Of Lightning Bolts And Green Eyes

3 - Waking Up

Harry sat up on the bed for a couple of minutes, wandering about that strange dream, before the memories of what had happened the day before came back, filling his mind like water filled an overflowing river.

He remembered it all: the nightmare; HIS laughter; uncle Vernon coming into his room, his face turning an ugly shade of purple because of the anger; the beating; being thrown out of the house... Hedwig, laying in the middle of the street, just waiting for a car to run over her cage.

The urge to cry overcame Harry when he thought about his beloved friend. The first he'd ever had. The creature he loved the most.

The teen put both his hands on his face, not even noticing the slight pain that lingered in his body, crying and wetting his skin with his tears.

He cried and cried and cried, loosing track of time and just sitting on that bed that was, obviously, too confortable to be his own.

Not that he had noticed yet.

He didn't know how much time had gone by. He didn't care. He couldn't stop crying, trying and failing to regain his breathing and calm down.

He was startled out of his thoughts when he heard the door creak open, revealing Tom, the bartender, whom he remembered as the owner of the Leacky Cauldron from his first time in Diagon Alley.

The man entered the room, not noticing that his 'patient' had woken up.

Tom made his way towards the table that stood opposite the bed and put down the shrinked trunk he carried with him, waving his wand and muttering a spell under his breath, watching as the trunk grew back to its original size.

Harry saw him open the trunk and take out a couple of glass vials: one of them was a vibrant red, the other was a creamy yellow.

The man turned around to face the bed, seeming determined to walk towards him, but stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed that the boy was awake.

"Oh, Mister Potter! It's good to see you're awake." the man said, coming out of his stupor. He didn't comment on the fact that his cheeks were tear stained; didn't say anything about his eyes, which were probably red and puffy. He just resumed walking and sat on the edge of his bed.

Harry was very grateful for all that.

Tom gave him the vibrant red potion and Harry took it without even wincing, swallowing the next one as fast as possible, so he didn't have to taste it.

He had stopped crying, probably because of the startle the entrance of the man gave him, and, feeling his tears drying on his cheeks, he grimaced and asked for the bathroom.

The man sitting next to him pointed to the door that was opposite the bed, next to the table, asking him to return as soon as possible and, if he was confortable with it, letting him take a look at how his scars were doing.

It took him just a couple minutes to wash his face and relieve his bladder.

He went back into the bedroom and found that Tom was back to looking into the trunk - which Harry supposed was like a first-aid kit for Muggles.

The teen decided to sit on the edge of the bed and wait for the man to finish with what he was doing.

He didn't have to wait too long.

Tom turned around and Harry noticed that he held a jar in his hands, filled with what seemed like butter. He came up to the bed and kneeled in front of the boy.

"I'll have to ask you to take your shirt off, Mister Potter." the bartender said gently, speaking to Harry as if he thought he would scare him away if the spoke too loudly.