Chapter Eight – Please Wake Up

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Eight – Please Wake Up

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Madam Bones had left the hospital late the previous night after ensuring Harry was out of the woods regarding his health. He was moved with an auror guard to a critical injury and close monitoring private room after the Healers in Casualty were assured his health was stabilised.

Before she departed, though, the Lead Healer gave her a couple of sheets of parchment with a list of the injuries their scans had detected during their examination of their most famous of young patients. His face bore quite the thunderous expression as he handed over the sheets. The parchment also confirmed that the boy had, indeed, been suffering from a partial possession that was now, thankfully, gone.

The healer said, "We'll be keeping him here for a while, in one of our private treatment rooms. We're going to be practically force-feeding him a pretty substantial potion regime for the next week, at least."

"Thank you," replied Amelia. "I'll also be placing a twenty-four hour guard on him for while he's here."

"You just make sure that whoever did all this..." the Healer growled while indicating the parchment, "... is brought up on charges. I'll also stand as witness for the criminal's trial."

"Noted," sighed Madam Bones. "You take care of him, and I'll take care of the culprit."

It was now the morning after the events of the Sorting Feast and Madam Bones had only stopped for a few short hours in her investigations. She'd only managed to get about three hours sleep on the hideaway cot in her office, in all that time.

She had reviewed the memories collected by herself and her aurors from staff and students at the school, and they tallied with what she'd heard from Madam Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick.

Now, she was going through Ministry records searching for information on just where and with whom the boy had been living. Harry hadn't been too clear with addresses, and the like, when she'd last talked to him. She was also trying to discover just why the boy was specifically accusing Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Rubeus Hagrid with crimes against him.

From the Ministry records she'd learned that just about all of them had been sealed by Albus Dumbledore, himself. And that Albus Dumbledore had appointed himself as the boy's magical guardian. What did not make sense was that a magical guardian was only required when the minor was a muggleborn; which Harry most certainly was not.

She was going to have to talk to Dumbledore, McGonagall and Hagrid as it appeared the boy knew they had something to do with his disappearance and subsequent abuse. Knowing the old man's penchant for disregarding the law when it ill-suited his purposes, she knew she faced an uphill battle to get any information out him.

No, first she'd need to increase the guard on the boy while he was in the hospital. Then she'd go speak to McGonagall and Hagrid before confronting Dumbledore. If necessary, she'd make sure she had all her facts before taking Dumbledore to court and forcing him to disclose what had happened to the boy. After all, he'd claimed magical guardianship of him; and that made him complicit in the boy being abused.

Rising from behind her desk she walked to her door, flung it open, and called out, "Scrimgeour! Shacklebolt! In here!" Before walking back to sit at her desk.

When the two senior aurors entered she gave them instructions to prepare a rotating roster of minimum two person teams to stand guard twenty-four seven on the boy until further notice.

"And," she growled. "If Albus Bloody Dumbledore, or any other member of Hogwarts staff excluding Poppy Pomfrey, attempts to get anywhere near him - I want them flat out refused entry. If they persist - immediately arrest them and call me. And they had better be in bloody magic suppression cuffs when I get there. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" they both replied.

"Good," she said emphatically. "Now, scram!"

They scrammed.

Once they'd left her office she summoned the Heads of the Department of Magical Children Services, the Improper Use of Magic Office and the Obliviation Squad. She wanted to know where the records for one Harry James Potter were being stored. And the second and third offices would have the records regarding any accidental magic the boy had cast before he entered Hogwarts.

As she was investigating a sudden death, namely one Quirinus Quirrell, she had the authority to open the sealed files regarding Harry Potter; who appeared to be at least somewhat responsible for the man's death.

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On returning to the private ward at Saint Mungo's, where Harry was currently undergoing treatment, Madam Bones was waylaid from entering by a rather harried-looking Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Ma'am, I need to ask you to assign a couple more aurors here," he begged.

"And why is that, Kingsley?" she asked.

"I've already had to turn away Albus Dumbledore twice from demanding entry. Plus, Lord Greengrass was also here a few minutes ago demanding entry, Madam Longbottom came by a little earlier than that, as well as a few journalists and photographers," he replied.

"Dumbledore, I understand," mused Madam Bones. "And, yes, my ruling on him being banned from entering the room stands; just as it does with the rest of the Hogwarts staff excluding Madam Pomfrey. However, you are unaware that Mister Potter is betrothed to Lord Greengrass's oldest, Daphne. As such, you may grant him access. And House Potter and Longbottom are allied Houses, so Madam Longbottom is also to be allowed access.

"I'll add a second auror as back up for you out here. As per standards, inform whomever it is that joins you here that no one is to speak to the press about this, am I clear?"

Giving a respectful nod, Shacklebolt said, "Yes, Ma'am; thank you, Ma'am."

With a nod of her own, Madam Bones entered the room. Harry Potter was still unconscious but a healer was also in attendance using a charm to make the boy drink a potion.

"How is he?" asked Madam Bones.

"Healing," replied the healer. "We've put him into a dreamless sleep while we give him potions to repair the damage his body's been subjected to. Otherwise, he might've suffered a bit from the pain."

"And for how long do you expect to keep him asleep?" she asked.

"Hopefully, we'll have him awake before dinner tonight," replied the healer. "By then, the pain from the healing potions should prove no more than an annoyance. And, his magic will take care of any lingering symptoms."

Giving a grunt of acknowledgement, Madam Bones said, "As per my last, I'm to be contacted the minute he's awake. I'll be in my office at the Ministry."

The healer gave a nod in reply and said, "Yes, Madam Bones." And continued with her work as the lady in question walked back out the door.

'C'mon, Harry,' she thought. 'I need to talk to you.'

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On the morning after 'The Incident', as it was being spoken of, the last class had just finished for the day when Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape, saw a man he recognised as the father of one of his newest snakes walk in the door of his classroom.

"Lord Greengrass," drolled Snape. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"I've come to collect my eldest daughter, Potions Master; Daphne. I believe she's one of yours," said Cygnus.

"Indeed," replied Snape. "I take it this is a family matter?"

"Indeed," replied Cygnus, not clarifying the point.

"And when may we find her returning?"

"Probably, this evening; possibly, tomorrow morning before class."

Snape merely nodded and said, "I would hazard a guess she'll be in the Slytherin common room about now. I take it you remember your way?"

With a nod of his own, Cygnus replied, "Of course."

With almost a dismissive gesture, Snape said, "The password is 'cunning and guile'. I'll inform the other staff at dinner Miss Greengrass will be away on family matters until tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Thank you, Potions Master, for your consideration," said Cygnus with barely a head nod of recognition, before he turned on his heel and left the classroom, heading for the Slytherin common room.

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Daphne was almost frantic with worry about what happened to 'her Harry' the evening before at the sorting. She wanted to rush over and help him when he collapsed but Tracey held her back. By the time she was able to dislodge herself from her friend's grip, the Older Years were already herding all the children away from the Hufflepuff table.

She watched - almost in horror - as Madam Pomfrey, the school Healer, worked rapidly on the inert form of her betrothed. She could feel her ring give off the occasional vibration and pulse of light, but she knew they weren't malicious attacks.

When Madam Pomfrey and one of the healers from Saint Mungo's levitated Harry's - body - off the table onto a waiting stretcher, and then hurry him out of the room, she wanted nothing more than to rush after them. However, she knew the aurors that had arrived would have blocked her from doing so.

Instead, she stayed with the other First Year Slytherins and allowed herself to be comforted by her friend.

As soon as she was able to, though, she raced to the owlery to write and send a note to her father. She found Hedwig there, looking quite distressed. When Daphne stepped into the roost Hedwig immediately flew down to land on her shoulder; she softly hooted in the girl's ear.

While she was writing a note to her father she talked to the bird. "I know you understand, girl. Something bad happened to Harry during the sorting. He's been rushed off to Saint Mungo's, I think. I need to get a message to my Dad right away about what happened. I know I can give it to one of the other owls to carry; but, I only trust you to carry something so important for me and Harry."

Hedwig gave a bit of a scoffing huff and nibbled gently on Daphne's ear as the girl wrote her note.

As soon as Daphne finished writing the letter, Hedwig flew to a lower level roost within arms reach of the girl. And Daphne quickly attached the note to the owl's leg.

Once both owl and girl were happy the note was firmly affixed, Hedwig took immediate flight out on of the many windows.

Daphne sighed as she watched the snowy, softly glowing outline of the owl disappear into the night. "Be safe, girl," she whispered. "And hurry."

As soon as classes finished for the day, she rushed back to the Slytherin dorms. She'd no sooner unloaded her books onto her bed when one of the girls in an older year poked her head in and said, "Your father awaits you in the common room, Miss Greengrass."

Daphne practically flew out of the room. And, half an hour later she was walking beside her father through the corridors of Saint Mungo's heading for what she hoped was the healthy form of her 'man'.

After being brought up short by a pair of aurors standing outside the door of a private ward to identify themselves, both Daphne and her father were allowed through. But, they'd had to get past quite a few people she recognised as probably being journalists to get there. A couple had tried to question them before they stepped through, but she ignored them all.

Inside, they were greeted by the sight of Harry lying, appearing still unconscious, on a standard ward hospital bed. Daphne was introduced by her father to both Madam Bones and Madam Longbottom, who had been standing off to the side, quietly conversing before they walked in.

As soon as the introductions were done with, though, Daphne quickly moved to the side of the bed. She took Harry's hand in one of her own and placed her other one on his shoulder.

"Oh, Harry," she cried to the sleeping form on the bed. "What have you done to yourself?"

She felt the hand she was holding twitch a little, before her grasp of it was returned. Harry's eyes fluttered a little before she heard him ask in a soft voice, "D... Daphne?"

Moving her other hand to brush her fingers through his hair, she felt her heart give a leap of joy. "Yes, Harry!" she cried. "I'm here!"

She didn't notice the adults, having heard Harry respond, move closer around the bed.

Nor did she notice Madam Bones move away again and stick her head outside the door for a moment before returning.

"What did you do to yourself?" the girl cried. "You gave me such a fright."

"I'm sorry," he croaked out. "I - lost my temper. I - let it get away from me. I couldn't stop it."

"Harry, its Aunt Amelia," piped in Madam Bones. "You're in Saint Mungo's and you're quite safe. Just rest for a bit. I've called for one of your Healers to come and check up on you."

"Al... alright," whispered Harry.

Madam Bones moved away and indicated for the other two adults to join her.

"What in Merlin's name happened last night, Amelia?" Cygnus pretty much growled. "I know you've already investigated it by now."

"If you come by my office later, I'll let you watch the pensieve memories I have of the event," she replied. "For now, though, the crib notes.

"The first years, including your daughter and Harry, came in to the Great Hall, as per normal. The sorting began and students started to be sorted. The expression on Harry's face quickly turned to one of complete anger. It seems to have come when he first spied the Head Table.

"When Harry's name was called out he came forward to be sorted. However, as soon as he reached the stool, he stopped, looked at Professor McGonagall with a look of fury, and said, 'No'.

"Then he's turned around and headed back out of the Hall; stormed out, really.

"Before he's made it all the way past the tables, he's jumped up onto the Hufflepuff table - stripping himself to the waist as he did so - and proceeded to rant at the Professors; especially Dumbledore. He displayed all these scars and marks on his torso and how they were caused by Dumbledore dumping him on a muggle doorstep somewhere.

"During that rant he began to flare his magic. He suddenly screams at the ceiling. There's an almighty pulse of flared magic, which causes objects and students to be banished from around him, and he collapses.

At that point one of the Professors, Professor Quirrell, is clutching at his own head and screaming."

Hesitating for a moment, she continues, a little horrified by what she says, "That's when what appears to be a partial possession is expelled from behind that scar on his forehead. By then, Harry's unconscious on the table and there's pandemonium amongst the students.

"That partial possession spirit hovers over him for a few moments before it flies at Professor Quirrell. It slams into the Professor's head before, yet another partial possession is ejected from Quirrell. The two spirits merge into one and flee out one of the Hall's windows.

"Harry, meanwhile, remains lying unconscious on the table with blood and muck covering his face from the now open wound that was his scar.

"Madam Pomfrey headed straight to him, ignoring everyone else, and franticly began treatment.

"From what I've gathered so far, Harry had a very tight infant magical lock on his magic. It - shattered - allowing his magic to fly free. That caused it to pulse in a huge flare; which, in turn, caused the possession to be expelled from his body.

"His magic almost - detonated - but the flaring caused his magical reserves to drain to almost critically low levels before it did.

"Madam Pomfrey and the emergency Healers brought him here as soon as they deemed him stable to travel. Since he's been here they've managed to draw up a list of the damage to his body. The poor boy was suffering from long-term malnutrition, had multiple poorly set bones from breaks, plus a host of other problems. They've already replaced the worst set bones and have him on a strong potion regime to combat the effects of the malnutrition.

"Some of the scars on his body are too bad to deal with without excising the lesions completely and replacing them with new skin growth. The others they can treat with a salve and the scars should fade with time.

"I have no idea how his treatment at the hands of his relatives has remained undiscovered this long but, one thing I know for sure, Albus Dumbledore has just lost any claim to being his magical guardian."

"He's not," said Cygnus, interrupting.

"Sorry?" asked Amelia.

"Albus Dumbledore is not legally Harry's magical guardian," replied Cygnus.

"Dumbledore claims he is," said Amelia.

"I know what he claims, Amelia," said Cygnus more firmly. "But, he's not. According to the Potter's Will, Augusta should be his guardian as Frank and Alice should have been caring for him at the time they were attacked. And, if not Augusta, then Sirius Black, then me, and then you.

"Harry, received a letter from his father through Gringotts when he first went into the bank just before his eleventh birthday. The letter informed him of who his guardians were supposed to be, and also instructed him to take up the Headship of House Potter on his eleventh birthday. That, he did.

"The first thing he also did was unseal the Will, which had been sealed on Dumbledore's orders, and have it read. In the Will it also stipulates who his guardians are supposed to be. Harry has the original letter, and a copy of the Will, in his Hogwarts trunk."

With an expression of cold fury, he continued, "Albus Dumbledore had no right to claim guardianship of the boy. However, since he has, I want the old bastard charged with child neglect, neglect of his duties as a magical guardian, child abandonment, and conspiracy to commit child abuse. Add whatever else you want to throw at him. And, I don't want to hear any of this 'For the Greater Good' nonsense.

"I also want him immediately stripped of any claim to be his guardian, magical or otherwise, until such time as my complaint is fully investigated and dealt with.

"Furthermore, I want his relatives, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, investigated and charged with child neglect, child abuse, assault on a minor, and assault upon the Heir of an Ancient House!"

With a look of righteous anger on her own face, Madam Bones coldly replied, "Consider it done."

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By late afternoon, Harry was starting to come around. A Healer had already come in and was checking him over with her wand.

Harry was staring back into the reddened eyes of his betrothed while the Healer was working, with a feeling of peace and love. 'Wait a minute,' he thought. 'Where are my glasses?'

With a slight frown of confusion he reached up with his free hand to check his face. He couldn't feel his glasses. Holding his hand in front of his eyes and looking at his fingers he could see them clearly and in sharp detail.

Seeing the look of confusion on his face, Daphne asked, "What's wrong?"

"I can see," he softly replied.

"Of course you can see," said Daphne, now also confused. "Why wouldn't you be able to?"

"No," replied Harry. "I mean, I can see without my glasses. My vision's fine."

"That would be because the pressure has been taken off your optic nerves, Mister Potter," said the Healer. "With the pressure removed your magic's been able to heal and correct your eyesight."

"So, no more glasses?" asked Harry.

"No more glasses," replied the Healer with a smile.

"Oh, thanks," said Harry. "I think I'll look a bit funny without glasses, though."

"I think I prefer you without them, actually," said a smiling Daphne. "I can see your eyes better, this way."

Feeling around his face some more Harry also noticed he couldn't find the ridging of scar.

"My scar's gone, too?" he asked.

The Healer nodded and said, "Once we cleaned everything up there, and cleaned out all the gunk, we were able to excise the dead tissue, seal the wound and vanish the scar. No more scar."

"Oh. Thank you," said Harry. "I never liked that thing. It was too much of a reminder of - you know."

"No more scar means no one's going to be staring at it any more, Harry," said Daphne. "Besides, it was a blemish on your good looks. You're actually quite handsome, you know."

"Well, I would have to be to have any chance of not being thought of as your ugly betrothed now, wouldn't I?" he asked.

Daphne blushed and gave him a light smack on his shoulder. "Prat!" she exclaimed.

Thinking some more about how he felt, Harry said, "I don't feel much pain anywhere, actually. Just a little - uncomfortable inside. Even my headache's gone. I actually feel pretty good. More - alive."

"Healing potions," said the Healer. "Most of the injuries you were suffering from, old and new, we've repaired. The uncomfortable feeling you're experiencing is the healing potions still working inside your body healing the longer term damage. The feeling will pass when the potions have done their work."

"We've also given you nutrient potions; but, what we really need you to do now, is eat," she said. "Eat a lot. I'll organise a large tray of delicious hot food for you as soon as I'm done here - which, I now am."

With a smile and a final pat of his shoulder, the healer left.

Harry turned to Daphne and asked, "What happened after I - you know."

Hesitating a bit, Daphne replied, "When you collapsed there was this - dark spirit - that came out of your scar. It attacked the Professor wearing purple robes. Then it flew out the window. I found out from one of the older girls he was Professor Quirrell.

"You had this big burst of magic that sent crockery, cutlery, table decorations and some students flying. But, no one was really hurt. A couple of bumps and knocks, that's all. "

"Oh God. I'm sorry," he groaned.

"Not your fault," she firmly said. "The school healer worked on you for a bit and Madam Bones came in with some aurors. They moved all the students out of the way. Then some more healers came in. A couple helped Madam Pomfrey work on you while the others went about those students who had cuts and abrasions and healed them.

"Just as the healers were finishing up Professor Flitwick - he's the little half goblin professor - called in the house elves to clear away the mess and replace the crockery and cutlery. Professor Quirrell was levitated out the teacher's entrance a little while later. We found out, this morning, that he was dead because of a possession by the spirit of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Professor Flitwick then finished the sorting for the last half-dozen students - Weasley went into Gryffindor - and we were sent to our common rooms where the feast was served. That now makes you the only student not yet sorted. I was sorted into Slytherin, by the way; as was Tracey. If you don't remember, Neville's in Gryffindor, as is Hermione, and Susan and Hannah are in Hufflepuff.

"Dumbledore left for a while as soon as the aurors left, but came back about half an hour later, clearly upset. Professor McGonagall was upset with him for the whole time he was there; about you, I think. If looks could kill, she'd have killed him a dozen times over.

"All anyone could talk about all during the feast and right through to past breakfast, this morning, was you and what you did. Malfoy mouthed off in the common room after the feast, and Zabini punched him in the face for it."

"I tried to talk to Susan about what happened, this morning, but she didn't know anything. However, she's just as worried about you. I could see that Neville was the same.

"At lunch today, Neville came up to me and said how Weasley was going on in their dorm last night about how you were evil because you were supposedly possessed by You-Know-Who. Neville punched him and called him an ignorant idiot."

With a shrug and a wry grin, she said, "The general consensus is that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's spirit tried to take you over and you used your powerful magic to defeat it, thus proving you're everything from the reincarnation of Merlin to the reincarnation of Grindelwald. The Boy-Who-Lived has just defeated You-Know-Who for the second time."

Harry just closed his eyes and groaned in response. "Why me?" he plaintively asked no one in particular. "As if I don't already have enough on my plate?"

Daphne smiled, leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "I may not be a seer," she said. "But, I can already tell life is going to be very interesting around you, Mister Potter."

The three adults, by then, had finished their private discussion and came over.

"Alright, Harry," said Aunt Amelia. "I need you to tell me, in your own words, what happened last night. Specifically, I need to know why you got so angry."

Harry sighed and said, "I guess it all started back on the train platform at Kings Cross Station..."

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