Kapitel 338: HPF105-110
Chapter 105
On the Wednesday morning, after an
interrupted sleep with Astronomy, they were
having a lazy breakfast. However, Harry
wasn't eating that much.
When Daphne had had enough of his mood,
she turned to him and exasperatedly asked,
"Alright, Mister Broody; what's going on?"
"It's Unforgivables Day in 'Dah-Dah'," he
sighed.
"Oh, yes," she said, catching on. "I'd
forgotten about that."
"Well, what're we going to do about it?"
asked Hermione.
"We need to pull Neville aside, for starters,"
replied Harry. "This lesson
practically guts him."
"We'll make sure he sits with us, then,"
noted Daphne. "Next?"
"Do we fake the effect the Imperius curse has
upon us?" he asked right back.
"Do you mean, do we pretend we're affected
by it?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied.
"Why would we do that?" she asked.
"Because, how we react to it could be
information passed back to 'Babymort'."
"Ah!" she softly replied, now understanding.
"We pretend it affects us so Riddle thinks it's
an Unforgivable he can use against us."
"Precisely."
"Well, any disinformation we can pass on to
him may be a benefit to us," she said. "I say
we do it."
"I think that depends on what he tries to get
us to do, don't you think?" asked Hermione.
"I don't think he's going to try anything too
risky," mused Daphne. "I suspect it'll just be
something like 'dance on the table', or
something. However, if it is too much, we can
always pretend to fight it off, at that point."
"Leading him to think we're somewhat
susceptible, just not for something too
outrageous," thought Hermione. "That's
plausible. I say we do it."
As the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students
congregated outside the DADA classroom,
the three bondmates made sure to stand
with Neville.
"Neville?" asked Hermione.
"Yeah?" he asked back.
"We've heard Professor Moody is going to be
giving a talk on the three Unforgivables,
today," she explained. "We three think you
should sit with us, for this. Alright?"
Surprised and not a little fearful, the young
man looked between them - noting the
expressions on their faces - and reached a
decision. "Yeah; yeah," he replied, a little
relieved. "I think that would be best. Thank
you."
"We'll sit in the back," advised Harry. "If you
need to, look to us for support. If it gets too
much; leave. We won't think less of you if
you do, alright?"
A little bashful but clearly moved by the
gesture, Neville nodded and 'manned up'
standing a little taller. "I can do this," he
firmly said.
"We know you can," replied Harry. "But,
accepting moral support, is also wise. It's not
a mark of weakness."
As expected faux-Moody took them through
the Unforgivables. First he demonstrated
them on three spiders. And, as per last time,
Hermione shouted at him to stop torturing
one of them when he put the spider under
the Cruciatus curse.
What was different was that it wasn't Harry
who mentioned the killing curse, this time.
Rather, it was Seamus; as Harry held his
tongue. But faux-Moody still pointed out that
Harry was still the lone survivor of such a
curse. However, Harry didn't let it slide.
"What makes you think I survived it?" he
asked right back.
"Well, you're here, aren't you, boy?" Crouch
asked.
"So is everyone else in the room. That, in
itself, is not an answer," Harry shot back.
"What makes you... and the rest of the
Wizarding world... believe Voldemort shot
the killing curse at me, that night?"
Everyone, including Crouch, flinched at the
name 'Voldemort'.
"Everyone knows he fired the..." Crouch
tried.
"How?" Harry interrupted. "How do they
know? Supposedly, the only one who
survived that night in my parent's cottage
was me. And, I don't know whether he used
the killing curse or not. I was fifteen months
old, at the time. Plus, I've never spoken
about it.
"Again, why do you, and everyone else,
believe I survived the killing curse?"
Faux-Moody, Crouch, stood there with a look
of complete confusion and shock on his face.
The other students were all talking among
themselves about what Harry had said. And
glancing at him in their own levels of shock.
"Prior incantation..." Crouch tried.
"Only works on a person's wand,"
interrupted Harry again. "And Voldemort's
wand was never found at the scene."
Again, everyone flinched. But, Crouch roared,
"Stop mentioning his name!"
"I'm not," Harry calmly said. "If I was going
to mention his name I'd call him by it; Tom
Marvolo Riddle. Voldemort is just a silly little
anagram derived from his real name. His
shade told me that, himself, almost a year
and a half ago. He was quite proud about
how he'd fooled all the purebloods; seeing as
he's only a half-blood bastard.
"Come on, Professor. You're supposed to be
one of the greatest dark wizard hunters
magical Britain has ever known. And you
don't know his real name?"
"You lie!" he hissed.
Harry smiled back. If he pushed the man any
harder he suspected Crouch was going to end
up giving himself up.
Calmly, he walked from his seat up to the
front of the classroom, where he picked up a
stick of chalk from it's little shelf and began
to write on the blackboard.
First, he wrote in big bold letters TOM
MARVOLO RIDDLE across the top of the
board. Then, about three quarters of the way
down the board, he wrote I AM LORD
VOLDEMORT, also in big bold letters.
Then, he simply drew lines matching each
letter from the top name to the one below.
Once he finished, he dusted his hands off and
calmly walked back to his seat.
Everyone, including faux-Crouch, stared at
the board in shock. Harry, watching the
man's expression, saw him starting to put
things together. Such as, why Riddle was
currently holed-up in 'Riddle Manor'; and
why he wanted Harry transported to the
grave of one 'Tom Riddle'.
Chapter 106
The other students were animatedly talking
with one another, and looking at Harry with
expressions ranging from dumbfoundedness
to awe.
After a long few more moments, Crouch
erased the board and turned back to the
class. "Well, discovering the identity of the
Dar- of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named..."
"Riddle!" Harry interrupted.
"You-Know-Who!" Crouch almost snarled.
"But, he's not the subject of today's lesson."
Crouch managed to get control of his
emotions again, before he moved on to
demonstrating the Imperius curse.
This time he called Harry to be first. Harry
allowed for the hop on one foot, and for the
little dance, but finally pretended to snap out
of the curse when told to disrobe.
Hermione allowed herself to sing and dance,
then kneel in prayer. And was released.
Daphne, as expected, was 'forced' to dance
on a desk top and performed an admirable
cartwheel before being released.
As other students were put through their
paces, Harry was the only one who was
called up and demonstrated he was able to
snap out of the curse.
This time, Neville wasn't asked to hold back
at the end of the class.
Out in the corridor, after Crouch shooed
everyone out and slammed the door shut,
Harry was bombarded by questions about
Riddle, and why people believed he survived
the killing curse.
For the questions about Riddle, he just sent
them to the Trophy Room to look him up,
there. For questions about the Halloween
night in Godric's Hollow he turned the
questions back on them.
"Come on, people," he exasperatedly replied.
"Figure it out. No one survived, other than
me, so how did people come to the
conclusion Riddle fired the killing curse at me,
which then backfired and killed him?
"Merlin! Use your brains and come to your
own conclusions. Someone clearly guessed
and everyone else believes it to be true, or
someone just wanted to make me look like
some kind of reluctant hero. Possibly,
probably, to sell books about me and that
night."
Late into lunch, Harry received a summons
handed to him by Professor McGonagall to
see the Headmaster immediately after he'd
finished his meal.
"Well, ladies," he mused. "It appears the
Headmaster has heard about my little
demonstration in the Dah-Dah classroom and
wants to have words about it with me. Care
to join me?"
"I think we must," smiled Daphne. "We can't
have you getting into even further trouble,
now, can we?"
After finishing their lunch, the three walked
to the entrance to the Headmaster's office.
With a call of "Cockroach Clusters!" the
gargoyle leapt to the side and the three
ascended the moving staircase to the landing
outside the Headmaster's door.
Just before Harry knocked, they heard the
Headmaster from inside call, "Come in,
Harry."
Opening the door, Harry allowed the two
girls to precede him inside. Unsurprisingly,
Professor Snape was sitting on his stool in
the corner.
"Miss Greengrass? Miss Granger?" asked
Dumbledore. "I believe I only asked for
young Harry to join me."
"You did," answered Daphne, as all three
walked up to stand before the desk.
When she didn't say anything else, and
Hermione said nothing, he finally asked,
"Then, what are you doing here?"
"I asked them to join me, Headmaster,"
answered Harry. "The same can be asked for
why Professor Snape is here."
Snape looked ready to snarl something back,
but kept his mouth shut.
"Now, Harry, Professor Snape has my
complete trust and confidence," the
Headmaster smoothly said.
"In that case," said Harry, just as smoothly.
"Miss Greengrass and Miss Granger
have my complete trust and confidence."
Before Dumbledore could speak again, Harry
went on to say, "You summoned me,
Headmaster; and, I am here. What is it you
wished to speak to me about? I'd not like to
be late to my next class."
"I wished to speak to you alone, Harry," the
Headmaster tried.
"Oh," replied Harry. "My apologies." He then
looked directly at Snape and asked, "Would
you mind escorting my two ladies to wait
outside, Professor; while the Headmaster
and I converse? I believe we shan't be long."
Snape glared and sneered back before he
turned back to the Headmaster. Dumbledore
held up his hand and, looking at Harry, said,
"I thought I made myself clear, Harry.
Professor Snape has my complete trust and
confidence."
"And I thought I'd made myself clear, Sir.
Miss Greengrass and Miss Granger
have my complete trust and confidence.
Anything you need to say to me you can say
to them. Actually, anything you say to me I'll
say to them, anyway. So, their staying here
would just, as the muggles would say, cut out
the middleman and save time."
With an overly dramatic sigh, the
Headmaster said, "Very well." And conjured
two extra seats alongside the single chair the
three were standing behind. "Please take a
seat."
Harry waited until the other two were seated
before he sat in the centre chair. And all
three looked expectantly back at the
Headmaster.
Dumbledore rearranged himself a little and,
with a stern expression directed at Harry,
asked, "Now, perhaps you can tell me why
you felt it necessary to mention the dark
lord's real name in the Defence Against the
Dark Arts classroom, this morning."
"I didn't," replied Harry.
"Sorry?" asked Dumbledore. "I was led to
believe you did."
"No, Sir," replied Harry. "I didn't feel it was
necessary, at all."
"So, you didn't mention the dark lord's real
name in the Defence Against the Dark Arts
classroom? Nor, demonstrate how it was an
anagram of his real name?"
"Oh, no Sir," replied Harry. "I did both of
those. However, I didn't feel it was necessary.
I did it because it was the right thing to do.
"And, 'dark lord', sir? Really? You and I both
know he's no such thing. A 'dark wizard', yes;
but, a 'dark lord'? Definitely not. You give
him too much power calling him such
nonsense."
Chapter 107
The Headmaster sat with his eyes closed
looking like he was constipated.
"Harry," he said. "Why ever would
you do such a thing?"
"It was you who told me in my first year, Sir,
to 'Always use the proper name for things.
Fear of a name increases fear of the thing
itself'," explained Harry. "Voldemort's real
name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, and I'm using
his proper name, as you directed."
With another sigh, Dumbledore said, "Yes.
Well. I did say that, didn't I?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And, now I must ask you not to do that," he
instructed.
"You want me to lie about it, Sir?" asked
Harry, adopting a mien of confusion. "That's
not right. Besides, enough people have heard
it now the cat can't be put back into the bag.
I'm not now going to go around telling
people I misspoke. I won't lie to them, Sir."
"No, no," the Headmaster back-pedalled.
"No, you can't do that. I'm just asking that
you not... volunteer... any further
information concerning Vol- Riddle."
"If you wish, Sir," replied Harry.
"I do," he said. "Now, about you not
believing you were hit by the killing curse..."
"Again, Sir," Harry cut in. "I never said that. I
asked why everyone else believed I was."
"Because you were, Harry," Dumbledore
tried to explain.
"Really?" he asked right back. "How do
you know that? Because, frankly, I can't see
it."
"What do you mean?" asked the old man.
"There are two points that clearly show that
belief to be in error," Harry explained. "The
first is that a mere fifteen month old infant
survived being hit by a curse that has never,
and has never since, been survived. That, in
itself, is ludicrous. And, second, the killing
curse never leaves a mark on its victims. And
yet I, supposedly, received this scar from it."
He said, lifting his fringe to display the much
faded scar in question.
"Next, there are no survivors from within the
cottage that night, except me. Therefore,
there was no one there to witness what
curse was supposedly cast at me by Riddle.
With those points considered there is no
possible way anyone could know what really
happened in my nursery at that time. I
recognise that Pettigrew was probably
around somewhere nearby, but I'd laugh at
anyone who said he was the one who fancied
up the story I survived the curse. No, I was
the only survivor and no one's ever asked me
for my version of what supposedly
happened.
"It's my belief that whoever went around
spouting off that I survived the killing curse
that night, was spouting hippogriff dung. And
I challenge them to prove their facts.
Someone was just out to fancy me up as
some kind of superhero so they could sell
books or other products about me; or they
have some other, malevolent, purpose.
"I neither asked for, nor wanted, the
Boy-Who-Lived appellation. I have
absolutely no intention of being anyone's
hero, other than to these two ladies right
here," he indicated both girls. "If the
wizarding world needs a hero, you be that
hero, Sir. You've done it before and I don't
want the job. And, if anyone tries to force it
on me, they'll get it flung back in their face.
"My family have done enough.
I've more than paid my price. I lost my
parents, and my paternal grandparents, to
that nut-job. And, likely, my maternal
grandparents. I lost my godmother and her
husband to them; and my godfather lost
twelve years of his life to them.
"More personally, I suffered ten years of slow
emotional, psychological and physical torture
to them. Yes, it was those arseholes, the
Dursleys, who did that; but, I'd have never
even have met them if not for Riddle and his
lickspittles. I have paid enough. And there's
nothing anyone can say to me to tell me
otherwise.
"With that in mind, last weekend we secured
the services of a renowned wizarding legal
firm. One of their tasks is to go after all the
people who have unlawfully used my name
to sell their products. Their instructions are
to go after those people for every single knut
they've made off my name, together with
costs in damages to both my name and
reputation. If it drives them into bankruptcy,
I have no sympathy for them. They're just
vultures who were looking to make a quick
galleon."
Sitting back with another sigh, Dumbledore
said, "Thank you for your time, Harry. You
may go."
Harry immediately rose and, waiting for the
two girls to stand, escorted them from the
office without a backward glance.
"It seems spending a greater amount of time
with Miss Greengrass and Miss Granger is
making young Harry a bit more... forthright
and confident in speaking out," Dumbledore
said to Snape.
"He's even more arrogant than usual,"
sneered Snape.
"No, Severus," the Headmaster scolded his
Potions Master. "I said forthright and
confident. The boy is most definitely not
arrogant. He's lately been proving he
inherited Lily's clever mind."
Snape sneered a little more but held his
tongue on the subject for the moment. "If
that will be all, Headmaster; I have a class to
conduct."
"Oh; certainly, Severus," replied the
Headmaster, seeming to come back to
himself from his thoughts. "Then, don't let
me keep you from your duties."
As Snape stood and strode to the door, the
three bondmates were already well on their
way to their next class.
"Did you have to rub his nose in it, Harry,"
asked Hermione, scolding him a little.
"Anything to keep the man from meddling,
my love," he calmly replied. "The more we
can keep him hopping about trying to put out
'fires' I start, the less time he has to meddle
in our affairs.
"You know he's looking for a way around our
bonds to force me back to the Dursleys, don't
you? He's going to be even worse after the
night of the third task."
Hermione sighed and said, "I know. But he's
the Headmaster, Harry. We're supposed to
respect him, at least for earning that
position."
With a light unladylike snort, Daphne said,
"And he abuses that position, Hermione.
Where Harry lives outside of school terms is
none of his responsibility or business. I fail to
see how you can excuse him for his actions
simply because he's in a position of
authority."
"He's also Harry's magical guardian,"
Hermione explained. "That's why he has the
authority to order Harry back to the
Dursleys."
Daphne stopped them in the corridor, right
then. "What do you mean, he's Harry's
magical guardian? Harry's not muggleborn;
he doesn't need one."
Chapter 108
Coming to Hermione's defence, Harry replied,
"He had himself appointed my magical
guardian in the days immediately following
the attack on Godric's Hollow. And, he's been
using that authority to control me ever
since."
With a scowl Daphne huffed, "Well, we'll be
getting that stopped, then, won't we? Now
that we're bonded... if it's alright with you
two... I'll see if I can get my parents to agree
to get themselves declared as your magical
guardians."
Both other bondmates grinned back. "That'd
be brilliant!" Harry happily exclaimed, before
he calmed down again. "Of course,
Dumbledore's going to fight it every step of
the way. You need to let your parents know
they'll be in for one Hell of a fight with him
once it becomes public, and Dumbledore
finds out about it.
"Plus, is it actually important? After all, I'll be
emancipated around the 7th of November,
anyway."
With a smirk, Daphne replied, "You leave
that to us. The Greengrasses haven't been
Slytherins just because it was expected of
them. We know how the system works."
Smiling at each other, Hermione looked to
her and said, "Do it. Harry needs every
protection he can get."
With a nod and matching smirk from Daphne,
the three continued on to their next class.
That afternoon, while attending to
assignments, both Winky and Dobby popped
in.
"Guys?" asked Harry. "What brings you
here?"
"Dobby and Winky be here to report on the
status of their two missions, Master Harry,
Sir," replied Dobby.
"Oh?" asked Harry, before he remembered.
"Oh! The job of finding Luna's things, and
about the blood monitoring devices in the
Headmaster's office?"
"Yes, Sir," replied Dobby.
"Then, let's hear it," replied Harry leaning
back in his seat as the two girls listened in.
"Dobby and Winky, with help of the elveses
of Hogwarts, have searched the castle, top to
bottom," Dobby said as if giving a report, but
elf style. "We found lots of Miss Luna's
thingses. They have all been given back to
Miss Luna, and she is very happy. She was
very happy to get back her photographies of
her mother, the most."
Harry nodded as Hermione said, "Thank you
for doing that, you two. And, please, pass on
our thanks to the castle elves for helping."
Dobby and Winky both nodded with tears of
happiness in their eyes. Winky popped away
while Dobby stayed, wiping his eyes and
blowing his nose on a small handkerchief.
He then looked up and reported, "Dobby was
also being sneaky-sneaky and sneaked into
Headmaster Whiskers's office when he
wasn't there looking at whizzy and whirry
things with Master Harry's blood in them.
Dobby finded four of them.
"Instead of just taking out Master Harry'ses
blood from them, Dobby switched the
blood," the little elf said.
Harry chuckled and asked, "And whose blood
did you replace mine with?"
"Dobby waited until Headmaster Whiskers
went to sleep," explained the elf. "Then
Dobby taked some of his blood. Dobby
switched Master Harry'ses blood with
Headmaster Whiskers's. The little whizzy and
whirry things now still whiz and whirr and
Headmaster Whiskers not know it's his blood.
Then Dobby destroyed Master Harry'ses
blood."
Harry roared with laughter as Daphne giggled
and Hermione looked stunned.
"That's brilliant!" Harry finally managed to
get out. "Very, very well done, Dobby!" he
complimented the little elf.
Dobby dashed forward and hugged Harry
around his legs before popping away again.
"He really is such a clever little thing, isn't
he?" asked Daphne.
"He is," agreed Harry, nodding. "I'm so glad
to have him."
"How long do you think it's going to be
before the Headmaster figures out his
devices are no longer functioning as he
expects?" asked Hermione.
"That depends," he replied. "However, I hope
it's not until next summer."
"Depends?" asked Daphne.
"On whether or not... or how long it takes
him... to notice the devices still show me as
being in the school when he knows I'm not,"
he replied. "Remember, there's the
Hogsmeade weekends, then there's all the
running about outside of school grounds I've
still yet to do..."
"Such as getting your eyes fixed and us taking
you clothes shopping," she prompted.
"Exactly," Harry acknowledged. "And each
minute I'm out of the school grounds when
he's in his office is another minute when he
can notice there's something... not quite
right about... what his little devices are
telling him."
"Then, even with the devices no longer
tracking you, we still have to be careful?"
asked Daphne. "That's not right."
"Then, what do we do?" asked Harry.
"You had already planned for Dobby to go
into Dumbledore's office and... basically...
destroy any device that monitored you, yes?"
asked Daphne right back.
"Yes..."
"At that point you knew Dumbledore would
know he was no longer able to track you with
blood monitors," she continued. "At least
this way, he's not going to know until, and
unless, he specifically notices something
wrong," she explained. "I say, pretend the
devices are already destroyed and
Dumbledore knows you're not being tracked;
and just live life."
"She's right, love," opined Hermione. "Ignore
it. We'll have Dobby spy on him, if necessary,
while we're away from the school."
Harry sighed and nodded. "You're right," he
said. "It's just an advantage over him I'd like
to hang on to for as long as necessary."
"That little advantage is too small to put up
with the inconvenience of keeping it hidden,"
she explained. "Especially as it will, soon
enough, be lost. The cons outweigh the
pros."
Harry thought about that for a few seconds
before he decided she was, indeed, correct.
"You're right," he said. "Thank you for
pointing that out."
"Besides," she grinned. "As the devices will
still work, per se, it's going to drive him nuts
trying to figure out why they're still working
but not properly registering."
"Oh!" exclaimed Hermione, suddenly sitting
forward. "You mean, he'll then dedicate time
trying to figure out where the charms, runes,
whatever went wrong. That's something he
wouldn't have done if Dobby had just
destroyed them. Clever!"
Chapter 109
"Yet something else that'll occupy his time,"
mused Harry. "I like it."
The next day Daphne received permission
from her father for her mother to come and
collect them both to take them to Saint
Mungo's; and then on to Diagon Alley.
As they had double charms, first up, they
held back after class to speak with the little
Charms Master.
"Professor," Daphne began. "We... that is,
Harry, Hermione and I... need your
permission to leave the school on Saturday in
the company of my mother. We will probably
be gone for most of the day."
"And may I know the nature of this excursion,
Miss Greengrass?" he asked.
"Certainly, Sir," she replied. "First, we're
taking Harry to Saint Mungo's to see them
about his eyes. It's more than nigh time he
had them sorted. Second, we're taking him
to buy new clothing in Diagon Alley. I... that
is, Hermione and I... will not have him
wearing those cast-off rags his muggle
so-called guardians force him to wear, any
longer."
"I see," he smirked. "I had always wondered
why Mister Potter was constantly seen
wearing obvious cast-offs that are clearly too
big for him. I had begun to think it was some
kind of fashion statement."
"No, Sir," Harry half-growled. "It was all
my... relatives," he spat the word, "would
allow me to wear. 'Dressing you in anything
worth money is a waste of such money for a
freak like you!'" He mimicked his aunt.
"I see," exclaimed the Professor, clearly
shocked at Harry's words and the venom in
which they were spoken. "In that case, you
have my permission to spend the day away
from the school," he said, a little calmer. "I
take it you will be returning for the evening
meal?"
"Yes, Sir," Daphne firmly replied.
"Very well," he said. "I shall inform the
Deputy Headmistress you will be away for
the day."
"Professor, may we ask that you inform her,
say, on Saturday?" asked Hermione, a little
sweetly.
"They're afraid... and it's warranted, in my
opinion... that the Headmaster will attempt
to stop me leaving the castle," replied an
overly calm Harry.
The little Professor looked back at the three
of them for a few moments, and mused, "Yes,
I see your point. He does seem overly
interested in you, doesn't he, Mister Potter?"
"Yes, Sir," Harry flatly replied. "I happen to
find it quite... unsettling."
"Hmmm..." the Professor smirked. "As there
is no time limit by which I advise the senior
staff when a student seeks to leave the
grounds. And, as you will be in the company
of the parent of one of your bondmates, I see
no reason to alarm anyone as to your leaving
for the day. I shall inform the Deputy
Headmistress on Saturday; perhaps about an
hour after you leave?"
With matching smirks, the three said, "Thank
you, Professor." Before getting up to leave.
After Daphne had 'borrowed' Hedwig, and
sent her mother the confirmation a couple
days earlier, the three quickly hurried
through their breakfast on the Saturday and
headed out of the school to meet Deece at
the front gate. They felt it was better to meet
her there than to raise the Headmaster's
suspicion by having Deece meet them in the
Entrance Hall.
They only had to stand inside the gates for a
few minutes before Deece approached from
the Three Broomsticks.
"Ready, you three?" she asked.
With near-matching nods, the three quickly
exited the gates and followed the older witch
back to the Three Broomsticks. They Floo'ed
directly to the arrival point inside Saint
Mungo's and sought out the Welcome Witch.
"Mister Potter for an appointment with
Healer Jennings," Deece quietly whispered to
her.
The Welcome Witch's eyes widened when
she heard the name, and her eyes
immediately met Harry's for a bare flicker
before they travelled the couple of inches up
to his scar. Harry scowled back, making the
witch blush a little.
"Third floor, east wing," the witch muttered
to Deece.
With a nod, Deece led the three up the stairs
to the right wing and down the passageway.
She led them direct to a plain door with a
brass plaque that bore the name 'Healer
Tomas Jennings, Eye Specialist'. Without
even knocking, she led their small party in.
"Madam Greengrass," the slightly portly man
in wizarding hospital scrubs said, as he stood
up from behind his desk. "A pleasure
to see you," he said, with slight emphasis on
the word 'see'.
"Tomas," she said, holding her hand out to
the man for the back of her knuckles to be
lightly kissed. "That joke gets older with each
passing minute."
Healer Jennings didn't seem to look the
slightest abashed from her remarks. Instead,
he looked even more pleased. "I see your
point," he replied, again emphasising the
word 'see', and chuckling a little.
Deece just rolled her eyes as the bondmates
all grinned.
The healer turned to Harry and said, "And,
it's nice to meet you, Mister Potter. I see the
reports of your three-way bond are accurate.
Madam Greengrass tells me you're here for
me to have a look at your eyes."
Harry immediately decided he liked the man.
"Yes, Sir," he replied with a grin. "I've
been looking forward to seeing you."
Healer Jennings barked in laughter for a
moment. "Yes, well," he said, calming down
again before he indicated a chair in the
corner that looked a lot like a muggle
dentist's chair. "If you won't
mind seeing your way into taking a seat in
my personal torture device, we can get
started with having a look at your eyes"
Harry chuckled and shook his head before
walking over, sitting down and leaning back
in the chair.
As the other three sat in three normal seats,
Healer Jennings brought over a wheeled
stool and parked it next to Harry, near his
head.
Without so much as a by-your-leave, he then
reached out and plucked Harry's battered
spectacles off his face. And, with healer's
wand in hand, cast a small charm on them.
Harry didn't know what all the little figures
that then hovered over his glasses meant,
but it was obvious the healer did.
Placing the glasses on a little swivel tray, the
healer then turned to Harry more directly.
Chapter 110
"Now, let's have a look," he muttered waving
his wand over Harry's face.
The healer rapidly developed a frown before
he sat back a little and muttered, "That's not
right."
"Oh?" asked Harry, a little concerned.
Focussing back on Harry, the healer
explained, "Your glasses do not match the
correction you need, Mister Potter. If
anything, they're making matters worse. Do
you get headaches towards the end of each
day?"
"Sometimes," replied Harry. "But, that's
usually if I've been studying for too long; or,
focussing on the one thing for too long."
"Hmmm..." the healer nodded. "For a start,
you really don't need glasses, Mister Potter. I
take it you acquired them in the muggle
world?"
"Yes, Sir," replied Harry, not wanting to
elaborate.
"Well, your eye problem is quite easy to fix,"
explained the healer. "All it takes is a few
drops of a potion in each eye. Then we
bandage your eyes to keep light out for
about an hour before removing the bandages
once more."
"Then what?" asked Harry. "Then, Mister
Potter, your eyesight will have been repaired.
No more need to wear spectacles!"
Looking a little gob smacked, Harry stared
back and asked, "Really? It's that easy?"
"Yes, Mister Potter," the healer replied, a
little surprised. "Would you like me to
proceed?"
"What? Now?" asked Harry, surprised again.
"Yes, of course," the healer returned. "You
won't need your glasses by the time you
leave this office."
Harry glanced over at Deece and his two
bondmates. Clearly they recognised his
expression as one of pleading.
"Do it, Harry," replied Deece to his
expression. "The ladies and I can spend the
time in the cafeteria while we wait."
Turning back to the healer, Harry was almost
in tears. "Do it," he firmly stated.
"Excellent," the healer replied with a smile.
He then rose from his chair and went to the
large cabinet behind his desk. He pulled out a
small potion phial with an eyedropper and
two leather-like pads.
Returning to his stool he described, "First,
I'm going to place a light numbing charm on
your eyes. Then I'm going to place four drops
of this potion in each eye, and immediately
ask you to close each as I finish with it. And,
finally, I'm going to be placing these special
eye pads on each eye and hold them in place
with a light sticking charm. So, please don't
try to remove them until I come back and
remove them for you."
Harry nodded that he understood and tried
to relax.
Just as he described, Healer Jennings worked
until both Harry's eyes wore the patches. He
then said, "The reason for the numbing
charms is because I've been told how the
potion can be somewhat uncomfortable
while it's working. And, while it's working,
I'm turning on my little wizarding radio for
your listening pleasure. Any choice of
stations?"
"No, Sir," replied Harry.
Harry heard the healer turn the radio on and
hear the sounds of Celestina Warbeck singing.
It wasn't loud, but it was soothing.
"I'll be working at my desk, Mister Potter,"
the healer then said. "I hope you forgive me
if I start singing along to the radio. I've been
told it's a good thing I answered the call to
become a healer. Apparently, my singing
voice is quite dreadful." The healer made it
sound as if he was somewhat offended by
that observation.
Harry smiled but didn't respond.
He also realised his bondmates and future
mother-in-law had already left. It was then
he realised he almost referred to them as his
'family'. But, he also realised, that's exactly
what they were, his family; along with
Matthias and Astoria. For now. The thought
made him smile.
After a while he was daydreaming about
what the future had in store for 'The Potters'
when Healer Jenkins called from his desk,
"Alright, Mister Potter. It's time for me to
take those patches away."
Harry suddenly tensed a little; realising the
time of truth about his eyes was at hand. He
listened as the healer approached and pulled
his little stool in closer. "Let's have a look,
shall we?"
Harry barely felt the pads being removed but
kept his eyes shut for the whole time.
"Alright, Mister Potter," the healer said.
"Time to open your eyes."
Harry blinked them open, but saw that
everything was still a little blurry. He could
also see that the healer's left hand was
shading his eyes.
Harry frowned a little as he knew he couldn't
see properly.
"Do not fret, so, Mister Potter," the healer
chuckled a little. "The numbing charm is
stopping your eyes from focussing properly.
One moment."
Harry saw the healer wand come back and
pass over his face with a muttered, "Finite,"
and his vision cleared.
Gently and a little slowly, the healer pulled
his hand away, and Harry realised everything
was in perfect focus.
Seeing the expression on Harry's face, the
healer chuckled and said, "I can see you're
surprised with how well you can see now."
Harry turned his eyes to the healer with a
look of almost awe. "Wow!" he softly said.
"Indeed," the healer chuckled again.
Adjusting the chair for Harry to sit a little
straighter, he pointed to a chart on the wall
alongside his desk that Harry looked straight
at, and instructed, "Start reading from the
top of the chart, please."
Harry did so and only started to get difficulty
on the second bottom line.
"Excellent," said the healer.
When Harry frowned, the healer gently said,
"I don't expect you to read any better than
that, Mister Potter. I did, once, have a wizard
who had the animagus form of a hawk who
managed to read the bottom line. But, that
was the only time."
He then patted Harry on the shoulder and
said, "You just rest there, for the moment,
and I have a little ceremony for you to do."
Before he rose and returned to his cabinet.
From the bottom he pulled out a big
cardboard box and brought it back. Holding it
for Harry to look within, he smiled and said,
"This box contains all the spectacles of those
who wore them and whose eyes I recently
fixed. You no longer need yours, Mister
Potter; so, throw them on in!"
Harry realised he had automatically picked
his up from the tray, where the healer had
placed them earlier. He looked down at them
in his hand, grinned, and lobbed them into
the box.
"Well done, Mister Potter!" the healer
almost crowed. "Just so you know, each time
this box fills, I send it off to the muggles
for their use. I don't know what happens to
them then, but..." and shrugged with a grin.
Harry had just finished swinging his legs off
the side of the chair when Deece and his
bondmates... his family... returned. He
immediately grinned at all three.
"That's better," Daphne softly said, coming
closer to have a better look. "Now I can see
those lovely emerald eyes better."
Hermione, also coming closer, smiled and
said, "You're almost twinkling like the
Headmaster."
"Hey!" he exclaimed, mock hurt.
Both girls giggled.
"What next?" Deece asked, already knowing
the answer.
"Shopping!" both girls suddenly and happily
exclaimed in reply.
With a smile, Deece looked to Healer
Jennings and said, "Bill it to the Potter
Accounts."
With a smile and a nod in agreement, the
healer turned to Harry and said, "It was a
pleasure to see you, Mister Potter. If you
have any problems, please come back
and see me."
With a grin back, Harry stood and said,
"Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much."
"You're most welcome."
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein