523Summary: A muggle nurse meets Harry PotterMaggie walked into the hospital room. Her heart broke at the sight that greeted her. There was a young boy sitting in the bed. He couldn't be older than five or six. He had the most beautiful green eyes and the cutest tousled black hair. He was here for a broken arm, but the doctor treating him asked Maggie to come talk to him.
She wasn't sure why, but when she walked closer to the bed, she saw bruises up and down both of his arms, and she got it. Maggie had been abused as a child, and it was in her file. They always thought she could get through to the children due to understanding what it felt like. Unfortunately, that understanding only helped about 25% of the time.
"Hello. You're name's Harry, right?" Maggie tried to give the youth her best smile even though she felt like curling up and crying.
The young boy nodded. His eyes showed his fear.
"My name is Maggie. I'm a nurse here."
He gave a half-smile and silent.
"How old are you?"
Harry's voice was quiet when he said, "Eight."
Maggie did the best to keep the surprise out of her face. She had pegged him as much younger. His growth was stunted and the thoughts about how that might have happened in the hands of his "loving" family disturbed her greatly. "Did your mum and dad bring you here?"
Harry shook his head. "My parents were killed in a car crash, but I'm not allowed to talk about them. I live with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon."
Maggie nodded. She was beginning to understand it. Obviously, Harry's caregivers had some kind of problem with his parents, and those problems influenced their actions towards Harry. It was disgusting that they'd vent their feelings on an innocent child. Absolutely horrid!
Maggie walked closer. "So, where did you get all of those marks on your arms?"
"I fell," he said, pokerfaced.
"You know, sometimes parents or aunts and uncles are mean. They do things that are wrong. Those things can be hitting, scratching, pinching, pushing, or even kicking. Sometimes, kids feel like it's their fault, and it's their job to protect their family. That's never true, though. It's never the child's fault. And it's important that the child tells someone what's going on. Otherwise, they may never get the help they need."
Harry stared at Maggie, and she knew those eyes. She had seen them in countless kids before him. No matter what Maggie said, he'd never tell.
Maggie smiled sadly. "If you change your mind, you can call the hospital, tell a teacher, or some other adult that you trust. All we want is to help you."
Maggie turned and walked out of the hospital room. She'd go to Child Protective Services and file a complaint. Hopefully they'd look into it. Maggie wouldn't hold her breath, though. They got so many calls about suspicious bruises, some kids fell through the cracks. It was depressing, but unfortunately, it was very true.
Hopefully, Harry would find the strength to seek out help. Hopefully, before it was too late.