The Rod of Asclepius
Chapter IV
Black Jack had no visual clues of the route that Hagrid was taking, for they were surrounded by clouds for most of their journey. Once in a great while the surface of the earth would peek though an opening in the clouds, and then just as quickly the hole would close up again. On these occasions the doctor could sometimes see green earth beneath him, sometimes it was the peaks of tall mountains, and for several long stretches they were clearly flying above a vast expanse of open water, possibly the Pacific or Atlantic oceans. The queerest thing was that the sun never did seem to set for they were traveling in perpetual daylight. It was as if they were keeping pace with the rotation of the earth about its axis.
Time seemed to stand still, the doctor found that he actually had no idea how long they had been in the air. He was neither tired nor sore from sitting in the side car of the motorcycle for so long as they descended below the cloud deck at the end of their journey. Now flying over green rolling hills, the doctor could make out the tracks of a rail line. He blinked to clear his vision and saw an old steam locomotive pulling a train of passenger cars. The train looked like it was brand new, perhaps it was a tourist train, he thought for what rail line would make use of such an outdated piece of equipment?
Looming ahead in the distance he could see the towers of a stone fortress resembling a medieval castle. A river flowed toward the fortification, and there were several small hamlets or villages enclosed within the walls of the barricades. As the flying motorcycle turned toward the castle, it became clear that this was their ultimate destination. Hagrid pulled the umbrella from his belt and seemed to aim it at the drawbridge, which then began to lower down into the open position. The motorcycle came in for a landing on the cobblestone roadway leading into the castle, and they rolled over the bridge that spanned a wide moat surrounding the fortification. Hagrid came to a stop inside a large courtyard.
"Welcome to Hogwarts, Doctor Black Jack." the man mountain said as he dismounted from the saddle and helped the doctor out of the sidecar. Black Jack picked up the small black bag that he had brought along with him and opened it to inspect the contents. The stethoscope and the small assortment of scalpels were still securely stored away in the bag.
The doctor looked around him, taking in the sights. From the cobblestone streets, to the horse drawn carts and the oil lamps hanging from poles he could easily imagine himself in Europe during the middle ages, perhaps even inside of Camelot at King Arthur's court.
"What is this place?" Black Jack asked Hagrid.
"You are now inside the center of the Wizarding world." Hagrid replied proudly. "Hogwarts is one of the oldest and most respected institutions of higher learning in the world of magic. But, I'd better allow the headmaster to lecture you on the history of this noble school. Come along with me, he's waiting for us."
It was a good long walk from the castle courtyard to the great hall that led to the offices of the headmaster. All along the way the doctor lagged behind his host to observe the scenery. Each of the hallways was lined with row after row of portraits, the faces in each of them seemed alive as the men and women in the pictures turned their heads to watch as the doctor passed by them.
"Takes a bit of getting used to, I suppose." Hagrid said. "Things in the magical world are not quite the same as they are in the Muggle one."
Finally they reached the portion of the castle that housed the school administration. Hagrid lifted the handle of the heavy iron knocker on the door to the headmaster's study and pounded on it three times, producing a loud echoing thunder from within the room.
"Please enter, Hagrid." came the voice of the headmaster from inside. "And please escort the good doctor in post haste!"
Professor Dumbledore's desk was located toward the back of the room, just in front of a circular staircase leading up to a balcony that wrapped around the room. The two long parallel walls of the room were lined with shelves and bookcases extending from the floor to the ceiling, a ladder running on a track provided access to the the upper shelves. The doctor could see what looked like thousands of old leather bound volumes on the shelves, most of which were titled in letters of an ancient alphabet that he had no knowledge of. Perched on a hat rack at the entrance to the office sat a large bird with golden scarlet feathers and a magnificent beak. The creature seemed to study the doctor as he passed by, and it squawked its approval toward the headmaster.
Sitting in a wheel chair next to the headmaster was the familiar figure of Augustus Slytherin, the patient the doctor had recently discharged from his care. A young boy dressed in wizard's robes and wearing glasses stood next to the wheelchair in front of the headmaster's desk. The lad had a scar above his right eye. A middle aged gentleman who showed a family resemblance to the doctor's former patient stood next to the boy.
"I am Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of this school," Dumbledore addressed the doctor. "You've already met Rubeus Hagrid, the school grounds keeper. Hagrid is an old and trusted friend, someone I have often called upon to handle delicate tasks, such as bringing you here today. You also already know Augustus Slytherin who has been a resident of these parts almost as long as I have." Dumbledore then introduced the man standing in front of his desk, "This is Horace Slughorn, an instructor at this institution, and a former head of the house of Slytherin. He is the great great nephew of your recent patient."
"Ah, I thought I noticed a family resemblance." Black Jack said.
"Finally, let me introduce you to Harry Potter, one of our students." The headmaster continued. "Harry will probably be assisting you in your endeavors here."
"Yes, what is the nature of this plague that you need me to eradicate?" Black Jack asked.
"Hopefully, the infection won't spread to that extent." Dumbledore said. "At the moment, there are only two students infected. Their symptoms are that of a semi comatose state and discoloring of the skin. We believe the disease was created by an ancient spell and potion, however the malady does not appear to be reversible by magic. We also don't know the nature of its contagion, which may or may not involve wizardry. Hence we require someone with considerable skills in both."
"But I'm no sorcerer." Kuro replied.
"That remains to be seen," the headmaster explained. "In any case, Harry Potter will assist you."
Suddenly, the heavy oaken door to the study burst open as Lucius Malfoy barged into the room. The governor of Hogwarts looked around the room, and quickly laid eyes on the doctor. He noticed the traditional physician's bag that the doctor had with him, and he quickly spoke what was on his mind.
"So this is the Muggle healer that you've illegally brought in to treat my son!" the elder Malfoy yelled. "Blasphemy!"
"He's hardly a mere Muggle!"
In mass the assembled crowd turned to see where the voice had come from. Sitting on an upper shelf behind the headmaster's desk, the sorting hat looked down at the doctor and governor Malfoy. Normally, the sorting hat was an inanimate object, only coming to life when placed on the head of a student about to be judged for suitability in one of the four noble houses in the school. This time, the hat sat on no ones head, yet it had just vocalized an opinion about an individual quite a distance away.
"What means this!" Lucius demanded.
"Why don't we find out?" Dumbledore replied, as he reached up to the shelf behind his desk and removed the enchanted haberdashery from its resting place and carried it toward where the doctor was standing. The headmaster slid a chair from against the wall toward the doctor and motioned for him to sit down.
"Now let's see how this all sorts out." he smiled, placing the headwear on top of the doctor's skull.
The sorting hat opened its eyes and smiled. "A most interesting problem!" It said. "Where does this healer belong? I see great potential here! Probably the greatest healer who has ever lived, or ever shall live! His ancestry goes way back and far away to Mahotokoro for sure, yet he has blood ties from both Asia and Europe. Where shall we place him here in Hogwarts? Where does he belong? His healers ancestry and hidden strengths calls out for a place in Slytherin, yet his mannerisms more closely fit elsewhere. I can see a strong kinship developing along other lines, yes the good doctor belongs in Gryffindor!"
"What is this nonsense!" Lucius cried out as he ripped the sorting hat from the doctors head, only to cry out in pain from the burning in his hands.
"It seems the sorting hat has a strong self defense, Lucius!" the headmaster said as he caught the enchanted hat in mid air after it was flung from Malfoy's grip.
"I don't understand." the doctor questioned.
"Maybe I can clear things up with one more test." Augustus said. He wheeled his chair toward where the doctor was sitting and removed a long narrow wooden box from a pocket in his robe. He laid the box on his lap, and carefully opened it. Inside of the box was a beautifully carved wand with a leather handle, and strap. The wand looked like a miniature version of the walking stick that the old man carried with him, for it had carved into it the image of a serpent coiled around the body of the wand, stretching from the handle to the tip.
"This wand has been in my family for generations." Augustus explained. "It belonged to a many times great grandfather of mine who was one of the most famous healers in all of wizardry. This wand may very well be the original 'Rod of Asclepius' from which the legend sprung forth."
Augustus sighed and took a breath before continuing.
"It is a fact that while a wand is made by the hand of man, they are unique individuals. A wizard does not choose his wand, the wand chooses the wizard. After its original owner passed on into the great unknown, this wand was handed down from generation to generation in my family, yet it would not work its magic for anyone, for it has not yet found another healer worthy of its kinship. When I was given possession of this instrument, I had hoped that it would take to my hands, as it did my ancient grandfather, but it rejected me as it did so many others before me."
Augustus motioned toward the doctor.
"Take this wand into your hand and let it judge you."
"Blasphemy" Lucius again cried, reaching for the wand himself. There was a brilliant flash of light, and Malfoy was thrown back violently. He smashed into a tall bookcase on the wall behind him, causing a pile of books to rain down upon his head. The governor got up and brushed himself off. Gathering his dignity, he ran out of the room in a great huff.
While the others watched, Black Jack reached out for the wand. The box started to vibrate in Augustus's lap, releasing a humming sound. The doctor backed away from the box.
"Don't be afraid." Augustus said. "It won't bite you."
Once again the doctor approached the box and reached out his hand. Once again the wand started to produce a humming sound, that increased in pitch as Black Jack grew nearer, until it sounded like a choir of angels singing. Suddenly there was a flash of light and the wand was gone from the box. It reappeared in the doctor's right hand. Startled by it all, Black Jack tried to remove the wand from his hand, but it was stuck fast as if glued in place. The tip of the wand glowed and then all was quiet.
"It appears that the wand has chosen a wizard!" Augustus said.
"But I have no magic!" Black Jack said with a puzzled look on his face as he stared at the wand in his right hand. "I can't make this work for me."
"You will with practice." Augustus told him. "Are you sure you have no memories of ever having caused something magical to happen? You did exhibit the power of vision while you operated on me, you saw the cancerous legions inside my brain and your scalpel was guided by them, admit that at least."
"What guided my hands were my years of experience and knowledge." the doctor said. "Purely a kind of reflex."
"If you say so." Augustus muttered. "Tell me what do you remember of your childhood, something that shaped you into what you are today?"
"A very painful and tragic event" Black Jack answered.
"Tell us of it." Augustus said, "I know you don't want to relive it, but you can't escape it, and the clues of your future are in your past."
Black Jack took a deep breath. "Very well," he said.
"Towards the end of the second world war, my country of Japan was preparing for the invasion our our homeland by the forces of the allies, lead by the United States of America. Our government was convinced that this invasion would come by sea, and our defenses were concentrated along the portions of our shoreline that were the most likely landing spots for this attack. When the Americans dropped leaflets demanding our surrender with the threat of massive destruction if we did not, the military was even more convinced that the invasion was imminent. Land mines were laid along our shores, and barricades were erected. We had no idea that the final attack would come in the form of atomic bombs dropped on our cities. After the destruction of Nagasaki, our country quickly surrendered. For many years after the war, the land mines that had been laid in the path of the invaders that never came took the lives of many innocent Japanese citizens. There were so many of them, that they were never all discovered.
Years later, my mother and I were playing along the beach. That stretch of beautiful white sand was slated to be developed, hotels and apartments were planned for the area and it was our last chance to enjoy that part of the shore. I remember digging in the sand when I came upon the rusty casing of the bomb that had lay there for so long. I called out to my mother in surprise and she came running, for she had a horrible feeling that she knew what I had found. I don't remember the explosion, I woke up in a hospital having been sewn back together by Dr. Honma. My body was encased in bandages and casts, I could see out of only one eye because my face was covered with gauze awaiting a skin graft. Despite the fact that I was right on top of the mine when it detonated and my mother was several feet behind me, she had been more badly injured than I, and died shortly after I had awaken from my surgeries. I only saw her once after that when Dr. Honma wheeled me over to her room. She never regained consciousness."
"You were on top of the blast and should have received the full force of the explosion, yet your mother who was further away did not survive?" Augustus asked. "How do you explain that?"
"I can not."
"You are suppressing a critical memory." Augustus said. "Albus, I think we need the use of your Pensieve."
"It's over here." Dumbledore replied, removing a heavy cloth from atop of a pedestal. The Pensieve was a large silver bowl filled with a dark, reflective liquid. "Would you be so kind as to wheel my chair over there?" Augustus asked the doctor.
"What is this device?" the doctor asked.
"It is a means of sorting, saving, and examining memories." Dumbledore told the doctor. "With this you can lift the darkness that hides what your mind is keeping from you."
The headmaster removed his wand from its pocket in his robe and held it above the doctor's head. "This may feel a little strange, perhaps even disturbing, but it will quickly pass." he said "Now close your eyes and think of that troublesome memory when you and your mother were about to be blown up by the land mine."
The doctor did as he was asked. The headmaster touched the tip of his wand to the doctors head and seemed to pull a silken thread from inside his mind. He deposited it into the Pensieve bowl, and then repeated the procedure several more times. Dumbledore gazed deeply into the bowl of the Pensieve.
"I think we have what we are looking for," he told the doctor. "You may open your eyes now. Please look deeply into the bowl, and let your mind get lost in what you see."
The doctor looked into the dark liquid in the bowl. Slowly an image formed before his eyes, and he was transported back through time to the sandy shores of the Pacific side of Japan. He was a young boy again running barefoot over the white sands ahead of his mother. Sea Gulls flew over head looking for crabs popping their heads out of the sand. He started to dig, looking for shells and again he came upon the rusty remains of the relic from the war. "Mom, What's this?" he heard himself cry out, and he heard his mother running toward him and yelling for him to get away from where he was. Suddenly, time seemed to stand still. He could see the deadly device detonating and he willed the explosion back with his mind. He started to turn and run from the exploding land mine and had turned completely around when his saw his mother approaching. His concentration was partially broken as he opened his mouth to warn her away. He felt the flying shrapnel of the bomb hitting him, and his mind reached out to deflect what he could of it. All then went dark.
"Without knowing what you were doing, you used a very powerful spell to shield yourself from the bomb." Dumbledore told Black Jack. "Few Wizards can yield such powerful magic without a wand, and without uttering a sound, thinking the spell in their minds. That's why you survived the blast, you were able to deflect just enough of it despite how close you were to it. It must have been a very powerful explosive, because your mother who was much further away suffered still greater injuries."
"I remember now." The doctor said. "I remember feeling the force flow through my body, my will directing the energy. For an instant I felt like a god." He looked at the wand that was still clamped in his fist. "I don't know if I can trust myself to wield such power again, yet I think that I must learn how."