Chapter Text
Sitting at the Gryffindor table, Harry was happy. He was home! At least 9 months of plenty of food and no beatings!
The little ones had just been sorted, and wow, were they little (and wet?)! Not that he was much taller, but still!
Where was he? Oh yes, he was happy. Even if his body still ached, after some nasty beatings he had received from Uncle Vernon this summer. It could only get better now with time, rest, and food. It would be perfect if his Godfather Sirius were declared innocent, too! He just didn't get, what the problem was? Dumbledor was the Chief Warlock of the wizarding court thingy, was he not? Surely, he could get the ball rolling? He was all-powerful after all, Hermione said so!
Next to Harry, Ron Weasley his best friend, sat and scowled. He was so hungry! Internally he chanted food, food, food, food, food...
Whereas Hermione on Harry's other side studied the staff table and wondered who the Defence teacher would be this year. Surely Professor Dumbledore had found someone amazing!
Just as Professor McGonagall picked up the little stool, where the sorting hat sat on top, the door banged open. There – within the false thunderstorm the ceiling created – as a mirror to the outside conditions – stood a most scary man. Scary and full of scars. Was that what the word scary came from? Harry thought, distracted. And the man had a peg leg and a false eye and wow! A pirate? Where was the parrot?
Then, just as Dumbledore started to introduce the man, the doors of the Great Hall slammed shut!
“ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!” Rang through all present children and adults. Harry could not use another word to describe it. It sounded like deep bells – that could talk. – The sound travelled through his whole body, leaving a vibrating feeling in his belly and bones.
“THE HALL IS LOCKED DOWN. THE GOBLINS ARE INFORMED. THE HAT WILL TALK FOR ME.”
Phew! Harry thought. Thank God! That 'voice' is quite uncomfortable!
Dumbledore then waved his wand, and the thunderstorm became much tamer and quieter. “Hat! What is this, who was that?”
The hat, still on the stool in McGonagall's hands, answered “what do you mean, 'who was that'? That was Hogwarts, you imbecile!”
As thanks, the shocked McGonagall nearly dropped the hat.
Some students snickered (e.g., Harry, Ron). Somewhere outraged that their Headmaster had been insulted (Hermione)!
The hat went on, “And she has had it with you and your ways. She will not allow another plot of yours to play out in her Halls, with her students in danger. This polyjuiced man was the last straw!”
In an immediate reaction, the scary, scarred pirate, who stood next to the staff table close to Professor McGonagall by now pulled out his wand and – was promptly stunned by a spell coming from the ceiling. Like a lightning strike. Huh?
As they all sat there, stunned with only the headmaster having risen from his 'throne', the hat said, “Now, before the goblins arrive, you all will be scanned for potions, spells, mind magic, and general health. A preliminary report will be written about you, to start them off.”
Astonished whispers could be heard from all tables.
“No! I forbid it! Only I can order that! I am the headmaster!” Dumbledore bellowed, not nice and grandfatherly at all anymore.
The astonished whispers grew, but the students were reassured as well, their great Headmaster had it covered.
“Hogwarts doesn't care for your histrionics; she cares for her students! As you fail in that regard, as do many others, she had to take over. Now be quiet and sit down!”
No one had ever heard the hat talk resolutely like that.
“You cannot talk to the headmaster like that!” Hermione shrieked from the Gryffindor table.
“Watch me, girly! – Now all be quiet, the first one who says something will be stunned as well. – You may put my stool down now, dearie!” the last was said to McGonagall, who quickly complied and nearly ran to her seat at the staff table.
The hat went on, “Now, a beam of green magic in form of a curtain will move over all of you. You will not feel a thing. It is just a Healer's scan. A very throughout one. – Then a report will appear in front of each of you. Only you and an ICW-certified Healer can read it.”
Dumbledore opened his mouth “Mada –” And was struck down by a stunning spell from the ceiling as well. The headmaster slumped forward, sitting down on his throne involuntarily, his upper body lying on the table and his plate, and his cutlery.
“He was warned. – So, let’s begin! The scan will start at the entrance doors and move over all of you kids to the staff table. This is absolutely painless. So, please stay seated for the duration, or we have to do the scan individually, in front of the rest. Thank you!”
Then it came, like out of a Star Trek movie, some muggle-born thought. Slowly it went over all of them. When the green ‘beam-curtain’ had passed, an envelope was dropped in front of each person. Some fluttered some dropped down heavily, probably filled with more results?
Harry received quite the package! He looked to the other envelopes in his vicinity. No one had one as thick as him. Darn! Not normal once again! But seeing the other kids looking at their results, he opened his envelope as well.
The first thing, which jumped to his eyes was a big fat 3. Huh? Then came personal information like:
'Preliminary health scan of Henry (Harry) James Ralston Potter – Date of scan: September 1, 1994'
– Henry Ralston? What? No way! Is that true? – Harry thought, confused.
'Birthday; July 31, 1980
Physical age: 14' – you don't say!
Place of birth: Potter manor, near Godric's Hollow' – huh? a manor?
Harry was reeling from the information he had not known about himself! Those should be the most basic facts to him about his own person!
'Height: 4'10''
Weight: 4st 5lb – malnutrition' – huh? I gained so much already? Thanks, Mrs. Weasley!
Next to him, Hermione was ranting about not being fifteen already. Huh? Harry thought distractedly but continued to read his own results.
'Overview:
Physical health: 3 what's with those numbers?
Mental health: 3 meaning?
Health of mind: 3 (compromised) huh?
Additional issues: 3 (foreign entity) Huh?
Advice: See Healer within the week!'
Harry didn't know what to make of all of this. (Soon he would turn into an owl, with all the 'huhs'!) And he wouldn't go to Madame Pomfrey, that was for sure! She only scolded, did the most urgent, but ignored anything else. And she always kept him in the Hospital wing unnecessarily!
His eyes fell on the last little list on the first page of his results, there was an explanation of the numbers at last!
'0 no issues
1 minor issues
2 some issues
3 major issues
4 immediate attention necessary!'
So, he had major issues in ALL those categories! Damn! He cussed in his mind. Hermione couldn't scold him in here at least! He hoped! But I am alright! Right? I am!
He turned to the next page
'Physical health'
Here, all his issues were listed, all his badly healed broken bones, all the beatings and resulting tissue damages, his malnutrition, his eyesight, (oh? it could be corrected? Yes!), missed vaccinations, muggle and magical, his many scars... the scar on his forehead housed an 'entity' it seemed! what the...?
He quickly turned the pages to:
'Mental health'
First listed here was ‘abuse' what? No! No way! It wasn't... or was it? Nonono! Harry skipped the listed abuses his relatives had dished out. He didn't want to deal with that right now, or ever! – He moved to the next point. Oh, seeing his teacher die at his hands, was bad. No kidding, he still had nightmares! Being thrown into a new world, without introduction... ok, but Hagrid did his best! The celebrity status and its expectations, Dementors and resulting soul damage, no adult support – ever, the basilisk, nearly dying... the list went on. Wow, that is a lot of stuff!
Better move on! Man, this whole thing was a book! Someone should put a binding on it! He turned the pages to 'health of mind' And started to read about potions in his system, compliance, loyalty... and spells –
BAM! The doors were thrown open again a huge group of goblins in armour and humans in green robes came marching in. The doors closed behind them again with a loud snap. That door is getting quite the workout, Harry thought, distracted.
A heavily armed Goblin in an elaborate, silvery shining armour boomed, “We have been called for aid! From Hogwarts herself. And we answered! The olde treaties with the founders still stand! – There seem to be numerous issues, with a great many things! The wards, intruders, the finances, and most importantly, the health of the students and the staff. We will take over now, to address all the issues.” He added with authority.
Just then, a high and indignant voice called out from the Gryffindor table “I have to pee!” Quiet sniggering could be heard, but some students nodded.
Another voice, a little deeper said “I am hungry!”
The goblin in front grinned toothily. “Right! First things first! – Hogwarts, please add doors to bathrooms for boys and girls each and one for female and male adult humans each, and one for goblins. No one leaves until the ICW emergency team of Healers has had a first look at the situation. And until we have taken all possible criminals into custody.”
Next to the main doors, two doors appeared with 'Boys' or 'Girls' written on them. Some children, from all the tables, rushed to them. All could enter.
But the attention moved to the next happenings in the Hall, as three more doors appeared at convenient places as well, but no one seemed in need of those right now.
“Good, now for food. As you eat, the ICW Healers here will collect your preliminary scan results from everyone. They will sort through them and decide on a course of action. – House elves please serve the feast!”
And with that, the food appeared! So, it wasn't Dumbledore, like he let them assume, who was responsible for bringing the food to the tables! It was house elves!
Hermione's indignant ranting was drowned by many hungry and excitedly talking children.
Harry and Ron were happily eating. At last! thought Harry. Food! thought Ron.
It was delicious!
“Thanks, house elves” Harry called out. Hermione huffed arms crossed stubbornly, not taking anything. Many other students did as Harry did and called out their thanks. Often with quite full mouths.
Exited, high-pitched squeaking could be heard, coming from the floor of all things. Harry grinned. He elbowed Hermione gently. “You will make them happy if you eat and enjoy! Come on! Don't make them sad by ignoring their hard work!” At last, he never had that problem with the Dursleys! They ate everything. Without thanking me, though...
Hermione huffed, murmured something about 'slave labour', but started eating, at last a little.
Just then an accented voice said behind them “Your results, please.” Turning they noticed one of the green-robed wizards standing behind them, holding out his hand. All, close by, handed over their pages. He raised an eyebrow at Harry's big stack of parchment, but didn't say anything, thankfully! And just as Hermione opened her mouth, to barrage him with questions, he moved on, to collect more results.
Harry looked around, to see what was happening. Some of the Healers had set up shop in one corner of the Hall at some new, maybe conjured tables. They were obviously sorting the results with magic. They had five stacks of Parchment before them, differing in height. They seemed to sort those stacks again in some indiscernible fashion.
One Healer seemed to look at a report, he was sorting. He cast some spell, which seemed to show him the direction, and sprinted(!) to one of the Slytherin first years. There he bundled up the little boy and gently carried him behind some privacy partitions, they seemed to have implemented there. Huh?
One other Healer, looked through the stacks before he got up and marched to the boss-goblin (as Harry had named him in his head). The Healer gestured wildly in the direction of the staff table and the boss-goblin nodded and said something back. The Healer then nodded in understanding and went back to his task.
“What do you think, that was about?” Harry asked.
“Huh?” Ron looked up from his plate, mouth quite full. “Whawd?”
“Never mind.” Harry waved him off. “Nothing.”
“Did you see the crest on the healer’s clothes? The one that got our results? That was the emblem of the ICW! They must have come all the way from Geneva! How did they get here so fast? He had an accent, right? But I couldn't place it! Where do you think he originally came from? I mean, the ICW has employees all over the world, right? Do you think, he was Russian? ...” Harry tuned out Hermione's rambling, never-ending questions. She wasn't really interested in his answers right now. She was too excited. He grinned fondly and nodded along. That was all she needed, it seemed.
Before them, the food had turned into mountains of sweets. Ron and others called out another heartfelt thanks to the invisible elves and went to work. The floor squeaked excitedly again.
Then, close to the staff table, there was a commotion around the stunned scarred guy. “Barty Crouch Jr!” was yelled by... someone. The students looked at one another in question a shrugged, confused
“Albus! Did you know?” screamed McGonagall, then noticing Dumbledore's still stunned form, slumped at the staff table. “I wish I could enervate you!” She stared accusingly at the ceiling that didn't stun her at least. They had tried to wake the headmaster up but had only been able to remove the dishes under him, to make him more comfortable.
Meanwhile, the goblins were waving their hands and binding the – not so scarred anymore – man heavily in chains. He looked totally different, as far as Harry could glimpse for a second. Too many people stood in the way! Again, he wished he were taller.
One goblin exclaimed, picked something up, and rushed to the Healer's station. An envelope! Right! The strange wizard had been scanned as well!
“Doesn't Percy work for someone named Crouch?” Harry remembered.
“You are right! His Boss' name was Barty Crouch as well! Wasn't he the guy who freed his poor elf at the World Cup?” Hermione asked big-eyed.
“Yes, that was his name! But I don't think that's him over there” Harry pointed in the direction of the formerly like-a-pirate-looking man.
“Maybe, Percy's Boss is the senior?” Hermione speculated.
Harry nodded, “Maybe. But strange!”
Everyone nearby nodded.
Somewhere another student was rushed behind the partition.
“What's with all the Slytherins being rushed off?” Ron groused, amazingly aware of his surroundings. At last, in regard to Slytherins. So, he understood what Harry had asked before. Maybe his food-addled brain needed time to process information while gobbling? Harry thought a little uncharitably.
They probably are '4s', needing immediate medical attention. Harry realized sadly. But he didn't voice it aloud, knowing that Ron or Hermione would blur out something insensitive. Not that they didn't mean well, they just didn't know. He was simply happy, that he was a '3' and hoped the Healers would be a little more discreet with his information!
He then wondered if many of the abused children – there had to be some, after all – went to Slytherin? Probably, he thought, one has to learn to survive and that's a Slytherin-trait...
Just then, one of the Healers, a blond, resolute woman clapped her hands, to get everyone's attention and – when having it – said in an accented voice (Canadian, Harry learned later) “Alright, children. Off to bed with you! Have a good first night's sleep! Be here at 10 am at the latest. – Luckily, it is a Saturday, so we will have two days to sort you out.” Some students groaned at that, especially the older ones.
She laughed, having teenage kids at home herself, she said “you will survive! Remember, 10 tomorrow morning!”
The boss-goblin stood before the staff table and spoke. “Please know, that due to safety reasons, the owl mail is halted till Monday, September 4th. – Hogwarts, please let the students go to their dorms.”
As they all trooped out the door, one Healer stood there and cast drying charms on the still damp first years, muttering to himself. “What is the staff thinking? Irresponsible Lot! All of them!” But since he was speaking in Spanish, no one understood. They were chatting excitedly with one another or were following the others half asleep. Most of the first years would have no recollection of how they got to their dorms and into bed, the next morning, they had been so tired.