Carry You Over To A New Morning
Days carried on as they usually did. He dismissed a slew of patients from the Spell Damage ward, including Elfrida who, much to her chagrin, had made a full recovery. Her departure, among that of the other patients, left a handful of empty beds, which were filled again just as easily with patients suffering from a wide variety of ailments.
Presently, he found himself tending to small William Weasley. He'd been wailing unfalteringly from the very moment Remus had arrived at his bed, and was refusing to elaborate on his injuries. Molly Weasley, who Remus knew quite well, was sat by his bedside, holding his hand. Charlie was stood beside her, pressed against her side, and her belly was swollen with pregnancy.
'I don't know what happened,' she told Remus, and there was tiredness and resignation in her voice, the circles under her eyes dark. She looked dead on her feet. Remus had half a mind to set her up in the bed next to Bill's and keep her there until she'd rested.
Remus nodded in acknowledgement and ordered his wand to perform the necessary diagnostic spells. It was really more of a formality; Remus suspected Bill's clavicle had fractured, because it looked disjointed from the rest of his body, sticking out slightly from the socket of his shoulder. The wand confirmed this suspicion, falling limply into his waiting hand once the spells were completed.
'Bill,' he said, softly, and the boy looked up at him, the shock of red hair nearly hiding his eyes from view. 'You're hurt, I understand. But I need you to show me your arm so I can heal you.'
Bill's lower lip was trembling, but he stopped fussing, allowing Remus to point his wand at his arm and sucking in a sharp breath when his clavicle lowered gently back into place with a snap, the bone healing and the joints and ligaments knitting themselves back together, sealing it neatly back in place. Molly was holding onto his hand, which looked tiny in hers.
'You're all set now,' said Remus, producing a bar of Honeydukes Finest out of his robes and handing it to Bill wordlessly. 'Be careful.'
He tucked into it gratefully. Molly smiled up at him beautifully; her fiery red hair woven into a neat plait on her shoulder, and Remus smiled back at her, and then rose from the bed.
'I'll write down some basic Healing Spells for you,' he said. She had risen at the same time he did and was now beaming at him, gratefully. He'd grown up with the Prewetts, although he knew Gideon and Fabian, who were closer to him in age, a lot better than Molly, who had been years ahead of him at Hogwarts. Still, he was fond of her, and her children.
'Thanks Remus,' she said. Charlie had fallen asleep, his face pressed against the cool wood of the chair. Bill was still eating the chocolate, but his eyes were drooping. 'Come to dinner sometime soon, will you?'
She took his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed back, and then pulled his hand away, concentrating on filling in the magical parchment and, then, on copying down some basic Healing Spells down for her on a spare piece he conjured up out of thin air.
'Take care now,' he said, to Bill, and then to Molly, who nodded gratefully.
No sooner had he made his way out of the ward, closing the door behind him, when his wand lit up, vibrating softly in his hand. 'Presence of all Healers required immediately at the Admissions Department, First Floor,' it said, in a clear voice.
'Noted,' he said, surprised, quickly making his way downstairs.
It turned out that the Head Healers of all departments had called in an emergency meeting because the Knight Bus had been in an accident, crashing quite spectacularly (if eyewitnesses were to be believed) into a boat somewhere in Cornwall, although there was still some confusion as to how this had happened. It was the first time the Knight Bus had ever been involved in an accident.
'The Ministry's already Obliviating witnesses,' said the Head Healer of Artefact Accidents, whom Remus didn't really like very much, importantly. 'Their estimates are that at least a hundred people have been injured. All Healers will be put on duty in my department, which has been increased to accommodate the victims. If you're dealing with a life threatening case in another department, see to that first. We don't know when they will be arriving, but my guess is soon. Be ready.'
Next to Remus, Alice was stood, her face white. Marlene, on the other side of him, looked grim.
All of a sudden, the walls of the room around them flashed a bright red in warning.
'Presence of all Healers required immediately on the Ground Floor,' came the calm voice Remus usually heard from his wand, which echoed from the very walls of the room itself.
Alice squeezed his hand.
The worst were the Muggle victims, who knew little of magic, and were not only hugely distrustful of all that was going on, but also in shock.
Remus had an awful time trying to tend to an elderly man, whose face was matted with blood, and whose left leg had been severed from his body. His right was only barely attached, and was currently lying at a disturbing angle. The man was barely conscious, his face a pasty white from blood loss. His wife – who would normally not be allowed to be in the hospital, but had somehow managed to get past the security measures – was clutching his arm tightly, and wasn't allowing Remus, or the assistant Healers stood behind him, near the bed.
'Get away,' she said, swiping at Remus with her handbag. 'You'll only make it worse!'
Remus was starting to lose his patience, and his voice became tight. 'Mrs Boscowe, I'm going to need you to step aside. If I don't tend to your husband's legs within the next three seconds, there's a good chance he'll never walk again.'
Her face twisted into an expression of fury. 'It's your fault he's like this in the first place! We were on holiday! Then your blasted bus appears out of thin air and explodes into the boat we're on! I want to go to a proper hospital, not this place!' she snarled.
'Mrs Boscowe,' said Remus, quietly. 'If you wish to refuse treatment, you're perfectly within your right to do so. I'll dismiss your husband immediately.'
A hopeful look crossed her face.
'I'd advise you to say your last goodbyes before you do, however,' said Remus, the magical parchment detailing Mr Boscowe's injuries zooming into hand. He didn't really recognise his voice, which was twisting into an ugly, pureblood thing, reminiscent of his grandfather. 'He'll be dead within the next two minutes.'
One of the assistant Healers behind him sucked in a breath. Remus ignored him, his face impassive as he looked at the woman. Mrs Boscowe's face registered only blank shock, and then she glanced at her husband, whose breathing had turned shallow and sickly. Her grip on his arm tightened, and she looked up at Remus.
'Fine,' she said, a snick in her tone that sounded like tears, and stepped away from the bed.
It took two brutal, bitter hours, but Mr Boscowe's legs were reattached and, after much prodding, revealed themselves to be fully functioning.
Remus was now telling his wife he would need to stay in hospital for a week to recover.
'Absolutely not,' she said, in a bitter voice laced with triumphant hatred Remus was surprised to find was aimed at him directly. 'I've already spoken to the Head Healer. I'm taking him home.'
'I strongly advise against this, Mrs Boscowe,' urged Remus. 'He'll be much safer in St Mungo's.'
'I don't want him anywhere near magic,' she hissed, and Remus remembered, suddenly, his father telling him that Acacia and Balfour Nott's eldest daughter had run away with a Muggle. It had caused quite a scandal back in the day. Remus, who had known Balfour Nott as a close friend of his grandfather's, privately thought she had done well to get away.
'And I especially don't want him anywhere near the likes of you, Lupin,' she finished.
She had known his grandfather as well, then.
'As you wish,' said Remus, bowing to her, shutting the curtains around the bed and moving to the next patient, who had suffered severe burns all over his chest.
The light that slanted through a tiny gap in the majestic, sashed cream-coloured curtains woke him up the next morning. It glittered over his face, catching his eyelids, which fluttered open. Remus pushed himself up on his forearms, blinking about him in a dazed way, for a moment confused about where he was. Then he spotted a photograph of Valerie's family on the bedside table, the shockingly clear turquoise water of the Mediterranean Sea sparkling in the background.
The last images of a dream were tugging at his mind – flashes of clear grey eyes and the smell of burnt skin – but they faded when he tried to grasp them. He couldn't quite remember much of yesterday. After his shift at St Mungo's, which lasted well into the early hours of the morning, he'd planned to sleep at the apartment he still shared with Marlene, but he'd been so tired, he had Apparated into the foyer of Valerie's flat, undressed, and had fallen into bed.
The soft, silk sheets were bunched around his body and it took some effort to extricate himself from them. The room smelled faintly of Valerie's expensive, rose-scented perfume, but she didn't respond when he called her name, meaning she'd left already. He shaved and dressed lazily, and then made his way into the kitchen. Valerie's apartment came with a staff that lovingly tended to her every need. He suspected she had house-elves, but he'd never asked, and she'd never told.
When he entered the room, the table was laid with breakfast: toast, boiled eggs (which Valerie preferred), sausages. An abandoned cup of coffee stood on the table, smoking slightly, and Remus found a hastily scribbled note leaning against it. The kettle on the stove was still warm and he grabbed it thoughtlessly, his eyes scanning the parchment, which was filled with Valerie's minuscule, neat handwriting.
He hissed the moment the searing hot metal came in contact with his skin, burning it instantly. He swore when he drew his hand back, the parchment fluttering, half-read, to the floor. He hastily patted his back pocket for his wand, only to find that it wasn't there.
His eyes widened as his hand throbbed resentfully. Where had it gone?
'A Healer losing their wand! Whatever next?'
The Healer – a tall, black-haired girl Remus had only spoken to a handful of times – had healed his burned hand without much effort, but had then launched into a lengthy lecture about his wand, which was nowhere to be found.
'Listen, Martin.' He held up a hand and she stopped talking, looking at him with narrowed eyes. 'Thank you for your assistance.'
She looked cross. 'Be sure to report your missing wand to the head of your department, Lupin.'
'I will,' said Remus. 'I'm just going to check my apartment one more time to see if it's there.'
Martin pursed her lips, but nodded to him, her dark skin only serving to highlight her round, brown eyes. She was quite pretty, in a way; Remus knew that Healer Rodgers fancied her immensely. Remus knew she was happily oblivious to the fact.
'Fine,' she said, dismissing him.
He left the hospital with a sort of wariness he hadn't felt in a while, wondering where on earth he'd put his wand. He'd never lost it before and he felt vulnerable without it, as if he would need it at any moment, and would be denied the opportunity due to his own stupidity. He had wondered for a brief moment whether Davina Boscowe had stolen it, but she'd left the hospital with her Muggle husband soon after their last meeting, after willingly allowing the Ministry to alter her husband's memory.
No other victims of the crash had been quite as upset at his bedside manner, and most had been grateful to have their injuries magically tended to. The hospital had dealt with the crash efficiently, and Remus expected many assistant-Healers would be promoted over the next few weeks for their quick thinking.
As he stepped through the glass display, exiting the hospital, he found himself coming face to face with Sirius Black, who was stood across from him, leant against the wall between two shops. He was dressed in a white shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. The summer breeze, hot and languid, blew his hair, which had grown to his shoulders, across his face, but he didn't seem to mind, swiping it out of his eyes lazily. A leather jacket was slung over his shoulders.
For a moment, Remus found he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself.
Sirius spotted him, held up a hand in greeting, and walked over to him.
'H'lo Lupin,' he said, grinning handsomely. 'Thought you might want this back.'
And he held up what was, unmistakably, Remus's cypress wand.
Author's Note: I wrote most of this chapter while on holiday in France, only to come home a few days ago, and rewrite the entire thing because it wasn't what I needed it to be. Silly, really.