Florence Pomfrey was one of the newest Healers on the ward. She'd been a junior Healer on Spell Damage for a mere 6 weeks when that American Auror showed up, levitating her delirious boss and explaining the situation with a heavy air of outward calm. Florence was one of the first on the scene, with her hair pinned by neatly behind a white cap and her apron freshly Scourgified. She'd promptly transported Head Auror Scamander to a private ward and called for her superiors to help treat the Spell Damage.

It had taken two hours, seventy-two enchantments and eighteen potions to stabilise Scamander's condition. Unfortunately, he was still in for a rough night and a long recovery. They hadn't even been able to give him Dreamless Sleep Potion because it would interact with the Memory Preservation Potion.

Being the most junior on the team, Florence had been assigned overnight care duties.

Her first task was dealing with the crowd of visitors gathered at Scamander's bedside.

'I'm sorry, but you can't stay overnight without express permission from the Matron,' Florence tried to explain.

The awkward-looking fellow in a blue suit – the brother, she was told, apparently a successful Magizoologist – didn't even glance at her. His companion, beside him, spared her a helpless expression, then went back to fiddling with the edge of Scamander's blanket.

Florence was somewhat afraid of the girl sitting on the other side of the bed. Leta Lestrange, fiancée. She'd grown up hearing stories about the Lestrange family, and none of them good. Florence almost backed away when Leta glared at her, but soon the girl's expression turned from fierceness to sadness and Florence's heart softened.

'I can't leave,' Leta said, her voice barely more than a whisper. 'Please, can't you give him something to stop the nightmares?'

Miss Lestrange was begging.

'I'm sorry,' Florence repeated, feeling utterly helpless. 'Dreamless Sleep would interfere-'

'- interfere with Memory Preservation,' the brother finished for her, finally looking up. 'She's right, Leta. There's nothing more we can do but wait.'

Leta seemed to accept this and went back to drawing circles on her fiancé's palm. Her touch was surprisingly delicate, give the incessant movement of the bed as a result of the patient's restless sleep.

None of them seemed in any hurry to leave.

Just as Florence drew breath to renew her argument, two newcomers chose this time to enter. One of them she recognised as the American Auror who'd brought the patient in. She looked completely spent, as if she was eking out her last reserves of energy. Her companion must have been her sister – despite the differences in hair colour and fashion sense, they had the same kindness behind their tired eyes.

'Oh, you're the Healer. I'm Queenie,' said the Auror's sister. She paused for a moment, then turned to everyone else. 'She needs us to leave, everyone. Come, let's go home. There's nothing more we can do for him now.'

The man sitting next to the brother stood up and seemed to slip into a familiar place by Queenie's side. No one else moved.

Florence drew breath again to talk, but Queenie beat her to it. 'Don't be silly, Newt, he'd want you to get some rest. Come, you can help me take Tina home.'

This seemed to get a response out of Newt, who squeezed his brother's hand one last time, picked up his brown leather case and stood up.

'Not you too, Tina,' Queenie admonished her sister. 'We've just had this conversation. No one blames you, least of all Theseus. You ain't gonna be any good to the Auror department if you don't get some rest now.'

Queenie turned to Leta. Florence knew – and she suspected Queenie did as well – that no amount of persuasion was going to move Leta from her seat.

'You coming, Leta?' Queenie asked.

Leta shook her head.

Queenie sighed but knew defeat when she saw it. 'Send word if there's any change, will you?'

'Of course,' Leta whispered.

The four of them departed, leaving Florence in the room with Leta and her unconscious fiancé. Leta was still drawing circles on his palm.

'I'll just be across the hall if you need me, Miss Lestrange,' Florence said, and took her leave from the room.

Florence checked on them several times throughout the night. Leta, impressively, stayed awake until the early hours of the morning.

When Newt and Tina returned the next day, they found Leta asleep in her chair, leaning forward with her head resting on her arms folded on the edge of the bed. The fitful movement of the bed had ceased, and its occupant was awake, smiling weakly as he stroked his fiancée's hair.