Healing

“I’m looking for an apprentice for next year.” Poppy smiles at him. Harry feels a clenching of his stomach. He shakes his head and focuses back on his book. “The person I take on will have their own quarters and won't have to take on as many classes as the people returning for their Eighth year.” Harry looks to her out of the corner of his eyes, only to see her smirking at him. “I’m looking for someone in Hogwarts, I used to take on from other schools, but with everything the students have been through, I believe it would be better to look within. Think about it?” Harry kept eye contact with her before nodding slowly. A huge joyful smile overtakes her face before she stands and begins to head over to the exit of the infirmary.

“That doesn’t mean yes!” Harry shouts over. “I will think about it. That’s all. Think!” Poppy waves her hand back dismissively, leaving Harry to sink back in his chair with a sigh. She is sure he will say yes.

He shut the book in his lap and threw it onto his professor's bed, where all his notes also lay, scattered haphazardly. He figured the professor would be very mad at the use of his bed, but it’s not like he was willing to say anything now. What he does not know will not hurt him, Harry recited. Harry was too tired to care.

The last few nights had not offered him any sleep or peace. He had been in strong denial of Snape's hand ever moving. Along with that encompassing thought, one of the patients in the wing had reopened a wound during the day and he had been on wrapping duty, meaning he had to be up to rewrap every few hours. After discovering Harry’s lack of sleep during the night, Poppy had put him on night duty. He did not mind it, he had always found sleeping during the day easier. However, when the days were now consumed by Dumbledore practically begging Harry to talk and Aurors arguing with Poppy against the wards, it was near impossible for Harry to get rest.

“Did you know that if Mr Sleepyface decides to wake up, he’d still be classed as Headmaster?” Harry’s eyes shot up at the familiar face. An unusually shy look sat on his features. Within mere seconds, Harry had bounded out of his chair and towards the red headed teen. “Hey, are you trying to knock me over!” Ron laughed as he wrapped his arms around Harry. His hand rubbed up and down Harry’s back for a minute or two.

“Sorry.” Harry mumbled into the shoulder of Ron’s threadbare jumper. From the smell, he presumed that he had been doing garden work that morning. “I’m tired.” He let out, as he pulled back, allowing himself to back into his chair. He was sure that the chair was practically molded to seat him perfectly by now.

“Same here, sleeping is not the same as before.” Ron took a deep breath, sitting in the chair that had previously sat Poppy. “So,” Ron paused for a few seconds as if deciding his words carefully “No Auror training?” Straight forward as always. Harry was more than thankful for that.

“Yeah, thinking about going into healing.” Harry answered back just as plainly, sparing Ron a sheepish smile. Ron nodded and patted his shoulder.

“Hermione mentioned that Poppy had you reading." He paused for a few seconds, which were agonizingly long. "I want to say sorry,” Harry was about to say there was no need to say so, when Ron continued. “No, Harry, there is a lot I should be sorry for. Mostly the Auror stuff. I guess I was just confused. We always talked about going into Auror training and then suddenly you didn’t seem interested. But talking to Hermione and my mum helped me understand. I guess I just figured that the war would motivate you to do it more, like it did me. Guess I was wrong about that.” A quiet laugh slipped out of Harry’s lips.

“Yeah, very wrong.” Ron smiled at him. “I just,” Harry took a deep breath. “If I am going to be helping people, I think I’d prefer the healing path. The last few weeks have helped me realize that I actually enjoy it. Being able to sooth people has felt so much more rewarding then stopping murderous maniacs ever did.” Ron laughed loudly at that, making Harry jump slightly at the suddenness.

“Sorry, but the only time that felt rewarding was when we stole the house cup from Slytherin. I don’t think being used as a human chess piece felt ‘rewarding’. Or, better yet, being consumed by jealousy because of a haunted necklace. Or, nearly having my sister murdered by a haunted book-”

“Or having words carved into my skin.” Harry joined in.

“Honestly! And they had the nerve to think an Order of Merlin would make up for that shit,” Ron crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. The teen’s attention quickly switched to the teacher in the bed in front of him. “Are you trying to bury him under all that parchment?”

“Not like he’s speaking up against it.” Ron looked at him with wide eyes before busting out into laughter, slapping his knee.

“True! Payback for the amount of homework he gave us. Here's twenty inches of parchment that you asked for, sir.” Ron mocked before the two laughed in unison.

Soon, the two calmed down into a comfortable silence. Harry allowed his eyes to close, focusing on the hum of magic around him, something he found easier as of late. Scents of old books and potions filled his nose, loosening his tensed muscles. The sun outside had lowered considerably by the time someone had decided to speak up.

“So, are you going to take the offer to be a Healing apprentice?” Ron said, nudging Harry’s shoulder. Harry’s eyes opened slowly, sleep caught in the corners.

“You heard that?” He asked as he raised his tired hand to his eyes. He noted a soreness in his wrist, probably from the repeated wrapping of bandages.

“Dumbledore was talking to me outside and I overheard.” Harry sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Is he trying to get you to persuade me into speaking with him now?” Harry scowled at the entrance to the hospital wing, noticing the barely there shimmer of the wards that seemed to solidify the more that he stared.

“Yep, not going to though. The only thing he deserves is to have his head shoved down a shit filled toilet.” Harry scoffed but nodded in agreement.

“It will be hard to avoid him if I take on the position though. Don’t even know why he’s here besides to make my life hell. Is he even allowed here after everything?”

“Don’t think so. But the Ministry seems too focused on convicting people rather then dealing with all that stuff going on over here. Wouldn’t be shocked if he is able to walk free since they don’t seem to care.” Ron’s face scrunched up as he shrugged.

Harry reached over to his glass of water, the one laying beside it still full. Before he can respond to Ron, he notices a flush of magic passing him. His eyes shot again over to the wards, only to see someone he didn’t notice standing on the other side of them.

“Fuck, that’s my queue to leave. He’s a friend on the Auror course, we have practice soon.” Ron grabs his bag that he must have been thrown at the bottom of the bed before looking back to Harry.

“Okay,” Harry stands to say goodbye. “I will come to the burrow some time. I don’t think it will be soon, but… I will try.” Harry’s voice is determined. Ron nodded gratefully over to him.

“I will let mum know. She’s been worrying, you know, like she does constantly.” Ron's open mouthed smile is too stiff. Harry’s chest grows tight, knowing that words won't come out now, he just nods. “See you, Mate.” Ron leaves after that, punching man outside on the shoulder before heading off out of view.

Left once again to the near silence in the room, he set to collecting all of his notes and placing them in a folder that Poppy had given to him. It was old but still held itself together well. He opened the bedside stand and slotted the folder in there, occupying it were all the other books given to him and the notes on said books.

He felt a wave of irritation take over him as he felt another pressure at the wards. Anger took over his features as he looked to the wards, anticipating Dumbledore’s hideous presence. Only, Dumbledore did not stand there. Instead a boy his age, a little taller, stood. Nott? Harry believed that was his name. Slytherin, death eater father. Harry felt his stomach squirm. However, the other boy’s strikingly blue eyes seemed glued to the wards, widened in, what Harry assumed to be, curiosity. The squirming lessened slightly. After a few seconds, the boy’s eyes shot to Harry as he schooled his expression.

“I’m here to talk to Poppy.” Harry just stared at him. Nott seemed confused by Harry’s lack of words. “Are you able to let me in?” Harry takes a second to focus on the slytherin’s voice. It was slightly deeper than he remembered from Potions class. Then again, they were all still changing and growing. Harry had noticed that he had grown a few centimeters and his hair was less tamed then it usually was in class. Realizing that an awkward silence was growing, Harry nodded rapidly.

“Give me a second.” He walked over to the wards. Closer up, he was able to take in more of the male’s features. He had thought his hair was black, but with the light shining on it, it was actually more of a dark brown. “Put your hand up against the wards.” Theodore did as told, even with his squinted eyes. Harry raised his hand and focused on the smell of potion ingredients and the sudden heat on his skin. It took four seconds before the heat disappeared. “There. Poppy is grabbing food right now, but you can wait.”

“That is fine.” The Slytherin's responses were short. Harry headed back to Snape’s bed, pointing to his cup and casting ‘Aguamenti’ with ease. The cup refills.

He feels Nott’s presence nearby and once he turns, he finds him leaning against the bed one over. Curiosity fills him as he watches Nott stare at the wall across from him in silence. The two stand there in silence. Harry did not dare sit. He did not know Nott well, but he knew his father was a Death Eater. Best be ready to defend himself.

“I’m not going to hex you, Potter.” The statue finally let out, looking at Harry with a blank face. Harry stands up straight.

“I never said you were going to!” Harry said defensively, jutting his chin out slightly. Nott raised an eyebrow, turning to face him properly. His hip leaned on the bed with ease, his arms crossed against his chest.

“You are acting like you’re expecting it.” Nott exclaims as a smirk takes over his blank face, making Harry’s brain stop working for a second. That smirk looks far too attractive. Harry pushes that thought out of his brain before it can go anywhere.

“Well, I got into the habit of expecting the worst.” Nott is silenced by that, his face going back to the blank look.

“Understandable.”

“Yeah, it is.” Nott does not say anything else and instead goes back to staring at the wall.