Augusta Longbottom approached a large, old fashioned, red-brick department store in London called Purge & Dowse. All the doors were locked shut and signs were stuck on the building which read "Closed for Refurbishment". The refurbishment was clearly a long time in the planning for the building had been untouched for years - the shop window dummies dressed in their out of date fashions a testament to this fact. The muggles went by without a second glance, the presence of the building slipping from their minds as soon as they had gone passed.
Augusta stopped in front of a particularly ugly female dummy with its eyelashes falling off and wearing a green nylon pinafore dress, "I'm here to see Frank and Alice Longbottom" she said softly. The dummy gave a tiny nod, beckoned with its finger and Augusta stepped through the glass. It felt as if she were walking through a sheet of warm water, she had done this so many times before that she had lost count but the experience had never lost its novelty. She emerged into a reception area and with the familiarity of a regular visitor she nodded greetings to the staff and made her way to the fourth floor of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
She had been visiting the ward for permanent spell damage for almost 15 years and had expected to do so for many more years but just before Christmas there had been a change and now she had something she had not had for 15 years – she had hope.
When she arrived at the ward she rang the visitor's bell at the door and was let in by the younger healer who was pregnant. "Hello Augusta," she said as she opened the door. "No Neville today?"
"School term has just started so I can't bring him with me every time I visit for the next few weeks," explained Augusta and she made her way to the end of the ward where her son and daughter-in-law had resided for the past decade and a half. Previously when she had arrived, Alice and Frank would either be lying in their beds or sitting on the chairs next to them like permanent fixtures. The healers would bring to their attention that visitors were here before they would slowly understand that they should move. Today, however, Augusta saw Alice and Frank sitting at a table that was covered in artist's materials – paper, paint and pencils. They hadn't yet noticed her and were busy making patterns on the paper. She saw Frank bent over his paper, holding a pencil in his hands and tracing an outline with great care and deliberation, just as he used to do when he was a boy. Augusta recalled how she would reprimand him for making a mess on the table and he would reply cheekily that he was making a mess for her and would present her with a poorly drawn picture.
Augusta walked the length of the ward and as she got closer Alice noticed her and said to Frank "Augusta is here."
Frank stopped his work and said "Mother." He picked up the paper he had been drawing on and gave it to her "For you" he said.
Augusta took the proffered picture and looked at it. His drawing skills had never been good and this was no exception but to Augusta it was worth more than any masterpiece by an eminent painter. It showed a family of stick-men and women together in a brightly coloured house, a yellow sun was in the corner of the picture and the sky was painted blue above green grass dotted with lavender flowers. Augusta looked at some of the other paintings on the table. There was a sheet of paper with angry black lines painted haphazardly over it; many sheets with splodges of colour interspersed with dark patches; other intricately drawn patterns neatly coloured in. One drawing had been torn in half and thrown the floor. Augusta picked it up and joined the pieces together. It showed a tiny stick man in the corner of the page and a giant stick woman standing over him her teeth bared and flashes of dark colour coming from her wand.
Alice said, "Leave that one on the floor. We don't like it."
Augusta threw it back onto the floor, willing to do anything her daughter-in-law asked. It had been too long since she had asked Augusta for anything. Years of silence had been broken just before Christmas when Augusta heard Alice say the word "Frank" and she knew who the name belonged to. Since then Alice had spoken many times and Frank was regaining his voice too. Each word they said was music to Augusta's ears.
Alice looked behind Augusta as if she was searching for something. "Where's Neville?" she finally asked.
"He's back at school. At Hogwarts," Augusta replied gently.
"School? Hogwarts?" echoed Alice. "He's too young to be at school. He's only a baby."
Augusta face fell in sadness, Alice may have found her voice but she had yet to understand the passage of time. "No, he's almost grown now, Alice. He is fifteen years old."
"Oh," said Alice. "Fifteen." She smiled guilelessly at Augusta. "Frank and I were fifteen when we first met. It was at a school ball. I didn't go to Hogwarts did I?" she asked uncertainly.
"No, Alice. You were privately educated at home because your father travelled a lot and your mother didn't like to be on her own."
"Oh yes. Mother. I remember her. Where is she?" asked Alice looking behind Augusta again to see if her mother was behind her.
"She can't come to see you, Alice she's not well herself." Augusta said by way of explanation. It was not true, Alice's mother was in perfect health but she refused to see her daughter or to acknowledge her grandson.
Alice's mother was a beautiful but lazy and self-centred woman. She had married a wealthy man much older than she was and told him she would bear him only one child. She had resented being pregnant, for it ruined her body. The baby had been a girl, not the boy her husband had wanted. As the child grew up it soon became clear that she had not inherited her mother's good looks. So Alice's childhood was one of neglect. She was always well fed and dressed and her parents spent money on the best tutors but they showed no affection for their only child.
She had, indeed, met Frank at a school ball but it was not at Hogwarts, it was at Beauxbatons. Alice's father had business with the school and, in the interest of demonstrating he was a family man, he had brought along his wife and daughter to the social event he was expected to attend. His wife had been in her element, wearing the newest French fashions and glowing in the admiring comments she received. She told Alice not to bother her unless she was called and so Alice tried to hide in the shadows. Frank had been visiting his French exchange student and was also at the ball. He soon noticed the only other English person of his own age and before long they were conversing and dancing as if they had known each other for years.
When Frank and Alice had married a few years' later, Alice's parents came to the wedding because it was expected of them. When her father died within two years of her marriage, Alice was informed. Upon his death he left his widow very well provided for. Alice had wanted to share her joy of the birth of her own son, Neville, with her surviving parent but her mother was not interested. She was too busy spending her way through her late husband's fortune and did not want to be reminded that she was a grandmother.
After Alice and Frank's admittance to St Mungo's following Bellatrix Lestrange's torture of them, and the long term nature of their injuries, Alice's mother cut off all association with her daughter and wanted nothing to do with her grandson. Augusta and her husband willingly took in their only grandson and brought him up in the best way they could, Augusta considered it was Alice's mother's loss that she could not love or appreciate the brave, loyal and intelligent woman she had given birth to or find any compassion in her selfish heart for a child who was all-but orphaned.
Alice and Frank had returned to making patterns on the paper and were engrossed in the task. Augusta crossed quietly behind them to look out the window. On the wall opposite was a scene of a sandy desert. Crescent shaped dunes, with undulating wave like patterns on the surface. The image zoomed in on a lizard twisting its way erratically up the slope with two pairs of tiny footprints in its wake, showing the path it had taken but the traces soon blown away by the wind as if it had never set foot on the ground. The healers had told her that it was seeing one of these projected images that had first prompted Alice to speak. The younger healer, who was muggle-born, had explained that muggles thought that stimulation through the senses was a method of treatment which often produced good results. It would seem she was correct. The calm and unvarying routine since they were put into St Mungo's had done nothing for them so far.
Although, now Augusta thought about it, the last time Alice showed improvement was last year when the younger healer had come to the ward for the first time. She remembered the day clearly. She and Neville had arrived in the morning and Alice had been the same as ever but when Augusta and Neville returned from lunch, Alice had stared and stared at Neville and Augusta in a way she had never done before; it was as if she recognised them and some connections were being made in her brain. Neville had whispered "Mum". Alice put her hand on his face and examined his face minutely looking between him and Frank. Tears had come into Neville's eyes and dripped down his face. Alice wiped them off with her sleeve and she took a sweet wrapper from her pocket and gave it to Neville. He had accepted it as if was the most valuable thing he'd ever been given.
One of the senior healers had been called to see the changes. He said although it was rare, sudden spontaneous improvements could occur but it was still unlikely that Alice ever get any better. He said it would have been a kindness if she'd stayed as she was, when she had no awareness of the quality of her life. Augusta disagreed, Alice had finally recognised that her son was important. Since that day Alice had handed Neville so many sweet wrappers he could paper his wall with them.
Augusta folded the drawing Frank had given to her and put it in her handbag. Later she would add it to the collection she had of drawings he had done as a child and those Neville had drawn for her and his parents as he grew up, which she treasured as only a mother can. Once she had despaired of ever being able to share Neville's scribblings with Alice and Frank but now she truly hoped that the day was coming when she could.
She heard Alice call to her. "Augusta, come and draw something with us."
Augusta's artistic skills were no better than her son's were but she sat down at the table and selected some paper and pencils and began to draw. The three worked in a silence which Augusta felt no need to break. Her companions were concentrating on their work with genuine interest and that was all the conversation she needed.
When Augusta was gone, the healer, Miriam Strout, picked up the drawings thrown to the floor and also some from the table. She would give them to the Alice and Frank's counsellor for their next session. When Frank and Alice had first been admitted to St Mungo's their physical injuries had been tended to but if any one tried to talk to them about their experiences, the pair of them closed down and refused to communicate. After a while the healers stopped trying because of the distress to the patients, but, with the benefit of hindsight, Miriam now suspected that Frank and Alice's continued silence became more of a habit than it was a defence and a reluctance to face what had happened to them.
Counselling had recently been introduced into the treatment of Frank and Alice after the effects of the murals on the wall and the paints had been shown to be beneficial. It was another lesson learned from the way muggles treat traumatised patients. Miriam had always been guided by the advice from her senior colleagues and head of department that the wizard way of calm and routine was the best they could ever do for patients like Frank and Alice. Now she wished that someone had thought to investigate muggle ways years ago and she included herself in that failure to remove the blinkered view that the wizard ways were the best.
A few weeks later the younger healer came to say goodbye to the Longbottom family because she was about to go on maternity leave. Alice bid her farewell with a vague understanding that she wouldn't see her for a while, this woman who reminded her of Lily. "Where is Lily?" she asked.
"Lily is dead," the healer replied sadly.
"Her baby. Where is her baby?" Alice asked in distress.
"He's almost a young man now" the healer said, "He's at Hogwarts."
"You've heard Neville mention him haven't you Alice?" Augusta interjected, "His friend Harry Potter."
"Harry - yes that was his name," Alice said thoughtfully. "Lily kept him safe, didn't she?"
"Yes, she kept him safe. She gave her life to protect him," the healer said.
Alice clutched at the healer's arm and looked at her with intensity. "The woman, that devil's woman, she wanted to hurt my baby. I wouldn't tell her where he was no matter what she did to me. I kept Neville safe."
The healer covered Alice's hand with her own and she and Augusta finally understood how Alice had endured the torture. "Yes Alice, you kept him safe. He knows he has a very courageous mother," Augusta said softly.
Alice removed her hand from the healer's hold and placed it on her pregnant belly. "You'll keep your baby safe."
"I will," whispered the healer. "Now," she continued brightly, "Shall I bring it in after it's born. Would you like to see my baby?"
"Oh yes," replied Alice, her attention wandered and she moved away to see what Frank was doing.
The healer followed her, "Goodbye Alice. Goodbye Frank," she said, "I'll be back in a few months."
"Goodbye" Alice said off-handedly as she helped Frank to sort out the paints into colour order.
The next time Augusta came to visit her son and daughter-in-law she asked Miriam, "How are they doing?" as the healer opened the door for her.
"Better, I'd say" she replied, "go on down."
Both Alice and Frank were dressed, a copy of Witch Weekly was spread over the table with the paint pots. To Augusta's surprise they were looking intently at its contents. "Augusta," said Alice cheerfully, "come and see."
Augusta disapproved of the frivolous nature of Witch Weekly and would not give it house room but she made no comment and sat down at the table to see what had interested Alice. The magazine was open at a page about interior decorating and showed a room over decorated (in Augusta's view) with frills and trimmings in soft pastel colours. The soft furnishings were flouncy and floral, lacy curtains at the window and an intricate pattern on the wallpaper. The room was dressed with bucolic ornaments, dried flowers and a large, elaborately framed oval mirror above the fireplace. The style was not at all to Augusta's taste and neither, she thought, to Alice's. "Would you like a room decorated like that?" she asked in an attempt to get Alice to give an opinion.
"No," said Alice immediately, she stabbed her finger on the overstuffed sofa, "but look – it's Jess!"
Augusta fumbled in her bag to find her reading spectacles, put them on and peered at the photograph. Sitting on the sofa, almost hidden in the folds and the twee pattern was a small brown and white dog, its ears perked up and head cocked slightly to one side as if listening to something out of sight.
"Jess," murmured Augusta softly.
Jess was the name of a brown and white Jack Russell terrier puppy that Alice and Frank had bought shortly before Alice discovered she was pregnant with Neville. Ever soft hearted, Frank and Alice had not wanted to give the dog away just because they were having a baby. Fortunately Jess turned out to be an even tempered dog who was protective, not jealous, of the new arrival.
When Augusta and her husband had taken in their grandson after Frank and Alice were admitted to St Mungo's, they decided that Neville had lost so much it would be unkind to take away the dog too and so Jess came to live with them. As Neville grew up the dog was his constant companion. She tolerated his uneven handling of her when he was a toddler. Neville's first steps were made trying to run after Jess and Augusta had known full well that he would throw the food he didn't like to Jess – there were seldom any scraps on the floor around Neville.
Dog and boy grew up together and Jess was faithful to her young master. She had accompanied him and Augusta on his first day at infant school and waited outside the school until he emerged at the end of the day. Nothing Augusta could say on that first day persuaded her to stop her vigil. After a few days Jess must have known that Neville was safe at school and she returned home willingly with Augusta. When it was time to collect Neville from school, Jess would seek out Augusta and run between her and the door to make sure that she was on time. Neville was never left to wait on his own outside the school.
As they grew older Neville and Jess would be gone for hours in the countryside pretending they were explorers and come home dirty, exhausted but happy. Unfortunately a dog ages faster than a boy and by the time he was 11 years old Neville would often return from one of their adventures carrying the dog asleep in his arms.
When Neville's grandfather had died, it was Jess who gave the boy the comfort he needed whilst Augusta was steeped in her own grief for the loss of her husband. Neville spoke to Jess with words he could not say to his grandmother and as she eavesdropped on his one sided conversation her heart broke some more for her boy who had loved and confided in his beloved grandfather in a way he could never do with her.
Neville's admittance to Hogwarts meant he had to leave Jess at home, dogs were not on the list of pets permitted at school. When Neville was 8 and had shown his first sign of magical ability, Neville's great uncle Algie had given a toad, whom Neville named Trevor, but it was no substitute in his affections for Jess. She was so much more than a faithful canine companion, she was a living link to his parents; something they had chosen to include in their lives and something they were fond of.
These days Jess still lived with Augusta, having reached an advanced age for a dog. She spent much of her time resting in the corner of whichever room Augusta was working in. Her coat was now speckled with grey, especially around her muzzle, her eyes had clouded over and her movements were slow and careful. Augusta often found herself talking to Jess (although she would never have admitted it to anyone) and she feared the day when she would finally be alone in her own house. When Neville came home, Jess would light up, struggle to her feet and rush as fast as she could to greet him. Neville would pat her gently and lovingly before taking her for a short, slow walk.
"Look it's Jess" repeated Alice.
It occurred to Augusta that there was one more service that Jess could do for the Longbottom family to add to the long list of debts they already owed the faithful dog. Augusta spoke to healer Strout about her idea. She was amenable to the suggestion, provided that her superior, the head of department was in agreement. "Leave that to me," Augusta told her with a glint of determination in her eye and Miriam felt certain that the request would be granted.
A few days later Augusta walked into the spell damage ward accompanied by a very old brown and white dog.
"The head of department agreed then," said Miriam, with a slight smile playing around her lips.
"Oh yes," replied Augusta airily. "At first he objected to the idea of animals being brought into the hospital – he said they were dirty, unhygienic and against hospital policy. But I persuaded him to make an exception." Miriam knew how persuasive the older woman could be and almost felt sorry for the head of department.
As Augusta and Jess walked slowly down the ward towards Alice and Frank's beds, Miriam noticed instantly the other patients take notice of the new visitor. Gilderoy Lockhart sat up straight and told her a story about a time when he had removed a thorn from the paw of a wolf. Gilderoy continued the story saying that at a later date he was surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves but one of them was the wolf he had helped and it prevented the other wolves from attacking him. Miriam was never sure which of Gilderoy's stories were true and which ones he had made up, nevertheless this was one she hadn't heard before and took it as a good sign as a further improvement to his memory.
Augusta and Jess reached the end of the ward where Frank and Alice were dressed and seated together on a sofa that had recently been brought into the ward. "Frank, Alice, good morning," Augusta said cheerily, "I have a special visitor for you."
Two pairs of eyes stared at the small dog standing on the floor. Augusta undid the lead around Jess's neck which she had been obliged to put on the dog as condition of bringing her in, although a lead was hardly necessary on such an old and well behaved dog. Jess remained by Augusta's side her rheumy eyes seeing little but vague shapes. Her sense of smell was as sharp as ever and she sniffed the air trying to make sense of the new and strange scents that surrounded her. The smell of Augusta was strong and comforting but other long-forgotten yet strangely familiar scents were coming through, cutting across the medicinal and sharp aromas of the ward. It was a scent like, and also, unlike Neville, as if his unique scent had been split into its component parts. Jess took a cautious step forward in the direction the smell was coming from.
Alice and Frank watched the dog walk towards them. "It's a dog," commented Frank.
"Yes," said Augusta, "this is Jess."
"But Jess is a puppy" said Alice, still watching the dog as it sniffed the air.
"Jess has grown much older since you last saw her, Alice." Augusta said patiently, "Like Neville who isn't a baby anymore and neither is Jess. She is very old for a dog."
Alice held out her hand as Jess got closer until she could touch the dog's head. It was soft and warm, she moved her touch to caress the dog's ears which felt like smooth velvet. The dog nuzzled into her sniffing and remembering the smell of this human that she hadn't smelt for years, except second hand from Neville and Augusta.
Frank had been watching his wife and dog become re-acquainted and he suddenly commanded in a sharp voice, "Jess, play dead!"
Jess slowly sank to the ground and stiffly rolled over onto her back and lay unmoving with her legs in the air. Alice knelt down on the ground beside her and gently stroked the dog's belly saying, "good dog; good dog."
Frank spoke again, "Jess – stand up!"
Slowly the dog turned over and struggled to her feet, Alice continued to stroke the dog. Playing dead was not a trick that Neville had ever taught the dog, and Augusta had never seen her do it. Surely it was something that pre-dated Neville's arrival at Augusta's house and that Augusta was amazed that both Frank and Jess could still remember it after all these years. Frank ordered Jess to play dead several more times in quick succession and Augusta could see the dog was tired but still struggled to obey.
"Frank," she said, "Jess is getting tired now, you must let her rest and stop asking her to play dead."
Frank was immediately contrite, he understood about being tired by doing too much and left Jess to lie on the floor where he joined her and Alice and they stroked and petted the dog until she fell asleep.
Augusta brought Jess to visit several more time and on each occasion Frank or Alice would recount a different tale about Jess as a puppy and a young dog. They told about the months before Neville was born when she would leap around the house like a bouncy ball; how she once chewed up one of Frank's dirty socks which she had taken from the laundry pile; how, when Alice was big with her pregnancy, Jess would calmly sit with her on the sofa and snuggle up with her head resting on Alice's belly; how she would be startled when the baby moved inside. After Neville was born, Jess would sit by his cot or pram and growl at anyone or anything which dared to come close if Frank or Alice weren't on hand. How she was the best dog that anyone could have included in their household. The telling of these stories improved their vocabulary and sharpened their minds, reminding and teaching them that not all memories were bad.
One day, in the spring, when Augusta and Neville had both come to visit along with Jess, Alice said they should take Jess for a walk. St Mungo's hospital had several courtyards included in its design for the purpose of patients being able to go outside and benefit from fresh air and to escape from the confinement of a ward. Frank and Alice were taken outside from time to time when someone remembered but this was the first occasion they had ever asked to go. They were both already dressed so Augusta and Neville accompanied them to the nearest courtyard. The courtyard was a grassed central area with a paved foot path around the outside, several benches were sited at various points and many of them were occupied by other patients enjoying the sunny weather.
"Jess likes the woods best," said Alice. Augusta cast a charm to produce an image of a copse in the centre of the yard, the sunlight appearing to shine through the leaf canopy and form a dappled pattern on the grass. The image was for effect only, Jess could not see it and in her world of smells although the grass on the ground was tangible, the forms of the trees was not. Alice did not understand this but smiled with pleasure that Jess could have a romp in the forest. Jess wandered slowly over the grass, frequently stopping to sniff at something which captured her interest, Alice seemed oblivious to the odd sight of Jess walking straight through the trees as if they were ghosts, which they surely were to the dog. Alice was holding the dog's lead, which they were required to use, she reached out for Frank's hand and together they walked around the courtyard. Augusta and Neville followed their footsteps and firmly ignored the stares of the patients sitting around the edges of the courtyard, they wanted to enjoy the moment and believe that there may many more to come, and one day the forest would be real and the grass would be outside the confines of the hospital.
One day, towards the end of May, Augusta came alone, Jess has passed away peacefully in her sleep. As she explained the situation, Augusta was overcome by sadness, she could not stop the tears from filling her eyes and she began to sob. Alice put her arms around Augusta and held her as she would to comfort a child, "Don't cry Augusta," she said tenderly "I know all livings things must die one day. Jess had a good life so don't be sad." But her words only made Augusta cry the harder but now the sorrow was mixed with the certainty that Alice was getting better.
A couple of weeks later the wizard world was buzzing with the news of the death of Albus Dumbledore, but the Longbottom family grieved more for the loss of their dog than the death of the man. The man under whose command Frank and Alice had been serving when they were injured and who had never come to visit in all the long years since.
True to her word, the younger healer visited the ward with her baby, a boy, when he was about 3 months old. Alice was delighted to see the baby, the healer showed no sign of nervousness for her child when Alice wanted to hold him and she confidently handed him over to Alice.
Alice held him securely and began to coo over the baby speaking in the baby talk that adults often adopt. "Hello," she said in a light and airy voice, "you're a lovely boy aren't you? With your big dark eyes and your thick black hair. But," and she lowered her voices to a whisper, "you're not as adorable as my Neville was when he was a baby." If the child's mother had overheard the comment she made no outward sign of acknowledgement, not even a secret smile. Alice said aloud, "Is he sleeping through night yet?"
"He manages about five hours at most," the healer replied.
"Neville used to sleep all night from when he was tiny," Alice said proudly.
"Did he?" the healer said, "you were lucky. I dream of a night of uninterrupted sleep."
"Neville could walk before he was a year old," Alice told her, "running after Jess."
Miriam came over to join them, as she had a few minutes to spare and wanted to see and hold the baby. She noticed that Alice seemed to be enjoying cuddling the baby and she decided to wait her turn.
"Once," Alice continued as she automatically rocked the baby she was holding, "before he could walk, Neville crawled over to Jess's food bowl and stuck his hands in it. Jess began to lick the food from his hands but he pushed her away and began to lick his own hands. I grabbed him before he could carry on eating the dog food, turned on the tap in the kitchen sink to wash his hands. He struggled and squealed trying to give his back to Jess to lick clean." Her eyes softened as she spoke. "After that I made sure that the dog's bowl was out of reach," she concluded.
The healers looked at Alice and each other in surprise, this was the longest and most lucid statement they had ever her say and was undoubtedly true. To encourage her expansive mood Miriam asked her, "Have you ever told Neville that story."
"No, I've only just remembered it."
"Perhaps you should tell him next time he comes in," Miriam suggested.
"Yes," Alice murmured. She abruptly stood up from the chair she had been sitting in and thrust the baby towards his mother, who took him from her. Alice turned away and wandered over the art table where she sat unmoving in a chair and stared absently at the paper and paints laid out like a rainbow splash on the white table.
Miriam asked if she could hold the baby. "He's gorgeous," she said. "I think he must take after his father, I can't see much of you in him."
The younger healer laughed, "I can assure you that is partly me – I was there at the birth!" Miriam smiled with her colleague who added, "He has my nose and my hands."
Miriam took a hold of one of the baby's hands, which opened out like a star. "Healer's hands," she commented as the baby curled his hand around her finger with a surprisingly tight grip.
Her colleague, changing the subject said, "Alice has shown a lot of improvement even in the few weeks I've been away."
"I know," replied Miriam, "it's quite remarkable. I wish we had known about and tried the muggle methods of stimulation and counselling long ago."
"Why didn't you?" asked her colleague.
"Healers are taught that damage directly caused by magic can only be healed by magic. Wizards, as you know, can be dismissive of muggle ideas and I suppose, no one wanted to try them out. Perhaps our arrogance and our prejudice had meant that we could have helped some patients more than we did," she concluded sadly.
"Alice and Frank," prompted the younger healer, "what's the prognosis?"
"I think we shall see slow progress over time using the muggle methods and they will see an improvement in their quality of life," Miriam said as she shifted the baby to a more comfortable position. He was looking at her with an interest and intensity as if he was listening to every word she said. "But the muggle treatment can only go so far - it is an established fact that the only magic can completely heal the damage done the excessive and brutal use of the Cruciatus Curse."
"Why hasn't magic been used already?" her colleague asked curiously.
"Because," answered Miriam sadly, "No wizard has yet had the skill and the power to affect such a cure. You must remember that the use of the Unforgiveable Curses is illegal and hence it is quite rare for serious damage to be inflicted on people. We can use memory charms on people like Gilderoy over there," she said indicating the patient by the door. "We expect him to be healed in a couple more years – it is a slow process. But for Alice and Frank's injuries there is not yet a cure in sight."
"Is anyone working on a cure?" asked her companion intently.
"I believe so. It is a line of research that has been going on for years but always suffers from lack of skilled researchers because it is so uncommon."
"But no one ever thought to try muggle methods as part of that research," the younger healer commented drily.
"No," sighed Miriam, "but they are now. Frank and Alice's treatment is quite a trailblazer. We get frequent visits from researchers and senior healers these days."
"I hope one of these researchers finds the key," observed her colleague, "if any one deserves their lives back, it is Frank and Alice."
Miriam nodded and the two healers sat quietly watching, waiting and hoping that the one day Frank and Alice would be able to walk away from St Mungo's to a full life outside of its walls.
