"Harry," Hermione said, "are you really sure about this?"
"Yes, Hermione," Harry said, "It'll be fine. They've checked your teeth before, right?"
"Y-yes," Hermione answered, "but I prefer the wizarding way, to be honest." She whispered, "Please don't tell them I said that."
He laughed. "Of course not, but Fred and George may need to hear about your new name."
"You wouldn't!" she exclaimed, looking scandalised.
Harry laughed again. "They would, that's for sure." When she continued to give him the pleading look, Harry added, "Fine, Jeannie, my lips are sealed."
"Thank you," she said with a smile.
They were sitting in Harry's room, chatting after dinner. It was the first time they had had to talk alone since before tea was served. Harry and Hermione were sitting in her favourite bean bag chairs, as she called them. Harry couldn't get over how odd it felt to sit on something that seemed to constantly shift beneath him as he tried to stay in place, but Hermione seemed perfectly at home. They were soft, but he just felt off balance on them.
"Stop moving around and it will stay still," she said again as he kept moving about. "Honestly, for a renowned Quidditch player, you would think sitting in a still position would be easier…"
"I would, but it just keeps moving," Harry protested.
"That's because you keep moving," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Honestly."
Harry tried to settle and stop moving, and the beans shifted less, but he still found it unnerving. Hermione laughed, throwing up her hands in surrender as he jolted violently again.
"I got a few new books for my birthday," Harry said as an excuse to get up. He dug them out of his bag. "The professors gave them to me before I left. You can guess who gave me which."
"They are rather dedicated to their specific field," Hermione chuckled, reading over the titles. "Modern Transfiguration Theory, Charms for the Befuddled, Ancient Techniques of Defence, Poison your Friends for Fun and Profit,… wait, what?"
"Oh, that was a bit of a joke," Harry said. "Snape gave me a book called "Potions for Fun and Profit," but I think Flitwick messed with it before it was unwrapped. Snape didn't like the joke too much. But I left it that way, anyway."
"When was your birthday?" Hermione asked, setting down the last book.
"Oh, later in the break," Harry said, vaguely. "They wanted to celebrate before we went."
"But when?" Hermione asked, looking at him with a serious expression.
"On the thirty-first, okay?" Harry said. "So, after the check-up tomorrow, what should we-?"
"But that's less than two weeks, and I haven't gotten you anything!" Hermione exclaimed. After a pause, she said, "When your check-up is done, we'll go by The Grafton. It's only a few blocks away, and I can find you a good birthday present! I should warn the twins that your birthday is coming up, too."
"I-but-wh-" Harry sputtered, but it was too late. Hermione's face was too set, too determined. He was not going to win this one.
"It's settled!" Hermione exclaimed, standing. "I'll take care of everything. Sleep well, Harry!"
And with that, she left, and Harry was left sitting on the floor wondering what had just happened.
The next morning, Harry awoke to a knock at the door.
"Harry?" Robert said through the door. "It's time to wake up. Breakfast in a few. Do you like waffles?"
"Ungh," Harry muttered, "s-sure?"
Sleepily, Harry dragged himself out of bed. The dim light coming from the bottom edge of the heavy curtain told him that it was still early morning. Awake, he could hear the same semi-distant street sounds from the night before. Cars drove hither and thither, close and particularly loud heels clicked away and faded, a dog barked as it was led past. So many people were up and about already, including Hermione's dad and mum. He wondered why he should be so tortured, as well. It was the holiday, in any case. Students should be able to relax on their days off, right?
Then, he remembered that he had volunteered for this particular torment, even beyond the waking up early part of it. He couldn't exactly back out now. It wasn't as if he was really afraid of the dentist, was he? Harry had faced down a far more fearsome opponent, two in fact. He had fought Voldemort and Quirrell, and had come out of it in one piece. Sure, the dentist would be poking around with sharp things in his mouth, but they meant it to be for the best, no? Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease about the whole of it.
Pulling on his day clothes, Harry took a deep breath in front of the mirror in the guest room, smiling as though he might never see that same smile again. Shaking his head, he told himself he was overreacting. This was Hermione's father he was thinking about. Surely, he wasn't going to do anything untoward with Harry's mouth.
Descending the stairs, Harry came back to the dining room where they had eaten the night before. Hermione was sitting there, eating a healthy serving of eggs and bacon, an empty plate to one side showing where one of her parents had already finished. She swallowed.
"Good morning, Harry," Hermione said brightly.
"Morning," he said, trying not to let his unease come through in his voice.
"Dad's just making your breakfast," she added, gesturing with a fork to the seat beside her.
Harry took a seat, asking, "Why are you up so early? You don't have a check-up today, do you?"
"Oh, no," she said, "but I thought I would just come along for support. You are new to this, after all."
"Th-thanks," Harry muttered, feeling, if anything more nervous. With more people watching him, it seemed worse than otherwise.
"It's really nothing to worry about," Hermione said, taking a bite of egg. Swallowing, she said, "My dad does my teeth every year."
Before Harry could reply, Robert came out, saying, "Harry, m'lad! Here's breakfast. Ready to show us what Wizarding Healers have done for those pearly whites?"
"Er, sure?" Harry said.
Her father laid down the plate in front of Harry, heaped with eggs, bacon, and waffles sopping with syrup.
"Thank you," Harry said.
Robert sat down on the other side of Harry as he began to eat, and Harry had an odd suspicion it was to get a good look at his teeth in advance. Trying to ignore that, Harry asked, "How long have you been a dentist?"
"Oh, 15 years," the man said, "we started our own practice a little before Hermione was born, though, Granger House Dentistry. We've grown to quite a nice size. We even keep on a few hygienists and an apprentice dentist these days. Her name is Katherine, but you won't see her today. She's on leave, off in Germany visiting some distant relatives, I think it was."
"Have you and Hermione's mum always practiced together?" Harry asked, gulping down a fried egg.
"It's how we met!" he exclaimed. "She and I were both students together at Birmingham, where we met and fell in love." He sighed.
Harry began to eye Hermione, uncomfortable. She laughed, saying, "Dad!"
"Sorry, Jeannie," he said.
Harry scarfed down the rest of his food before her father could say anything else. He nearly choked on the last bit of bacon, but forced it down, swallowing finally and saying, "Sh-should we get going?"
The three of them set-off immediately, leaving through the front door onto the street. It was a beautiful morning and people were passing through on their business. Their street was quieter, but Harry could see people down the way at the main road where many more people traveled. They went down to the main street and along it for some time. Harry looked around everywhere, seeing some of the places he had passed on the way in the day before, but they did not stop.
He was in a battle with his mind on the way there, half trying to stay distracted by the many new sites and sounds, half feeling as though every step drew him closer to some impending doom. Hermione and her father were chatting amicably beside him, but Harry didn't take part. A lead weight had settled in his stomach and with every step, it swung one way or another. He felt off balance. It was similar to the nerves of a Quidditch match, but different, somehow. It was as though he were about to begin a match that he knew from the outset he would lose.
Mr. Granger took an abrupt right down a thin, quieter street, passing a few shops and single family homes before they stopped. The building, his dentistry practice, was a single floor building stuck between a bakery and a place entitled, "Acupuncture and Acupressure." Harry wasn't sure what that was, but he had no time to ask. The three of them entered the practice, and Harry's stomach, already heavy, fell through his feet.
Beyond the entryway, three reclining chairs were spread around the room beyond. Each had an overhead light of some sort, a terrifying looking machine, and an assortment of sharp, pointy things set on a tray. A young woman was being seated by Mrs. Granger, dressed in a funny outfit with goggles, a face mask, and gloves. She pulled a sheet around to provide privacy, waving at the three new arrivals. Harry, however, saw that tray had the addition of a sharp needle. What sort of craziness was this dentist thing?
Along the wall, Harry saw posters with cartoon animals showing their teeth in giant, white grins. Harry found the whole assortment rather disturbing to him, but didn't want to say anything.
Mr. Granger took Harry along through the entry towards the chairs of death. Harry looked back at Hermione who was regarding all of this casually. Mr. Granger was practically giddy, in comparison. How could they not see the horror of this scene? Was this dentist thing really a front for evil dark wizards? Had Voldemort gotten to Hermione and her parents?
"Please have a seat, Harry," Mr. Granger said kindly.
"I-I don't know about this," Harry said, looking around to see the entrance had somehow become a long way off.
"I'm just going to check your teeth and remove some plaque from the outside," Mr. Granger said. "It's fairly basic."
"I'll talk to him, dad," Hermione said. Her father went away to a back room.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, coming next to him.
"I don't like the chair," Harry muttered, quietly. "Are you sure this is fine?"
"Of course," Hermione said, sounding a little amused. "Everyone is weird about it their first time. Little kids are usually scared of it because it looks like something out of a horror movie."
"A what?" Harry asked.
"Never mind," she said, putting a hand to her forehead.
"Everything okay, Jeannie?" Mr. Granger said, coming back with gloves and a face-mask on.
"I think he's still just nervous," Hermione said. "This could look a bit funny to eyes unused to it."
"Oh," Mr. Granger said, "Maybe we should bring out the puppets. Kids love the puppets."
"Dad," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "Harry isn't five."
"Hermione," Harry said, touching her shoulder and whispering, "Are you sure this isn't some sort of dark wizard plot? Maybe your mum and dad have been taken over by Voldemort. If we're careful we can get word to the Professors before this goes any further."
Hermione just stared at him for a second, eyes wide. Then, she burst into laughter. Eventually, after she had had to use the chair for support and just fallen back in the chair from the laughter, she was able to speak again. "Harry, why on earth would you think this has something to do with that?"
"I- just-" Harry stuttered, feeling ridiculous. "I mean, look at these things." Harry pointed at the tray of pointed metal implements. "They look like something to hurt people."
Hermione stifled another giggle, shaking her head. "Harry, you have the craziest imagination."
"I wouldn't put it past Voldemort," Harry said in a short whisper. "There's no level of evil he wouldn't stoop to."
"Harry, just get in the chair," Hermione said. "You'll be fine."
Breathing deep, Harry at last took a seat, but he sat up, at the very edge of the chair, ready to spring up and run if the occasion called for it. Mr. Granger, however, was not going to have that.
"Harry," he said, "please lean back. I need to have the light above so I can see what is going on in your mouth."
Grudgingly, Harry sat back. To his horror, the chair began to move, reclining him further. He tried to get up, but he was in too awkward a position to do so properly, and he thumped back into place. Hermione laughed again from a few steps away. He looked over and could see her standing in front of him.
"I'll be right here, you big baby," she said, giggling still.
Mr. Granger moved the light so that it pointed down on Harry, blinding him. Harry threw up his arm to shield his eyes.
"Sorry about that," Robert said, shifting the light down, somewhat. "I need it over your mouth."
Robert did a few things on the tray of painful objects, and Harry watched him as carefully as he could from the angle. Turning back around, he clipped a thin sheet to the front of Harry's shirt, covering it. When he turned back again, Harry could see two items in his hand. One was a thin rod with what appeared to be a tiny mirror at the end, the other was a thin rod with a curly sort of pointed bit at the end, no doubt meant for pain and gouging.
"This, Harry," the dentist said, "is a mouth mirror to help me see around your teeth better, and this is a sickle probe. I use this to check the enamel on your teeth to find any bad areas. It won't hurt. Just hold still, all right?"
Harry nodded but did not take his eyes off the clearly deadly weapon. Robert asked him to open up wide, and began to look around at the teeth, testing them with the sickle. Harry felt gentle tugs and some scraping, but did not actually have any pain. It felt weird, though, having these metal bits stuck into his mouth. Mr. Granger went around the teeth in a systematic way, pausing in a few spots, but always moving on.
When he had done, Robert put down the two instruments. "Your teeth are in excellent shape, Harry," the man said. "Whomever has been looking after them has been doing a good job, I must say. Do you brush or floss regularly?"
"What's that?" Harry asked, curious.
"Never mind," the dentist sighed. He added, sadly, "I suppose your magic does do a lot that we cannot yet."
"Don't sell yourself short," Harry said, happy that it seemed the scary pokings were ended. "You don't have the same tools available, but you still keep people's teeth clean. I admire the innovations of Muggles. You have done so much, you can do more than we in so many ways."
"Thanks, Harry," Robert said, smiling a bit as he let Harry's chair lower. "I would do a polishing, floss, and a fluoride rinse, but your teeth don't really need them today."
"Maybe another time?" Harry said cautiously. He wasn't sure what to think of this polish thing. His teeth didn't need to be mirrors themselves.
"Was that so bad, though?" Mr. Granger asked as Harry got out of the chair.
"No, I guess not," Harry said. Just as he said it, a great whirring sound came from the chair occupied close to the front. Some sort of grinding sound followed, but nothing else. Harry shuddered. "Just so long as I don't need that."
"You two run along," Robert said. "Jeannie, you know the way back, of course."
"Dad," Hermione said, "Harry's birthday is in a week or two, so I thought I'd take him to The Grafton to get him a present."
"Splendid idea," he replied, pulling out a wallet from his pocket. "Can you pick me up a new inspirational poster? The place needs something new."