Harry swore and yanked his hand out from under the bed. A doxy was clamped onto his forearm, it’s tiny fangs sunk deep into his skin. “Ulgh, get off!” He flicked his arm and the little creature went flying, tumbling back into the shadows. Harry stood up and stepped back. Blood was trickling towards his hand. The doxy’s claws had gouged long lines of scratches down his skin and two tiny tooth punctures were oozing blood freely. He made a face and went to the bathroom to rinse off.
It was a warm August evening and he was at Grimmauld Place, gathering his school things in preparation for the trip back to Hogwarts tomorrow. He rinsed the blood away and grimaced as the cuts stung.
“Okay?” Sirius walked by. He noticed the blood. “Merlin, Harry, what happened?” Sirius came in and Harry showed him the wound.
“Doxy.” He said. “Nasty one.” Harry turned the water off and patted his skin dry with a towel.
“Huh, I thought we got rid of them all.” Sirius mused. “We’ll need more doxycide. There’s healing potion in the kitchen, I think. Take a double dose, that should clear it by tomorrow. You don’t want to start the school year with a gored arm!” Sirius grinned.
“Yeah, okay.” Harry said. It didn’t really hurt yet but it looked gross. The punctures were bigger than he’d first thought and the rows of pink scratches down his skin were six inches of shallow jagged-edged flesh. Harry went down the corridor, past his friends who were sitting in Hermione’s room.
“It’s going to be incredible, Hermione! The Moonshot Silver!” Ron was thrusting a folded magazine showing a photo of the yet-to-be-released quidditch broom, slated to drop later that year. Hermione took the magazine with disinterest, watching a Chudley Cannons player zooming around on the sleek prototype.
“Great.” She said, handing it back.
Harry smiled as he headed down the stairs with the towel pressed to his wounds. He was as excited as Ron about the broom but he was certain it would cost about a billion galleons. He went into the kitchen and opened a cabinet above the counter top.
“Potter.” A slightly slurred voice spoke to him. Harry glanced over and saw Mundungus Fletcher at the table wearing his usual pile of rags, staring over a tankard into the fire. The remnants of a meal were on a plate beside him.
“Hey, Mun, didn’t know you were here.” Harry opened another cabinet, saw nothing but a bowl and a cup, and closed it. Where would the healing potions be? He looked around.
“Jus’ got in.” Mundungus said. A big burlap bag was on the table next to him. “I were off doin’ work for the Order.”
None on that shelf either. Harry knelt down and opened the cabinet under the sink.
“What you lookin’ for?” Mundungus asked.
“Healing potion.” Harry said, his voice muffled in the small space. There was nothing under here but dust and what seemed to be a desiccated rat. Harry stood up and sighed.
“I got some stuff.” Mundungus opened his burlap sack. “Just got me a bunch o’ potions. Got some really good stuff in here.”
“From where?” Harry asked, coming to the table. Mundungus wasn’t exactly known for his ethical sourcing of products. More than likely he’d stolen this bag from someone.
“A fella I know. Good bloke. What you need?”
“Just a healing potion. Got bit by a doxy.”
“Healing potion, you say?” Mundungus dug through the bag, glass vials clinking, and pulled out a faceted crystal cruet stopped with a cork. He popped the cork and sniffed. “Here ya go.” He handed it over to Harry. He took it dubiously. The liquid in the cruet was the same shade of crimson as a healing potion. He sniffed. It had a mild medicinal scent, just like a healing potion.
“Are you certain this is a healing potion, Mundungus?”
“Oh yeah!” Mundungus said. “The bloke I seen, he knows his stuff.” Mundungus belched and drank from the tankard. “It’s on me list here, see?” Mundungus produced a grubby piece of parchment detailing the contents of the bag.
Harry paused. His arm was starting to ache. Doxies were technically venomous but their venom was harmless long-term to humans. Untreated Harry knew his arm would ache something fierce but would heal up on its own in time. He took a small sip and licked his lips. It was pretty bitter, but otherwise tasted mostly like healing potion. He waited a few seconds. He didn’t burst into flames or anything. It was probably fine. Relieved, Harry gulped down the entire contents.
“Thanks, Mung.” Harry said with a grin.
“Eyy, don’t mention it, lad.”