Healing Hands & Racing Hearts
Harry threw himself into his Healer training with full force.
Not because he was avoiding Seamus.
…Okay. Maybe a little because he was avoiding Seamus.
But mostly?
Because this was something that mattered.
Something that felt as natural as breathing
Pomfrey had been watching him.
Ever since he started, she had kept a careful eye on his progress, giving him the occasional nod of approval, but never saying much.
Until now.
Harry had just finished organizing the medical potions when Pomfrey suddenly turned to him.
“Mr. Potter.”
Harry straightened immediately. “Yes, Madam Pomfrey?”
She folded her arms, assessing him.
“I think it’s time for a test.”
Harry froze. “A test?”
Pomfrey nodded. “You’re going to handle your first real case.”
Harry’s heart leapt into his throat.
Pomfrey tilted her head toward the door.
“Mr. Thomas,” she called.
Dean poked his head inside, looking sheepish. “Uh—hey, Harry.”
Harry blinked. “Dean?”
Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh—I might’ve sprained my wrist during practice.”
Pomfrey gestured toward the examination bed. “Then Mr. Potter will fix it.”
Harry’s stomach flipped.
This was it.
His first real test.
Harry took a deep breath, setting his hands carefully over Dean’s wrist.
He ran through everything he had learned so far—
First, diagnose the injury.
Second, assess the severity.
Third, apply the appropriate healing charm.
He murmured the spell, watching as the magic worked.
Dean winced at first—but then, after a moment, he flexed his fingers.
“Bloody hell,” Dean muttered. “That actually worked.”
Pomfrey nodded approvingly. “Not bad, Mr. Potter.”
Harry grinned.
Of course, just as Harry was finishing up, the door banged open.
“Oi, what’s all this?”
Harry didn’t have to look up to know who it was.
Seamus Finnigan, chaos personified, sauntered into the Hospital Wing like he owned the place.
Pomfrey sighed.
Seamus grinned at her. “Don’t mind me, just here to supervise.”
Pomfrey rubbed her temples. “Mr. Finnigan, unless you’re dying, leave.”
“Can’t,” Seamus said cheerfully. “Harry’s my Healer now. Gotta make sure he knows what he’s doin’.”
Harry, who was trying very hard to stay professional, closed his eyes and prayed for patience.
Dean smirked. “Harry just healed my wrist.”
Seamus’s eyebrows shot up. “Did he now?”
Harry exhaled sharply. “Yes, Seamus.”
Seamus beamed at him. “Well done, love.”
Harry turned red.
Pomfrey, muttering under her breath, walked away.
Dean watched Seamus watching Harry—and grinned like he knew something.
Harry glared at him.
Dean whistled innocently.
Harry groaned.
He was so gone.