The notion that the test might be painful seemed to take Harry aback; his expression didn’t waver by much, but the general diagnostic spells, a rough Wizarding equivalency to a Muggle x-ray, were rarely more severe than the itch of a rough wool sweater across bare skin.<br/>It wasn’t enough that it had made Harry reconsider. If progress and answers came at the cost of brief discomfort, that felt like a proportional trade off. It did, however, make his hands settle in the pockets of his trousers, right hand curling around the upper half of his wand by instinct. The reflex didn’t come from mistrust in Malfoy’s intention, not really anyway, as it was a source of comfort in the face of an unknown form of pain.<br/>"Alright,” Harry said, and though his smile remained something had changed, ghosting as his lip more by force of habit. He didn’t know how else to give his consent, though he heard the question in Malfoy’s statement. “I’ll keep the shirt on, then; you can go ahead."