A Tale of Two Brothers

Chapter 31

Harry woke up to the sound of furious screams. It took him a moment to realize that it was his parents who were shouting.

"Just look at what he has done, Albus!"

"I know, my dear–"

"We trusted you–"

"I promise it won't happen ever–"

"I don't want that man near my son ever again."

"I can promise you that, Lily. I assure you; Moody won't be even stepping in this house as long as Harry lives here."

"Thank you for that, but he won't be staying here any longer." The quietness of his dad's voice could not hide the rage in it. If Dumbledore spoke another word, he had hell coming.

The events before he lost consciousness came back to him. There was a ghosting pain in his head, exactly where he had hit the table. Goddamn Moody. His head and wrists were bandaged, and he could smell the faint scent of the healing salve underneath them. How long was he unconscious anyways?  He shifted a bit to get a look of wherever he was. 

"Mr. Potter, you are awake." A man in healer's robes came near him the exact moment and casted some spells over him to check his vitals. Only once he was satisfied, the healer let the two worried parents sit beside him on the bed. Dumbledore joined the group, standing a few feet away from them.

"How is he, Robin?" His mom looked like she wanted to hold him but was refraining herself from doing so. Harry looked away from her, staring at the healer in front of him. He remembered the man. Robin Wilkens. Whenever Harry used to accompany his mom to St. Mungo's, this was the man whom she delivered her potions to. He had never thought of him as someone who would work for the Order. 

"He's fine now, Lily. The wound from the injury might sting a little for a day or two, but other than that, everything else seems fine." The man gave him a small apologetic smile. "You'll have headaches and feel dizzy for a couple of days too."

Harry nodded and pushed himself up in a sitting position. His body ached from the movement. "How long was I out for?" 

"Just a few hours. Dumbledore called us as soon as you..." His mom trailed, looking troubled and angry.

"I've had worse things happen to me. This is nothing. Please stop fretting over it now. Just don't let that man ever be in my sight again. I swear–"

"We get it, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore cut him off, smiling thankfully at the Healer.

The man in green robes had gone silent and was now staring at him with horror-filled eyes.

"Healer Wilkens?" The old man asked.

Wilkens did not say anything. He just kept staring at him. A bit conscious, Harry looked down at himself, wondering what was wrong. He realized that someone had changed him from his previous clothes. Immediately, his eyes snapped towards his unclothed arm. 

"He... The dark mark." The healer whispered. "How?"

"Robin, I think you should leave." His mom said frantically. "We can talk about this later."

"Healer Wilkens--" Dumbledore tried to speak.

"Lily, your son's a Death Eater." The man said, his eyes not moving away from Harry. Suddenly, Wilkens raised his wand and pointed it at him. "You-know-who is dead. How is this possible?" His words then turned sharper. "What are you doing here? This is the Order's quarters."

"I guess I was invited here." Harry said simply.

"Robin, put your wand down! We know, alright!"

"Are you with him then!? Are you with the Death Eaters now!? You're a traitor, Potter! Should've known something was not right when you called up suddenly in the middle of the night! And you! Dumbledore! How did he get the mark!?" The man then turned pale. "Wait-- this means... You-know-who is alive." Somehow, his face turned even more ashen. "Or did he ever die? What is happening? Who are you--"