Chapter 1
"Are you sure about this, Tor? I could always set up in there and keep you company."
Victoria Thwaites let out a soft sigh. She knew her best friend meant well, but there was still something about being alone and focusing on the thing that she loves. The blonde waved her hand in the air dismissively; her thick, gold bracelets clinked together in light tinkling noises. "For the 7th time, Link, I'll be fine. Besides, you need sleep. You need it more than I do, you know that."
The dark haired boy caught her tiny wrist in one swift movement. He proceeded to continue the waving movement, chuckling at the sound of the clinking bangles. The boy's eyes crinkled at the corners, laughter hiding in the wrinkles, though worry swam in his irises. He let her hand fall to her side and pushed his hands into his pockets.
"I know, I know. It just doesn't feel right leaving you alone at night in the Hospital Wing," Lincoln said, his eyes looking ahead. The corner of the girl's lips curled up. They've done this scene a hundred times already.
"Well it's not like someone's going to hex me in the middle of the night," She joked while shrugging. "And even if someone did, I'm already at the Hospital Wing!"
Lincoln's light green eyes narrowed at his friend. The girl sucked air through her teeth, "Oh. Bad joke?"
The dark haired boy rolled his eyes, "I'm pissing, Tor."
"That settles it then. I'm going to quit school and become a comedian," The blonde teen supplied, which made Lincoln snort and suppress a laugh. Good ol', Lincoln. This made Victoria laugh and envelope the tall boy in a tight hug. "I'll be fine, Link. Don't worry. Now go back to the Common Room before a prefect catches you. And, thank you."
Without waiting for her best friend's answer, Victoria turned on her heel and entered the Hospital Wing. A concoction of rubbing alcohol, fresh sheets, and lemon filled the air. She breathed it in deeply, finding the blend of scents relaxing. Other kids would wrinkle their nose at the distinct hospital smell that the room gave, but not her. To the blonde, it was completely divine.
The teen's footsteps echoed throughout the Hospital Wing as she walked forward and her eyes scanned the huge room for the young, fair-haired matron.
"Madam Pomfrey? Madam Pomfrey?" she called out. Running a hand through her long, blonde hair, Victoria walked to Madam Pomfrey's office at the left corner of the room. Surely, she thought, Poppy would be there. Please be there.
Victoria knocked on her door and waited for a reply. When none came, she turned the knob to find the office lacking a certain neat-freak matron. The walls of the office were filled with shelves, both new and old, rickety wood and harsh steel. In those shelves were hundreds and hundreds of potions, salves, balms, and herbs in different colored tubes, pots, and bottles. A lone bed was at the far end of the room in front of a window that showed the full moon in the sky. A little ways away from the bed was a cauldron that Victoria had spent many hours brewing potions in ever since she persuaded Madame Pomfrey to take her in. To her right, a desk was pushed up against a wall with a neat stack of papers on it and a wooden chair pushed in.
A piece of parchment at the middle of Madam Pomfrey's desk caught my eye, In neat and sharp lines, the words "Victoria, I'm very sorry. Called to an emergency. Hospital Wing is yours for tonight. Keep it closed. List of chores at the back. Please read note at the bottom" filled the page. The blonde's curiosity piqued. An emergency? What happened?
Turning the parchment, the teen almost groaned at the list of chores that Madam Pomfrey left. Well, at least I wouldn't get bored, she thought as she scanned the list. Her eyes immediately picked up 'Stock list per cabinet' and she had to suppress a squeal of glee. Finally! Madam Pomfrey was letting her check out her inventory! She scanned the rest of the to-do's, only skimming the tasks to start with her favorite as soon as possible. At the bottom of parchment, the teen found the note that the matron wanted her read.
"Note: If a special emergency arises and you have to immediately treat a student, give him the yellow bottle potion on my nightstand," she read out loud. "What?"
An "emergency" she says. What kind of emergency would happen in the middle of a school night not even a month after it has started? Shaking her head, Victoria looked towards the nightstand where a certain yellow bottle glowed from the moonlight shining through the office's window. Victoria definitely had not seen that potion bottle before. It was obviously worn and frequently used. The label was practically trying to hold on for its dear life to the middle of the bottle. But even if it was stuck perfectly, the label had no use since whatever was written on it before had been smudged or washed off. The cork stuck to the opening of the bottle was worn with many lines of stains circling the crumbling thing. The yellow paint on the bottle itself had come off in some places, earning a peep at the dark liquid sloshing inside.
The blonde had the urge to sniff out the contents on the bottle, eager to learn what made up the mysterious "emergency potion" of the matron of the Hospital Wing. If Lincoln was there, he would have already plugged Victoria's nose into the opening of the bottle, but Victoria knew better. She placed the bottle back on top of the nightstand, careful to put it back exactly where the young matron placed it. Victoria could already hear the comments from Madam Pomfrey about "putting everything in its proper place" and whatnot. Sure, Victoria was also extremely tidy, but Madam Pomfrey would probably measure the exact millimeters that the bottle was out of place. Whatever the content of the bottle was, Victoria would have to wait for Madam Pomfrey to share the secret.
Shrugging off her Hogwarts cloak, Victoria set it on the chair facing the tidy desk, careful to set on the chair neatly so that her cloak doesn't slide off or touch the ground. Next was her tie. She hooked it on the side of the chair. Immediately, her shoulders relaxed and the blonde let out a huge sigh of relief. She breathed in the lemon-y scent of the office and went straight to work.
If there was one thing that Victoria never wanted to see again was, it was a dark bottle with equally dark liquid inside. She was certain that the last five that she smelled to check the contents burned her nose hairs and impaired her sense of smell. But even with that thought, the blonde continued to sniff and swirl bottles of dark liquid as if she was smelling the bouquet of a bottle of wine.
The growing list in her hand had already marked her seventh cupboard full of potions and herbs, and yet she had around eight more to go. Midnight had already passed, but Victoria did not feel even a pinch of exhaustion. For her, the night had just begun! Anything could happen at that moment. She could throw a party at the Hospital, brew tough potions with Madam Pomfrey's ridiculous stash of herbs and potion ingredients, choose and change the curtains to some funky design—
"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey! Please!"
"Where is she?! She knows that it's this time of the month! MADAM POMFREY!"
The potion bottle in Victoria's hands almost slipped from her shock. The room could have shaken with the intensity of the shout that came from the Hospital Wing's doorway. Without a second thought, Victoria set down the bottle and parchment, and ran towards the source of shouts. Although having someone injured is never a good thing, the blonde couldn't help but feel ecstatic at the opportunity to heal someone without Madame Pomfrey breathing over her shoulder. It could be a burn, like from a potion spill or a spell gone wrong. It could be a poor kid who got a broken bone from trying to evade prefects but failed. Or it could be a boring little tummy ache in the middle of the night.
However, none of the scenarios that Victoria had psyched up for in her head could prepare her for the famous Marauders James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew carrying a bloody and broken Remus Lupin. Well, technically, Potter and Black were carrying Lupin while Pettigrew was biting his fingernails in a few steps behind the three. Lupin was limp in their arms—pale, bloody, and sweaty. Gashes trickling with blood were all over his face which made his hair stick to his forehead. He was breathing heavily—painfully, as Victoria had noticed—and his breath hitched at certain times.
Before Victoria could even utter a word, the three Marauders accompanying the broken man pulled out their wands and pointed it at her. A squeak escaped her lips as her eyes zeroed in on the wands that were jabbed in her direction. It was a good thing that she set down the potion bottle inside the office, for it would surely slip from her fingers and cover her polished school schools with whatever the thick black liquid with a green tint is in the bottle.
"Who are you?"
"Where's Madame Pomfrey?"
"Why are you here?"
"You're not Madame Pomfrey!"
"What are you doing here?"
"Breathe a word of what you saw here and—"
Victoria surprised herself when, amidst the onslaught of questions and exclamations, she voiced out, "You're standing there with a bloody and beat up student, and you think knowing my name or why I am here is more important?"
The blonde had never heard her voice sound so loud or so aggressive. She almost winced after the final words left her lips. By the looks of astonishment and guilt that passed through the Gryffindors' eyes, they weren't expecting it either.
"Please, just put him on one of the beds," Victoria said politely after regaining her voice. "I'll be with all of you in a moment. I have to get the appropriate potions and salves for this."
Without waiting for their reply or giving them the opportunity to hex her, the blonde turned on her heel and ran towards the office. Two options came into her head: she could lock the door and try to escape through the small window in the office to avoid being hexed into the next century or she could actually heal the bleeding Gryffindor. Although the first was quite tempting, she knew that she could not even take two steps away from the window without climbing back and healing the poor sixth year. Her mind made up, Victoria threw open the cupboards and grabbed different sized, shaped, and colored bottles that she knew the bleeding Gryffindor would need. When she had found every potion she needed, a big armful of them, she ran out towards the four boys.
The four Gryffindors chose the bed at the farthest corner of the Hospital Wing, right next to an open window. The white bed sheet under Lupin was already rumpled and stained with a bit of blood. Victoria's heart skipped a beat at the sight. As she settled the bottles and tubs on the nightstand beside the bed, it dawned on her that she had to get used to this sight, especially when she tries out for St. Mungos. With quick and gentle movements, Victoria tried to clean the wounds and stop the bleeding. Some of them did stop bleeding, mostly the smaller cuts and scrapes, but almost all them continued to bleed even though numerous potions and salves. The blonde practically felt a vein on the side of her head wanting to burst. How she missed treating tummy aches and bleeding noses.
"I know that there is a confidentiality code that I should be bound to, and Poppy doesn't really like anyone prying into anyone's business," Victoria took a deep breath, "but may I ask how he got these injuries?"
The three boys looked at each other, a secret message being passed around using their eyes. Victoria had seen that look before. It was the one that she and Link would use often in front of Victoria's parents. Sirius Black straightened up a bit and looked deeply into Victoria's eyes. "He slipped and fell down the stairs."
James Potter let out a sharp sigh while Peter Pettigrew looked horrified. Sirius' face was completely blank, and Victoria was sure that he was dead set on keeping it that way. She had to hand it to the dark-haired, blue-eyed Gryffindor; he had a really convincing poker face. She gave a soft sigh.
She closed her eyes and pressed the cloth in her hand harder on an open wound on Lupin's chest. "My name is Victoria. I am a student assistant of Poppy's here in the Hospital Wing. I've been training on becoming a healer with Madame Pomfrey's help for almost two years now. I don't know where Poppy went. I came here because she asked me to earlier at dinner, and I came here only to find a note from her that says she went to an emergency. Like it or not, you're all stuck with me. Unless you want me to be helpless and let your friend bleed to death, I suggest that you help me know as much as the injury as you can let me so that I can help you."
After her final words, the Hospital Wing became quiet. Black still had a blank face, though the blonde could see that his left hand started tapping on his leg. Potter's eyes were filled with worry, guilt, and, possibly, shame. Pettigrew, who stood right next to the window which illuminated his mousy features, looked like he was almost about to cry.
"A wolf," Lupin coughed, his voice raspy and pained. "I got mauled by a wolf."
The Marauders' heads snapped towards their poor friend on the hospital bed. Victoria had to stifle a gasp, almost having completely forgotten the broken man that lay before her. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face.
She said, "A wolf? A wolf would have never done something like this, and even if it had, the wounds would have been easier to control and to heal."
"We don't have the full details, Victoria," James Potter suddenly piped up, his hair messier than she ever saw before. "What we do know is that it was a wolf from the Forbidden Forest. It must be some magical animal or something. Whatever it was, this is a special emergency kind of thing."
Black and Pettigrew nodded at Potter's explanation. Victoria did not notice the look that Lupin gave to his group for the words "special emergency" rang in her head. Keeping one hand on the cloth, she reached and pulled one of the Marauder's close, placing his hand on the cloth.
"Hold the cloth there, and hold it down hard. I'll be right back," she let go of the cloth and sped towards the office.
Of course! Why didn't she think of the mysterious potion bottle earlier? Victoria snatched the yellow bottle from Madame Pomfrey's nightstand and, once again, ran towards the group of tired Gryffindors. By then, the cloth under Black's hands had already turned a dark shade of red, and the four were talking in hushed tones. Whatever it was they were talking about, no matter how angry they sounded, Victoria paid it no mind and approached Lupin. She uncorked the bottle and finally got to sniff the contents of the bottle. Most of the smells that the blonde picked up were familiar, but there were a couple that left her reaching at the corners of her mind to remember what it was.
Before Victoria could give it to Remus Lupin, a hand blocked her way. Sirius Black's eyes were cold and trained on the potion in her hands. Pettigrew whispered behind James Potter, who had stood up from his chair, "How do we know that the potion you're going to give to Remus isn't poison?"
The girl blinked at the mousey boy—once, twice. "If the potion that I am holding is poison, shouldn't I pick someone in a higher position, like Professor McGonagall, Headmaster Dumbledore, or the Minister of Magic? Rather than a random student?"
Victoria whipped her head and stared down at Black, almost pleadingly, "This is a potion that Madame Pomfrey left me to use in case of a special emergency. Please, let me help your friend. By the looks of it, I'm your only chance."
Black tried to look for something in Victoria's brown eyes, something that he could hold against her like deceit or an apparent lie swimming in them, but he found nothing. Victoria opened her mouth to speak up again, but Lupin beat her to it. "Padfoot, just let her pass."
Taking that as consent, Victoria pushed pass Black's arm and helped Lupin sit up. Without a second thought, Potter held the broken and bleeding boy up as the blonde put the bottle to Lupin's lips. Victoria could already see the improvements that were happening as Remus Lupin drank from potion bottle. His wounds had slowly stopped bleeding and some of the smaller scratches were beginning to close. By the time that the potion bottle was empty, the Gryffindor's wounds had completely stopped bleeding and were beginning to clot. Victoria did not even wait for the other Gryffindors to comment and started cleaning the blood off.
The blonde could tell that they were doing the eye-messages-thing so she ignored the other three and focused on her patient. The wounds on Lupin's body were pretty deep and came in groups of four going in the same direction. Victoria thought that maybe Remus Lupin was telling the truth, given by the look of the wounds. Huh.
The blonde administered a wound-cleaning potion (on which she could Remus Lupin hissing slightly at the pain), an essence of dittany, and a blood-replenishing potion. It was then that she noticed the other scars that covered most of Lupin's body. There was no patch of skin on his chest that did not have at least one tiny scratch. Victoria felt a tug on her heart as she scanned the slowly recovering scratches.
Her brain was screaming at her to do something about it or at least touch a scar, but she held herself back.
As Victoria was wiping Lupin's face with a wet towel to get rid of the blood, she could feel not only the stares of the three Marauders sitting on the chairs and the window ledge, but also the amber eyes of the broken boy sitting on the hospital bed. She tried her best to ignore them all and focus on her work, but she could feel her skin crawling from all of the attention that she was getting. The blonde stood up and pressed a hidden button on the wall beside the bed.
There was a 'pop!' behind her, and a small but very old elf appeared. The elf was dressed in rags with a stain on the bottom left, which reminded the blonde of coffee. The big, watery eyes of the elf looked at the girl up and down, and the elf bowed. "My name is Jinky, Miss Victoria. At your service!"
The blonde kneeled down on one knee so she was almost at eye level with the small creature. It was as if the others in the Hospital Wing had vanished and a smile graced her lips, "Jinky, is it? Funny, I don't think I have ever introduced myself to you, but you seem to know my name!"
The creature blushed, a pink hue covering its wrinkly cheeks, and looked down. "I'm sorry, Miss. Heely has been talking about you. Good! Good things, I promise! Heely would never talk bad about you, which is why it is a great honor to be serving you."
"Serving me?" the blonde gasped, "Tush that. You're helping me. And right now, I need a huge favor from you."
If it was possible, the small elf's eyes became even bigger. The creature's bottom lip shook, and Jinky bowed lower, bulbous head almost touching the ground. A chuckle left the blonde's lips.
"What can Jinky help you with, Miss?"
"Well, Jinky, can you see my messy friend on the bed?" Victoria nodded towards Lupin. "He had an oopsie moment with the gelatin earlier. Don't stare, Jinky. He still feels upset about it. So, I think that it would really help if you could go to the boy's dormitory in the Gryffindor—"
"Gryffindor tower?"
"Yes, Gryffindor tower, Jinky. And then, can you get some change of clothes for my friend? Maybe a shirt and a pair of comfortable pajama bottoms? You don't mind, right?"
When Victoria turned her head, she almost had a double-take. All of the Marauders were wide eyed and slack-jawed. Not an hour after they showed how much they distrusted the girl, the Marauders are being called "friends" and taken care of. The first to snap out of the stupor was Potter who nudged Lupin hard on side. Victoria raised a delicate eyebrow, as if challenging Lupin to say otherwise.
"Oh, yes. I don't mind at all," he croaked, his hand reaching for this throat. Out of the corner of Victoria's eye, she could see Jinky trying to get a closer look at Lupin's healing wounds so she cleared her throat and nodded towards the other Marauders.
"I think the others would also like to have some change of clothes, wouldn't you, uhm," Victoria raked her mind, "Sirius?"
Black looked bewildered but quickly regained the pokerface that he held earlier. This time, though, it was much more relaxed. "Oh yes, I really will be grateful if you could. Wouldn't you feel the same, James?"
Potter nodded his head enthusiastically, pinching his stained button-up shirt, "A new change of clothes would be nice."
"And some long pajamas too," Pettigrew piped up from behind.
Victoria grabbed the little elf, who was leaning dangerously too close towards Lupin, by the shoulders and pressed a warm hand against the creature's cheek. "So, as you can see, Jinky, we really need your help. What do you say?"
The elf's head bobbed into almost a spastic nod, "Oh yes, Miss Victoria! Of course! Jinky will do whatever Jinky can to do it. Do you need some clothes too, Miss Victoria?"
"Oh, no. I'm good. I have a spare in the office."
With another nod and a 'pop!', Jinky was gone and the Wing was quiet once more. Normally, Victoria could thrive in silence. Give her a mug of hot chocolate and a new muggle book, and you can leave her alone for a couple of hours. However, at that time, the blonde would have loved nothing more than to slowly sink into the floor of the Wing and disappear from the four Gryffindors.
"When Jinky comes back, you can all change your clothes," the girl called out, gathering all of the potion bottles into her arms. "Please help your friend change if he needs it. I'll be back in four hours to administer the potions that you have to drink again. Feel free to use any of the beds, but do not make a mess, please. If any of you need anything from me, you can find me in Madame Pomfrey's office."
With the potion bottles cradled in her arms, Victoria turned on her heel and scurried towards the office. Before she could fully close the door and lock it, a clear "Thank you!" from Lupin reached her ears. At that, she let out a breath that she did not know that she was holding and carefully placed the bottles back on their respective shelves. She hoped that this night would not make a difference in her life, but somehow she knew that she would be foolish to hold on to that hope.