Paid In Blood - Revised

Chapter 4

Harry Potter dropped the golden egg onto the bed and sat down beside it, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to give him her attention. Physically he felt fine, but for some reason his magic felt slightly...off. He wasn't sure what the problem was, but knew it was likely a side effect of the ritual that brought him here.

As his thoughts drifted to the ritual, he had to admit that he was mostly pleased with the result - even if it hadn't entirely gone according to plan. While it did successfully send his soul back in time, he intended to arrive in July of 1991, the day his first Hogwarts letter had arrived (not that his relatives had allowed him to open it).

He had spent years painstakingly studying and improving runes in order to design the ritual, but he must have made a small miscalculation somewhere. The unknown error bothered him, but he wouldn't dwell on it. After all, he had sent himself nearly eighty years into the past, back to a day which, in hindsight, had been the beginning of many of his problems. His arrival here still gave him plenty of time to prevent the terrible events of his past and save the ones he loved. He sighed as he once again pictured their faces in his mind, but he would have to reminisce later, as Madam Pomfrey had entered the tent and was tentatively approaching him.

"Good afternoon, Madam Pomfrey," Harry saluted politely, but with no hint of emotion in his voice. "I feel like there's something wrong with my magical core, can you please check it for me?"

Looking somewhat wary of the young wizard, she nodded and waved her wand in a series of movements, trying to avoid looking him in the eye. She breathed a sigh of relief when Professor Dumbledore entered the tent, followed by Professor McGonagall and the rest of the judges.

Dumbledore's expression carried a mix of curiosity and unease, and he obviously wanted question Harry, but an eager Ludo Bagman jumped ahead of him to enthusiastically congratulate Harry on his performance.

"An outstanding flight, Mr. Potter, truly amazing! I have never seen such a thing in my life, and I..."

"Harry, I would like to know how it was you were able to perform such magic?" Dumbledore interrupted, with no trace of his usual grandfatherly demeanour.

"I also must admit that I am quite disappointed that you chose to kill the dragon."

Harry turned his gaze to the headmaster, and Dumbledore could see flames dancing in emerald eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived. If looks could kill, Dumbledore would have fallen dead on the spot.

"I did what I had to do," Harry retorted. "I can't help but find your concern for the dragon amusing, considering you seemed to have no problem with me being forced to go up against it."

Harry was trying to keep his temper in check, but the audacity of Dumbledore to try and lecture him like that after everything he'd been through was too much. The angry teen radiated enough magic to produce a visible aura for a few moments, before he finally took a deep breath and regained his control. Madam Pomfrey was so astonished with what she was seeing that she didn't notice that the diagnostic spell had finished, and that the parchment was faintly glowing.

"I killed it by accident," Harry stated, his composure restored. "I did use an Exploding Charm, but I'm pretty sure a Bombarda wouldn't kill a dragon that size, even if it hit the beast in the head. The dragon is only dead because it opened its jaws and swallowed the spell."

Harry glanced around at each of the adults in turn before turning back to Madam Pomfrey. "What does it say?" he asked her, pointing to the scroll.

It took a few moments for Madam Pomfrey to realise what he was talking about, and she almost blushed when she noticed the scroll was glowing. She read through the results of her scan and gasped.