19 Years (HP - Drarry)

Chapter 15: Have A Biscuit, Potter

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Harry blinked blearily, frowning as he squinted at the vaguely human blur that bustled around his bedside. He was in the hospital wing - he recognized the smell. He'd spent a lot of time in here, during his school years. The blur tutted and pressed a phial into his hand.

"Bottoms up, Mr. Potter"

Harry scowled at the phial suspiciously, but after several long minutes spent scrutinizing the sludge-like liquid inside, he was forced to admit that he still knew next-to-nothing about potions. He shrugged, deciding the philosophical approach was best, and tipped the sludge into his mouth.

The blur made a pleased sound and exchanged Harry's glasses for the now-empty phial.

Harry jammed the glasses onto his nose, ignoring the way they hung slightly crookedly, and felt a small smile tug at his lips as the familiar form of Madam Pomfrey swam into view. "Hullo, Poppy," he said cheerfully. "Any idea what I'm doing here?"

Madam Pomfrey snorted and rested her hands on her hips. "You're resting, Mr. Potter, after a nasty bout of self-imposed flashbacks."

"Self-imposed!" Harry prepared to defend his honor (he hand't wanted to fight in the war, thankyouverymuch) but Pomfrey held up a hand to stop him.

"What I mean," she said wearily, "is that you have spent far too long eating and sleeping far too little. And the sleep you have been getting..." She broke off, shaking her head.

"Do you know what triggered it?" Harry asked. He thought back to the day before, that awful meeting with Neville, going to confront James... "Argh!" Harry clutched his head, squinting against the sharp flare of pain.

Madam Pomfrey was at his side in an instant, clucking and offering a potion that dulled the pain, and pressing him back into his bed. "Don't do that!" she scolded. "I've put up temporary psychic walls to block off the memories - and pain - for now, but you're going to have to deal with all those repressed emotions one of these days."

Harry shrugged, sitting up again. That was something he'd happily put off for later. "So, when can I leave?"

"Harry James Potter! You will stay here in this bed for the next few days at the very least so I can wean you off of that Dreamless Sleep safely."

Harry scowled at her, but she scowled right back. "You know how dangerous it is, I know you do! Why didn't you come to me in the first place?"

Harry sighed. He wasn't sure, really, except that he didn't think he'd been thinking straight lately. Everything seemed a bit fuzzy around the edges. Scratch that - everything seemed a lot fuzzy around the edges. He swayed slightly, as everything seemed to tilt sideways.

Pomfrey sighed. "That will be the pain potion kicking in. Now, do us both a favor and lie back in that bed. Or I'll be forced to make you."

Harry sighed again, but lay back against the pillows without further protest. He was tired, and he could feel the potion spreading its soothing warmth through his veins, and it sounded like far too much effort to try and sneak out. He'd take a nap first, and wait for Pomfrey to be distracted.

Harry had only just felt the gentle tug of sleep on the edges of his senses when the door to the hospital wing slammed open and Professor McGonagall strode inside.

"Mister Potter," she said briskly, "how are you feeling?"

Madam Pomfrey bustled over then, scowling as she wiped her hands on her scrupulously clean apron. "Now, Minerva, I've only just given Mister Potter his potions, and he really needs rest right now - "