Magic? || Years 1-5

He's Back: Year 4

"Someone's coming!" Amisty shouted, throwing out her arms to shove everyone away from Madame Pomfrey, who looked about ready to explode.

The door creaked, and Harry, Professor Dumbledore, and Snuffles -- no, Sirius -- entered the room.

Harry was pale, shaking slightly, the blood on his arm dried and dark, tear tracks tracing clean paths down all the dirt on his cheeks.

Mrs. Weasley let out a muffled sort of scream as she raced toward him, "Harry! Oh Harry!"

"Molly, please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening," Professor Dumbledore blocked her path, voice stern.

She nodded, turning toward the rest of them with the fiery light of motherly protectiveness, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"

"Headmaster, may I ask what -- " Madame Pomfrey began, her blue gaze fixed curiously on Sirius.

"This dog will be remaining with Harry for a while. I assure you, he is extremely well trained," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Harry -- I will wait while you get into bed. I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry. I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school."

And the Headmaster left.

"Dreamless Sleep, Amisty, it's in the back cabinet of my office," Madame Pomfrey whispered, guiding Harry to the bed furthest away from the shockingly pale form of Moody.

Amisty nodded, hurrying to go get it. She had never been allowed that far inside the office. That was the cabinet of the potions that wizards were prone to get addicted to... they had to be monitored closely.

She wrapped her fingers around the bottle, watching the purple potion swirl gently, before getting a goblet and pouring one serving. Carrying it and handing it to the healer, she numbly took a seat down next to Hermione.

"You'll need to drink all of this, Harry. It's a potion for dreamless sleep," Madame Pomfrey told him gently, handing over the goblet.

Harry nodded, swallowing a few gulps. Almost immediately his eyelids started to flutter. Madame Pomfrey barely took the goblet out of his hands before he was sleeping, chest rising and falling in a slow, steady pattern.

Madame Pomfrey walked until she behind Amisty, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, "His arm still needs healing. Would you like me to do it or -- "

"I'll do it," Amisty stood, gripping her wand very tightly in her hand.

"Amisty..." Hermione's voice held trepidation, her eyes worried. "Are you sure that you -- "

"I'll do it," She repeated, already kneeling down at the side of the bed and casting a Cleaning Charm on the blood that had dried around the wound and a gentler one directly on it.

The familiar bubble of silence surrounded her, muting the worried whispers and concerned glances. She flicked her wand, watching the skin knit up neatly.

Thankfully, whoever had done it used a clean knife, so it wasn't likely to get infected.

And with the combined efforts of her Cleaning Charms and the wrap, it would minimize the amount of scarring.

"Accio bandages!" She whispered under her breath, holding out a hand as the white gauze flew into her grasp.

She wrapped it around it tight, gaze flickering up to make sure he was still asleep. A few Sticking Charms later and her job was done.