Chapter 8: Chapter 7

Summary:

a nice trip to the Healers reveals a lot of implied things

on an unrelated note, two goblins hold themselves back from marching into Privet Drive and go on a murder spree, but just because they are going to argue about an adoption off screen first :)

Notes:

i am personally going to send all you that have subscribed and bookmarked this fic the best vibes possible cause i love you all so much thank you for keeping up with me!

ENJOY!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

If the General had been the embodiment of all the emotions Harry had gathered when he heard other kids talking about their grandfathers, all wrapped up in the body of a war-hardened warrior who had won every battle he planned and put his head onto, then the Healer was the proper definition of the Aunt who adored her nieces and nephews and spoiled them with gifts and tales and pinched the cheeks of every single person younger than her just because she could, while simultaneously not taking no for an answer and having things done her way.

Harry took a liking to Healer Katara the moment he laid his eyes on her, with her big smile and giant glasses. She reminded him of all the nice people he had read about in the books and he couldn't fathom a world in which she would turn badly on him. She emanated kindness and safety and, by the looks of it, she most definitely gave great hugs.

He didn't know when was the last time he had been hugged and he was slightly itching to bury himself in her safe arms and disappear from the world.

Besides, he had arrived at her infirmary trembling in fear and shock, and she had immediately put him at ease, claiming he had a "sparkle in your eyes, it reminds me of all the young goblins when they get their first spear. Tell me, have you received it yet? It would be my honour to give you one."

He had been quite unsure of what he should reply, given that he would have loved to have a spear yet didn't believe himself fit enough even to wield a metal toothpick, but the General saved him and commented that there was no need for that since there would be a "great deal of weapons in those vaults of yours, Harry, more than a few actually, if the legends of your ancestors are correct. You will just pick the one that calls to you the most and then we can talk about training."

He was also unsure of what to make of that whole sentence, but chose to leave it be, taking in the room they were in.

In his limited experience, gathered from hearing horror stories about other children's visits or from the shows Aunt Petunia watched on the telly, doctors' offices were sterile, impersonal, boring and, quite frankly, terrifying. They had all sorts of torture instruments: there were chairs where they would strap a person in, so that no one could escape in the middle of their procedures; there were long metal tubes to excavate the brain through the nostrils or the ears; there were tiny hammers that would crash fingers and there were saws that could cut through bones.

All in all, the images he had accumulated during the years were nightmare-inducing. Or they would have been, if he didn't already live inside a nightmare-inducing situation.

He had been only once anywhere remotely medical, to the ER, when the school nurse hadn't been able to patch him up properly after one of Dudley's friends had shoved him under two flights of stairs and he appeared to be "more broken than a shattered vase".

Or, at least, that was what the nurse had said to Aunt Petunia once she had come to collect him early, complaining the whole time about how he had interrupted her midday shows. Harry had all but begged the nurse not to call his aunt, telling her that everything was fine and that he didn't feel too bad, considering it was only his arm and head that throbbed, while the rest was fine, but she did regardless. Aunt Petunia then brought him to the hospital, telling him to behave and that "neither Vernon nor Dudders will hear about his, am I clear? If they ask, we'll tell them I made you clean the house. And for the love of God, try and make sure you don't end up with a cast, or it'll be the end of us both."

He didn't know what she had meant by that, but tried to will his arm to stop aching as she led him inside the hospital, already regretting showing the nurse how in pain he truly was. The harsh light did nothing for his pounding headache, after all. And all the people there, moping and begging for attention from the overworked personnel, didn't help him calm down his fears.

When he finally got examined, a doctor who looked both 30 and 50 at the same time told Aunt Petunia, with a tired voice, that he had a "very minor concussion, probably from the fall, so keep an eye on it throughout the night and it'll be alright, that school nurse definitely made us all waste our time since she could have probably dealt with this herself," and that was it.

So, overall, his experience with medical buildings and offices wasn't exactly stellar.

Healer Katara's infirmary couldn't have been more different.

The walls were all made of solid marble, with a dark pavement that made the room appear even bigger than it already was, with rows of beds that looked far too comfortable to belong to a medical space. Even when he had sat on the one in the ER, the mattress was slightly softer than the beaten one he was used to sleeping on, while the ones in front of him resembled clouds. There were no windows on the walls, but on the ceiling there were about a dozen, each letting light in with a soft hue that calmed him down easily. There were flowers on each bedside and comfortable chairs and an entire wall was filled with tiny bottles that were filled to the brim with magic.

It was beautiful.

Then, once the presentations were done, Healer Katara had taken a good look at him and, after having spoken a bit with the General in a guttural language Harry had never heard before but was itching to learn, she had led him to one of the furthest beds from the entrance, closing the curtain around him and telling him to put on the crimson robe that she had laid out for him.

"I would like to remain here, if it is alright with you, Harry," the General said once the curtain was pulled. "Unfortunately I have a lot of experience of children running away from healers and it would make me feel better knowing you are comfortable here." Then, he got a gleam in his eyes and leaned in against Harry, whispering as if sharing a secret: "Not to mention, you'll give me ammunition to use against my grandchildren when they have to take their visits and are too unruly to sit still," he added conspiratorially.

He had a mischievous smile that spelt trouble, and that Harry had seen too many times on Dudley's face, but, since it was not aimed against him, he didn't have it in his heart to deny the request. He had never been used as a paragon for something good or done right, after all.

Besides, he had never experienced proper medical care and had already associated the image of the old General with safety, so it was an added bonus.

"Of course, sir."

Healer Katara clapped her hands, driving their attention back to her: "Well, then it's settled, General, you can sit there and wait, I'm certain this young boy will be much better tempered than your own rascals," she said with laughter on her tone, winking at Harry as he blushed under the praise.

"I don't doubt it, he has already shown more patience than them all together."

He was definitely turning the same shade as the robe, he was well aware of that, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Both goblins seemed to actually like him, for whatever reason, and the General even wanted to spend more time with him despite the fact that he was a very important goblin, being the master of his own office, and had probably a million other things to do. It was such a refreshing emotion that he ignored the embarrassment and chose to just preen under their compliments.

He was even starting to believe he deserved them, too.

"The procedure is fairly straightforward," Healer Katara calmly said, moving him to lay down and pulling out a piece of parchment that had been dyed a vibrant green and a dark-looking quill from her pockets, "and I will explain all the steps now, so that we can do it quickly. There will be no blood spilt at this moment, I'm certain you already lost more than enough in the General's office. I will just place my hand on your head and speak some words you will not understand, since you do not speak the language of Goblins, but that roughly translate to "allow me to ensure the health." Then, the magic will pass through me and inside this enchanted quill linked to me and will be written down. And, once it's all done, we can go through it together, if you would like to better understand what is going on in that growing body of yours. Is that alright?"
Harry thought about how scared he had been at the thought of having bloodwork done, back in the General's office, and took a breath of relief at the knowledge that it wouldn't happen again. And that it wasn't as traumatic as what happened in a human doctor's either.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

"He is too polite!" Healer Katara all but squeaked, pinching his cheek lightly before turning to the General and levelling him with a powerful gaze, "We are keeping him as an honorary Warrior, are we not?"
"We are," came a solemn reply, with rage simmering under the General's skin immediately joined by anger from the Healer, "Anyone who dares deny me him will meet my Gloriana."

And with that, the moment disappeared and the two Goblins returned their eyes to Harry, who had absolutely no idea what either meant. Surely they were not talking about him, right? No one ever wanted to "keep him" and anyone would have rather discarded him as if he was nothing.

But Healer Katara was looking kindly at him and brushing his bangs out of his eyes and helping him take his glasses off with such a gentleness that Harry had never once experienced, so he had to try his hardest to ignore the pang of sadness and joy that swept under his stomach.

"Please close your eyes, as there might be a bit of light happening that could bring you discomfort," she told him once she was done with her ministrations and placed a hand over his forehead.

He did exactly as he was told, aware that it was always best not to go against orders and instructions. And Healer Katara was just so nice, he wanted to be good and do as he was told properly. Not to mention, the warmth that spread from her palm was comforting in a way he didn't know a touch could be.

Suddenly, as soon as he heard the hushed words in the guttural language she and the General had spoken earlier, all his senses were immediately surrounded by even more warmth that came from her hand. He could even see the light even through his eyelids and was very glad to have closed them.

"Magic is wicked," he couldn't help but think as he heard the sound of the quill scratching against the parchment.

After a minute or two perhaps, it was quite difficult to tell the time and it might have been an hour as well, the hand was removed and with it all the warmth.

Harry moaned at the loss of heat and tried to sit up, but a hand was placed on his shoulders: "Try and get acquainted back slowly with the room, Harry, before jumping off the bed," the General said in an amused voice, gently coaxing him to open his eyes before moving.

And he was glad the old goblin was there to help him, for the moment his eyes were back open, he had to shut them back down immediately, not able to handle to amount of light that was surrounding him. It wasn't possible, but it was almost as if it had doubled in the apparently short time the test had taken place.

"It is unfortunately disorienting as a procedure, but thankfully it is painless and quick," Healer Katara butted in, patting his bangs back in place and fussing over him with the General.

It was a good thing Harry was past feeling embarrassed around them, otherwise he would have used one of the guards' spears to dig a hole into the marbled floor and disappear from the world.

Not that many would miss him if he did, a tiny voice at the back of his head whispered, only to be trampled by the kind smile both goblins sported. They would, after all.

With a bit of manhandling, Harry got back into a seated position with his cheeks burning and his heart full, blinking repeatedly to get the last of the blind spots out of his eyes.

Perhaps he could have spared a bit of blood to have the medical examination, he reasoned, since the aftermath had been much easier to deal with.

"You have done a wonderful job, Harry," Healer Katara preened at him, fixing his hair once more for good measure, undoubtedly not knowing that it was an impossible task to shape it against its will, and offered him a tiny ball wrapped in silver foil, "and as a reward for how brave you've been I shall give you a special sweet that is very coveted amongst our kind."

"I have done nothing, though," he commented once it was placed in his hands, unsure of what or how or why he had gained such a privilege.

Sweets were very coveted amongst the children he knew as well. They were used on the school grounds and at the parks as money, traded and exchanged at whatever rates older children set. A piece of Cadbury chocolate was usually worth two bags of jellies at least, while a packet of Haribo's went for two tubes of Toffee. And with them, there were favours and bets exchanged. He had once heard of a girl giving away her entire Halloween loot, and it was a big one considering she went to each house three times dressed differently to maximise her gain, just to get protection from some older girls at her school.

Sweets could get one anything around the proper cycles. And Harry, obviously, had never been able to barter anything.

He couldn't even recall the last time he had a sweet placed on his hands, without having it yanked off his grasp by his cousin immediately after.

"On the contrary, you have done everything," Healer Katara told him kindly, an encouraging smile on her face.

If Dudley had been around he would have definitely snatched it off his hands immediately, shoving it in his mouth, wrapper and all, just to take the joy out of something of Harry's.

But Dudley wasn't there and he didn't need to exchange the tiny ball with anything, so he truly did the unthinkable.

He unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth, his grin matching Healer Katara's.

"Would you like to read your examination or for me to explain it?" she asked kindly, the edges of her smile betraying the concern she was feeling towards him, having undoubtedly read everything that had happened to him since arriving at the Dursleys.

Harry wasn't an idiot, far from it in fact: he already knew what the paper would show him, had been there for every single instance, and he knew that there might be some things he would not understand, medical terms to explain why he felt his head explode from time to time or why his eyes hurt and unfocused a lot or why he was the shortest seven-year-old his teachers had ever taught.

He knew it wasn't a good and light read, especially since the scowl on the General's face hardened as he read the paper, with his rage simmering high up again.

There was no reason for him to read it, he reasoned with himself, and looked back at Healer Katara's kind eyes: "I know it isn't good. Just… tell me what I can do to fix it?"

He silently prayed that it was fixable, whatever it was.

And, judging by Healer Katara's hopeful smile, it probably was.

"I would say it's nothing a good potion regiment, some Light Magic and a proper healthy diet can't fix, my dear. I am afraid we are going to have to put you to sleep for a couple of days, though, so I can reset properly all the bones that your magic healed during the years. As well as helping out your organs to return to their normal state: if you go too long without the proper nutrition, they can shrink and shrivel and fail to do their jobs properly."

Harry couldn't help the wide grin that spread from his mouth.

After his talk with the General, he felt more comfortable at the idea of spending the night at the bank and, now that he had met Healer Katara, he would have gladly remained by her side. And, after years of aches and cooking accidents and broken bones and waking up coughing because he couldn't breathe in the cupboard, he was finally a few days away from getting rid of all the pain.

He was on cloud nine!

"I would like a copy, Katara Blood-bender, to show the DMLE," the General said sternly, interrupting Harry's internal celebration and barely keeping his anger contained and having it matched by the Healer's.

He didn't know what a DMLE was, nor was he sure he wanted to know, but tried to swallow the lump in his throat at the thought that they might be the ones dealing with his relatives as he slept. There was a tiny part of him, a guilty beyond measure part, that told him he should return back to them, to not put them in trouble, to keep quiet about how they treated him. They had offered him a roof over his head, after all, and welcomed him into their home.

Except, they didn't. He was mistreated, hurt and tormented on the daily. They had never welcomed him, nor would they ever. Especially not Uncle Vernon, who was actively teaching his son that "Hurting Harry" was an acceptable past time.

So that side of his brain was quickly shut down, since he hadn't done nor said anything about the way they had treated him, and that the two goblins in front of him had only his best interests in mind.

So, fleeting as it had come, the sadness and guilt that wanted to take hold of him disappeared, just as Healer Katara turned brightly to him once more, her high spirits infecting Harry with her energy and making him forget momentarily the cruel world he had been brought up on.

And he trusted the two goblin more than he had ever trusted anyone, so if they believed the proper course of action was showing Harry's medical examination to the DMLE, whatever it was, so it was.
"I would like to do one more examination on you, if you'll allow it," she said, shuffling a drawer open and pulling out a vibrant piece of parchment. "It's a miracle I still have some here, since this test is down done at the Office for Magical Affairs. But I will not look a gift Hippogriff in the mouth. This is normally done once a wix child starts their schooling at 11, so why not do it now!"

Harry quickly looked at the solemn General, who appeared to be lost in thought, before shifting his gaze back to Healer Katara and nodding. If she thought it best, then it probably was, after all.

She clapped cheerly, smiling wide even if he could see at the corner of her eyes some wrinkles of concern: "Wonderful, thank you, Harry! It is a very simple procedure, quick and painless. You just have to put your hand on the parchment and try to push out your magic onto the paper. This way we can know the details of your abilities, for instance: how easy it will be for you to call them. Any questions?"

"How can I push my magic onto the paper?" he asked, baffled by the concept. He had never thought of magic being something inside his body, hadn't even known it to be truly real until a few hours before, so the idea of having to call it and toss it around was mindboggling.

Healer Katara smiled kindly at him: "You will just have to concentrate on it. Tell me, have you already experienced accidental bouts of magic?"
He nodded, not really ready to divulge all of the tiny instances he had. Some things were best digested first, after all.

"Well, then you might recall a pull from your sternum or abdomen when the magic happens. That is the feeling you have to chase. My best suggestion is for you to close your eyes and try to imagine a stream going from your body to the paper."

He did as he was told once again, concentrating on his limbs as if trying to get the energy moving from there to the centre of his body. It definitely was easier said than done, he thought as he imagined tiny ribbons conglomerating in his veins and pulling towards his heart. He didn't know if he was doing correctly, but where the ribbons went he could feel goosebumps and warmth spread on his skin.

Finally, once he was satisfied by the golden spool of thread he had imagined and could actually feel weighting down his chest, he pushed it out into his right hand, which was resting on the parchment.

"Wonderful job, Harry!" Healer Katara exclaimed once he could no longer push the ribbons out of his hand, and he slumped down on the bed, spent and managing only a tired smile to the old goblin who was beaming over him.

"Once again, do you want to read this thing right now?" she asked, skimming the page before her eyes turned to him once more, the edge of concern much more visible now.
"Not really…" he trailed off, suddenly too tired to speak.

For someone who hadn't known magic to be real when he woke up that morning, he had certainly done a lot of it in a very short time.
"Alright," she nodded once, biting her lip nervously before making a copy of the paper and passing it to the General who accepted it wordlessly. "But I want you to be aware that, while you'll be asleep and resting, I will have to ask a team of cursebreakers to aid me in helping you heal."

"Is there something wrong with me?" he asked, suddenly feeling smaller than he already was.

He knew there must have been something wrong with him. All those times when people were mean and cruel towards him could be explained, then. It just made sense. The Dursleys were not some monsters who haunted him, but he was just wrong and rotten and spoiled and evil. He was bad and awful and wretched and a waste of space, just as Uncle Vernon always claimed. He was…
Healer Katara gently moved to wrap her arms around him, effectively cutting him out of his spiralling.

"Absolutely not! You are a wonder, child," she said, hugging him fiercely with resolution sound in her voice. "You are perfect the way you are, Harry. And anyone who has ever told you the contrary was lying to you."

There was a faint ringing in his ears that diminished second by second and was soon trumped by the sound of her beating heart, reassuring him in a way he had never known possible.

Harry couldn't help himself from burying himself deeper in her embrace. If tears spilt from his eyes and were immediately absorbed by her shirt, then it was no one else's business but theirs. And, judging by the way she simply held onto him tighter as he began to cry, she didn't mind.

"The examination has detected a piece of highly illegal Black Magic tied to your magic, maybe even hindering you from fully exploring your talents, and by the looks of it, it was performed the night your parents died by the same man who hurt them. That is what will need a cursebreaker's aid in removing, since it is tied down to your own magic rather strongly I believe," the General began explaining with his tone full of sorrow, once Harry had calmed down, but still with Healer Katara embracing him.
Harry didn't think he would be able to untangle his limbs from hers even if he wanted to, with the way she was clutching him. Not that he wanted to.

"So, I'm fine?" he asked timidly, sniffing for good measure and gladly taking a tissue from the bedside table.

"You have quite a bit of bruising, sort to say, between the years you have spent with your relatives and the magics that were performed to stun your magical growth," the General replied kindly, ruffling his perpetually messy hair for good measure, "But once everything is taken care of, you'll be right as rain."

Harry just nodded at that, dumbfounded and mind-blown, but also very tired from the wonderful day he had had.

Healer Katara seemed to understand him immediately: "Can I give you a potion that will make you fall asleep? I believe you are rather knackered already, but that will help me make sure you are safe during the procedures you must undertake to right all the wrongs that have been done against you."

He nodded once more, not really trusting his voice not to break at the thought of her stopping hugging him, but knowing he couldn't monopolise her time and kindness much longer.

"Will you be here when I'll wake up, General?" he asked once she moved to the other side of the room, fetching a silvery bottle from the shelves. He hated the way his voice wavered and sounded tiny and scared, but he supposed he was all those things regardless.
"I promise you I will."
He tried to bite his tongue, to avoid saying something idiotic, but couldn't refrain himself. "I'm scared," he whispered, not sure if he wanted anyone other than himself to hear his admission, "What if I have to return back to my relatives? They'll be upset about this whole thing."
"Have you packed everything you own and brought it with you today as I asked you to, Harry?" the General inquired, crossing his arms and eyeing Harry's rucksack with curiosity.
He probably expected him to have loads of luggage waiting to be collected at Privet Drive, but thankfully he had had very little to pack and transport.
"I did, sir."

There was a hard-to-identify emotion that flashed on the General's face, but was quickly discarded in favour of an honest grin: "Well then, there is no reason for you to return to that dreadful place."
"But I have nowhere else to go…" he couldn't stop himself from commenting, not wanting to disagree with the old goblin while also trying not to get his hopes too high.
A humourless laugh escaped the General's throat, startling Harry a bit with the rage that was infused in the sound.

"You have quite a number of properties, so rest assured that housing will be the last of your problems," he stated, sounding resolute and leaving no room for argument, "As so will money, given the Vaults in your name. And I will personally look for a suitable guardian for you. I told you that you have more relatives than you expected, I'm certain one of them would appreciate it if you stayed with them for a while. Besides, I want to understand better this business with your godfather. If I'm right, and I usually am, then he too will be available to take guardianship of you. So, as soon as you fall asleep, I'll start searching for answers."

Harry really couldn't help himself: he tossed himself in the General's arms, embracing the old goblin quickly before returning back onto his seat on the bed as his cheeks burned in embarrassment.

But the old goblin was having none of that and returned his hug, allowing Harry to burrow his head in the crook of his neck for as long as he needed.

"If I can't find anyone more than adequate, though, you will just have to move in with me and my wife," the General said right into Harry's hair, voice full of mischief and affection, "Perhaps this way my grandchildren will learn manners and patience and how to respect their elders, as they are just a bunch of rascals. Regardless, one way or another, you will spend time in my home, child."
"Really?" he couldn't help himself from asking with hope thick in his throat.

"Really. But why don't we talk about this more once you are properly rested and healed?"

He reluctantly extracted himself from the warmth of the hug, fixing his crimson gown and knowing his cheeks were sporting a similar shade, interrupted only by the two streaks of tears, matching on each side.

"Alright," he commented, feeling embarrassed by the amount of emotion he had shown. For someone who was used to not feeling and bottling everything up, it was a lot. "Thank you. Both of you."
"It was no problem, child," Healer Katara said, running her thumbs over his cheeks and wiping the tears away, "I'm afraid we cannot give you any lunch, since some potions are best taken on an empty stomach, but once you're awake we shall have a feast! How's the sound of that?"

Harry simply laughed in disbelief, his heart aching at the dozen of ideas about what he would be able to do once he awoke.

"Now, please, drink this and lean back on the bed."
"Thank you," he said again for good measure, looking at the two old goblins who were saving him, "Goodnight, I guess?"

"See you in the morning, Harry Potter."

And, after chugging the tiny bottle in one single go, he laid back onto the most comfortable bed he had ever experienced and closed his eyes, with a wide smile plastered on his face.