Chapter Two: Loneliness is Cleanliness
The meeting with the Head of the Improper Use of Magic that Dumbledore had gotten him was a thousand to one chance, John knew, but maybe if he could plead his case effectively enough..
John had gone to Dumbledore's office the minute he heard about Rebecca, and watched Dumbledore sit impassively behind his desk as John fervently asked for help. "I may be only a muggle-born, but I've never heard of a wizard younger than a hundred to die naturally." He had said. "I don't know much about magical medicine, but I know that wizards are able to cure muggle diseases. I need you to help me."
"John," Dumbledore sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose "I know what's its like to lose a friend. But we can't just have a Muggle miraculously recover from an inoperable brain tumor. It would be too suspicious. We can't risk revealing ourselves."
"Professor," John said through clenched teeth. "It happens all the time! They have shows about it on cable, for God's sake!"
"That's usually just because of a misdiagnosis. Although sometimes," Dumbledore admitted "we do intervene. It is only in extraordinary circumstances when the muggle's death will have a great impact on future events."
John had walked to the side of the room and was staring out the window. "What you're saying," he said, barely keeping himself under control, "is that my friend isn't important, so it's okay for her to die, right?"
"John!" Dumbledore said, a little too quickly, "It's not like that. The decision isn't mine. This is a rule from the ministry. You don't realize how important-"
"Tell me the spell." John said suddenly. "I'll do it myself! If I have to live as a muggle, I don't care. It doesn't even have to be a spell. Tell me some plant or potion I can use, that's not really even magic. Nobody would know."
"That's not the point. The Ministry would know." Dumbledore said quietly. "They'd put you in Azkaban."
Rage flared in John's eyes. "Azkaban? They'd put me with murderers because I tried to save a friend's life?"
"You don't realize important it is to keep our existence a secret," said Dumbledore. "It wouldn't just be muggles asking for help with their problems-"
"Problems?" John roared. "I think a brain tumor is a little more than a problem!"
"Listen," said Dumbledore. "It wouldn't just be people asking for solutions to their problems. We have too much power for muggles to deal with. Imagine if wizards were drawn in to one of their wars. Hundreds of thousands of people could die."
"You're telling me what could happen," said John. "I telling you what will happen. Rebecca is going to die if she doesn't get magical help."
"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said. "It is fated. Death isn't as you think it is, John."
John put is hands on Dumbledore's desk and looked him in the eyes. He asked, "How can you be sure of that?"
Dumbledore lowered his eyes. "I can't"
"Thanks for nothing," said John bitterly, starting to leave.
"Wait," said Dumbledore. "I can get you an appointment with the head of the Improper use of Magic office. You can take it up with him. I can't do anything more."
John nodded, accepting Dumbledore's proposal. As he walked out of the room, John said in a deadly quiet voice "'Can't,' Dumbledore? Or 'won't'?"
The meeting with the Head of the Improper Use of Magic that Dumbledore had gotten him was a thousand to one chance, John knew, but maybe if he could plead his case effectively enough..
John had gone to Dumbledore's office the minute he heard about Rebecca, and watched Dumbledore sit impassively behind his desk as John fervently asked for help. "I may be only a muggle-born, but I've never heard of a wizard younger than a hundred to die naturally." He had said. "I don't know much about magical medicine, but I know that wizards are able to cure muggle diseases. I need you to help me."
"John," Dumbledore sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose "I know what's its like to lose a friend. But we can't just have a Muggle miraculously recover from an inoperable brain tumor. It would be too suspicious. We can't risk revealing ourselves."
"Professor," John said through clenched teeth. "It happens all the time! They have shows about it on cable, for God's sake!"
"That's usually just because of a misdiagnosis. Although sometimes," Dumbledore admitted "we do intervene. It is only in extraordinary circumstances when the muggle's death will have a great impact on future events."
John had walked to the side of the room and was staring out the window. "What you're saying," he said, barely keeping himself under control, "is that my friend isn't important, so it's okay for her to die, right?"
"John!" Dumbledore said, a little too quickly, "It's not like that. The decision isn't mine. This is a rule from the ministry. You don't realize how important-"
"Tell me the spell." John said suddenly. "I'll do it myself! If I have to live as a muggle, I don't care. It doesn't even have to be a spell. Tell me some plant or potion I can use, that's not really even magic. Nobody would know."
"That's not the point. The Ministry would know." Dumbledore said quietly. "They'd put you in Azkaban."
Rage flared in John's eyes. "Azkaban? They'd put me with murderers because I tried to save a friend's life?"
"You don't realize important it is to keep our existence a secret," said Dumbledore. "It wouldn't just be muggles asking for help with their problems-"
"Problems?" John roared. "I think a brain tumor is a little more than a problem!"
"Listen," said Dumbledore. "It wouldn't just be people asking for solutions to their problems. We have too much power for muggles to deal with. Imagine if wizards were drawn in to one of their wars. Hundreds of thousands of people could die."
"You're telling me what could happen," said John. "I telling you what will happen. Rebecca is going to die if she doesn't get magical help."
"I'm sorry," Dumbledore said. "It is fated. Death isn't as you think it is, John."
John put is hands on Dumbledore's desk and looked him in the eyes. He asked, "How can you be sure of that?"
Dumbledore lowered his eyes. "I can't"
"Thanks for nothing," said John bitterly, starting to leave.
"Wait," said Dumbledore. "I can get you an appointment with the head of the Improper use of Magic office. You can take it up with him. I can't do anything more."
John nodded, accepting Dumbledore's proposal. As he walked out of the room, John said in a deadly quiet voice "'Can't,' Dumbledore? Or 'won't'?"
