Madam Pomfrey poked her head out behind a closed curtain. "Oh my," she murmured, upon seeing mini-Potter. She quickly turned back to the student she had been treating, cast a spell or two, made a quick order to 'be gentle with it less is break again before this blasted potion goes away'.

A small rustling of sheets met his ears before a puffy-faced, red-eyed Daphne walked out, head hung low and cradling her arm.

"And what exactly happened here?" Madam Pomfrey inquired with a quirked eyebrow, a small glower. Harry gulped as he looked up at her, craning his neck.

"Hi Madam Pomfrey." He said quietly, giving a crooked smile in an attempt to placate her. Her eyebrow did not lower. Harry looked at Draco for help, who was pointedly looking at the clock on the wall. Draco would be late for class soon.

"Potion mishap," Harry said, shuffling his feet a little. Madam Pomfrey nodded, eyebrow now at a normal height but lips now pursed.

"Come along, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomfrey led him to an empty bed, ordered him to sit and stay. Lights flickered and flared as she cast diagnostic spells on him. "Which potion?"

"Fest-uhm, Festina te-"

"Festina Tempus. Madam Pomfrey, may I go now? I'll be late to transfiguration," Draco cut. Harry shot him a slightly hurt look which Draco again, pointedly ignored, glancing meaningfully to the clock.

Madam Pomfrey waved her hand in dismissal, and Draco briskly walked out. Professor Mcgonagall was going to kill him for being late. It wasn't even his fault! Stupid Potter...

Draco pushed the thought of Potter's hurt eyes out of his head. It wasn't his problem anymore.

Transfiguration, he unfortunately shared with the Gryffindors. Mcgonagall stared at him over her glasses as he walked in late, but said nothing. Her class began with her silently pacing back and forth, staring at her students. Whispers vanished as soon as her harsh eyes passed them.

"It has come to my attention that there has been an incident concerning Mr. Potter today that you all witnessed," she began. The students in the classroom shifted nervously. "I have been informed to tell you that if I hear any of you, even if you are not from my house, saying anything about this situation you will be punished. This is not a laughing matter. I do not want to hear any gossiping, murmuring, whispering, anything concerning Mr. Potter. You will keep this to yourselves, least you all wish to be responsible for a considerable loss of house points and any detention I wish to bestow upon you. Do I make myself clear?"

Silence met her ears. No one hardly dared to breathe.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Professor!" Voices rang out. Mcgonagall nodded slightly, and said nothing else on the matter. Soon, the class was busy writing notes, and the only whispers were complaints of hurt wrists and 'what did she just say?'

Once dismissed, Draco went to his last class of the day, arithmancy with Professor Vector. Draco was in a good mood as he walked into her class. He hadn't needed to worry about Potter at all, and was assured this matter would take care of itself without his needing to be involved or concerned, and a day where he did not need to deal with Potter was indeed a good day.

~~~

The Hospital Wing was cold. Harry shivered slightly. He thought about casting a warming charm on himself, but wasn't sure how well he'd be able to do magic right now, so decided against it. Wondering why the Hospital Wing was so unreasonably cold, he kicked his dangling feet back and forth. Harry thought it might've been to discourage students.

Madam Pomfrey had left a little while ago, ordering him to 'stay put less I glue you to that bed, Mr. Potter' and had then bustled off out the room. He looked down at his feet, chuckling at the fact that they finally fit him. And to think, all it had taken was being shrunk to...whatever age he was to have proper fitting shoes for once.

Harry eventually decided to lay down, pondering at when Madam Pomfrey would be back. He fell asleep soon after.

When he woke up, it was to quiet voices. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking at the fuzzy figures. He reached around for his glasses, before they were gently put in his hand. He gave a small smile as suddenly Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore came into a...somewhat focus.

"Harry, my boy. How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked, giving Harry a comforting smile.

"I'm okay. it's kinda disorienting, my limbs aren't the size they're supposed to be. And I think my glasses are the wrong prescription, things are still blurry." Madam Pomfrey tapped his glasses quickly, and suddenly Harry could see better than he ever had! He blinked rapidly to adjust to the change, giving Madam Pomfrey a grateful smile.

"So...Can you fix me now?" Harry looked at the two. Dumbledore's smile faltered a bit.

Madam Pomfrey spoke to him then, and Harry wondered at why her voice softer than he had ever heard it. "Mr. Potter, I had Professor Slughorn give me a vial of the potion you drank, and it is malfunctioning. You've been asleep for nearly an hour and a half, which is well over the time the effects were supposed to have lasted. There is no telling how long this will last, but I do believe we must let the potion work itself out of your system."

"You can't do anything," Harry said, aghast. Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

"Don't look so sullen, Mr. Potter. Arrangements will be made to deal with the situation. Our students particular habit to gossip has already been dealt with, as I've heard."

Harry's raised an eyebrow in question. His silent inquiry was not answered. "As it is, you will have accommodated sleeping conditions, meal times and classes until other arrangements are made, as I've been informed." Madam Pomfrey said.

Before Harry could protest, the stern women held up a hand to silence him. Harry deflated slightly, nodding. "Before we get into all of that, take this." She handed him two vials, one an ugly light green and the other a dark blue. He swallowed them both quickly, shuddering. He felt the ache in his bones vanish, the pain from where his injuries would brush against his clothes gone. His stomach felt full and a headache he hadn't even noticed went away.

"What were those?" Harry asked.

"Healing and nutrient potions," she said curtly. Harry stared at her, realizing what exactly that meant.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I have some questions. My diagnostics say you're about seven years old right now. Would you like to explain to me why you are so horribly malnourished?" Her stern look made Harry wilt where he was sitting.

"I didn't eat much as a kid."

"Hm. Well, perhaps you'd also like to explain to me why you were absolutely covered in bruises and burns before I ordered you to take that potion?" She said next, staring at him.

"Clumsy." Harry refused to look at her. Instead, he stared resolutely at a crack on the spotless white tile floor.

Madam Pomfrey softened her stare, but only slightly. "Mr. Potter, you realize this is a safe area. You will not be harmed here," she said quietly. Harry refused to look at her.

"I'm fine. It's really nothing, Madam Pomfrey," he said. Madam Pomfrey sighed.

"Really, Mr. Potter, now is not the time to nurse your pride," Madam Pomfrey muttered as she discarded the empty potion bottles. "If you do spontaneously remember something to do with Muggles and bruises, please enlighten me and I will take care of it, I assure you." She glared at him until he nodded. Satisfied, she looked to Professor Dumbledore who had been standing behind her quietly.

Harry felt as if he had missed something as he looked between the two.

"Harry, will you come with me to my office?" Professor Dumbledore looked at him kindly, a reassuring smile on his face. Harry nodded, sliding off the bed and hitting the floor with a slight thud.

He followed Professor Dumbledore through the empty hallways, wondering if Dumbledore had purposefully waited until they would be empty to fetch him.

Dumbledore filled their walk with small talk, to Harry's surprise. He began with the news on the Daily Prophet, of how a squib had just been tried with abusing dark artifacts. Harry mostly hummed in response, feeling awkward with Dumbledore's eye watching him closely.

"Another Triwizard Tournament is to be held at Durmstrang in a decade or so, did you know?" Dumbledore smiled down at him. Harry nodded slowly. "Do you think they'll use the dragons once more? I thought they were a delightful touch, gave the Forbidden Forest a nice trim too." Dumbledore chuckled merrily, as if the destruction of the forest was a delightful thing.

Harry stared up at him for a moment, confusion furrowing his eyebrows. "Dragons aren't real," Harry said, though he sounded fairly unsure of himself.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. He didn't comment on the dragons further. "Harry, tell me, what are the types balls used in Quiddich and what do they do?" He asked instead. Harry thought that was a weird question. Or at least, he did, until he began having difficulty answering.

"Bludgers...they chase people around. And kaffels-Quaffles score points." Harry nodded, satisfied with himself. Dumbledore smiled down at him kindly.

"Indeed. Never a good match without some Quaffle fighting, is it?" Dumbledore said, thoughtfully looking down at Harry, who nodded. "Yes, indeed...blood pops."

Harry watched, enchanted as the statue rotated, revealing a staircase. They entered, Harry smiled gleefully at sparkling, whirling, twirling trinkets around the room. He spotted Fawks, proud and prime and preening. Harry petted him gently, giggling as he was nudged back.

"Fawks is at his best right now, and he certainly enjoys attention," Dumbledore spoke from behind his desk. Harry looked over, and saw the empty chairs facing the desk. He moved to sit, but Dumbledore held up his hand. "We'll be here for a moment, please continue. Would you like a Lemon Drop?" He offered, motioning towards a bowl.

Harry shook his head, and returned to Fawks who was nipping at his finger. Harry was reminded of Hedwig, and smiled. He needed to visit her.

"It's so dark in here," Harry said, frowning as he looked at the book shelves. He could hardly make out the titles on the spines.

"Oh yes, I do tend to keep it dim, Fawks gets moody if he isn't one of the brighter objects in the room. Why don't you cast a lumos so you can see better, I'm sure Fawks wouldn't mind." Dumbledore smiled at Harry reassuringly.

Harry pulled out his wand, making a messy upside down 'V'. "Lumos!" He cried out. His wand flickered, a shaky light sputtering before giving out. Harry frowned. "That's...weird." He looked at Dumbledore, who watched him thoughtfully.

Fawks nipped at Harry, who continued to pet the large bird, wondering what was wrong with him.

A heavy knock came from the door. "Come in."

~~~

Draco had been in the midst of arithmancy when Professor Vectors lecture had been cut off by the door opening.

A young Hufflepuff girl with long hair poked her head in. Walking into the classroom, she extended her hand out to Professor Vector. "Excuse me, Professor, this is for you."

Professor Vector took the small scroll that the girl had been holding and dismissed her. Skimming, she closed the scroll. "Malfoy, gather your things" she called. Draco put away the few things he had out, and quickly made his way to her. "I expect you to have the essay completed by Thursday," she said, dismissing him.

He walked out, closing to the door to the sounds of groans behind him. Cracking open the scroll once more, he found his eyebrows raising.

Mr. Malfoy,
Please come to the Headmasters Office immediately, the password is 'Blood pops'.
-Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. 

Draco mourned the loss of his lunch as he began walking.

Luckily, his trek was short, down a flight of stairs and a hallway, and soon he was face to face with the large gargoyle that protected the Headmasters Office.

He felt stupid saying the password to a statue. He checked his surroundings quickly, only speaking once he was sure no one was around to hear him. "Blood pops."

The statue slowly rotated, spinning on its axis to reveal a staircase Draco gracefully stepped on before ascending to a heavy wooden door with a large griffin knocker.

Knock, knock.

"Come in."

Draco stepped in slowly, first noticing how much taller Professor Dumbledore seemed behind his desk, and then the two empty chairs in front of him.

For a moment he wondered what the second chair was for, until a high squawking sound drew his attention to a very large bird in the corner, who was nuzzling against a giggling Mini-Potter.

"Please, Mr. Malfoy, take a seat. You as well, Harry." Professor Dumbledore held out a bowl. "Lemon drop?" Draco hesitated a moment then took one. Damned sweet tooth. Harry took one also, face scrunching up at the sour taste. Draco laughed a little, before it quickly dropped after realizing that Harry was looking at him.

Dumbledore smiled at a weary Draco. "How are you today, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Fine, Professor, thank you. Sorry for the confusion, but why am I here, exactly?" Draco did Not Look at Harry who was most certainly Looking at him.

Dumbledore didn't seemed to have heard him. "Your name has a peculiar meaning to it, doesn't it?"

"Yes, sir...it means 'Dragon'...what does this have to do with me?"

Ignored again. "Harry, what kind of dragon was it that you fought just a few years ago? Mighty beast, wouldn't you say?"

Harry's eyes snapped back to Professor Dumbledore. "A Hungarian Horntail, Professor. I mostly just thought it was terrifying."

"Indeed, I imagine that would be frightening for someone as young as you were." Dumbledore chuckled.

"Excuse me, Professor, but I do have classes I need to attend." Draco was getting a little irritated now, being ignored continuously. He had more important things to do than to contemplate the meaning of names!

"Mr. Malfoy, I encourage you to exercise your patients for a few moments." Draco looked down, embarrassed by the reprimand.

"As you both know, this is...a delicate matter we are dealing with at the moment. I need you both to be exceptionally cooperative for the time being. Madam Pomfrey has informed me that while the concoction Mr. Potter ingested is not physically harming, it is not good for him.

"Mr. Potter is already experiencing memory issues. Just moments ago, he did not believe that dragons existed, nor did he know what a Golden Snitch was." Dumbledore looked at them both gravely.

"Though, as all three of us just witnessed, once you walked into the room, Mr. Malfoy, Harry remembered not only that dragons exist, but the type of dragon he fought during the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore paused, giving them both a moment to digest that information and the implications of it.

"This is a very serious situation, and I need both of you to help me. Mr. Potter is vulnerable right now because of his lack of magical ability, I think it best to keep him separated from the rest of the schools population. I'm sure you boys both understand what could happen if this news spread to unfriendly ears." Dumbledore looked down at them over his glasses, waiting for a nod.

"I..." Harry, hesitated, looking at the two of them to see if he'd be interrupted. Draco thought that was rather strange. He couldn't remember a time Potter didn't blunder through a sentence thoughtlessly. "I understand, sir, but what about my classes Professor?"

"I do not think you should be particularly worried about your schoolwork at this time Mr. Potter. I will make arrangements for you and if so, necessary materials shall be given to you over the summer, if this takes that long. As for you, Mr. Malfoy, I want you to spend more time with Mr. Potter. I think you will be good for his memory, and perhaps if you could train him magically as well."

Draco was astounded by how foolish his headmaster could sound sometimes, really. "Sir, I really don't think I'm the person you want for this. Potter and I don't have any...particularly platonic memories between us."

"I am well aware, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore chuckled a small bit. Draco felt his face burn slightly.

"What exactly do you expect me to be able to do, Professor? I have classes, meals, homework...when and how often do you expect me to be babysitting him? Where will he even go? I can't travel miles into Hogsmead or the forbidden forest to get to his isolated cottage, or-" Draco was going to continue, but Dumbledore's stern stare stopped him.

"Dinky," Dumbledore called out. Dinky the house elf popped into the room suddenly. Though Draco's eyelid was twitching steadily, he suppressed a laugh at how high Potter jumped out of his chair at the sight of the House-Elf. "Prepare a suitable room for these two lads in the Northern Tower. As quickly as you can, dear," Dumbledore addressed the happily tearing House-Elf with a smile.

"Of course Sirs!" Dinky croaked happily, before popping away again. Harry stared at where the house elf had been, still seeming scared and shocked.

"You will both be sleeping in that room. Once she returns, you will be shown how to get there and the password. Your things will be moved up there shortly. Mr. Malfoy, please do calm yourself, red doesn't suit you as well as it does Fawks." Chuckling, Dumbledore smiled at the two of them.

Huffing, Draco took the headmasters advice before he embarrassed himself further. "I'm only obligated to spend hours after curfew there?" Draco felt the need for clarification. He would not keep himself there for longer than necessary because of confusing instructions.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. And when you are not there, other arrangements will be made to ensure Mr. Potters safety."

Dinky popped back into the room, once again startling Harry. Draco didn't notice how quiet he had been til he realized he only moved when he had been startled. He was...oddly still and quiet for a young child. Bloody hell, he was too still and quiet for any aged Potter! Draco kept forgetting he was even there. That might've been due to the anger, though.

"Everything is ready for masters!" Dinky said, her shrill voice making the boys flinch.

"Thank you, Dinky. If you'll show the boys to the room and how to open the door, after that you may return to the kitchens. Mr. Malfoy, you may return to your lunch and your classes, and spend the rest of the time as you may wish until curfew." He nodded to them both, and then to Dinky.

Harry hesitantly approached the House-Elf. He held out his hand for a shake. "Hello." Dinky started to tear up, and Harry began to worry he did something wrong.

"No Master has ever wanted to shake Dinky's hand! Oh thank you Sirs, so kind! Dobby is true what he says about Sirs Potter!" She cried out.

Harry looked very uncomfortable. "Uhm, thank you? I'm sorry if this is terribly rude, but...what...are you?" Harry asked, looking down at the creature that wasn't much shorter than himself right now.

Though Draco and Dumbledore exchanged a glance, Dinky wasn't phased at all. "I'm a House-Elf Sirs Potters!" She told him happily, dancing on the balls of her feet. "We must be goings now! I have to show Sirs how to get into your room!" Dinky held out her hands. Harry and Draco grabbed one each, and all three vanished with a soft pop!