From above, light flickered through the glass ceiling of the Great Hall, the thousands of floating candles giving off a warm yellow light, making the top of the building glow, like a torch in the night. The gentle murmur of a large crowd came wafting through the wind, along with the smells of a delectable feast. In the Great Hall, Harry, Ron and Hermione settled into their seats, craning their necks, looking around to see the various random seats in which the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students had been scattered. At the head table, which had been specially elongated, seats for the staff members of the visiting schools and ministry officials being put in place, Professor Dumbledore stood to address the crowd.
"Students, Staff, and guests. You have come from many corners of our world to grace us here at Hogwarts with your presences, and for that we thank you. Although this may be slightly delayed, I hope that from now, we, the Hogwarts community can offer you the full hospitality that our wonderful school has to offer, and that the coming months are full of joy and merriment, as well as sporting competitive spirit, and that you all make friendships that will stand the test of time. Amidst gathering clouds, let us be the light that drives back the darkness. I bid you welcome, and dig in!"
The quiet in the hall in deference to Professor Dumbledore was broken in an instant with his words, and the crowd exploded into motion and sound, the chattering of conversation rising to a buzz, clattering from cutlery and a great many people began to feast. Hermione had found the Durmstrang student that she had talked to previously in the tent, and was once more engaging him in conversation, her food laying mostly untouched on her plate as she spoke eagerly. Ron snorted, watching the pair with a sneer unsuited to his face, turning to Harry. Speaking in a scathing tone, he jerked his head at the two speaking.
"Look at them. I guarantee that one's a bookworm as well. Who knew Durmstrang even had her kind there?"
As Ron shook his head, Harry grinned, his mouth full of bacon. He nudged Neville, the quiet boy sitting next to him, gesturing at Ron's clear frustration and then pointing at Hermione, talking excitedly with her new friend. Neville chuckled lightly to himself.
"Ahem… Ron, I think Harry might just be saying you might be a little jealous."
Ron turned to the two, looking quite affronted.
"Jealous? Me? I have no idea what you two are on about. Jealous? Me? As if."
On cue, the twins swept behind Ron from where they had been gallivanting around the room, each grabbing one of his shoulders, and looking at Hermione from behind them.
"Oho!"
"Is little Ronniekins- "
"A wee bit jealous- "
"That his oh so good 'friend' Hermione- "
"Is talking to that nice young man over there?"
The twins alternated speech, whispering into Ron's ears directly. They immediately flushed red, and Ron waved them off angrily. The two cackled, disappearing back into the rowdy atmosphere of the hall. Harry and Neville met each other's eyes, nodding knowingly, before they both turned to look at Ron.
"Oi! You two! What was that supposed to be!"
As Ron started to protest, his arms coming up, waving more and more violently, Hedwig came soaring in, a welcome distraction to the redheaded boy. He snatched up the letter with all the desperation of a dehydrated man in a desert who had finally come across an actual oasis, and opened it swiftly.
"Hey, it's from that reporter we wrote a letter to! Hey, uh, Hermione!"
With a rather smug look on his face that he couldn't quite keep hidden, Ron went over to Hermione, breaking her off mid-sentence, to show her the letter.
"We got a response, come on, let's take a look!"
Hermione froze, and glanced at the letter. With a slight sigh, and a reluctant look at her friend, she made her excuses, following Ron back over to where he and Harry were seated.
"That better be worth it! I was just having an incredibly interesting chat about the European education system-"
Ron rolled his eyes, unfolding the paper, and pushing it into Hermione's hands.
"Read it!"
Miss Granger,
Thank you very much for your letter. I am pleased to see that young students have an interest in the news, and also have the sense not to take everything purely at face value. Hopefully I can give you a proper explanation. By tomorrow morning, I will have sent the final draft of my latest article covering this new virus to my editor, and with luck it will be in the morning edition of the Prophet.
I arrived in Hungary two days ago…
-line break-
…Adalena Fenetre stepped out of the floo grate, brushing ash off of her shoulders with a practiced ease. Looking around her, the reporter frowned slightly at the bustling streets of the magical community of Hungary, before stepping out of the entrance area, and moving into the throng. Adalena glanced around, looking down at a crisp new map, trying to correspond the mess of shops and shoppers around her with the labels on the parchment.
Turning around a corner, her eyes lit up as she saw the sign in the distance, a modified Rod of Asclepius, a single snake entwined around a wand. Adalena headed towards the sign, shuffling through the crowd, before making her way through one of the many doors, entering the hospital. Once inside, she headed towards the harried looking receptionist, drawing another, slightly crumpled piece of parchment from her robes.
"Excuse me, I'm with England's Daily Prophet. I have an appointment to speak with Healer Zoe Kovacs?"
The receptionist looked balefully at Adalena over her glasses, before gesturing to the stairs in the center of the room.
"A reporter… hmph. 3rd floor, 2nd door on the left."
With that curt statement, the receptionist returned to the pile of parchment on the desk, wand dancing as they sorted themselves into neat piles. With a slightly unsure 'thank you', Adalena walked over to the double helix stairs in the middle of the lobby, and started climbing.
As she reached the second floor, she stopped suddenly, movement in her peripheral vision catching her eye, just in time to avoid being bowled over by a floating bed, nurses tending to a limp patient as they were rushed to another ward. Adalena walked over cautiously to the door she had been directed to, solid oak, with a brass plate, engraved with the name 'Healer Zoe Kovacs'. Knocking on the door, she waited for an answer.
"Come in!"
The response was quick, and Adalena opened the door, heading inside. The chaos and noise of the hospital was immediately left behind as the door closed gently behind her, the office a calm and sedate atmosphere. At the desk, arms crossed on the table and head laid upon them, was the woman she assumed to be Healer Kovacs.
"Excuse me, Healer Kovacs? Are you quite alright?"
As she neared the desk, the figure moved, nodding with her face still planted firmly in her arms.
"Oh I'm good, thank you. Just a little tired…"
Kovacs raised her head, and smiled wanly at Adalena.
"Please, sit."
The reporter sat at the chair in front of the desk, waiting as the healer leaned back in her chair, bringing out a quill and paper as she did so.
"So, you're a reporter right? Adalena Fenetre? I read that article of yours a while back, it was one of the few that actually covered what was going on here, so I do thank you for that. What brings you here to Hungary?"
Adalena smiled at the praise, before responding.
"Well, it's not too common for a potentially new sickness to be discovered, so there is definitely an element of journalistic interest, wanting to be the first to break those interesting stories. But more than that, I just felt that this one was important, that I should dig deeper. I don't have too much influence or reach, but I do write for one of the bigger papers in England, even if most of my articles are buried under the rubbish gossip that we sell in our rag. I thought I could help, maybe even intercept, or at least warn some people about what might be coming. Of course, I definitely hope that this is nothing… although, and I know this is terrible, but there is a tiny part of me that wishes it might be something big. I've been stuck writing these tiny articles on the price of cauldrons, and unusual weather events for so long, I just want to do something that matters, you know?"
Kovacs raised her eyebrows, chuckling as Adalena reddened.
"Ah I'm sorry! I didn't mean to say so much… what I mean is, well, what I'm here for is, the virus! Yes, that. Can you tell me about the situation on the ground, and your analysis as a healer?"
The mirth faded from Kovacs' face as the conversation turned, and she settled back into her chair, before speaking.
"It's not good. We've identified that it's deadly in about one or two per every hundred cases or so, which may sound ridiculously low, but it's really not. Dragon Pox was quite the scare, still is used as a threat by parents, but for example, in England, there were only seven deaths we could confirm were from Dragon Pox. That's looking at a mortality rate of around one in every thousand cases. That's ten or twenty times worse than one of the worst diseases the wizarding world has ever faced. And because it's early on, we actually don't know if this is the final mortality rate. We've observed that whatever it is that causes the sickness and death takes quite a long time to fully emerge, which is why we suspect that this is actually some strain, or some changed form of the muggle virus that was mostly under control last year. It's only now emerging in witches and wizards, but it's somehow managed to turn into something that is not only efficient in spreading, but very good at targeting magical individuals only. We could have hundreds of people in this very town who carry the virus, but either haven't started showing any symptoms yet, or who won't ever show any symptoms, but can carry and spread the virus all the same. I can only tell you the mortality rate per number of cases that we have found, here in this very ward. And that's about one or two percent. But I need to stress, even if it stays that way, while it might sound like very little, it's a dangerously high number."
Kovacs sighed, and sunk her head into her hands.
"We're struggling with how to find those who aren't showing symptoms. We only know the people in our ward are sick because they're all showing the same symptoms, and have had contact with people who are sick. The ICW sent in a team, they're working with me, potions masters trying to find a way to identify the presence of this illness through some kind of potion, and healers working through old diagnostic spells that might catch it. And then obviously, there's the problem of treating those who are seriously sick, and preventing more people from catching it… We're swamped, Adalena. And sooner or later, our neighbors will be too. Then Germany, France. Don't think you'll be spared because you've got a little puddle between you and the continent, this is coming for Britain as well. We all need to be prepared, we need to have some kind of communication measures, we need to help each other."
Adalena scribbled furiously on her parchment, trying to keep up with the healer's glum assessment. Placing her quill down, she cleared her throat, asking.
"Well, Healer Kovacs. What do you need? What should we do?"
Kovacs nodded to herself.
"We need support. Our magical leaders aren't very favorable to this kind of news being publicized, that's why I haven't gotten any support from my own government yet. I had to go over their heads, straight to the ICW. It would be good for raising awareness if you could just show the people what's happening here, get some pressure on my government, but also galvanize all of your leaders to actually be ready for this. If we could get medical representatives from some of the bigger countries to come over and actually take a look, take reports back to their governments, that would be amazing. But honestly what we need most is manpower, money, and support. Attention would be a good start for that."
Adalena nodded slowly, before speaking up.
"I've actually been in contact with a healer back in St. Mungo's, a trainee, but one with very interesting ideas. You said that this could be a changed version of the muggle virus, right? His name is Augustus Pye, perhaps he could offer a different point of view on this issue? Would you like me to get in touch with him, talk him through a little more of what's going on?"
Kovacs tilted her head, looking defeated. With a tired shrug, she grunted her approval.
"Might as well. Here… Geminio! Take these, my notes on the patients we have so far, give them to him. Tell him to send back any observations he might have, would you? And you should read through those notes as well. If you can, you might want to put some of the notes on your article."
Adalena nodded, storing the papers that Kovacs gave her away into her robes. As she stood to leave, she turned back to Kovacs, looking the healer in the eye.
"Zoe? I promise you, I'm going to do my best to get this information out there. You're not alone in this."
For the first time, Adalena saw a warm smile cross the healer's face, a flicker of optimism, buried almost instantly by a mask of cool professionalism. Kovacs' voice, however, could not hide the gratitude she was unwilling to show on her face.
"Thank you, Adalena. Thank you."
Turning, Adalena softly walked towards the exit, leaving the Healer to her work, the light scratching of a quill on parchment already audible as she exited into the chaos of the hospital once more.
-line break
I hope you now believe what I also believe to be true. That this is much more than a simple cold, or a wayward muggle sickness, but something that is uniquely targeting those with magic. A virus, one that is spreading rapidly. As Healer Kovacs told me, we have no idea of just how far this might have spread before we just now are seeing the first symptoms arising. I bid you to be careful, but also to act. While you may be just students, I believe there is much you can do to help prepare our world to deal with this virus.
I have enclosed the copies of the notes that Healer Kovacs made, so feel free to take a look at the information directly from the source. I imagine your headmaster, being the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, has already been briefed on this, but you might want to talk with him either way, even suggest to him some ideas if you can come up with any.
Best,
Adalena Fenetre,
The Daily Prophet
As the three friends finished reading, the previously cheery atmosphere had all but vanished, an air of glumness and shock surrounding them, in stark contrast to the rest of the hall, still joyfully celebrating the true opening of the Triwizard Tournament. Ron opened his mouth to speak, his tone aghast.
"Blimey."
