The Hospital Wing
A large owl slid noiseless through the dawning darkness of the early morning. The utterly quiet flight changed into a ruckus. A strong beak hammered against closed windows. Leonor woke like showered with a bucket of ice water. Pauline screamed piercingly. The urgency of the call killed Leonor's last hour of sleep. She dressed in seconds, snatched the first aid bag and apparated with a hectic plop at the school's gates ignoring the fully lit windows of the neighbours and the ranting and raving from some bedrooms around. Running uphill made her quickly breathless. She closed the eyes cursing herself for being out of condition and regained composure walking down the wooden stairs into the body of the ship. She pushed a way through the watching boys.
"What's the matter?" she asked without preamble, shoving the teenagers aside. One of the Durmstrang students lay motionless in a bunk bed. His face was hot and glowing with ugly bluish red blotches. The rest of the twitching body was covered in sweat.
"Mika woke us. He moaned and then collapsed," explained one of the terrified students.
"How was he yesterday?" questioned Leonor while examining Mika and heaving the body to a sitting position. The lower abdomen was hard and swollen, the heart was pounding fiercely in complete disorder. She conjured a little stone and put it unceremoniously into the boy's mouth. But he didn't swallow it. Leonor used a reviving spell and a glass of water to make the boy swallow the bezoar. He quickly fell back writhing in pain; passing out was an unsatisfying relief in that situation.
"Mika was crestfallen, but we thought it was because of the funeral."
"Funeral?"
"Professor Karkaroff returned with Mika over the weekend. An aunt died unexpectedly over Christmas. Mika was home."
"What did he eat after his return?"
"Not much." The students shrugged, likely nobody paid attention to it.
"When did he return?"
"The evening before yesterday."
"Where has he been?" asked Leonor and levitated the unconscious boy to a stretcher.
"At home," said a student bewildered.
"And where is home?"
Karkaroff's acrid comment sliced the horror-stricken slumber party. "He was well when I returned with him. Have you or your friend made him work with dangerous potions in one of the lessons?"
"It's Monday morning. Mika was not in class last week. I'm interested in what the boy ate or drank. The bezoar wins time of course," answered Leonor coolly. Leonor instructed Pauline with the request to inform Madam Pomfrey and the owl flew up the wooden stairs and out into the night.
"A village up in the north."
"But was there anything strange? Did you eat with the family?" Karkaroff negated and spat, "There's something wrong with the food at Hogwarts!"
Leonor frowned without taking Igor's accusation serious and said, "I'll bring Mika to the hospital wing and you do me a favour to let his classmates check the belongings for any food from home. Bring it to me as soon as you find something."
Leonor left, and the boys nodded starting to search the stowed away luggage. The hawthorn wand balanced the stretcher carefully along the way to the castle. Leonor was deep in thoughts. She was sure the boy was poisoned but had no clue about the venom causing the symptoms when opening the large door to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey prepared a bed and gestured to lay the boy down with a concerned look.
"Merlin's beard, the blotches!" Poppy arranged the pillows and looked questioningly at Leonor.
"He ate something toxic. His heart rhythm is in disorder. He returned from an aunt's funeral on Saturday," said Leonor thoughtfully dribbling some drops of a heart stabilizing medicine into the boy's mouth and felt the pulse.
"Are you sure? He could have been upset by the situation or suffer a severe cardiac failure instead. The school cannot deal with the kind of life-threatening diseases!"
"I'm pretty sure his heart is fine in general. I examined him before Christmas. Mika just had a common cold back in December." Leonor stroked some strands out of the boy's hot forehead. "We have to wait; likely his classmates find what we need to know."
"Are you sure it's the right remedy?" Madam Pomfrey eyed the younger healer suspiciously and sniffed at the flask with the healing draught, the expression doubtful about the diagnosis.
"The drops help in either way, at least temporarily. It would be safer to know the origin." Leonor felt herself a bit sick, mainly from the queasy feeling about overlooking something. She appreciated the matrons questioning, yet her contribution was rather weak, or there was indeed nothing the healers could do right now. Madam Pomfrey put the medicine flask on the nightstand sulkily, but without commenting on its contents.
After a while, the matron busied herself with regular tasks in the ward and returned now and then to count Mika's pulse herself. Time ticked away, and the steady counting of the heartbeats finessed a certain helplessness. Life started slowly in the castle, footsteps and voices echoed along the corridors until the lessons silenced everything again. The waiting was more tolerable with the pulsating live in the corridors than with the quietness. A few other students in the ward had a wish, but Madam Pomfrey behaved like a vulture behind carrion. Leonor couldn't even give some water to a girl with a sour throat; Poppy snatched the glass out of her hands and shooed her away.
Professor Karkaroff entered through the large door soon after breakfast, a tin with biscuits in his hand, his face ashen and the eyes absentminded. He didn't hasten and handed the tin lazily to Leonor with a sneer; the usual snide look he reserved for her since she went with Severus to the ball. Leonor did not mind; Igor kept his distance in the first week of term, and she returned to the routine visits of the students in the sailing ship without being troubled in any other way. She was convinced Karkaroff was busy with arrangements of his flight. It gave him headaches and the kindness to pick up the boy had surely private reasons.
Madam Pomfrey interpreted the tired expression as a concern and answered quickly, "The boy stabilizes slowly."
Leonor looked up into the wrinkled face of Madam Pomfrey; she was not sure yet if the temporary success provided also a real solution. Anyway, it wasn't wrong to reassure the headmaster and the most substances could indeed be fixed with the remedy, at least the common venoms.
"Igor, where does Mika live? It may give us a hint," asked Leonor urgently.
"Finland, a lonely village outside Helsinki surrounded by endless woods," answered Karkaroff defiantly and reluctant to tell more. Igor excused himself with inflated self-importance. "Scott, I expect your report at lunch in the Great Hall!"
Leonor shook her head. "I'll check the biscuits, but he cannot have eaten much of it. The tin is still full to the brim. Can I use your office?" Leonor addressed Madam Pomfrey and the matron agreed grudgingly but led the way into a separated compartment of the ward.
Leonor sliced the biscuits carefully with the Swiss Army Knife. The cookies crumbled under the sharp blade revealing nothing. The knife glinted still in the polished silver steel. Drops of different potions to detect common toxins didn't return a result either. "The biscuits are fine. I'll send an owl to Finland, maybe we can warn somebody or receive some answer in a couple of days. I hope Mika will wake up before and tells us something."
"Maybe we should consult St. Mungo's?" asked Madam Pomfrey brusquely. "I don't believe in the nonsense with the knife."
"Well, the other detection methods didn't give a result either. St. Mungo's won't be able to do more," answered Leonor deliberately calm on her way out to the owlery. "—but if you have another suggestion? We could do an examination with a stomach tube to find out something about the latest meal. But likely we give the boy only a sour throat without finding anything. If his last meal was before eight hours, then the venom will be absorbed completely. The swelling in the lower abdomen points to it."
"Muggle methods— a more experienced healer might find something—," grumbled the matron.
It made Leonor turn briskly, the handle of the door already pushed to exit. Leonor blushed slightly before speaking. She couldn't contain the words this time. The hostile atmosphere in the ward was unnerving. Poppy rejected every help with other patients or anything else as if Leonor was above the simple tasks. She had not given much thought to it last year, but today she felt it unfair to be criticized this way. The motionless teenager in the hospital bed preyed on her mind; it was more difficult to watch a seriously ill child than any other patient. Leonor regretted using the ward instead of her own surgery. Dumbledore might have agreed to treat the boy there for a good reason, yet Leonor's trouble with Pomfrey was just childish.
"There are a lot of substances causing the symptoms; a very common one is alcohol. The medicine seems to do what it should do. The boy should wake up until midnight, otherwise I contact St. Mungo's. But what makes you think I'm not experienced enough?"
"You are too young and only itching to get a job at Hogwarts. St. Mungo's didn't employ you either! They surely had a reason!" Madam Pomfrey was agitated and some red spots appeared on the skin of her cheeks.
"I have a job, a good one too. I'll be gone if the tournament is over. It was never my intention to get your job," snapped Leonor and walked out into the corridor. Leonor was suddenly angry, she never intended to steal something away from the older healer and was unaware that she ever gave the impression. It would be far too boring to be stuck in the school's ward; a real hospital or the surgery offered a greater variety of work. She'd rather prefer to be a teacher, so Severus' or Moody's job would be far more interesting, except that one of the posts was cursed. She almost bumped into a girl running miffed around a corner. A book clashed to the floor.
"I'm sorry—," said the girl quickly.
"My fault, I didn't pay attention," snarled Leonor and levitated the book back into the girl's arms to continue the way to the owlery.
"Professor!" called Hermione and Leonor turned. There was a concerned look on the girl's face and Leonor realized only now, who it was.
"What is it, Hermione?" Leonor frowned slightly; she didn't want to be questioned about the next lesson nor lose time.
"Something happened at Durmstrang. Is Victor fine?" Hermione stepped nervously from one foot to the other.
Meeting Hermione seemed not completely accidental anymore. Leonor smiled and answered softly, "No, it's not Victor. No need to worry anyway. And you should quickly go to your lesson."
"Thanks," said Hermione and disappeared down the marble staircases. It was good to see that at least some Durmstrang students got along with Gryffindor. Their regular meals with the Slytherin's were a real issue.
XXX
The wind played around the owlery. All corridors were cold and draughty, but up here it was even worse. The Siberian eagle owl flew down to Leonor's shoulder while she scribbled a letter on a parchment. The soft feathers of the large bird warmed at least one cheek. Writing on the cold stones wasn't easy and it looked unsteady and unprofessional. Leonor could return to her quarters and write it again but the usage of some correction and copy spells were faster. It would do; the content was readable. The scroll was fixed at the owl's leg and Leonor gave the instructions of the destination. The white speckled feathers would be a good cover in Finland's snow, and the bird was large enough to manage the distance. Leonor was glad the owl returned healthy from Romania, but Finland would be more challenging. The owl had to cross the sea.
"I've still not asked Severus if you are his owl," said Leonor patting the birds back. The owl only tilted her head observingly. "Be safe!" The owl flew away into the chilly winter morning and Leonor returned to the ward asking for the last time if she could make herself useful. Madame Pomfrey agreed crossly to accept Leonor's help with putting clean bedding to some unused beds. They lunched together and watched how Mika drifted into a quiet sleep on the late afternoon.
Leonor hesitated to explain herself and Madam Pomfrey didn't ask. Some students came for a visit. The headmasters made sure about the improvements, but even Dumbledore had no idea about any dangers in a Finnish village. The care about the boy mitigated the row between the women, and they smiled at each other when the patient finally opened his eyes. Leonor hoped it was for good.
"Mika, how are you?" asked Leonor quietly.
"Where am I?"
"Hospital wing, but you will be alright. You've been here since early morning, apparently poisoned by food. What did you eat or drink?"
"Not much," answered the boy weakly while Leonor did a general examination.
"Really, nothing?"
"Just some little garlic meatballs of my aunt. I had nothing for dinner and couldn't sleep."
"You brought them from home?" Mika nodded in response. "Anything strange with them?"
"No, the meatballs just didn't taste much like garlic this time."
"Any leftovers?" Mika negated.
"Right, are you hungry now?"
"A bit," answered Mika and gave a weak smile.
Leonor flicked her wand and Hattie appeared with sandwiches. The elf seemed to always know the necessary; Leonor was once more surprised how information and unspoken wishes travelled the school. She grinned to Hattie who showered the boy with questions if he would like something else. Leonor scribbled meanwhile a note and copied the same into two more exact copies. All students were already back in their dormitories at the late hour, but the good news had to go out immediately.
"Pauline, you stay with Durmstrang, right? Give the messages to Dumbledore, Igor and Victor," smiled Leonor and the owl hooted in confirmation.
"Can I go now?" asked Mika after finishing most of the dinner.
"You should sleep here and if you feel good you can leave tomorrow morning. Good night," said Leonor before she closed the curtains around the bed and left with the matron and Hattie.
"You want me to stay here tonight?" asked Leonor carefully.
"No, not at all," answered Madam Pomfrey hastily.
"Fine; I'll be for a short while in the dungeons and then return to the seventh floor, just in case—"
"Yes, yes, it will be fine. I'll use the floo network if needed." Poppy didn't even allow herself a frown at the mention of the dungeons.
"Thank you! Good night!" said Leonor finally with an exhausted smile. Waiting strained as much as working hard. Mika was well; it was everything that counted.
Hattie followed Leonor patiently down to the large oak gate.
"Hattie, are you allowed to leave the castle?"
"If mistress wishes me to do so," the elf bowed deep.
"Could you get to my house in Hogsmeade and bring me the old battered book from the table on the upper floor? I'll have some dinner in the kitchen in the meantime?"
Hattie curtseyed and disappeared with a plop.
XXX
Leonor walked down into the kitchen. She tickled the painted pear in the bowl of fruits and was accepted by the hidden door with a funny little giggle. The elves curtseyed and bowed friendly, slightly nervous by the unusual visitor. Leonor saw all sorts of unspoken questions in the curious orb-like eyes.
"Good evening! Can I eat here until Hattie returns? She does me a favour and will soon be back."
Leonor tried to sound fresh, but it didn't work well. The elves shoved her quickly into a bench. The loving little creatures showered her like Mika with questions about favourite food. Leonor chose a soup with bread and some fruits. It was embarrassing to spill the hot liquid a couple of times across her robes, but she had no idea of any small talk. The watching eyes felt awkward and Leonor was finally glad when Hattie returned. It gave a reason to speak.
"Thanks, Hattie. Have you had any problems to get into my house?" said Leonor taking the book from the elf.
"No! Mistress has a very nice house," cheeped the elf happily.
"Did you like it?"
"Hattie never saw a wizarding home before. It's cosy," spluttered Hattie eagerly.
"Yes, it's nice," smiled Leonor, but the pleasure and a bright smile on Hattie's face vanished, and she started kneading the clean tea towel around her waist.
"Hattie shouldn't have seen something. Hattie will punish herself, but Mistress needs to know." The elf shivered and stared at the floor.
"I'm glad if you warn me, Hattie. Just tell me— no punishment please."
"The book fell down. There's Master Snape's name in it."
"Yes, a birthday present," answered Leonor chewing on an apple.
"Master is very bad-tempered. It's not good talking to him today. Two first-years cried in the dormitories after potions this morning. He was not even patient with the Slytherins."
"Am I looking like a timid first year?" answered Leonor a bit cheeky.
"No, of course not. Master is always friendlier to Mistress, but it's his birthday. Hattie never mentions anything on this day fearing to be thrown out," snivelled Hattie with a still alert side-glance.
"It's stupid to give a present on the day after the birthday. I should see him. Thanks for the warning and don't punish yourself. I'm careful." Leonor managed a small smile, nodded thanks and exited with a friendly 'good night' to the attentive audience.
Leonor wondered if the faculty celebrated anniversaries in the staff room. Severus had been invisible today. She hadn't noticed anything being confined to the hospital wing. She was looking forward to giving the present to Severus, but she was also due for another Occlumency lesson. The thought of the lesson last week was rather unpleasant and going through it with an ill-tempered Severus didn't encourage at all after a long day full of worry and waiting. Leonor felt nervous, dark and cold and crossed the arms around the book and her body. The torches lit the passageway into the dungeons a little less than usual. Leonor knocked, and an unpleasant invitation signalled that Hattie had a point.
"You are late," snarled Severus without looking up from stirring several cauldrons. The steaming liquids distracted Leonor for a moment until she noticed Argus Filch in the armchair next to the bookshelf. He had seen her already and hit himself cheerfully on the thighs.
"It's my happy day today! It's going to be a real party. You didn't tell me that you wait for that beautiful woman. I like another refill."
The morose caretaker leered and beamed gleefully. A full untouched whiskey cup stood on Severus' workbench. The bottle and a half-eaten chocolate cake were within reach of Filch's hands pressing down a stack of newspapers on a side table. Filch spooned more cake into his nearly toothless mouth. He shook the empty whiskey cup to encourage Leonor to do him the favour.
Leonor didn't react and watched to get a clue of the obscure situation. She put the book carefully to Severus's desk and threw wood to the dying flames in the fireplace. Filch finally helped himself and whispered, "Girl, come here!"
Leonor hesitated to obey, but the glee had changed into a helpless thoughtful expression. Leonor felt suddenly compassion for the pathetic old man. Living wandless in a house of naughty little beggars frustrated.
"What can I do for you?" asked Leonor deliberately gruff.
Filch's long crooked finger pointed to Severus. "He doesn't want me to have my medicine, but will you be helpful?" The whisper was soft-soaping, and Leonor regretted the mercy already.
"Professor Snape might have a reason—" Leonor dodged the question.
"Dunno, nasty temper!" answered Filch. "You need to look after my aching shoulder or make him to give me the sleeping draught." Filch tilted his head, the leering look returned, and he quickly freed one arm from the patched jacket. Leonor thought of moral blackmail, but if Filch intended a personal treatment then he should have one. Her hands and thumbs seized Filch's hunched back deftly. The sour smell of unclean cloth crept into her nose. Pressure on the right spots made the old man whining in revenge for the looks. Finally, she opened the first aid bag.
"Take that for the shoulder and let me know if it helps. Rub five drops into your shoulder, twice a day!" answered Leonor in earnest and the gleeful grin returned to the shrivelled face, but it didn't last long. Severus pressed another flask in Filch's hands and barked, "Get out! Now!"
Filch seemed unimpressed by the outbreak, tucked the flasks safely away into the robes and snatched cake and bottle. Instead of a goodbye, he cooed gloatingly. "You are messed up!" The ugly hands pointed at Leonor's cloak and the soup stains. Severus shot an angry 'wash yourself' after him but Filch left the office evidently satisfied. Severus closed the door quietly and returned to stir the potions once more.
"What was that?" asked Leonor bewildered casting a cleaning spell to the robes.
"He got what he wanted! You should have come earlier!"
Leonor frowned on the slightly accusing answer but walked over to the workbench. Severus' worked in concentration, finishing several potions at once with the last shot of ingredients. She hexed her wand to stir the Skele-Grow; it looked almost ready and needed the final uninterrupted stir. She hated to cook it; either it burned or clotted. It could be a pleasurable evening to skip Occlumency, but instead, it seemed to end with boiling bone-growing-potions next to a laconic sorehead. She was curious why Filch of all persons visited Severus and why all the potions for the hospital needed brewing today. While watching the pale boiling potion she soon dreamed of some wine and relaxed talk in front of a fireplace. She pictured continuing the conversation of the New Year stroll or elaborating on the Crutiatus Curse remedy. After mere minutes, Leonor's thoughts swirled around the events of the day while her wand worked through the viscid paste.