Harry was having a really, really weird morning.
He'd slept in, which wouldn't have been weird except he hadn't been able to sleep so he'd taken a dreamless sleep potion maybe a bit too late into the night and woken up maybe a bit too late in the morning because of it. Which wasn't bad exactly because he figured he was going to be catching up on rest for the next year if not the rest of his life if his nightmares never let him go again, but he'd woken up late on September 1st, aka the only day a year aside from maybe Christmas where waking up ungodly early was okay, expected, and even encouraged.
So he woke up late, whatever.
But then he couldn't find anything. His bag was not where he left it which should've been impossible because of the enchantments he had on it, his last minute clothes and toiletries were all swapped around, and the stuff he'd had prepared for breakfast was either smelling off or just flat out gone and he was left scratching his brain. Which just took too long as he tried to gather himself to get to the train on time and why had it suddenly become this hard? He wasn't the pinnacle of organization or anything, but he was not this bad and legitimately thought he was losing his mind.
And given everything going on in his head, he wouldn't even be surprised if that were the case, honestly.
Even when he was out the door and giving up on cooking himself breakfast (he just tossed everything he had left in the outside bin since he didn't expect to ever be back to this place once the rental ran out in December) he stopped at the café on his way out of Contrair Alley to get something to eat since he was always slightly hungry these days, and whatever machine they were using to make muffins broke mid-way through his order and took way longer than expected.
Did stuff like this actually happen in the magical world? He had assumed mundane stuff like this was solved with magic, but somehow the muffin-machine could not be fixed with the teller's ability and Harry gave up on his wasted time to just abandon his muffin in lieu of the train.
Even considering all this, he still had time.
At least he thought he had time, until he stepped foot into King' Crossing Station and a huge bell rang out the hour—his head automatically snapping to his wrist watch and realizing those bells sounds did not match up.
Luckily, his trunk was pretty light since it was mostly for decoration given most of his stuff (books, anything heavy really) was in his bag, the only awkward thing being his clothes he didn't want to ruin in his bag again by being a careless oaf, and Hedwig's cage complete with ruffled owl who didn't quite understand why they were running suddenly. And running they were, running fast as Harry refused to believe he was as off on his timing as he thought he was, ignoring the shouts of many muggles yelling at him for getting in their way or causing a racket.
And he ran full tilt, directly into a suddenly very solid brick wall.
"Oh my god!" A woman shrieked as Harry was suddenly looking up at her from the ground, Hedwig screeching at him for the action and yeah, Harry could only agree by how his whole body stung in shocked pain.
Did… wait, did the barrier close!?
"Are you alright!?" The woman was still yelling, and several people were clustering now, either to half heartedly help or just gawk at the ridiculous scene he must've just put on.
He rolled over and groaned, hissing sharply as he tried to push himself up and his wrist screamed loudly at him that that was a terrible idea.
"Someone help!"
"Did he just run into a wall?"
"Is that an owl?"
Harry had enough and even still on the ground he reached into his bag and willed his target into his hand, his muggle repelling stone sliding into his palm and as soon as he had it out, the crowd around him dispersed. The woman above him blinked widely as if trying to process what she was seeing… before shaking her head and walking away, mumbling under her breath.
Great, now I just need one of these for wizards, he scowled internally, finally sitting up and trying to regain himself but realizing he was shaking too hard to actually take proper stock.
He looked up at a nearby muggle clock, and yeah… it was past 11am now.
Hedwig screeched again, and Harry obediently picked up her cage and opened the door. She flapped out wildly in annoyance but luckily her wing didn't hurt much as it bopped him on the head. "Sorry," He apologized. "I didn't realize that barrier closed. I mean I guess it makes sense…" she calmed enough but still looked mighty pissy as she hopped up on to the rim of the upturned cart beside him to continue pouting about her rough handling.
He didn't even have the energy to move from where he sat on the ground surrounded by his upturned cart, trunk, and cage, and with the muggle warding stone no one even looked at him anyway, so it was fine.
It was just fine, sitting here.
"This sucks." He told Hedwig blankly, realizing he should be more freaked out about this but he just… couldn't care. He could still find a way to Hogwarts, he just had to think about it for a second. And this way, maybe he could delay seeing Neville just a couple hours longer.
That's so not fair. I dreaded seeing Draco but when I finally did he made things better. I'm not being fair to Neville—he deserves more than that. He deserves so much more than that.
He gave a huge sigh and put his head on his knees tiredly. Maybe he should've just kept sleeping if he was going to miss the train anyway.
What's wrong with me? He recognized blankly. He probably would've straight up died from panic only a year ago, maybe even a couple months ago if he'd risked spending the first day he could with his friends like this.
Maybe he just ran out of energy for things like this. Missing a train didn't really rank on his list of things to be stressed about right now, let's be honest. It wasn't like he was going to get expelled for being late one time, he was just going to miss out seeing his friends on the train, and potentially tonight's feast. And truthfully he wasn't that hungry anymore and he could probably deal with being alone for a little longer—facing others seemed like an enormous task all of a sudden.
He really should've just waited on reading the will.
He winced, curling tighter into his knees and breathing as deeply as he could, reminding himself to think. He needed a plan, and calming as it was he couldn't sit on the ground forever.
Hogwarts was a pretty big deal, and he was sure Hermione had told him several times that it was impenetrable, undetected, and mysteriously guarded by a shit ton of top-secret magic to the point not even any of the dark lords of history had ever attempted to take it. He was almost sure she'd even mentioned the Hogwarts express was one of the most well-guarded places in the magical world since there were a bunch of unattended magical children on it. So he couldn't exactly catch up somehow, even if he could, and he couldn't just floo to Hogwarts as he was positive you needed prior approval to floo in and out of it if you weren't a teacher.
McGonagall is a teacher; I could send Hedwig to her.
Ah, but he had no idea how far Hogwarts was, and it was an all-day train ride to get there so Hedwig might not make it before dark, and McGonagall was in charge of the sorting. Of course she'd send someone to come get him while she dealt with that, but she wouldn't come get him herself.
Maybe she'd send Hagrid again. That might be fun, he could use some quality Hagrid time. Hagrid couldn't use magic so he wasn't sure how they'd get back to Hogwarts— maybe floo? Did Hagrid count as a teacher who had floo access? Would he have access to approve Harry using the floo with him? Then again if Hagrid needed approval to do that (or he came at all, he realized) Dumbledore would know about it too. Dumbledore might get involved about it…
It was all just possibilities and maybe he was more paranoid than he thought but the potential was stressing him out. Hedwig might not make it in time, McGonagall might send Hagrid, Hagrid might involve Dumbledore…
He wouldn't be so paranoid if it weren't all just so reasonable. All of that could happen, and then what?
He wanted to say Dumbledore knowing about this one timemight not do anything, but was he really trusting (dumb) enough to actually risk it, low as the chance was?
Did he even have another option?
He blinked, realizing that… actually yeah, he just might.
It was probably a super bad idea, and more like bargaining with a known demon to avoid a potential devil, but… in the words of a particularly sassy Slytherin, a known enemy was always preferable to an unknown one, and Harry had underestimated just how bad Dumbledore actually was once, so it wasn't going to happen again.
It was still a bad idea, but for his frayed nerves it was exceedingly tempting.
Mr. Malfoy is on the school board; he'd have access to Hogwarts. And he should be on the other side of this barrier for at least a little while, if he was just seeing Draco off…
Before he could think better of it, he pulled out a piece of parchment and unfortunately a muggle pen since it was faster than getting the ink and quill out, sketching out his message and giving to Hedwig who clipped it into her beak in surprise at the sudden task being given to her.
"Can you take this to Mr. Malfoy? He should just be on the other side of this barrier!" He patted the very solid brick wall behind him, and she blinked her wide yellow eyes once before taking off into the sky. Harry really wondered how exactly that worked but figured mail owls were magical like that.
Since he was really not in a state for people to actually see him, he quickly scrambled up and fixed his cart and trunk, folding Hedwig's cage back into his back and going to a nearby bench to wait on an answer. He attempted to make sure his clothes and hair were okay but since he was in muggle clothes for now he figured it was a losing battle; Mr. Malfoy wasn't going to be impressed for anything, especially since he was at the bare minimum not presenting a traditional pureblood wizard right now.
He didn't need the man to like him though, just accept working with him this once.
Oh… I probably shouldn't be thinking of him like Blaise or Draco… he's like, a full grown Slytherin. He'll be Draco but worse.
Harry mentally pictured a Draco who wasn't as predictable and slightly clueless as he was and felt a tremor of unease slide down his spine. Maybe this wasn't a great idea….
But no sooner had he thought that did a presence seem to materialize above him and his head snapped up, Mr. Malfoy looking at him with a more impressive version of Draco's 'I'm being polite but still looking down at you' expression that seemed familiar if not also significantly scarier at this moment.
"Mr. Malfoy!" He greeted with a slight yelp, jumping to his feet and trying to be polite. "You got my letter… I'm so sorry about this but I didn't know who else to call and I knew you'd be right there…" He trailed off, and luckily the man only raised one eerily silver eyebrow at him, which was appropriately judgmental but not like he was angry or disgusted about it, which was good.
"An intriguing situation for certain, I've never heard about anyone missing the train." He intoned blankly, and Harry felt his cheeks color slightly, trying to stamp down on that quickly.
"W-well I thought I was here in plenty of time… I suppose my clock was slow or something, as the barrier was just a wall." He attempted to explain, but if felt awkward on his tone.
"You ran into a wall?"
The dry tone made him blushed even harder. Okay this was probably a really bad idea. Maybe he should've taken the loss and waited for Hagrid.
"Ah… yes." He admitted.
There was a really long pause as the man just looked at him and for the life of him Harry had no idea what he was thinking. It got awkward quickly as his mind raced through all the judgmental things the man could possibly be pondering at the weird twelve-year-old who was pretty much only in existence to screw up and get Draco in trouble from his fatherly perspective.
He wasn't like Draco at all, Harry realized, he was much quieter and much more judgmental. Draco was too, but Draco could be swayed, Draco was secretly squishy inside with a prickly exterior that was all endearing bluster and flashy pompousness. Harry wasn't even attempting to get into it with this man, he was far too intimidated right now, because he was suddenly incredibly aware that this man had no mushy center like his son did. Don't know how he knew, but his instincts knew.So it was a real shock when the man finally spoke after his long deliberation.
"Are you alright?"
Harry perked up, but kept his face blank. "Yes sir," he chirped automatically. Seeing the man's one lifted eyebrow though, he thought better of his lie immediately. It wasn't like lying to Draco at all, it was like trying to lie to Snape but worse. Bad, bad idea—there was no way he'd get away with it as he was. "Or… I may have sprained my wrist." He deflected quickly.
His wrist was sprained, so there was that. Not a lie.
"…well, there's a floo on the platform, you can return to Malfoy Manor with me for a moment to get fixed up. I will write to the Headmaster and inform him; you'll likely miss the feast, but you'll be able to enjoy the night in your dorm." The man seemed to accept it for now and briskly began walking, already commanding the plan of action like that is what they would be doing, and Harry knew better than to argue despite feeling a flush of uncertainty. The first time he was going to Draco's house and Draco wasn't even there? Talk about weird.
"Thank you sir." Was all he said though, grabbing his trunk and following obediently, though he got super curious when Mr. Malfoy attempted to go back to the barrier. He couldn't even wonder fully before the man touched the wall, and legitimate surprise flickered across his regal features. "Ah… doesn't it close after the train leaves?" Harry asked curiously because he couldn't help himself despite the awkward situation.
"It should remain open the entirety of the day the train is scheduled to come… today included." Mr. Malfoy intoned in actual interest as he poked at the wall one more time just to be sure. "Most curious. Something must have gone wrong with it." Grey eyes slid down to eye the boy beside him critically, causing Harry to feel acutely aware of the mess he probably was right then, though he managed to remain motionless despite it. "It is not anything you would be capable of, I'm sure. One cannot be late for the Hogwarts Express if you do not intend to miss it."
"Oh." He blinked, suddenly feeling a sense of relief that this wasn't his fault. I mean he hadn't thought it was, he'd just assumed this was something else terrible he'd encountered, as there was a lot of those encounters these days. In any case, it was still a relief that Mr. Malfoy personally wasn't judging him too harshly for this now.
With a slight jolt he also realized probably not even Blaise would tease him about it if Mr. Malfoy agreed it was just an accident. Which said a lot about why Draco was so willing to hide behind his father's name when they first started at Hogwarts—Harry hadn't spent more than a minute total with the man in his life and he already just got it.
Maybe he should be easier on Draco…
"We can apparate then, although I expect it will be your first experience it with it, correct?" The man simply moved on briskly, and Harry paused. He knew of apparating but…
000
Apparating sucked.
Or, maybe it was side-along apparition.
Whatever it was, he was really trying not to be sick to his stomach despite there being nothing in there to lose at the moment in front of one Narcissa Malfoy, who greeted them in whatever formal hall-looking place they had suddenly appeared in. He barely heard Mr. Malfoy explain the situation in a brisk tone and then excuse himself, presumably to get in contact with Dumbledore as promised, which left him alone with Draco's mom and also a broiling stomach that refused to settle down after that sudden shock.
He'd met her a couple brief times but now that he was fully alone with her and she was smiling politely at him, he really took her in. Draco definitely took after his father in terms of looks, but she had that silvery light blonde hair as if it were destined she'd marry a man with the same coloring, producing a son with hair so unnaturally pure blond it was kind of shocking. Her features were much more narrow and thin, even the tip of her nose and thin lips despite her gracious smile seemed sharp-edged somehow. Her eyes were also closer to green rather than the flat grey of her husband and son, and just like said husband there was a notable lack of warmth there too.
Her tone however, was everything generous and cordial and more.
"Well of course you're welcome to stay here a while, I hope to have it cleared up quickly but it's lovely to see you again Harry." She greeted him.
She was very polite and her tone was either genuinely warm, or a perfect fake of it and the fact Harry legitimately could not tell which one it was kind of terrified him a bit.
"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy, really." He manage to get out although through his nausea and the whirlwind the day had been so far, he really hoped it sounded more level than he felt.
"Lucius said you hurt your wrist. Let's get to that first," She nodded sympathetically, raising her chin slightly. "Turel!" she called gently as if for someone in the next room.
With a gentle pop, a new figure appeared at Mrs. Malfoy's side, and it was tiny and wearing a neat black tea towel like a formless dress, a silver symbol embroidered on the front that Harry didn't recognize but could probably assume was the Malfoy family crest.
Not that Harry was looking at the crest too closely as he took a startled step back, a jolt shooting through him he couldn't control for a split second.
Mrs. Malfoy blinked in surprise at his reaction but smiled in her warm-but-not sort of way to cover it. "This is Turel, she can look at your wrist and heal it up for you if it's a simple sprain." She explained, and seeing his face added in. "I am aware you were raised with muggles; Turel is a house elf. I believe you met Dobby?"
What a considerate thing to say, her acknowledging that he might not know what house elves were.
If only that was his problem.
He did not answer her.
He suddenly was physically not able to.
And the silence was very, very noticeable.
To the point the small house elf perked up, big bulbous eyes looking very concerned. "If the young master's hand is hurt I can fixes it up right quick! There'll be no pains at all!" Her voice was bright and clear as she tried to sooth him. Cheerful even.
Harry did not immediately move but pulled his aching wrist slightly closer to himself automatically, before realizing what he was doing and trying to relax. This elf… her tea towel or whatever she was wearing was very well kept and immaculately clean. There were no dirty bandages on her, not even a bruise on her vaguely-leather colored skin that he could see, and she seemed to hover closer to Mrs. Malfoy with no fear as if waiting for her next order. Or… waiting for Harry to let her complete her first order by healing him, but also sensing he would not react well if the tiny creature just walked up to him now.
He was so caught up in measuring the elf up, he missed the look on Mrs. Malfoy's face, but then it was gone as she smoothed it clear once more.
"Turel is the best of the elves here with injures—she'll be done in an instant and we can have some tea while we wait for Lucius to finish his business." She moved fluidly, ushering them to the sitting area and guiding him to an extremely fancy looking couch which he sat down on for lack of other option. Before he could react Turel was at his knee and had two little hands opened questioningly at him, but very pointedly did not actually touch him without his permission which was...
He just held his breath and got over it, giving her his hand.
True to form in an instant the pain in his wrist completed disappeared, and in the next blink the little elf was six feet away bowing to both him and Lady Malfoy. "I's get you tea right quick! Is earl grey alrighty ma'am?" She was cheerful to the point of casualness despite her words and careful to only look at her owner, not him, and Harry realized the little elf was trying to distract from the awkward exchange that had been.
He felt a little bad for being so stiff, she really only meant well.
"I believe that should be fine, if that's well with you Harry?" Mrs. Malfoy sat in an ornate chair across the table and smiled blankly at him. He nodded quickly.
"Yes, thank you." He paused only a second. "Thank you, Turel." He added a bit quieter, and the little elf beamed at him before bowing low and disappearing with a tiny, puffing pop.
"Turel is by far my favorite, she already knows my preferences." Lady Malfoy commented conversationally, bringing Harry's attention back.
"Earl grey is Draco's favorite too," He recalled vaguely, before coloring a bit at her amused smile. Right… she definitely already knew that. "Thank you again, for having me. I really wasn't sure what to do."
"From my recollection, this has never happened before so I can't exactly blame you for being baffled. As it is, calling Lucius was probably the wisest as we weren't far." She dismissed smoothly. "In any case you're welcome here; I'm sure Draco will be most disappointed your first visit was while he's out though. He was looking forward to today."
Harry pointedly did not wince but managed to gather himself enough to give a plain smile. "Yeah I'm sad too, the train ride was fun last year." He agreed. "I'm sure Draco is really worried, maybe I should write in our journal…"
Mrs. Malfoy raised one thin eyebrow. "He does seem to be rather nervous in that way."
Harry abruptly wondered how much Draco actually told his parents and realized he should really double check that with his friend at the earliest he could. Until them maybe he should keep everything as neutral as possible…
"Well I am a 'reckless Gryffindor' like he says so I can't exactly fault him," He deflected and she smiled in interest back.
Turel chose that moment to pop back up, and she placed a tea tray with a full set of delicate china as well as some small sandwiches on the coffee table between them, pouring some cups and pushing the sugar and milk Harry's direction since clearly the tiny creature already knew Narcissa's preference of neither. Harry was distracted by awkwardly taking the cup he was given from Turel's tiny hands and didn't see the small card on her saucer that Mrs. Malfoy read, then slipped into her robe out of sight smoothly. By the time Harry looked up she was simply taking a sip and smiling politely at him before setting it back down on the table.
"Well, let's not give Draco grey hairs too young; I'll give you a moment to write to him while I check in on what Lucius is doing. It'll only a take a moment," She announced, standing and gliding from the room which caused Harry to startle a moment before realizing he should really take the opportunity.
He slipped out his journal, trying to ignore the wiggling sensation in the back of his mind that he'd missed something.
000
I really wish Draco were here, at least I could follow his lead, Harry thought wryly as he sat in yet another one of the Malfoy's sitting rooms. Really, there had to be a dozen of them around the manor, as with every change of location they came back to yet another fancy sitting room with a different tray of tea following them if they needed it.
Mr. Malfoy did get in contact with Dumbledore, but apparently the Headmaster was actually at the ministry today so they couldn't get approval to floo him into Hogwarts until later in the afternoon. Mrs. Malfoy said that was fine as they wouldn't dare be so rude as to send him along without having him for lunch, and afternoon tea if it got that late too.
And so lunch and then a couple hours later afternoon tea they did have, although Mr. Malfoy didn't join them for tea in favor of some other business he had going on. Lunch was interesting as there was almost no talking (which explained a lot; he'd never consciously noticed how little Draco said at meals as he preferred to leave Harry and Blaise bickering amongst themselves while he ate), compared to the hours Mrs. Malfoy spent entertaining him in which conversation was surprisingly easy and cordial considering this was his best friend's parents and he'd never really met any parents beside the Dursleys and also his best friend wasn't even here to mediate.
It would've actually been pretty nice if the entire time Harry's instincts weren't screaming at him that he was missing something. If Mrs. Malfoy's plentiful conversation didn't ring every alarm bell in Harry's head as he tried not to give too much away to the incredibly talented Slytherin woman. He really wished Draco were here, because he had no idea if this was normal or if he was supposed to act like everything was okay or somehow let it be known he knew something else was going on to show he wasn't actually a stupid Gryffindor or…
He was just really, really out of his depth right now, but all he could do was keep responding to the flow of conversation and hoped he wasn't ruining something for Draco right now.
Luckily, Mrs. Malfoy seemed content to question him about Transfiguration since their small talk topics had brushed over both of their hobbies, hair since she had her own recommendations to prove on the topic, quidditch since she obviously knew a lot through Draco's obsession, and then of course school where it became clear he had a favorite subject. She clearly already knew he was good at Transfiguration and was using his notes as trades, probably from Draco which wasn't a bad thing, but she seemed genuinely interested in how good he was. Since Harry didn't actually care much about getting to publish his work someday, he was happy to talk about duro and his paper for that with her (a common Slytherin might steal it just on principle but he didn't actually care if she did, though he doubted she would bother), and she seemed well-versed enough on the topic for there to actually be an interesting discourse on it between them. He even told her about the book Draco gave him for Christmas and her eyes got a slightly terrifying glint as she asked to hear more.
And because it felt a little one-sided after quite a long time talking about his interests, he did ask after hers just to be polite although he half thought she'd just deflect him. He was very surprised then when she explained some of her own hobbies, including embroidery and tending to their pets—apparently they had a whole flock of white peacocks which she even took Harry to see, and they were actually very friendly for such large, regal birds.
He was even more impressed when she explained that while house elves couldn't be given clothes as that was a sign of their dismissal, there was nothing against her embroidering their clothes for decoration which explained Turel's tea towel. In fact Turel popped up just to show it off for him once more, and Harry had to admit it was gorgeous work.
Wizards didn't really do things by hand if they could enchant a needle to do it on its own, so it was a surprise and actually really cool.
By the end of it all though, Harry also realized that while Mrs. Malfoy was a "stay at home Mom" (what did the Malfoy family need an actual income for, honestly?) her real profession, was hosting.
Harry was absolutely not the first nor the last to be given a tour of this manor or sit in one of the dozens of sitting rooms designed to host and entertain and distract from the gentle flow of conversation that was all just interesting, engaging small talk but was definitely going to be used like a weapon in her arsenal at a later date. She might not be after him specifically as he was here for a real reason and also she probably just wanted to get to know her son's best friend, but that didn't change the fact Harry knew anyone invited to tea at Malfoy manor would be given the same treatment and the conversation would be far more dangerous.
She acted like this was all just killing time while waiting on her husband to 'finish his business', but she was commanding this show and Harry had a feeling Mr. Malfoy would only appear again when his wife was good and ready for her entertainment to be done.
To be frank, he was really impressed.
And also terrified. Draco looked like his dad but holy shit the longer he sat across from Mrs. Malfoy the more he saw Draco's future and if that wasn't terrifying he didn't know what was.
It was quite a bit after afternoon tea that Turel popped in again, and Mrs. Malfoy paused in her explanation of how they'd started to breed the peacocks to lean over and let the small elf whisper something in her ear. Harry was suspicious, but not nearly as much as he was when the woman sat up again and gave him a smile that iced him to his core.
It was like a snake who'd gotten it's catch, triumphant and commanding and he would've run if her sharp eyes didn't pin him to his seat cushion pointedly as Turel popped away again to leave Harry to his fate.
"Harry, I'm afraid I've deceived you, although do believe me it was with good intentions." She announced, and he got really, really worried.
"Ma'am?" He blinked in alarm.
Her smile could've cut ice as she brushed down the front of her robes briskly. "Turel informed me when she tended to your wrist that it wasn't the only injury you have on you. I asked you to stay for tea because I've also summoned our family healer to see to you more thoroughly." She inclined her head gracefully towards him. "And you will not resist."
He broke out into a cold sweat, but still couldn't move. How did she do that?
"Ma'am I… that's too kind and I appreciate it, but I'm fine. I'll manage, rather." He quickly corrected himself as her eyes narrowed darkly. Right… another full grown Slytherin, and probably more dangerous when it came to words than anyone else he'd ever met.
"You only told Lucius about your wrist because it would impair your ability to write in the coming days of classes." She put together while totally ignoring his comment, smirking in a pleased way. "Very clever, as it soothed our suspicions and got you what you needed, while still guarding your appearance of strength. I approve of the tactic, if even I'm displeased you attempted to lie to me."
He swallowed thickly, not liking how cornered he was but not quite being able to do anything about it.
"A lie of omission, ma'am." He cut back a little shortly, and her eyebrows raised in surprise.
But her smile was definitely pleased. He wasn't really used to looks like that, but for some reason it felt kind of… flattering?
"Do try and teach my son some of that subtly, young man." She hummed a bit wryly, standing and brushing her skirts down. "Turel?" She called, and the drawing room door opened revealing the elf leading in a woman about Lady Malfoy's age if not maybe slightly older. She had on dark grey robes with a red symbol on her chest Harry didn't recognize, dirty blonde hair pulled back in a French braid and light hazel eyes stern, but still way warmer than Mrs. Malfoy's.
"Lady Malfoy," The woman greeted, setting a black bag down on the couch and nodding to him as well. "And you must be Harry Potter."
"This is Anastasia Ludwig, she's a healer at St. Mungos and also our personal physician." Mrs. Malfoy introduced them before turning to the woman directly. "I did deceive him about why he was here though; he didn't know you were coming until just now I'm afraid."
The woman grinned, seeming highly amused. "Ha! This should be fun then, eh?" She looked at him, and Harry could only stare.
"I really-"
"You wouldn't waste an old woman's time by dragging me all the way out here for nothing, would you kid?" Anastasia interrupted, coming around the table to point in his face. Before he could respond she cut him off again. "I've treated my fair share of Gryffindors so I'm not taking no for an answer."
He scowled openly, her tone rubbing him the wrong way and throwing out the mask of politeness he'd been wearing the whole day so far. "Can you do that!?"
"You're not the one paying me, are you?" She countered with a tease, and Harry felt horrified as he glanced over her shoulder to see Mrs. Malfoy smiling way too much as she turned without another word.
"Do let me know if I can get you anything, Anastasia. Turel as well can assist, just call."
"Of course Ma'am," She waved her employer off, and then Harry was alone with a healer and not happy about it at all.
"This has to be illegal!" Harry jumped up and tried to back away from the couch, but the woman had a hand on the back of his sweater and pulled him back gently, but with surprising strength. He blinked in shock as he was suddenly back on the couch, not sure how that had happened.
"There's no law about it, and if you doubt me then trust that Mrs. Malfoy would've checked." She pointed out and Harry froze, realizing the horrible truth in that statement. He scowled again.
"The wizarding world sucks!"
The woman tossed back her head in an uproarious laugh. "You said it kid! Okay, let's cut a deal if you'll listen a second."
"What?" He demanded warily.
"You let me treat you, and I won't tell Mrs. Malfoy you were being an uncooperative brat."
Harry balked. "How is that a deal!?"
"Well you're not getting out of this and this way you have a choice. One makes your life easy and the other will make your life a living hell. Deals are all about choices so you don't have to take it, I'm just warning you." She grinned a bit evilly.
"That doesn't feel much like a choice!" He shot back wildly. "What would you do if I refused!?"
"Stun you and run some diagnostic spells anyway, then go tattle on you to Lady Malfoy. Sound good?" And suddenly there was a wand inches from his nose he had to go cross-eyed to see. Okay… that wasn't good at all.
Also, he felt a little light-headed from having a wand pointed directly into his face. To say it didn't bring up great memories was an understatement.
And just like that, the wand dropped and the woman took a step away, a surprised look flickering across her face as she backed off. "You good kid?" Her flippancy evaporated in a puff, legitimate concern sinking into her voice.
Harry didn't know what expression he had on, but by the way his heart was beating and his hearing was a little muffled it probably wasn't good.
What was he supposed to say to that though? NO he wasn't good, why did she think pointing a wand at him would in any way make him feel good!?
He didn't like being cornered, he really really didn't like being cornered.
The healer seemed to get it and instantly backed off, now on the other side of the chair Narcissa had recently vacated, putting her wand on the seat cushion and putting her hands up. "Hey, kid… Harry—I didn't mean it, I'm a bit of an oaf like that but I'm not actually gonna stun you, I just get a lot of tough kids to deal with. Draco is your friend, right? I've treated him his whole life, used to have to threaten hanging him by his toes from the tree outside to get him to sit still most days." She let out a smooth flow of words at an even tone, and Harry couldn't help but imagine a tiny Draco being an even tinier brat than he currently was for this rather gruff woman, and against his will found it a bit amusing.
"And my own daughter, she's several years older than you but when she was Hogwarts age I used to have to bribe her with Bertie's Botts to get her to let me even check if she had a cold or a flu, but then of course inevitably she'd have neither and just have eaten a bunch of sugar while I'm trying to get her to go to bed, so, yeah I'm a great mother if you couldn't tell." She continued babbling slowly, and as Harry's hearing became normal he collected himself enough to give her a frown.
"Well then what would you do if I didn't let you check me over then?" He demanded.
Her lips pressed tight for a second before blowing out a breath of air in annoyance. "The fact you reacted like you did to a wand in your face means that's not an option, and I'm sorry kid but it isn't. I will do it your way though."
"My way?" He blinked.
"Sure," She agreed like it was easy, staring at him expectantly. He just had no idea what she was expecting from him exactly.
"And what… is my way? Because my way is not doing it at all."
She gave a little huff and pointedly walked over to a chair adjacent from her wand—still a distance away from him and also out of range of grabbing said weapon—and plopping down on it, making a show of getting comfy. She waved her hand at him generously. "It means I can sit here all day and do as little or as much as you'd like me to. I could explain everything I'm going to do and take as long as you want to do it… but you know, I still have to do it. There's just no time limit."
He frowned, but she didn't even blink at his annoyance, just shifted in her seat to get comfier and stretched a bit in a show of nonchalance.
He didn't like the lack of choice here, and to be frank he didn't like her. She was loud, and blunt, and grabby. She was also here on Mrs. Malfoy's dime and didn't seem to care about him, just her job.
The logical part of his brain said she wasn't evil because she wanted to tend to a kid, but at the same time her execution was horrible. Her attitude even worse.
And because he was still kind of shaken by this whole horrible day, he didn't feel the need to care about her.
"I don't like you." He declared flatly.
"Dually noted." She nodded once, entirely unphased. "I do apologize for startling you, but as I said I'm a bit of an oaf."
For some reason he didn't even like that she freely admitted that either despite him totally agreeing with that statement, and just scowled harder.
He had to think, because he wanted out of here, but this healer was not his only obstacle. She was an obstacle, but she was here because Mrs. Malfoy had called her and then kept him here all afternoon to corner him, which meant this was not the only thing his host had been hiding. She definitely knew how to keep him here indefinitely if he refused to be treated, and he instinctively knew this Anastasia woman was not joking in that she'd sit here as long as it took for him to give.
It was just childish to wait it out, and while really tempting he wasn't that low. He'd love to waste her time just to be annoying, but that also meant wasting his time and he really did want to make it to Hogwarts to sleep in a comfy four poster bed tonight, not the cold Malfoy manor filled with snakes (who were not nearly so cuddly as Draco).
Even if he convinced her out of this, he'd then have to convince Mrs. Malfoy to help him get to Hogwarts without getting her way, and as he knew nothing about healer Anastasia and would probably give it a shot just to see if it worked, at the prospect of trying to beat Lady Malfoy at her own game he suddenly got really depressed.
He really hated being trapped.
And he suddenly just wanted Draco here. He wanted him to yell at his mom for him to take them back to Hogwarts this minute, and he was so spoiled she'd probably give in. He wanted to be back in the Gryffindor dorm. He wanted Neville in the bed next to him wishing him a goodnight and for this entire terrible day to just be over already.
His jaw ground hard against itself.
I want Draco, he thought helplessly. Childishly, even.
But… it occurred to him with a deep sinking feeling in his chest, that even if Draco were here… he'd tell him to give in and listen to the healer. That if a healer wanted to look over him, there must be a good reason, and Draco wouldn't let him leave any sooner than Mrs. Malfoy would.
But at least Draco would be HERE to tell that to my face.
He bit down hard on that thought, trying not to let it break him.
He turned sharply and walked to the other end of the room. He knew he couldn't leave and so did Healer Anastasia, so she didn't comment or move, just watched him carefully as he went to the window and looked down at the fields where the peacocks were grazing peacefully for a minute. He half wanted to break something, but he knew all the fancy decoration in here was probably ungodly expensive, or just simply cursed so he held back. Angry as he was with Mrs. Malfoy, he didn't want to break Draco's house even though he knew his friend likely didn't give a shit about the figurines on the tables.
This sucks.
He complained silently, wishing against hope that at least Hedwig were here because this sucked.
He did not appreciated being cornered, and to his silent horror he found his hand in his pocket around his wand a bit too tightly, running through all the spells he'd learned over the past couple weeks for something that could help him. But… that was such a bloody Gryffindor thing to do, to think he could fight his way out of here.
He couldn't, and despite now having a vow to no longer be helpless, all the magic in the world didn't protect him from this kind of shit.
For the first time he found himself legitimately not liking Slytherins because why couldn't they just let him be? Slytherins his age he could handle, but these adults were like every other adult in his life apart from McGonagall (who was a blessed lion and wouldn't do this to him, thank god) and he did not like how his heart was slowly sinking into something too close to anger and hate for his liking. He hadn't felt this way since last Christmas standing in front of that thrice-damned mirror, and he loathed feeling this way.
And he was just so annoyed because while he could not like healer Anastasia all he wanted, Mrs. Malfoy was Draco's mom. He couldn't exactly show up to breakfast tomorrow and tell his best friend his mom was a bitch, even if in this situation he was really starting to think it. He didn't want to hate his best friend's mom, because he didn't want to be the kind of guy who hated anyone and also that would just be so complicated and troublesome it wasn't worth it, despite it not being so easy to control his emotions right now.
I need to calm down. I need to get out of here, and get to Hogwarts.
He had a wild urge to just toss himself out the window in front of him and hope he wasn't conscious enough to deal with the consequences of that, before shaking his head rapidly.
I really need to get to Hogwarts and chill out. What am I even doing right now?
He tried to evaluate his options calmly like he had earlier at the train station, but even his most creative, wild solutions quickly petered out in the fact of the harsh reality that Mrs. Malfoy was definitely going to get her way. As much as it sucked, the only way he'd get to Hogwarts as quickly as possible was to cooperate and then never come back. Logically this would be okay and cornered or not he didn't have a choice.He had to get to Hogwarts, and fastest way was to just grit his teeth and get this over with—and hope it didn't last long.
His jaw clenched and he tried to will himself to turn around and just get it over with. Like ripping a Band-Aid off. Just do it.
He suddenly remembered what he still had in his pocket, and slipped a hand in there to wrap around a small, warm stone that'd been sitting there since this morning. His fingers traced around the runes etched into it, before he gripped it as hard as he could to try and force his agitation from his body and into the stone itself.
I need one of these for wizards, he thought for the second time today. And maybe house elves too, he tacked on as well because Turel was nice and all but if they could stop popping up on him that'd be great.
Before he could change his mind he turned around and walked back, healer Anastasia looking up casually as if asking silently if he was ready. He glared at her for all he was worth but annoyingly enough it didn't seem to have any effect.
"Fine. Whatever. What are you going to do." He ground out flatly, and she huffed.
"I'm not going to torture you, you know. It's literally just a couple of diagnostics spells and then I'll fix whatever I find. Lady Malfoy tells me you ran into a wall today, so sorry about that." She pointed out calmly.
He hated her, like a lot.
"Please just do it so I can get out of here." He even managed to sound calm as he said it, but the words were enough to get his point across as the woman just nodded once and stood up, grabbing her wand pointedly and coming over to him.
"As I said, just a diagnostic spell to start off. Shouldn't feel a thing, though the wand movement is a bit crazy." She explained, jumping right into it by waving it in all sorts of ways Harry didn't recognize. In fact he just looked down at the forgotten tea tray on the coffee table to ignore her motions.
That was, until he heard her inhale a bit and tried not to show how tense he was in his posture.
"…kid, I think you damn well know what that spell just revealed to me. Although it does explain why you're so not into this." She lowered her wand and put a hand on the back of her neck, seeming to be a bit conflicted.
"Not at all ma'am." He ground out stiffly. "Do magical healers have patient confidentiality?"
She gave him a look but answered anyway.
"Yes, however I'm paid by the Malfoys and my morals are not so stringent as that I won't disregard that rule and tell Mrs. Malfoy everything she wants to know. Unlike muggle doctors I won't lost my license over it, but perhaps be given a small fine I'm sure Mrs. Malfoy would be only too happy to pay in exchange for my loyalty. And may I remind you Mr. Malfoy is a barrister when it suits him to be one." She pointed out, and he scowled automatically.
Damn rich purebloods. Wait, I'm one of those aren't I? No—half-blood, I'm going to consider that not counting.
Still, he had a suspicion of what she saw and if he could just keep that not public knowledge…
Healer Anastasia gave him a rather sympathetic look, if not also kind of amused in a way that set Harry off. She was so freaking annoying.
"You sure you're not in Slytherin? I haven't seen a calculating face like that since my own daughter when she was young. Eventually she learned to hide it better."
He glared hard at her and she put her hands up on mock surrender.
"Face it, you've don't have anything to trade for my silence. Besides, you should not have to keep this quiet in the first place, whatever it is. You're what, twelve?" She didn't even acknowledge his glare, rubbing the back of her neck again as the conflicted look came back. "To be honest I wasn't planning on needing to do anything besides healing some bruises when I heard about the wall thing. This complicates things a bit."
"What are you going to do?" He demanded and she sighed, tapping her wand against he thigh distractedly as she thought.
"Okay, let's start with the things you probably know about. You're malnourished." She declared bluntly, and while hearing it officially was… a thing, he wasn't shocked. Seeing his not-shocked face, she continued. "You will need potions to correct this, I can ask Turel to bring some pretty quickly to get you started but you'll need to take a regimen for the next couple weeks to fix what's been done, and I would suggest complying even if you hate me. The vitamin deficiencies are already impacting your brain and will only get worse with time as it'll be all but impossible for your body to naturally catch back up to where it once was without treatment—you want to be a good student right? It might help if your brain was healthy enough to retain information and process it correctly, hm?"
That was bad news, but he wasn't stupid, so he just nodded curtly instead of arguing. "Fine. What else—what I don't know then."
She gave a put-upon sigh but didn't keep him in suspense.
"Some minor things I can clear up right now with a couple non-intrusive spells: you have two residual blocks on your magical core. It looks like something that used to be there, but your core grew too big and broke it off, which is impressive by the way for someone so young, but it raises a big question about why they were there in the first place. One is a normal parental block that should've been removed, although I can guess how that one was overlooked, but the other I don't recognize at all."
"Parental block?"
"Infants can still perform accidental magic; it's normal for parents to put tiny blocks on their children's magic to prevent total chaos although it's usually removed once you get your Hogwarts letter." She explained, looking legitimately sympathetic, bordering on pity actually. He wouldn't been annoyed if the realization of how that could've been so easily overlooked didn't make his heart ache so fiercely.
It was… difficult, or more difficult than it used to be, to shelf that heart ache for late as he tried to refocus on the more critical part of this information she was giving him.
"And this other block is not normal?"
"Not necessarily, blocks are applied all the time for various reasons in children so it's quite common, but all blocks should be documented in your medical file just as diligently as broken bones or the like. Before I came over I checked St. Mungos but there's no entry there since the check-up on your first birthday where you got all your magical immunizations. The next big event was you surviving the killing curse and I can't believe you didn't see a healer after that, but that record is not there. It wouldn't be impossible that it was done off the book given the extreme circumstance, and that might be related to this unknown block for some reason since it was such a unique situation, but it leaves holes in your medical record—especially since the rest of your medical history was likely a muggle one. Creating a more concrete file will be difficult."
"And you want to create that file." He put together.
She shrugged. "It would be helpful, yeah. Madam Pomfrey retains your Hogwarts file, but they don't get merged into your St. Mungos one until you graduate unless something prompts merging them early, and if she'll be treating you at school and you don't have a normal family physician right now, it'd be a professional courtesy for if I did the ground work now. If you got a family healer and they saw I checked you over but didn't question your missing history while living in the muggle world, my reputation would take a serious hit you know as that's just unprofessional." She defended herself, and he couldn't fault the logic. Especially since it was self-serving logic—people doing things because it benefitted them was a lot more believable then that they were doing it out of the kindness of their heart if you weren't Neville.
Since he was fairly confident she was telling the truth, he softened just slightly enough to offer his own truth too.
"Well then I guess it'd be… helpful to know that I never did see a muggle doctor except for my immunizations. The muggle ones. And the hospital treated me outright when I broke my arm once as a kid." He offered grudgingly, recalling the time he'd fallen off a ladder gardening and Petunia had caved and actually taken him to the hospital to get it treated. They were horrible people but him having that blatantly broken an arm would've alerted people as he was still in school and it was again his writing hand—also it impacted his ability to do chores which was inconvenient for them.
Healer Anastasia got a funny look on her face—not quite annoyance but close.
"It doesn't shock me. But that's very much not good—it means I'm the first person to examine you officially since you were one. Not good at all."
Like he didn't already know that. He didn't dignify it with an answer as he pushed. "Anything else?" He demanded shortly and she tapped her wand against her thigh distractedly again.
"Yeah, but it's the oddest thing so I wasn't going to make a huge fuss just yet until I know more. You also have several poorly healed fractures that seem to be pretty old—older than this malnutrition issue for certain, and that have definitely been treated before, just not fully. It's odd, as if you'd had them at Hogwarts and were ever in the same room as Madam Pomfrey she definitely would've noticed them."
Wait what? Fractures?
He'd sprained his wrists and ankles and such, just a side effect of growing up with your own personal bully in the same house, but he couldn't remember a time he'd actually broken something and just had to deal with it aside from this recent incident with his wrist. Vernon had roughed him up a couple times this summer but he definitely hadn't broken anything until his wrist, he was sure. Shocking as it was he hadn't even broken anything with the Quirrell incident, which left…
"I mean I was almost crushed by a troll last year—would the fractures come from that?" He blurted out almost without thinking, because mystery fractures was enough of an alarm for him to forget he didn't like this lady.
And Anastasia seemed to do a double take at his sudden confession, blinking widely.
"What was a troll doing at Hogwarts?"
"Um… long story short, Dumbledore hired a really, really bad Defense Professor." He shrugged once unhelpfully, and she scowled instantly.
"The position is cursed, and everyone knows it. No teacher lasts more than a year in that role, I'm not sure why the batty old coot hasn't done anything about it." She half ranted in irritation, and Harry blinked at that bit of information. Not that the role was cursed because everyone knew that, but more that even adults her age knew it and that she wasn't a Dumbledore fan.
Okay… she earned one point for not liking the headmaster, but that was it.
"What bones did you break then?" She got down to business and may he was feeling a bit more generous now that he could at least determine she didn't like Dumbledore, which was always a great thing to him.
"Ah, all my ribs I think, and definitely my shoulder."
She frowned deeply, seeming troubled. "When you say crushed…?"
"It grabbed me, yeah. And squeezed."
Instead of pity she clearly was just thinking it was impressive he was alive, which he kind of liked.
"Well, actually yes those are the bones I was talking about. If Madam Pomfrey healed you after that incident though, there is no reason they shouldn't have healed entirely the week after it happened, unless something else was going on. I suppose the lack of nutrition in recent months might've contributed to them resurfacing if you had a magical core deficiency or something, but other than that it's a brain-scratcher for one." She pressed her lips as if trying to figure out a complicated puzzle, tapping her wand distractedly again, but her words send an alarm bell off in his head.
Harry had heard someone he trusted a lot more than this woman talk about his magical core before and felt obligated to ask.
"Wait, magical core deficiency? What is that?"
"Sometimes those with weaker magical cores can suffer health problems if they're not careful. As if your magic is a reservoir that can only do so many things at once—if they use it to cast spells then it's not being used to heal themselves." Healer Anastasia explained easily. "Madam Pomfrey uses a refined style of magical healing; she's one of the most accomplished at it amongst the medical field in fact so everyone is aware of it. Essentially her style focuses on using one's own internal magic to heal themselves instead of her using her own energy, which allows her to heal many people at once without faltering. It's a tricky method only few insanely trained and practiced medical professionals can actually do, which is why some still call her a battle medic—she could heal a whole battlefield of people without breaking a sweat in her glory days, so I've heard." She grinned at that last part and Harry blinked widely in awe—he hadn't realized Pomfrey was so… well, bad ass.Also Neville instincts might've been right on point to be terrified of her. Huh.
Anastasia continued, amused at his probably visible awe. "With this method though, the only drawback is if someone had a small magical core. Then their magic reserve wouldn't be enough to heal them—it might start to while under the care of a healer, but if discharged too early under the assumption they'd heal the rest of the way on their own, that healing process might never actually finish." She put her hand on her hip, giving him a dry look. "That's the only possibility but to be frank, but a small magical core is the least of your issues, and the Madam would know that taking one look at you. You're a Potter, and you inherited their reputable magical core in full strength I'd say. I know no small number of adults with a smaller core than you've got at twelve years old, to be blunt."
He wanted to get annoyed at her tone again and that barn joke resurfacing again, but he was too distracted by McGonagall's voice in the back of his head, and the sinking feeling he had that she was going to get pissed when she learned about this—if, indeed, it was going where he thought it was.
"Well… ah, I mean, not to be presumptuous or anything, but I…may be a Transfiguration prodigy? I mean… by the end of last year I'd actually reached almost fourth-year level spells. Professor McGonagall had a heart attack when she realized how far ahead I was and gave me a lecture on stressing my core out herself."
The healer in front of him stared.
"…is that… bad?"
She continued to stare for a long couple seconds, before blinking and placing hand on top of her own head as if trying to keep up with what was racing through her head.
"It's… impressive, to be honest, and also extremely alarming. If you were… yeah, if you were actually using high level magic for your age all year… then actually, yes, that might be it. Madam Pomfrey probably discharged you and assumed you'd finish healing using your own magical core since clearly you had the capacity for it, but you were using up your whole core elsewhere so that never happened." She blinked as if shocked she'd come to her own conclusion. "It probably looked normal right up until you started showing signs of malnutrition and then the half-way magical healing started coming through when your normal levels of calcium suddenly plummeted. Christ that's unlucky…" She seemed dazed for a moment before snapping out of it and giving him a wide look.
"I am definitely writing the Madam—she was one of my trainers in school so she'll flay me and heal me herself if I let you go back without warning her! You will not be permitted to use a single spell until she's confirmed you're 100% healed, if it's the last thing I do, understand? And I don't mean to boss you around or whatever but messing with a young magical core—particularly one as big as yours—is a super bad idea. Like, you could blow up, understand? I am so serious now, please tell me you understand." She all but begged and it creeped him out enough that he just put his hands up.
"Fine yeah, alright—whatever. I mean, can you not do it now?" He wondered and she rubbed the back of her neck as if embarrassed.
"To be honest, magical core healing is best left to those who specialize in it or at least have the mastery, and the Madam is one of them. It's why she's the healer for Hogwarts, since children all have developing magical cores to look after."
He blinked, again impressed by Madam Pomfrey if not slightly alarmed that that would even have to be a consideration. Then again, given his own life experiences, maybe it was good that was one of the rare good rules the wizarding world had.
"I'll have to catch up with her anyway, to touch base on the potions regimen you'll need. In fact," She plopped down on the chair again, pulling out a note pad from her bag and a self-inking quill apparently as she scribbled something out. "Turel!"
A simple call and the elf popped up again, Harry automatically stiffening but giving Turel a blank smile when the movement caught her eye. The tiny creature beamed at him in greeting as she was handed a slip of paper.
"I need you to fetch these potions if you could; I believe Lady Malfoy said she'd foot the bill if we needed anything." She winked once and the elf gave a tiny squeak.
"Yes ma'am!" She chirped, and then was gone without a sound.
"Alright, so you said you wanted it done fast so how about I take a look at those blocks of yours? It'll take a bit longer but sooner we start, sooner it's over, yeah?" She stood again, wand now pointedly aimed at the ground and Harry tensed but just blew out a breath to steady himself.
"Fine."
"Might want to sit, it'll take several minutes and works best if you're relaxed." She explained, raising a brow at him. "And you don't look relaxed in any way."
With a flare of annoyance he dropped himself back onto the couch and crossed his arms. Luckily she didn't seem to care about the display of reluctance and just gently raised her wand from a distance to wave it in another incredibly complex pattern before swaying it gently side to side as blue mist seemed to fog out from it's tip in gentle wisps. They gathered in the air and landed over him—he didn't feel a thing before getting this weird taste of itchy vanilla at the back of his throat.
"So… about that malnutrition thing, since we've now established it's a thing and are going to fix it." She suddenly broke the silence and he frowned.
"Don't you need to concentrate?"
"Not really—hard part is over, and it takes a while to do it gently but doesn't need much thought on my end." She flashed him a teasing grin as the gentle arcs of her wand continued while she spoke. "So while we wait why don't you answer my implication there."
"Sorry, I'm a dumb Gryffindor— I didn't catch the implication." He droned sarcastically and she snorted in amusement.
"That's funny." She acknowledged. "But as much as I want to be gentle, I think you'd appreciate the honesty more. If I don't get my answers, Mrs. Malfoy will. Do you really want to get into that?"
No, she's kind of terrifying, he admitted silently to himself.
"What exactly is it you're looking for."
"You lost an incredible amount of weight in an extremely short amount of time. Either you weren't eating of your own volition or someone was keeping food from you."
"I didn't starve myself," He was automatically defensive, before he suddenly realized that was basically admitting to it.
Shit.
"Which means I need to ask where you've been this past summer, because I know you had three square meals of arguable too-fatty foods at the castle. Hogwarts meals are bloody delicious." Healer Anastasia didn't so much as twitch at his inadvertent admission, just continuing her rhythmic wand movements as the air danced with the slow-moving wisps of curling blue smoke. Harry tried to ignore it all as his mind raced for what to say, but really just came up blank.
"If it makes you feel any better, it occurs to me that Lady Malfoy might already know." She continued when he was just silent for a couple seconds too long.
"What?" He shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat, and she elaborated.
"I must be thick as all hell, because it didn't occur to me at the time why the Lady would want me to come in on such short notice, nor the hefty fee I got paid to be here and not telling anyone back at St. Mungos I was going anywhere but taking some personal time this afternoon." She confessed, and Harry perked up. "I mean she's done it before—a lot of pureblood families pay healers under the table for house visits, and then even more to keep it quiet. No need to let others know they might be having moments of weakness or whatever if they come down with a cold or something stupid. And I mean everyone gets sick, even the scariest of snakes so they like to keep their bases covered like that."
With a smile then. "It didn't strike me as weird until you got cagey about a wand in your face that what is weird is that I got this call for someone outside the family. If it were just running into a wall, Turel would've fixed it with a snap—the fact they called in a real healer meant it wasn't just that and I'm an idiot for not realizing sooner. Sorry about that."
Even her apologies annoyed him, but he couldn't exactly do anything but sit here and do nothing while he waited for her to finish her work.
But reluctantly, he understood what she was getting at.
"You're saying Mrs. Malfoy knew." He had a sinking feeling, but in an odd way it did make him feel a little better. Healer Anastasia wouldn't be spilling his secrets if she told Mrs. Malfoy about his malnutrition and the blocks and all that—hell even the magical core thing, they'd already talked enough Transfiguration with her this afternoon that if she were to have enough pieces to put it together on her own then he himself had already done that earlier in the day. He wasn't actually going to lose any ground after this… if Mrs. Malfoy kept her trap shut. Then the only secrets he'd lost would be to these two women, and then probably Pomfrey and he liked Pomfrey more so he could live with that at least.
He wasn't thrilled that he'd already blown his cover without ever even knowing it'd been blown, but at least this wasn't the moment it had happened. It was indeed kind of a comfort to know he hadn't messed up—he'd never had a chance in the first place.
Which wasn't a nice thought, but it did make him feel better about this one particular thing. It was going to be a problem he'd have to figure out a way to fix as quickly as possible, but it wasn't a today problem, at least.
And the more he could shove his problems off for future-him to deal with, the better. He had enough going on, thanks.
"So." Anastasia continued. "I'm a Slytherin, Lady Malfoy's a Slytherin, you probably should've been in Slytherin… let's not beat around the bush and pretend we don't all know already. I admit I'm apparently the slowest one here but now I've caught up and if you don't tell me, that's fine." She gave him a pitying look. "Lady Malfoy will get what she wants in the end… or you could maybe just be honest with me as a healer and I'll give her enough to satisfy her without having her on your back for the next several months?"
He gave her a withering scowl. "Where was that deal ten minutes ago?"
"Hey, I just said I'm slow on the uptake, give me a break." She shrugged, going back to her rhythmic wand swaying and letting him mull the offer over.
Eventually, he figured a bone probably wouldn't hurt and if it held off Mrs. Malfoy from coming after him, the better.
"Alright then. My… relatives." She looked questioningly at him and he huffed. "I was with them over the summer. They're not fond of magic."
Most underrated statement of the year so far.
"And that relates to you not eating this summer because…"
He ground his teeth together but chose his words carefully anyway. "I didn't know about the magical world before my letter because they hated it so much. So, when I went to Hogwarts it was kind of… 'if I don't talk about it, they won't acknowledge it', kind of thing. Only… when I got back this summer there was an… incident."
"They saw you using magic?" She raised her brows in interest. "S'against the rules, you know." He could tell she was trying to keep it light by teasing him, but really the reminder only made his mood sink a few levels. Yeah, he knew it was against the rules, thanks for bringing it up again.
He really didn't like her.
"It was accidental." He tried to defend himself, but to his embarrassment his voice came out much quieter than intended.
Her wand didn't stop but her expression paused as she looked down at him in surprise. "Accidental magic? At your age, after going to Hogwarts for a year?"
"Yeah," he confessed gruffly. "Is that a problem?"
"I dunno, it's so out of left field I've never heard of such a thing to know if it was bad or not." She admitted, raising her eyes back to her wand movements as if thinking that over. "I'll be mentioning that to Madam Pomfrey too, because it's probably related to your magical core and she'll need all the details. Back to what you were saying though, you had a bout of accidental magic and I bet your magic-hating relatives weren't so thrilled with that."
He winced automatically, hoping she didn't notice. If she did, she didn't twitch from where her expression as watching her wand movements carefully.
"No, they weren't." He admitted in a subdued way.
Anastasia gave a thoughtful hum.
"So… they just didn't let you eat for it? As a punishment or whatnot?"
"I was grounded," He got out, hoping the grinding of his teeth didn't make it sound too weird. "So I missed some meals for it, yeah."
It wasn't a lie.
Not technically.
By the way she was humming, she seemed to be able to figure out how much he was editing anyway, but for once did the decent thing and didn't push.
"So at what point were you not grounded anymore? As in how many weeks or days ago did you get back on track with normal meals?" She asked and since it kind of sounded more like a medical question than the previous probing ones he answered it a bit easier.
"About three weeks ago, or so."
She just hummed again, and they fell into blissful silence as she continued her work.
It was as the blue mist was starting to fade and Harry sensed they were coming to an end of whatever she was doing, that she spoke again.
"You know, students are absolutely allowed to use magic if their lives are in danger. The rule is there to protect budding magical cores, and also prevent chaos of muggleborn children using magic out in the muggle world where it's slightly harder to regulate it, but like any weapon it's meant for self defense particularly when it comes to the defense of children. Yeah you might still get in trouble initially because bureaucracy and all that nonsense, but to get it overturned would be easy, especially if you have a healer vouching that it was necessary." She finally lowered her wand, the mist disappearing, and he watched her warily as she caught his eye.
"You don't like me, but I'd vouch for you if you needed."
He didn't like her and he did not even want to think about this right now. So he wasn't going to.
"Anything else?" he demanded, and she sighed loudly.
"Yikes, such a testy one." She complained to no one. "No, other than that you're fine. Once Turel gets back I'll tell Lady Malfoy you want to get out of here quick as you can—happy now?"
"No." He deadpanned, and annoyingly enough she just chuckled at him. It also occurred to him suddenly that she had not once mentioned a thing about say… a certain curse that Pomfrey told him he'd be feeling aftershocks from for months yet. He certainly did not feel much better than he had at the end of June, so it was weird healer Anastasia hadn't brought it up.
Or noticed? Was it possible she hadn't noticed?
She had implied Madam Pomfrey was really, really good at what she did… maybe she'd been able to pick up on something that the normal healer wouldn't normally notice.
He was ripped from his thoughts by a tiny puffing pop sounding in front of him, and Turel was back with a tiny bag of potions cradled between her arms, setting them on the coffee table between them.
He barely listened as she handed them to him in order and he just downed them, not even caring about the taste although they were definitely worse than calming draughts, ignoring the taste and gruesome textures in hope the faster he got them down, the faster this would be over with.
000
Neville was sitting on his bed in Gryffindor tower, late after the welcoming feast with Ron already snoring and staring at the glowing white owl on the windowsill.
Harry hadn't been on the train. Malfoy had even come to him to demand if he'd seen him, but one shake of his head and the guy had stormed off. He'd looked much calmer by the time they were getting off the train though, and although many had noticed, just as many had brushed it off as something that Harry was being weird about.
Neville wasn't sure how not being on the train and then also not being at the feast was Harry being weird, but he hadn't spoken up either.
Seeing Hedwig here when they got back to the dorm though was a huge relief, as it meant he would be here, he just wasn't yet.
By the time it got late and they were in bed attempting to fall asleep though, Neville was worried again about where he was if not here.
Harry hadn't written to anyone over the summer—not just that but no one's owls had even been able to find him and returned all their letters unopened. He'd initially been worried it was just him, but eventually he'd mustered up enough courage to write to Susan who was the most likely to know and also the nicest to not mind him reaching out randomly, and true to his suspicions she'd immediately responded saying Harry was back in the muggle world and her aunt—Amelia Bones were was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—had done a little research and found Harry's mail wards kept pretty much everyone out. Including Hogwarts, which apparently Dumbledore was attempting to fix but couldn't get around the goblins it seemed.
She'd apparently gotten a lot of questions from many people about the same thing, so her response sounded kind of standard.
So… it wasn't just him, but…
Harry had not looked good leaving for break at the end of last year. Like, not at all.
Like, to the point he hadn't cared that he'd spent the entire train ride back sharing a compartment with Draco Malfoy because the Slytherin was the least of his worries at that moment as Harry seemed constantly seconds from crying the entire time.
The fact he wasn't talking to anyone despite how much he'd always seemed to be talking so long as Neville had known him was really concerning actually, he just didn't know what to do about it. And he didn't like feeling helpless, he'd just… gotten used to feeling that way at some point, unfortunately.
No matter how normal the feeling was though, when it came to his friends he hated it.
So he was in bed, but he didn't fall asleep like the others slowly were. Instead he sat up and kept exchanging silent looks with a gleaming white owl in the autumn night as she too seemed to be waiting on something. Her big yellow eyes were eerily intelligent, almost trying to tell him something but…he didn't speak owl.
And it was really late, but eventually his patience paid off as the door to their dorm quietly opened, and his head snapped to the side at the sudden movement. He watched as Harry snuck in—his hair was much long and much sleeker, but tied back in a loose braid and his extremely colorful muggle clothes looking a bit disheveled, but he was otherwise unharmed.
Neville breathed out a sigh of relief.
He tried not to startle him as the redhead snuck towards his bed, but he wasn't that successful.
"Harry?" He whispered in the quiet night, and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin as he whipped around—and alarmingly enough suddenly had his wand pointed right at Neville where he sat in his bed. It was gone in an instant though as he realized he had spoken.
"Neville!? You're awake?" He whispered back, huge green eyes wide in surprise.
"Yeah, couldn't sleep." He shrugged, suddenly feeling a little awkward to admit that. "I mean… I knew you'd be here eventually. You okay?"
Harry seemed… a bit taken aback by that, which Neville thought was weird. Yeah he felt awkward, but it wasn't weird, right? They were friends, he was… moderately confident to say that, even believe it most of the time.
"You… waited up for me?"
He felt his cheeks get red hot at the quiet comment, but it was true so… "Ah, y-yeah? I mean, no one knew where you were. Hedwig's here though s-so I knew you would come back eventually..." He tried to defend himself in discomfort.
It was quiet for a long couple seconds in the dark dorm, with three other boys breathing deep in slumber and them just sitting/standing there, long enough that Neville was beginning to regret everything—when suddenly Harry lunged at him like he was going to tackle him.
Actually, he did kind of tackle him, but then he was having the life literally hugged out of him and he couldn't breathe but it was actually in a good way which Neville didn't quite understand but he was happy to go along with it and hug him back.
But then, he realized Harry was shaking and small sniffles were coming from behind his shoulder where his friend had buried himself out of sight, and he instantly had a newfound strength in hugging him as tightly as he could.
"Harry!? You okay!?"
"…I had a really bad summer." A small voice answered him, and something inside of the quiet lion caught life—like a small flame suddenly meeting a flood of pure oxygen. Suddenly the months of worrying about unopened letters went up in a plume of smoke that dissipated to nothing, because it didn't matter. "Well it's over now," He wasn't sure where he got the words from, but they came easy for once. "So it's okay."
He said it with a confidence that literally came out of nowhere. He wasn't even sure what it meant, but he felt obligated to say it to his strongest friend, who was actually crying right now for now clear reason.
… a small sniffle answered him, and he was hugged just a tiny bit tighter.
"Yeah. Yeah it is…"