Potioneer potter

Ch 6

Harry used his evening meals as a time to recuperate from his 'anger management' and also in order to recharge in an attempt to make it slightly easier to endure his nightly detentions with Umbridge. As it was a Friday, tonight would be his last night of said detentions and, with the proper medical care and potions, he decided he might even be able to fully heal the grotesque 'I must not tell lies' cut that had been carved into the back of his hand through continuous lines with his professors cursed quill.

Unfortunately, Umbridge was also aware that this was his final detention and seemingly wanted to savour the time, causing the words to cut deeper than they ever had before. At long last Harry found himself stood in front of her, hand outstretched for her to inspect, and praying beyond all hope that his legs wouldn't buckle beneath him until he was at least out of her office.

"Yes, I think that should do." Umbridge state thoughtfully, as if she were telling a baker which pastry she fancied. "I do hope the message has sunk in, my dear, I would hate for you to have to return." She pouted with mock sympathy. "Now off you go, off to bed."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed his satchel, mumbled a quick "good night professor" and beelined for the Gryffindor tower. It wasn't until he collapsed on the first sofa he saw in the common room and saw how his vision was dark around the edges that he realised just how much blood he must have lost. For some reason, both Ron and Hermione were sat on the sofa beside him (shouldn't they be asleep?) and Hermione was pressing a vial of some kind into his hand.

"Whassat?" He murmured, wishing that she'd just let him sleep.

"It's a blood replenishing potion Harry, drink it or I'll drag you down to the hospital wing."

Harry gave her a slightly irritated look at the threat, she knew that he didn't want McGonagall or Dumbledore to know about this and telling Madame Pomfrey would surely mean they would be told. Mildly confused as to how she had procured the potion, he knocked it back in one gulp, grimaced, but immediately felt his senses return.

"Mione, why the fuck do you have random potions in your bag?" He eyed her school bag with a new cautiousness, wondering what else she might have hidden in there, after all, anything was possible given the time turner. "You didn't steal it from Snape, did you?"

"Professor Snape, Harry, and no I did not steal anything from him. I just thought it common sense to have a slightly modified muggle first aid kit, and I happened to add some potions as part of it."

"Well, I guess that makes sense." He said just as Ron asked, "What's a first aid kit?"

Pretending not to have heard Ron, Hermione began badgering Harry again.

"Look, I know you've said you don't want to go to Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall about this, but you have to. This is really dangerous, and they can help you"

"Yeh mate, blood quills are literally illegal too." Ron added.

Harry really was too tired for this, he just wanted to go to sleep, despite the nightmares that awaited him. "Guys, I appreciate the concern, I really do, but Dumbledore wants nothing to do with me right now, he wouldn't even look at me at my trial. Plus, today was the last detention so can I just go to bed please?"

Much to Harry's surprise, this worked as they both left him to trudge up the stairs, fall into bed next to a peacefully snoozing Alex, barely having the energy to take his shoes off, and promptly fall asleep.

Despite it being the first Saturday morning of the school year, Harry's nightmares were just as bad as usual, and between the silent corridor and not so silent screams, they awoke him in the normal early hours of the morning. As he reluctantly brushed his teeth, washed his face, and got dressed, Harry grumbled to his brain about being more considerate to people just trying to have a nice lie-in on a cold autumn morning and not waking them up at 6 in the bloody morning for no reason at all. His brain did not respond. As he still had an hour until the great hall would be opened for breakfast, Harry decided to write a letter to Sirius about his first week, after all, Hermione had told him to talk to someone, plus he could ask for some advice on how best to heal his hand. Sitting down at a writing desk in the common room, Harry sat for a while, wondering how best to word his letter. He had been warned by almost every member of the order of the phoenix on separate occasions not to contain too many details, in case his letter was intercepted.