Chapter Text
“Oh dear me. What on earth are you doing here, Mr. Potter?” Harry heard a voice behind him say. Harry turned around and sighed in relief. It was Madam Pomfrey, the medi-witch of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the iron-fisted ruler of the Hospital Wing.
“I don’t know. I went through the floo. I meant to be in Diagon Alley, but ended up here instead. Where is here?” Harry answered.
“Knockturn Alley – not a place for young children to be without a proper guardian. I’m here for some rarer books on healing. That store over there has them.” She gestured to a shabby looking store with a sign that said ‘Saber’s Rare Books’. It was faded, and the biggest ‘S’ looked as though it could fall off at any moment.
“Well, I’m certainly not going to leave you here to wander about alone. Who knows what sort of trouble you’d get yourself into? You’ll just have to come with me. After I get the books, we’ll find whoever it is you are supposed to be in Diagon Alley with.”
“The Weasleys.”
“The Weasleys then. Not hard to miss – bright red hair, the lot of them. This way, Mr. Potter.” Harry followed her into the bookstore.
“Ah, Poppy. Here for the books, then? Don’t suppose I could convince you to stay for tea?” the man behind the counter said. His hair was a silvery blonde, and he had sky blue eyes. Harry almost expected him to float around, rather than walk.
“Not today, I’m afraid Saber. Mr. Potter here has gotten lost. I’ll be returning him to his watchers after this.”
“Ah, of course,” Saber said, walking over to some shelves, and pulling out a few books before placing them on the counter. “I have a few more in the back.” He disappeared through a door. Madam Pomfrey took a closer look at Harry.
“Do your hands hurt?” she asked. Harry frowned and looked down at them. Several nasty scratches were on them. They throbbed painfully, as if realizing he just noticed them. Madam Pomfrey must have caught his wince of pain, as she immediately picked him up, and placed him on the counter. “Let me see them, Mr. Potter.”
At the first wince of pain, she lifted him up and placed him on the counter. She frowned at how light he was, but continued on anyway.
“Let me see them, Mr. Potter,” she told him, holding one of her hands out for his. She ran a basic diagnostic spell on them. They weren’t infected, though the debris needed to be cleaned out of the scratches before she could heal them.
There seemed to be a problem with the diagnostic spell though, as though it was trying to tell her something, but couldn’t. She frowned, cast a skin-friendly cleaning spell at Harry’s hands, and then healed the scratches.
“Mr. Potter, may I do a deeper diagnostic on you?”
Harry looked up from his hands, which he had been staring at with wonder, and asked, “Again?”
“It’s not like the one I just did, Mr. Potter. It-”
Harry interrupted her, “-shows you a more in-depth history of my current and past injuries. The one you used before was just for surface injuries. The deeper one takes more magic, so healers don’t usually use it first.”
Poppy was stunned. That was almost word for word what she had planned to tell him. “How did you know that, Mr. Potter?”
“You told me,” Harry said, frowning.
“I did?” Poppy was puzzled. She couldn’t remember doing that. “Mr. Potter, have I cast the deeper diagnostic on you before?”
“Eight times last year, Madam Pomfrey. Don’t you remember?”
“I’m afraid, Mr. Potter, that I do not. May I cast it again?” Harry’s frown grew deeper, but he nodded. “Thank you.” She cast it, and then gasped in horror at the results it showed her.
“You did that every time too,” Harry told her.
“Mr. Potter, this is-”
“-very serious,” Harry said, interrupting her again. “I must take this to the Headmaster immediately. Stay right there, and don’t you move a muscle!” Harry frowned again. “And then you come back, and let me out of the hospital wing as though it was nothing.”
“Here we are,” Saber said, coming back into the shop front, placing another four books in the pile. “Will that be all?”
“Yes, thank you Saber. How much?”
“Forty galleons,” he said, placing the books in a bag. “Are you alright?”
“No, I’m not. Check on me in the next few days, and make sure I remember casting a deeper diagnostic on Mr. Potter. Thank you, and goodbye Saber.” Saber frowned as the two left the store.