Pairing: HP/TR and an assortment of others
Disclaimer: I don't really own Harry Potter or Grey's Anatomy (which this was inspired by).
Note: Fairest was giving me a really hard time since it's always so dark and heavy. It's usually around this really plot heavy time that I hit writer's block, so here's a light-hearted medical dramedy.
Diagnosis
Chapter Eleven
"Hello, Harry."
She took a step into the room, her eyes never drifting from his face. It felt like she was staring past his skin, past the muscle, straight into his soul. She had always had that type of the stare, the type of stare that could rip you apart and stare right into your core. The type of stare that could read your every move and pick all your faults out, one by one. Except, maybe she could only do that to him.
"Thank you for blessing us with your presence, Mom," Harry drawled, aggressive as ever when confronted with a predator. He shrugged Hermione's hand off his shoulder, already gearing up for a fight.
"My daughter was mauled. You didn't think I'd come back as soon as possible?" Lily demanded, striding forward, her gaze caught on Lavender's beautiful face. The tears in her skin hadn't quite spared her but she was still beautiful to Harry.
"See I couldn't be sure exactly what kind of injury would be enough for you to, you know, parent. I don't remember broken arms ranking very high," Harry retorted nastily.
Lily's eyes narrowed and she stepped forward. "You were fourteen and the matron healed you immediately. No one told you to sneak out and fly in the Quidditch Pitch after curfew," Lily snarled and she turned away from Harry, her eyes stuck on her daughter. Her gaze softened and Hermione jumped up from her seat, pressing into the corner of the room.
Lily nodded to her and settled into the vacated seat, grabbing Lavender's hand tight in her own.
"Dad and Sirius are debriefing with the Auror Office and the Mediwizard that saved her," Harry said, quietly, putting aside his anger.
Lily looked up, her head tilted just so. "Who was it?"
"Bellatrix Black."
"She's good," Lily allowed. "Very good."
"She did good work," Harry admitted softly. He put his head back down on the pillow next to Lavender's face.
Lily sighed, staring at him. "You blame your father because his work is dangerous. You blame me for not being there."
"I do," Harry whispered.
"That's okay. That's okay for now," Lily said, quietly. She looked like she might reach for him, but seemed to think better of it, stiffening in her chair and squeezing Lavender's hand. Then, she leaned forward as if to say something when the door flew open.
James flew into the room, going straight to Lily's side. She tilted her chin up and pressed her lips to his in a quick greeting kiss.
"Hello, my love," James whispered. His voice sounded hoarse and terribly sad.
"Hello, my love," Lily whispered back as they always did when they reunited after a long separation. She looked up again as the door creaked open once more.
"Hello Potter, Auror Potter, Healer Evans," Vance said as she briskly entered the room. All of her usual giddiness was missing. Harry wasn't surprised. He supposed that all the joy was sucked out of you once you realized that your patient was the Lily Evans' child. "I'll be the primary Healer on Lavender's case."
"Emmeline?" Lily asked with a frown.
Vance held up her hand. "Healer Evans, I can assure you that I am the best in my field. I am currently Head of Creature-Induced Injuries and I will do everything in my power to make sure your child lives, and scarring is as minimal as possible."
"You can really do that?" James asked, almost afraid to hope.
Vance nodded. "Yes. I can. Her prognosis is good. If she makes it through the night, building her magical core and stamina, she'll survive a procedure."
Harry trembled. He jumped up from the bed, eyes wide. "Healer Vance, let me be on your service. Please," he begged.
"You know the rules, Potter. No family members," Vance said, warningly.
"Please, Healer Vance. She's my...she's my sister," Harry said, his voice cracking.
Vance had a stern but kind look in her eyes. "I know that. Which is why you can't be on this case. You're not at your best, and we both know this isn't your field. However, you may choose who assists me," Vance allowed.
"Hermione," Harry blurted out immediately. Hermione jerked to attention in the corner of the room. Harry looked over at her, wild-eyed. "She's the best. You know it. I know it. She's no-nonsense. She takes no prisoners. And she'll be real with me."
"Fine. Granger, you're on my service," Vance said. Hermione nodded once. Vance strode forward, tutting softly to herself as she finally surveyed the damage.
"She won't survive this," Lily said, her voice soft. "So much soft tissue damage. Organ punctures. And if she does...the amount of therapy...physical and mental...Merlin, my girl."
"Don't say shit like that, Mum!" Harry snarled, blinded by his tears.
"Healer Evans, I am quite sure that your daughter will make it. If we have anything to say about it," Vance said, firmly. "As long as the stasis charm holds, she'll be fine. However, I may need to perform an internal procedure. There's so much damage, that I wouldn't know where to start without opening her up. Do I have your permission, Healer Evans?"
"An internal procedure? But, that's...Emmeline…" Lily whispered. "And with just a trainee?"
"Harry's done them. I've watched. He can tell me everything to ensure your daughter's safety. I know the organs inside and out. Trust Healer Vance. She can do this," Hermione said, stepping forward immediately.
Lily's eyes widened as she looked at Harry and Hermione. Harry was staring at Lavender's face, a blank look in his eyes now.
"A last resort. Do you hear me, Emmeline? Last. Resort," Lily said, coldly.
"Of course," Vance said with a funny little nod of her head. She turned on her heel, beckoning sharply to Hermione. "Come now, Granger. There's work to be done."
DIAGNOSIS
Hermione stood in the office, pressed against the wall as Emmeline waved her wand, magically wiping all of the whiteboards in the room clean. The woman didn't look nearly as confident as she had seemed only moments earlier. She was talking to herself, shaking out her hands and she took a deep breath before she stopped pacing right in the middle of her office.
"You wouldn't have been my first choice," Emmeline muttered under her breath.
Hermione nodded once. "I understand that. You don't like me," Hermione said.
Emmeline looked up sharply, her eyes wide. A slight flush appeared.
"It's not...I mean…"
"I'm not bothered by it. Not many people like me. I'm pushy, loud, and an insufferable know-it-all, and I have the audacity of being black while being all of those things," Hermione said, laughing lightly.
Emmeline squeaked. "Wait, what? No, it has nothing to do with your skin," Emmeline snarled.
Hermione hummed, leaning back against the wall, amused. Her lips curled into a close-mouthed smile. "Okay. Good. But, you didn't deny any of the other things."
"You're very...sure of yourself. For a trainee," Emmeline said, delicately.
"You don't like me, but you've shown me professional courtesy, so I don't mind," Hermione said with a shrug. "When I was younger, I wanted everyone to like me. That's not the real world. I don't mind."
"Okay. I just...you wouldn't be my first choice. Some people don't mesh. I don't think we do, but you were requested and so I'll do what I must. No matter my...personal reservations, you are good, Granger," Emmeline said.
Hermione nodded once. "Thank you."
"My reputation is on the line here. I'm sure you understand that," Emmeline said.
Hermione nodded again. She understood that perfectly well. This was a case that would make or break Emmeline Vance's career. If Lavender Brown-Potter died on Emmeline's watch, in her magical theatre, her future would be ruined. This was Lily Evans' daughter. This was the daughter of, arguably, the greatest Healer alive. If she died…
"I am going to assist you in any way you need. Even if that means running to get you a tea or coffee," Hermione promised. Emmeline looked at her with wide eyes. "We are a team. You're point and I'm the support. I am here to learn from you. Because you are the Healer on this case."
Emmeline took a deep breath and nodded once, gathering herself. When she looked at Hermione again, there was a glint of steel in her eyes and she reached for a dry-erase marker. She tossed it to Hermione. Hermione fumbled for a moment, tossing it up again, once, then twice before she grabbed a firm hold on it.
"Okay. Good. I trust that. Now, let's get started," Emmeline began and she walked up to the closest board, jotting out notes. "We've got a girl, 16, with claw wounds that almost severed her aorta and vocal cords. She's half-dead and she might scar. She's nearly in pieces. It's our job to make her whole."
DIAGNOSIS
Lily watched him carefully from across the cafeteria table. Harry wasn't exactly paying attention to her. He was looking down at a stack of files, his quill moving back and forth at a pace that made even Lily dizzy.
"What are you doing?" James asked quietly.
"I'm still, technically, at work," Harry murmured.
"What service are you on?" Lily asked.
Harry paused, slowly looking up at her with bright eyes. "I'm not on a service. But, I'm going to be a Spell Damage specialist."
Lily hummed, bewildered and impressed. "The big leagues."
"I'm just big enough," Harry retorted snidely. Then, he seemed to catch himself and he let out a long sigh, breathing away the antagonization. He looked up, and he looked so tired. Lily recognized that exhaustion. Sometimes, she even missed it—the thrill of learning, the urge to be the best all the time. There was no motivation once you reached the top. "I was on pharmacy duty all day, so I was in the middle of studying. I closed the pharmacy and was going to dinner with a housemate, and then...well, Lavender was here."
"Your housemate. The girl? Hermione Granger, was it?" Lily asked.
James leaned forward. "The trainee you asked for?"
"Yeah. She's great," Harry said. His tone brooked no argument. James leaned back as if that satisfied him. He reluctantly pushed the limp greens around his plate with his fork. Harry went to look back down at his work, but Lily was still watching him. "What is it?"
"You did an internal procedure," Lily said. She sounded bewildered.
"Yeah. What of it?" Harry sneered.
Lily leaned forward. "When? You've only been a trainee for five months."
"My first day. There was a patient who was hit with a Heart-Fragmenting Curse and then, the Hela-Wasting Curse. The hearts weren't binding properly because one of them had rotted in his chest. It was…" Harry's voice softened as he thought back to that day. His first proper day at St. Mungo's, and even that was marred—no, not marred—by a memory of Tom.
"Brilliant," Lily said, staring at him as if he were a difficult Arithmancy problem. "Did you discover that on your own?"
"No. I had help. Hermione's. That's why I know she can do this," Harry said.
"You talk about her a lot. She...more than a friend?" James asked.
Harry snorted. "Nope. Still strictly dick-ly."
James groaned. "Merlin, Harry."
Harry smirked, delightful in his pettiness. He tried to ignore Lily's gaze, but he was forever trapped in it, put under a Magnifying Charm.
"Who was Head Healer on it?" Lily asked.
"Tom...Riddle," Harry said, tacking on his last name.
Lily didn't need to know his fucking sex life like everyone else in the damn hospital.
"He is arrogant."
"He's a dick," James added.
Two things that Harry wouldn't contest.
"He's a good teacher. He let me open up the patient," Harry said, his eyes bright and he leaned forward, a small smile playing on his lips. Lily's eyes narrowed on the move as if she could find the source of his distraction.
Before she could ask, she heard someone call, "Healer Evans."
Harry looked up as a tall, thin pale man approached. He looked about Harry's age, with a pointy chin, an equally pointy nose and hair so pale it looked nearly white. He had Luna's coloring, but he was so much colder. Harry's nose wrinkled.
"Ah, Draco. Come," Lily called. The young man approached, standing at her side. "James, Harry, this is one of my students—Draco Malfoy."
"Malfoy. Is Lucius Malfoy your father?" James asked.
Draco's nose wrinkling. "Ah, oui. Yes, I mean. Ma mère et…"
"English, Draco," Lily said, gently.
"I mean, my mother and father are separated. I do not see him quite so often now that I am grown," Draco said.
James snorted. "Good on your mum. Narcissa, isn't it?" James said, lifting his plastic cup up to him in a toast. Draco's lips twitched and he nodded in agreement.
Harry frowned, wondering why that name was so damn familiar.
"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, attempting some semblance of politeness.
Draco turned towards him and raised a single pale eyebrow, all the displeasure in the world in that one facial twitch.
"Indeed," Draco drawled.
Harry frowned. "Um, excuse me?"
"I was...expecting more from the great Lily Evans' son."
Harry reared back, surprised by the blatant rudeness. He glanced at James and Lily, wide-eyed, wondering if they had heard what he had. James shrugged, eyes wide, and Lily was watching, waiting for his reaction. As if it were some kind of weird test.
"How so?" Harry asked, his voice flat.
"You are short and do not seem very impressive," Draco drawled. "What is your specialty?"
"Spell Damage," Harry said through clenched teeth.
Draco hummed. "I would have...how you say..pegged you for an...Accidenter?" he said, as if unsure of his word choice.
Harry slammed his hands on the table, eyes narrowed. "Repeat what you said."
"Can you not, ah, hear?" Draco challenged.
"Oh, no, I can. I just want to make sure that I heard you right so I don't feel bad about punching you in your smug face, you pointy-faced git," Harry hissed.
Draco frowned, his head tilted. "What is…'git'?"
"It means that you're unpleasant. Bonjour, mon neveu."
Harry felt his heart stop. Narcissa. Narcissa Malfoy nee Black on the family tree. And that silvery line connected to…
"Oh fuck," Harry breathed as he looked up at Bellatrix. She was already embracing Draco as he babbled to her in French, his thin lips curled into a smug little smirk. Harry sneered. "Of fucking course."
"Harry, she saved your sister," James chided.
"Oh and I fucking appreciate it. But, she's a bitch. No offense, Mediwizard," Harry spat.
Bellatrix smirked. "None taken, sweetheart."
"What did I say about calling me that?" Harry snarled, his lips curled back into a sneer.
Bellatrix laughed, darkly, her breasts shaking with the force of her laugh.
"Harry, Harry, Harry, do you really want to get into this here? And now?"
Harry stood up, sharply, shaking his head. "I've got work to do."
"As do we," Lily said. She stood and made a sharp movement to Draco, and he stepped away from Bellatrix, the picture of professionalism again. "Draco, I must wrap up loose ends in France."
"Oui, Guérisseur," Draco agreed.
"Alas, I do not come on purely familial motives. Auror Potter, there's been an update on the VIP patient. Come, let us talk," Bellatrix said. She paused, regarding Harry with a look. "Discretion, Potter."
"I know," Harry spat and he stormed away, shaking his head.
Somehow, he felt like he had failed Lily's little test.
DIAGNOSIS
He cleared his throat, running his hands through greasy hair before he knocked on the door. It had been in his daily habits, for the first month or so, to do this exact routine, ready to vent about his day, before he remembered that she wasn't there. Before he remembered that she had gone off to France to do whatever the hell it was instead of being in England, in St. Mungo's (with him) where she belonged.
Severus didn't have to remember this time. Now, he knew that she was behind the door, in her office as she always was. So, he knocked and then opened the door without waiting for her invitation.
She was just as beautiful as ever. Her hair was shorter. The last time he had seen her, it had gone past her shoulders in delicate waves. The crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the lines around her mouth had only been there when she was laughing. Now, she grimaced and for the first time, Severus felt his age and hers.
She hadn't even noticed him enter.
"Lily," he said, his voice gentle.
She still hadn't noticed. She was standing by the glass wall that looked out towards the lobby, speaking in terribly fast French to two young people. A young woman had her head bent forward as she went through what looked like case files, and a young blonde man was scrawling how Lily's dictations.
"Lily," Severus repeated.
Lily jerked to a stop and spun to face him. Her eyes wide.
"Oh, Severus. Hello," she said. Her lips curled into a small smile. "How are you, my friend?"
"I am well. I'd be better if you had visited under less pressing circumstances," Severus said. Lily came to him, grabbing his hands in her own and she looked at him and sighed, nodding in agreement.
"I'd be better too. These are my students. Draco is writing instructions back to France for me," Lily said with a tiny smile.
"Are you not returning?" Severus asked.
"How can I? My daughter is injured. Even if she...survives...she'll need extensive PT. I need to be here for it," Lily said.
Severus' eyes widened. "Will you come back to St. Mungo's?
Lily frowned, pained.
"No. I don't expect so. Not yet, anyway."
Severus jerked his hands away from her, shaking his head in disbelief. She looked at him, her lips pursed as if willing him not to explode. It hadn't worked when they were children and it certainly wouldn't not. Severus crossed his arms, defensive.
"Why not?"
"I have to focus on Lavender's PT."
"That's not why. Is it because of your son?" Severus couldn't help but spit out the word. He couldn't help the disdain and irritation that itched at his skin as he thought about that bitter little boy that reminded him far too much of James fucking Potter.
"In part," Lily allowed. "This is his workplace."
"He's an arrogant brat, Lily, just like his father. If you heard all of the things that he's been up to—" Severus began, rage burning through him and Lily shook her head, rolling her eyes as she watched Severus with those knowing eyes. He hated those eyes as much as he loved them. She could always see right through him.
"I don't care. Harry works here. He doesn't need his mother hanging around. He'll be good. Great, even, if he can get his head on straight. He did an internal procedure...Merlin, on his first day," Lily said, whispering to herself. She blinked, suddenly looking even more tired than before and she took a step forward. Severus flinched backward. "Now, Severus, I'm very tired, and I have a lot of work to do."
He knew a dismissal when he heard it. Outraged, he started, "But, Lily, I—"
"Severus, I don't have time right now," she said, her expression firm as she backed him out of the door. She slowly shut it in his face and the paused. The crack in the door only revealed a sliver of her face and one bright green eye. "I'll speak to you later. I promise."
DIAGNOSIS
"You."
"You," Tom mocked, sneering back at him. Harry sniffed, stomping past him and sliding the old case files back into their proper places on the library shelves. He turned back around to walk past the older man, but Tom's hand flew up, blocking the aisle off. "You've got a lot of fucking nerve, Harry."
"Fuck off, Tom," Harry retorted.
Tom shook his head. "Your sister is dying downstairs and that's all you have to say to me?"
"That's exactly all I have to say to you. I don't have...time for this bullshit when my sister is downstairs dying. So, what more is there? Do you need it in writing?" Harry demanded.
"You're so full of shit," Tom barked. Harry's eyes widened at the man's words, and he crossed his arms over his chest, defensive to the very end. "You complain about everything and you're bitter because you like to be bitter. You like to wallow in your own fucking angst."
"Wow. This coming from the man that puts his work before the love of his fucking life because you think you can only have one thing?" Harry demanded.
Tom scoffed, shaking his head.
"You're making a lot of assumptions."
"Oh, don't give me that, Tom," Harry drawled. "I'm...I'm so tired of being nice."
"You've never been nice," Tom said, his voice low. He took a step closer, his eyes raking over Harry's body. And Harry knew that what he looked like—ill, exhausted, and he probably smelled antiseptic, both clean and dirty. Still, Tom looked at him as if he were beautiful.
He shivered.
"You followed me up here. I...I accepted your fucking choice. You chose your work. I asked one thing of you. Let me hate you," Harry snarled.
Tom rolled his eyes. "You can hate me all you want, but you're a Spell Damage trainee. We're going to need to work together."
"Not anytime soon. Not until my sister is...on the mend," Harry said. He closed his eyes.
His sister on the mend. What a joke.
And then there was hand on his cheek. He looked up at Tom with wide eyes. Tom's eyes were serious as he rubbed his thumb over Harry's cheek in slow circular motions.
"Bellatrix is a good mediwizard. Her work isn't shoddy and she did her very best on your sister in the field. Emmeline Vance is very good at what she does, sweetheart. She's going to live," Tom said, firmly. He took Harry's face in his hands, bringing their foreheads together.
"I don't know what I'd do if she died," Harry said, quietly.
"You'd move on." Harry jerked back, wounded, but Tom didn't let him get far. "You're a survivor. You would grieve and scream and shout and then you'd move on. But, it's not going to come to that. She's going to live. And if she doesn't, you'll move on."
Tom leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to Harry's forehead. Harry looked away, and he did something he hadn't done in a long time—blush.
"Stop it," Harry whispered.
Tom rolled his eyes and nodded, releasing him. "I know. I know. You may go back to hating me now."
Harry peeled away and walked down the aisle, leaving Tom behind him. Harry jerked to a stop as he saw a slight blonde woman standing by the end of the aisle, staring at him with a curious look on her face. Harry's eyes narrowed.
"Were you listening in on my conversation?" Harry demanded.
"Qu'est-ce que ç'est?" she babbled in a bubble gum sweet voice. "Je ne sais pas parler englais."
Harry cringed. "Sorry. Nevermind. Do you need to go to the lobby?"
"Lo-bby?" she said, sounding out the word and shaking her head.
Harry nodded and walked away, his head bowed forward. He missed the way the bubblegum sweet girl's expression melted away, revealing impassivity. The young blonde woman straightened and strode out, her short heels clicking quietly as she pulled her cloak tighter around herself. She walked in the opposite direction of her boss' son, taking the back stairwell back to her office.
Astoria Greengrass didn't have to go far to get to Lily's office. She didn't knock, swinging the door open and both Lily and Draco looked up, surprised by her appearance.
"Astoria, où—" Draco began.
"English, Draco. We are in England now," Astoria said, her accent thick and throaty. She turned to Lily, her eyes narrowed. "Healer Evans, I was upstairs in the library."
"What is it?" Lily asked, immediately, turning away from the loose ends she was trying to tie up. Draco finished up his last letter, passing it to her. She didn't even look down as she signed it and folded it neatly. She passed it back to Draco to seal.
"I saw something."
DIAGNOSIS
"Come in," Emmeline called, frazzled. She pulled out her pocket watch and winced. It was nearly two in the morning on Christmas Day, and they hadn't made any ground. They kept going in circles, back to the wounds.
Hermione looked back at the board, at the light sketch of a female body. It was a simple outline in black. Red marked all of the wounds, green streaks circled superficial, and blue circled the critical points. It was a mess. Everything about it was a mess. She looked up even as her head fell forward, exhaustion weighing heavily over her.
The door creaked open and Hermione smiled gently when a head of red hair peeked through the crack.
"Hey, Ron," Hermione said with a wave.
Emmeline stumbled over a stack of papers—old case files that they had looked through for precedent. There was none.
"Ron!" Emmeline squeaked. "What brings you here?"
"Hey, Em. We come bearing gifts," Ron said. Hermione nearly collapsed in happiness as he pushed the door open and Neville paraded in with two enormous cups of coffee in his hand. A little magical kettle was hanging from Ron's hands, a basket of tea bags in his other hand.
"You're a lifesaver, Ron," Emmeline said, gratefully taking the mug from Neville. "And you too, Longbottom."
"You're welcome," Neville said with a little smile. He watched as Emmeline greedily gulped down her black coffee, uncaring how scalding it was. She didn't complain once, only looking more rejuvenated the more she bathed her mouth in the bitter liquid.
Hermione hummed as she looked up at Ron. Ron held his hand out and passed her mug to her. She held it between her hands, shivering. Ron knelt down so that they were eye-level and he reached forward, bumping her chin up so that they were looking one another in the eye.
"Are you coming home, hag?" Ron asked, gently.
"I can't. This is...this is his sister and he asked for me," Hermione whispered. Her voice cracked as she finally let herself break down. "I can't fail him. Not in this."
"You won't. You're brilliant, Granger. You got this," Ron said, reassuring.
Hermione gave a weak smile and nodded, taking a sip of the coffee. She paused, tilting her head. "Two spoonfuls of sugar, and a splash of half-and-half."
"Yeah, that fake shit you like. I live with you. Of course, I know how you take your coffee," Ron scoffed. He was smiling though and Hermione's smile widened just a little bit. She laughed softly to herself, nodding. Ron looked up at Emmeline. She was watching, a cracked smile on her face. "How you doing, Em?"
"I'm...we're working hard. We're exhausted. We're going to crash," Emmeline said in stilted sentences. She looked deep in thought and she turned her gaze back to the board, shaking herself as she set her empty mug down.
"Sleep a REM cycle, get back up. You won't be able to think straight until you sleep," Neville said earnestly. Emmeline looked at him as if she had forgotten that he was there. "You just had a cup of coffee, but in a few hours. Around six, try to sleep until nine or so."
"Good idea," Emmeline whispered. She stood and crossed to the board, pointing out a wound. "Okay, so the carotid artery is sliced, but she's not dead. That was done...this was all intentional. That's easily done, but she scars. If she scars...the mental damage is going to be something awful. She'll be in constant pain too."
"So, we figure out how to keep it from scarring," Hermione said, firmly. She faltered. "That's impossible, though. Werewolves are creatures of Dark magic. Dark magic scars."
"Magic scars. Period," Ron interjected. The two women glanced at him, wide-eyed. "It takes a delicate hand to knit skin with magic. It takes an even finer hand to keep it from scarring. It almost "
"So, we keep it from scarring," Emmeline whispered. She shook herself, slapping her cheeks lightly and she stood, shaking her head. "But, that's not...main concern is stopping her from dying. Scars are whistles and bells. We've got bandages holding her organs in. We're keeping her alive on stasis. She's going to need to eat soon, but her stomach is basically in shreds."
"There are plants that she can absorb through her bloodstream if injected. It's all magical, so she won't need to process it like normal food," Neville added.
Both Emmeline and Hermione's heads whipped around to stare at him and he flushed under their stare.
"Can you get us the plants? And a full report? And maybe teach us how to give it to her?" Emmeline asked, frantically.
"Absolutely," Neville said firmly. "Not even a question. I'll figure out what exactly to give her. Get me a report on her nutrient balance, and I'll figure out what...and you two figure out everything else."
"You two can do it. If anyone can, it's you two," Ron said with so much earnestness in his voice Hermione let out a quiet laugh. Ron grinned down at her. He tapped the top of her head and rubbed. It frizzed up and Hermione weakly slapped his hand away. "Do you want your coconut oil shit?"
"Yeah. Thanks, arse. Good night," Hermione sighed.
"Good night, hag," Ron smirked. He gave a little wave to Emmeline and his grin softened into something more polite. "Good night, Em."
"Goodbye, Ron," Emmeline said, her voice paper thin. The door closed behind the trainees and Emmeline turned back to Hermione. "What about creating a spell?"
"Spell creation takes too long. We'd need to get it approved, and she's got three days. Max. Does Spell Damage know anything that combats Dark magic originating from werewolves?"
"Doubt it. What about…"
DIAGNOSIS
Harry knocked lightly on the cracked door. The matron that had been tending to Lavender's wounds looked up from her work. Her stern gaze softened when she took in Harry's expression and she beckoned him in.
"Um...hi. I'm Harry," he whispered.
The matron sighed. "I know who you are, babe. I'm Demelza, the matron on your sister's case. How can I help you?"
"I'm...I'm off work, but I don't wanna go home," Harry said. He winced and wrapped his arms around himself and looked at her with wide eyes. "I don't...people will ask me questions if I go to an on-call room. And this is the Children Ward. No one...no one comes here."
"You want to sleep here?" Demelza asked, gently.
Harry nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Y-yes, please."
And Demelza couldn't be much older than him. Truly, she was probably younger. Matrons could start right out of Hogwarts, unlike Healers, who had to get a few extra NEWTs and some further testing under their belts. She opened the door further for him and then closed it behind him. She turned back and waved her wand, Conjuring a small little cot right next to Lavender's bed.
"You've had a long day, Harry Potter," Demelza said.
He nodded, letting out a quiet hiccup.
"It's been a long life," Harry whispered back. He walked past Lavender, running his fingers over her knuckles, and murmured, "Happy Christmas, sis."
He closed his eyes and tried to imagine her voice.
Happy Christmas, bro-bro.
Harry settled on the cot. He was too tired to cry. He folded his arms under his head and turned on his side so that if he lifted his head just so, he could see Lavender's hand and the end of her curls. Demelza pulled out a thin blanket from her stack and opened it, lieing it over him. "I don't want to go to sleep. What if she dies while I'm sleeping?"
"Get some sleep, Harry Potter. She'll make it through the night. I promise."
Harry yawned, his exhaustion finally settling over him. "First rule of being a Healer: don't make promises you can't keep."
His eyelids felt like weights were attached and there was sand in the corner of his eyes.
"Lucky that I'm a matron then. Now, go to sleep."
Harry yawned, and whispered to himself, "It's a beautiful day to conquer death."
And Harry did what he was told.
:::
A/N: First: Hand slipped. Again. It happens when you're bored at an airport all day. I had nothing else to do.
Second: I wrote this entire chapter to repeats of Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol and How to Save a Life by the Fray. Those are staple Grey's Anatomy songs for sadness.
Third: Might be a while before I update because I want to focus on the Fairest Saga and Showmen. Also, my first day of classes is tomorrow.