50. Career Day
"Good Christ," Susanna exclaimed the next morning when she came down from her room. Rubbing her head, she said, "I've never felt so groggy." Callie and Neville exchanged a glance, and they both had to struggle to suppress their grins. "What time is it?" Susanna asked.
"Eleven thirty," Callie replied.
"Bloody hell, I slept the whole morning away."
"Oh, that's all right. We only just got up ourselves."
The woman poured herself a cup of coffee and joined them at the table. "I'm going into work this afternoon," she said. To Neville, she explained, "Holidays are always fun at the hospital. Family quarrels, everybody liquored up - lots of post-festivity injuries." She smiled as though she were rather excited about it.
"The 'good doctor,'" Callie said sarcastically. "Looking forward to the blood and guts and broken bones, she is."
"Didn't you say you had your dad's personality?" Neville asked. "The two of you sound just alike."
"Ugh, you compared me to her," Susanna teased. "I'm offended."
"You love me," Callie said, smirking.
"Yes, I do - in spite of everything." The woman rose up and patted her daughter on the back. "I need a shower," she said, making her way back up the stairs.
When she was gone, Callie remarked, "Not a bad idea." Raising a brow to Neville, she said, "Let's wait 'til she's gone and then see if we can't get that bathtub rocking."
"Wicked lass," he said, pulling her in for a kiss.
Thank God for working mothers, because they were keen on taking advantage of every opportunity to be alone together before going back to Hogwarts. Her Herbology book had remained unopened throughout the rest of the week, as they were much more interested in studying each other than plants. On the last day of break, they were lying in bed after a particularly satisfying session, when Callie said, "I'm really going to miss this." She paused, and then joked, "Eh! How would you feel about dropping out and running away together?"
"You know I'd follow you anywhere, love," he replied with a wistful look on his face. "But I worked too damn hard getting you that Herbology O.W.L. You're going to put it to good use and become the brilliant, world-famous healer you were meant to be - and then you'll have me to thank for it all."
Smiling down at him, she teased, "The man behind the woman," and placed a kiss on his lips.
If there was one thing she was looking forward to about going back to Hogwarts, it was that Healer Winslow really had arranged that private tour of St. Mungo's. He arrived at the castle the first weekend of the new term to escort her to London.
"Miss Warbeck," he greeted with a friendly smile.
"Healer Winslow," she replied, shaking his hand.
"Please, call me Liam."
"All right. But I still prefer Miss Warbeck," she said with a wink.
"Hmph. Cheeky lass, you are."
"That's what they say. It's good to see you again... Liam. I really appreciate you doing this."
"Oh, no need for thanks," he said. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity to spend the day with one of Horace Slughorn's star students."
They traveled from the potions master's fireplace, to the one in Winslow's office at the hospital. "Welcome," he said as she stepped out of the flames after him. "Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee, pumpkin juice?"
"Not right now, thanks," she replied, looking around. On one of the walls, she noticed a gold medal hung from a purple ribbon, and asked, "Is that an Order of Merlin?"
"Yes, Second Class," he replied. "I received it during training for my research into cursed objects. Still hoping for that First Class green ribbon, eventually."
Over to the side, she spotted a couple of melted cauldrons and a broken broomstick. Winslow noted the curious expression on her face and explained, "Remnants from the holidays. People tend to get a bit excitable during the 'most wonderful time of the year.' All that Christmas cheer." He pretended to be drinking something, and Callie understood. "Next thing you know, they suddenly think they're an expert potioneer, or they get the idea to fly off for a joyride." He picked up the broken broom and said, "This poor bloke had a bit too much Irish eggnog and ended up crashing right into Big Ben."
She had to smile to herself; it was just like her mum had described regarding holiday injuries at the muggle hospital. "Yes, everyone's a bit more courageous when they're filled with the Christmas spirit," she said.
Returning her grin, he explained, "My specialty is Artefact Accidents. Our department is one of the most chaotic during those celebratory times." He went over to a wardrobe and pulled out two lime green healer robes. Handing her one, he said, "Go ahead and try it out. Get a feel for it."
She pulled it on and he did the same. Checking herself out in the uniform, she asked, "Do I look the part?"
"Lime green suits you," he said. "And trust me, it's not exactly the easiest color to pull off." He led her out of the office and through the corridors, pointing out where everything was and what was going on around them. "The reception and waiting areas are down that way," he said. "You'll learn how to assess incoming patients based on severity of their conditions in your first year."
"That one looks pretty severe," Callie said, indicating a man with a wand sticking out of his eye.
"No," Winslow said, shaking his head. "He's about a three on a scale of one to ten."
"Bloody hell," she replied.
"The Admissions Department is down that way. We've got records dating back about two hundred years. It's always good to check the family histories of new patients, even if there doesn't appear to be any genetic factors involved in the conditions they come in with. Sometimes they like to try and hide things from their provider."
They continued on through the Artefact Accidents department, and Callie asked, "Is Katie Bell here?"
"She was for the first few weeks," Winslow replied. "She's up on the fourth floor now, in the Spell Damage department."
The fourth floor, Callie thought. That's were the Janus Thickey Ward is. Fearing the worst, Callie stammered, "Wait, she's not-? Is- Is she-?" Winslow furrowed his brow as she tried to voice her concerns. "Does she have... ya know... permanent damage?"
"We don't think so," he said. "We believe it's just of matter of waiting for the effects to wear off. And a little prodding, trying to jog her memory."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "But you said she's all right, physically?"
"Yes."
"So, I didn't do any damage with that heart spell?"
"No, you were perfect. Got her started back up as soon as she was brought in. Pulse was strong and steady. You did good, Healer Warbeck," he concluded with a grin.
"'Healer Warbeck,'" she mused. "I like the sound of that."
Their final stop on the ground floor was the Alchemy Room, where healing potions and other curative substances were developed. Callie looked around in awe at the wizards and witches experimenting with various brews and manipulating plants and metals. She felt rather inspired watching them work up new remedies and play around with different ingredients, trying to perfect their elixirs.
"My element," she murmured, feeling at home amongst the simmering cauldrons and the crystals and the jars of animals parts. Even the plants, in the context of their use in the brewing process, made her want to get right to work on her Herbology studies as soon as she got back to the castle. "This is fantastic," she said.
Winslow explained, "You'll spend plenty of time here during training. Everyone rotates through the six core departments - Artefact Accidents, Alchemy, Creature-Induced Injuries, Magical Bugs, Potion and Plant Poisonings, and Spell Damage. The first two years are primarily lecture-based, then the next two are practical training. Then you'll do a research project in the fifth year, before you choose a specialty. Then it's two more years in your chosen field."
"Aye," Callie said in acknowledgement.
Raising a brow to her, he asked, "Sure you're up for it?"
"Absolutely. Got any vacancies in the program? I'll start today."
Chuckling, he replied, "Still need those five N.E.W.T.'s. But now that you mention it, quite a few people do end up dropping out. Not exactly a forgiving career choice. You'll spend more time here than in your own home. Your whole life will revolve around healing."
"Looking forward to it," she said genuinely.
After a moment, he remarked, "You're very sure of yourself. What drew you to the profession?"
She thought about it, and replied, "I can't imagine any better way to spend your life than making sick people well. I want to be the one that creates a new curative potion, or lifts the curse on Katie Bell, or..." she paused, thinking of the patients up on the Janus Thickey Ward "...or restores Frank and Alice Longbottom to how they used to be."
"The Longbottoms?" Winslow said, furrowing his brow. "Do you know them?"
"My boyfriend is their son," she explained.
"The lad from Slughorn's party," he said, remembering. "That was their boy?"
"Mhm, Neville Longbottom."
"I hadn't made the connection. Merlin's beard, it's awful what happened to them." They made their way up through the other departments, finally arriving on the Spell Damage floor. Nodding towards the Janus Thickey Ward, he asked, "Would you like to see them?"
But Callie replied, "No. I met them at Christmas." Indicating the healer robes, she said, "I don't want them to see me like this and get confused." She wasn't sure if they would even remember her, but she didn't want to risk it.
He then led her to a private room and said, "Katie Bell is in there."
"Is she...?"
"Responsive? Yes, but there's a good chance she won't recognize you. She is rather chipper though," he said happily. He knocked on the door before heading in. "Good day, Katie. How are you, love?"
Callie was surprised to see just how well the pretty brunette looked, despite the nearly fatal curse she'd received three months prior.
"Hello, Miles!" she greeted cheerfully, before she scrunched up her face in thought. "Wait, that's not it," she muttered to herself.
"Liam," Winslow corrected.
"Right, yes! Liam." Turning her attention to Callie, she asked, "Are you one of my healers?"
Before Callie could respond, Winslow replied with a grin, "Yes, actually. Healer Warbeck took good care of you a few months back."
Katie rose up off her bed and came to stand before Callie, studying her. "Warbeck, Warbeck..." she said, "I know that name."
"I was one of your healers," Callie reminded, playing along. "We've met before."
"Oh, of course," Katie said, smacking her head. "You'll have to forgive me, my memory's a bit fuzzy these days."
"That's quite all right," Callie replied with a smile.
Katie went back to her bed and reached for a large roll of parchment. "I made you something, Healer Wyman."
"Winslow."
"Sorry." She unrolled the parchment and explained, "I call it 'The Healing Angel.' This here is you, and that's me."
"You made this?" Callie asked, both surprised and impressed. It was a painting of a girl in a hospital bed, looking up in awe at an angel with big rainbow-colored wings who hovered above her. The angel was holding up the St. Mungo's healer insignia, which included a wand and a bone crossed over each other.
"Katie's quite the artist," Winslow explained with a smile.
"I never knew," Callie replied.
Rolling up the parchment and holding it out to the healer, Katie said, "For you. I hope you like it."
"I love it, dear," he said, taking the painting and giving her a kiss on the forehead. "Thank you."
A wide smile spread across Katie's face, and then she went back to a new picture she was creating. "Quite the artist," Winslow repeated, smiling. Nodding to the girl, he said, "Good day, dear," then gestured to Callie that it was time to leave.
But she lingered for a second as the man turned on his heel, keeping her eyes on Katie. "Have a lovely day," she said, a small grin playing at the corner of her mouth, "Comrade."
Katie paused, furrowing her brow as she looked up at Callie. The latter waved goodbye and followed Winslow into the corridor.
Once he'd pulled Katie's door shut, he held out the roll of parchment and asked, "Would you like this?"
Callie furrowed her brow. "She made it for you."
"I know. It's exactly the same as the one she gave me two days ago. And three days before that. I have one in my office, I'll show you."
Callie shot a sad look back toward Katie's room. "Does she ever paint anything else?"
"Oh, yes. It's just that she gets stuck on one idea for a while and forgets that she's done it already. She'll have something new in a week or so."
"Bloody hell," Callie sighed.
They stopped into the visitor's tearoom on the fifth floor, where they relaxed for a while as Winslow questioned Callie about her future plans. "Any idea of where you'd like to specialize?" he asked. "You seemed rather taken with the Alchemy department."
"God, I loved it in there," she agreed, smiling at the memory of what could accurately be described as the 'potions laboratory.' "Can't wait to get in and start experimenting."
"Already thinking with a researcher's mind, that's good. What might you be looking to come up with?"
She hesitated, biting her lip. "Well," she said, "I don't know if it's possible..."
"At some point, none of the treatments we have now were possible," he countered. "The whole purpose of science is discovery. Don't ever assume there are limits."
"All right," she replied. But she was still apprehensive as she explained, "I would like to attempt to create something... that might help Frank and Alice Longbottom."
She waited for him to laugh, or to say they could never be helped. But instead, he nodded and said, "That's a worthy endeavor."
"You think so?" she asked, perking up.
"Of course. Dedicating your time and energy and talents to the cause of giving two people back their lives? What could be more worthwhile?"
She smiled to herself, appreciative of his encouragement. "Could it be done, though?" she asked.
"That's for you to find out," he replied. "And so long as you receive a grade of O or E in the required subjects, I think it's safe to say you'll be guaranteed a place to conduct your research."
Her smile widened. "Guaranteed, eh?" she asked.
"Contingent upon your performance on the N.E.W.T. exams," he reminded.
Oh, she was going to get those five N.E.W.T.s - like a good Slytherin, nothing was going to stop her from achieving her ends. Holding out her hand for a shake, she said, "Well, I look forward to working with you then, Healer Winslow."
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They were greeted by Slughorn when they arrived back in his office a few hours later. "Calista, my healer-in-training! How was the tour?"
"Excellent, sir. I can't thank you enough for introducing me to this fine gentleman." She gave Winslow an appreciative pat on the arm, and the two exchanged a smile. "But as a small token of gratitude," she went on, "I've brought you a treat."
She handed him a box of crystallized pineapple, and he responded with an almost childlike expression of absolute glee. "My very favorite!" he exclaimed. "Thank you, dear." He dove right into the candy and offered her and Winslow a piece. "Mm. Liam, sit a spell, won't you?"
"I ought to be getting back to the hospital, sir."
"Oh, nonsense! I'm sure they'll get along without you for an hour. Come, have a brandy." Reluctantly, Winslow followed Slughorn to the sitting area, while Callie removed the healer's robes to give to him.
"No, you keep them," he said, holding up a hand. "You are going to need them in two years' time."
"My own healer's robes," she mused, gazing down at the uniform. "I'm never taking them off, I'm going to sleep in them."
"Try it," Winslow said. "Some say the best ideas come to us in dreams. Perhaps they'll provide some inspiration for that restoration draught."
"What restoration draught?" Slughorn asked, curious.
"Well, sir," Callie replied, "I'm going to develop a cure for torture-induced insanity."
"I beg your pardon?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
She and Winslow told him all about her ideas for reversing the effects that the Torture Curse had left on the Longbottoms. Like the healer, Slughorn seemed more encouraging than skeptical, which Callie was grateful for. She joined the two men and accepted a small glass of brandy as they discussed her future endeavors and Winslow's past achievements. The potions master seemed quite proud of both his current and former student. Even though he'd only been teaching Callie for four months, he seemed to take pride in having "discovered" her.
"Though I suppose I can't take all the credit," he conceded. "I had my doubts about Severus when he took over my position as Slytherin's head of house, but it's good to know he's managed to bring up such a promising student."
"Oh, sir," Callie replied, "I think Professor Snape would take offense to the suggestion that he's responsible for the way I turned out." Back-talking, arrogant... 'provocative.'
"Nonsense!" Slughorn exclaimed. "Where is the old curmudgeon? Let's get him in here. Beetroot!" He snapped his fingers and a house-elf appeared out of thin air. "Fetch Professor Severus Snape, would you?"
The elf disappeared, and a short while later, a knock on the door sounded and Snape entered. "You sent for me, Horace?"
"Come, join us!" Slughorn invited.
The Defense teacher looked from his colleague, to Winslow, to Callie, hovering in the doorway as though he were itching to get the hell out of there.
"Don't be a fool, man, sit down!" Slughorn urged.
Very reluctantly, he joined them, taking a seat across from Callie. Their host poured him a brandy as he said, "We were just talking about your star student."
"Who would that be?" Snape asked.
"Calista, of course! Why, she's right over there."
"I see her, sir," he replied, already looking ill-tempered.
"'Star student,'" Callie repeated. "I think you might be overestimating me just a bit, sir. As I'm sure Professor Snape will tell you-" she shot the man a glance "-I'm really not all that outstanding."
"Oho, is that right?" Slughorn said. "Severus here was the one who brought you to my attention. Oh, how dismayed I was at the roster of students within my own house - half of them children of You Know Who's men. So very disappointing." He shook his head at the thought. "But I was happy to learn there was at least one pupil who had no such connections, and also happened to be quite gifted in my own subject. Passed your O.W.L. with flying colors, I heard?"
"Yes, sir," Callie replied.
"And then the proficiency with which you performed that Cardiostasis Charm!"
Sheepishly, she explained, "Professor Snape told me how to do it. I'm not sure how much credit I can take for that one."
But Winslow chimed in, "It isn't just a matter of saying the words and aiming your wand. It takes the right mindset and motivation. Power. Not everyone is capable of healing magic. You have it in you."
"Really?" she asked, shooting her head of house a glance. Is that why he had me do it? Because he couldn't? But Pomfrey had been there too; he could've asked her.
Slughorn reached over to grab a box off the end table. "Would anyone care for a Honduran?" he asked, pulling a cigar from the box and offering the rest. Winslow took one, then Snape reluctantly followed, and Slughorn lit his up before passing the lighter around.
"I don't get one, sir?" Callie said.
They all turned their attention to her, and Slughorn asked in surprise and amusement, "You smoke cigars?"
"My father enjoyed a good Honduran on occasion," she explained. "Every once in a while I light one up. The smell brings back good memories."
With an amused look on his face, he offered her the box. She took one and Winslow held the lighter out for her. Taking a puff, she leaned back and closed her eyes, smiling to herself. "Dad," she muttered. After savoring the scent for a moment, she opened her eyes and said, "Thank you, Professor."
"Such a fascinating lass," Slughorn remarked, studying her. Then, turning to Snape, "She's going to cure insanity, Severus. Did you know?"
"I beg your pardon?" he said, cocking a brow.
Looking over at Callie, the older man said, "Go on, tell him."
She hesitated. If anybody were to scoff at her ambition to restore the Longbottoms' mental health, it would be him. "Well..." she began apprehensively "...eventually... I'd like to try to create a restorative draught for... people who've suffered psychological damage." She met Snape's eye, filling her head with images of Frank and Alice in the Janus Thickey Ward.
Echoing Slughorn, he replied, "Fascinating."
She couldn't tell if that was sarcasm or not, but was surprised that he hadn't made some disparaging comment or another. As though she were daring him to insult her ambition, she went on, "I'd also like to try my hand at spell-development. Specifically, a counter-spell for the Cruciatus Curse."
All three men looked at her, and from their expressions, this goal wasn't quite as attainable as the restoration draught. Winslow was the one to ask, "How?"
"I don't know, sir," she admitted. "For the time being it's-" she shrugged "-just an idea that's been brewing in my head. I imagine I would have to spend a lot of time studying the curse in order to figure out how to counteract it."
"Yes, but how would you even study the Cruciatus?" he asked.
Again, she hesitated, but explained, "With approval from the Ministry - of course - I would have to have it demonstrated so I could examine its effects."
"They would never give permission to perform the Cruciatus Curse for research purposes," Snape countered.
"In any event," Slughorn cut in, "who in their right mind would volunteer to be the test subject?"
"Oh, that's easy," Callie said, "I would be the subject."
Winslow and Slughorn froze, gaping at her. Snape simply looked away, rolling his eyes. "You must be absolutely mad!" Slughorn exclaimed.
"That's what they say, sir," Callie replied.
"It's not possible," Snape said, shaking his head. "Perhaps you could endure it - for a very short while. But nobody could think through the Cruciatus." He paused, before continuing, "You know this. You've seen for yourself what such torture can do to the human mind."
She met his gaze with a challenging look in her eye. "Don't tell me I can't do something, sir. That only spurs me on."
"No limits, eh?" Winslow said, smirking.
"Exactly." She returned his grin and shot him a wink.
"Don't underestimate the girl, Severus," Slughorn warned. "She's tenacious. Very strong-willed, she is."
"Yes, I know," he agreed. But from the way he had said it, he seemed to consider that a fault rather than a virtue.
"If anyone could power through the Torture Curse, it would be this lass," the potions master went on. To Callie, he said, "You must have a bit of madness in you, to even suggest such a thing. Torturing yourself in the name of research?"
"Rather masochistic of you," Winslow smirked.
"I can handle a few good Cruciatus Curses," she said, turning her gaze on Snape.
He studied her a moment, then suddenly remarked, "Your eyes are different."
Winslow leaned over to get a better look. "Have they... always been violet?" he asked.
"It's a charm. Nymphadora Tonks did it this morning," she explained. "Just experimenting."
"Oh, is that what she does when she ought to be patrolling the corridors?" Snape asked scornfully.
You arse, Callie thought, glaring at him. "I was coming out of the loo, she was going in," she said. "It only took a second."
"Interesting choice, violet," Winslow remarked. "Sort of makes you look like Elizabeth Taylor."
Cocking a brow at him, she said, "I look like Elizabeth Taylor?"
"Who is Elizabeth Taylor?" Slughorn asked.
"She's a muggle film actress," Winslow explained. "Very popular in the '50s and '60s." He paused before adding, with his eyes still on Callie, "Very lovely face."
The two exchanged a flirtatious grin, and Snape crushed out his cigar before rising up. "As I recall," he said, making his way towards the door, "the woman's been divorced seven times. Couldn't have been that lovely."