Chapter 15

They didn't go far, only to the nearest empty classroom.

"Sit," Snape growled, releasing the two boys to take the closest seats. Unsure if he was meant to be included as well, Harry slowly sat next to Justin. Snape loomed. Before long, McGonagall came gliding into the room, followed by a concerned looking Sprout. Harry felt slightly better with them there; Snape seemed less dangerous somehow that way.

"What is this all about, Severus?" Sprout asked, eyes on the boys, "Someone said something about fighting?"

"Mr. Otter and Finch-Fletchley were fighting," Snape answered, "Mr. Dursley was hiding under the table. I thought I better take him as well before he fainted." At that Harry flushed red and both Eric and Justin glared at the professor. Even more embarrassing, Sprout seemed to take Snape at his word as she turned her eyes on Harry while radiating concern.

"Oh dear," she said, putting her hand on Harry's burning forehead, "Do you think he should be taken to see Pomfrey? He feels a bit warm." If anything, this made Harry's face grow even hotter. He could just see, through the gap in Sprout's arm, where Snape stood with an amused smirk. He didn't dare look at Justin or Eric, and they for their part made no remark towards him.

"If you feel the need," McGonagall mentioned, "I'm sure Severus and I can handle the two miscreants?"

"Perhaps," Sprout answered, sounding torn as she looked at the other Hufflepuff. Justin looked somewhat pale in contrast to Harry's burning face, his eyes carefully studying the floor, but neither of the boys looked hurt by their brief scuffle. Then she looked back at Harry. Finally, she said, "Perhaps I'd better. I'll leave them to your judgment. Do you think you can stand, dear?"

"Yes!" Harry answered quickly, jumping to his feat, and unfortunately stumbling slightly as he did. It had more to do with his unfamiliar new robe and less to do with the shaky feeling in his legs, but Sprout still seemed quite concerned. Harry meant to say something about not needing to see this Pomfrey, who he suspected to be the nurse, but being surrounded by three towering adults got the words tangled on his tongue, and before he could untangle it his head of house was already sweeping him out the door.

"Don't worry," McGonagall said as they left, "I'll make sure Severus keeps things within reason." Then the door was shut and Sprout took his hand, leading him on in a way that reminded him of a mother leading a toddler. It confused him, more than anything, though it was a bit embarrassing as well. It didn't help that the halls weren't completely empty, and they got quite a few glances. Finally, they reached a large room filled with beds and curtains. Sprout stopped by one of the beds and before Harry realized what she intended, she had picked him up and sat him down on the edge.

"What have we now?" a woman in white attire asked, stepping quickly out of the door at the end of the room, "Another stomachache?"

"I'm not really sure," Sprout answered, "Severus said the boy nearly fainted when his friends got in a bit of a scuffle. Go on, Harry, this is Madam Pomfrey. Tell her how you feel."

"I'm fine," Harry answered quickly, though in truth by that point he was feeling a bit ill. He hoped they wouldn't call his aunt and uncle over this; they hated to be bothered by school nurses over him. Both of them ignored his words, Pomfrey muttering something about children with weak constitutions as she felt around Harry's throat. She did pause for a moment though, turning to look at Sprout.

"Severus said? He was concerned?"

"He didn't sound concerned," Sprout answered, "But I don't think he'd have taken him from dinner for no reason. You know Severus."

"Yes," Pomfrey answered, "I do." And took a small book from her robes and tapped it with her want, muttering "Harry Potter". Then she opened it, looked at the contents, and frowned.

"I don't seem to have your records," she said to Harry, "Did your guardians send anything with you?"

"Er…" Harry answered, staring at her blankly. The Dursleys had avoided anything to do with his new school and no mention of medical records was ever made.

"Try Harry Dursley," Sprout suggested, "He was adopted by his aunt and uncle." Pomfrey performed the same actions with his correct name, but quickly shook her head again.

"Still nothing. Did you get a check up with a healer? I can get that forwarded at least."

"Is that like a doctor?" Harry asked, his anxiety beginning to grow. Could you get kicked out of school for not having medical records? Pomfrey shook her head over him, before waving her want, this time over him. He felt a strange tingling sensation starting at the top of his head and going down him to his toes. While Pomfrey looked over her book again, occasionally pausing to hold her wand over different parts of his body, Sprout sat down on the bed next to him.

"A bit like a doctor, exactly," she told him, "All students are supposed to have a check up before they come."

"Do you have to leave school if you don't?" Harry asked quickly, his stomach churning. He didn't want to leave Hogwarts. Magical school aside, it was nice having friends. At least it was nice; it suddenly occurred to him to wonder if Justin would still want to be friends after getting in trouble over him. And what would everyone think now, knowing that he had hidden under a table and gotten sent to the nurse's office over nothing? Still, it would be better to face that than be sent home to the Dursleys. His aunt would purse her lips and give him that scornful, disappointed look she always gave him when he messed things up. His uncle would either be furious to be imposed upon, or gleeful that his nephew wasn't going to be a freak wizard after all. But before he could worry further, Sprout was already answering in the negative.

"No, of course not. It just means we need to make an appointment soon. Don't worry about it."

Harry worried anyway. He worried about them contacting the Dursleys and being sent home; he worried about what was happening to Justin, and even a bit about Eric, especially since the fight was mostly his fault. He worried about what everyone would think about him now; probably that he was a baby who hid under tables and fainted. And he worried when Pomfrey made him lie in the bed while she took Sprout into the other room to talk. She did leave him a tray of food, someone remembering that his dinner had been interrupted, but he was far too worried to do more than pick at it.

Closed door talks about him were never a good thing.

Author's Note: first of all, really sorry about the delay. And really really sorry, but no promises for a quick update later; my current obsession remains with Sherlock Holmes, though I will try to be better at updating all my WIP's. It doesn't help that I have the plots to my psych and Sherlock holmes stories pretty much worked out while this one seems to jump wherever the characters decide to drag me…well, I'll get back to it properly. Eventually.