Chapter Three: Diagnosis

Author note: In a review for the previous chapter, nebroadwe pointed out that Giles acted a bit out of character to blindly open up a package from a mysterious owl with an equally cryptic note. After all, Giles does have an established history of being both paranoid and security conscious. Also, he's an Auror, which means he should know that mail isn't always safe (just as Hermione discovered, to her detriment, in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire).

It was a very good catch and definitely a factor for me to keep in mind moving forward. I've added a bit to the prior chapter in an attempt to explain why Giles was so cavalier about his safety. If anyone is interested, they can go peek at that, but it really doesn't change the story in any way. Just a bit more detail.

Thank you again to nebroadwe for bringing that to my attention.

The man standing in line was a bit awkward in his brown robes, but the robes were the best way to go unnoticed and unharassed, so, aside from a few fidgets, the brunet stood calmly. When he reached the front of the line, he pulled out a paper and stepped up to the Welcome Witch.

"Welcome to St. Mungo's, how may I direct you?" the woman behind the counter inquired in a rather monotone voice.

"Hi, I'm, ah, looking for a Healer Susan Travis?"

The blonde witch blinked, clearly caught off guard to have a guest looking for a specific Healer rather than a specific floor or ward. It took a moment for her to rally, then she asked, "What was the name again, sir?"

"Susan Travis," the brunet replied, shifting nervously.

But the Welcome Witch smiled broadly. "Oh, Susan! Fourth floor, sir; Susan works mostly with Aurors, so she's primarily on the Spell Damage floor."

"Thanks," Wordy told the witch before he headed for the stairs. Sarge had said he'd gotten the name from Brooke Taylor, but hadn't had any more details about the Healer. But if this Susan Travis worked mostly with Aurors, then maybe she could do a full medical for him. The constable jogged up the stairs; after the ten flight climb of the day before, this was nothing. Even so, Wordy kept his eyes open and constantly scanned for any trouble.

Once he reached the fourth floor, he stepped in and looked around curiously. Unlike a tech-side hospital, there was no reception desk, but Wordy soon spied a Healer making his rounds. The constable walked over to the wizard and waited while the man scribbled a few notes on a sheet of parchment.

Without looking up, the wizard asked, "Can I help you, sir?"

"I'm looking for Healer Susan Travis," Wordy explained, his nerves mounting.

The wizard finished his note and glanced up, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Three rooms down, long blonde hair, bad attitude, can't miss her." With that, the wizard went back to his notes.

Bemused by the description, Wordy headed the requisite three rooms down and peeked in the open door. A young witch was inside, writing something on a small, prescription-sized piece of parchment. "Take this to your local apothecary; you can either brew it at home or pay them five Sickles to brew it for you. Take one cup of potion once a day for the next two weeks; one cauldron of potion per week. Mind you, only one cup at a time or you'll be dealing with an upset stomach. No Stomach-Smoother unless you want to be on this potion for the next month, understand?"

The business-like witch eyed her patient, who looked rather unhappy with her instructions. "No Stomach-Smoother?" the wizard protested.

"None," the Healer confirmed, her expression stern. "Too much Stomach-Smoother is how you got into this in the first place; you should've come right in as soon as you realized the problem wasn't going away." She finished writing, signed the sheet with a flourish, and then handed it to the wizard. "Come and see me once you've finished the potion regimen."

The chastised wizard slunk out of the room, past the man in the doorway. The Healer looked her next guest over, one brow arching. "Well, don't just stand there," she snapped, turning away. "Come in and take a seat."

Wordy bit back a chuckle as he obeyed, snagging the chair the wizard had been using. He leaned back in the seat as the witch shuffled through several files and tucked her notes from the prior patient away.

"Now," the witch remarked, swiveling to face Wordy. "What seems to be the problem today, sir?"

"You're Healer Susan Travis, right?" Wordy asked.

"I am," the witch confirmed. "I take it you were specifically looking to see me today?"

"Yes," Wordy acknowledged.

The blonde considered her prospective patient. "Why me?"

The brunet leaned forward. "I need a full medical examination, one that can go in a 'Muggle' personal file."

For a few seconds, Healer Travis looked a bit taken aback. "I think I'll need a few more details, sir." She pulled out a fresh sheaf of parchment. "Starting with your name, please."

"Oh, sorry," Wordy apologized. "Kevin Wordsworth." He waited for her to write his name, then cautiously added, "I'm part of a team that works both in the wizarding world and the 'Muggle' world; I've got a personal file on both sides and my last non-magical medical is three years old."

"We'll get there, sir," Healer Travis reassured the constable. She patiently quizzed Wordy on his medical history, employment history, and a few other things that Wordy was puzzled about, but gamely answered. When she was done asking questions, she wrote for several seconds before facing her patient. "I can do a full medical examination on you, here, Auror Wordsworth, but, as you've probably guessed, it could only be filed in your Auror personal file, not your Muggle personal file."

"Okay." Wordy considered thoughtfully, trying to figure out a way to get the magic-side medical in his tech-side file.

"However." Wordy's head snapped up and Healer Travis smiled. "I can get you an appointment to see my brother; he's a Muggle doctor who works for my family's medical practice. And naturally, since he already knows about magic, he can catch anything that shouldn't go in your Muggle file. How does that sound?"

Wordy's grin split his face. "That sounds perfect."

Healer Travis gave him a slight smile of her own. "Well, then," she pointed to an exam bed. "If you could lie down on there, I'll get started."

The constable moved to the exam bed, stretching out and getting as comfortable as he could. He watched with unabashed curiosity as Healer Travis pulled out more parchment and set up a quill and inkwell. When the setup was done, the Healer's wand dropped into her hand and she flicked it in Wordy's direction. He automatically tensed, but the wand immediately turned away and pointed to the quill. Travis' light brown eyes twinkled with amusement at Wordy's reflexive tense, but she said nothing.

When Wordy had first seen a full medical examination, he'd been happily in the role of observer rather than patient. Now, as the patient, he could vaguely feel the magic brushing against his skin and looking for any and all medical problems; it was rather unnerving, truth be told. He shivered a bit, but held still as the magic continued to work. When it finally faded, he was quietly relieved and shifted to relax his tense muscles.

"You can sit up," Healer Travis remarked. "I'm done with the examination."

Without hesitation, Wordy pushed himself upright and turned on the bed to let his legs dangle off the side. One brow arched as he took in the fact that there were a total of eight scrolls lined up on the exam room's countertop – and another in Travis' hands. "Um, is that a lot?"

The Healer looked up from the first scroll and followed Wordy's gaze. Her shoulder hiked in a shrug. "I've seen more," was her only comment before she dove back into her reading. Wordy took the hint and shut up as she browsed through the scrolls, murmuring under her breath as she worked, making notes on her initial sheaf of parchment.

When Travis was done, she unrolled all the scrolls again and tucked them together, careful to keep them organized. "I'm done with your Auror medical, Auror Wordsworth. Can you do the appointment with my brother now?"

"Yes, ma'am," Wordy confirmed.

He received a thin-lipped smile. "Good." Travis's wand jabbed at the door, which closed and Wordy saw a sign drop into place through the door's window. Another jab drew a pinch of Floo powder out of a bowl above the exam room's fireplace. "We're heading for the Travis Medical Practice."

"Copy that." Wordy drew in a breath as the fire turned green. Then he stepped in and called, "Travis Medical Practice."

Naturally, he went sprawling as he tumbled out of the fireplace. Lance and Alanna had done their best to give him tips on how to Floo without falling, but so far, he just wasn't getting the hang of it. Wordy picked himself up as the fire flared again and Healer Travis stepped out, her sheaf of parchment in hand.

"Follow me, Auror Wordsworth," the brisk, no-nonsense Healer ordered, sweeping past Wordy with nary a backward glance.

Travis led him through a short hallway and into a medium sized office area, complete with reception desk and a small waiting area for the patients. The blonde strode right up to the desk and snapped at the receptionist, "Knight to E3."

"Rook to H3," the receptionist countered, looking up from his computer. "Hiya, sis, how ya been?"

"Agatha out again?" Travis inquired, leaning against the counter.

"Yep, she picked up a nasty bug from one of the kiddies last week," the young man with short dark-blond hair confirmed, giving his sister a quick, wry grin. Though his hair was closely cropped on the sides, the top was springy and parted on the left side. Intelligent blue eyes regarded Wordy with curiosity and interest. "Got a new patient for me?"

"Maybe."

Delight shone on the man's face and he rose from his chair. "Well, then, come right in."

Bemused, Wordy trailed the siblings as they led him into another part of the building and a small exam room. Once the door was closed, Healer Travis cleared her throat. "Jesse, I'd like you to meet Auror Wordsworth. He needs a full medical for his Muggle personal file." Without waiting for a reply, she turned to Wordy. "Auror Wordsworth, meet my brother, Doctor Jesse Travis."

"Nice to meet you," Wordy said at once, shaking the doctor's hand.

"And you," Doctor Travis returned, before casting a confused look at his sister. "He's a Muggleborn?"

"Actually, I'm a Squib," Wordy cut in. "I work for the Police Strategic Response Unit and my team works on both sides of the fence."

It was Healer Travis' turn to frown. "You said you were an Auror."

"I am an Auror," Wordy replied, pulling out his wallet badge and opening it up so the two could see his Auror badge. "We hold rank on both sides, ma'am." Focusing on Doctor Travis, he awkwardly added, "See, thing is, my current medical is three years old, but I've been hit by a couple curses, so…"

The doctor nodded, understanding where Wordy was going. "So you avoided getting another full medical until now?"

"Yeah," Wordy admitted, rubbing the back of his head. "That's about the size of it."

Doctor Travis rubbed his hands together, looking both excited and intrigued by the challenge Wordy presented. "Well, I admit, I've not run into this type of situation before, but let's see what we can do. My sister here should be able to help me keep any hint of magic out of your medical report. Of course, since your last medical was three years ago and you're a new patient, it's going to take awhile to get the results, Constable Wordsworth."

"That's fine," Wordy replied. "I've lived my whole life on the tech side of the fence, Doctor Travis; waiting for results isn't new to me."

A gleam shone in the doctor's eyes, but he didn't ask about Wordy's choice of term. "Okay, then. Let's get started."

A week after Wordy's initial meeting with Healer Travis, Dr. Travis called him at home and asked when he would be available to come in. Well aware that his cleared status was riding on getting his full medical, Wordy opted to take off from work and snapped up Travis's earliest appointment time.

Kevin and Shelley Wordsworth sat in Dr. Jesse Travis's small exam room with his sister, Healer Susan Travis, leaning against the wall. Jesse sighed as he brought up the test results on his computer screen. "Well, the good news, Constable Wordsworth, is that your overall health is very good. I see no problems in signing you off as cleared for duty."

"I concur," Susan drawled from her position.

"But?" Wordy pressed; he could tell there was something up…neither Travis looked happy.

"But," Susan agreed, with a brief, tiny smirk. "You do have a problem, Constable."

"A problem?" Shelley asked worriedly.

It was Jesse who dropped the bombshell. "You have Parkinson's Disease, Constable Wordsworth."

Wordy froze. It took a minute to get his mouth to work again. "I have what?"

"Parkinson's Disease," Susan repeated impatiently, tossing her head just a bit. "It's a neurological disease…"

"I know what it is," Wordy cut in, looking between the siblings. Focusing in on Susan, he asked, "Can you treat it?"

The regret on her face was answer enough, but she replied nonetheless, her voice almost gentle, "No, I can't, Auror Wordsworth. Wizards and witches don't get Parkinson's Disease, so there's never been any research into it."

Wordy stiffened. "So…if I weren't a Squib…"

"In all likelihood, you wouldn't have gotten this," Susan finished. "I'm very sorry, Auror."

With a harsh swallow, Wordy turned his attention to Jesse. "What are my options?"

Jesse gave him an encouraging smile. "We've caught this fairly early on, so we've got time to figure things out and get you on a treatment plan. Now, although there's plenty of research going on, there's no cure on our side of the fence, either, but if you respond well to the medication, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to continue in your job as a police constable, at least for the foreseeable future."

"Where do I start?" Wordy asked, clenching Shelley's hand; she squeezed back just as tightly.

"We'll start with the most common medication and work our way up," Jesse decided. "Now, I can also see if you qualify for any of the research studies, but that would mean taking medication that's still in development and possibly quite expensive."

"Let's stick with the basics for now," Wordy decided, earning a brisk nod. As the doctor turned away to consult with his sister, Wordy and Shelley exchanged looks and Wordy felt a lump in his throat. Parkinson's…it already felt like a death knell.