'But it's okay. I mean, it's no big deal.'
'Mm-hm.' She waved her wand about a bit more. 'And you never had them properly set?'
'Sorry?'
'The bones. You were raised by Muggles, correct? And you never went to a Muggle Healer and had the bones set so they would heal properly.'
'Ummm.' Harry hugged the thin cloth of the gown tighter to himself. What did it matter if he had always had to tend to himself? It wasn't like anybody else was going to.
'That's answer enough, I imagine.' For the first time, she picked up a clipboard and jotted something down on it. 'I want you to tell me about your eating habits, when you were at home.'
Harry frowned. 'Like what I like to eat?'
'No. More like, how often you ate, and what kinds of things you had. Nutritionally.'
'I don't know. Regular stuff, I guess.' This was skating too close to that horrid list of rules Snape had given to him last night. Even thinking about the list made him want to scream.
Madam Pomfrey sighed. 'The truth now, Harry, if you please.'
He gritted his teeth. 'And if I don't please?'
'Manners, Potter,' growled a voice from the other side of the curtain, and Harry jumped, having nearly forgotten Snape was there. 'Mind your cheek.'
Something inside him snapped, and he hopped off the bed and grabbed up his clothes from the floor where he'd dropped them. 'I won't, I'm not . . . I'm not doing this anymore. You can't make me.'
Snape burst through the curtain like a demon. His scowl could have
Harry shook his head, and tried to make a break for it. This was stupid and surreal and he wasn't going to do it anymore!
But Snape snagged his arm as he was dodging past, and whirled him around so they were face to face again. 'I am not playing here, Potter. You will remain here until you are given leave to go.'
Tugging at his arm -- the same one Snape had grabbed to haul him out of the showers before -- proved fruitless, but damn it hurt! He couldn't suppress a wince as the man's bony fingers pressed into already existing bruises, and when Snape's other hand came up, he ducked reflexively, but the professor only took his other arm in hand, and lifted him to put him back on the hospital bed.
'Professor,' Madam Pomfrey said. 'I'm sure Mr. Potter will be fine if you let him go now.'
'Of course,' he said, and released Harry, stepping back just enough to block Harry's only point of exit and folding his arms across his chest. 'Pray continue.'
Madam Pomfrey took the clothes out of Harry's hands and set them gently on the bed beside him. His trainers were still on the floor; if he'd escaped, he would have had to back to the dungeons barefoot. 'I know this must be rather frightening for you,' she said, and Harry looked away and shook his head, 'But it really is for your own good.'
Harry didn't bother to correct her. Why should he care anymore? He was in for it, no matter what he did. In a low voice, he said, 'Fine. I ate whatever was left. And only if my chores were done.'
'Whatever was left from what?' she asked quietly.
'From
