When he realized that the story was going to be told whether he liked it or not, Dumbledore stepped forward and crouched down next to Harry's bed. "Try to understand Harry... You were going to be living with the Dursleys, and they don't appreciate magic. You were floating, turning things blue, and Vanishing vegetables. You were a magical terror of a baby. Of course your parents were extremely proud of it all, but Petunia and Vernon would've put you in an orphanage the very first time it happened. I wanted to give the Dursleys a chance to love you like the family that they are. That's the reason why I asked an associate of mine to brew a potion to bind your magic for a few years. It seems I seriously misjudged the man's character."
At this point, Dumbledore's teeth were about to shatter from the way he was gritting them.
For Hermione's sake, Harry kept his aura light even as his reply to Dumbledore was not. "Headmaster... If you thought that those... people... would ever come to love me... then your associate wasn't the only person you judged poorly."
Dumbledore blanched, then started to say something in his own defense, but he was interrupted when Madam Pomfrey stepped in front of him.
After physically pulling Harry's attention away from Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey turned to give the Headmaster the stink eye over her shoulder. While the man definitely had some explaining to do, now wasn't the time. Harry's anxiety was slipping into his aura and Pomfrey needed to explain the situation so that he'd calm back down. Turning back around, Madam Pomfrey locked eyes with her charge and prepared to explain a great many things.
"Listen carefully, Harry," Pomphrey demanded as calmly as she could. "The person who brewed your binding potion created a very rare variation that's both extremely illegal to make and far too immoral to administer. He gave you a potion called Eramus Servientus. This potion is used on extremely strong and dangerous magical beasts to permanently bind their magic inside their cores. If it's used on a wizard... any wizard, then they're immediately rendered into a squib if not killed outright from shock."
As Madam Pomfrey continued her explanation, Harry found himself becoming more and more confused. "Uhhh. Madam Pomfrey," he began slowly, with intense levels of confusion written on his face. "I know I'm not the best student in my year, but I'm not a squib either. If I focus hard enough, I'm definitely capable of performing magic… How can I be?..."
For perhaps the first time since she'd performed her diagnostic spell, Madam Pomfrey smiled, as she patted Harry softly on his shoulder. "Harry... That's exactly why I just said you're a miracle… You shouldn't have been able to use magic at all and that would've been the ideal outcome for an adult wizard. Circumstances are much, much more dire for any poor infant administered that particular potion... There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to be blunt... Harry Potter you should be long dead."
At Harry's blank look, Pomfrey rubbed his hand and gave him a soft, warm smile. "Let me try to explain, Harry. First of all, wizards aren't merely people with magic inside of them. Wizards are their magic, period. Magic isn't just something we can access and use, but rather it's incorporated in our very souls, incorporated in our bodies, and it's just as vital to us as our life's blood is. Unlike muggles or non magical creatures, wizards NEED their magic just to grow and develop as they age. A normal wizard is completely saturated in their own magic as they grow older, which is the reason why we're so comparatively healthy, strong and long lived. I can't even begin to explain the wide variety of ways the binding on your core has stunted and damaged your body up until this point."
Madam Pomfrey shook her head and looked at the floor as she continued. "The common Accidental magic potions that are usually given to babies only suppress extra magic that can lead to inconvenient accidental spells and such. Those potions leave behind plenty of magic for the babies in question to develop at a normal pace. What you were given, Harry..." Madam Pomfrey shook her head again and wiped away a stray tear. "You shouldn't have been able to grow at all, have normal useful organs, develop the brain you have, the coordination, thought, all of it. You should've died a mass of undeveloped organs and tissues by the age of three or four at the most."
Hermione was beginning to cry at this point, so Harry took the time to project how much he loved her for punching Malfoy in the face earlier that night.
While Harry's efforts to cheer her up were well intentioned, all he'd managed to do was make Hermione feel worse. Harry was such a good, kind person, and he always had to suffer like this. The injustice of it all was making her cry, and Harry's kind attention was just fuel on the fire.
While it didn't look like it was working, Harry tried to stay positive as he asked the question that needed asking. "So, then... How am I alive?"