Heroes Assemble!

Found!

The appearance of Harry Potter in the doorway of the medical wing, rubbing his shoulder and with a wince on his face had Daphne shooting out of her chair.

"Right, Potter. Bed!" she ordered, pointing at the closest of the six medical beds in the ward.

"I don't need a bed," Potter protested, not that Daphne was paying him any attention.

She'd known this day was coming and she'd planned accordingly. From the top drawer of her desk, Daphne pulled out a small box, not much bigger than a matchbook, before she marched across the room to where Potter had grudgingly taken himself. With a nod of satisfaction at the sight of him sitting there, she placed the box on the ground and tapped it with her wand.

Instantly, the box grew, expanding until it stood waist high. Its highly polished wood gleaming until the bright muggle lights.

"What's that?" Potter asked suspiciously as she ignored the pair of doors on its front to open the lid at its top.

"As a Healer," Daphne replied, "it is my sworn duty to provide the very best care possible to all of my patients. And so, after being coerced into being the Avenger's Healer, I made it a point to contact each of the previous Healers on record for each of my new patients to ensure that I had a complete understanding of their medical history."

"Previous Healer on record," Potter repeated before his eyes widened comically. "No! No, surely you don't mean ..."

With a tap and a wave of her wand, Daphne sent the plaque that had been included with the cabinet that had been sent to her straight to the wall above the bed that Potter was sitting on, sticking it there with a permanent sticking charm. The revulsion on Potter's face was pure bliss to Daphne and she was sure that it was enough to make the irritating man think twice before he ever tried to trick her into anything else in the future.

"You contacted Madam Pomfrey," Potter stated, his voice sounding defeated.

"I did. And Poppy was kind enough to send this cabinet along to me. It contains all of the potions and salves that you are likely to need from your exploits, as well as a complete medical write-up from your time at Hogwarts. That," Daphne added, nodding at the plaque, "she also thought I'd need."

Potter stared at her for a minute before his head dropped.

"So, what seems to be the trouble?" Daphne asked, waving her wand over him to get her own diagnosis.

"I got shot by something but my dragonhide cloak stopped it. Mostly," Potter replied, touching the back of his left shoulder again. "It just feels like a bruise."

"Hmm," Daphne replied, concentrating her spells on his shoulder.

A final swish brought a diagnosis up before her. This time, it seemed, Potter was correct. It was only a bruise, a bad one, but nothing that a bruise salve couldn't put right in a day or two.

"Take your shirt off," she ordered and promptly ignored his raised eyebrow and smirk by opening the chest's doors and rummaging inside.

After straightening, Daphne unscrewed the lid to the salve, dipped her fingers into the dark green paste and began applying it to the nasty purple and blue patch on Potter's shoulder. His sigh of bliss told her that it was already working.

"You'll need to have the bruise salve applied four times a day for the next two days," Daphne stated. "You can either do it yourself or you can come here and I'll do it for you."

"Thanks, but I think I can manage," Potter replied, flexing his shoulder after she'd finished and smiling at the greater movement that he was already getting as the salve did its job.