Whelp II The Wrath of Snape

'Master Snape is not wanting youse to walk on youse ankle, okay? I brought youse clean clothes, see, Master Harry? Does youse want Nelli to help youse with your clothes?'

He shook his head again and, seating himself on the stool, started pulling on clean socks and pants. The hurt ankle felt very odd, and wouldn't bend, but he managed to get the sock on it anyway. Nelli handed him trousers next, which he wriggled in to, without putting any stress on his ankle, and then a shirt, the easiest thing to put on, though he made sure the bleeding had stopped on his scratches before he did, so the shirt wouldn't stain, too. The shirt was pale blue, with a collar and only a couple buttons, and was clean and soft, softer than a freak like him deserved.

'Youse wait here, Master Harry, and Nelli is going to get Mistress Pomfrey.'

'Okay,' Harry said and folded his hands in his lap to wait. 'Thank you, Nelli.'

It was only a few minutes later that Madam Pomfrey's voice came from doorway of the bedroom, 'Harry? May I come in?'

'Yes, ma'am,' Harry said, but his voice was hoarse, and he coughed to clear it. 'Sorry, Madam Pomfrey,' he said a little louder. 'Please come in.'

The Medi-witch appeared in the bathroom door, her face creased with worry, probably because of his ankle. 'Let's get you somewhere more comfortable, shall we?' she said, and drew her wand. An instant later, Harry was floating in the air, almost like flying, except without a broom. But he couldn't even get excited about that, not now.

Madam Pomfrey floated him over to his bed, and settled him against pillows propped up behind him. 'Your House-elf told me your ankle was injured. I'm going to remove this sock and see what I can do for it, and while I do, why don't you tell me what happened?'

'I fell, Madam Pomfrey,' Harry said. He kept his hands in his lap and didn't look her in the eye, because he wasn't allowed to. He knew that. Freaks weren't like people, after all. But just then, Treacle Tart leaped up on the bed, sauntered over to him and walked up his legs as if she still liked him. She settled herself in his lap, on top of his hands, and purred and purred, till his eyes filled with tears again and he had to blink real fast to hold them in. He wanted to hug her close, bury his face in her fur and never look up again, but Madam Pomfrey was still talking to him.

'When did you fall?'

'Before lunch, ma'am.'

'Where?' she asked as she removed his sock and ran her wand over the ankle.

'Outside, ma'am. On the rocks.' He didn't mention the snake this time, since Father said that was to be a secret. Treacle butted her head against his arm, and he pulled a hand out from under her so he could pet her soft fur and scratch gently at her ears like she liked.

With a frown, Madam Pomfrey said, 'This ankle has been damaged before.'

'Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry.'

Her frown deepened. 'Is your father in class?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'When did he put your ankle in the Body Bind?' He looked up quickly, confused, and she said, 'When did he make it all stiff?'

'Oh. Before lunch, ma'am.'

'Did he check it again before he went to class?'

'No, ma'am.'

She waved her wand over his ankle a couple more times, and said some weird words almost under her breath. Pain flared all of a sudden, in his ankle, and he sucked in a tight breath. That made his lower back twinge, but he made sure not to wince or flinch away. That only provoked more trouble, he knew. But almost as soon as it started, the pain eased in his ankle, all the way down to a dull throb, followed by a pins and needles sensation, like his foot was waking up. The prickly feeling wasn't too awful, and he relaxed a bit against the pillows. Sweat had broken out on his forehead, though, and he swiped that away, feeling a little nauseous.

'What did you eat for lunch?' she asked. When,