The cold air prickled Harry’s skin as he sat alone in the hospital bed. He was shivering, and every breath felt like it scraped against his lungs. He clutched the thin blanket tightly around him, but it did little to stop the trembling that wracked his tiny body. His eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, searching for something, anything that felt safe. But all he found were the beeping machines and the blurry figures of doctors and nurses hurrying by outside his room.
Aunt Petunia had dropped him off here hours ago, her lips pursed in that thin, disapproving line, muttering something about not wanting Dudley to "catch whatever filth" Harry had brought into their house. He’d tried to be brave, tried not to cry, but when he watched her walk away without looking back, his chest had tightened in a way that had nothing to do with the sickness filling his lungs.
He’d been alone ever since.
A soft knock came from the door, and Harry flinched, pulling the blanket higher. A nurse stepped into the room, and Harry shrank back. She was carrying a tray, but her eyes, warm and kind, were focused on him.
“Hello there,” she said gently, setting the tray on a small table by the bed. “My name’s Nurse Grace. How are you feeling, sweetie?”
Harry swallowed hard, his throat burning. “It hurts,” he whispered, his voice raspy and barely there.
Nurse Grace’s face softened with a sadness that made Harry’s heartache. “I know it does, honey. We’re going to take care of you, alright?”
She moved closer, and Harry tensed, expecting another painful poke or prodding, but instead, she held out something soft and fluffy. “I noticed you didn’t have any visitors, so I thought you might like these,” she said, holding up a pair of fuzzy socks, bright blue with little yellow stars on them.
Harry blinked at them, not quite believing they were for him. He reached out hesitantly, brushing his fingers over the soft fabric. “For me?” he asked, voice trembling.
Nurse Grace nodded. “Just for you.” She knelt down and carefully slipped them over his small, bare feet. The warmth spread through his toes, and for the first time that day, Harry felt something other than cold. He wiggled his toes experimentally, and a tiny smile tugged at his lips.
“There we go,” Nurse Grace said, her own smile wide and bright. “Now your feet are as cozy as can be.”
Harry’s eyes filled with tears, but this time, they weren’t from pain or fear. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “They’re really soft.”
“They are, aren’t they?” Grace agreed, tucking the blanket around him more securely. “You know, when I was a little girl, my mum always told me that fuzzy socks had a bit of magic in them. They make everything feel a bit better.”
“Magic?” Harry repeated, eyes wide.
She nodded, her eyes twinkling. “The best kind of magic, the kind that makes you feel safe and warm.”
Harry clutched the blanket and socks, letting the warmth seep into his bones. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt cared for. He wasn’t just the unwanted boy shoved into a cupboard or dropped off at a hospital to be forgotten. In this little moment, with his fuzzy socks and Nurse Grace’s kind smile, Harry felt seen.
And that was a magic all on its own.