Chapter 3 – Whispers at St. Mungo's


"Marla Parkinson, you are too beautiful for your own good," Lily Potter said to no one in particular.

Eating her stew, not enjoying it as much as she normally would, Lily became way too familiar with the life details of her subject, a picture of whom twirled about and flashed an ostentatious smile to the photographer over and over again. Tall and slender with long flowing blond hair, Marla was about eight years older than she was, the daughter of one Pensée Parkinson and Adenau Hartzlebean. Her mother didn't take her husband's name, she noted with casual interest.

For ten years after leaving Beauxbatons early, she had been modeling the latest in robes and witches ware, and was now staring in a new conjuredrama of The Beetle and the Bard. Although like any young witch she enjoyed the spectacle of this newly-invented magical storytelling production, which made the audience members feel as if they were in the midst of the story, for Lily they would never quite match the magical combination of ineffably compelling moving flat images and sounds that her eccentric grandfather showed her when she was only a few years old. What were they called again? 'Movings'? Something like that…

For the past seven weeks, Miss Parkinson had disappeared for long stretches from the rehearsals for the conjuredrama. Rumors from a bevy of publications, each of lower repute than the next, speculated that she had either come down with a serious illness, or stormed off the stage due to disputes with the chief conjuremaster, or that she had run away to Stonehenge with some wizard other than her fiancée. Inwardly, Lily flinched. All these people trying to find out things they had no reason to know.

So why was she now trying to do the same?

Because I have a job to do? How many terrible people in the past had justified their actions with that reason?

You have to make the right choice, whenever you can. Maybe this was just a rationalization, but it was true regardless of the circumstance. Who knows, there may be a public concern involved here after all? Now that sounded like a rationalization, so she abruptly cut off all further recriminations in her mind. Folding up the scroll and gathering her things, she thought resolutely, do what you must, and let things fall where they may.

She Apparated away.


"Not here! Not here!" the house-elf squealed, slamming the door in her face.

Okay, that didn't go well. But she had to start from the beginning, even though she knew it would be futile. Backing away from the shady little house, she took in the surroundings of Minor Dovetown. Why would a famous witch like Marla live here? Probably to escape attention, but something about that didn't seem right. And there was something else: where were all the other reporters? Why weren't they here, trying to get the story like she was? The answer she came up with was unpleasant: having investigated this, they had found nothing, and had moved on to other things.

Lily began to feel discouraged. In that case, start with your strengths. If the reason Miss Parkinson had disappeared from public view was due to illness, there was but one place to begin looking.

A moment later, she was in front of the entrance to St. Mungo's Hospital. Now she felt a surge of confidence. Every good reporter needs sources to rely on, and in this case I have one of the best!

When her turn in line came, she walked up to the old witch in the foyer, who curtly asked: "What ails you, my dear?"

"Nothing," Lily replied. "I'm here to see Healer Rose Weasley."

"Rose Weasley," the witch replied, flipping through an old book. "Who might I ask is calling?"

"My name is Lily Potter, I'm her cousin." The witch eyed her quizzically, but to Lily's relief did not burst with recognition of her famous patrimony. She waved her wand, and a sheet of paper folded into a plane and flew away.

"All right, I have dispatched a message to her. Please go to the Visitor's Teashop on the fifth floor and wait for her there."

"Thank you." On her way she passed many witches and wizards with a variety of ailments, and scores of Healers. Lily had barely taken a seat when an excited cry called out.

"Lily!"

"Rose!" The two young women ran towards each other and embraced.

"How's everything?"

"Fine. Busy day in the hospital?"

"Oh, nothing but the usual. A waterdemon bite here, spilled potions there." A wry smile came across Rose's face. "Doing some investigative work, are you?"

"No, I was in the neighborhood, and it's been so long since I last saw you, I had to stop by." They both laughed; Rose and Lily had been the closest of friends since childhood.

"Alright, you little Ferret, I'll play, but the law is the law," Rose said with mock somberness. Or was it? Unlike her very direct mother, Rose had a mischievous side to her, not dissimilar to her brother Albus… or her dad.

Lily dropped her voice; the tearoom was relatively empty, but no need to take chances. "Has Miss Marla Parkinson been admitted to St. Mungo's recently for any serious magical ailment?"

Rose blinked. "I can say she's been to the hospital in recent times—that's part of the admission record—but I can't say much more than that."

Lily considered Rose's words. "Was it ever for an emergency? Or for non-natural ailments?"

Now Rose seemed uneasy. Quickly glancing around, she leaned over and whispered: "This is going to come out very soon, so while it's technically against the rules to say… in practical terms I can tell you, so long as you don't print it."

How will that help? But Lily did not argue; intelligent as she was, Rose would not have said what she did if it would really get either of them in trouble. "Okay."

Rose did something unexpected: she mouthed silently. It caught Lily off-guard, so she missed what she said. Perhaps realizing it, Rose mouthed again: Marla is going to have a baby.

"Really? But… what about that spread in the Daily Prophet?" A little more than a week ago, the last public photo of Parkinson had been taken, and she looked her normal slender self.

"There are… certain potions a witch can take, which can maintain, or even improve a witch's figure. You can use them—relatively safely—until as recently as the day before."

"That doesn't sound all that safe," Lily said.

"You're right, it's not—and using them in that circumstance is illegal. But most witches have better sense than to do it."

"So why?"

"Because of her job?"

"Yeah, but she hasn't been on the job lately." Lily was thinking, but there were too many unanswered questions. She tried a different line of attack. "How many know about it?"

"The press has no idea—we've made sure of it." That was an interesting response. Lily pressed further.

"Is everything going alright?"

"I don't know—I'm not involved, but…" Rose's voice trailed away.

"But what?"

Rose did not answer. Lily waited patiently, then started to feel a little apprehensive. But what? Outwardly Rose was placid, but Lily could tell she was deep in thought. Lily waited.

Suddenly Rose stood up. In a loud voice she said: "Of course, I'd be happy to give you a tour of the Hospital Wing. Come with me."

Rose turned and began walking out. Confused, Lily followed after her. They walked down to the second floor, where a large sign said, "Magical Bugs." The array of injuries she saw was enough to make her look down at the ground as she walked, looking only at the back of Rose's robes. She seemed in a hurry.

Rose was speaking as if she was giving a tour, pointing out the various beds and facilities, occasionally greeting a Healer or patient that she knew. Abruptly they turned into another corridor, one which was almost deserted. Lily looked up, and a sign here said: "Healing Annex 2 – Special Concerns."

There was almost no one here, except for a relatively young couple holding an infant in their arms. The child was heavily wrapped, and when they saw her they hurriedly covered the infant up, shielding him (or her) from Lily's eyes. Quickly Lily looked away, but in the brief moment of eye contact, she had seen—anger? Fear?

Despair?

They walked past a few doors, then stopped before one. Rose waved her hand over the door, which unlocked. They both went in. Lily saw they were in a healing room, with a bed on one side, and a table top filled with vials and cauldrons of various liquids.

After she closed the door, Rose turned her back to her and began putting together a very complex potion.

"What is this place?" Lily asked, looking around.

"A special wing, for new and unusual maladies. Normally it's not very busy here."

Lily began to understand. "And now?"

A pause. "That couple out there is not the only one."

"What's wrong?" Rose did not answer, her complete attention being taken by the potion she was making.

Lily was curious. "What are you drafting?"

"Vivia Potento." Never heard of it. She waited for an explanation, and got one: "It's an extremely powerful health potion," Rose said, "only given to very young infants who are extremely sick."

Bemused, Lily quipped: "I don't remember seeing that in our potion cabinet."

"When I said 'extremely sick'," Rose said with surprising vehemence, "I mean, extremely sick." She turned around and held up a glass flask filled with sky-blue potion. Lily stepped back involuntarily. She was at a loss for words.

Rose carefully bottled the potion and placed it inside a cold locker. Abruptly she said: "Okay, Ferrett, I need to get back to work. I'll show you the way out." Her voice was strangely cheerful, but Lily noticed Rose's eyes, blinking rapidly. Stress?

"Thanks for everything. Say hi to Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione for me!"

They left the room and walked towards the exit. As they did so, another couple was hurrying down the other way, following a pair of Healers. None of them seemed to pay any attention to Lily and Rose. When they passed, Lily heard the man say, "…Nothing! Nothing happened! You have to help us, we can't bear…" Their voices trailed away in the distance. Lily dared not look back.

At the entrance to the main stairwell, there was a hive of activity. The two of them shared a final silent look.

"Good luck, Lily," Rose said quietly, stepping towards her and hugging her, firmly.

When they separated, Lily said: "Thanks. See you soon." Rose quickly disappeared into the mass of Healers going about their business. Lily went down the stairs and exited the hospital, lost in thought.


"You may not think so, but that's a great assignment!" Albus said enthusiastically at the dinner table. "I met Marla once—gorgeous witch, when she wore one of my designs at Mortus, sales tripled!"

"Perhaps you could introduce us," Lily said with a hint of sarcasm. "After all, that's one more time than I've ever met her."

"Witches like her are found when they want to be found. And another thing," Albus said, his voice muffled as he talked while eating, "publicity is her strongest magic. She'll show up, before you know it."

"I'm sure." As she finished her meal, she said: "You really surprise me, this is as good a chicken roast as I ever had."

"Why thank you," Albus said with a bow. "I expect nothing less from you tomorrow."

"Eep," Lily grunted. With Quidditich season about to start, their Mum was busy at WWN preparing to broadcast matches, so they would have to do the cooking. Meanwhile, their dad flitted in and out of the house at irregular intervals; right now he wasn't here either. James was back at his place, so Albus and Lily had run of the Potter house tonight.

"Let me take care of that—"

"—No, I'll do the dishes." To prove it, she took out her wand and in one flowing motion, sent them all into the sink, flushing them with water.

"Well done. Alright, good night then, I've got to get up early."

"Me too. Night Albus." After doing some more tidying spellwork, Lily climbed up the stairs and into bed. In the darkness, she heard first her mother, then her father come home, engage in grown-up talk, then went to bed themselves.

Closing her eyes, Lily was lost in thought. Marla's having a baby… and there's something wrong, something very wrong - a new sickness in the wizarding population? She remembered the behavior of that first couple, and especially the second. 'Nothing! Nothing happened!' echoed in her brain over and over again. An unknown illness—that attacks children? If so, that was public news of the highest order. First thing tomorrow, I'll get on it. The only question was, could she do it without having to rely completely on Rose?

We'll see.


The next morning, Lily was so excited she was almost out the door before saying goodbye to her parents and Albus. She walked into the Wizard Weekly building at a rapid clip, making her way for Albertsworth's office.

The editor was most surprised to see her so excited. "My dear, what's all the commotion about?"

"I think I'm on to something, something important. It's—" Before she could finish her sentence, there was a frantic knock on the door.

"Alright, alright, just come in," Albertsworth said, annoyed. Lantek rushed in, holding a stack of newspapers.

"Sir, you have to read these, they're just-released morning specials from the competition!" He placed them on the desk and waddled out.

"Morning specials? What could have happened so soon they'd have to put out a new edition right after the first one of the day?" He took one, and Lily took another. Simultaneously they gasped in surprise.

Rapidly skimming through the headlines, Lily felt her heart sink. Didn't Rose warn her not to delay? The words and images on the front page testified to the magnitude of her failure to act quickly.

More slowly, her boss continued to read, his face inscrutable. Lily waited in bitter silence. Finally he lowered the paper and stared at her. In his hands was The Daily Prophet, the front page filled with a picture of a crying Marla Parkinson in front of St. Mungo's, and a stark headline in boldface type:

Breaking! Famous Witch's Son Dead! Hidden Pregnancy Rocks Wizarding World!
Says
'It Was Supposed To Be A Surprise!'

"Was this what you were going to tell me?"

"Uh, no, sir."

"I see." He was silent, then said: "Well, then, it seems we're behind the ball," he said, his voice sour with disappointment.