Just Stay There {Drarry}

Chapter twenty-six

Harry had been the subject of a lot of healing done by Poppy Pomfrey. But he rarely got the chance to observe the actual healing part of the process. He was either unconscious, loony, in extreme pain, or some other factor that kept him from focusing. You'd be surprised how many there were.

Now, though, he had a front row seat. He watched with slight mystification, as Madam Pomfrey carefully dabbed a cream onto Ta-ta's bruises. The potion resembled chunky paste in the worst way possible, but it was very effective. Mere seconds after it was applied, the bruises started to fade. By the time thirty seconds had passed, the bruise all but disappeared.

They were upstairs, in one of the clinics Ta-ta had shown him on the quick tour. It resembled the inside of a white cardboard box. The dimensions were perfectly cubic, and the walls were plain, stark white. The furniture, including the 'visiting' chairs he along with the Malfoys were sitting on, seemed molded to take up as little room as possible. He had the luxury of sitting on the end seat, while Mr Malfoy and Malfoy were squished together in the middle seats. Looking back on it, that decision was probably purposeful.

Madam Pomfrey took a wet rag from the supplies tray, and began to wipe away the excess cream. She muttered something under her breath, and sat up properly with a pleased sigh. "That should do it."

"Finally," Ta-ta grumbled.

"Don't be ungrateful, you should feel lucky to have a professional tend your wounds." Madam Pomfrey snapped. It appeared that her attitude was still a tightly coiled spring. Not that Harry blamed her. He himself still felt the remnants of stress induced bitterness.

Ta-ta grumbled something else, but Madam Pomfrey shooed his words away.

"None of that, now," she said, turning back to them, "I believe I only have one of you left?"

Harry sighed and nodded. Mr Malfoy had gone first, his injuries had been the most severe. Malfoy had gone second, mostly because his friend just wanted to get this charade out of the way. Ta-ta had just gone, and he was truly the last one left.

Snape stood up, stretching out his back some as he stood. Harry could hear some of the faint pops from his spot across the room. He winced at the sound, as Ta-ta sighed in relief. They traded spots, and soon Harry was, once again, on this end of the healing process.

"There shouldn't be anything physically wrong with you." She gave him a look that said, 'and there better not be anything wrong with you'. "So we'll just have to leave it at the basic tests, the ones the younger Malfoy has just performed."

"Alright then," Harry agreed, he could handle this.

She then proceeded to take his pulse, look into his ears, tested his knee-jerk reflex, and took his height measurements. It was important to note that his height had been the shortest out of the four of them, by far. Not that he wanted to be taller than the absolute bean pole Ta-ta was. Harry didn't even come up past the man's shoulder. Other than that little unfortunate piece of information, everything was going smoothly.

And then came the eye test.

"We're going to go through two tests with this one, cher. One with your glasses, and one without. You may need an upgraded prescription, I can't imagine the last time that you had your eyes properly checked. I don't blame you, of course." Her voice took on an edge of steel, as if she was daring him to argue with her.

At the same time she was saying this, the three men waiting (somewhat)patiently on the visiting chairs, all simultaneously scowled. Not at Harry specifically, just in general. All in all, the entire effect was a little disturbing.