Chapter 118: Chapter 118
His friends. Oh gods. What did his friends think of him now that he had killed? Would they still want to be his friends now that he was a killer? Would they still like him? Would they still want to spend time with him?
As if sensing his increasing anxiety, his body went into overdrive and his dry heaving turned into hyperventilating. His body began to shake, his breathing became labored, his hands clenched at the stained bedsheets, not even registering the vomit they were getting covered in.
He tried to stop, to calm himself down. He really did. But it seemed like the harder he tried the worse his condition became.
"Mr. Potter, quickly, drink this!"
Before Harry knew what was happening, he was forced back onto the bed, his mouth forcibly opened and one of the most fowl concoctions he had ever tasted was shoved down his gullet. His memory immediately cataloged the taste and told him he was drinking a calming drought, a powerful potion used to calm people down when their emotions were running high. This particular one appeared to be more powerful than the standard potion. Different ingredients too. Were it not for the fact that he had not given anyone else any of the potions he had made, he would dare say this was one of his.
His mind calmed as the potion took effect. Harry looked up to see Madam Pomfrey running a glowing wand over his body. The vomit that stained his bedsheets vanished.
"How odd," the woman muttered. Madam Pomfrey was a stern-looking woman with a no nonsense expression that would not be out of place on Professor McGonagall. She had gray hair and several wrinkles around her eyes, mouth and temples. She wore standard medical garb for mediwitch: white sleeveless robe with the Hogwarts crest sown over a long brown-sleeved shirt, and a white wizards hat that trailed down her head. "You do not seem to be experiencing any illness and I can detect no fever, but you are exhibiting some signs of the muggle flu. Pale face, vomiting..."
"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey," Harry rasped. Madam Pomfrey huffed.
"I will be the one to decide whether or not you are fine, and you, young man, are most definitely not fine."
Harry's mouth turned into a displeased frown. He opened his mouth to tell this woman off for thinking she knew how he felt better than him, when the double doors to the infirmary opened up and in strolled Albus Dumbledore.
"Ah." The Headmaster smiled as his eyes laid sight of Harry, the twinkle in them going strong. "I see you are finally awake."
"Headmaster," Harry greeted with a curt nod, masking his emotions well. The venerated wizard's appearance just a few minutes after waking up was too coincidental for him to just be 'happening by.' He must have known the exact moment Harry had woken up. A charm of some kind, perhaps?
"How are you feeling, Harry?"
"Fine, Professor," Harry replied politely.
"You are not fine, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey retorted. "People who are fine do not throw up the moment they awaken. Nor do they start going into seizures."
Harry's lips became a thin line. He opened his mouth to make a retort when Dumbledore headed him off.
"I was wondering, if perhaps, I could speak to Harry for a moment alone, Poppy?" The twinkle was redirected from Harry to the school mediwtich. "I promise it shan't take long."
Madam Pomfrey huffed, then sighed.
"As if I could stop you anyways. Oh, very well. You can speak to him, but make it quick."
As Madam Pomfrey walked off, Dumbledore turned his attention back to Harry.
"How are you feeling, Harry?"
Harry shifted.
"Fine, professor."
"You gave us quite the scare, you know?" Dumbledore continued, seemingly not bothered by the lack of enthusiastic response. "All of the teacher's were quite worried when Professor Snape found you in such terrible condition."
The Headmaster looked down at him. Harry shifted again and he smiled.
"You will be pleased to know that you're friends are safe."
There was a sudden relaxing of his posture as Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Even though he was still worried about his friends response towards what he had done, he couldn't deny that he had been worried about them. Incredibly worried. More than he wanted to be.
It was somewhat bothersome to feel so concerned about people he had only known for a month, but there was little he could do about that, so he did his best to put it out of his mind.
"That's good," he mumbled softly. "Thank you for informing me, Professor Dumbledore."
"Think nothing of it, my boy." Dumbledore's grandfatherly eyes twinkled merrily. "And now that we have that out of the way, perhaps you can inform me of the events that led to your encounter with the troll, as well as the encounter itself."
Harry frowned as he thought of the best way to explain what happened. He needed to be honest, but he didn't want to reveal anything too personal.
"I was practicing some magic in one of the unused classrooms on the second floor," Harry began carefully, calculatingly. He was interrupted by Dumbledore.
"And why did you decide to not come to the feast?"
Harry closed his eyes.
"I have no desire to celebrate Halloween."
"I see." Dumbledore seemed to age a bit. The twinkle in his eyes dimmed and it looked as if a great weight had settled on his shoulders. "I suppose I can understand why you would not wish to celebrate that particular day. Nor can I blame you. I would probably be of like mind were our positions reversed."
Harry gave the man a nod of acknowledgment, but didn't speak. After a moment, Dumbledore seemed to brighten again. Strength returned to his body and he was once more the Headmaster of Hogwarts and one of the most powerful wizards in the world.
"Please continue, Harry."
"Right," Harry sighed, "after a while I had gotten hungry and decided to go down to the kitchens to grab a bite to eat before heading off to my dormitory when I heard a scream. I recognized it and realized Hermione was in danger when her scream was followed by a roar and the sound of something being smashed to pieces."
Harry paused, then took a breath.
"I ran over to where I heard the scream and found Hermione huddled against a corner in the women's restroom. The room was destroyed, and the troll was standing over her readying a killing blow. I did the only thing I could think of. Distract it and grab the girl. I was hoping we could get away from it, but it chased us down the hall and managed to catch up. I decided to send her away while I acted as a distraction. It wasn't my best decision, but I couldn't think of anything else to do at the time. I thought I could distract the troll long enough for her to get a teacher, or for a teacher to find me. Then my friends came."
Harry felt a mixed reaction about that moment, the moment his friends found him and decided to stick around despite him telling them to run. On the one hand, he felt... happy, that they would risk their lives for him. It truly was nice to know they were willing to risk life and limb for him.
On the other, it was an incredibly foolish thing to do and they could have easily gotten themselves killed.
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