Harry Riddle || Harry potter

Chapter 38: Posturing Is Key

"Now, Mister Riddle," said Poppy Pomfrey solicitously, "don't overexert yourself, and try as hard as you can to avoid stubbing your toes."

Harry eyed his bare feet with distaste. "I thought you'd healed it."

"I did, but frostbite is a fairly severe thing, even though you didn't get the worst of it. It was just superficial, not deep. But, even then, those remaining little ice crystals in your skin will damage the tissue surrounding it if they're jarred. And we wouldn't want that, would we?"

Harry made a noise of repulsion deep in his throat. "Can I wiggle them?"

"I don't see any reason why you couldn't, but just slightly." Pomfrey flitted around the room, collecting potions to give to him and frowning at the abundance of candy on the bedside tables. "You should keep it warm-you know how chilly it is in this castle, even in the summer-but don't wrap it too tight. We want the blood circulating, don't we?"

"You're the mediwitch."

"Yes, I am. And you'd do well to listen to me when I say that you shouldn't eat all of this candy, but I doubt you will. You're too much like your parents-stubborn, the both of them."

Harry's eyes widened, and his shoulders stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Pomfrey held up a vial of purple liquid. "Take this tonight before you get into bed. It will help-"

"What did you say about my-my parents?"

"I said that you are like them in many respects, stubbornness, disobedience and impertinence being just three of them. Now, this red one you should take with your next meal-"

"But how could you possibly know-?"

"I remember Tom Riddle quite well, young man. I was new here then, but he broke his leg one day during quidditch and was laid up for awhile. Quite a charming boy, if I recall correctly." She sighed and pursed her lips. "A wolf in sheep's clothing, if I may borrow the muggle expression."

Harry stared at her, too shocked to blink. "So, you know that he's . . .?"

"You-Know-Who? Of course I do. I saw him briefly during the First War, though hopefully I'll never be in that position again. Quite terrifying. This should be taken tomorrow morning-"

"But my mother?" he cut in anxiously. "No one-"

"You have Lily Evans's eyes, without a doubt. I can't believe Minerva or Filius haven't noticed, but I suppose that what one doesn't want to see will not be seen."

"Wouldn't you not want to see?" he asked, oddly awkward. Harry was usually smooth in most situations, or as smooth as an eleven year old could be. Still, the past days had left him more than a little off balance, and discussing his parents was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Why shouldn't I? I can't change what happened so many years ago. Lily is dead, and I'm sorry to say that its her own fault. She was a nice girl, but not particularly outstanding.

"On the other hand, your father-if I may be so blunt, Mister Riddle-is a monster. He's killed so many, in the name of what? Blood purity? When he himself could be labeled a "mudblood", excuse the term? When the mother of his heir is of muggle parents? It is possibly the most hypocritical crusade I have ever heard of."

"Oi, why don't you just sod-" began Harry angrily, but Pomfrey interrupted him.

"Still, though, I suppose a Dark Lord, or any sort of 'politician', has to have a platform. Slytherin to the core, he is, don't you think?"

Harry sniffed. "Proudly."

Pomfrey smiled slightly and continued. "However, I can hardly say that You-Know-Who is any less moral than, shall we say, Grindelwald. His campaign has simply been more successful."