Disclaimer: Susan Bones and all the rest of the magical world belong, of course, to J.K. Rowling. The title and lyrics in the summary, of course, belong to the ever great Beatles. Dr. Leonard McCoy and the Star Ship Enterprise belong, of course, to whoever created Star Trek the Original Series.


Blackbird


Susan Bones wanted to be a Healer. She always had, ever since she could remember. Justin said that was funny, wanting to be a doctor – Healer, he meant – when her surname was Bones. That was what he always called her, Bones, after a Healer – doctor, she meant – on something called Star Trek.

Muggles were silly, she thought, to make up stories about people living in space. Justin was full of silly things like that: trigonometry, and football, airplanes, and funny bands who'd named themselves after insects.

She liked to hear Justin talk about those things, silly things. The muggle world seemed so much simpler than theirs, yet at the same time – somehow – all the more complex for its simplicity, intricate like the individual stitches of a crocheted blanket. It was one of the things she missed most, talking about silly things with Justin.


Susan was a firm believer that a woman didn't need a man to be happy. But it had helped, having a man – having Justin – being happy.


Susan liked to help people. Ever since she could remember she had wanted to help people, falling into it easily, naturally, until all she ever seemed to do was that, help people. She helped with homework. She helped the first-years find their dormitories. She helped the teachers after class. She helped with the war.

She helped in the Hospital Wing after the battle because there had been so many injuries even Madame Pomfrey had been outnumbered. She helped wrap bandages and give potions and set broken bones, held hands and whispered words of comfort. She helped parents find their children and children find their parents. She helped a girl who wasn't even of age remember her name and told her her sister was alright – Susan hadn't known the sister was dead.

It was easy to get a residency at St. Mungos, after the war, because so many people were dead or broken and the wizarding world needed helpers, needed Healers like Susan.


During the summer after their fifth year Justin had her over to his house for two weeks. They spent every evening watching rerun episodes of Star Trek. She was appalled to realize that McCoy – Bones – was a man. Justin had been, for years, referring to her using a male characters name.

She liked him though, liked McCoy, liked the character. He was friendly and warm and everything Susan had imagined an old fashioned American country doctor would be. She was slightly put off however, that the only British character in the series was an aloof Scott who wasn't even Scottish at all, his actor, Justin had said.

It was the kind of thing Justin would notice. Justin was all about Mother England.

Susan had never cared very much for her country. She liked it, of course, but had never seen the point of loyal, die-hard nationalism. What was a country, anyway, but a bit of dirt and rock and grass? It didn't make any sense to die for something that was only a place to plant a tree.

She liked that about wizards. They didn't have a country. They lived in all different ones, of course, but they didn't have the sort of patriotism that Muggles did. Wizards were a people, not a country, and Susan would have been glad to die for any one of them.


But she hadn't. Susan hadn't died for her people. Justin had, but Susan hadn't.


Susan had never understood why people put so much stock in Harry Potter being an orphan. A lot of people were orphans. Dumbledore was an orphan. Neville was just as bad, worse, than being an orphan. Hannah was an orphan by the end of the war. Their old Defense Professor's little baby was an orphan, because Remus Lupin and his wife had died, too. Susan was an orphan. What were parents, really, when you had never known them? How could Susan miss something she'd never had?


She missed the way his voice wafted gently through her ear, like a caress, when he whispered her name. "Bones. Hey, Bones. Kiss me, Bones."


She was young, barely of age, much too young to have her heart broken like this. The world was too big, too cruel, and –

Susan had always wanted to be a Healer.


Fin