OH NO!! I haven't given you guys any background on Windwillow. I just realized. I'm sooo sorry. So this is very informal of me and horribly un-storylike. But I'm just going to tell you his history just the way it is right now. Sorry for the inconvenience. Please hit the review button and tell me what you think of the chapter.
Sid Windwillow: He's a 5'4'' round, half-Indian and half-Australian man. Dad's white and Australian. Mom's Indian and British. They meet at Sydney during a cruise stop over. He has a round face, and is slightly balding. He is 49 years old. He's wearing a white doctor's coat, and hands usually in his pockets. No glasses. He has a wrinkled forehead, from all the years of breaking the news to patients' loved ones. He also has small stuffy fingers.... u know? Picture Vernon Dursley, but a light brown color (not like tanned but you can tell his skin color is brown just a light shade of it ... makes sense?), no mustache and very kind, big grey eyes.
He's married to Christia Walker (48 years old) and has two daughters, 1 granddaughter, and one unborn granddaughter. She is a muggle and works at a muggle elementary school in London. He sucks at telling bad news because nothing horrible has ever happened to his family. So when giving bad news he pictures his wife in that position and someone telling him something happened to her, or his daughters' in Scorpius's situation and someone telling him everything he knows ... or worse!! It could be his 4 year old granddaughter. So he doesn't know how people are going to handle it. He has this big family (well kind of) and is in constant fear that they'll end up in St. Mungo's as well!
His daughters are Leah, 24, (lay-a) and Juliet, 22. Both are non-magical. Leah has been married for 4 years. She was pregnant during her engagement and Leah has been married a year and is now 6 months pregnant. The granddaughter, and daughter of Leah is Christy Lafayette and she's four and very magical. In magical ability, that is. Leah's husband is a fellow Healer at St. Mungo's. His name is Anthony Lafayette. He went to Durmstrang than transferred to St. Mungo's. He's 25. Juliet's husband is a Muggle. He's a Firefighter, and grew up next door to Juliet all his life. His name is Derek Driftwood. He's also 22 they're going to also have a daughter, planning on naming her Penelope and she's also going to be magical.
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The hallway we were standing in was had never looked more dull in all my time at St. Mungo's, but as I stared into Rose Weasley's sad brown eyes, everything about what I was about to say made me hate my job.
"Why the bloody hell did I become a Healer again?"I questioned myself. I hated the part in our job description that required us to lay out the bad news to relatives who were hoping for the best for their siblings or spouses or friends. But it was worst when I had to deliver this new to a young adult who was deeply in love.
I had only ever done it once before, when explaining to a Mr. Black many years ago that the potion given by a death eater had indeed killed his beloved. What a sad occasion it had been. I remember him sitting all alone in her room, holding her hand, and muttering about killing a certain cousin of his. "I wonder if he ever succeeded. What a sad life I'm told that man had. I hope he had the pleasure of at least getting that last bit of revenge."
I shook my head to focus myself again. I was wandering off into yesteryear. I saw Ms. Weasley give me look filled with curiosity, fear, and impatience. Obviously I had been quite too long. I exhaled, not realizing I was holding my breath. "I can do this," I thought to myself. "I am Healer Windwillow, the oldest Healer to be working at St. Mungo's and this was going to be my last year here. I will exit with dignity and continue to adhere to the hospital code, like I have for the past 25 years."
Rose seemed to sense the difficulty I was having, which only seemed to intensify the fear in her eyes, but her foot stopped tapping and she let her crossed arms fall to her sides. I looked back at her sympathetically and started to speak, "Ms. Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy was bitten by a rare snake that we have never created a cure for-"
"But you said you had a cure ready, that you were only working on the anecdote's intensity," she seemed very agitated. This was going to be harder and take longer than I had anticipated. A lot of interruptions were on their way. I realized that the middle of a corridor was no place to discuss this matter. And I informed her of this.
"Follow me to my office, where you and I can both sit and discuss this more fully." She nodded her head and followed me to the elevator. We stepped inside and I hit the button for the second floor. Along the way Ms. Weasley kept quiet and I contemplated how I should break it to her. Just as we existed the elevator and turned left she said, "Mr. Windwillow, please don't sugar-coat the truth for my sake. I want to know what's wrong with Scorpius and how he will fare. I don't want to be shielded from the hard truth. I grew up with an over-protective younger brother and a very passionate father. I don't need protection. I need the truth."
I smiled at her, and she nodded. That would certainly make my approach much easier. I just had to be frank with this woman and tell her all I knew about the situation. We walked to the end of the hall and I opened the solid white door. I let her step inside before me and offered her a seat in front of my messy, paper-strewn desk as I sat down in my chair.
"I really should organize this heap better," I thought to myself, looking down at my desk before meeting the every curious eyes of Ms. Rose Weasley.
I took one last breath and prepared myself for the forthcoming rant, "Alright, Ms. Weasley, you are a very bright witch. I should be more honest with you and Mr. Malfoy. I haven't been performing up to St. Mungo's' regulations. Truth be told, I've become overwhelmingly soft. I can't stand to see the patients' loved ones in pain anymore. But that shouldn't concern me. I have to be honest with you with all I know, so if you'll forgive me, I'd like to start now," Ms. Weasley had not moved one inch in her chair. Her back was straight and her hands resting on her thighs. She gave me a curt nod a small smile. And I took that as my sign.
I pulled my chair into my desk and folded my arms; I straightened my back, and plunged into the speech I should have given whilst in Mr. Malfoy's room. "Ms. Weasley, Mr. Malfoy's is a case we have seen many times before, with slight differences that makes this case so hard. When Mr. Malfoy was on, what we Healers assume to be, a camping trip, he was bitten by a snake. From the traces of venom Mr. Malfoy's blood, we have figured out precisely what snake it was. It is a rare, underground snake that attacks when it feels weight on top it. Mr. Malfoy may have been sitting or even casually walking along and this snake must have felt the presence of another being," I took a breath and Ms. Weasley's face remained calm, but her eyes were growing terrified. I couldn't stop to take in her reaction; that could wait for after. I needed to finish what I had started to say.
"The venom of this rare snake spreads very quickly. By this point it should inhabit three-fifths of Mr. Malfoy's body. We have the anecdote prepared. However, due to how far it spread in Mr. Malfoy's body, it is very potent. You must understand me when I say there can only be two outcomes if he chooses to take the potion. It could very well save him, and he'll be able to live a completely healthy and normal life," at this I saw Ms. Weasley's eye shine with hope. No, she must hear it all, "Or, the intensity could prove to be too strong for him and slowly kill him in a week's time," all the light was gone. Her eyes were still her regular color of brown, but they were dark, with no sign of life. But I still hadn't finished. I needed to push forth, to persevere as I did when training to become the Healer I am today.
"Ms. Weasley?" I asked tentatively. I knew this must have been a lot, way too quickly, but it was the only way i could get it all out. She nodded her head in recognition, but her face stayed calm and her eyes stayed lifeless. "Ms. Weasley there's one more thing. If you chose not to take this anecdote then Mr. Scorpius Malfoy will be dead in a week as it is."
I looked her full in the face now that I had said all that I needed to. I saw the light return to her eyes, and confusion written clearly upon her face.
"Wait ... Hold on," she started. Her voice was faint but clear, "You said that the venom already spread to three-fifths of Scorpius's body," I only nodded, not understanding what she was getting at. "Then why would it take a week for him to die if nothing was given to him?" I was still confused. It must have shown on my plump face, because she continued. "Healer Windwillow, you said this was fast traveling venom. If it already covered three-fifths of his body, why would it take a week to spread the remaining two-fifths?"
Ah! That was her question, "Well Ms. Weasley, like most things, the venom moves at a slower pace near its end. It has almost taken control of much of his body, impairing his reflexes and strength. All it has left to do is kill him, and that it will take its time and accomplish in a week, if we do not give him the anecdote. You must share all I've told you with Mr. Malfoy and come to a conclusion together. You can choose not to take the anecdote and spend the next week together; or you can risk taking the anecdote and either watch him make a full recovery or die in a week's time."
Ms. Weasley simply nodded and rose from her chair. I knew she had a lot to consider, but I needed to make sure she'd be alright. The lights in her eyes were gone and seeing them so lifeless, scared me. I rose as well I slowly walked with her to the cafeteria. She was as old as my youngest daughter and I needed to see to it that she ate. I watched as she walked around the large white room (we really should change up the colors) and stopped in front of the women selling pizza. She grabbed a slice and an orange in a bowl next to it. I followed closely behind as she walked throw the rows of families and came to a desolate table. She sat down and slowly nibbled at her pizza. I sat in seat across from her and simply watched as her face. It remained a calm mask that showed absolutely no emotion, her eyes remained dark, and I could only imagine what she must be going through.
"What if dear Mr. Malfoy had been my Christia? What if my beautiful wife was at the risk of dying? I would be a mess; Ms. Weasley is coping pretty well. She's being strong because she knows she must for her Scorpius. But me? Well I would have been in tears, hugging my love to no end. Some man I am! I suppose after all these years; all my girls have gotten to me. I've become too mushy!"
Ms. Weasley had finished her pizza, and had moved on to neatly pealing her orange. She slowly ate each slice and kept her head down and let her long red hair flow into a curtain over her face. After 15 minutes, she had finished eating everything on her foam tray and stood up to put it into the trash bin.
As we walked out the cafeteria and through the halls, my eyes stayed on hers. My surroundings weren't important, I just needed her to get some light back into those eyes, even if it was me who had rid them of it in the first place. We entered the elevator and I pushed the button. Maybe if I made her realize that Mr. Malfoy would worry more about her than himself, maybe then she'd wake up from this trance I put her into.
I turned from the white doors (we really needed color) of the elevator and looked into the eyes Ms. Rose Weasley. She just stared into mine and laid her back against the wall of the elevator.
"Ms. Weasley," I said, making sure she heard me, "I know this is a lot to process and I'm sorry I had tell you all that so quickly and all at once-," that seemed to have triggered her, Her eyes were filled oceans of sadness and her peaceful face looked grave, as she put on a small smile.
"Healer Windwillow, please don't feel bad," how could she think about my feelings while her world was being torn apart. This is one remarkable woman, "I asked you to tell it to me frankly, and I'm just glad you listened to me. Thank you for being 100 percent honest with me and not sugar-coating anything," She kept looking at me as I stood there staring back in confusion. How the bloody hell does this woman do it? How can she thank me for telling her, her beloved had a week to live?!
I couldn't say anything else. I just stared back at her sullen face, baffled by her strength. The elevator's doors opened and she walked out in front of me. I followed suite but couldn't stop staring at her back. I couldn't understand how she could even put a smile on that face after everything I so cruelly told her.
"No! I had to get a grip on myself. This woman was being strong. She wasn't breaking down like all the others. She kept her cool, and so must I. It's the proper, Healer, way. We almost reached the last room and I saw Ms. Weasley halt. Had the difficulty of the situation finally hit her?
No! She patted down her dress and brushed her hair. Her eyes seemed to be in memories of the past. She put a genuine smile on her face and continued walking. How on Earth this woman stays so collected, Merlin can only know. And what time has she traveled back to? What memory is she reliving that has helped her forget about the sadness or her present situation?"
I continued to walk to behind Ms. Weasley. Once we approached the door, she solidly put her hands to it and pushed. She entered the room to see Mr. Malfoy still asleep. I could see her smile fade for a moment and her eyes start to darken, but I couldn't let that happen.
"Ms. Weasley, there are so many memories to remember. Just focus on the happy ones and all three of us will make it out of this, just fine." I spoke to her back, but as I went to push the stool back next the bed, and motioned for her to sit down, I saw her eyes light up again and her smile reappear.
So maybe I wasn't so bad with handling this. She sat down and took his hand. I told her to call us when he woke up and as she nodded her head I exited the room. As I closed the door, I saw her lean her head on his bed fall asleep with him.
"We had all better be just fine, Merlin! If we're not, then none of us will ever be okay again. I'm too old for all the heartache that comes with this job. This is my last case; everything had bloody well be ok."