Healers & Letters
“Lestrange!”, Harry blurted, before he could stop himself. “Aren´t those Death Eaters?”
The blond girl on the second portrait laughed at him kindly, while the man´s expression soured, disapproving lines showing on his face: “Wrong generation, deary. We´re much older than these nitwits.”
“Oh”, the Gryffindor said, blushing lightly. “I´m sorry. I didn´t mean to be disrespectful.”
“It´s quite alright, dear”, the girl told him. “You do look a bit overwhelmed. Maybe a good cup of tea would be beneficial?”
“Yes, ma´am.”, Harry said politely, but was interrupted by the portrait immediately.
“Don´t you madam me, young one. I´m Rita. Rita Lestrange, yes, but please, I´m not used to being called with anything but my given name, seeing as I died too early to be considered an adult.”
“I´m sorry”, the Gryffindor told Rita honestly. “Can I come back to talk to you both later? I´m sure you have fascinating stories to tell.”
“You are welcome to do so”, the man stated from his portrait.
Now that he was looking closely, Harry could see they truly had to be from another era. Their clothes were antique rather than old-school or vintage and the furniture in the portraits didn´t look much like modern style furniture either. Both portraits sported dark blue background however, not the Slytherin colours Harry would have expected from a Slytherin-house based family and the Lestranges were such, if the information in the Hogwarts library student records was to be trusted. Maybe they hadn´t always been in that house or they simply liked a different aesthetic, Harry didn´t know. What he did know was even though the portraits had been kind and polite to him, he wouldn´t trust them with any personal information until he was sure they wouldn´t tell another of what he told them.
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Harry took his lunch out into the garden, driven by his curiosity to check out the treehouse. Also, going into the garden might have the side benefit of not being in the way of any of his professors. He thanked the portraits again in passing before taking the stairs from the tearoom down into the garden then beelining towards the treehouse.
Coming closer towards the treeline, Harry noticed the runic wardline – it really was obvious – as well as a small, plain looking altar underneath the great oak the treehouse was built on. A short ladder led up into an entrance room almost as big as the entire house looked from the outside but connecting doorways and another ladder led away from the entrance room into further rooms. It was similar as the Weasley´s tent, Harry thought. Wizarding space it was called. When he tried to go into the next room however, the Gryffindor was met with an invisible barrier, anchored to the doorway.
The entrance room was pretty enough, the Gryffindor thought. He might as well stay there for a while before going back into the manor house later in the day. The whole room was overgrown with plants, though the placement of the plants seemed to be strategic, rather than chaotic. It, too, wasn´t ivy on the walls but another climbing plant Harry didn´t know. He had seen it before in Little Whinging, it was a common enough plant to have on walls and fences, since it didn´t destroy the stone in the same way as ivy did, but Aunt Petunia had never been generous with informing Harry about the names of plants that she liked or disliked, just their description. Lying on his back, the Gryffindor stared at the ceiling, letting the soft sounds of the surrounding forest guide him into sleep.
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Harry was woken up two hours later by a beautiful doe Patronus nudging his foot. He took a moment to orientate himself, telling himself that no, he was not in the middle of a forest. This was a treehouse. In the meanwhile, the doe Patronus was waiting on him to wake up fully, before it imparted it´s message in Professor Snape´s deep voice.
“Mr. Potter, would you do us the honour of finally embarking on your journey to the kitchen. You´re late.”
Stretching himself a little, the teen watched the doe Patronus bounding away again, jumping merrily through the wall as if it didn´t exist. He quickly climbed down the ladder to the garden and went towards the tower entrance to make his way to the kitchen, waving to the Lestrange portraits in passing. Stopping shortly at the kitchen door, Harry dusted off his clothes before rounding the corner and entering the kitchen.
“Ah, Harry. Please sit down. I´m afraid Severus already had to go tend to a potion, but your dinner is on the counter over there”, Sinistra told the teen, a bright smile on her face.
As he collected his food, Harry noted a week schedule lying next to it on the counter with a pen, the Saturday already marked with “weeding the garden” and, for some reason, the Wednesday with “Mind Healer”. Since he considered it might be his, the Gryffindor took both items with him to the table and showed them to Professor Babbling. At his distracted nod, Harry took the pen and marked Monday with “cooking” and Wednesday with “cleaning”.
“Ah, yes, your chores. That reminds me, you won´t need to do your chores in the next week. Instead, on Monday, you have a healer’s appointment. They are likely to give you your missed vaccinations, so don´t plan anything strenuous for the week, alright?”, Sinistra told Harry.
“Uhm, ok.”, the teen mumbled, piercing a piece of potato on his fork. “Anything else?”
“Yes, actually.”, Babbling interjected into their conversation. “The three of us will be gone tomorrow evening. Severus reminded us earlier to tell you that your dinner is going to be left under a stasis charm on the counter. Please put away any leftovers in the fridge over there.”
Harry nodded distractedly, munching on his steak and potatoes.
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Sunday morning brought letters, delivered to Harry by Professor Babbling as he trudged into the kitchen with the days Daily Prophet. Today, the title page proclaimed “Outrages Flower Shop Accident disrupts Diagon Alley”, which immediately put Harry off of reading the newspaper. Claiming his letters quickly and putting them in his pocket, the Gryffindor returned to his room after breakfast. Ripping open the first of the bunch, Harry had to smother a laughter.
Hey Harrykins,
Glad you finally got rid of your prison keepers. Can we expect a return and if so, will you need either alibi or rescue?
Living with a professor, eh? Is it the cat? If so, please send some of her personal catnip stores with your answer, we need it for a most ingenious prank.
Will you be able to visit us this summer? We are staying at Prewett Manor for July, so you won´t even run into Ron, though Ginny will not be present either.
Delightfully yours
Fred & George Weasley, Heirs Prewett
Susan´s letter was similar, if not as funny or chaotic. She, too expressed relief that he wasn´t with his relatives anymore, though she worried some, since he hadn´t quite told her just who he was living with now. As well, she wrote, regretfully she wouldn´t be able to meet up with Harry this summer if he wasn´t at Leon´s for August, as she was busy with family training during July and would be visiting Leon´s for the whole of August.
The Lovegood twins’ letter asked Harry to meet up with them on the 24th of July, as they would be meeting up on that day with Ginny and Harry would have time on that day as well. Honestly, the Gryffindor was a bit creeped out, that they wrote this so confidently, but tentatively agreed to do so in his reply, if the professors would agree to let him go. After that, the teen quickly scratched out replies to Susan and the Weasley twins as well and then promptly forgot them in his room as he went out to go exploring again.
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Monday morning brought the dreaded healer appointment. Snape collected Harry shortly after ten in the morning and told him to take his cloak, as they would be apparating to a clinic on the edge of a cliff and the weather there tended to be very cold compared to the rest of the country. They were held up further by Sinistra, as she insisted they decide which of the five photographs she showed them “had the most potential”. After they had left her however, still buried in between photographs and papers, there was nothing standing in between Harry and his first ever visit to a doctor. Well, healer. He didn´t count his stays in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey. Should he? Well, maybe –
“Mr. Potter, if you could finally move along”, Professor Snape stated drily, bringing the teen out of his revery. “We are late enough at it is.”
“Uhm, sure”, Harry mumbled, hurrying along behind his professor towards the clinic.
It was beautiful here, if a bit windy and cold. The “Niffler´s Cub Clinic” was indeed located right on the edge of a cliff, open fields surrounding it. A small herd of sheep were grazing a bit in the distance, though still in full view from the apparition point. Next to the entrance, a golden Niffler statue adorned the area, greedily stretching its unmoving paws towards the clinic´s name sign.
After they had stepped inside and were waiting in the reception area, a clipboard of some sort on Professor Snape´s lap, Harry was shifting from one foot to another nervously. Ten minutes later, Snape pressed the clipboard into the teen´s hand and stood up to talk to the receptionist. Looking down at the clipboard in his hand, Harry blinked, confusedly. Three quarters of the extensive list of questions was already filled out in his professor´s spiky hand. Looking closer, the Gryffindor´s eyes fixated on one particular section.
Pre-existing family conditions and curses up to and including the grandfather generation (please note which members of the family showed the conditions as well):
Lily Evans: Anaemia. Inherited from her mother Lobelia Evans nee Brown. Also shown by her sister, Petunia Evans.
Lionel Evans: Colourblindness. Died from brain cancer.
James Potter: Allergy to seaweed.
No further information known about James Potter and family. Please request the medical files from Madame Pomfrey at Hogwarts and the Archer´s Alchemy clinic.
Medical history of the patient:
No pre-existing vaccinations
Malnutrition, degree unknown
Sight impairment, degree unknown
Chronic headaches
Curse scar
Signs of insomnia
Regrown bones in one arm after a break and miscast healing spell
Harry looked up sharply. How on earth did Snape know so much about his medical history? Furthermore, how did he know about his maternal family´s, but not his paternal family´s medical history? Also, Aunt Petunia had Anaemia? He hadn´t known that. How had he not known that? Was that why she was taking pills every day?
“Mr. Potter. Are you finished filling out your patient information?”, a friendly looking mediwitch asked the baffled Gryffindor.
“Uh…”, Harry started unintelligently. “I think so?”
“Very well. If you and your guardian will follow me now”, the mediwitch stated kindly, turning around to lead the way towards one of the examination rooms.
Harry froze for a moment, throwing an uncertain glance towards Snape. Guardian? Was he? Wouldn´t they have told him…? Shaking his head, the Gryffindor hurried behind the Mediwitch and his maybe guardian, almost running to keep up with their long strides.
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“Well, Mr. Potter”, the healer started after the examination. “I would have liked to say you are in excellent health but frankly, you are not. However, we cannot do much until you have taken your vaccinations for your own safety. As such, we now have two options. Would you like to take them one after the other and feel mildly sick for most of the summer, or take them all at once and feel miserable for a week?”
“Uhm, none of the above?”, Harry said, slightly uncomfortable. “But uh… If I have to, I guess I´ll take the week?”
“Can I take a look at the examination results. I will be brewing any potions you see fit to prescribe after the vaccinations are done and monitor their correct dosage”, Snape interjected.
“Of course”, the healer told him. “I will be writing additional notes for your usage after we have finished and owl them to you later in the day.”
A soft knock sounded at the door and the mediwitch who had led them to the examination room bustled into the room, carrying a tray of vials. She set them down next to the healer, letting him doublecheck which ones she had brought, before carrying on to carefully measure out doses of the potions and fill them into small cups. The last one, however, was filled into a needle, not a cup, and set back onto the tray.
“Please take these potions”, the healer asked Harry, handing him the first of the cups.
The Gryffindor did so, his eyes still trained on the needle. He gagged at the terrible taste of the potions but somehow kept them all down. After one of them, his eyesight swam for a moment and his head spun terribly, forcing the Gryffindor to shift his focus back onto what he was doing or drop the cup onto the floor.
“Ugh…”, Harry said unintelligently after he had drained the last cup, grimacing at the aftertaste.
“Almost done, deary”, the mediwitch told him. “Just roll up your sleeve, so I can inject the dragon pox vaccine.”
“Yes, ma´am”, the teen said politely, shifting a bit in his seat as the nausea finally abated, then rolling up his sleeve obediently. “This good?”
“Yes, thank you, dear”, she said, taking the needle and stepping closer. “This will just sting for a bit and then we´re all through.”
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Coming back to Babble House brought the welcome sight of Hedwig sitting on the windowsill of his room. Harry quickly unlatched the window to let her in, cooing over her and burying his hands in her fluff. Hedwig, in return, leaned into her human to soak up all the love. She, too, brought a letter from Hermione in her claw, which she offered to Harry after he was finished weeping over her.
“Thanks, girl”, Harry said, his eyes still a bit moist. “You´re the best.”
Hedwig hooted regally in return, then fluttered over to the bed to settle down on it´s foot and fixed Harry with a meaningful stare. Harry discarded the letter with a laugh, throwing himself onto the bed, propping himself up on his elbows and facing his familiar.
“I´m so glad you´re back, Hedwig!”, the Gryffindor told his owl in a serious tone. “I have so much to tell you I don´t even know where to start.”
Another hoot from the owl prompted the teen to start talking, the owl turning her head so much it was almost upside down while listening to his babbling: “You see, this is where we´ll be staying this summer. It´s great, really, just feels weird, alright? It´s so quiet I already fell asleep in the middle of the day twice. And this room – I think Professor Sinistra cleaned it out all for me. Babbling´s nice, too, and I guess Snape´s alright so far…”
“Uh… where was I?”, Harry asked his owl, getting a hooted reply that didn´t help him at all to remember his last sentence. “Ah, yes. The food´s great here, even better than at Hogwarts, if you can believe that! They even gave me some special treats for you, there should be some in that bowl on my desk. There´s also much less chores, though I´d appreciate a bit more cleaning than I´m apparently supposed to do. Just once every week, Hedwig! Once! And that´s only one room! I´d have thought Snape would have me clean out cauldrons every day the whole summer if he was allowed to do so, but maybe he isn´t? Who knows.”
Hedwig answered his question with a half-turn of her head, then another tilt, before hooting slowly. She took a pitter-patter to the right, then then two to the left. Harry imagined she was telling him to “please hurry up, human” so she could finally fly over to the desk and get herself some of the owl treats he had told her about.
“Today we went to the healer, you know. There´s this clinic on the edge of a cliff that´s apparently really good and Snape took me there to get examined and stuff. They had this huge list of initial questions, even I hadn´t known the answers to half of them, Hedwig, but he just took it calmly and filled most of them out without looking up something once! It´s kind of creepy him knowing all this personal information about me just off the top of his head, don´t you think? Then the healer, he wasn’t impressed at all. There´s some things they need to repair, but they can´t do anything till my vaccinations are done, he said. So they gave me the choice between doing them separately or all at once. Said I´ll feel miserable for a week but really, I´m just slightly nauseous. Don´t know what all that fuss was about –”
He broke off as a wave of nausea hit him like a brick wall, making him heave and curl in on himself, as he emptied his stomach out on the floor. Hedwig fluttered up indignantly at the sudden motion, propelling herself into the air to settle down on the owl stand instead, her eyes continuously fixed on her human.
“Ugh, alright, I see what it was about”, the teen gasped out, his head spinning wildly every time he tried to move. “Maybe I´ll just try to sleep? Or Hedwig, could you get help, please?”
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