Harry Potter gets smart and takes control - The Goblet

Chapter 42 Recovery Discoveries

Harry spent the next 12 hours in a healing coma in the Gringotts infirmary. His bones had been regrown. It would have been agonising if they had not taken the opportunity to do it while he was unconscious.

The process had evolved a lot of finicky paralysis spells to keep everything in place while they vanished all the bones that had to be replaced. Thankfully, he slept through the worst of the Skele-Gro pain.

He woke up groggy, slowly fighting his way from the dark cloud of exhaustion that was trying to pull him under again.

He felt like an overexposed, raw nerve; over sensitive. That was the first thing he noticed. Then he noticed his bones aching. His hands really had been burned in the ritual somehow. They were heavily bandaged and smelt of Dittany and Mertlap Essence, to name a few.

Harry blinked and looked around. He could sense only one person in the room. A goblin that did not feel like Rodgrip. Harry blinked again, his brain feeling fuzzy, not sure suddenly, how to politely get a goblins attention if you weren't meant to speak first...

He sat up on the surprisingly comfortable and soft, stone bed, swinging his aching legs over the side, feeling around blindly for his glasses. The goblin spun around and came towards him, making Harry flinch.

The goblin shoved something into his hands. His glasses. He put them on as the strange goblin made a pinching motion near him. Harry pulled back sharply, wide eyed, at the sudden movement. Not even concisely aware of raising his arms in defence. The goblin just looked at him sharply, as if to say 'you idiot,' waiting for him to lower his hands. Harry did so partially, glaring at the goblin defensively. The goblin rolled his eyes and then repeated the motion and peered at something just to the left of his left ear and nodded before leaving.

Harry blinked.

A moment later, Rodgrip reappeared.

"Riptooth has checked you over," Rodgrip said, "Your bones are fixed, the foreign magic is gone. You're are almost free. You are almost well."

Harry nodded groggily, not feeling anything at all.

"You have an appointment on Wednesday night at 10 o'clock. It is now Monday night. We shall then talk about what further healing you need and look at your vaults and claiming them properly." Rodgrip said.

Harry nodded.

"I expect from how you are trying to get off the bed that you wish to return to your lodgings?" Rodgrip asked, "do you need Cursebreaker Weasley to escort you? I can have him woken."

Harry shook his head, "I'll be okay. Thanks, though."

He didn't want anyone to know he was living in his mum's trunk on a rooftop.

There was a pop, and he stumbled as he jumped. He winced as a small hand, steadied him. Everything ached. He felt like he had the flu again.

"Dobby and Winky, be looking after Little Master Harry Potter sir!" The elf squeaked.

"Thank's Dobby," Harry said, tiredly trying in vain to force the exhaustion back.

"Make sure he gets plenty of rest and good food," the healer, Riptooth, said to Dobby, coming back into the room. "Lots of that nutrient potion he was on before if he's not to eat. A mouthful every hour while he's this poorly. A full bottle if he skips a meal; at least until I see him on Wednesday night. And don't use your magic yet!" He directed at Harry.

Dobby nodded, his ears flapping and popped away with an exhausted and bewildered Harry. They reappeared on the roof he'd been staying on. His trunk was already set-up and warded. Dobby and Winky must have done it... he thought distantly.