Requiem for the Living
By Jinxd n Cursed
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. I merely play in the world of J.K. Rowling; she still owns the characters.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Te decet hymnus, Deus, in Sion,
et tibi reddetur votum in Jerusalem.
Exaudi orationem meam,
ad te omnis care veniet.
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Chapter Four
Hermione put down the paper and sighed. She had mixed feelings about the interview she had given to the Prophet even prior to its publication and now she really wasn't sure what to think. Yes, it would very soon be ten years since Voldemort's demise but it would also soon be a year since the death of her husband from the curse that had petrified his respiratory system.
Ron had been cursed by Mulciber in September of 2005, the day before her birthday and month before her due date with Rose. The curse had progressed much like pulmonary fibrosis only with the horrifying reality that it wasn't just scar tissue building up in his lungs; it was turning to stone. His symptoms had been hardly noticeable at first, and he had insisted on continuing like everything was normal. Rose was born a month later with a veritable cloud of red curls and Hermione spent her maternity leave torn between caring for her newborn daughter and researching the curse by any means possible. She was able to find a potion that slowed the progress but there was no cure. Ron struggled on for two years as it gradually grew harder and harder to breathe. He was well enough to work a desk up until a month before his death when the potion ceased to be effective at all. Ron couldn't even sit up at that point, couldn't hold Rose who was almost two at the time, and choked for each breath.
The day before he died, Hermione had handed him a bottle of bright red potion.
"I wouldn't recommend drinking that one," she said as he examined it.
"Then why- exactly- is it- in my- hand?" he panted out.
"I just thought you might want to know that you're having a son," she told him through a teary smile.
"You're- you're- pregnant?" he panted out, his eyes brightening.
She nodded. "About two months, apparently. That's why I was so sick."
"That's- that's- brilliant," he told her. "Come- come here." He held his arms open where he laid in her bed.
She laid down carefully beside him, not wanting to inhibit his breathing but he had pulled her so her head rested on his shoulder. They had fallen asleep like that with Rosie in her crib at the foot of the bed. Early in the morning, Hermione had woken to Rosie's crying and realized that her husband's labored breathing had stopped.
His funeral befit his status as a war hero, and Hermione stood between Harry and Molly as they memorialized Ronald. Molly's tears were frozen in her grief at losing another child. The once mother of seven was then a mother of five. She held Rosie to her chest like she was her last lifeline. As for Hermione, Harry held one of her hands and her other hand rested where her unborn son was growing inside her.
When she had gone into labor, she had been at work and Molly had been watching Rosie as usual. It had taken Hermione by surprise even though she had known she was due in a few days. Thankfully she hadn't exactly needed to go far as her office and lab were only a floor below Labor and Delivery. Labor had gone so fast that by the time Molly was on her way, Hugo was already in her arms.
Her son looked so much like Ron it was physically painful. His ginger read hair could be nothing but a Weasley trait and he appeared to have a miniature version of Ron's wide, flat nose. Molly, Arthur, Harry, and Ginny had came flooding in as Hermione started to nurse. She hadn't realized she was crying until Molly dabbed at her cheek with a tissue. Her life had changed that day.
In muggle Britain, women were entitled to fifty-two weeks of maternity leave. Unfortunately, that was one aspect of Wizarding Society that had not caught up to its muggle counterpart. She had a mere three months to adjust to being the single mother of two before returning to work and beginning her newest project. That was why she found herself sitting at her desk writing letters to various expert brewers.
She took out a piece of parchment from her desk and consulted her list for the next brewer she should contact: Jack Hier from Wales. She hadn't found his name under any of the registries of Potions Masters or journeymen but they seemed to trust him with a variety of very difficult potions. While he mostly supplied the hospital with pain relief potions and burn pastes, she noted that he had also produced a number of advanced fertility potions and even—she gulped—a few of the doses of the potion Ron had required to slow the curse.
Hermione removed a ball point pen from her top desk drawer, one concession to practicality she had made since finishing Hogwarts, as much as her Wizard-raised counterparts made fun of her for it. Putting pen to parchment, she began writing a letter almost identical to the thirteen others that she had written over the last few weeks.
Dear Mr. Hier,
I am Healer Hermione Weasley, contacting you on behalf of the advanced research department of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am head of the research team recently responsible for discovering a cure for spattergroit. You may have read about it in the latest issue of 'Potions Quarterly' or in the Daily Prophet.
We are hoping to continue our research in curing some of the worst diseases facing the Wizarding world by creating a cure for lycanthropy. This disease carries with it not only horrible transformations during the full moon but also a great social stigma that prevents those affected from finding employment, obtaining an education, and participating in society in a normal manner as every other witch or wizard is entitled.
Our first phase of research is to make improvements on the current formula for the Wolfsbane potion to make it more readily accessible for sufferers. We aim to replace rare, expensive ingredients with lower cost alternatives and to simplify the brewing process without negatively affecting the potion's efficacy. We have already begun this phase of research but are in need of a potions expert in order to progress further.
In our second phase of research, we intend to create an actual cure for lycanthropy that would prevent transformation from occurring at all. Doing so will transform what was once a horrific, life altering condition into something inherently treatable.
Your name was given to me by Healer Janice Davis, in charge of coordinating the supply of healing potions to St. Mungo's. She spoke highly of the quality of your brews and recommended that we seek you out for the possibility of assisting in our research. Becoming a part of our team comes with a competitive salary and a flexible working schedule. You would also be offered the chance to work with individuals in the tops of their fields on an innovative project that could benefit all wizard kind.
I hope to discuss the possibility of you joining our team in person. If that is agreeable to you, please respond by return owl with a date and time that is convenient to you.
Sincerely,
Hermione Weasley
Head of Medical Research
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries
Hermione read of the letter quickly to check the letter for spelling and grammar. Finding no errors, she rolled the parchment and applied her seal. She walked to the mail department of the hospital which was located behind the hospital shop on the fifth floor of the building.
"Hello Esther," she greeted the witch in charge of outgoing mail.
"Healer Weasley," the older woman said with a nod. "Just one request today?"
"Indeed," she said. "This one is headed to Wales."
"Do you know the exact city?" Esther asked.
Hermione shook head. "No, like many of our brewers, he guards his exact location."
"You want a tracing spell on this parchment?"
"No best not seems like we're invading his privacy before he's even agreed to work with us," Hermione replied.
"Very well," Esther said. "Best use Zelda then. Zelda! Come!"
A particularly large barn owl hopped down from one of perches and stuck out her leg. Esther took the scroll from Hermione and tied it to the owl's leg. She fed the owl a treat and it flew out the open window.
Hermione thanked Esther and made her way back down to her office. Done with her correspondence for the time being, she returned to her research notes. She theorized that replacing the fluxweed with Rhodiola Rosea would allow them to cut the require amount of St. Jon's Wort in half and reduce the number of stirs at that phase of brewing from three hundred twenty down to forty-seven anti-clockwise stirs. The Rhodiola Rosea required a shorter time to simmer but a hotter flame in order to incorporate the ingredient into the mixture correctly.
Prior to beginning her research into replacing ingredients and simplifying the ingredients, she had created a large number of detailed charts placing the twenty-nine ingredients into categories. The two most important factors in making the potion more widely accessible were cost and ease of brewing. The two most important charts she used were cost of ingredients and volatility of ingredients, separating them into three categories each. She examined the chart on volatility again.
Least Volatile:
Distilled water
Lemongrass
Peppermint oil
Aloe Vera Juice
Fenugreek
Turmeric
Chamomile
Lavender
Moderately Volatile:
Essence of Grapefruit
Lacewing Flies
Bowtruckle liver
St. Jon's Wort
Asian Ginseng
Whomping Willow root
Echinacea
Milk of the Mooncalf
Valerian
Jobberknoll feathers
Highly Volatile:
Fluxweed
Doxy Eggs
Powdered horn of bicorn
Enchanted Belladonna extract
Thunder God Vine
Passionflower
Kava
Gryphon feather
Lycium
Flesh Eating Slug mucus
Aconite
From there, she cross referenced the list of the most volatile ingredients with the most expensive ingredients and came up with six ingredients that had the great impact on price and ease of brewing: fluxweed, flesh eating slug mucus, enchanted belladonna extract, gryphon feather, powdered horn of bicorn, and thunder god vine. Hermione estimated that if they eliminated those six ingredients, it would take the level of difficulty down from a masters level potion to an intermediate level potion that anyone having achieved an OWL in potions could create. It would also reduce the average cost per dose from twenty-four galleon a dose down to five to eight galleons per dose, depending on the replacement ingredients. If the brewing time was reduced, the cost of doses coming from apothecaries would also be greatly reduced. It still was far from an inexpensive potion but it was much more easily accessible for many families.
They had already found a suitable substitute for the fluxweed but there were at least five more ingredients to find appropriate substitutes for. If they were as fortunate as they were in the case of the Rhodiola Rosea, some substitutes might take the place of more than one ingredient or reduce the quantity needed of another ingredient. Her hope was to find an acceptable substitute for the powdered horn of bicorn next but it was proving more difficult than the the fluxweed substitution. Granted, animal based ingredients tended to be more difficult to find substitutes for.
She contemplated her charts for a few more minutes and then checked the time. It was three minutes to five which meant she could leave for the day. She cleaned up her notes, placing them in her top drawer, locking and warding the drawer for good measure. Tossing her lime green Healer's robes over her chair and donned her navy blue over robe on over her long skirt and white blouse. She made her way to the transportation room and with a pop apparated to Ottery St. Catchpole.
The air was brisk as she walked through the field toward the Burrow. Molly had very clearly been working on digging the beds for this years vegetable garden. The earth was freshly turned and Hermione could smell its deep, fresh scent. Thankfully, no mooncalf dung had been spread yet. She could hear the children laughing inside even as she approached the door. Teddy and Victoire were visiting for the week and she could hear Victoire telling Teddy to stop turning his nose different colors.
"Hello!" Hermione said cheerily as she came in.
"Hello dear," Molly said.
"Mommy!" Rosie called from the parlor, getting up from where she had been stacking blocks and running over to Hermione. She lifted her daughter up by the armpits and squeezed her tightly. "I missed you mommy!" she said.
"I missed you too, sweetheart," she said.
"Look what I can do!" Rosie said, pointing a chubby toddler hand at a block. Hermione watched in awe as the block rose a few inches from the carpet before falling back down. Rosie giggled, her red curls bouncing around her shoulders.
"That's wonderful, Rosie!" Hermione exclaimed, giving her tummy a poke. "Molly, have you seen this?"
"Amazing, isn't it?" Molly said. "She has your ability, Hermione."
"Oh Ron had plenty of power too," Hermione said, her chest tightening.
Molly smiled wanly. "Will you be staying for dinner?"
"If that's okay. I need to go to the market this weekend," Hermione said.
"Of course, dear," Molly said. "You're always welcome."
Rosie started wiggling in Hermione's arms so she set her down. As she did that, she heard Hugo begin to fuss in the bassinet near Molly. Before her mother-in-law could put down the potatoes, Hermione already had him in her arms. "Has he been fed recently?"
Molly shook her head. "I know you usually like to nurse him when you get here."
"Thank you," Hermione said, settling in a chair at the kitchen table and unbuttoning her blouse. She shushed the fussy baby and he quickly latched on.
"I do wish you'd reconsider living with Arthur and I, dear. It's so lonely for us here with all the children moved out. There's plenty of space for you and the children to have your own rooms and I can't imagine it's easy taking care of them all on your own," Molly told her.
"It isn't," Hermione agreed. "But I love the home that Ron and I built together. I just can't leave it, Molly."
Molly nodded but Hermione could see the tears in her eyes at the mention of her youngest son. Hermione sighed. "I'll think about it, Molly but for now, I need to stay where I am."
"I understand," Molly said. "Just know the offer always stands."
"I know," she replied. "I know." She looked down at her son who looked painfully like her husband and sighed inwardly. As tempting as it would be to let Molly take care of them all, she knew she needed to stand on her own two feet and forge her own way.
Author's Notes:
Posting earlier than usual because I anticipate a very busy weekend.
As usual, your reviews are the only payment I receive for writing this story. While the favorites and story follows are wonderful, nothing quite compares to getting written feedback. While I'm not one to hold chapters hostage until I get a certain number of reviews, they are very inspiring to be able to keep writing. I expect this story to be novel length (upwards of 50k words) and will be posting chapters weekly.
Once again, I am also searching for a beta reader. If anyone is willing to take on such a task, please let me know.
Updated 8/4/15 for minor grammar and spelling fixes