Albus Dumbledore's eyes began twinkling as he looked at his deputy headmistress, and Snape got the feeling that the old man knew more than he was willing to let on.
"Perhaps, but I do not think it is as farfetched as you believe."
XoX
Albus Dumbledore found himself lost in thought as he briskly walked down the halls toward the Hospital Wing. The crises caused by the troll sneaking into the castle had been averted, but not in the way he had hoped, not at all.
He had just finished a rather long string of conversations with the first year students (minus one) who had been directly involved in the incident. Hermione Granger had been the first he had seen. The poor girl had been the one who had found a teacher, Severus Snape, surprisingly, and directed him toward the female bathroom on the second floor where Harry had first rescued her from the troll. Of course, the troll and Harry had been gone by then, and they had left a clear path of destruction in their wake. Dumbledore had done his best to reassure the girl and let her know what happened had not been her fault. He had also spoken with all of Harry's friends to get there side of the story.
They had all been in a state of shock after their run in with the troll. Albus could not blame them; troll's were frightening creatures, their powerful hides, incredible physical strength, and impressive magical resistance rendered them immune to all but the most powerful of spells. Few were the wizards capable of taking down a fully grown mountain troll on their own. That Harry had done so, albeit, accidentally, was impressive.
Yet even that posed a problem. Dumbledore had not seen the site of the battle, but from what he had heard from Severus painted a grisly picture. Hannah, Lisa, Neville, Susan and Terry were all so young, only just starting their first year at Hogwarts, and yet they had already been subject to a sight that would have not looked out of place during the war against Voldemort. He could only hope what they saw during this incident did not scar their minds and give them horrible nightmares and visions.
He could only imagine how bad it would be for Harry. While his friends had been there when the troll died, Harry was the one who killed it. Granted, he'd not had much choice; the troll would have killed him and his friends had he not done what he did, but Albus was still worried. The effects that the act of killing had on the human mind were horrible, that the one who had done the deed was a child would only compound the already complicated situation.
Dumbledore's thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt when he found himself standing in front of the infirmary doors. Without a moments hesitation, he pushed them open and walked in.
He found Madam Pomfrey exactly where he expected her to be, standing over her young charge running medical scans. Albus' heart fell through his chest when he saw young Harry lying on the bed, completely inert. The boy he had first seen at the Sorting Ceremony, so full of life and brimming with confidence now looked like a small child who had just gone through hell and been spat back out. His skin was pale and sweat poured from his body. He looked nothing at all like the intelligent and powerful young man reports from his teachers made him to be.
With quick steps, Dumbledore stood before the bed where the currently comatose boy lay.
"How is he, Poppy?"
Madam Pomfrey didn't answer right away, instead choosing to continue running what Dumbledore recognized as a diagnostics scan. This didn't bother him. The woman was a healer through and through, and cared more for those under her care than she did for authority figures. He approved of that attitude. So he simply remained silent and waited until she finished.
"Surprisingly well," was the answer he got after a few moments. She turned her head to look back down at Harry and blew out a shaky breath. "Incredibly well, actually. He's healing at a phenomenal rate. If it keeps up, I suspect he will be ready for release by tomorrow afternoon at the latest."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"Normally, I would say this is a good thing, but you seem concerned."
"That is because of how injured he was coming in." Madam Pomfrey looked back up at Dumbledore, her face pensive. "When Harry was first brought to the infirmary he was nearly dead. In fact, I almost diagnosed him as dead and would have were it not for the faint heartbeat he had."
Dumbledore sucked in a breath.
"His wounds were terrible, Albus," Madam Pomfrey continued softly. "His entire ribcage had been crushed, he had several dozen bone fragments imbedded in various organs, including his lungs, spleen, stomach, pancreas, and large intestines. To top it off, his backbone had three hairline fractures running along his lower and middle back. He was just lucky his upper back had not gotten injured or his neck would have snapped."
Madam Pomfrey shook her head and looked back down at Harry....