When Harry returned to Nair'icaix, he found that the hustle and bustle had calmed down somewhat in his entrance hall and that all the patients seemed to be comfortably settled. A small team of nurses seemed to be on duty, seeing to the patients' needs and comfort. Hopefully, he would be able to have them all transported back to Britain as soon as possible. The hospital had fortunately not sustained any serious damage.
Not seeing anyone he recognized, Harry slowly made his way up to the master suite. He entered the room to find Bellatrix reading a small book while sitting in a rocking chair that she had acquired a few days earlier.
As soon as she became aware of his presence, she put the book down on a table and jumped up with a concerned expression painted on her beautiful face. "No injuries?" she asked as she glided over to him and absently touched him as if making sure he wasn't hiding anything.
"Nothing physical." Harry said despondently.
Bellatrix frowned. "What do you mean, dear?"
Harry briefly explained his short confrontation with Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, and to some extent the Order. "I've never blamed them for believing me guilty based on the evidence they had." Harry concluded. "It's just that deep down, I expected that they would at least listen to my side of the story."
"They'll be forced to realize their mistake quite soon." Bellatrix predicted. "You're the Lord of Polairix. They can't shut you up forever."
"Doesn't mean I feel any better about it." Harry mumbled.
A cushioned table abruptly appeared next to where the couple was standing. Bellatrix walked over and patted it with a quirky grin. "Strip and get on the table, Harry." she instructed. "It's time for your massage and therapy session with Dr. Bella."
Harry eyed the table suspiciously. "Strip as in 'naked?' What if someone walks in?"
Bellatrix rolled her eyes and promptly conjured a fluffy white towel which she tossed into Harry's face. "You can cover yourself with that."
Section break
Hermione noisily vomited for the third time that night. Watching Malfoy Sr. have his head removed had instantly traumatized her. After Ron had helped calm her down, the image of the sorcerer using his blade to do the deed kept playing through her mind. She hoped Ron would forgive her for getting sick on his pants.
"Are you okay?" Ginny asked, knocking on the open door to the bathroom at Grimmauld Place. "Ron says that you're a bit under the weather."
"How did you get here?" Hermione asked as she glanced up at Ginny, unsteadily regained her feet, and pulled the lever on the magical toilet. "Isn't it a bit late?"
Ginny shook her head. "Early, you mean. It's nearly dawn. Professor Dumbledore thought that I might appreciate being able to visit everybody for a short while to see that they're okay. He brought me here with him. I'll be returning to Hogwarts after the emergency meeting."
"Right." Hermione said in what she hoped was a brisk sounding voice. She had nearly forgot about the meeting. "I'd better go and join them before they get started."
"I'll come with you." Ginny volunteered. The two teenage girls quickly fell in pace beside each other as they made their way down toward the kitchen where most meetings were held. "I heard that you saw Malfoy get beheaded. Who did it?"
Hermione fought down the rising sickness in her stomach before answering. "You heard correctly. The 'Count of Trazkaban' did it. I think he's a sorcerer."
"I've never heard of a sorcerer by that name. Where did he come from?" Ginny asked.
"I think he works for Harry." Hermione responded absently as they descended a flight of stairs.
Ginny stopped short on the bottom step. "Harry? What about him? Is there something that nobody is telling me?"
"I guess I shouldn't have said that." Hermione said as a blush tinged her cheeks. She then quickly explained to the younger girl about Harry's arrival at the battle and how the Count had been with Harry and deferring to him.
"Evil attracts evil." Ginny said, trying to imitate a wise sage. "I honestly didn't think that Harry would work for Voldemort, but I'm not surprised that he's out there for himself."
Although Hermione agreed with Ginny, she still couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at their newest analysis of Harry's personality. Some of the things that Malfoy had said bothered her, but she decided to think about it later once they arrived at the kitchen's entrance.
She bid Ginny farewell as she entered the room the Order had deigned as its meeting place. Although she and Ron had been allowed to join up, Mrs. Weasley had adamantly insisted that her only daughter be excluded from the select group. Hermione smiled fondly at the matron who was now engaged in a heated discussion.
"It's unwise to provoke people, Ron! If what you say about that fire curse is true, Harry is extremely powerful, not to mention being the Lord of Polairix. I can't understand why Dumbledore would even let you try to confront that murderer."
"It was only Harry, Mum." Ron said, rolling his eyes.
Mrs. Weasley was ready to retort when Dumbledore, Moody, and Shacklebolt entered the kitchen from the hall. The auror was just concluding some sort of status report to Dumbledore. "Overall, nobody was able to turn anything up."
"What up?" Mrs. Weasley demanded. "Don't tell me that you didn't even come close to catching Potter!"
Moody grinned at her. "I won't then."
...
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