In Which Madam Pomfrey and Betty Braithwaite Tell All
“I’m here to speak with Betty Braithwaite, please,” Poppy Pomfrey said to the receptionist at the Oracle, the new paper that had taken over for the now-defunct Prophet. Their first order of business was to fire all of the gossip mongering reporters, and Rita was the first to be booted out on her arse. Betty was promoted to lead reporter, with Rolf Scamander as the editor in chief. Pomfrey had been visited by Tom Riddle a few days before the interview, and he had worked tirelessly to release the mediwitch from the loyalty oath that Dumbledore had forced upon her. Now she was free to utilize the information she had gathered over the years to devastating effect. Lucius had suggested Miss Braithwaite for the dissemination of the information, as the woman had a strong moral compass and wouldn’t skew the facts into a more prurient article, as her compatriot Rita Skeeter was wont to do.
“She’s in office number twelve. If you’ll give me your name, I’ll let her know you’re here.”
“My name is Poppy Pomfrey, and I’m the mediwitch assigned to Hogwarts.”
“If you’ll have a seat, she’ll be with you shortly,” the receptionist told the older woman, indicating a plush leather chair across the hall. The brisk woman sat ramrod straight and stared at the receptionist with gimlet eyes as she waited for the reporter. It didn’t take long for the mediwitch’s stare to finally break the young woman, and she quickly rushed away to the reporter’s office, to perhaps nudge the woman along a little quicker. Finally, the young lady returned with Betty tailing her, a curious quirk to her left eyebrow as she eyed the older woman.
“I’m Betty Braithwaite,” she said, holding out her hand to shake with Pomfrey. After a brisk, no-nonsense handshake, the pair retired to the reporter’s office, to the great relief of the receptionist. The young woman blew a strand of hair out of her face and slumped down in her chair, laying her head on her desk as she valiantly tried to regain her shattered composure.
Once in the office, with Pomfrey sitting before the journalist’s desk and tea served, Betty got right down to brass tacks. “How may I help you, Madam Pomfrey?”
“I am here to give you the story of the year,” was not the reply the reporter was expecting. She gaped unbecomingly at the older woman sitting across the desk from her, staring for an uncomfortably long time before she finally recalled her brain from Mars and began to fire out questions.
“What is the subject of the story?” she asked softly, not wanting her overly eager, brusque attitude to scare the other woman away.
“I have five years of documents covering physical examinations of Harry Potter that I would like printed, along with an article of explanation,” Poppy replied with a frown. “I had been under a very strict loyalty oath to headmaster Albus Dumbledore, so I couldn’t reveal these issues before now. I was able to have someone break the enchantments, thus freeing me to bring these disturbing matters to light.”
“To what do the documents pertain?” Betty asked breathlessly. Anything about the Savior would bring loads of galleons, as well as recognition to the woman and she was fairly salivating at the opportunity presented to her.
“As you are aware, Harry Potter was hidden away from the wizarding world for the first ten years of his life. What you don’t know is that he was given to his mother’s muggle relatives; her squib sister and muggle brother-in-law. From the moment that boy was abandoned on their doorstep, he was made to perform every household chore they could give him. He was frequently starved and beaten, and was isolated from others for much of his life. His bedroom, before Hogwarts, was a boot cupboard underneath the muggles’ front stairs, where he was locked away for hours at a time.
“When he came to school, he looked like he hadn’t had a decent meal his entire life. He was gaunt and thin, and very anemic. The only thing that kept him alive was his magic, and it could only do so much to repair the damage done by years of neglect. I examined him every year he came to Hogwarts, and I made sure that he had rounds of potions for his bones, his muscles and his health. His eyesight was a lost cause; his relatives gave him an old pair of his uncle’s spectacles, and the incorrect lens prescription had ruined his vision.
“I wasn’t allowed to contact anyone outside Hogwarts for help with the dangerous malnutrition and neglect Harry had suffered for so long, and it was a minor miracle that the potions prepared for me by Potions Master Severus Snape had mitigated much of the damage done to his body. His mind, however, was a different matter. He had been called freak from the moment he got there. He never knew his name until he went to primary school at five years old. They told him that his parents had died in a drunk driving accident, and that he was unwanted and unloved. They never took him to doctors; the uncle told him that ‘it would be a waste of money on a freak like him’.
“This is the hell to which Albus Dumbledore had consigned a fifteen month old baby. He dropped him on the front stoop of the house, in the middle of the night on November third of 1981 with no protections and no guarantee that the muggles would even take him in. This is how our venerable elder statesman treats an orphaned wizarding child. Merlin only knows how many other children he’s treated this way.”
“How do you know what his home life was like?” Betty asked breathlessly, a small catch in her voice. She was near tears from the information, and was ready to flay Dumbledore alive for treating one of their own like that, let alone their Savior.
“Minerva McGonagall was with Dumbledore when he left Harry in the muggle world. She had prowled around in her animagus cat form, watching closely as the muggles abused that poor child. She told me some of it, and I had some conversations with Harry himself about his upbringing. He was willing to share some of what he’d been subjected to, but I’m positive that what I’ve given you just barely scratches the surface.”
“Why do you wish to have this information published? Are you sure that Mr. Potter is amenable to having a great many of his secrets revealed?”
“Harry wants that old man taken off of the pedestal on which we’ve all placed him,” Pomfrey snapped angrily. “Dumbledore has been manipulating that boy’s life from the beginning, and it’s time everyone knows just what kind of monster he really is.”
October 12,1996
The Oracle
DUMBLEDORE EXPOSED!
Anonymous sources reveal all
Betty Braithwaite, reporter
In all the years that this reporter has covered the news, I have never been granted access to such blatant disregard for a wizarding child. An orphan, left bereft of family, taken to muggles wholly unsuitable to raise him, to be abused and neglected. Starved of both attention and food until he was but skin and bones when he finally attended Hogwarts. He was abandoned on his mother’s sister’s doorstep in the middle of a cold November night. Left to his own devices, with no protection whatsoever, and the great Albus Dumbledore didn’t even consider whether the muggles would want him or not.
I am talking about our Savior, Harry Potter, gentle readers. He was taken from the remains of his family home, nearly a day after both of his parents were murdered, and taken to number 4, Privet Drive in Surrey, a muggle town in Great Britain. There, he was to remain until the summer after fifth year, when he was spirited away by some benevolent benefactor and given protection, comfort, and affection; things that he’d been lacking for much of his young life.
In this tiny home, he was relegated to the boot cupboard underneath the front stairs, where he would spend the majority of his time, unless he was doing the chores around the house. He was treated worse than a house elf, and was rarely fed for his efforts. He was physically, emotionally and psychologically abused from the age of fifteen months, when he was made to feel like he was less than human by the thugs with whom he was abandoned.
I, for one, dear readers, place the blame for our Chosen One’s abysmal treatment at the feet of Albus Dumbledore. He was the one to decide to abandon a wizarding child in the muggle world. He was the one to refuse to alert the Ministry to Harry’s location for the longest time. He was the one to choose not to tell any of James and Lily Potter’s friends where their child lived, so that he could get at least some sense of who his parents were. He was the one who chose to deny a wizarding child the opportunity to learn of his legacy; his wizarding history; his birthright.
In the following pages you will find the health reports outlining the extent of the abuse and neglect. The names on the reports have been redacted to protect the identity of the persons who had graciously provided the information within. This article is not only to alert you to the crimes that had been perpetrated against the last known Potter heir, but to ask you to take a good, hard look at Albus Dumbledore. Is he really someone to whom we should look for salvation? Does he really have our best interests at heart? Are the laws being pushed through the Ministry, authored by himself and his sycophants, really what the wizarding world needs to prosper? All important questions, and all needing answers.
“Have you seen this article, Harry?” Draco squealed as he burst through his dorm room door. In sixth and seventh year, the Slytherins only had to share space with one other person. Draco instantly chose Blaise, who wouldn't object to Harry being in the Slytherin dorms; being best friends with the raven made it easier for them to hang out together, and they were never without the other. The blond was waving the latest edition of the Oracle above his head and crowing gleefully.
“Not really,” Harry replied with a moue of disgust. “You know I can’t stand that scandal rag. Nothing good ever comes out of its pages. I'm glad that the Prophet was disbanded, but I'm not interested in the dreck that had replaced it.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Blaise said as he sauntered through the open door. Their room was the general meeting place for all of Harry’s and Draco’s Slytherin friends, and the door was always open. He dropped onto the blond’s bed and snatched the paper out of Malfoy’s hands, eliciting a cry of outrage from the pale teen. Without a word, Blaise handed it over to Harry, who sat on the dark-skinned Italian's bed to peruse the article. By the end of it, a wide malicious smile creased his face. He looked at his friends, emerald eyes sparkling happily.
“Wow,” he whispered softly. “I didn’t think anyone at the Oracle would have the balls to go after Albus Dumbledore. This is just priceless. I can’t wait to witness the fallout.”