Harry Potter Breaking Free

Walking across the room, Harry took a seat in his traditional bed and then looked back at the elderly healer. "Thank you Madam Pomfrey, and I apologize for the trouble." Laying back on the mattress, Harry stared despondently up at the ceiling. He was far too frustrated with all of this to make nice with anyone anymore. In fact, now that nothing else was occupying his attention, Harry started getting pretty upset that his life can't ever just be normal.

"It's no big deal to me Harry," Hermione injected softly, from where she was sitting on his left. "It's not like I haven't hugged you before anyway." When her words failed to comfort her friend, Hermione grabbed at his cheek and forced him to look at her. She had a plan. Even if Harry wouldn't cheer up for himself, he WOULD cheer up for her... "Listen, Harry... Can you cheer up a bit for me?... Your magic isn't as comfortable as it was before..."

Until his friend brought it to his attention, Harry hadn't noticed the difference that his mood was making within his shroud. Hermione was right. He could immediately sense the change that had taken place within his magic. His aura was obviously reflecting his negativity in how it felt to those around him. It felt chilly and grating at the moment, as it projected his negativity out into the world.

Well... Damn.

Harry couldn't have that. He refused to allow himself to foist his upset feelings upon his friends. Very suddenly, he decided that if he absolutely must surround everyone in the room with his aura, the very least he could do is channel some positivity into it. Over the next couple of seconds, Harry focused on how lucky he was to have Hermione in his life, warming up his aura quite a bit.

Almost immediately, Dumbledore and Pomfrey looked more at ease, while to Harry's surprise Hermione sank to her chair like she was taking a nice hot bath.

"Oh Harr, that's quite nice. Feel free to think I'm amazing some more," Hermione whispered, as she leaned back and closed her eyes.

Harry smiled as he projected a sense of how much he'd enjoyed seeing her as a half-human, half-cat hybrid, complete with ears and tail, via polyjuice.

Hermione suddenly blushed a deep red as Harry somehow made himself understood. She never heard him say a word but she was under the impression that Harry was extremely amused by something very funny/cute that she'd done in the past. Despite her somewhat unjustified feeling of embarrassment, she was happy that her friend was happy again.

As the two teens kept each other occupied, Madam Pomfrey approached Harry's bed, so that she could perform a medical diagnosis spell. The Examorbus spell is designed to impart information regarding anything of significance that has been altered within a wizard's body or core within a certain amount of time. A huge portion of what it takes to be a good Healer is whether or not a person is gifted at the simple charm that she was about to perform. Indeed, the charm itself is quite easy to complete. It's the ability to accurately interpret the various information the charm imparts into the mind of the caster that is the truly difficult part. Poppy Pomfrey was one of the best Healers alive and was frequently asked to diagnose people from all over the world from her home base here at Hogwarts.

As she completed her Examorbus spell, Madam Pomfrey motioned for Dumbledore to join her. Then, when he stepped close, she tried to whisper into his ear, but in her excitement she was far too loud to keep a secret. "Dumbledore… That thing that you told me to ignore is completely gone."

Dumbledore immediately nodded with a look of relief upon his face.

After that mysterious statement, Madam Pomfrey returned her attention back to her diagnosis spell. Over time, she began to look more and more upset at what she was finding.

As more and more time went by, Madam Pomfrey's increasingly unhappy expression started freaking Harry out. The fact that she was losing her composure made him want to jump out of the bed and shake the woman for answers. He didn't. He controlled himself. Madam Pomfrey was focused on her spell, so he forced himself to stay still and out of her way. Instead, Harry continued projecting funny and or embarrassing Hermione memories towards his best friend in order to try to stay upbeat.

At this point, Hermione looked insane, because she kept blushing and or laughing at irregular intervals, as she was affected by his shroud.

By the time four minutes had passed, Madam Pomfrey was starting to turn a ghostly white color, causing Harry's nerves to be stretched to their limit as a result. His hands clenched tightly at his sides, when suddenly he caught sight of tear tracks running unnoticed down her cheeks. Madam Pomfrey just didn't do emotional. The fact that she was crying was a sign of the apocalypse if ever he'd seen one, and he suddenly feared whatever it was she had to say.