Harry Potter sat outside one of the wards on the fifth floor of St Mungo's Hospital. The small neat plaque on the door read 'Sloth-pan' Sally Runwick Ward: Irreversible Spell Damage. Healer in Charge: Aretha Mimsickle. Trainee Healer: Robert Slith'.
He wrung his hands together nervously, a small letter crumpled in his lap. Healer Mimsickle had written to him in a private letter, asking if he would mind dropping by to pick up the paperwork that held the official coronary report on his parents' deaths.
Although Harry was hesitant to accept, his wife urged him to take the paperwork off the old healer's hands before someone else go their hands on it. He'd been asked to wait while the elderly healer went about her pre-lunch rounds tending to the other patients in her ward. The next corridor held 'Permanent Spell Damage' patients like Harry's old professor, Gilderoy Lockhart, and Neville's parents. All three had managed to make some headway with their recoveries, Alice Longbottom had even recently shown signs of a willingness to speak.
A door opened and closed beside Harry and as he looked up, his eyes met with those of Healer Mimsickle. An elderly witch with flyaway grey hair and kind blue eyes.
'Thankyou for coming Mr Potter,' she said kindly 'I know this is a horrible thing to have to do, but I'd rather these necessities go to the right hands instead of being publicly released.'
'Ginny, my wife, explained to me that when there's a death involving magical means there's always a healer who inspects the bodies to determine the cause, and that an official report needs to be written. I assume that it's the record of my parent's death that you're releasing to me.' Harry ventured
'Quite so, Mr. Potter. The process is very similar to the one in the muggle world, however after twenty years the report is to be released to the next-of-kin or in failing that, the general public.'
Harry nodded his head in understanding. Suddenly anxious to get this over with, he motioned for the witch to get the papers. Instead she beckoned him to follow her to her office.
'I'd much rather do this in private, rather than risking others see this.' she explained as she held her office door open for him.
The small office was neat and tidy, with a small pile of papers on each end of the desk. Healer Mimsickle went straight to a large chest of drawers set against the furthest wall. She pulled the top most drawer out a picked a small manila file from it. A pensive look crossed her face, and Harry instantly was reminded of the way Horace Slughorn looked the day he gave Harry the memory of Tom Riddle asking him for information on Horcruxes.
'You won't find anything pleasant in there Mr Potter,' she said gravely, 'but I do hope it provides a little closure, and in time, lessens the pain.'
She handed it to him, still with the pensive look adorning her wrinkled face.
'Am I allowed to open it here?' Harry asked, 'In case I have a question?' the healer nodded her acquiescence and Harry sat in the small chintz chair in front of her desk.
The report was longer than expected, more graphic than Harry was predicting. The placement of their bodies was extraneously detailed. 'James …at the foot of the staircase, wandless.' 'Lily …in the second bedroom in front of the crib, wandless.' Harry's eyes glided over every detail, soaking up all the misery and pain that the report offered.
The final two pages were detailing the infliction on the bodies themselves. 'James, death inflicted by the 'Avada Kedavra' curse, no other torture inflicted upon body.' 'Lily, death inflicted by the 'Avada Kedavra' curse, no other torture inflicted upon body, prenatal period cessation.'
Harry looked at the healer, confused by the last piece of information on Lily's report.
'What's "prenatal period cessation"?' he asked.
Healer Mimsickle looked at him sadly, the crease between her eyes deepened and her mouth turned down even further in misery. 'In the muggle world,' she explained 'that term is often called a "miscarriage" or the loss of a foetus.' Healer Mimsickle looked completely distraught, 'your mother was expecting a child when they were killed, she was approximately four months pregnant.' the elderly healer hid her face behind her shaking hands.
Harry too was distraught at the news, not only were his parents murdered, but his unborn sibling too. A younger brother or sister that he had never known of, never dreamt of. The healer had regained some of her composure and showed her face again.
'Even after all these years Mr Potter,' she said, her voice quivering, 'this is one of the things that continues to haunt me. Of all the evils in the world, of all the things frowned upon in wizarding society…' she trailed off, but Harry understood. He put the report away in its folder and grasped the elderly witches hands.
He didn't know what to say, but he conveyed his message through his thankful gaze towards the witch. The Healer's eyes were watery and her bottom lip quivered, she took a few deep breaths to completely regain her composure and after squeezing Harry's hands as a thankyou, she pulled them away.
'I-ah,' she cleared her throat, 'I'd better go and tend to my patients. Lunch hour can be remarkably difficult.' She stood to leave and patted Harry's shoulder as she passed to leave.
Harry followed her out.