The same but different

Chapter 7 cursed

One rainy afternoon in the middle of October, Harry ducked out of lunch early, exhausted by Hermione's stilted attempts to mend the rift between him and Ron. He appreciated what she was doing, but it would probably be better for everyone if she just left them drift, as teenage friendships were wont to do. He would always be grateful for everything Ron had done for him over the years, and he was still on great terms with the twins, but he and Ron were just... such different people these days. Harry, quite literally.

Instead of wandering the castle aimlessly until Divination, Harry decided to tick another thing off his to-do list - he headed up to the hospital wing, hoping Madam Pomfrey wasn't busy with her own lunch. He was in luck; the mediwitch was stocking some potion vials in a cabinet, and she looked up in surprise when he entered. "Mr Potter!" she greeted. "What sort of trouble have you got yourself into now? You don't look injured."

Harry laughed. "Can't I come to see you without needing you to fix me?" he teased, earning a pointedly raised eyebrow. "Fine, fine. Are you busy? I can come back another time-" She shook her head, setting down the last few vials.

"It's nothing that won't keep. Have a seat." She gestured to the end of one of the beds, and Harry hopped up onto it, swinging his legs absently. "What can I do for you, Potter?"

"I was talking to Neville the other day," Harry began, setting the scene for his supposedly innocent inquiry, "and he mentioned something about a vaccine he got as a kid? And it made me wonder - I know my parents probably got me everything I needed while they were still alive, but what about after? And I've never really had a proper medical check-up before - is that... is that something you can do?"

With every word he spoke, Pomfrey's brows drew closer and closer together, her lips pursing in distinct disapproval. "Did your guardians never take you for your vaccinations?"

"I live with my muggle aunt and uncle," Harry explained. "They didn't tell me anything about magic until I got my Hogwarts letter."

Surprised flickered across the matron's face, and she clucked her tongue. "Right. Well. To answer your question, yes, I can do a full medical check-up, when asked by a patient. I'm surprised you haven't asked for one before now, with all the times you've been through my doors."

"I suppose it didn't occur to me to ask," Harry said with a shrug. "My guardians never really bothered taking me to the doctor or anything, and I've always been fine."

Pomfrey's eyes narrowed even further. With a wave of her wand, a clipboard flew to hover at her shoulder, a quill floating above it. "Sit still, please, Mr Potter." He was stock-still as she cast diagnostic spells over him in a soft murmur, the quill jumping into action to record the results. She looked into his eyes with a lumos spell, then checked his throat and ears, then tapped his glasses with her wand. "Date of last eye test?"

"Oh, uh - early October, 1987, I think? A lady came to our primary school, told the Dursleys I needed glasses. She gave me these for free," Harry supplied, inwardly smirking at the outrage the mediwitch couldn't hide. Oh, Dumbledore was in for a thrashing.

"And they never took you back? In the last seven years, your prescription has never been updated?"

"No, ma'am. Things are a bit blurry, but I manage alright."

Pomfrey stared at him. "Sweet Merlin, boy - the fact that you manage to be as good a seeker as you are is astounding." She shook her head, glancing at the parchment on the clipboard. "And you said your relatives weren't much for getting you medical care. Would you give me a rough estimate for how many times you saw any sort of medical professional before you arrived at Hogwarts?"

"Does the school nurse count? Playground scrapes and things?" he asked. When Dudley had pushed him down on the playground, he'd been sent to the nurse several times before the Dursleys could intervene.