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2 A Slip of the Tongue

Healer Helene Meier-Landhoff sighed and raised her hands in a gesture of defeat.

"We haven't made any progress whatsoever in the last six weeks. We followed Caleb's suggestion for a new approach on the brewing process, but it took us nowhere. We're back at square one."

Her boss exhaled and nodded gravely.

"You know that the grant..."

"Jim, I know perfectly well that they won't renew the grant. What I also know perfectly well is that hundreds of children are suffering out there while we, the so-called experts in here are unable to get a simple potion right."

"Come on, Helen, calm down. It's not a simple potion. We're talking about Wolfsbane after all."

"Yes, I know. And I'm also aware of the fact that as the whole issue of werewolves is still a no-go-area for most of our society, research on the only remedy is not exactly popular. People just prefer to turn a blind eye, hoping that they or their dear ones will not be bitten, and leave the victims struggling with their problems. It's a shame that for years and years nobody has tried to tackle the side effects the potion has on children under 16 yet. Wolfsbane was developed at the beginning of the 20th century. Here. In Britain. There was a lot of praise from all over the world. But all those distinguished potion makers who claim that they are highly experienced and outstanding in their area of expertise and that their work is beneficial for wizarding society haven't taken much interest in adapting the formula for the treatment of young werewolves.

"It's business, Helen. It's all about profit. The market..."

"... is not big enough. I know. But it's not that the healers are any better, mind you," she added bitterly. "Actually, before I came along nobody bothered..."

"That's not quite true. Somebody did carry out research some years ago."

Healer James Fielding had interrupted the tirade of his younger colleague before she could go into more details about who had failed to do things and challenge the professionalism of British wizarding medicine. Helene – or Helen, as she had agreed to be called in Britain - had joined the team of St. Mungo's five years after Voldemort's defeat. She was German, highly qualified, very efficient and was known for the tendency of being very direct and straight forward with everything she did and with everyone she talked to, be it patients, colleagues or superiors.

Helene stopped mid-sentence, with her mouth slightly open and frowned. Her boss answered her curious stare with the bewildered expression of someone who couldn't quite believe what he had just let slip. His face turned an unbecoming shade of pink.

Helene leaned forward in her chair, a gleam in her eyes.

"Really? That's something I've never heard of. Who was it? Why are there no records?"

Healer Fielding took an uncomfortable breath, cursing himself inwardly for not thinking before speaking.

"It... it... wasn't official. It was more like a private research."

"Does it matter? Who did it? Can I consult them?" Helene was sitting at the edge of her chair now, eager eyes on the bearded face of her boss, who was fidgeting in his own behind his desk.

"I don't know if I..."

"If what? What's the problem? Surely Wolfsbane is not a classified potion and the research on it wouldn't be top secret!"

"Sorry, Helen, but I..."

"Oh, come on!"

"No, Helen, I can't tell you more before consulting someone in the ministry. I shouldn't have mentioned it at all, I just got carried away. I'm sorry I created this awkward situation, but, no, Helen, I must ask you to not pursue this any further for the time being."

Resolutely he stood, pushing his chair back with determination.

Helene grimaced, understanding that it would be useless to ask for more information.

"OK, Jim. I'm off now, but this is important. Don't forget to contact the ministry."

Her boss nodded unhappily. What, by Merlin's beard, had got into him? There was no easy way out of this. He had inadvertently opened this box of worms and now had to make sure that they could somehow control the damage. Helen would appear on his doorstep tomorrow and enquire after the results. She was a tenacious one, this woman from Germany.

Disclaimer: As usual, this story relies on ideas and characters created by J. K. Rowling