When Harry returned to his quarters, he rummaged around and found a bottle of firewhiskey. With a sigh, he dropped himself in an armchair and poured himself a tall glass. I guess I've screwed it up, he decided morosely. Voldemort is going to be after me specificallynow .
Not wanting to feel sorry for himself, Harry jumped, or lurched, from the chair and walked over to his bathroom and studied his reflection in the mirror. Apparently he'd cut up his face pretty good when escaping through the hole he had blasted in the side of Voldemort's house. He set down his glass of firewhiskey on the sink counter and washed up as best he could without taking a full shower.
He was just trying to decide whether he wanted to look at where he'd gotten cut on his torso when the door to his quarters opened and Bellatrix limped in. Harry glanced at her briefly and turned back to the mirror, but he spun around almost immediately after that and took a second-glance. "What happened?" he asked, quite shocked at the condition she was in. He saw that her face was covered with blood, her left shoulder sat at an odd angle, and that she seemed to have a very difficult time standing.
"They figured I was spying," Bellatrix slurred. "Barely got away."
Harry sighed. Apparently they'd both been stupid and had paid the consequence to varying degrees. "We'd better get you up to the hospital wing," Harry mused.
Bellatrix seemed to consider this proposition for a moment. "Not yet," she said slowly, still slightly slurring her words. "It's complicated. Find some medical supplies. I'll clean up."
Harry winced, feeling uncomfortable with the idea of not taking Bellatrix to the hospital wing. On the other hand, he too had encountered situations where he had not wanted to go to the hospital wing. Bellatrix's judgment could probably be trusted-she wasn't a fool.
"Okay," he said, making for the door. "I'll be back as soon as possible."
"Harry," Bellatrix called weakly.
"Yes," Harry asked.
"My ribs really hurt. Better make sure to get some tape."
Harry winced and swiftly left the room, closing and locking the door behind him. He had encountered rib injuries in his time, and they weren't fun. Remarkably, he was able to find most of the things he needed without having to visit the hospital wing. He had planned on the potions she'd need to be most difficult, but as school potions master, it turned out that Harry had access to a wide variety of brewed potions.
He returned to his quarters and found Bellatrix standing in front of the bathroom mirror, aimlessly trying to wipe her face with a wet rag. Harry set down the things he had gathered on a table and swiftly walked over to help her. "Here, let me," he said, taking the rag from her. In short order, her face was clean, save for the cut inflicted by a spell. He was able to take care of that with little difficulty. She seemed inordinately pleased with her clean face and beamed at Harry's reflection in the mirror. "You're wonderful!" she slurred.
Harry frowned. "You're acting drunk," he muttered. Harry remembered his tall glass of firewhiskey, and his eyes flitted to where he had left it. The glass was now completely empty. "You didn't waste any time," Harry commented. "I guess you're going to need it. We've got your shoulder to deal with."
Bellatrix stared at herself in the mirror while Harry gingerly took hold of Bellatrix's shoulder. "All right, we'll try to make this quick," Harry announced loudly. She didn't seem to notice, so Harry took that as a good sign. When he yanked and popped the shoulder back into its socket, Bellatrix gasped loudly and nearly fell over, though was caught by Harry.
She managed to recover her balance and leaned back toward the mirror, staring at Harry's reflection. Apparently she had confused his reflection for the real thing. "My ribs," she slurred. "Tape them up good."
She lifted her hands and began fumbling with the buttons of her tattered blouse. Harry sighed and returned to the table where he had left the medical tape. He'd had his ribs taped up before, but he had never tried to help someone else with it. By the time he returned with the tape, Bellatrix had managed to undo only two buttons. Feeling rather like a cad, Harry set the tape down on the counter, reached around her, and unbuttoned the other buttons. He then helped her remove the shirt. Normally, he reckoned he would have ended up staring at her bra-clad chest, but apparently, she had been injured on her back. It was a bloody mess-literally.
"Looks like they nailed you from behind," Harry commented, feeling a little faint.
"My back too," Bellatrix said.
"Right," Harry said. He grabbed the rag and began mopping at it, wincing all the while. In short order, it was free of blood. Harry grabbed some ointment from the table and applied it to her back liberally after performing the best healing charms he could think of.
"Now your ribs," Harry said.
"Yep." Bellatrix said.
Harry could tell that she was losing her last strength and so tried to make the ribs quick. It appeared that she had only been hit lower-down, so not very many ribs were in bad shape. With a little bit of coaxing on his part and her gracious acquiescence to his requests, Harry was soon done. "Well," Harry said, "you're right as rain, now."
"Yep," she repeated, staring intently at Harry's reflection with an odd expression on her face.
Harry decided that he'd better put her to bed in his quarters. If she had had a falling out with Slytherin students, sending her to her dorm would probably be a bad idea. It would cause a school scandal if anyone found out, but Harry reckoned he might be able to head it off by contacting Orion early in the morning and explaining the situation.
Leaving Bellatrix to stare at herself in the mirror, Harry went to his clothes closet and found a spare set of pajama tops. He returned to Bellatrix and put them on her. He then managed to get her to down doses of several different potions before leading her to his bed. "Time for you to sleep," Harry said.
Bellatrix crawled into Harry's bed and Harry draped the covers over her, smiling awkwardly as she stared up into his eyes.
"Good night," Harry said.
Bellatrix smiled and continued staring up at him, her violet eyes shining.
"Right," Harry said, breaking contact with her eyes, leaving her, and returning to his chair. He felt guilty for not changing her completely into pajamas, but he reckoned he's already gone pretty far. She can complain later, Harry reckoned. Maybe even take care of the situation herself by that time .
He considered pouring himself another glass of the firewhiskey, but decided against it. One of them was going to need to retain control of their senses. Harry glanced toward the sink counter and the empty firewhiskey glass. Could that much make her that drunk so quickly? He sighed. Apparently. Maybe she was in shock, too.
Harry sat back and returned to contemplating the situation. What are we to do now?
....
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