Kapitel 43: Bedside Manner
Outside the Hospital Wing, Durmstrang, April 20 th
"Harry," Viktor protested, "I really don't like this idea."
"Calypso's been in the hospital wing for five days, Viktor, and none of the Professors will tell me how she's doing. It only took a day for me to re-grow my entire scapula. I just want to make sure she's alright."
"Why don't you just ask Professor Rosemburg again? Maybe he'll tell you something this time."
Harry snorted and gave Viktor a look that clearly said 'Are you kidding me?' Harry had tried asking his teachers, and even Lady Doktor, about Calypso's condition, but all they told him was that the situation was being handled. Harry had gone to the hospital wing under the pretense of a migraine yesterday, and he knew that Calypso had been given her own room at the end of the ward. Harry wasn't sure what was wrong with her, but he wanted to at least make sure she was going to be alright.
"But why do I have to be the one who gets cursed?" Viktor whined.
"Oh, come on, Viktor, it's just a Babbling Curse. It won't even hurt you. It'll just take some time for the matron to fix."
"I still don't like this," Viktor said half-heartedly.
"Viktor," Harry said softly, "Calypso's my friend."
"Someday you will have to tell me how that happened," Viktor said, unable to understand why Harry would befriend the violent girl who was known for viciously cursing people with the Dark Arts. Outside of Harry, not a single person even seemed to care what happened to Calypso. In fact, there was more concern over Calypso's attacker, Reginald Burke, than Calypso. Burke hadn't been seen since Professor Kosarev levitated him into the dungeons, and it was rumored that Calypso's father had arrived and driven the boy insane with the Cruciatus.
"Stop stalling," Harry said as he took out his wand.
"Fine," Viktor grumbled, "but if we get in trouble, I'm going to send Kira to kick your ass."
"I'm terrified," Harry said sarcastically as he sent the curse at Viktor. "Did it work?"
"Idon'tknowifitworkedornotIdon'?Ohwowthisis–"
"Alright it worked, let's go." Harry said, dragging Viktor around the corner and into the Hospital Wing. "Lady Shluga, there's been an accident."
The large matron of the hospital wing was quickly upon them in seconds. "What happened?" she demanded.
"Viktor and I were practicing some spells when he tripped and fell into a Babbling Curse. I don't know the counter, and the book said that if done wrong..."
"Yes, Mr. Potter, you did the right thing bringing him here. Thor's bloody hammer, I hate this time of year. Students playing around with magic beyond their ability and constantly causing accidents when they can't control their final projects. Well, take a seat Mr. Krum, you're going to be stuck here until I can find the proper counter-curse. At least you're not physically harmed." Lady Shluga left Viktor sitting on a bed and quickly walked towards her office where she kept some of her more obscure healing books.
"'—"
"Silencio. Relax, Viktor. The Babbling Curse is just a tad bit obscure. It'll probably take her an hour or so to find the right counter and figure out how to do it," Harry whispered as he left his glaring friend sitting on the bed and walked toward Calypso's private room.
Tapping his wand against the doorknob, Harry tried to use Alohomora, but the door didn't budge. Damn. He had really hoped that there wouldn't be any more security on the room. He was about to try a more advanced unlocking charm when an angry voice spoke up from directly behind him. "Just what do you think you're doing, boy?"
Harry spun around, and found himself looking up at an angry-looking man with white hair and dark brown eyes. The man wasn't dressed in the traditional blood-red robes of Durmstrang; instead, he was wearing a black robe with a cloak over his shoulders. His wand was out, and it was glowing a particularly nasty shade of violet as its owner pointed it at Harry's chest.
"I asked you a question," the man growled, pressing his wand to Harry's chest. "Why are you trying to break into my daughter's room?"
Harry's eyes widened in horror as he realized who had caught him trying to break into Calypso's room.
With narrowed eyes, Calypso's father raised his wand from Harry's chest and made a slight flicking gesture. It was a seemingly innocuous wand movement, but Harry felt all the air in his lungs leave and he fell to the floor gasping for breath.
"I shall ask one more time before I get upset," Mr. Rosier said calmly. "Why were you trying to break into my daughter's room?"
"I wanted to make sure she was alright," Harry gasped from the floor.
Mr. Rosier paused and looked curiously at the boy on the ground in front of him. "And why would the health of my daughter be of interest to you?"
Harry slowly picked himself up, slightly rubbing chest. "Calypso's my friend, sir, and it's a little bit my fault that she was hurt. I just wanted to make sure she was going to be alright."
The man seemed to appraise Harry for a moment before he lowered his wand. "So, you are the Potter brat that Burke was attempting to curse. I should have realized. Up close you do resemble your father, though you seem to have inherited your mother's eyes," Mr. Rosier said disapprovingly.
Not wanting to think about when Calypso's father might have been close enough to discern his mother's exact eye color, Harry hesitantly asked, "Is Calypso going to be alright?"
Mr. Rosier simply stared at Harry for a long moment, and he quickly became very uncomfortable. Harry felt like he was being judged, and the last thing he wanted at the moment was to appear lacking.
"The curse that Burke cast was supposed to be an entrail-expelling curse, but the fool hadn't practiced it enough. Naturally, he screwed it up. Do you know what happens when you cast a spell that you have no control over, Potter?" Mr. Rosier demanded.
Harry nodded hesitantly. "They're very dangerous. Back at Hogwarts I destroyed a lot of furniture practicing the Engorgement charm."
"While in some cases an imperfect spell will have no effect, more often than not, like your failed engorgement charm and Mr. Burke's entrail-expelling curse, an imperfect spell's effects are very different from those of a properly executed spell." Mr. Rosier waved his wand and then taped it against Calypso's door. Harry heard the click of a lock, and Mr. Rosier pushed it open. Harry wasn't going to follow, but Mr. Rosier held it open for him. "Well, you wanted to see her condition, did you not?"
Harry nodded his head and stepped into the room. It was very dark at first, but a wave from Mr. Rosier's wand caused several torches to ignite. Harry simply took in the sight in front of him. Calypso was resting on the bed, seemingly unconscious. She looked fine, but the angry look on Mr. Rosier's face told Harry that clearly wasn't the case. "What happened?"
"Instead of causing the intestines to be vomited out, the spell acted as a very powerful rupturing curse, and destroyed both her small and large intestines as well as doing indiscriminate damage to other organs," Mr. Rosier said, looking murderous. "She will recover, but having to repair and grow back internal organs is not as simple as replacing a bone or rebuilding a muscle. It is a very dangerous process, involving dozens of potions, some of which are very difficult to brew, making acquiring them difficult. She will remain in the hospital wing for several more days at the very least. Now, has this satisfied your curiosity?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said looking at the prone figure of Calypso. It felt very odd seeing the girl look so vulnerable.
"Good," Mr. Rosier said. "Now, do you care to explain your relationship with my daughter?"
Harry swallowed nervously. "We've been studying with one another for a while, sir. Calypso has been helping me with some spells and my final project so I can skip my second year Dark Arts class."
"My daughter is hardly benevolent, Mr. Potter. Why would she help you?"
"Well, it's not exactly one-sided. I'm in third year Charms and Transfiguration, and I've been helping her so that she can test into her third year Charms and Transfiguration class next year."
"I see. You said you were my daughter's friend. However, Calypso has not ever mentioned having a friend," Mr. Rosier said snidely.
Harry looked a little down at the news. "Well, I can't speak for her, but I consider her a friend, sir. That spell was meant for me, and I just wanted to make sure she was alright."
As Harry was about to leave Calypso's private room, Mr. Rosier spoke up. "It doesn't bother you, Potter, that your father and I met on a few less-than-friendly occasions during the war?"
Harry froze. His father hadn't told him and his brother a lot about the war, and it took every ounce of self control Harry possessed not to turn around and gape at Mr. Rosier. Harry took a moment to calm himself. Getting mad or defensive would not be a good thing. Not now. Slowly, he thought about what he knew. The Rosiers were Death Eaters. His father was very close to Dumbledore and a member of the Order of the Phoenix, an organization he had overheard his uncle Sirius talking about once with his parents after they thought he and Nathan had gone to sleep. It wasn't completely impossible that Mr. Rosier and his father would have fought. The thought made some bile rise up in his throat. Harry found it very hard to imagine his father in any kind of war that didn't involve pranks.
Slowly, Harry turned around and saw that Mr. Rosier was still waiting for some sort of reaction or comment. Doing his best not to show his nervousness, Harry quietly said, "It was a war. You were on different sides."
"How very... understated, Potter, but correct, I suppose," Mr. Rosier commented darkly. "What if I told you that I didn't want you near my daughter?"
"I doubt that's up to either of us," Harry said more boldly than he felt. "If I told Calypso I couldn't help her anymore, well, she would probably yell at me, then curse me, and afterwards say that we aren't done until she says we are."
Harry wasn't sure, but for a second he thought that he saw a small smile start to form on Mr. Rosier's face before the man went back to being frighteningly stoic. "Yes, my daughter can be quite tenacious at getting what she wants. She got that from her mother, who was just as unyielding."
After a few tense moments, Harry realized that Mr. Rosier wasn't going to say anything else to him, so he subtly left the room. He didn't know what to think of Mr. Rosier. The man appeared to care about Calypso, but Harry was more than a little bit intimidated by him.
As Harry approached the exit of the Hospital Wing, he spotted an irritated-looking Viktor being fussed over by Lady Shluga, and he couldn't help but smile at the Bulgarian's blabbering protests at being poked with her wand.
"All better?" he asked.
"No!Thiscursedoesn'twanttobetakenoff,andnowshethinksit'lltakemorethan—"
Lady Shluga quickly cast a silencing charm on Viktor, who was now doing his best to send a murderous glare at Harry. "I'm afraid Mr. Krum is going to have to spend the night. I have done the counter-curse, but it looks like it won't take effect for a few hours. His speech will slowly return to normal, but not all at once. That was a nasty curse, Mr. Potter. You should perhaps practice someplace safer so that other students don't get harmed."
"I will, ma'am. See you later, Viktor," Harry said, smiling innocently at the angry Bulgarian.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein