Chapter 12 - Something isn't right - is it?

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Harry was almost asleep when Percy Weasley - a Gryffindor prefect and one of Ron's brothers - finally led the five new Gryffindor-boys into their dormitory, where five magnificent four-poster beds were waiting for them. Harry inwardly groaned when he realized that he was supposed to sleep in one of them. Why couldn't he get a nice, small, dark cupboard? He would be much more comfortable there. Shouldn't a school make sure the pupils were well-rested? After all, they had to attend all kind of classes every day! On the ward, it hadn't really mattered whether you could sleep or not, there hadn't been anything important you needed to do, after all. But in a school...?
The other boys, though seemed delighted and stormed towards their preferred beds. It took only a few moments for Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus to figure out that, apparently, it had already been decided which boy would sleep in which bed, their trunks and other belongings already put away in the respective wardrobes and bedside tables. It seemed that the bed at the far end of the room would be Harry's. Sighing, the boy made his was to his new sleeping place.
He didn't notice the odd looks three of the other boys were casting at him

"Ehm, well, good night, mate!" Ron, who had gotten the bed next to Harry's, said, unsure of what to made of the strange behaviour of the boy-who-lived. Harry didn't reply, though, and after a few rather awkward moments the other boy started to get ready for bed - it had been a very long day, and nobody wanted to oversleep on their first day of classes.

Harry, however, remained standing next to his bed, gazing into nothingness. It was only when the curtains that surrounded every single bed to allow the boys a minimum of privacy were closed that he snapped out of his daze. Quietly, because he wasn't sure how the other boy's would react if he made any noise, he went to the wardrobe next to his bed. Yes. All the things he had put in his suitcase back at Privet Drive were there. Who had brought them into the room, who had unpacked his stuff? He didn't like the thought of somebody else rummaging through is clothes and books. It was too reminiscent to the weekly searches conducted at the hospital.

But at least he was allowed to have all his things with him rather all of it being locked away, Harry thought. He grabbed a pair of pyjamas and quickly changed. Now came the bad part. He really, really didn't want to sleep in this bed! He would have nightmares, and who knew whether the teachers wouldn't do the same they had done in hospital, tying him up to the bed? No, he couldn't... he couldn't do this. But where else could he sleep? He was very tired, he needed a place to sleep. Perhaps he could wrap himself in the thick blanket that was lying on top of the bed and lie down in the corner? It seemed to be the most reasonable option, since the wardrobes were definitely too small for him to sleep in.

It turned out, though, that sleeping while leaning on a very cold and hard stone wall was impossible. After 10 or 15 minutes of shivering, Harry looked for another safe sleeping place. And found one when he noticed that in this dormitory, there was much more space between the floor and the underside of the fancy bed than there had been in Dudley's second bedroom. Additionally, the stone floor was covered with a thick, plush carpet, so he wouldn't get cold and could even sleep comfortably, something he hadn't been able to do since the Dursley's had thrown him out of his cupboard.

Happily, Harry made his was under his bed and was asleep in less than five minutes.

Some time during the night, Ron awoke and thought he heard a faint murmuring. It increased with time and just when the red-head decided that perhaps it would be better to make sure the other boy's were al right - Ron knew how nasty nightmares could be, having had quite a few ones himself after the incident with his teddy bear, the twins and the spider - he heard a rather loud bang and it was silent again. Well. He didn't know what had made the bang, but it was quiet now, so he didn't have to leave his warm, comfortable bed, did he? After all, if one if the other boy's had hurt himself he would have screamed or cried or at least sworn. And with that reassuring thought, Ron drifted of again.

The next morning brought about an alarming surprise for the four Gryffindor first-years that had slept in their beds rather than under them.
After Harry had not risen even when the other boys were making quite some noise, getting ready for school, Neville (who, in contrast to Harry, had been awoken by his noisy dorm-mates) suggested that perhaps they should wake Harry, since he might have forgotten to set his alarm clock, too. Ron approached Harry's bed, that's curtains had been drawn rather sloppily, and was shocked when he found it empty, and with the blanket missing.

"Eh, perhaps he has already gone down to breakfast?" Seamus suggested.

"Nah, we would have heard him leaving!", said Dean, "and why should he get up this early anyway? Perhaps he sneaked out during the night and got lost in the castle?"

Ron looked into the adjoining bathroom, and even checked the lavatory, but Harry wasn't there. "HARRY!" he called, after he had re-entered the room. Perhaps he was hiding somewhere? Suddenly, there was a rustling noise and the missing boy appeared from under his bed. The four other occupants of the dormitory stared at him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement, which quickly changed to shock, though, when they became aware of a nasty bump on Harry's forehead and traces of something that looked alarmingly like dried blood on his face.

"What happened to you, mate?" Ron asked, "Why were you under your bed? We have been searching for you, why didn't you come out? And what happened to your face?"

"Uh..." Harry wasn't really sure what to say. What was the matter with his face? And why had the other boys been searching for him? "I slept. I'm sorry, I didn't know it was time to get up."

"You slept? But you were under your bed!" One of the boys Harry didn't know asked.

"Yes. I slept. I don't like beds very much." Harry really didn't want to discus his sleeping-habits with all these boys. Surely they would laugh at him. Only cowardly freaks were afraid of sleeping in beds, after all.

"But what happened to your face?"

"What's wrong with my face?" Harry really got annoyed now. They should leave him alone! He didn't want to answer stupid questions! Everything was just fine!

"Uhm, it's all bloody..." Dean broke of, uncertain. This boy was weird - and no matter what everyone had told him about Harry Potter being the boy-who-lived and a hero and brave and all kind of other stuff, he didn't seem to be very nice. And he was funny, too. You just had to look at him, he was much smaller than everyone else and he constantly squinted and rolled his eyes and twitched and... well, he just was so different. "Well, I think I'll go down to the Great Hall. Breakfast has already started I think..." And with that, he left. Seamus followed him straight away and Neville, after an apologizing look at Ron and a frightened one at Harry, left, too.

"Uhm, mate - I think you better hurry up. ' don't think McGonagall will like it if we are late on our first full day! Eh, do you need help?"

Harry looked at him puzzled. Why should he need help? SURELY this boy wasn't going to watch him using the loo? "No. I'm fine." Harry replied.

The red-headed boy, however, made no move to follow the others out of the door. "Ok. I just wait for you then!" Ron didn't really know why he wanted to stay with the other boy - well, apart from that strange or not, he was Harry Potter -, but somehow he had decided he liked him, despite his odd behaviour.

###

It was only five minutes later when both boys - Harry's face now reasonably clean - hurried down to breakfast. They were lucky that a few of the older Gryffindors were late, too, otherwise it would have been impossible to find the Great Hall. Ron noticed the stares they - well, Harry - received from almost everyone else. And while this wasn't really surprising, Ron overheard some of the older pupils whispering about the boy-who-lived being strange and a group of Hufflepuffs even wondered whether he might be dangerous.

This annoyed Ron. How could they think of Harry being dangerous just because he might be somehow different?! Ron knew that being different was not the same as being dangerous, after all, he had witnessed many arguments between his parents - especially his mum - and his second-oldest brothers about his choice of career. His mum had rambled about why Charlie couldn't have chosen a normal job but had set on doing "a job only the craziest people - or half-giants - choose to do, breeding the most dangerous creature's wizards knew of!". Ron, however, admired Charlie for being brave enough to work with dragons. And Charlie wasn't dangerous, so why should the boy-who-lived be dangerous only because he wasn't like anybody else? Sure, sometimes Harry was kind of creepy, when he was mumbling to himself just like now, for example, but Ron was determined not to let Harry scare him away. Ron was a Gryffindor, too, after all!

Ron's determination was tested, though, when he saw Harry swallowing three big, with pieces of - well, of something Ron had no clue what it was. "Eh, mate, are you sure it was a good idea to eat these things?" He asked, doubtfully.

"I need to take my medicine. Do you now whether they have a doctor or a nurse in this place? My Aunt said I needed to hand over my medicine. And I need to get 'jections, too."

"'jections?"

"Injections. So that the demon can't get you. I need to get them by a nurse. Or a doctor."

"Demon...? But... well, there is Madame Pomfrey - she's the school nurse. Are you ill? Or is it because of your head?"

"Yes. I need to see the nurse. My Aunt and Dr Green will be very mad if I don't hand over my medicine and get my 'jections."

"Uh, perhaps you should ask Professor McGonagall? - Our head of house," Ron added, after a quizzically look from Harry. Apparently, the other boy was very bad with names. "She'll show you the hospital wing if you're ill. Uhm, perhaps I should come with you?"

They were interrupted (though Ron wasn't even sure whether Harry would have answered anyway) by the very Professor they had just talked about, handing out timetables.

"Mr Weasley, Mr Potter - Your timeta-... Mr Potter, what have you done to your head?!" The stern witch demanded, having noticed the big red bump on the boy's forehead, and even a few spots of red that looked suspiciously like blood.

"I'm sorry, Professor!" Harry said, alarmed by the fierce expression on the witch's face. He hoped she wouldn't send him back to hospital right away. He knew he had to fight the demon, but at some point during the night, he hadn't managed to react quickly enough and the demon had smashed his head against the underside of the bed before Harry could do anything. "Uhm, I need to see the nurse, well, because..." He added, unsure, only to be interrupted by the professor.

"Yes, Mr Potter, this is obvious. Now, are you finished with breakfast? - All right, then let's go, you might even be in time for classes if we hurry up. No Mr Weasley, there is no need for you accompanying Mr Potter, he will join you shortly!"

Madame Pomfrey was surprised when her first patient came in before classes had even started.

"Ah, Minerva! What can I do for you? Oh, and you are...?"

"Poppy, Mr Potter here has injured himself. I trust -" But the Transfiguration Professor was interrupted by the small child next to her.

"I need to give you this!" Harry said, and handed a very thick envelope to the surprised nurse.

"Uh- what IS this, Mr Potter? And what has happened to your head? Minerva, what's the meaning of this?"

"I don't know - Mr Potter, what's in this envelope? If this is some kind of prank you will be in trouble, so you better -"

"My Aunt and Dr Green said I should give you this," Harry addressed the nurse. He didn't like all these people asking what was wrong with his head. Could they somehow see that he was crazy? Perhaps they could read his mind... or see through his skull? He shuddered. "It's my medicine. Dr Green has written a letter, so that you know what I have to take. And I have to get injections every week. Dr Green said he had written everything in the letter so that you know what you are supposed to give me. He said Aunt Petunia should make sure that you got the letter and the medicine, but Aunt Petunia said that she wouldn't talk to freaks - well, she didn't tell Dr Green, she would never say something like this to my Doctor, you know, he isn't supposed to know that there are others like me, she only said it after we were back at Privet Drive - well, and gave me everything and told me what to say."

Harry's statement was met with silence. The professor and the nurse gaped at the boy. What the hell was he talking about?!

"Ehm, can I go to classes?" He asked, unsure because of the strange looks he got from the two witches.

"No Mr Potter, certainly not... what has happened to your head? How did you get this bump? And what is this about?" Madame Pomfrey asked, raising the envelope.

"Uh, nothing. Everything's fine. Really! Please, don't... I just want to go to classes, please! Promise I'm good! I will fight harder, I promise! You can even give me additional medicine if you want to, but I really want to go to classes! I haven't been in school for ages, please, and I don't want to miss the first day!"

"Mr Potter, stop this babbling!" Professor McGonagall groaned inwardly. This would be a very long day, and it was only September 2nd . "Madame Pomfrey need to heal your head and then you have to explain what is going on! Perhaps I should call for Albus... perhaps he knows what's going on here. Old coot, never telling anyone about his little schemes..." The last bit was said more to herself than to one of the other two currently present.

"Well, for now I need to heal your head, Mr Potter. We can talk later about everything else. So if you would sit on this bed?"

"But there is really nothing wrong with my head..."

"Yes, I can see this," the nurse added sarcastically. What was the matter with the boy? Was he afraid of being healed magically? Or did he want to appear brave and tough by not admitting that he was hurt? Gryffindors... "Mr Potter, I can assure you it won't hurt a bit, and nobody need to know about this. If you would just sit down, everything will be over in a minute and you can join your classmates."

"NO! I won't sit on this bed! You want to trick me, I know it, but I'm not stupid!" Harry's voice got louder and louder.

"Mr Potter there is no need to scream. If you doesn't want to sit on the bed you can just sit on one of the chairs over there. But you will sit down. I won't risk you getting dizzy because of the magic and fall down, injuring yourself even more!"

Harry was confused. Would they tie him to the chair instead of the bed? And why did these people make such a fuss about a little bump? Even the nurses on the ward hadn't bothered to call a doctor or do anything more than admonish him and make a note in his file when he had woken up with a little bump. Well, at first they had, but this had long since stopped. But perhaps these people were different?
While he was still contemplating whether it was wise to sit down or if it might be more reasonable to run, the nurse sighed, took one of the chairs and put it directly behind Harry. Nonplussed, Harry sat down. What the hell...?

"Now, Mr Potter, if you would just sit still for a moment..." Said the nurse, raising her sti- eh wand. Harry flinched. Was she going to hit him?! But no, she just made a funny movement and suddenly, he felt his forehead tingling. It didn't hurt, but it certainly felt funny.

"Ok, Mr Potter, do you still feel any pain?"

Harry shook his head in the negative. He hadn't felt pain even before the nurse had made his head tingle. "Can I go now? I took my medicine with breakfast! Shall I come to see you at lunch? Or will you come to the Great Hall to hand out the pills? And when shall I come to get my first 'jection? Dr Green always gave me one on Monday and the other one on Thursday..."

"What do you mean, medicine? Are you ill, Mr Potter?" Madame Pomfrey, being a half-blood and raised in the wizarding world, never had much contact with muggles, but as a school nurse, she knew very well what "medicine" was. Some muggleborns preferred them over potions, at least until they had experienced how far more effective some potions were, even if they tasted horribly.

"Uh, yes. They've all said so, anyway. I don't really know whether I'm ill or the demon is ill, though... but it doesn't really matter, because the demon is in my head. So I have to take medicine. If I don't take my medicine, I'll get worse. Yes, my Aunt always says that she couldn't handle me if I didn't take medicine. So when shall I come to get my injections?"

"Mr Potter, are you telling me that you have to take medicine on a regular basis?"

"Yes. I have to take three different pills in the morning, two at lunch, three in the evening and another one directly before I go to sleep. I'm not supposed to take this one early, because it makes me really really tired. And then I have to get injections-"

"But... you can't take all this stuff! You are only a little boy, surely it must be unhealthy?! No, Mr Potter, I can't just give you all this po- eh, medicine, and I don't think it would even be necessary, you look very healthy to me. Perhaps a bit undernourished, yes, but this can be helped by a simple potion that is far more effective than all this medicine. Now, perhaps you could explain why the muggles thought that you should take all this substances? Is this some kind of new fashion? Surely even muggles must realize that-" but the medi-witch was interrupted by a rather angry Harry.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS! I HAVE TO TAKE MY MEDICINE! You just want to get me back to hospital because I'm too freaky even for your school! But I won't go, no, and you NEED to give me the medicine! You can't let the demon get me! And my Aunt will blame me for stopping taking the pills, and Uncle Vernon said that I'm not allowed to come back to Privet Drive if I didn't take the medicine! Please, I don't want to go back to hospital! I promise I won't do anything bad but please! I-"

"MR POTTER STOP THIS SCREAMING! I can assure you I have no intention to send you to a hospital, but you can't be serious, taking all this stuff! I'm a school nurse, I'm supposed to heal patients, not to drug them constantly!"

"BUT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, THE DEMON WILL GET ME IF I DON'T TAKE MY MEDICINE! AND THEN THEY WILL LOCK ME UP AGAIN AND TIE ME TO A BED! AND DR GREEN WILL BE SOOOOO MAD! He says it's really, really important that I take my medicine regularly, and he is a doctor, he knows these kind of things! He says that it'll get worse if I don't take it, please, I don't want the demon to kill me!" Harry was sobbing by now. Why didn't these people understand?

"Calm yourself, Mr Potter, and stop this babbling! Nobody will lock you up! Now, perhaps it would be the best if you would go to classes - if you feel able to? - and I will... discuss this with the headmaster. Minerva?"

The transfiguration professor was, by now, completely confused. A screaming and sobbing Harry Potter, who had, apparently, taken some kind of potions that weren't very healthy - or were they - on a regular basis? What was the matter with this child? Had the muggles something to do with everything? Had they tried to poison Harry? Minerva remembered the fat lump and the annoying woman that Albus had decided would be the right guardians for little Harry Potter. Well, perhaps they were, the boy was alive, after all... but what if they had done something horrible to him? Perhaps these - eh, mesin? - were some sort of slow-acting venom? Perhaps this was the reason Harry behaved so strangely? "Eh, well, ok, I will bring Harry to his first class- yes, he'll only be a few minutes late, I'm sure Filius won't mind. Then - eh, perhaps we should arrange a meeting with Albus?"

"Yes yes," Poppy, who had begun to rummage through the envelope and was even now unfolding a sheet of paper, absent-mindedly said, "I think I'll ask Severus about this... this medicine. I don't really know very much about this kind of drugs... affecting the mind... oh my... no, they can't be serious..."

"Eh, ok, Mr Potter, if you would follow me." Professor McGonagall turned around and marched through the infirmary door. It was only a few seconds later when she noticed that the boy wasn't behind her but still standing in the infirmary.

"Mr Potter, I believe I have said you should follow me. I will bring you to your first lesson, as I don't think you would be able to find the way on your own, the castle can be a bit overwhelming during the first few weeks."

"But...but... but I NEED my medicine! You can't just- you have to promise! You have to promise to give them to me! Please please please please... you can't just... YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME MY MEDICINE! I WON'T LET YOU LOCK ME UP AGAIN ONLY BECAUSE YOU ARE TOO STUPID TO GIVE ME THE PILLS!"

"IT'S ENOUGH NOW, MR POTTER!" Professor McGonagall just wished the child would stop screaming. It didn't make sense! Why would he willingly swallow poisonous substances? She didn't even register that the hero of the wizarding world had just called her 'stupid',"You will follow me now, no argument! Madame Pomfrey will sort this out-"

"BUT-"

"- and give you your me- mecin once she had made sure it is safe to do so!"

"You mean I get my stuff?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, you'll get it once we have made sure that, ehm, that everything is all right with it." Well, it wasn't really a lie, Minerva consoled herself. If these things were harmless, there was no reason to deny him taking them, wasn't there?

"Oh. Ok. I'm sorry. ' didn't mean to...uuuh...nonono, stupid stupid freak! ... Now... I can go to classes?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, that's what I have trying to make you do during the last five minutes. Now follow me. Poppy- ehm, I trust you have everything under control?"

"What? Eh, yes, of course. I'll floo Severus. Yes. This can't be right-"

"I get my medicine?"

"Yes, yes..." It was clear that the medi-witch wasn't really listening.

"Ok, I'll join you later!" Minerva said, and before anything the medi-witch might say could lead to another outburst from the boy currently glancing back and forth between the two witches, she motioned Harry to leave the room.

Poppy, meanwhile, resolutely walked to the fireplace next to her office, took a handful of the silvery powder out of a cup on the mantelpiece and tossed it into the fireplace. Immediately, green flames erupted from the grate. Perhaps it was fortunately that Harry was already gone, because Merlin knew how he might have reacted to the medi-witch sticking her head into the fire, shouting "Severus Snape's quarters!"

The potion master had just enjoyed the last few minutes before the first lesson of the school year - 5th years Gryffindors and Ravenclaws - would start when he heard his floo going off. He was surprised when he saw Poppy's head. Had a Slytherin fallen ill? Or had Minerva's brats decided so start the war early? Normally, the first fights between Gryffindor and Slytherins only happened after school was in session for at least a few days.

"Severus?"

"Yes? What's the matter? I hope there hasn't already occurred the first major drama?" He growled. Just what he wanted. Spending his last dunderhead-free minutes arguing with Poppy - or more likely, Minerva - about who had attacked whom.

"Eh, Severus, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'd require your assistance with - eh, some rather funny business. You see, one of the new students - muggle-raised - has just brought me an alarming amount of potions - eh, I mean, muggle-medicine - and told me he was supposed to take this stuff regularly. I'm not sure about everything, and perhaps you could have a look at it? I don't think it's ordinary medicine, I have never heard of it before... " Poppy was smart enough to realize that it would not be wise to reveal that the student in question was the son of one of the boys Severus had been tormented by during his own school-days.

"Sure." As if he had any other option, really. "Does this matter need immediate attention or would it be suffice if I came after lunch? Not that I would prefer teaching a bunch of dunderheads over doing something that might at least be useful, but I suppose Albus wouldn't agree..."

"No no, it's quite all right if you could join me after lunch."

"A pity."

###

And so it was that, after a quick lunch, Severus Snape strode towards the infirmary, hoping that it wouldn't already be occupied by homesick first-years. It seemed he was lucky, though, because the hospital wing was completely empty. Well, besides Poppy, who was doing paperwork in her office.

"Ah, Severus! Thank you for your assistance! Now, this-" Poppy indicated at a rather large accumulation of muggle-pills on a table beside her, "I have received all of it from one of the new first-years. He seemed to be of the opinion that he was supposed to take at least six pills each day, well, and got very upset when I denied his request. Minerva - it's a Gyffindor and Minerva had brought him to see me because he had somehow acquired a nasty bump during the night - managed to calm him down, but it seems that he has taken this stuff for quite some time already. I have looked into it, and it doesn't seem to be normal medicine at all. I have never heard of most of it, only this one" - she motioned towards some of the blister packs, "it's Valium. It's quite a strong sedative, I don't think I've ever heard of a student who had to take it before. But all the other stuff..."

When the medi-witched mentioned that the child in question had been accompanied to the infirmary by the head of Gryffindor because of a bump, Severus groaned inwardly. Potter. He had seen very well the blue and red lump on the brat's forehead and Minerva making him join her to who-know-where. "It's Potter's medicine, isn't it?" He asked, hoping for small mercies.

"Eh- yes. How do you know?" Poppy asked, surprised and a bit embarrassed at being caught omitting this particular detail.

"I saw the brat in the morning." Severus bit back. Wonderful. Just when he had finally convinced himself that there was nothing wrong with the little miscreant and that the incident during the boy's sorting had just been some sort of accident or maybe coincident. But no, apparently there was indeed something wrong with this brat.

"Well, let me have a look at this shi-" Better to get it over with quickly.

"Severus Snape! There is no reason to be vulgar!"

"Hmpf" He didn't deign to respond to this. Instead, he went to the table and took a closer look at the different blister packs and ampoules. Why did the brat had to get injections?

"Did the brat give any explanation as to why he should have to take all this stuff?"

"No, ehm, well, there was a letter... it was with all this medicine, it states how much Harry is supposed to take of the different kind of pills, and when he has to get injections - imagine, pricking a mere child with a needle two time a week! This is just cruel! - well, and there are some funny sounding words and figures that don't really make any sense to me... perhaps something mugglish?" The medi-witch handed the potion professor the letter and the man quickly read it.

There wasn't much information. Apparently, the author of this peculiar letter had imagined that whoever read it would be familiar with the issue. A few words caught his eyes. Schizophrenia... Psychosis... he had heard of those. He didn't really know where, though. He wasn't even sure it had been during the perusal of a muggle book or whether wizards, well, at least some healers, were familiar with it, too.
He did read muggle-books, quite frequently, to be honest. Severus might have once been a follower of he-who-must-not-be-named, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that muggles probably had accomplished more during the last two centuries than wizards had. Hell, most wizards didn't even know that it had been muggles, not wizards, that travelled to the moon! Or that it had been muggles who invented methods to kill not one or two or even ten, but tens of thousands of human beings with one single strike.

But be it as it may, it seemed that he had some research to do. Someone had to find out what this psychosis-stuff were, and whether it was dangerous. If it required a child to take pills each day. And since it wasn't likely that anybody else in this school would know something about these matters, not with the headmaster's knowledge of muggles limited to the London Underground, the latest news about attacks, murders and funny accidents and, of course, the newest candies, this someone would likely be Severus himself. At least, he had a basic knowledge of how to dress properly as a muggle and, more importantly, about muggle-medicine.
His eyes then fell on what appeared to be the names of the medication currently lying on the table in front of him, the dosages and the number of times Potter had to take it. Valium. Poppy had mentioned this, but Severus had never heard of it before. Well, something else to find out. Phenergan and Leponex . He didn't know either of those, but the names sounded somehow... creepy. The last name, however, stirred something in the potion masters mind. Halolperidol. He wasn't really sure, but it might be possible that there had been an article about this substance - or a similar one? - in Potions Monthly. He would need to have a look.

It was the note at the bottom of the letter that bothered Severus the most, though. Why should the child need regular blood tests?! Blood wasn't something to mess with, the potion master had learned this very early during his studies. The reason was simple: While any part of tissue of a human body could be used for potions like Polyjuice, blood was a completely different matter. It wasn't even possible to use blood to make Polyjuice work, not if you wanted to become yourself again, at least. Oh, blood didn't make Polyjuice permanent, no. But it messed with your body, with your brain and with your very magic. It was very well possible to die or to become a permanent resident on the Janus Thickey Ward if you were stupid enough to try it.
But potions weren't the only field blood could be used - or misused. He involuntary shuddered when he thought back to the things the Dark Lord had done using blood of willing (or unwilling) donors.

"Well? What do you think?"

Severus startled. He had completely forgotten that he was still in Poppy's office. "I need to do some research. I don't know... I think I have heard some of these things the letter mentions, but I'm not sure. Do you know anything else?"

"No... apart from this Valium-stuff I have never heard of anything in this letter. And I only know that Valium is some sort of very strong sedative. Not something you would give to a child, least of all regularly! This... it just can't be right. Perhaps I'm mistaken. Perhaps there is some other substance with the same name..." She sounded doubtfully.

"And about these blood tests?! Surely they can't mean taking blood from the boy on a regular basis?!" Severus was outraged.

Madame Pomfrey expression softened. "It's quite common with muggles, Severus. They really don't have many other means to detect certain illnesses. I know-"

"But- but BLOOD! They can't do this! It's madness!"

"I don't think muggles are able to do much more with blood than to test it for illnesses or certain substances, Severus. I think this is what they have done - tested Harry's blood because of the medicine they gave him."

"So you don't think they... they used Potter in some sort of... of ritual?" Severus asked, quietly.

"No, Severus. I don't think they have harmed the boy... not knowingly, at least. But I can't help..." there was a distinct pause. "I have been medi-witch in this school for almost 20 years. And I have never seen something like this."