As Kagan, her patient and his bed, and the man who had called her to Harry’s side, all landed in the large, bright, and scrupulously clean room lined with empty beds, Kagan Lorrie didn’t take time to look around further. It was obvious they’d been portkeyed out of one hospital and into another.
Her patient had just been shaken hard by his own guardian. Freshly out of surgery, the child’s body tissues were swollen and tender. The abuse at the hands of his uncle could be catastrophic. As the gentleman who’d brought them here ran off calling for someone named “Poppy”, Kagan’s attention focused on the child in her care. She checked Harry over as well as she could without her equipment. A quick search for a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope proved unfruitful. Kagan really didn't need more than her eyes and hands, though, to know that Harry was bleeding inside his gut. That uncle of his had likely torn out his stitches. It was maddening. How could this happen? This boy was abused by his uncle, and whether that had been going on his whole life or not, she didn't know, but she vowed he’d never return to that family.
This appeared to be a magical hospital. There were beds, but no equipment, not even the standard oxygen hookups in the pale blue walls. No basic medical supplies were evident, but there were cabinets along the walls containing all manner of fancy bottles. Potions, then. This was definitely a magical facility.
The doors swung open and the gentleman who'd run off was now racing back in, alongside a kind but severe-looking woman. They immediately raced to Harry’s side.
As Kagan watched, the Mediwitch pulled out her wand and began to scan Harry, spells weaving through air. She turned to the gentleman. He was a wizard who looked somewhat older than he probably was. His clothing was immaculate, but obviously well worn. His greying light brown hair was clean and well kept. He smiled sadly at her. The long scar on his face did not detract from his appearance. There was a mystery behind this man, a mystery that appeared to haunt him.
"I'm Remus Lupin, a close friend of Harry's. His father and I were friends when we were young. We met here at Hogwarts, in fact. I'm terribly sorry; I didn't have time to even warn you before whisking you away. I didn't mean to drag you along.
“This is Hogwarts, a boarding school that young Harry attends. And this is Madam Poppy Pomfrey, she's a doctor. I was so desperate to get him to someone who could stop any internal damage quickly, that I didn’t stop to prepare you. In this place, they can deal with Harry’s injuries more quickly, and that seemed the best option at the moment. You must have a million questions."
The soft-spoken man had the most expressive, gentle eyes. He appeared genuinely apologetic and Kagan hastened to reassure him. "Please don't worry that you've inconvenienced me in any way or given away any secrets. Harry’s life is all that matters right now. My name is Dr. Kagan Lorrie. I'm a surgeon at the London Centre for Healing. I'm also a Witch. I had planned to get Harry to a magical facility because I knew more could be done with magic than I could do with Muggle medicine. I just didn't want it to happen under these circumstances. That family of his is certainly something, have you met them?” She turned back to Harry, whose breathing had ragged, and murmured, “Do you think she can help him?"
Lupin sighed in relief upon learning that he had not inadvertently exposed the Magical world to a Muggle, but his face quickly became troubled again as he, too, turned his attention back to Harry. It was clear he held a deep concern for this boy. She was glad to see that someone cared for him because his relatives, the ones charged with his care, most definitely did not.
“If anyone can, it’ll be Poppy,” he said. “She has a lot experience with fixing the things young witches and wizards can get up to.”
They both stood by quietly, awaiting the results of the Mediwitch's evaluation, waiting to help in any way they could.
Madam Pomfrey was incanting a series of spells that barely made sense to Kagan, who used magic in a less structured way. She then called out several Accios while flipping her wand toward one of the potions supply cabinets. Kagan recognized some of the names of the potions, including Blood Restorer and Skelegrow. There was also one called Pain Relief, which, like most Magical things, was named quite simply and appropriately.
As Madam Pomfrey capably began spelling healing potions into her patient, Kagan was distracted by the appearance of a very tall, very old man who swept into the room as if he were a spry young man. He had a silver beard so long it could have been tucked into his belt. Indeed, he was tucking it into his belt as he approached their patient’s bed. The look on his face was one of deep concern. This was another man who obviously cared for this boy. What was going on here? If so many loved him, why was he living with people who clearly did not?
This Wizard was fascinating. He wore bright emerald robes with planets and stars on the lining, cuffs and hems. His tall, pointed hat matched his robes. His blue eyes held a deep intelligence as he looked to Mr. Lupin, silently requesting information.
Lupin introduced him as Professor Albus Dumbledore. Kagan’s eyes widened. So this was Albus Dumbledore. Everyone knew Dumbledore, of course, or at least knew of him. He was mentioned in nearly every edition of the Daily Prophet. Of course he’d be interested in the welfare of the famed Harry Potter. How silly of her not to have put together the name Hogwarts with Dumbledore.
While Lupin brought the man up to date on Harry’s troubles, Madam Pomfrey finished administering the potions she’d accio’d.
Then the most fascinating things began to happen. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore began a delicate tandem act of weaving intricate magical combinations of wand movements and whispered incantations over Harry's young, still body. Almost immediately, Harry's color brightened and his breathing, previously labored, was calming into a slow, steady rhythm. This was why she was anxious to bring the child to a place such as this. Muggle medicine could not compare to what a magical healer could do for a witch or wizard. The healers' magic worked with spells and potions and the patient’s own magic to facilitate healing.
When Harry was at last resting quietly, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore turned to Kagan and Mr. Lupin, who were standing back from Harry's bed, watching intently.
"Dr. Lorrie," Professor Dumbledore extended his hand and took Dr. Lorrie's in his, "it is indeed a pleasure to meet you, although I wish the circumstances were less dire," Professor Dumbledore began.
Just as Professor Dumbledore began to speak, Kagan and Lupin noticed that something was going very wrong with Harry. He was turning blue and appeared to be struggling to breathe. As they simultaneously shouted "Harry!", Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were already rushing back to his side, apparently alerted by the expressions on their faces before they could even utter the child's name.
"It's an allergic reaction!” Poppy shouted. “Accio Allergy Relief Potion!" She grabbed the potion out of the air and immediately spelled it into Harry. His face was now ashen. His throat had swollen shut. He’d stopped breathing and the potion didn’t appear to be helping. Why wasn’t it working?
"Why isn’t it helping? Is there nothing else Magical you can do?" Kagan demanded, her mind snapping into focus as she thought about the Muggle options available to the boy.
"We don't know what caused it yet," Madam Pomfrey answered between frantic incantations, as she once again shot spells at the boy. Dumbledore had stepped back to allow the Mediwitch to continue, apparently out of his league. Brilliant though the man was, he rightly bowed to the expert when the situation demanded. But nothing Pomfrey was doing was improving Harry’s condition. “Any more potions we administer other than the rather benign Allergy Relief Potion could do more harm than good. Spells aren’t opening his airway. The allergy is extreme. Is there anything you can do for him?” She looked rather desperately at Kagan.
Kagan nodded. It was her turn now. "I need a small tube, a sanitized tubular part of a quill will do. Quickly please!" Professor Dumbledore immediately conjured a quill and hit it with a sanitizing spell. "I also need a small, sharp, sterile scalpel, or a knife, something, stat!" This time Madam Pomfrey supplied the necessary item from the supply cabinet. She was quick, thankfully. "And some tape, please," the young doctor finished.
Kagan leaned over Harry and made a small incision in the child's neck between the tiroid and the cricoid cartilages. As she inserted the tube into the incision, she stopped a moment and waited. Harry's color began to return. He was now breathing through the tube. He was out of danger. She'd bought him time.
After efficiently taping the quill in place, she turned to the others in the room. "What could it have been? This can stay in for now, but it's only a temporary solution. I hope we can reverse the effects of the allergy and allow this hole to heal."
Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey properly introduced themselves to Dr. Lorrie and thanked her for saving Harry today, and for performing surgery on him a few days before. “I don’t yet know what he’s allergic to. As you can see, I gave him quite a few potions,” Madam Pomfrey answered Kagan’s question of a moment before. “The ingredients are many and varied, or course. We’ll have to isolate the allergen.”
Kagan nodded. It was clear they had to figure this out so it never happened again and so they could reverse the tracheotomy. A permanent trach for such a young and vital boy was out of the question when they had magic at their disposal.
"We have an excellent Potions Master here at Hogwarts," the Headmaster began as he strode to the fireplace, and tossed in some floo powder. "Snape's quarters!" he called into the floo. After a quiet conversation that Kagan didn't quite catch, a tall, dark-haired man came through the fireplace. He appeared to be angry, possibly at being disturbed. His long strides matched the Headmaster's as they approached the ailing teen.
"Naturally, it would be Potter," he spat.
Well, right away Kagan could tell she wasn't going to like this man. It appeared that even among these others who obviously cared for the child, Harry had another nemesis, as if he needed one.
"What potions were administered?" demanded this arrogant man.
Madam Pomfrey rattled off the long list of potions she'd spelled into their patient minutes before. If this man was as good at Potions as the Headmaster claimed, this would be the way they would find what had caused Harry's throat to swell shut. The poor boy’s skin was now erupting in hives. This had to be countered quickly.
It didn't take long for the Potions Master and Mediwitch to zero in on one potion by comparing a list of potions Harry had taken on previous visits to the hospital wing, and the ones he had been given today. The one called "Blood Restorer" was the only one he'd never been given before. The Potions Master seemed to go very pale at this discovery, and for him, that was saying something. His skin was already so sallow that losing more colour was quite a feat. He actually appeared almost ready to faint. Kagan took a step toward him, but surely she was mistaken. This dark, dangerous-looking man was no wilting flower to fall over at the thought that a student he clearly disliked could have ingested something dangerous.
But could it be that dangerous a potion? Surely they wouldn't have it here to administer to children if it were. Now the Mediwitch and Potions Master were doing some sort of testing on Harry. Professor Dumbledore stepped over to explain.
"They're testing him with the potions he's received before to see if he's developed an allergy to them since he last ingested them. If the tests come out negative, the Blood Restorer can safely be believed to be the likely culprit. If that turns out to be the case, then I think we can safely administer a bezoar to counteract the ingredient that is toxic to his system. A bezoar can be used against most poisons, but there are some that react adversely to it. I do not believe anything in the Blood Restorer would react adversely to the stone.
“Bezoars can be so useful, as I'm sure you know. Why I recall one case where a beautiful young Witch was being courted by a perfectly healthy young Wizard. One afternoon, she made him a pot of Safflower tea, at which point he began bleeding profusely from every orifice. The young Witch was beside herself; her suitor was dying at her hand. She immediately ran outside, butchered one of the family goats, took a stone from its stomach, and forced it down her Wizard friend's throat. She saved his life. They naturally married and live happily together on a very large goat farm somewhere just south here of with a passel of children and an even bigger passel of grandchildren.
“Ahh, I believe we have success with young Harry!"
While Kagan stood mentally shaking her head at Professor Dumbledore, Lupin smiled fondly at the man. She realized he must have been attempting to calm everyone by drawing attention to himself while the Mediwitch and Potions Master spelled the stone into Harry’s stomach. Madam Pomfrey had made short work of the hole in Harry's neck and he was once again breathing normally and sleeping peacefully.
"Severus, Poppy, what do you suppose caused the reaction?"
"It was 'Astragalus', Headmaster,” Snape replied.
Professor Dumbledore's eyes flashed something Kagan could not recognize, but it was gone as soon as it appeared, leaving her to wonder if she'd seen it at all.
Snape said, "It appears Potter is severely allergic to the leaves of the Astragalus plant. Now if you do not need me for anything else, I believe I will return to my quarters where I have several important potions approaching critical stages."
"Of course, Severus, of course. But before you go may I introduce you to Dr. Kagan Lorrie? She is a surgeon who operated on Harry earlier this week. It appears he was in the family automobile when there was a terrible accident. Our Mr. Potter was in bad shape, but Dr. Lorrie fixed him right up. Unfortunately, there was another incident after that, necessitating a visit to our dear Madam Pomfrey.”
As Professor Dumbledore introduced Professor Severus Snape and Dr. Kagan Lorrie, the Potions Master's eyes briefly met hers and he murmured a "Pleased to meet you, Ma'am". He nodded at Lupin. "Lupin." He turned to glance once more at Harry, then turned on his heal and stalked from the room, apparently having decided to walk back to his quarters rather than floo. What a thoroughly unpleasant man, Kagan thought.
) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (
Hogwarts? Oh, right, Uncle Vernon, Professor Lupin. Harry felt like he was rising to the surface from deep underwater. How in the world did he get here? The last thing he remembered was Uncle Vernon... well, it was really good that Professor Lupin came so quickly. Harry's thoughts rapidly cycled as he assessed his situation. He attempted to sit up to ask for some help, but all he could manage was a low groan. It was enough to get everyone's attention.
"Harry, my dear boy, how are you feeling?" That was Professor Dumbledore. Harry smiled, glad to hear the Headmaster's voice again. He didn't seem to be mad that Harry was back at Hogwarts so soon. It wasn't even the end of June yet and Harry was already away from his relatives. Of course, the Headmaster could make him go back, but Harry hoped that wouldn't happen. Dumbledore conjured a chair and sat beside Harry, taking his left hand in his own and holding it gently.
Dr. Lorrie and Professor Lupin stood on Harry's other side. "Harry, do you remember me? I'm Dr. Lorrie, from the Centre for Healing. How are you feeling?"
"Harry, I'm so sorry I didn't get to you sooner,” Professor Lupin jumped in. “I could have prevented your uncle from hurting you had I been but a moment quicker. How are you, really?" Lupin's kind eyes were crinkled with worry.
"I'm fine, Sir, just a little sore.” Lupin smiled his sad smile in reply. “And I'm sure you came as fast as you could, it's not your fault. It's just the way my uncle is, he can't help it. And of course I remember you, Dr. Lorrie. It's really great of you to come to Hogwarts to help me.”
Madam Pomfrey walked out of her office just then and shooed everyone back from Harry's bed. She scanned him again, which tickled Harry's skin and made him smile. He truly loved magic.
"Well, Mr. Potter, you've had quite a time these last few days, haven't you? But you're going to be fine. Your abdomen is healing quickly; your head wound is nearly gone. Your arm and leg will take a bit longer to heal because Skelegrow works best if administered within an hour or so of the break, and you didn’t come to me in time for that. You'll have to exercise to get them back into working shape once the bones heal. But as it's the summer holidays, I'm sure you'll manage just fine." Madam Pomfrey was more forthcoming than usual. Maybe she was less stressed during the holidays.
Harry nodded and thanked Madam Pomfrey, who smiled and ordered him to sleep for a few hours, promising to wake him when his dinner tray arrived.
Dr. Lorrie and Remus Lupin settled into chairs beside Harry’s bed while the headmaster ruffled his hair and promised to return that evening to chat. It wasn’t easy to fall asleep while two people sat watching you, but they seemed to sense his problem and turned to each other to talk quietly between themselves. Harry’s body had gone through so much that it demanded sleep and he was in condition to argue.
) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( ( (
Just as Snape expected, Professor Dumbledore came knocking at the door to his quarters within minutes. The Headmaster was too sharp to miss the implications of what had happened in the hospital wing, and he was too involved to let it go unresolved.
"Severus?"
The Potions Master looked up from his snifter of fine brandy that was not nearly strong enough to deaden the fears that were churning in his gut. Albus held out a tube of blood. Undoubtedly Potter's blood. Oh, no, the man did not miss a thing.
"Albus, it cannot be true. Surely you know that."
"Cannot, Severus? Is it physically impossible?" The Headmaster’s voice was gentle, understanding, and yet probing.
Snape sighed. The problem was, it was not physically impossible. It should have been but there was one night, one night during which the past had been left in the past, and two who had loved each other for so many years had allowed themselves to unite in passion. It had been a beautiful night, a last gift before the sweet Lily returned to her betrothed, James Potter.
He had known before anything happened, before the sweetest night of Severus' life had even truly commenced, that it would never go beyond that night. He had had no illusions. One sweet night would have to last for a lifetime.
And so far it had. So far there had been no regrets. It was a night he had thought to cherish until the day he died. Was it now coming back to haunt him?
He reached for the tiny bottle. Severus Snape was not a man to push aside an unpleasant task. He faced life head on and dealt with what he must. And now he had to find out the truth.
Astragalus. A plant that had once nearly killed Severus had now nearly killed Potter. It was a rare allergy, very rare. It showed up now and then in the Prince family, but Severus had never heard of anyone outside the family having an allergy to the leaves of the Astragalus plant. Until now. Hopefully now.
And so Albus had put one and one together and come up with baby, and he wasn’t one to leave well enough alone.
Never, never in all these years had Severus considered that Lily's child might have come from his own seed. It would take a few hours to brew the potion that would reveal the truth. Yes, he would brew the potion. Yes, he would get back to the Headmaster with the answer.
Yes, he was fine. Yes, yes, yes.
The door shut quietly behind Albus.
Severus stepped into a room off his bright and roomy kitchen. It wasn’t a large room. He did most of his brewing in the potions classroom at the head table. There was a lab table that ran down the middle and his best cauldrons and equipment lined the table and walls.
There was one large window that looked out onto his private courtyard. He liked light in his quarters, which would confuse any visitors as his classroom and office were much more foreboding, and all three were in the dungeons. Home was separate, though. Home was where he went when he sought comfort and light. And so the castle’s innate magic was used to provide him with windows and an exit onto level ground.
He pulled out his copper cauldron and a glass stirring rod, shaking slightly as he placed them on the table. He then pulled some ingredients from his shelves, lit the burner, and set to work. The hours of brewing passed quickly. Too quickly. And soon the results were in and were clear.
In a sudden moment of frustrated rage, he flung the cauldron at the wall with such force that the cast iron weight of it knocked a chunk of crumbled stone to the floor. Violet liquid showered down onto his best set of scales, and more dripped eerily down the walls.
"NO! NO! NO! … NO!"
Not Potter. No, not Potter. Please Merlin, not Potter!