rib cage with his right fingers, skin partly wrapped around. "Should be fuller, for instance." Notley held up his wand in his left. "Got zero fat, it's unhealthy."
"Fat like Dudley," Harry grumbled as he stepped off the scale.
"Not obese," Ron said, "Even my Mum thought you too thin."
Harry's glare obvious at Ron. Ron pushed Harry to sit on the examination table.
"It's supposed to be private!" Harry snapped.
"Who'll chase you when you bolt?" Ron asked.
"I meant you snooping!" Harry said.
"We share a bed!" Ron said, "I'm ensuring you go through with this."
Harry glared, Ron returned it.
"Not like we're trying to fatten you up for your execution," Ron said, "I want you strong enough so there isn't one. And he can help!"
Ron pointed at Notley who stood there, the chest with light muscle, a stomach.
"I'm most certainly not dead," Harry said.
"It should have already happened," Notley said, tapping on his clipboard with the pen in his left fingers, "Yes, your numbers are that bad. Chronic malnutrition and starvation. What have you eaten today?"
"Um…" Harry muttered.
Harry's eyes wandered back to Ron, to Notley, unsure.
"I'll answer," Ron said.
A sharp glare from Harry's bottle green eyes.
"Don't," Harry warned.
"I am," Ron replied.
Notley clicked the pen in his left hand, up and back, readied it on the chart.
"Today—tea," Ron said, "Yesterday—"
"Steak and eggs for breakfast," Harry said.
Notley wrote to the sheet of paper.
"Saturday?" Ron asked, "Friday? Thursday?"
"Yes," Harry said, "Thursday."
"It's Monday—you've had one meal since Thursday," Ron said, "You've got a problem, and I'm not the healer." Ron pointed. "He is, and he can give it a fancy name."
"Called Anorexia, it's a eating disorder," Notley said, "Ignore the fact this disqualifies you from Quidditch, it'll disqualify you from life."
"I'm being executed," Harry grumbled.
"Don't volunteer," Ron said.
"Even Madam Pomfrey was concerned on her charts," Notley said, "You've lost weight since then. If you're unable to say with confidence your last meal was this morning or last night, you're definitely not eating, not nearly enough, which leads to this vitamin deficiency I'm seeing. This must be corrected for your sake, period."
Harry opened his mouth.
"Thank you," Ron said to Notley, "You can be assured he'll get assistance on this faster than he can say D–o–b–b–y."
"You wouldn't!" Harry protested.
Ron glared at Harry.
"I promise to," Ron said.
"Should've brought him in sooner," Notley said.
"Any idiot can see—" Ron poked at Harry's ribs. "The problem. Getting him in—the Quidditch prize's been required."
"You knew this'd happen!" Harry grouched at Ron.
"Yes," Ron said, "You've got a fiancee who'll back me up."
"Your friend's looking out for you," Notley said to Harry, "Otherwise it'd only be a matter of time. Brittle bones, the hair loss, very unattractive for dating."
Notley flipped through the chart.
"Strange—Madam Pomfrey first noted this years ago," Notley said, "She wanted to do more, but she was overruled."
Ron leaned back, sank onto the chair, and focused on Harry.
"How much did she know?" Ron asked.
"Chronically underweight for his age and height," Notley said, "She should've initiated intervention with his guardians—an aunt and uncle."
"Would've made matters worse," Ron said, "Right Harry?"
Harry remained silent.
"Leave that off the chart," Ron said, "Can we go for the examination, practice?"
"We'll come back to that," Notley said, "Now, the first examination is comprehensive, everything."
Harry squirmed on the table, his hands went over his crotch.
"We need privacy assurances," Ron said.
Harry glared at Ron.
"He's already figured it out—last week," Ron said, "He ain't a Healer if he couldn't, and we need one."
"One slip—" Harry protested.
"A matter of trust?" Notley asked.
Ron caught Harry's glare.
"How much are you hiding?" Harry demanded.
"I'm starkers!" Ron snapped.
"Examinations are required prior to practice," Notley said, "However, I understand I'm a stranger to you. Extra incentive, follow, but do not fly."
Notley led the way, a double left, to the box that was open to the Quidditch Pitch. Blades between their toes, they walked onto the grass. High above, the sun that came through the open roof.
"It's a fall that can be deadly," Notley said, "You know the risks of Quidditch, I need to know what I'm putting back together, and that you have the ability to withstand the damage it can do."
Notley turned to Harry and Ron.
"Gentlemen—and I can see you're otherwise fine gentlemen," Notley said, "I've got an idea to melt the ice."
Ron spotted the idea behind the eyes, understood, unsure to how much Harry picked up.
"Loiter on the ground," Notley continued, "Or take a peek around the facilities, and meet me upstairs in the clubhouse in—say ten or twenty or even thirty minutes?"
"We'll be up there," Ron promised.
Harry glared at Ron as Notley went back in.
"YOU!" Harry snapped at Ron.
"Face it," Ron said, "We need a Healer, we need one, I need one, you need one. We used to have Pomfrey—you know her standing orders. Give this bloke a chance, I'll get a background on him."
Ron turned Harry around.
"If it helps," Ron said, "I'll blow you."
They went back into the box, took the hard left into the small unguarded cubicle with a single toilet.
"Guessing for a fast one in game?" Harry asked.
"Don't see why they bother," Ron said, "Take a dump from up there, sure the fans would love that."
Ron took out the small coin from his holster, tapped it.
"That?" Harry asked.
"Percy!" Ron said.
A moment.
"Percy!" Ron said.
Percy's head showed.
"You caught me in a meeting," Percy grumbled.
"Need background for a Benjamin Notley," Ron said, "Team healer for Puddlemere United."
"May I ask why?" Percy asked.
"Please?" Ron said, "Fast as you can? You're my most favorite brother."
Harry snorted.
"Best Head Boy Hogwarts ever had," Ron said.
"This may take time," Percy said.
"Thank you," Ron said, "Owe you plenty. Love you!"
Percy's head vanished.
"Layering it thick," Harry said.
"This is for you," Ron said as he turned for Harry, "Understand that, it's for you." Ron's right index finger pushed center of Harry's chest between the nipples. "I want you healthy—maybe unhealthy is what got us executed?"
Harry glared.
"Anything more doctor?" Harry snapped.
"No…think that's it," Ron said.
"Sure you don't want to spill my bedwetting?" Harry asked.
"Need me to divulge more to him?" Ron asked.
Harry shook his head.
"Your eating habits are killing you," Ron said, "And I won't put up with that, so this ends now."
Harry glared.
"Need I talk to Gia?" Ron asked.
"No," Harry muttered.
"They're talking about us," Ron said, "Let's go and listen in."
A pat to Harry, they walked back through the locker room. Up the stairs into the club room. Voices drifted from Coach Meyer's office, the door slightly cracked open, the shadowed outline of Coach Meyers to the other side of the translucent panel.
"…unwilling to complete the examination," Notley said, "Getting Potter's weight was a chore, which confirmed what I'd suspected. It's a serious problem, one that must be addressed, and Quidditch is the key."
Harry and Ron stood nearby.
"I'll order them with a bit more force," Coach Meyers said.
Ron shook his head, turned and studied the trophy case as he listened, Harry's reflection in the glass.
"Unwise Darrell, unwise," Notley said, "Their last healer broke their trust with castration and aiding in their torture, and you're expecting them to blindly jump in with a Healer they barely know?" Paper slid on a desk. "A million to their heads, so they have every right to be nervous and paranoid—remember that crazed fan onto you? It's undoubtedly worse for them."
"What's your bright idea?" Coach Meyers asked.
"Give them time to trust," Notley said, "More beneficial to me, to you, and to them. I see why he applied the pressure to bring them on, the game's a carrot, the reason is me."
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"I explained to him what'll happen once it hits the paper," Coach Meyers said, "It'd make sense. It's Potter, that's your concern?"
Harry glared at Ron in the reflection.
"I suspect Weasley's okay," Notley said, "Potter's anorexic, and his magic's the best explanation for it not killing him…yet. It's why wizards can hold on longer, a muggle would already be dead."
"See?" Ron whispered.
"In home stay—mean they're students," Notley said, "Recruit Oliver Wood or another player if that'd help."
"Dunno about this," Harry muttered.
"I could go, a night at Hogwarts," Coach Meyers said, "Heard it's special."
Ron went over to Harry, hand to the shoulder.
"Give them a chance," Ron said "Just Notley, we can handle one."
"Depends on them," Notley said, "We should talk…or…"
"Still," Harry muttered.
"Boot him if he gives trouble," Ron said, "It's your house."
A turn of the knob, the door opened. Coach Meyer's eyes were on Harry and Ron.
"You were told—" Coach Meyers started.
"Saves us a conversation," said Notley, "Come on in boys!"
Ron pushed, Harry entered the office first, Ron stood there to face the desk. Notley dressed in white shirt, blue shorts behind the desk. Coach Meyers closed the door, with him inside the office.
"I'd like to spend the night at Hogwarts," Notley said, "In observation of you, and some talk too."
"Um…" Harry muttered.
Ron aimed his wand, cast the Imperturbment Charm on the door.
"You're paranoid," Coach Meyers said.
"Constant vigilance," Ron said, "A million galleons teaches that."
Notley's eyes studied their faces. Ron studied those eyes, ones that could tell the twinkling from both Harry's and Ron's. A panic within Notley's eyes that dwarfed all other concerns, of two people in need of help, one that could cut himself off from all medical help.
"I want to break the stalemate," Notley said, "It'd be useful to understand you before I go issuing blind prescriptions. I think you've had plenty of those."
Harry nodded.
"You signed, makes you members of this team," Coach Meyers said, "I plan to invest time and money to build up the talents within you. Therefore, your health and welfare is my concern, both as a coach and I hope it becomes personal too."
"Don't even think of asking Darrell for help with a sneeze, he'll amputate or worse," Notley said, "Thus, he defers health issues to me. I'll report what he needs to know—like severe anorexia, otherwise, I guard the privacy of my patients."
Ron studied those eyes. Notley stood.
"If I don't live up to my promises," Notley said, "I believe you know the charm. Castrate me."
Ron glanced at Harry's eyes, back to Notley's.
"I'm serious, it's stronger than a wizard's oath," Notley said, "Castrate me if I fail, and I'll have an awkward future. I'll also know I failed my Hippocratic oath. Does that help?"
"Um…" Harry muttered.
"I expect results," Coach Meyers said.
"Not like that," Notley said to the coach.
"Issues are…complicated," Ron said.
"That's why I want to come back to Hogwarts with you," Notley said, "A cot in your dormitory—"
"Except you won't find us there," Harry said, "It's also unsafe until they contain those demeantor bats."
Ron readily caught the disbelief in both pairs of eyes.
"Demeantors or bats?" Coach Meyers asked.
"Somebody decided to mate the two!" Harry exclaimed.
"Nice surprise," Ron grumbled.
"We're suspended," Harry said, "Not staying at Hogwarts."
"Where?" Notley asked.
"I've been commuting since the start of term," Harry said, "I lost count of the times I'd be at home—or with you, and the impostors attacked."
Ron caught the understanding within the Coach's eyes.
"If you wish to spend the night," Harry said, "You're welcome to. However, you leave with us."
Notley bent over, lifted the duffel bag from the floor next to the desk.
"First," Notley said, "Lemme complete the tour—this way."
Ron understood the sleight of hand, the destination.
"Come along," Ron said to Harry.
A twist of the door knob, Notley led them out. Ron and Harry followed, turned left at the corridor, entered the clubhouse. Coach Meyers entered a minute later.
"Sit," Notley said, pointed at the table, four seats, "Give me a moment."
Ron nudged down on Harry to sit, and Ron sat to Harry's left. Notley went over to the counter, returned with a couple of trays. On each one, a plate with meatballs and pasta, along with orange juice.
"Mind?" Notley asked the coach as he sat across from Harry.
Coach Meyers went over, the blue sweats, the white T–shirt beneath the matching jacket. He returned with two trays, set one to Notley, the other to himself as he sat. Coach Meyers began to eat into his plate, worked at the pasta.
"Nothing's as annoying as a Weasley on a lifesaving vendetta," Harry said.
"Thank you," Ron said to Harry.
Ron took a fork, worked into the meatballs on his plate, ate. Notley pulled out two pills, a large pink and a smaller green pill.
"This…" Notley held up the large pink pill. "Multivitamin, simple, available most places. And this…" he held up the green pill. "Appetite enhancer."
"Take your health seriously," Coach Meyers said to Harry.
"Or we can take that plate home," Ron said, "Slice the meatballs, stick them on Gia, let you eat from her."
Harry glared at Ron.
"Good health helps in bed," Notley said as he worked his pasta.
"Little broomsticks?" Ron asked.
Ron grabbed the other fork, an aim of his wand, the fork's handle turned into a broomstick, and he stabbed the meatball, brought it up to Harry's lips. Harry grabbed the fork.
"I can eat," Harry said.
"Need me to wank you?" Ron asked.
Harry popped the pills into his mouth, washed them down with the juice.
"Half the plate and I'll shut up about it," Ron said, "At least until breakfast."
Harry glared.
"I swear," Ron said.
Ron watched as Harry carved a meatball, brought it to his lips, and ate it. Ron's left fingers gripped the fork, ate into the pasta. Their eyes met, again.
"Keep going," Ron thought.
"Bastard," Harry snapped.
"Keeping you alive's my best chance to sucker punch the Dark Lord," Ron replied.
Harry snorted.
"He deserves way more," Ron said.
Harry nodded. Ron glanced at the other pair of eyes, the ones that knew they'd missed half the conversation.
"You think you're risking a losing season?" Ron said, "Forget castration. Failure condemns everybody."
"Ron," Harry said.
"They deserve to know the stakes," Ron said.
Coach Meyers finished his plate, drank the juice.
"I appreciate the candor," Coach Meyers said as he stood, "If you'll excuse me, I will entrust Benjamin to you both."
"I can apparate," Notley said to the coach, "I'll be fine."
Coach Meyers left. Notley kept watching, as did Ron, as Harry ate with them. A meatball more than half a plate, and Harry stood.
"Thank you." Notley stacked the trays, the plates, into one, with Harry's half eaten one on top, and stood. "I understand the intrusion. I can conjure up a sleeping bag and cot."
"There's a spare bedroom," Harry said.
Ron stood.
"Fireplace?" Notley asked as he lifted his duffel bag.
"No," Ron said as he pulled out the Hogwarts Pin, "Portkey. Hold on."
Ron activated it. Notley and Harry held on. Jerk behind their navals, the pulling, and they landed in the living room for 66 Pickering Place.
"He's your guest, so he's on you," Harry said to Ron, finger that pushed on the stomach.
Harry went for the stairs. Ron gestured, Notley turned as Ron leaned back against the counter in the kitchen. Notley stood there, in his blue and white.
"Harry's miffed," Notley said.
"It is an imposition," Ron said, "He's had plenty of those."
Notley studied Ron.
"You're the key, aren't you?" Notley said, "You're keeping him together, at least trying, but you're in over your head, you need the assistance."
Ron stayed quiet, watched the eyes.
"It's admirable," Notley said, "If you don't mind, I'll start with you and let him watch your examination."
"Sure…" Ron felt the buzz in his holster. "Excuse me, check out the fireplace."
Notley walked over, while Ron turned into the small alcove of a pantry and back door. Ron pulled out the stone coin, Percy's green head showed.
"This Benjamin Notley," Percy said, "Aurors are not happy with the surprise audit."
Hermione dropped the disillusionment as soon as she apparated into the corridor. She entered the law offices.
"Hear what happened at the school?" asked one clerk to another.
"Can we help you?" asked the woman, the eyes on Hermione.
Hermione stepped up to the counter.
"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said, "Sorry for not stopping by sooner. I wanted to know if there was an update to my parents' estate. My friend had an issue with hers, that's why I wondered."
"We've tried to get a hold of you," the woman said, with a folder in her hand, "No phone, no house at the address on file."
"A bit of an incident," Hermione said, "I don't have a current address either."
"I see that a protest has been filed," the woman said, "That'll delay things, I wouldn't expect anything for at least six months dear, don't plan a summer holiday on it."
"It's all I have left of them," Hermione said.
"I can get you on the calendar," the woman said.
"I'll give it a month," Hermione said.
"Have a nice day," the woman said.
"Which school?" Hermione asked,.
"Some knife thing at the public one," the clerk said.
"Thanks," Hermione said.
Hermione left the office, back into the corridor. A swish of her wand, the disillusionment. She focused on Richard as she issued the charm, and she disapparated. She stumbled as she apparated, the cry of the baby, the toy beneath her feet.
"Hermione!" said Jen.
A hug.
"Heard something happened at school," Hermione said.
"Classes canceled at least through tomorrow," Jen said.
Hermione glanced at Richard with his back as he worked the nappy change. Richard lifted Paul, carried him.
"What did happen?" Hermione asked.
"It concerns you," Richard said, "I was in the office…for the last bit of it. They were demanding Gia's whereabouts."
"Caught a bug," Hermione said, "She wasn't in any condition to come to school this morning."
"Technically unexcused," Richard said, "They killed the Headmaster's secretary. Heard they took the student address list."
"I'm not supposed to leave her, but it was getting late and I needed to check on something," Hermione said, "See you around."
Jen waved as Hermione took out the Portkey. Hermione activated it, felt the jerk behind the naval.
Ron watched Percy's green head above the stone coin.
"You owe me," Percy said.
Percy's head vanished. Ron stashed the small stone in his holster, spun, and returned to the kitchen area. Notley studied the candle holders secured to the brick above the fireplace.
"Understand the peril we face." Ron waited for Notley to turn back around. "Outside, muggles going about their business. We try a walk, either your services are required, or an undertaker's. We can't afford mistakes that come with casually tossing trust around."
"I know we're practically strangers," Notley said, "You're capable and I could vanish." He snapped his fingers. "Yet, here I am, trusting you, because I see enough to love you. Madam Pomfrey did what she did out of love for you, because the consequences of not acting would've done more harm.
"It broke us," Ron said.
"If there's ever to be a repeat," Notley said, "We will bring her back in to be the executioner. I will help you evade. That work for you?"
Notley's eyes kept their focus on Ron.
"Harry's the tougher sell," Ron said.
"I see that," Notley said.
"Excuse me?" asked Hermione as she appeared, "Who's this?"
Ron turned toward her.
"Benjamin Notley, the team Healer," Ron said, "He's staying the night."
"Is Harry that seriously injured?" Hermione asked.
"Harry missed the provision that examinations are required," Ron said, "Guess."
"Oh," Hermione said.
Ron unable to tell if she was actually amused or not, she definitely understood. Harry entered behind her, package and envelope in hand, his glare at Ron as he approached.
"Yours I believe," Harry snapped, pushed it against Ron's chest.
Ron took it, Harry ran back up the stairs.
"What's that?" Hermione asked.
Ron went, sat on the sofa, placed it down, opened the letter addressed to Harry.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Harry
Coach Meyers is concerned about your reluctance to accept Benjamin Notley as a Healer. This is understandable given your experiences, your status, and your concerns.
Benjamin Notley attended Hogwarts and graduated in 1975, a Hufflepuff. He interned under Madam Pomfrey for three years starting in 1980. A copy of the credentials, as investigated then, are enclosed along with other materials. Notley has my full confidence and I trust his integrity as I trust yours.
While I wish you'd regain your confidence in Madam Pomfrey, I would be heartened to know that you've vested it in a capable Healer.
Dumbledore
P.S. You were sitting on my chair this morning while hiding from the Minister.
Ron leafed through the documents, examined them. He glanced up at Notley who seemed to examine the paint in the corner.
"Well?" Hermione asked.
"Same as the Ministry," Ron said.
"You checked with them?" Notley asked.
"Worried?" Ron said, "Maybe we should check with the muggles."
"You're just being very thorough," Notley said, "That's all."
"Am I?" Ron stood, his left fingers around the light groove scar inscribed around his right bicep. "Got severed by a mine intended for us, it could easily have been my neck." Ron glared at the man. "Made my point?"
Notley nodded.
"Reminds me of what I needed to talk to Gia about," Hermione said, "You and Harry ought to listen."
"I'll get—" Ron started.
"Why bring him here?" Hermione asked.
"To be adopted," Notley said.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I'm hoping to gain confidence," Notley said, "I thought a stay in your lair would help."
"You're smart but inexperienced having to rely on phoenix tears," Ron said to Hermione, "We need him, maybe he can help train you up?"
Ron leaned in, held her shoulders as he kissed her on the lips.
"Lets talk to Harry," Ron said to her. He turned his head toward Notley. "We'll be back down shortly."
Ron escorted Hermione up the stairs, into the bedroom. Gia wrapped in the blankets. Harry sitting cross–legged, his eyes watched her while his fingers picked at his toes and their nails. Harry glared at Ron.
"Hermione wanted…" Ron said.
"I visited the solicitor's office," Hermione said. She described the protest.
"Oh," Harry muttered.
"I came across Richard and Jen," Hermione said. She described the incident in the school's office. "Whatever address you've got listed, they've likely got it."
"It'd be old," Gia said, "This one's not listed."
"One thing done right," Harry said, "One person dead, and we're debating school records?!"
Harry got up. Ron's wand out, the magical lasso that pulled Ron along, as Harry bolted down, and out the front door. A hard right, Harry slowed. Ron shoved him into the small shed leaned up against the side of the house, failed to notice the shadow on the path to the other side of the clearing. Ron's hands pinned Harry to the outside of the stone chimney, the bottle green eyes that glared back.
"Today's body count—Weaselbee!" Harry said, "Lupin's manor, Hagrid, Cauldwell, and some bloody secretary!"
"Hagrid's not dead," Ron said.
"With the Ministry investigating?" Harry said, "Might as well be."
Harry glared, again.
"Trying to add yours to the list?" Harry asked.
"Notley can help us," Ron said, "I can bang the cauldron cakes if that'd help get you to eat."
"It's my stomach," Harry said, "Not yours."
"I draw the line at death," Ron said, "Yours because you're too weak to confront Voldemort—think he'll wait for you to eat a bowl of soup?
Harry kept his glare.
"Dursleys really did a number on you," Ron said, "Withholding on a whim, a can of soup a day? I've seen your memories!"
Harry kicked Ron's shin.
"Your uncle died before I could torture them for what they did to you," Ron said, "And you're going on with it, letting them starve you to death."
"You know why that won't happen," Harry snapped.
"And I'm being selfish wanting to walk with you to my execution," Ron said, "We need a Healer, and Notley seems good at it."
"Falling for Dumbledore's big plan!" Harry snapped.
"It was Gia's idea to get you onto the team," Ron said, "Dumbledore used it to get you in touch with a Healer. And me—I'm the muscle to lead you through."
"Sure that's muscle?" Harry asked, his finger poked into the fat on Ron's stomach.
"Walk with me," Ron said, "I'm showing him the crown jewel."
Ron let loose, turned.
"No!" Harry snapped.
"Come and watch," Ron offered.
Ron disapparated, apparated into the living room. Gia and Hermione on the sofa, side by side. Notley at the dining table.
"Come here," Ron said to Notley.
Notley stood. Ron spotted Harry, in disillusion as he watched.
"Did a bit of digging," Ron said to Notley, "Decent marks at Hogwarts, born in 1957, Hufflepuff and a prefect. You own a house in Wiltshire with twenty thousand outstanding, paid for by your twenty five thousand annual salary from the team. You occasionally wager in small amounts."
"That's…" Notley started.
"Order of Merlin," Ron said, "Third class for heroism, you saved that patient while under fire from Death Eaters, while training Salem Institute's joint medical program at Harvard. Interned with Madam Pomfrey, got hired six years ago by Coach Meyers because he met you back in Hogwarts and you kept in touch. You've been cited several times for interfering in official investigations. You've even served time in Azkaban over it."
"Thorough," Notley said, his head shook a bit.
"We have to be," Ron said, "Not like anorexia's anything to trifle with."
"Ron!" Harry snapped.
"That's—?" Gia said, "Not eating much?"
"Not enough to survive," Notley said.
"We need Harry to eat more," Ron said, "Hermione, keep an eye on this demonstration."
Ron stepped up to the edge of the coffee table, and summoned over a cup.
"I'm willing to trust you," Ron said to Notley, "So, witness why I can't let Pomfrey's wand near me."
Ron dropped his shorts, his fingers drew out his stiffy, and he began to wank.
"Ron!" Harry snapped.
"Sit with Gia!" Ron snapped.
Harry glared, went over to her.
"Hold him down," Ron said.
Gia pulled Harry down, his arse, legs across Hermione.
"Like I said, this is why," Ron said.
Ron continued to wank, let the seed fall into the cup.
"Dumbledore heard the rumor that our implants were leaking poison," Ron said to Notley, "Which was correct for mine, except you realized I'd gotten rid of them. You could've told Dumbledore the full picture, except you didn't."
"No threat from the poison," Notley said.
"This should be filled with my sperm." Ron handed the cup to Notley. "I got a tip off, which gave time for a sleight of hand. Pomfrey did not destroy my testicles. We destroyed the implants and put my balls back in."
"It was close," Hermione said, "Some poison did leech out."
Notley sat there for a minute, his wand aimed to the cup.
"I'm impressed," Notley said, "Castration is supposed to be permanent." Notley's arm crossed himself. "Mind?"
Ron nodded.
"You're clever and sharp, but these took damage and won't last," Notley said, "I need to know everything you've done." A swish and a flick. "Support charm. I trust that as you made it public, no privacy required in here?"
Ron shook his head.
"Your notes Hermione," Ron said, "All of them."
"Have you ever been employed by the Ministry?" Harry asked.
Notley shook his head.
"No oaths to them?" Harry asked.
Notley shook his head. Harry got up, went with Hermione up the stairs.
"Mind keeping them busy?" Ron asked Gia.
Gia stood, went for the stairs. Ron sat on the sofa across from Notley.
"I know this is rushed," Notley said, "I appreciate you taking the leap of faith."
"You see what you're up against," Ron said, "An aunt and uncle that weaponized food, withheld it down to scraps, and Harry got into the habit of turning even that down. He was unaware of his heritage until Hagrid made sure he got the Hogwarts letter, before that, Harry thought himself an unwanted orphan, still does to a degree. Handle him, carefully."
"I was right," Notley said, "You understand him."
"Do not expect every secret," Ron said, "However, like you, I need him healthy, as my fate's in his hands."
Ron sat there, watched Notley's eyes.
"Full examination in the morning," Notley said, "If you're comfortable, you can give a general authorization for me to discuss you with your friends here. I suspect it'll become a jumbled mess otherwise, and I'll slip up."
"Yes," Ron said, "What will you tell the coach about these?" Ron pointed to his crotch.
"Nothing," Notley said, "His concern is with leaking sacks of poison, same as Dumbledore. If treating your testicles requires a restriction, Darrell will be informed of the restricted schedule, but it will be your choice to divulge it's because of balls."
Ron snorted.
"Anorexia kills," Notley said, "Therefore, Darrell is entitled to know about it."
Afternoon was approaching the evening as Ron chopped up the blocks of cheese in the kitchen. Gia sliced the onion.
"You are a bright witch," Notley said at the dining table to Hermione, the papers spread between them. "You got close, the rest has to be filled in by experience, and you don't want to be experimenting on your friends."
Notley's arms crossed over the table.
"I didn't have a choice," Hermione said.
"That's when we gain experience," Notley said, "Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Even what you've written would be worthy of a journal article, however, I doubt circumvention of a penal device is what they're after."
Ron added the cheese to the cauldron on the stove, along with the milk. Gia added the onion.
"Poison was the complicating factor," Notley said.
"Harry's hadn't spilled yet," Hermione said, "Oh, sorry."
Notley chuckled.
"No wonder you both banished her wand," Notley said, "You couldn't present to her, she'd be obligated. I'm risking time in Azkaban with every examination, but luckily I never handed my wand over to St. Mungo's, so it's not going to rat me out."
Ron turned.
"And you owe your girlfriend big time," Notley said, "She spared your testicles, giving me the chance to save them."
Hermione grinned.
"How much do we give Harry?" Gia asked as she stirred the cauldron.
"A bowl?" Ron asked.
"Careful," Notley said as he stood. He came over to the kitchen area. "Do not force it, it'll lead him to the other eating disorder, bulimia, where the person pukes it back up after each meal."
"Gross," Ron said.
"We're starting small and growing his appetite," Notley said, "Unlearn one bad habit without pushing him to another."
Ron turned to the man.
"One person dead, another may as well be dead, today," Ron said, "Because Harry's the prey. He's been conditioned to blame himself, and he's conditioned himself to starve under stress—we're not getting his appetite back anytime soon."
"Try me," Notley said.
"How'd he do for Valentine's Day?" Ron asked Gia, "Or the winter holiday?"
"He ate at least daily," Gia said, "Think there were some twice a days."
"Care to find him a holiday that won't kill him or others?" Ron asked.
"You could write the book on him," Notley said, deflecting a bit, "So write this. He's underweight and slipping. I don't know why his magic's holding him together, but it is. When that magic fails, because it will, he will deteriorate so rapidly that it's like you hitting a wall, and he will die."
"Simple," Hermione said, "Just get rid of Voldemort."
"I do not believe we have the time to wait on that," Notley said, "You understand him, I need your insight to help him."
"It can be a group examination," Gia said.
"Maybe," Notley said, "This feels like a bad date."
Ron snorted.
"A few more minutes," Gia said.
"Try sitting him down for every meal and see what takes?" Notley said, "I'm trying for ideas here too."
Ron thought.
"DOBBY!" Ron shouted.
A pop.
"Dobby is happy to help good wizards," Dobby said.
"This is Mr. Notley," Ron said, "Please see he gets what he needs."
"A house elf?" Notley asked.
"Two," Ron said.
"Lavatory upstairs?" Notley asked.
"Straight," Ron said, "Spare bedroom is next to it."
Notley went for the stairs.
"You don't have to be rude," Hermione said.
"I'm…I'm tired," Ron said.
Ron worried about Harry and what could be coming next.
Harry laid there on the bed, arms and legs spread. Hedwig nibbled affectionately at his ear, her eyes repeatedly showed above him. Harry reached, stroked her feathers for a moment, returned his arm to the duvet beneath him. Footsteps into the lavatory, the noise, the flush, and more footsteps.
"I apologize for getting off on the wrong foot," Notley said, "Can I try again?"
"Maybe," Harry said.
"I see your numbers and I see a sixteen year old dying," Notley said, "You do not see the anger because I trained it out of myself. Who is your next of kin?"
"Um…" Harry muttered.
"Most likely your closest blood relative," Notley said.
Harry thought of Dudley.
"Imagine them getting everything you own because you starved yourself to death," Notley said.
"He's a fat muggle," Harry said.
"I'm here to understand you to help you," Notley said.
"That's what they pay you for," Harry said.
"I'd do it for free," Notley said, "Except Gringotts doesn't honor good will for payments."
Harry watched Hedwig's eyes.
"While I don't know what you plan to accomplish," Notley said, "I do know you can't do it dead."
"Professor Binns," Harry said.
"Anybody stop to listen to him?" Notley asked.
Harry snorted.
"We'll try again tomorrow," Notley said, "In the meanwhile, smell the air. Your friends are making dinner downstairs, they'd like you to try it."
"Maybe later," Harry said.
Notley left the bedroom. Harry closed his eyes, felt the nips to his ear for a bit, before Hedwig flew back.
"Shh," Gia whispered some time later.
Harry heard the footsteps, felt the shift in weight on the bed, the light that went out. Harry opened the eyes back up, the light of the full moon that crept through, however, the smells of the dinner still lingered and there was a pang to his stomach. Harry apparated downstairs, stumbled as he stood, the cauldron empty.
"Dobby saved Harry Potter a serving," Dobby said, handed over the bowl with what seemed like macaroni and cheese.
"Thank you," Harry said, as he took it.
Harry carried it over to the dining table, the notes cleared to the coffee table, and sat. Harry took one bite, two, and stopped.
"Is Harry Potter not satisfied?" asked Dobby.
"It's fine," Harry said, "Not that hungry."
Harry stared up to the moon, wondered how Sirius was faring.
Padfoot panted, the darkness already upon them as he ran back and forth, nudged and pushed the werewolf into the National Park. Game on the ground, and the werewolf stopped to howl. Behind the popping, the curses that fired. Padfoot frozen for that instance, as the green consumed the werewolf, and the howling was no more.
Date: Thu Jan 4 09:53:35 2024