We're gonna do this Band-Aid style, okay? :-* I love you!

3 December 1985

Minerva crossed off the last item on her checklist and flipped idly through the freshly marked essays that were stacked up before her on the long table in the staffroom. It was early evening, and she had fallen behind on her marking again, but at least now the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students wouldn't be breathing down her neck about their overdue essays and homework.

"You're here late," Pomona said as she walked into the staffroom; she set a potted geranium on the table, spilling a bit of earth as the flower cooed happily. "Oh—sorry—they're freezing out in the greenhouses, I've got a broken pane I'll have to get Hagrid to fix," she said, by way of explanation when Minerva frowned. She brushed the dirt off the table and tipped it into the pot. "Everything all right with you?"

"Oh—yes," Minerva said, rolling her eyes. "Finn and I had a disagreement this morning. I'm trying to decide how long I can hide out up here before I go home with my tail between my legs."

Pomona looked amused. "What did you argue about?"

"He wants to find some work to do," Minerva began, "which I fully support, of course, I knew he wasn't going to stay retired very long, but he's talking this nonsense about leading one of those Scamander expeditions across the Hebrides, and I'm afraid I was less than agreeable about it."

"Did you wake up the neighbors again?"

"We did not—we do not shout!" Minerva insisted. "One time, just the once, a cat got into the bins next to their house and the racket woke them up, but it was just a coincidence that we were—having a loud conversation." Then she sighed. "Anyway, I snapped at him and I'm very embarrassed. Even though I maintain that worrying about him isn't a bad thing at all," she confessed.

"Of course it's not," Pomona said. "But one thing that you and Elphinstone have in common is that you'll both do exactly what you like, so the best thing you can do is agree to help out. It's what he'd do for you."

Minerva rested her chin in her hand. "I know."

"So you should go home before he thinks you're really angry with him," she prompted.

"I know." Minerva heaved another huge sigh. Then she smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice night." She picked up her papers and left the staffroom, saying her goodnights to the handful of other teachers by the fireplace.

When she had climbed the stairs up to her office on the first floor, she unlocked the door with a tap of her wand—and then, suddenly, she heard rushing footsteps behind her.

"Minerva!"

She spun around in time to see Pomona dashing towards her, clutching a small green envelope in her hand. "What on earth—?"

Pomona stuffed the envelope in her hand. "Just arrived—it's from St. Mungo's, the owl was for you—"

Minerva's stomach heaved, and she nearly tore the envelope in half trying to open it. "Oh, no—no, no, no—"

"What did you say the name was?" the rather tired-looking attendant asked Minerva, coming to a stop behind the desk of the nurse's station and facing her.

"Urquart, Elphinstone Urquart," Minerva told him, her throat burning horribly and tears threatening to rise. "Please, I know he's in this ward, it—it was a Venomous Tentacula bite, but he's not in the room they told me, where's he been moved?"

"He's been taken to a critical care ward," the helper replied, consulting a clipboard. "Are you family?"

"I'm his wife," she said hoarsely. "Please, you must—"

"You're here for Mr. Urquart?" asked a voice behind her. A young Healer in green robes stood before her. "Oh—Professor McGonagall."

Minerva blinked. "I—"

"I'm Healer Waterhouse—Rosie, actually, but you wouldn't remember me, I dropped Transfiguration, dead awful at it—oh, but never mind that—erm—here," she said, bringing Minerva to one side of the nurse's station. "You said that Mr. Urquart is your husband, yes? I've been tending to him."

"How is he?" Minerva asked immediately. "What happened?"

"He's not well, I'm afraid," Healer Waterhouse said. "It seems he was shopping in a nursery in Hogsmeade, and the owners made the call for an emergency Apparition when a Venomous Tentacula broke through its fencing and bit him." Minerva felt a surge of bile in the back of her throat. "The Tentacula bite is on his left shoulder, near his heart, and the venom spread quickly. He's not a young man…it's difficult to say what'll happen next."

Minerva stared at the Healer in utter, stunned silence, waiting for some assurance—some word of comfort, but she didn't go on.

"Let's get you to his room," she said gently, taking a step forward and touching Minerva's arm.

"Yes—please," she managed to croak, her voice stuck in her throat. She was entirely numb.

At the Healer's words, she had experienced a kind of break; nothing that happened to her from this moment forward could be real—those crystal bubbles illuminating the corridor, the people rushing back and forth, passing them, the Healer's muffled words as she brought Minerva deeper into the ward—none of it was real, it was simply impossible.

And then, suddenly, it was far too real.

"He's sleeping," Healer Waterhouse said gently, holding the door open for Minerva. "I'll give you some privacy. We're monitoring him."

Minerva nodded as the door closed, her eyes fixed on Elphinstone. He laid in the bed with his eyes closed, patches of his pale skin inflamed and purple with venom, his left arm wrapped in a thick layer of bandages.

Minerva felt her knees give way, and she stumbled into a chair. Though she couldn't quite stop herself from shaking, she took Finn's free hand in her own. It was almost ten minutes before he stirred, looking as though he were in pain. A layer of sweat had broken out across his forehead, and Minerva drew out her handkerchief, wiping his brow gently. Then, he opened his eyes slightly.

"There she is," he said softly, a brilliant smile spreading across his face. "Now I've done it, eh?"

"You'll be all right," she insisted, bringing his hand up to her cheek.

"'M a fool," he said, grimacing, his voice tight in his throat. His whole body tensed for a moment, another sheen of sweat coating his features.

"Are you in pain?" she asked. "I'll get someone."

"Don't go."

Tears filled Minerva's eyes. She leaned forward, dabbing at his forehead. "I won't," she promised.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he opened his eyes again and found her face. "Then I'll stick around, too."