Harry woke up with a splitting headache. He lazily opened his eyes and slowly sat upright in his bed, noticing in amazement that his head didn’t hit the ceiling. ‘Where am I?’ he mused incredulously. As far as he could remember, the evening before, he had fallen asleep in his cupboard, listening to his relatives’ preparations for Christmas. However, he found himself in a huge room with several beds like the hospital room at his primary school. But he wasn’t at school, and the beds looked very comfortable with red curtains in front of each. ‘No, this looks more than a dormitory,’ Harry pondered, slowly dragging himself out of bed. The walls, as far as they were visible behind the beds, wardrobes, and posters, seemed to be old stone walls like in a castle, and even the smell was completely different from that at home.

Harry hesitantly walked over to the door, feeling relief when he could open it, and anxiously descended the staircase that led him to a most comfortable looking cosy room with a number of sofas and chairs as well as a huge fireplace. Shivering violently in the cold winter air, Harry immediately stepped over to the fireplace, craving the warmth from the open fire.

‘Where am I? Am I stuck in a dream?’ he mused, glancing around the unknown space. Stepping over to a nearby window, he got a glimpse at a half frozen lake as well as a huge forest, which seemed to continue infinitely. Snow was covering the grounds, and rays of sunlight made the ice on the lake twinkle like little stars. ‘This can’t be real. I’ve never been to a forest, nor do I know a lake except for the small pond behind the park at Little Whinging, where Dudley tried to ice skate before, but it looks completely different from this one here. I must still be asleep,’ he decided, proceeding to curl up in front of the fireplace. Unfortunately, after a while he noticed that he was getting hungry, which was strange, because he was used to not being able to eat for a few days, and he had to use the bathroom. ‘Where is the bathroom?’ he pondered, feverishly looking around. He could only see two staircases, the one he had just descended as well as another one, which he tried to climb up in his search.

However, he only managed to proceed until the third step, before he was thrown back to the floor. ‘Ouch,’ Harry thought, rubbing his backside, before he tried the other staircase, the one, he had come down earlier. He opened all the doors leading from the staircase to large rooms like the one he had obviously slept in, but there was no bathroom. Only when he returned back down the staircase in frustration, he noticed half hidden and hardly recognizable doors right next to each of the sleeping rooms, which led to the bathrooms. ‘Thank God,’ he mused, hurriedly relieving himself, before he returned to the fireplace, curling up on the floor.

Pondering what to do next, he glanced around the room, noticing something that looked like a book lying under one of the sofas. He scrambled onto his feet and hesitantly pulled the thing out from under the sofa, before he returned to his spot in front of the fireplace, hiding his treasure under his pyjama top.

‘It’s like one of Dudley’s magazines,’ Harry thought in delighted excitement, and after once more confirming that he was alone in the room, he placed the magazine on the floor in front of himself. “The Quidditch Monthly,” he read aloud, frowning as he couldn’t understand the meaning. Hesitantly opening the magazine, he recognized people riding on... ‘No, that can’t be, people don’t fly on broomsticks,’ he told himself, putting the back of his hand to his forehead to assess if he was delirious from a high fever. ‘Probably yes,’ he decided, ‘people in pictures don’t even move let alone fly.’

He hesitantly skimmed through the magazine and was already about to close it when his eyes fell on a headline, ‘Harry Potter, the youngest Seeker in more than one hundred years.’

‘Oh, that’s a boy, who has the same name as I,’ Harry mused in surprise and watched the boy on his broom dive and catch something with his right hand that looked like a tiny golden ball, causing the children standing around the spot to cheer. ‘It would be great to be able to fly,’ he thought, tiredly turning his eyes to the dancing flames in the fireplace.

‘Where am I, how did I come here, and how am I supposed to get back home? Plus, do I really want to go home? It seems very comfortable here, but what if someone finds me? I surely am not supposed to be in such a nice place.’

Harry was pulled out of his reverie as a hole in the wall, which he hadn’t noticed before, was slammed close and a strict voice penetrated his ears. “Potter, how dare you not to show up for breakfast in spite of being ordered by your Head of House not to miss any meals?”

Harry anxiously turned his head to the dark figure that with a few steps had crossed the room and was now menacingly towering over him. “I’m sorry, sir,” he whispered, flinching back badly when the man grabbed the magazine from the spot right next to his arm.

“Ah, too engrossed in enjoying your fame, Potter?” the man, who was dressed in black robes, sneered.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry replied in a hardly audible voice. “Where am I, sir?”

“That’s enough of your insolence, Potter,” the man bellowed. “Follow me!” With that, he strode out of the comfortable room in a fast pace, his robes dramatically billowing behind him.

As fast as he could Harry followed the man through the unknown corridors of what seemed to be an immensely huge place, wondering all the time, ‘Who is that man, and why does he know me? I’m sure I’ve never met him before. He seems a bit like Uncle Vernon, but he’s too tall to be him in disguise.’

All of a sudden, the moving pictures on both sides of the corridor fell into his eyes, causing the boy to stop dead in his tracks, before he noticed that the black man was already out of sight. ‘Oh no, I have to hurry,’ Harry mused, trying to catch up with his guide to no effect. A few minutes later, he stood alone in a huge hall, noticing several normal sized doors as well as two large front doors. Choosing one of the front doors, Harry stepped out onto the grounds, recognizing the place as the one he had viewed from the window in the room with the fireplace.

It was bitter cold and lightly snowing outside, so Harry quickly made his way back into the still cold halls of the castle. Just before he reached the entrance doors, from the corner of his eye he caught a movement further down the hill and saw a large man of about three times the size of Uncle Vernon steadily move into his direction, pulling an extremely large Christmas tree behind him.

Before a terrified Harry could find an adequate hiding place, the man had spotted him and cheered, “Hello Harry, I’m glad you’re here. Can you open the door for me, please?”

“Which door?” Harry queried frightened, throwing the man a hesitant glance. ‘Is that a giant?’ he mused, feeling very uncomfortable.

“Of the Great Hall of course,” the man replied gently, causing Harry to hurriedly make his way over to the other side of the hall, following the large man’s finger, which pointed to one of the large doors. “Thank you, Harry. Come, let’s have breakfast,” he was told and anxiously followed the man to the far end of an enormous Hall, where about a dozen people were sitting around a large table eating breakfast.

“Ah, Hagrid, Harry,” an old man, whose resemblance to Father Christmas nearly caused Harry to go into shock, greeted them friendly, and Harry hesitantly sat down on one of the empty chairs, right next to the man, who had called him down from the other room earlier, glad to have found the man again.

Harry uncomfortably shifted in his seat, not used to being allowed to sit at the table together with people. Only when the tall man next to him hissed, “Eat, Potter, or do you need a special invitation?” he hesitantly took a slice of toast, slowly munching the delicious piece of bread that was still surprisingly warm.

Anxiously looking around, he noticed that apart from himself only adults were present at this breakfast, but he didn’t know anyone, nor did the other people’s conversations enlighten him as to where he was and what he was supposed to do. ‘They sound as if they were all teachers, and they’re wearing strange clothes,’ Harry mused. ‘Did the Dursleys put me into an orphanage over night? Probably that’s it,’ he decided after pondering the thought for a few minutes. ‘The only question is why there aren’t any other kids around, but anyway they’re supposed to tell me something, aren’t they?’

Harry curiously looked around the huge Hall, wondering if it didn’t have a ceiling. ‘It looks as if it was snowing, but the snow doesn’t come down here,’ he observed in surprise and amazement when the dark man’s silky voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Potter, be in time for lunch. I’m not going to invite you personally again, and Professor McGonagall will only be back in time for dinner. Don’t forget that you have to serve detention with me tonight after dinner.”

Throwing the man an anxious look, Harry replied in a hardly audible voice, “Yes, sir,” while he began to panic inwardly. ‘Detention? Dudley sometimes has detention at school, but I never had that, and is this a school here? Maybe the Dursleys didn’t dump me in an orphanage but that school for criminal boys Uncle Vernon spoke about before,’ he mused, feeling absolutely terrified at the thought, while he slowly followed the adults out of the hall.

Harry slowly trailed back up the staircase he had come down earlier when he had followed the tall man. However, he had no idea, where the room with the fireplace was, and finally strode aimlessly around the empty castle.

When the huge clock on the clock tower chimed twelve times, Harry realized that it had to be near lunchtime and hurried back down the huge staircase, knowing that he would be able to find his way back to the large dining hall.

As soon as Harry entered the Hall, the old man, who looked like Father Christmas, called him over and motioned him to sit on the chair next to him. Harry hesitantly sat down, throwing the old man an anxious glance.

“Is everything all right, Harry?” the old man queried in a gentle voice, causing Harry to nod.

“Yes sir,” he replied in a small voice. ‘How could anything be all right? I don’t even know who you are or where I am,’ he mused, slowly beginning to panic.

“Harry, please don’t forget to pull your robes over your casual attire when you attend meals in the Great Hall. By the way, tomorrow is Christmas Eve. If you have time, perhaps you could help Professor Flitwick decorate the tree as well as the Great Hall,” the Father Christmas like man suggested, and a small smile appeared on Harry’s face.

“I’d like that, sir,” he said shyly, hesitantly taking a spoonful of vegetables on his plate as dinner appeared on the table, while he mused, ‘Robes? What robes? Is that what they’re all wearing? But how do I get those?’

“What do you think Father Christmas is going to bring you this year, Harry?” a lady, who was sitting opposite of him, enquired in a soft voice, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Probably nothing,” Harry whispered uncomfortably. “I’ve never received anything from Father Christmas.”

“Ah, but I’m sure you’ll receive something this year,” the old man reassured him in a soothing voice, ignoring the gasps that his female colleagues let out at Harry’s reply.

When lunch was over, Harry continued to explore the castle, hoping to find his way back to the room, where he had spent the night, because he longed to lie down either on his bed or in front of the fireplace in order to forget his headache for a moment and to escape the icy air that crept through the thick stone walls into the corridors. However, he was not very successful to say the least.

After a few hours of walking around the castle, he let himself sink on the floor, leaning his back against the stone wall to rest for a few minutes. On the opposite wall was a large painting of two men and two ladies, who were sitting in a vast flower garden, having tea together. Suddenly, one of the women seemed to take pity on his exhausted figure and queried gently, “What are you doing on this floor, my boy? Hardly any student comes here.”

Harry let out a deep sigh, being in too much pain and fatigue to really comprehend that he was talking to a picture as he replied, “I’m looking for the comfortable room with the fireplace and many sofas around it, from where two stairs go up leading to several sleeping rooms.”

“Ah, you’re probably looking for your common room,” one of the men nodded in understanding. “Which House are you in, child?”

“I don’t know,” Harry whispered anxiously.

“You must know where you have been sorted, silly boy,” the other man threw in sternly, causing Harry to cringe at the tone.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t even know how I came here,” he explained hesitantly. “This morning, I woke up here in the castle, although I went to bed at home last night.”

“Something must be really wrong then,” the first man said thoughtfully. “What colour did the common room have? I mean the sofas and chairs as well as all the other equipment.”

“Red,” Harry replied anxiously.

“Well, then it’s Gryffindor, but the problem is that we can’t take you up to the tower to show you the entrance, because there are not enough pictures for us to hide and show you the way,” the man continued to speak. Let’s go and see if we can find one of the ghosts, who could lead the small one up to Gryffindor,” he suggested to his friends, and to Harry’s amazement the two men hurriedly left the picture.

Finally, Harry became aware of the fact that he was talking to a picture. He wearily put a hand up to his forehead, rubbing it fiercely. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ he thought horrified.

“How old are you, sweetie?” the first lady queried in a soft voice.

“I’m eight,” Harry told her, before his eyes widened at the sight of a silvery figure floating up the corridor and finally stopping right in front of him.

“Hello, I’m Helena Ravenclaw, the daughter of one of the founders of this school,” the ghost explained in a gentle voice. “But they also call me ‘The Gray Lady’,” she added.

“Hello, I’m Harry,” the boy mumbled in fear. “I’m sorry, but where am I?”

“You’re at Hogwarts, sweetie,” the friendly ghost replied gently. “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“Is this all real?” Harry asked anxiously, “or am I delirious?”

“We’re completely real,” the Gray Lady informed him softly. “Sir Arthur told me I should accompany you to Gryffindor tower, because you got lost. Shall we go?”

Harry readily agreed, thanking the four people in the picture profusely, before he hurried after the ghost, who was floating ahead in a moderate speed. All of a sudden, the Gray Lady stopped and waited for him. “Why is it that you’re looking for Gryffindor in spite of not even knowing that you’re at Hogwarts, my dear?” she queried gently, causing Harry to tell the nice ghost everything.

“Oh, well, I can show you to the common room, but it might be better if you went to the Headmaster and spoke with him. Do you know Professor Dumbledore?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “Oh wait. Is that the man, who looks like Father Christmas?” he guessed, causing the ghost to chuckle.

“Exactly my boy, and I believe that he probably is the only one in the castle, who might be able to help you.”

“Maybe I’ll speak to him tomorrow, but for now I’d just like to lie down and sleep, because I’ve a terrible headache and feel a bit dizzy,” Harry admitted in a small voice.

“Shall I take you to the hospital wing?” the ghost enquired with an expression of concern on her face.

“No thank you,” Harry replied, blushing deeply.

“All right, I know what we do,” the Gray Lady spoke up after remaining thoughtful for a moment. “Not far from here is the Room of Requirement. You have to pace in front of the door three times and whish for a room according to your needs, and then the room will appear. You can get a good night’s sleep, and I hope you’ll feel better tomorrow. If not you can call Rory, who is a many times great grandchild of my personal house elf, and he'll call me for you, so I can take you to the hospital wing.”

The ghost showed Harry where to pace the floor, and after a short while, a door appeared in the wall. Harry thanked the kind ghost profusely and hesitantly entered the room, looking around in fascination. ‘This is exactly as I imagined it. That’s amazing, just as if it was magic,’ he mused, looking around in fright as he thought the bad word with ‘m’, but Uncle Vernon was nowhere to be seen. ‘Wait, what did the Gray Lady call the castle? School for witchcraft and wizardry? Does this mean it’s a school for magic? I really must be dreaming. How can I get out of that dream, before Uncle Vernon might hear me talk about such things in my dream?’ he thought, slightly panicking.

The room held a huge bed like the one in which he had woken up in the morning, although the covers and curtains weren’t red but were kept in a light blue just like he had imagined it when he wished for the room. Next to the bed was a small bookshelf containing several books, which he’d loved to read if it weren’t for the headache, and a door led to a small bathroom. Extremely grateful to be able to lie down, Harry merely took off his shoes and scrambled into bed, falling asleep within seconds. He dreamed of moving pictures and talking ghosts, oblivious to the fact that six floors down an enraged Potions Master and a lemon drop sucking Headmaster told a worried Head of Gryffindor that her little lion didn’t only skip dinner and his detention in the Potions classroom but also behaved strangely at the meals he had been forced to attend.

HP

The next thing Harry knew was that a small creature was standing next to his bed bowing deeply. “Master Harry musts gets up and attends breakfast,” it told him in a high squeaking voice.

Harry lazily opened his eyes, noticing that his headache was still as bad as on the day before, and flinched back badly at the sight of the small creature.

“Excuse me, but...”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Master Harry. I’m Sunny, one of the house elves looking after the teachers. Professor McGonagall sent me to fetch you, because she couldn’t find you in Gryffindor.”

“Ah, right,” Harry replied shyly, remembering that the Grey Lady had said something about house elves the night before. “Excuse me,” he hesitantly began, “The Father Christmas like professor told me yesterday not to show up at meals without my ropes, but I don’t have any.” Seeing the small elf’s strange look, he mused, ‘No, it wasn’t ropes, but it was similar.’

“Wait a moment, Master Harry,” Sunny replied as understanding flashed up in her eyes and popped away, causing Harry’s eyes to widen in disbelief. An instant later, Sunny was back, handing Harry black robes. “Please head down to the Great Hall quickly,” the elf told him, before he popped away.

Harry pulled the robes over his pyjamas and took a minute to watch himself in the mirror, wondering what the crest meant that decorated the chest part of his robes, before he hurriedly left the room, glad that he knew where what everyone called ‘The Great Hall’ was. He hesitantly approached the teachers’ table, said politely, “Good morning,” and took a seat next to the tall professor, unaware of the fact that several people at the table frowned in incredulity at his decision of company.

“Good morning, Harry,” the Headmaster greeted him gently, followed by the other teachers.

“Potter, how dare you miss dinner as well as your detention with me?” the tall man next to him bellowed, throwing him a menacing glare.

“I’m sorry, but I had a bad headache and wanted to lie down for a moment, and then I fell asleep and only woke up a few minutes ago,” Harry explained in a small voice, unconsciously rubbing his forehead.

“You don’t expect me to accept a headache as a reason not to show up for detention, do you?” the man hissed. “You only had to ask me for a potion or go to the hospital wing if you preferred to get a potion from Madam Pomfrey.”

“Mr. Potter, where did you spend the night?” an older lady in green robes, sitting next to the Headmaster, enquired in a stern voice. “I went to look after you last night and then again this morning, but I couldn’t find you in Gryffindor.”

Harry frowned. “I’m sorry, Mme, but I’m not sure. The Gray Lady showed me to a room, where I could sleep for a while. She said it was called the room of wishes or something like that.”

Not aware of the partly strange, partly curious looks the teachers threw him, Harry flinched back badly when all of a sudden a snowy white owl descended to the table, making herself comfortable on his shoulder.

HP SEVERUS’ POV HP

‘Something is definitely off with the boy,’ Severus mused. ‘He behaves strangely, and why would he choose to sit next to me instead of taking one of the other empty seats next to Minerva or Albus and let them fawn over him all the time?’ He sighed, glancing at the boy, who was munching on a dry piece of toast. ‘I have to consider an adequate punishment for him because of skipping his detention last night. If he feels too sick to attend detention, he has to seek out Madam Pomfrey’s advice and let her excuse him just like all the other students have to do in such a case, apart from the fact that a simple headache potion probably would have sufficed to cure him in the blink of an eye.’

“You’ll serve detention with me every evening this week, and fifty points from Gryffindor for missing your detention unexcused,” he sneered, contentedly watching from the corner of his eye how Minerva let out a small gasp and threw a pitying look towards her little lion.

Strangely, the boy didn’t meet his expectations by throwing a temper tantrum. Instead, he replied, “Yes sir,” in a surprisingly polite voice.

When the post owls flew into the hall, the boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his own familiar made herself comfortable on his shoulder. ‘He definitely behaves strangely. I’ll have to talk about him with Minerva and Albus,’ Snape resolved, continuing to watch the boy from the corner of his eye.

HP HARRY’S POV HP

“Hello,” Harry said shyly when the owl began to nib at his earlap, holding out a letter for him that was attached to her foot. “Is that for me?” Harry queried in surprise, thinking, ‘Is that an owl? It’s absolutely beautiful, but who would send me a letter?’

Suddenly getting aware of the fact that everyone was watching him curiously, Harry hesitantly took the letter off the bird’s foot, watching as the owl carefully jumped onto the table and took a sip from his glass, before it took off and flew away. ‘I wonder what kind of juice that is,’ Harry mused. ‘It tastes like nothing I ever drank before, but it’s really delicious.’

He carefully opened the envelope, pulling out a small parchment, written in a very neat, slightly girlish writing.

‘Dear Harry,
I’m sure you’ll be surprised to receive a letter so soon after we returned home. It’s good that you left Hedwig with me for the holidays, so that I don’t have to wait for Ron or you to write to me. I’m very worried because of what Malfoy did right before he boarded the train. Harry, are you all right? Please promise me that if not you’ll tell one of the professors. They’ll all help you; even Professor Snape is not as bad as he pretends to be.
Take care, Harry. As nice as it is at home, I’m already missing you and Ron.
Love,
Hermione’

‘Who in the world is Hermione? And who is Ron?’ Harry mused, feeling absolutely terrified at the thought that he was obviously supposed to know things which he definitely didn't know. ‘Maybe I’m ill. It seems that I’m supposed to live here, so nobody finds it strange that I am here, but apparently I became ill or something happened to me, and I forgot everything I was supposed to know. What am I going to do? The Gray Lady told me to go and speak with the Headmaster, but I don’t want to ask him right in front of everyone else, and I don’t know him anyway. Maybe I should ask the black man when I serve my detention tonight. I have to follow him to wherever it’ll take place right after dinner,’ he decided, absentmindedly sliding the letter into his robe pocket.

“Harry,” the elder lady’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Do you have time, and would you like to help Professor Flitwick and me decorate the Great Hall and the Christmas tree this morning?”

“Yes, of course, Professor. I’d love to help,” Harry replied hesitantly, musing, ‘I just hope they don’t expect me to do anything, which I don’t know about.’

When everyone stood up to leave, Harry immediately walked over to the elder teacher, anxiously hovering behind her in order not to miss anything due to his obvious lack of memory. The tiny professor, who always sat on the opposite side of the table, joined them, smiling happily.

“I suggest,” he began to speak in a high children’s voice, “we charm the whole Great Hall, for example to a winter landscape, before we decorate the tree by conjuring or transfiguring objects into ornaments. What do you think, Minerva, Harry?”

“That’s a good idea,” the Minerva lady replied in an appreciative voice, glancing at Harry, who nodded unsurely.

‘I’ve no idea what he is talking about,’ Harry thought horrified, torn between amazement and horror as he observed the tiny man wave a stick, causing most part of the Great Hall’s floor to turn into artifice snow.

“All right, Harry, do you have your wand ready?” the woman queried, throwing him a challenging look.

“I don’t have a wand,” Harry mumbled anxiously, averting his eyes to the floor.

“You walked all over the castle without your wand?” the teacher asked incredulously, sighing in exasperation. “Mr. Potter, you should know better than to be so reckless. Please go and fetch your wand from your dormitory immediately.”

Startled by the professor’s strict voice, Harry jumped up and dashed out of the Great Hall and up the first flight of stairs, before he sat down on a step, sighing in absolute desperation. ‘What am I going to do now?’ he mused, trying to ignore the annoying headache as well as he could in order to be able to think of something a plan. Suddenly remembering what the Gray Lady had told him in the evening, he decided to call the house elf and ask him to fetch her. “Rory!” he spoke up in a small voice, causing a small creature with large eyes and ears like Sunny’s to pop up right next to him on the stairs.

“Hello Master Harry,” Rory said politely, bowing deeply. “The Gray Lady informed me about your situation, Master Harry, and I’d love to help you out, sir.”

“Thank you so much, Rory. I need to get to my dormitory to fetch my wand if I have one,” Harry replied, throwing the small elf a helpless look.

“I’ll fetch your wand for you, Master Harry,” Rory replied and popped away, only to re-appear seconds later with a stick in his hand, which he handed to Harry.

Harry hesitantly took the wand from the elf, sighing in comfortable relief as a reassuring warmth spread over his body as soon as he carefully clasped the stick with his right hand. “Thank you so much, Rory,” he said gratefully and slowly made his way back to the Great Hall.

“All right then, let’s begin,” the tiny professor squeaked in delight at Harry’s sight, and with a flick of his wand it began to snow above their heads. However, the snow didn’t reach them, let alone the floor. Afterwards, the professor showed them how to charm the wall to display Christmas motives and greetings. “It’s not difficult,” he tried to reassure Harry, seeing that the boy threw him an anxious glance.

Harry hesitantly pointed his wand at the wall, looking to the professor.

“Try to speak the charm after me, Harry,” the tiny professor cheered, causing Harry to watch him closely.

‘Well, I can only try,’ Harry mused, fiercely rubbing his forehead, before he tried to imitate the professor’s wand movement. However, nothing happened.

“Do you remember the Levitation charm, Harry?” the elder female professor queried gently. “Look, this is not so different.” Seeing that Harry stood there with an uncertain expression, showing hardly any reaction to her instruction, the teacher threw him a piercing look. “Harry, are you feeling all right?” she enquired in obvious concern.

Feeling outright sick now, Harry slightly shook his head, whispering, “My head...”

The teacher took a step in his direction and gently tried to lay a hand on his forehead, sighing in exasperation when he flinched back badly. “Mr. Potter, I’m not going to hurt you,” she said sternly. “I merely wanted to make sure that you’re not ill.” Noticing that his cheeks were deeply flushed, his eyes looked glazed over, and the child was slightly shivering in spite of the warmth in the Great Hall, she made him sit down on a chair, before she pointed her wand at a tissue, transfiguring it into a Muggle thermometer.

“Mr. Potter, please let me at least take your temperature to make sure that you’re all right,” she said firmly, sticking the business end into his mouth.

Harry shivered violently at the cold sensation under his tongue. ‘Perhaps I’m only sick, and when I’m back to health everything will be all right and I find myself back in my cupboard,’ he mused, feeling absolutely horrible. ‘Otherwise I’ll ask the other professor for help when I’m in detention tonight,’ he resolved. ‘On the other hand, I’d love to live in such a magical castle.’

After an infinite amount of time, the thermometer beeped, and Harry quickly handed it back to the professor, who let out an exasperated gasp as she looked at the display. “Harry, you’re running a very high fever. Why didn’t you tell me or go to see Madam Pomfrey?” she asked incredulously.

“I didn’t know,” Harry mumbled frightened. ‘I hope she won’t lock me in somewhere like Aunt Petunia locks me in for days when I’m sick,’ he prayed, hesitantly turning his eyes to the professor.

“Filius, please excuse us. I have to take Mr. Potter to the hospital wing,” the teacher said softly, before she turned back to him. “Come, Harry, let’s take you to Madam Pomfrey. I’m sure she’ll be able to make you feel better quickly.”

Harry wearily followed the professor up a flight of stairs and into a large room equipped with a dozen empty beds. The late morning sunrays streamed through the huge windows on both sides of the room, bathing the room into a soft yellowish light. The teacher led him to the bed nearest to the office, in which the kind lady, who had been sitting next to Harry at breakfast, was bustling around.

“Lie down, Harry. I’ll get Madam Pomfrey for you,” he was told and gratefully lay down on the comfortable bed, sighing in relief as his achy head hit the pillow.

“What happened, Mr. Potter?” the Mediwitch asked gently, already waving her wand over him. She continued to quietly speak diagnostic spells for a few minutes, before she finally put her wand away and turned to the teacher, sighing. “He has indeed a very high fever and a tremendous headache. Other than that I can’t find anything wrong. It could be a strange kind of the flu, which my diagnostic spells can’t recognize. If his condition doesn’t improve within a few days, I’ll have to take him to St. Mungo’s for a few examinations though.”

From the corner of his eye Harry could see that the teacher threw the Mediwitch a terrified glance. “Well, let’s hope that it’s only a strange kind of flu,” the Healer concluded her examination and bustled back to her office only to return seconds later with two goblets in her hands.

Feeling too unwell to question anything, Harry willingly gulped down the strange looking and disgustingly tasting liquids, noticing that his headache improved remarkably, before his eyes shut close and he drifted off into a potions induced sleep.

McGonagall followed Pomfrey back into her office. “Poppy, how long will he have to remain in bed, provided that it’s the flu?” she enquired softly.

The Mediwitch sighed. “I’m so sorry for the child, Minerva. Yesterday, I asked him what he believed he’d get from Father Christmas, and do you know what he told me?” Seeing her friend shake her head, she continued, “That he never received a present from Father Christmas, because he wasn’t a good boy. Fortunately, Albus explained that he would surely get something this year. However, I can’t see him participate in the festivities right now. We’ll have to wait and see.”

Seeing that his condition hardly improved at all, the Mediwitch kept Harry asleep the whole day, frequently checking on him and spelling fever reducers, headache potions, and nutrient potions straight into his system.

By the time Harry woke up, it was already dark outside, and he could see the teacher, who had brought him into the hospital wing, the Mediwitch, and the Father Christmas like professor sitting in the office together having tea. ‘Oh no! I have to serve detention with the black teacher,’ he suddenly remembered and hurriedly scrambled out of bed. Since he had no idea, where his detention was going to take place, he once more called Rory, asking the kind elf for help in a small voice.

“A tall teacher in black clothes? That must be Professor Snape, the Potions Professor,” Rory whispered. “I don’t think you’re allowed to leave from here, but if you wish, I’ll take you to the Potions classroom, Master Harry.”

“Yes please,” Harry replied, quickly pulling his robe over his pyjamas after making sure that his wand and the letter from Hermione were still in the pocket, and followed the elf out of the hospital wing, having not experienced Madam Pomfrey’s wrath before to know better.

By the time they reached the dungeons, Harry felt utterly exhausted and his headache was back full force. Rory excused himself, after making sure that Harry would find his way back to the hospital wing on his own.

Harry hesitantly knocked at the door, feeling slightly relieved when he was called in only seconds later.

“You’re late, Potter,” the professor sneered. “Ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness and another ten points for missing dinner AGAIN.”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Harry replied shyly. “I had to take medicine that made me so sleepy, and I only woke up a few minutes ago. I’ll be more careful not to be late tomorrow.”

“Very well, Mr. Potter,” the teacher replied, frowning slightly at the boy’s choice of words. He pointed to five dirty cauldrons and ordered the child, “Clean these cauldrons without magic. Afterwards, you can help me prepare ingredients for a healing potion.”

“Yes Professor,” Harry agreed politely, throwing the professor a confused look as he held out his hand.

“Your wand,” the teacher said in a clear voice laced with annoyance, causing Harry to quickly hand over his wand.

‘Thank God,’ Harry mused. ‘I don’t know what to do with that thing anyway. These pots... no, what did he call them... cauldrons... are really big. I wonder if I’ll have to help him cooking. I think I’m fairly good at cooking, at least I’m better than Aunt Petunia.’ He curiously looked around the room, finding it to be the most interesting room he had seen at the castle so far. Small phials with all kind of imaginable small animals and other potions ingredients filled the shelves at the wall to his left side, and on the other side...

“What are you waiting for, Potter?” the professor bellowed, causing Harry to apologize profusely, automatically bowing his head like Sunny and Rory had done towards him earlier.

Harry tried hard to clean the dirty cauldrons as best as he could without looking at the professor at all, who seemed to be busying himself grading papers. ‘I should tell him everything and show him Hermione’s letter. Maybe he’ll understand what’s wrong with me and be able to help me,’ he mused as he carefully rinsed the largest cauldron and set it aside. However, he dare not speak to the professor. ‘At least I have to finish my detention first, before I can even think about asking him for help,’ Harry told himself.

Due to the chores he always had to do at home, he was used to work quickly, and in spite of feeling absolutely awful, he finished the cauldrons quickly and anxiously stepped in front of the professor. “Professor, I’m sorry to disturb you,” he began hesitantly. Seeing that the teacher looked up from his work, he continued, “I’ve cleaned and dried the cauldrons. Where do I have to put them?”

Snape threw the boy a surprised look, recalling that hardly any student bothered putting the cleaned cauldrons away. “Over there in the cupboard,” he said evenly without any malice in his voice, before he couldn’t help asking, “Who are you, and what did you do to Mr. Potter?” He piercingly observed as the boy carefully stored a cauldron in the cupboard.

“I don’t know,” Harry mumbled, averting his eyes to the floor.

“You don’t know?” the professor repeated questioningly, raising an eyebrow.

‘I really should tell him everything now and ask him for help,’ Harry decided, trying to summon all his courage, before he opened his mouth. “I mean, I thought...” he hesitantly began to explain what had been bothering him since the previous day, just when the fireplace flared green, causing his eyes to widen in disbelief. ‘I thought fire was always red,’ he mused as he feverishly held on to the table in order not to sway in front of the professor.

Harry’s eyes widened even more as the older female professor, who had brought him to the hospital wing in the morning, stepped out of the fireplace. Seeing his surprised look, the woman queried, “Did you never see the Floo network before?”

Harry slightly shook his head, wincing at the pain the small movement caused, which reminded the teacher of the reason for her visit. “Harry, how dare you leave the hospital wing without being released by Madam Pomfrey? Didn’t she tell you that you’re on absolute bed rest for a few days?”

“I’m sorry, Professor, I didn’t know that. I was asleep the whole day, and when I woke up I remembered that I had to serve detention and came here,” Harry explained in a small voice.

“Severus, did you not know that Harry was ill, considering that he didn’t attend any meal since breakfast?”

“I’m sorry, Minerva, but since you’re back I didn’t keep an eye on Mr. Potter anymore, and the boy didn’t say anything,” Snape replied silkily.

“All right, Harry. Let me take you back to the hospital wing,” the Minerva lady told him and Harry wearily followed her out of the room, unaware of the fact that he forgot to take his wand back from the Potions Master.

“I’m sorry, Professor, to be such a burden,” Harry once again apologized to the kind lady, who gently tucked him in when he lay down on his bed in the hospital wing, sighing in relief at the soft touch of the comfortable bed.

“You’re not a burden, Harry, and you’re welcome,” the woman replied softly, gently patting his hot hand, before she continued, “but you better apologize to Madam Pomfrey as well. She’ll be very angry.”

Harry noticed soon that the professor hadn’t exaggerated. An instant later, the livid Mediwitch stood in front of his bed, both hands stemmed into her sides. “Mr. Potter, you are not to leave this bed until I tell you otherwise, and I will not have you release yourself from my care. Do you understand me?” she scolded him in a clear voice, glaring daggers at him at the same time.

“Yes, I’m sorry, Madam Pomfrey. I only remembered that I had to serve detention and thought I’d better attend,” Harry apologized anxiously.

“If you do as much as move a leg out of this bed, I’ll use a sticking charm to keep you in it,” the Mediwitch threatened, causing Harry to cringe.

“I’m sorry, Madam Pomfrey, I won’t,” he promised in a small voice, already drifting off to sleep as the Mediwitch spelled a fever reducer into his system, which was laced with a sleeping draught.

HP

It was still dark outside when Harry was pulled out of a blissful sleep by a sudden bang of the entrance doors, causing the child to blink and hastily glance around in confusion. Before he could even reach for his glasses, he saw a blurry black figure strode through the otherwise empty hospital wing, which was only lightened by a few torches along the wall, and his frightened expression turned into a genuine smile. It was not as if the teacher was very kind to him, but since Harry wasn’t used to kindness at all, he didn’t mind the fact, and he somehow felt safe with the professor, who had been the first person to come and look after him when he was in the room with the fireplace, where he had been all on his own.

“Good morning, Professor,” Harry said softly and quickly put his glasses on.

HP SEV’S POV HP

The Slytherin Head of House frowned. “Good morning, Mr. Potter,” Snape replied silkily, wondering why the golden boy’s expression turned to delight at his sight. ‘One could assume that he had something on his mind. Yesterday and even the day before, he already tried to sit next to me at meal times, and he behaves too well recently,’ he mused. “What are you trying to achieve, Mr. Potter?” he sneered, causing the boy to throw him a confused look. ‘Either he is really surprised or he plays whatever he’s playing at really well. I’d love to look into his thoughts.’

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, sir,” Harry whispered, while his face took on a pensive expression.

“I’m talking about your recent behaviour, Mr. Potter,” Snape explained and after a quick decision cast a word- and wandless Legilimens spell on the child, carefully searching for his recent interactions with the child. He watched as Harry anxiously entered the Great Hall, sighing in relief as he sat down next to him, because he felt save in his company, and he felt that Harry had been truly pleased to see him enter the hospital wing earlier. Not wanting to aggravate the child’s condition further, Snape pulled out of his mind quickly, throwing the boy a questioning glance.

HP HARRY’S POV HP

“Are you having any problems, other than your current health condition, Mr. Potter?” he queried in a friendlier voice, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Probably,” Harry whispered anxiously, scrambling out of the bed in search for his robes. “I have to...”

“What do you think you’re doing out of bed?” the angered voice of the Mediwitch suddenly penetrated his ears, causing his face to pale immensely. “Do you remember what I told you what was going to happen if you set as much as a foot out of your bed, Harry?”

Harry cringed at her stern voice. “I’m sorry, Madam, but I wanted to show the Professor something,” he whispered frightened, hurriedly climbing back on his bed.

“I am sorry, too, Mr. Potter,” was the stern reply, before Madam Pomfrey cast a sticking charm that made his complete body stick to the bed. He could still move each of his limps but not raise them from the mattress. Even his head could only be moved to the side.

“I suggest that you take your leave, Severus. Mr. Potter is still too ill to have visitors,” Pomfrey told her colleague with a still angered expression, before she cast several diagnostic spells on the child and spelled three different potions into his system.

‘Thank God,’ Harry mused as he felt his body cool down a bit and his headache receded some. ‘The medicine they have here is brilliant.’

“What was it that you wanted to show me, Mr. Potter?” Snape queried as he stood up from the edge of the bed.

‘What was that?’ Harry mused, suddenly feeling warm and drowsy. “Oh right, I’m sorry, Professor, it was a letter from Hermione.”

The professor’s expression changed into one of a mixture of surprise and disgust, before he raised an eyebrow at the child and sneered, “And why would I be interested in a letter from one of your fawning fans, Mr. Potter?”

Before Harry could get out of his stupor the teacher’s expression had caused, Madam Pomfrey shooed the man out of the hospital wing, shouting, “Don’t use that tone with my patients, Severus.”

Harry sighed, closing his eyes in despair. ‘Oh no; what am I going to do now?’ he pondered. ‘When will he come to visit me again, if he comes back at all after his reaction when I mentioned Hermione’s letter?’

“Harry,” Pomfrey’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. “It’s still very early, and I suggest that I give you a light sleeping draught that’ll make you sleep for a few hours. If you feel well enough to get up for breakfast in the Great Hall, you may accompany me for a while and gather your Christmas presents from under the tree.”

“I’d like that,” Harry mumbled sleepily. “I don’t think I’ll need a sleeping draught,” he added, succumbing to the spell the Mediwitch had unobtrusively cast at him.

HP

When Harry woke up the next time it was already light; however, due to the lack of sunshine the room didn’t look as warm as the day before, and Harry couldn’t see through the window, which was completely covered with frost patterns. ‘Thank God she took the sticking charm off me,’ he mused, looking around the quiet hospital wing.

All of a sudden the Mediwitch strode into the room, followed by the Minerva Professor. ‘I really have to learn the teachers’ names,’ Harry thought, frantically searching his mind for the professor’s surname.

“How are you feeling, Harry?” she queried in a soft voice, sitting down on the edge of his bed, while Madam Pomfrey once more waved her wand over him.

“His fever came down half a degree, which means that it is still very high,” the Mediwitch told her colleague, who threw Harry a piercing look.

“I feel a bit better, thank you, Professor,” Harry replied in a small voice, pondering if he wanted to attend Christmas breakfast at all. ‘Maybe they let me try to do magic again and I get into trouble because I have no idea how to cast a spell,’ he mused.

“Are you feeling well enough to get up for a while?” the professor enquired, and hearing Harry’s faint ‘yes’, she transfigured his pyjamas into dark blue trousers with a green jumper, covered by green dress robes, causing the child to look down at himself in amazement.

Pomfrey and McGonagall slowly walked down to the Great Hall with Harry in their middle, exchanging unbelieving looks when the child automatically took the empty seat next to the Potions Master.

“Merry Christmas, Professor,” Harry said in a small voice, looking around the beautifully decorated Great Hall in amazement. ‘It’s not only snowing at the ceiling but also around the room, but not a single flake comes down here, and the colourful baubles on the tree are gorgeous,’ he mused.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter,” the Potions Master replied, raising an eyebrow at the polite child.

“Good morning my boy,” the Headmaster greeted him from Snape’s other side. “How good that you’re able to join us for our Christmas breakfast.”

“Good morning, sir,” Harry replied shyly, throwing a terrified look at his plate, which automatically filled itself with a little bit of everything. During the next twenty minutes, he kept himself occupied by pushing his food around the plate, before the dark teacher reprimanded him.

“Stop playing with your food, Mr. Potter. If you don’t want to eat, maybe you should go and see if there are any presents from your doting relatives or friends,” the man sneered, causing Harry to throw him a surprised glance.

“My relatives never give me presents,” he whispered in a hardly audible voice, “and I don’t have friends.”

Before Harry even knew what happened and had a chance to flinch back, a cold slender hand found its way to his forehead. “I believe that you belong into bed, Mr. Potter,” the man declared, turning to his female colleagues. “Poppy, Minerva, the boy is delirious. How could you deem him well enough to...”

The teacher couldn’t finish his sentence as the Headmaster cut in, “I believe you’re right my boy. Could you please gather his presents for him and take him back to the hospital wing.”

The black man threw the Father Christmas like professor an annoyed glare. “I am not a nursemaid, Albus, and I’m sure that Poppy or Minerva will be much more adequate for babying Potter.”

“I don’t need to be babied, Professor,” Harry threw in, slightly indignant. ‘I’m eight and not a baby anymore,’ he thought sadly.

“No Severus,” the Minerva teacher spoke up. “You are the one, whose company Harry chose.”

“Exactly,” the Headmaster agreed. “Please take Harry back to the hospital wing and help him open his presents.”

‘Please,’ Harry thought, hopefully looking up at the man, who let out a long sigh.

“Very well then. Come on Mr. Potter.” He walked by the huge Christmas tree and waved his wand, causing a small pile of presents to settle down on his left arm, before he strode ahead towards the hospital wing with his robes billowing behind him in a remarkable way.

“I’m sorry Professor, to be such a burden,” he told the man in a small voice as he finally caught up with him in front of the hospital wing and quickly opened the door for him since the man was still carrying his presents.

“You’re not a burden, Mr. Potter,” the professor replied in surprise, giving the child a piercing look, before he ordered him back into bed.

Harry complied, glad to be able to lie down, and looked in amazement at the presents the teacher placed on his night table. Snape pulled a chair over, and with a flick of his wand he transfigured the chair into a relaxing armchair and made himself comfortable, knowing that he’d have to spend his time with the boy until Poppy or Minerva came to release him.

“Shall I help you open your presents, Mr. Potter?” he forced himself to ask between gritted teeth.

“No thank you, Professor,” Harry said softly, reaching under his pillow, from where he pulled out Hermione’s letter. “I need your help with something else, sir.” He thrust the letter at the Potions Master, who opened the parchment with obvious disgust, before his eyes widened in horror as he proceeded to read.

“I thought that something was strange about you the whole time since I fetched you from your common room that day,” the teacher said thoughtfully. “Do you have an idea what is wrong with you, Mr. Potter?”

“I think I must have lost memories. I woke up here in my dormitory, wondering where I was, because I was sure I had fallen asleep in my cupboard the evening before.”

“In your cupboard?” the Potions Master queried, raising an eyebrow.

“I live in the cupboard under the stairs, sir,” Harry explained in a small voice, slowly averting his eyes to his bed covers.

“Mr. Potter, this is very important. What exactly do you remember?” Snape asked, slightly alarmed.

“Remember of what?” Harry gave back, looking at the teacher once more. “I remember everything until the day, well, before I woke up here at Hogwarts.”

“What do you remember about Hogwarts?”

“Nothing. The Gray Lady told me that the castle is called Hogwarts and that the Father Christmas like Professor is the Headmaster. I know that the name of the doctor here is Madam Pomfrey, and I know that you teach cooking.”

Snape smirked. “Do I understand it correctly that you don’t remember these things but acquired the knowledge after your memory loss?”

“Yes sir,” Harry gave back in a small voice, feeling incredibly stupid.

“The Headmaster’s name is Professor Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey is a Mediwitch, and I do not teach cooking but Potions,” Severus corrected the child in his soft silky voice. “Mr. Potter, please remain in bed; I will fetch Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, who is your Head of House, and Madam Pomfrey. We’ll have to see what we can do so that you get your memories back.”

“Okay,” Harry replied lazily, already drifting off to sleep, before the professor had even left the room.

When his mind slowly turned back to consciousness, several blurry figures were standing around his bed. He hurriedly reached out for his glasses when a soft voice said soothingly, “Easy Mr. Potter. Here are your glasses.”

Harry felt his glasses being slid over his face and threw the person that turned out to be the black teacher, of whom he still didn’t know the name, a grateful look.

“Harry,” the Headmaster turned to him. “It seems that one of your classmates cast a spell on you that made you lose all your memories of the past year.”

“How old am I?” Harry queried softly, wondering if it was only a year that he was missing.

“You’re eleven, and you are a first year student at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall replied, causing Harry to gasp.

“Then I’m missing three years, Professors. From what I remember I’m only eight,” he explained, and the four adults groaned at the information.

“Harry,” the Headmaster spoke again. “I’m afraid that we have to do several tests in order to find out, which spell Mr. Malfoy exactly used and if and how we’re able to cancel it. Most of the tests Madam Pomfrey will perform through diagnostic spells; however, it is also necessary that Professor Snape tries to enter your mind in order to clarify the situation. Do you think you’ll be able to endure these tests in your conscious condition, or should we wait until you’re asleep?”

“It’s all right,” Harry replied wearily. “Excuse me, sir, but who is Professor Snape?”

Seeing anxiousness flicker in the boy’s eyes, Severus, who apparently felt pity for the child, replied soothingly, “That’s me, and I promise to be careful, Mr. Potter.”

“Ah all right,” Harry gave back and immediately relaxed.

During the next two hours, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape cast every thinkable diagnostic spell on the child that could possibly enlighten the amount of damage made by the memory spell. Severus even cast a Legilimens spell on Harry, but he wasn’t able to locate any of the memories from the last three years.

“I’m afraid we have to call a specialist from St. Mungo’s,” Pomfrey finally announced, causing Harry to throw her a frightened look. “Don’t worry, Harry; St. Mungo’s is the magical hospital, and I promise you that we won’t send you there. We’ll ask a Healer, who is a specialist with memory charms and spells, to come and check on you.”

“Kay,” Harry said anxiously.

Pomfrey bustled away, muttering to herself as she stepped to the fireplace in her office to contact the hospital. Ten minutes later, two Healers, an elder man and a younger woman, both of them clothed in white robes, approached Harry’s bed, greeted him in a friendly way, and spent a few minutes talking to him, before they simultaneously began to wave their wands, casting several dozen diagnostic spells.

“I found it,” the older man finally announced and, seeing that everyone was looking at him expectantly, explained, “It’s the Memoria Oblivio Itero spell,” causing Snape to gasp.

Madam Pomfrey put her hand in front of her mouth, while her eyes widened in horror. “Can you estimate a time-frame, Healer McMillan?” she asked in a trembling voice.

The Healer sighed and pensively looked at Harry, before motioned his colleague to cast a specific diagnostic spell. “Two opinions are better than one,” he explained.

The two Healers stepped aside and conferred for two minutes, before Healer McMillan slowly explained, “I’m sorry. This is a brain problem, and the memory loss is probably permanent. The chance that the boy will get his complete memory back is null. However, he might be able to retrieve single memories if they’re triggered by something. Unfortunately, this is not the worst part of my bad news yet.” He paused, throwing a pitiful look at Harry, who in the meantime had drifted back to sleep. “The problem can re-occur at any time. We’ve been researching this problem for a few years now, but regrettably we’re not sure which circumstances are likely to trigger another memory loss.”

The female Healer took over and explained, “The boy has to be watched carefully so that he can be helped quickly in case it occurs again. We also suggest that he will be given the opportunity to put valuable memories in a Pensieve every night. There are some kinds of memory loss, in which it is recommendable that the patient gets his memories back on his own; however, in this case this is close to impossible. He may get memories back from his own old memories stored in a Pensieve. Apart from that, he must have people around him to help him and tell him whatever he needs to know. He might also easily forget things, and he will probably suffer from headaches and fevers from time to time like he currently does.”

“Will it make sense that he attends school at all?” Dumbledore queried with a shocked expression on his face that was missing the usual twinkle in his eyes.

“Well, he has to take notes, so that he can learn everything anew if necessary. It’s not as if the memory loss would be going to happen once a week. It might occur once in several months or even years,” Healer McMillan replied gently. “We are working on the problem, and our Potions Masters are trying to invent a potion that prevents another memory loss. Perhaps if you were willing to cooperate with our Potion Masters, Professor Snape, you’d be able to accomplish something in a short time.”

Snape inclined his head, acknowledging the compliment the Deputy Head Healer of St. Mungo’s had just made him. With that, the two Healers took their leave, causing everyone to remain pensive for a few minutes.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

“Severus,” the Headmaster was the first to find words, “I know that I’m asking a lot, but I need you to take the child in and become his guardian, together with Minerva or Poppy if you wish. He can’t possibly return to his dormitory and needs to be monitored closely as you heard.”

“Don’t tell me the ‘Potter chose you’ story again, Albus,” Snape replied slowly, glaring at the Headmaster. ‘But you are the one, whose company he chose and whom he confided in,’ a voice at the back of his mind spoke up, causing him to relent, “Well, in that case I need Poppy or Minerva to become his second guardian, because I’ll probably have to spend much time in my lab as well as at St. Mungo’s if we want the research for a potion for him to be fruitful.”

“I wouldn’t mind becoming Harry’s guardian, but considering his physical condition I think it would be better if he was living with Poppy and Severus, because they can easily help him if he has problems,” McGonagall said thoughtfully.

“That’s true,” Pomfrey agreed. “The problem is that I’m hardly ever in my personal quarters during the evening. I can leave the connecting door open of course, but he’s going to live with Severus anyway, isn’t he?”

The Headmaster cleared his throat. “I suggest that we let the house elves make a room for Harry in Severus’ quarters and add a connecting door from Harry’s room to Poppy’s quarters, so that Harry can enter both of your rooms as he wishes and needs.”

Snape and Pomfrey both agreed, and Dumbledore called a house elf, instructing him to make a room for Harry.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

When Harry woke up, he noticed that it was already getting dark outside; however, the torches between the windows in the hospital wing were still lit, throwing the room in a comfortable yellowish light. A blurry figure was sitting on the edge of his bed, gently handing him his glasses.

“Thank you. Oh, hello Madam Pomfrey,” Harry smiled at the Mediwitch, whom he liked very well, because she was extremely kind.

“Harry, Professor Snape just went to see your relatives in order to make them sign over the guardianship. We decided that Professor Snape and I should become your guardians if that’s all right with you,” Pomfrey told him in a soft voice, causing Harry to throw her a genuine smile.

“You and Professor Snape? Is that the black teacher?” he asked anxiously, sighing in relief when Madam Pomfrey nodded. “I’d like that very much, Madam Pomfrey. Does that mean that I don’t have to return to the Dursleys’ anymore?”

“Yes Harry, You can always stay here at Hogwarts with us, even during the summer holidays.” She let out a small sigh. “Harry, I must tell you something else. The Healers from St. Mungo’s informed us that you have a certain illness, which caused you to forget everything that happened over the last three years. This illness is also the reason for your headache and the fever. As this is a magical illness induced by a spell the Headmaster allowed us to become your guardians, considering that your relatives wouldn’t be able to help you at all if you had problems during the holidays. From now on, you’re going to live with us. The house elves have made a room for you, which is part of Professor Snape’s quarters and mine at the same time. If you feel well enough for a small walk through my office, we could move you into your own room right away.”

“I’d like that, but can’t I stay in my dormitory anymore? Professor Snape told me I had even friends in my House, and I never had friends before,” Harry replied, uncertainly playing with his bed covers.

“Harry,” Pomfrey hesitantly continued an explanation, which she had hoped not to have to give the boy right away, “the problem is that you could feel ill or could forget things from time to time, and therefore it will be the best if I can check on you every night before you go to bed and if you put your most important memories of each day into a Pensieve, which is a magical method to conserve a memory. That sounds worse than it is, Harry,” she added quickly, noticing Harry’s frightened expression. “Normally, you have to stay in our quarters overnight, which will be your home from now on. However, if you want to spend the night in Gryffindor for some reason and I have the impression that you’re completely well, I might allow you to remain in the dormitory overnight. All right, sweetie?”

“All right,” Harry replied in a small voice, feeling slightly consoled at the thought that for the first time in his life there were adults, who wanted to help him.

“Harry, your friends will be able to visit you in your own room whenever you wish. Tomorrow, we will speak with Professor Snape about the matter, but I think we should invite your two best friends, Hermione and Ron, to come and visit you here sometime during the holidays. You will probably need their assistance, and they should know exactly what’s wrong with you. They’ll be able to help you to a different extent than Professor Snape and I.”

They talked for a few minutes longer, before Pomfrey motioned Harry to get up and only take his wand with him. “You can leave your presents here; I’ll take them to your room later on,” she said gently as she led him through her office into her living room.

Harry took the offered seat on a sofa, looking around curiously. The room was held completely in white except for a group of dark blue chairs and a sofa surrounding a white table. On one side the walls were covered with white bookshelves, holding hundreds of books, of which Harry couldn’t read the exact titles from the distance, but from the few titles large enough to decipher he had the impression as if most of them were books about Healing. On the other side of the room were three huge magical windows. The left one showed a view on the Quidditch pitch, the one in the middle was a window to the empty hospital wing, and through the right one Harry could see part of the grounds and the lake.

“The view is beautiful,” he breathed in complete amazement, causing the Mediwitch to smile.

Pomfrey had told him to sit down in order to show him where each of the doors going out from her living room led, knowing that he wasn’t well enough to walk through her quarters right now. However, seeing how interestedly Harry looked around, she waited patiently.

“Harry, this door here,” she pointed to the door next to her office, “leads to your own room. The door over there leads to the kitchen, the next one to the bathroom, and the room next to yours is my bedroom. I’ll leave the door open at night just in case you need me.”

“All right, Madam Pomfrey. Thank you very much,” Harry replied gratefully.

“You’re welcome Harry. Please promise me that you’ll tell either Professor Snape or me if there is anything that bothers you, and if we’re alone or here at home, you may call me ‘Poppy’,” the Mediwitch instructed him softly. “Now, seeing that we both missed Christmas dinner, I suggest that we ask the house elves to bring us something to eat.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed wearily, not feeling hungry at all.

Just then the dark teacher, no... Professor Snape stepped into the doorframe from Poppy’s office. “Poppy, may I come in?”

“Of course, Severus, you come right in time for dinner,” Poppy replied, waving the man over.

“Hello Professor,” Harry said in a small voice, and the edges of his mouth pulled up slightly when the teacher took a seat next to him on the sofa. ‘Somehow, he looks very contented. Probably, the Dursleys have agreed happily to give up the guardianship over me,’ Harry mused, while he watched Poppy call a house elf and order dinner.

“Hello Mr. Potter,” Snape replied, causing Poppy to let out a small snort.

“Well, as you know we’re going to be something like a family. Don’t you think it would be nicer if you called each other with your given names, Severus?”

Snape raised an eyebrow at his colleague, before he turned to Harry. “At home and if we’re alone you may call me ‘Severus,’ and I’ll call you by your given name. However, at all other times, we have to use our formal names. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir,” Harry replied in a small voice, averting his eyes to the table, where Christmas dinner just popped up, causing him to observe the delicious looking food with amazement.

Poppy placed a little bit of everything on his plate, motioning him to eat as much as he could, before she threw Severus a curious look. “Severus, you look incredibly smug tonight. Please tell me what you did to the Dursleys.”

Harry threw a surprised glance at his new guardian, who raised an eyebrow at the Mediwitch, looking extremely innocent.

“Let’s say, they are... alive,” the Potions Master replied, smirking, “and they have a real chance to survive.”

Snape unhurriedly slid a small piece of baked salmon into his mouth, chewing on it with pleasure, before he informed the Mediwitch, “The Dursleys currently find themselves in the form of a toad family. However, I was kind enough to leave the back door open, so they should be able to find enough to eat in the garden. If you look at Mr. Longbottom’s toad, freedom seems to be his greatest pleasure,” he smirked, causing Poppy to quickly fill Harry in about Neville and his toad.

Harry threw his guardians a questioning look, pondering, ‘Did he really change the Dursleys into toads or is he only joking?’

Poppy gave him the answer, pulling him out of his thoughts by saying, “Let’s hope they’ll already be away from their house and garden when you tell Albus about the matter and he goes to change them back, or did you already inform him?”

“No,” Severus smirked. “I came here straight away.”

Seeing that Harry was only playing with his food, Poppy stood up and led Harry into his own room, gently helping him into bed. Harry lay down, sighing in relief as he was able to relax under his covers, and looked around curiously. His room was held in white and blue. The walls were painted in white, and the furniture like the wardrobe, bed, bookshelf, desk, and chair were kept in different shades of blue. The comfortable four poster bed was surrounded by dark blue curtains with twinkling yellow stars on the blue ground. Next to the foot end of his bed was a door, of which Poppy explained that it led to a small bathroom, on the opposite to the door to Poppy’s living room was the door leading to Severus’ quarters, and on the wall above his bed was a huge magical window. It was fixed at a conveniently low height, so that Harry would be able to look through the window if he was sitting in his bed.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Poppy had used the time while he was distracted taking in the features of his new room to check on him and spell a few potions into his stomach. Seeing that the boy seemed to be through with his observations, she carefully tucked him in and bade him good night, before she spelled the fever reducer into his system, knowing that it would make Harry sleep within seconds.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

When Harry woke up in the morning, blazing sunshine was coming in through the large window next to his bed. ‘This is the most comfortable bed I ever slept in,’ Harry thought, feeling much better than during the previous days. Just when he began to consider, if he was allowed to get up and what he was supposed to do, Severus stepped into the room.

“Good morning, Harry. How are you feeling?” the Potions Master enquired in his soft silky voice.

“Good morning, sir. Much better,” Harry replied softly, smiling at the teacher as he sat down on the edge of his bed, pointing his wand at his head.

“Very well then; I suggest you get up, take a shower, and dress. If you’re ready, you can come to my quarters through the door over there. We can either have breakfast in my quarters or head to the Great Hall, depending on which you prefer. Poppy will be away for a few hours. She is looking after Professor Sprout, who came down with a bad case of the wizard’s flu.”

“All right sir,” Harry replied in a small voice, feeling a bit unsure since he had never taken a shower on his own.

“Is there anything you need help with?” Severus asked gently, noticing that Harry seemed to be uncertain about something. Seeing that the child blushed deeply, he sighed. “Harry, I know that you in spite of being eleven and a half years old only have the experience and the memories of an eight year old. Therefore, you may ask about anything you need help with. Poppy and I, and also Professor McGonagall, will always be willing to help you.”

“Thank you sir,” Harry replied gratefully, before he shyly averted his eyes.

Severus stepped over to the wardrobe, stopping dead in his tracks as he found nothing but school clothes. “Harry, don’t you have any normal clothes apart from your school clothes?”

“I have no idea,” Harry said anxiously. “My relatives always gave me Dudley’s old clothes to wear.”

“Very well then,” Severus decided, “we’re going to make a short trip to Hogsmeade this morning to buy proper clothes for you.” He waved his wand over the boy, transfiguring his pyjamas into black trousers and a green shirt, causing Harry to look down at himself in awe.

“Thank you sir, but I don’t have any money to buy clothes,” he gave back sadly, feeling very ashamed to have to admit such things in front of the teacher.

Severus sighed. “Harry, first of all, I’m your guardian and as such it is my responsibility to provide you with proper clothes. Secondly, you have a whole vault full of money, which your parents left for you. Now let’s have breakfast and be on our way. You can take a shower afterwards when you might need to warm up anyway.”

Harry hesitantly followed the teacher into his private quarters, looking around the living room in amazement. It was a circular room with huge wooden bookshelves that covered the walls. A sofa and several comfortable seats that were kept in a dark green were arranged around a large fireplace, and a huge magical window showed the lake and the Quidditch pitch for a while, before it displayed the empty Potions classroom. Consecutively, it changed to the view onto the street leading down to Hogsmeade. ‘This window is absolutely brilliant,’ Harry thought, before something at one side of the room captured his eyes. It was a small table with the pattern of a chess set, on which the chess pieces were always ready to be played with. ‘Wow, they look so real,’ he mused, observing the pieces with interest.

“This is a wizard’s chess set,” Severus informed him. “Do you know how to play chess?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, noticing that the charmed window just changed the view to the Great Hall, where he saw the other teachers have breakfast.

“I can teach you how to play,” Severus offered gently, causing Harry to nod excitedly.

“Yes please,” he breathed, looking longingly at the finely wrought wooden pieces.

“Very well then, let’s have breakfast,” Severus smirked, motioning Harry to follow him into his small kitchen, where he tapped the table with his wand twice, causing breakfast for two persons to appear on the table.

Harry couldn’t help gasping at the amount of food at the table. He cautiously took a dry piece of toast, hesitantly complying when the teacher instructed him to put butter and jam on it. “Excuse me sir, what is this juice? I like it very much, but I always wondered what it was,” he asked softly, pointing to his glass.

“It is pumpkin juice, Mr. Potter. All the students seem to like it,” Severus explained gently, watching in amusement as Harry took small sibs from his glass, obviously enjoying the delicious cool liquid. “Are you ready to leave?” he queried, seeing that Harry pushed his plate with his unfinished toast away.

“Yes sir,” Harry replied in a small voice. “I’m sorry, I can’t eat more.”

“All right then. Get your warm robes, and then we’ll leave,” Severus instructed Harry, who complied instantly, throwing the teacher a flabbergasted look when he told him to step into the fireplace.

“Into the fireplace, sir?” he queried in surprise, looking anxiously at the professor.

“Did you not notice people floo into Poppy’s office all the time?” Severus asked, raising an eyebrow at the child, causing Harry to blink sheepishly. “As long as the fire is green it won’t hurt you, and from a fireplace connected to the Floo network, you can travel to any other fireplace within the network. We’re going to floo to The Three Broomsticks, which is a pub in Hogsmeade, to spare you a twenty minutes walk down to the town. Since it is probably your first time to travel this way, I suggest that we step into the fireplace together.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed, glad that the teacher went into the fireplace first and pulled him close as soon as he followed. Instantly, they were engulfed in the green flames, and in front of Harry’s eyes the world began to turn around. ‘Oh this is horrible,’ he thought while they passed several fireplaces, before the movement finally stopped and they were thrown out of a large fireplace.

“Thank you Professor,” Harry said softly, grateful that his guardian steadied him until he was able to get a grip on himself and follow the teacher out of the pub. They stepped into the sunlight, finding themselves in a lively shopping street with interesting looking shops on both sides of the road.

“We’re now in the main street of Hogsmeade; however, since only students from the third year onwards are allowed to come to the town, this is probably your first visit here. The younger students only know the station of Hogsmeade,” Severus explained to Harry in a small voice as they crossed the street towards a huge clothes shop.

Harry, who had never been to a clothes shop before, was completely overwhelmed by the size of the shop and didn’t know where to look first. He curiously glanced around, startled when the professor asked him to select three jumpers from a clothes stand. Seeing that Harry was obviously unable to decide, Severus selected what he thought Harry would need, causing the child to blush seeing that he even chose pants and socks for him.

“Is there anything else you want?” Severus queried.

“No thank you, sir,” Harry replied, adding hesitantly, “sir, how am I going to pay for all these clothes?”

Severus sighed. “You could just tell them to take the money for your purchases out of the Potter vault; however, as I said today I am going to pay.” With that, he paid for everything, and Harry watched in amazement as the clerk shrunk the whole pile of clothes so that it fit into a small bag, which the professor handed him.

Back on the main street, Severus told Harry that he needed a few potions ingredients from the apothecary, and the two wizards walked further up the road, before two people suddenly crossed their way, stopping right in front of them.

“Good day, Severus,” a tall man with long blond hair and a cane greeted the professor.

“Hello Uncle Sev,” the boy, who looked as if he was about Harry’s age, said, before he turned his eyes to Harry, grudgingly acknowledging his presence as he spat, “Potter.”