The Lost Potter

Hello, again. Again.

The bird in Hermione's pocket was forgotten entirely when she reached the infirmary. Ron patted the brainiac on the back awkwardly when her tears started to fall- seeing Harry covered in mud and barely responding was a scary sight. Everyone else wasn't doing any better- the twins were paler than they'd ever been, too scared to make jokes, and even the chaser girls who didn't know Harry all that well were shaking so hard the mud was sliding off of them.

Olivia didn't wake up until Hermione shifted closer to Harry once the team left- and even then, Olivia was in too much pain to move or pay attention to what they were saying. She faded in and out of consciousness until Hermione bent down to pick up the bag carrying Harry's Nimbus 2000.

The caw resounding from her pocket altered Hermione instantly to the bird she'd picked up, and she paused and sat back up to pull it out of her pocket.

"What is that?" Ron asked, momentarily forgetting about the news they were breaking to Harry.

"A crow, I think. It was damaged in the rain, and you kicked it on the way in. I was going to try and fix it," Hermione placed the bird on the bedside table, reaching down once again to pick up the bag of broom remains.

Olivia heard their voices and froze on the table, suddenly very worried about them finding out. None of them know Sirius didn't kidnap her, and if they went to Dumbledore who knows what would happen to Sirius. If I have to tell them, then I'll have to do it when no one else is around so I can explain it all. I can't risk getting caught.

Before Harry got over his initial shock Madame Pomfrey had shooed Ron and Hermione out of the room, saying they all needed sleep. The two didn't get a chance to complain, and Harry didn't feel it was needed.

"I'll have to keep you here for the rest of the weekend, just to be sure." The nurse had told him as she crossed over to him, frowning at the splinters on the bedsheets.

"Okay." Harry said, his eyes still focused on his shattered friend.

"May I clean this off, Mr. Potter?" She asked, reaching her arms out to scoop up the twigs.

"No," Harry said quickly, and she looked at him oddly but didn't persist.

Madam was about to leave him to his rest when she noticed a black blob on the bedside table, "And who has brought you a dead bird?"

"It's not dead, Madam Pomfrey," Harry explained, just now noticing the little black bird, "Hermione picked it up because it was injured in the rain. I guess she left it in here on accident."

"I see. I'll save Ms. Granger the trouble and release it- its wing is clearly broken, and it looks young. Without its mother, I doubt it will survive." Madam Pomfrey said, carefully picking up the bird. Olivia, who knew for sure she wasn't dying, tried to thrash in her hands without disturbing her broken wing.

"Hermione won't forgive you if you do that, just leave it here, she'll be back tomorrow," Harry said, resting back on to the pillow.

"It needs to rest, I suppose," Madam put the bird back down, away from the fruit bowl, "As do you, Mr. Potter. I'll leave you be."

Olivia listened as she walked away, not wanting to move a muscle. As Madam Pomfrey closed the curtain, Olivia slowly tried to get to her feet.

"Sorry for Ron, by the way. He's a bit out there," Harry said to the bird, no louder than a whisper, "Good thing Hermione brought you in. We both had a rough time in that weather."

Olivia looked at him oddly- sure she was actually a person, but Harry didn't know that. Did he?

"And you can't understand me. I'm going crazy." Harry sighed, and put his hands over his face, "I need sleep. Goodnight, bird."