Chapter 3: Getting sorted out

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11-03-2021 Author's note: I've uploaded a podfic for this chapter, find it on Spotify here: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1qOogSy9KSTG73UQJfe91o
or on Anchor here: https://anchor.fm/dashboard/episode/e19nbkg

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Harry stood for a moment on the spot, not really sure where he was in the room. He felt a bit nauseated from the unexpected jump through space in the corridor outside Professor McGonagall's office to the hospital wing. He let the familiar odors of the hospital wing wash over him and listened. Madam Pomfrey must have given Ginny a pepper-up potion—the smell permeated. He could hear people talking quietly at the end of the wing, near Madam Pomfrey's office.

He squinted trying to make out the shadows, but couldn't see anything except a low, hazy light that must be the fireplace—he could smell it, too, and hear it pop occasionally. It was indistinct—the essence of light without any shape or form.

He thought about how the wing was laid out with rows of beds and a long corridor down the center and reached out trying to find the nearest bed. His hand passed through empty air, so he took a few steps. His foot without the sock felt funny—his trainers were slippery with who knows what... mucky snake pond water, Basilisk blood, his own sweat.

He took another pass with his hand and softly hit a metal bar with his fingers. He grasped it. It was the cool metal tube that made the foot of a bed. He ran his hand over it, feeling the hooks where a chart would hang if someone were in the bed being treated.

His stomach gurgled as he walked in the open space between the beds; he was feeling a little lightheaded; he was so hungry. He reached, guessing where the next bed would be and found it.

At the next bed, his foot collided with the metal foot of the bed and made a ringing sound. The murmured conversations at the end of the wing stopped suddenly. Harry imagined people looking at him and flushed.

"Harry!" Ron's voice rang out and his feet slapped on the stone floor as he grew nearer.

"Hermione's about to get the potion!" Ron exclaimed, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him away from the row of beds that he was making his way along.

Harry stumbled after Ron, trying to get his footing.

"Oi! Ron! Wait!" Harry said. "Let me hold onto you. I don't like being pulled."

He put his hand on Ron's shoulder as he had with Ginny earlier, and walked a little behind Ron. Ron seemed to tense and his gait was unnatural as if he wasn't sure what to do. Harry blushed, imagining how silly they must look walking down the corridor like this. Everyone was still pretty hushed and he felt as though all eyes were on him.

Swishing skirts or robes (Harry wasn't sure which) and footsteps approached along with a familiar scent that put Harry in mind of a warm and bustling kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley started wailing as she pulled Harry into another fierce embrace, "Oh, Harry! Ginny told me that something happened to your eyes down in the Chamber! Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey. I don't know why Professor Dumbledore kept you so long. And why are you here on your own? Surely he didn't leave you to find your way here by yourself... not able to see... and who knows what wandering the corridors at this time of night!" Molly effused as she pulled him alongside her, arm around his shoulders.

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley. Dobby brought me here," he said.

Harry could hear someone moving around clinking glass jars and imagined that Madam Pomfrey was mixing potions at her potions station nearby. He wondered why he couldn't see people's distinct shapes anymore, like the dark shadowy form of Riddle that he had seen in the dungeons. He wondered if his vision was getting worse. He was finding it hard to breathe.

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