Always Something - Dramione

Chapter Twenty

In a feat of non-magical strength, James wouldn't let anyone else carry any of the grocery bags into the house from the car. Inside the house, Ann bossed Cassie about where to put everything, and ordered Tim to get their things sorted for a day at work. Every Friday the Granger Dental Surgery opened late in the morning, a luxury neutralized by her insistence that they arrive an hour early.

Even after the restoration of her memory, Ann had kept her strong convictions about young people's chastity, and it meant that Cassie and her slightly too polite boyfriend would not be allowed to spend the workday alone, unchaperoned in Ann's house. A Muggle-free day didn't suit Cassie's plans either, and she made no objections to the both of them being brought along to the surgery instead.

It was a familiar spot for her. Twice a year, her grandparents sat her in what her dad called their Azkaban Armchairs and cleaned her teeth with picks and water and a potion that was supposed to taste like raspberries but absolutely did not. During the ritual, her grandparents never said anything about how remarkably clean and healthy the children's teeth already were.

At the clinic, Cassie had a familiar list of tasks to do -- cleaning glass surfaces with a spray bottle, using a noisy machine to suck dust out of the carpets beneath the waiting room chairs. The Grangers had a different list for James. To begin with, they dressed him in something they were calling PPE -- a full length paper gown over his own clothes, purple rubber gloves, a mask hooked over his ears, covering his mouth and nose, and a pair of clear plastic goggles. If the Grangers had meant this getup to keep him from cuddling their granddaughter, it was working.

"What is this place again?" he asked, muffled behind his mask when Cassie found him in a janitorial room at the back of the clinic. He was lugging away a cardboard box lined with alarming red plastic, stamped with a symbol for biohazardous material which he did not recognize, but could have guessed at by now. "I know it's about teeth, but -- I'm not even sure what I just saw out there."

Cassie lowered a pair of goggles over her own face, blinking at him from behind them.

"There was this tray full of metal hooks," he began. "Dozens of them, all different and tiny, but fierce looking. And there's wires and hoses, and water splashing everywhere, people laid out under bright lights with their mouths propped open, rubber clamped onto everything, and your grandad just sitting there, poking away, chatting about football."

"Yes, well he doesn't really care so much about football. It's just to help them relax."

"And the potions, Cassie -- great spiky vials full of potions. I saw your Gran drive one right into the inside of someone's cheek."

"And they didn't complain at all, did they?"

James blinked himself. "No, actually."

"Yeah, she's brilliant."

"Look," he said, tearing his mask away so he could lower his voice. "What is this all about? It looks like some kind of gory blood magic. I know that can't be right, but since we've been here, I have seen quite a bit of blood. And, I do believe, at least one disembodied human tooth."

Cassie tucked his mask back over his ears. "It's not magic, it's healthcare. They're helping people care for their teeth, so they don't fall out, and they can keep eating and smiling their entire lives. It's lovely."

James was unconvinced.

"Maybe you'd feel better if you had a cleaning yourself," Cassie said. "I've had loads. So have Pollux and mum. And what about your dad? Everyone says he was raised by Muggles. He must have been to the dentist himself."

"Dad? No, he would never."

"I don't see how he could have avoided it. It's a childhood rite of passage."