Chapter 3
Harry stayed and talked about other things with Hagrid for about thirty minutes before he thought he should go and get ready for his next class. On his way, he passed the hospital wing and heard Madam Pomfrey and the Headmistress talking just inside the doorway.
“He’s going to take some convincing, Minerva. And while I understand your concern you can’t go about making medical decisions for other people.”
“Why? You go about making them for me.”
“I’m a Healer, that’s my job.”
“Exactly, now do your job, for Neville.”
“You are just as tricky as Albus was. You know I can’t just go making medical decisions for him, he has to come to me.”
“I never have to.”
“That’s because you’re… well…
“Old? Go ahead Poppy say it. I dare ye.”
“Don’t go putting words in my mouth, Minerva McGonagall. I was going to say ‘a special case’ in reference to the fact that you are too stubborn to seek my help until you are literally having a heart attack.”
“Will you keep it down? Someone’s listening.”
Harry knew the jig was up. “You’re both right. If I might say so.” He said, appearing from around the corner.
“Oh, thank you for that assessment, Mr. Potter. And what would you suggest we do?” The headmistress asked, clearly annoyed by the situation and giving Harry a look that suggested she did not want to hear his answer.
But she did ask…
“Well, Professor, you and I both know that Madam Pomfrey shouldn’t just force her help on people,” Harry said with a look at Madam Pomfrey, who was giving him a dangerous look. “But she does it all the time anyway, so I don’t see why she shouldn’t do it to Neville. Especially with this much concern about him.”
“Precisely my line of thought, Potter. What say you, Poppy?” Minerva asked jokingly as she turned to face the Medi-witch again.
“Fine. I’ll try to talk to him when I get a chance.” Madam Pomfrey said with a resigned sigh.
“And I’ll make sure you get a chance,” Minerva replied, suddenly with a look in her eye that spelled subterfuge.
She started to walk away from the two of them, but Poppy stopped her. “Minerva, what are you going to do?”
Professor McGonagall did not answer except for a wave of her hand as she continued away. Harry decided to follow her and ask a few questions of his own.
“Professor,” Harry began, catching up with her. “Did Madam Pomfrey mean an actual heart attack, when she said heart attack?”
“Potter, will you stop saying those words out loud.” The headmistress answered in an angry whisper.
“Sorry professor, but did she?”
“Yes Potter, she did.”
“When?”
“Last autumn, November the first, remember I was absent from classes for a few days and you all had to deal with miss Hirschel?”
“I thought that was you testing out a new teacher.”
“Yes, and recovering from a heart attack.”
“Well, you managed to recover very quickly.”
“It doesn’t take long when you’ve got so talented a mediwitch as Poppy Pomfrey hounding your every step.”
By this point, they had reached a splitting point and Harry knew he should get to class but he was too curious.
“Well, are you alright, should we be worried about the length of your tenure?” He asked, only half-joking.
“Potter, really my heart is none of your concern, but for your information, it has been acting up since that one particular incident in your fifth year.”
“Oh. that.”
“Yes, Potter, that,” Minerva answered, sounding deeply exasperated. “Now don’t you have a class to get to Potter?”
“Yes, yes I do,” Harry said, glad to get away with his questions answered and without getting hexed for impertinence. He wheeled around and started off at a quick pace back towards his classroom.