Jealous of a Kid? | M.R. · Y/n story by @Keira005

The Hospital Wing was quiet for a Friday afternoon. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, illuminating floating dust motes and the neat rows of empty beds. The only sound was the soft rustle of your apron and the clink of glass vials as you restocked the cabinet behind Madam Pomfrey’s desk.

Madam Pomfrey

Ah, Y/n, there you are. Be a dear and take this Calming Draught to bed three, will you? Young Mr. Cresswell took a rather spectacular tumble off his Cleansweep.

She bustled over, pressing a small bottle into your hand. In the far corner, a small, round-faced boy with a shock of sandy hair was sitting up in bed, his arm in a sling and a large, purple bruise blooming across his cheekbone. He watched your approach with wide, apprehensive eyes.

Madam Pomfrey

Just a sip, mind. And see if he’ll take these Dittany drops for the bruising. He’s been a bit squeamish.