11 March 1992, Hogwarts
The moment the blood touched the man's lips, something fundamentally changed. Harry ignored Longbottom's moans of pain as he reached for his scar, too preoccupied with the utter agony and wrongness that seemed to magically scream to everything around it. The world itself cried out at the act, and Harry was deafened by its screams.
Harry woke up in a very comfortable bed. He blinked his eyes open and looked for his glasses to have a better look. He was met with a wide room with many beds. Its floor looked like it was made of marble, and the ceiling was entirely white. He was immediately accosted by the familiar face of Madam Pomfrey, "Oh, so you're finally up, Mr Potter. Take this."
The mediwitch practically forced a potion down his throat. It tasted vile but he did feel better, calmer in a way. He blinked slightly and asked her, "How long have I been here?"
"A little over a week," the mediwitch responded, "how in Merlin's name did you stress your magical pathway that much, I have no idea. What kind of spell were you even attempting to cast?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary," Harry replied.
The woman snorted, "With a magical crest that unusual, I have a hard time thinking of that. It's most certainly connected to what happened to you."
At his worried look, the matron snorted, "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about it. Patient confidentiality is part of the oath I took when I became a healer. Unless you're dying and can't make a decision yourself, I can only communicate it with your guardians. Family members are usually knowledgeable when it comes to individual magical crests and the like. I have to say that I have never seen it be manifested in such a large way, on your chest, no less."
Harry relaxed slightly at her assurances and tried to move. His chest was burning, specifically near where his chest manifested. But why was his crest aching so much? Confused, he murmured to himself, "What happened?"
"That's precisely what I wished to find out," an aged voice replied next to him.
Harry stiffened; this was Dumbledore. He didn't even notice the headmaster being there. Sure, he was still disoriented somewhat, but that wasn't a good excuse for not paying attention. Harry didn't trust Dumbledore, not one bit. He wasn't that ethically bound as he liked people to believe, that's for sure. The compulsion charm to get Harry to have the urge to look at the mirror or Erised was already a black mark on his record.
The Potter scion then started activating his Occlumency, emptying his mind, and calming himself.
"What do you mean, Headmaster?" He simply replied.
"Well, what happened in the Forbidden Forrest was very unfortunate. You'll be pleased to know that Mr Weasley, and Ms Granger, did not have any encounter with whatever attacked you and Mr Longbottom. However, young Neville has helped fill in what happened on your end. I have to say that you were very brave in saving his life."
Oh, yeah, he did save his life, didn't he? He was starting to remember now. There was a killing curse coming towards Longbottom. Harry tacked him out of the way. He didn't really think about it, he just didn't want the boy to be hurt. Oh, God, the unicorn, was it alright?
Then, in his mind, Harry started to feel a foreign presence, scanning for his thoughts. Deciding to indulge Dumbledore slightly, Harry brought out the encounter with the cloaked figure, without the sensory input for his Arcane Hearing. He definitely did not want Dumbledore to find out about it.
It was easier to fool someone when they are absolutely confident that they are getting one over on you. If he had looked too much at the memory, Dumbledore would have noticed that there was something missing. Like a certain colour missing from a photo. It wasn't complete, but he would never be able to realize it.
Harry simply repressed a smirk and answered, "I didn't really think about it, to be honest, but I am glad that Longbottom is unharmed."
He wasn't even lying. No one should have to die this young, especially because the staff thought it was a good idea to send four first year students into a dangerous forest, with only a half-giant who had his wand snapped and hadn't even finished his magical education.
The headmaster seemed to brighten at his sincerity, "Can you tell me what you remember, young Harry?"
The Potter scion didn't like how familiar the older man was acting but didn't voice it. There was no reason for him to do it. But he did think back at the encounter while making sure to remove Arcane Hearing from the memory.
"Longbottom and I followed the traces of unicorn blood for what felt like hours. We ended up seeing someone or something drinking its blood directly from an injured unicorn."
Yeah, Harry could feel the disgust that came with seeing the glowing silverly liquid around the lips of the monster who dared slay such an innocent creature.
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