Struggling with Strangers

"Telekinesis," he said smugly.

"That is science fiction, Harry. It's not real," she said as she shook her head.

"And magic is? How is that logical?" the boy sneered, already getting tired of debating everything with this girl.

"Okay, I see your point, but, Harry, the opposite is true," she argued, folding her arms as she continued to follow them to the medical area.

"Oh," was all he had to say as he stopped he fruitless struggle.

They got to the Wing and Hagrid put Harry on a bed. "I've got ter… er… go and feed the animals," the half-giant stuttered out, when green eyes looked at him with betrayal, making him quickly leave the room.

The boy looked around and saw the old man was laying on a bed on the other side of the wing, near where he had hit the wall. His emerald eyes narrowed as he tried to stab the man's head with just a look. Perhaps giving him an aneurism, or at the very least a huge bloody headache.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," McGonagall snapped, when she saw him glare at the Headmaster, "hurting him in such a way that he is unconscious."

"I don't know why everyone is getting up my nose. He violated my mind. It was self-defense," Harry snarled, his eyes never leaving the prone man.

"As headmaster he has a right to do what he needs to do to help and protect the children of this school, which you happen to be one of," the old woman responded fiercely, not that she like the way Albus did what he did, however it was within his privileges as a headmaster.

"Let me get this straight, it is okay for him to go around, imprisoning students, and peeking into people's minds. Just like that, even if they say no? What about my rights?" Harry asked as he turned to look at her with an incredulous look.

"You are a minor, you do not have rights," she stated primly, which was completely true, and as an orphan he had fewer than most children.

"So you are saying I can't defend myself?" he all but shouted. 'Maybe that kid was right, and you can't trust adults,' he thought as he glared in the woman's direction.

"Of course you can, what I am saying is that Albus did not do anything for you to defend yourself from," McGonagall huffed, not understanding what the issue was. If the child would just cooperate then he would be well in short order.

"Bugger this, I'm out of here," our hero stated, only to be spelled to the bed by all three females. His pants didn't budge, his legs were frozen, and wraps sprung from the mattress holding his arms down.

"You will stay right where you are, young man," Poppy Pomfrey stated as she waved her wand to check to make sure he was uninjured from his flight. Seeing he was fine, she went back to the Headmaster, to make sure his injuries were healing.

"Why should I?" he demanded as he watched her walk away, and if he could've moved his arms, he would've folded them. Just who the fuck did these people think they were tying him down like a criminal. When he got out of here there was no way he was coming back.

"Well," Hermione started as she sat on the foot of his bed, making him want to kick her off for sticking him to it, "for one, you're safe here. Two, you get three meals a day, a bed to sleep in and it's already paid for. Three, you have to stay and compete in the tournament or you will lose your magic," she finished counting each on her fingers, hoping he would listen to reason.

If he had been living on the streets these things should appeal to him. She felt bad for immobilizing him, but he needed to be here where people could protect him. She shuttered at the thought that a Death Eater could have found him when he was gone.

"That is the third time someone has mention this tournament," Harry said, trying to get his hands free. Maybe if he could get them talking he could break free like he had before. "What is it and why do I have to compete? I don't give a rat's ass about 'magic'," he finished, causing the three women to look at one another. That's not good.

"The Tri-wizard Tournament is a competition between the three most premier magic schools in Europe. The Goblet of Fire picks a champion from each school. This year there was an age limit of seventeen, but for some reason, four people were picked and you were one of them," Hermione hurriedly explained.

"Did I do something as stupid as enter myself?" he asked, trying to call up his telekinetic powers to break the bonds holding his arms. So far they only seemed to work when he was threatened in some way, but right now they were silent.

"I don't believe so. I saw your face when your name was called, you were completely shocked. I think that might be one of the reasons you've lost your memories," she said thoughtfully. "Though retrograde amnesia is usually caused by a blow to the head," she said, looking at the nurse, who was fussing over Dumbledore.

"I don't believe that was the cause," the nurse said, "but that is all I can divulge. Patient confidentiality," she stated firmly and went back to tending Albus, who was starting to come around.

Hermione nodded at that and gave a confused look to her friend, and asked, "What do you remember?"

"I remember waking up in a cold alley, then the week on the streets of London. People talking about wizards and magic, there was even mention of goblins," he said, closing his eyes trying to see if he could get past that wall, and then he let out a frustrated sigh when that was all he could recall.

"Wait, did you not tell me that you remembered a 'creepy man' yelling at you and making you run away?" the Transfiguration Teacher asked, looking startled.

Harry shrugged, "If I did, I don't remember it now," he said, then worried that his loss of memory was getting worse.

"Poppy, did you leave Severus alone with Mr. Potter at any time?" the old woman asked, looking at the nurse.

"Only for a second, surely not long enough to do any damage," Pomfrey replied.

"You mean someone else messed with my mind? Just what kind of fucked up school are you running here?" Harry yelled and started his struggles anew.

"Language," came the reprimand of three female voices.

"Fuck you," the trapped boy snarled.

"Harry, calm down, we don't know for sure if anyone took that memory or if it's part of your… condition," Hermione said, knowing full well amnesia didn't work that way.

"I'll bloody well calm down when people stop messing with my mind in the madhouse."

"Mr. Potter, where are your glasses and wand?" McGonagall inquired, hoping to quiet the boy down and change the subject until Albus could contribute.

He saw right through her ploy, but sagged on the bed and answered. "Well, my glasses got stolen three times. I couldn't really sit on them to prevent that. And if you mean the stick that was in my pockets, well, I threw it away, didn't I? I mean, how was I to know it was some sort of super tricorder," he said sheepishly, trying to remember which alley he threw it away in.

"Oh, Harry," the bushy-haired girl moaned as she put her head in her hands.

"What is a tricorder?" the teacher asked, not going into the disposal of the wand. That was another thing for Albus to handle.

"It's from an American television show," Hermione groaned, and then shrugged and added, "It's a Muggle thing."

"Well, I can at least fix the missing glasses," the nurse stated as came to their side of the room. She transfigured some frames and added glass, and with a wave of her wand, she made them self-updating prescription lenses. "These will hold you until you get to Diagon Alley or St. Mungo's," she stated, handing the temporary spectacles over.

The boy looked at her, then at his fettered arms, and then at her again. She blushed and put them on for him. He blinked to clear his sight after going for a week without glasses, and glared at everyone in the room.

Now that he could see, his piercing green eyes were direct, and they knew he was angry with each and every one of them. "How long are you going to hold me prisoner?" he asked with a snarl.

"Mr. Potter, it is for your own good. There are people who want you dead. You need to stay here where you are safe," the old woman stated, looking over her glasses at him as if she could keep him in the bed with her stare.

"Right, don't remember a thing," he said with a shrug, his glare not lessening a bit.

"That does not negate the fact that they will still try and kill you," she snapped, getting tired of his attitude.

Two things happened right then, two men came through the door, and Albus woke up.

"Oh ho, I see our youngest champion is awake," the largest of the men stated. "How are you, Harry, my boy," he asked jovially.

"Great, another fucking happy adult," Harry moaned and thumped his head back onto his pillow.

.....

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