Author's Note:

I may not update tomorrow. I'm just really tired and need to figure out what to do next with this story. Consider dropping a review that isn't an ad for porn!

Pomona:

She quietly stepped into the Damages Betting party. Filius spotted her and stepped out of what sounded like a conversation about Quidditch.

"I wasn't expecting you," he said.

"Can't miss a party," she said weakly.

"I reserved your usual spot. The potions store room."

"Severus was livid that I have won three times."

"One of the highlights," he said with a smile.

The door crashed open. Poppy appeared.

"Minerva took a tumble down the stairs. Granger is with her. I mended the bones, but I need someone to go with her to St. Mungo's."

"If it is only broken bones, why not treat her here?" Horace asked.

Pomona glared at him along with a good chunk of the faculty. Anyone who had been paying half attention could see she had not been doing well for the last month.

"I need a female faculty member," Poppy said. "A lump on Minerva's right breast is hurting her horribly."

"It sounds like breast cancer," Clara said.

Poppy turned and faced her. "What is cancer? I've never heard of it."

"It's a muggle disease that starts in one organ and if not treated spreads to others until it kills the person."

Pomona had never heard Clara speak so concisely.

"You go with her," Poppy said. "The healers will need to know of this."

Clara raised her hands slightly. "I want to help of course, but she doesn't like me."

"She finds you irritating at times. There's a difference," Filius said.

"All wizarding hospitals have a muggle diseases expert. McGonagall should have a friend by her side."

"I'll go," Pomona said firmly.

"It may sound trivial, but Minerva wouldn't want the student's coursework to suffer because you're not around to manage the greenhouses," Filius said.

"Send an owl to Neville. I trust him enough to cover me for twenty-four hours. If not, I can be back by morning."

"We've wasted too much time on this," Poppy said. "Aurora, go get Minerva some clothes and her nightgown. Pomona, come with me."

They went to the entrance hall. Hermione was kneeling by Minerva with tears in her eyes.

"I can't lose another person," she said.

"You won't," Pomona said. "We're getting Minerva to St. Mungo's where she'll be made good as new."

"She keeps moaning about pain in her right breast," Hermione said. "Does she have cancer?"

There was that word again.

"We don't know what's going on," Poppy said. "Please go back to the Gryffindor common and tell no one of this. We don't want gossip spreading through the school right now."

Hermione looked like she wanted to argue but got up. She cast one last look at Minerva before leaving.

Pomona turned to Minerva. Her hair had fallen down and she looked incredibly pale. Poppy had bundled her in blankets. It broke her heart.

"Oh, dearie," she said and gently rubbed her face. Minerva moaned slightly in response.

Poppy swept the doors open. Aurora appeared with Minerva's carpet bag and handed it to her.

There was a black carriage waiting outside with St. Mungo's logo on it. They were being driven by a pair of Thestrals. Pomona was growing used to the sight of them.

A pair of healers in green robes stepped out. They moved Minerva's stretcher into the back of the carriage with their wands.

"I'm coming," Pomona said.

A healer gestured for her to follow her inside.

"Send an owl as soon as you know what is going on," Poppy called out.

Pomona stepped into what looked like a well-lit hospital room with shelves of potions and medical equipment. The healers were already at work when there was a slight bump when the carriage went air-born.

Pomona took a seat away from the healers. They were muttering spells and medical jargon to one another. She gasped when they exposed Minerva's right breast. Why couldn't that have been done once they reached the hospital? Minerva shouted in pain and tried to slap the healer away. One waved a wand to push her arms close to her. Pomona found herself silently crying over the indignities her friend was suffering.

Her mind drifted to three years ago. Minerva was alone that time. There were exams to supervise and Filius needed her. Watching her leave alone after taking four stun spells to the chest hurt so much.

The healers eventually covered her up, to Pomona's relief. One sat her up and the other pulled out a smoking orange potion.

"Slow sips," the healer said.

Minerva tilted her head to drink. She made a face. It must have tasted disgusting. They then laid her back down. The healers began taking notes.

Pomona thought about trying to ask Minerva if she wanted someone to contact her nephews. But she knew they had a massive falling-out after the stun spell incident. There would be time for that later.

There was a soft thud. The doors flew open and the healers moved Minerva out. One of them stopped to take Minerva's carpet bag.

"You can wait in the reception area," he said.

Pomona sighed. That meant they didn't know what floor they were going to place her on.

It was around midnight. The welcome witch didn't look too agitated so it must have been a light day. There were only about a dozen people there. Most looked half-asleep except the fellow knitting something using his nose. She drew a cushion and took a seat by a man with tentacles growing out of his face reading a Quibbler magazine. Pomona pulled a piece of parchment out and started reviewing her plants and what needed to be done to what. She had done this so many hundreds of times over the years, it was a soothing distraction.

Nonetheless, the hours crawled by. She remembered when her older son got in a skiing accident and the pole was caught in his eye socket. Nairne was blind in his left eye and wore a patch rather than get a glass eye because he thought they looked creepy. Someone told her those accidents had killed muggles which struck Pomona as unfair.

"Professor Sprout?"

Millicent Bulstrode was dressed in healer's robes with "provisional" written at the top of the crest. She looked like she was past her "ugly duckling phase" with her hair in a stylish yet work-appropriate updo and some of the doughiness of her face had firmed up.

"Yes, Miss. Bulstrode?" Pomona asked eager for an update about her friend.

Millicent took a step into her personal space. "You need to get McGonagall out of here."

"What?"

Millicent discreetly raised her hand to her nose.

"The healers have found an obscure curse to treat her for when it is clearly breast cancer. They're going to make her sicker."

"But this is St. Mungo's!" Pomona hissed.

"Witches and wizards don't get cancer. They don't believe it is possible. They'd rather try to treat it magically than seek out doctors."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Basil Lamont is throwing a party tonight. It will culminate in a dualling orgy that will get out of out of hand by two a.m. Sneak her out then."

Before Pomona could respond to any of that, Millicent quickly walked away.

Another healer strode up to Pomona. Her hair was silvery gray in a straight braid and her face was set in a severe stare.

"Ignore whatever that obstinate little witch told you," she said with a voice full of fire. "We know how to treat McGonagall it does NOT involve muggle medicine."

"Tell me about her condition," Pomona said evenly.

"Let's go into my office."

Pomona vanished her cushion and followed her.

They walked down a hall and then she opened a door. It was a small cramped office full of textbooks and clipboards. Her certifications hung on a wall behind her.

"I am Healer Delora Jewks," she said. "I am the lead healer of curses. I treated McGonagall, the first time she came here."

"What is going on?" Pomona asked simply.

"Professor McGonagall was one of the leaders of the Battle of Hogwarts. She was most likely exposed to several different hexes, spells, and curses without realizing it. We have isolated her condition to being associated with a hornet-like spell that causes massive welts like the bug."

"A bee spell," Pomona said incredulously.

"Walden Macnair liked to experiment with such spells. It is a reasonable assumption that it might have been his doing. Or even Severus Snape when he was dualling for his life against McGonagall."

"I highly doubt the latter," Pomona said tightly.

"We're positive we can treat it by removing the lump with a complex vanishing spell. Then we'll introduce potions to induce cell growth and healing. She should be back on her feet by the end of next week."

"But Minerva has been looking poorly for the last month. I have seen her try to eat more and Poppy Pomfrey has been giving her supplemental potions. I have also seen her look dizzy and out of breath at times. I'm no healer, but the symptoms don't add up in my mind."

"That is because while you are a gifted herbologist, you are not a healer, Professor Sprout," Jewks said. "A hornet-like spell can cause fatigue and flu-like symptoms. They are highly uncommon, but I do know how to treat them."

"You're certain it is not this muggle cancer thing?"

"Cancer only happens in muggles. I know all about cancer and have never once had to treat it in the last thirty years. Do you know what the treatment is? First, they cut it out, then they force their patients half-naked into a box and shoot a light called a laser onto the infected area. If that doesn't work, they give their patients medicine known as chemo that makes them even sicker and causes total hair loss everywhere. Imagine that happening to you dear friend. Now does the hornet spell treatment sound like a reasonable approach?"

The woman's gaze was set in a fierce scowl.

Pomona was no fool. She could tell when someone was trying to scare her into agreement. It was working on one level, but not as well as Jewks thought.

"When will you perform the procedure?" she asked.

"I'd like to do it myself. I intend to have McGonagall ready in two hours."

"When do you expect to see improvement?"

"By the end of today."

"Have you written to Pomfrey?"

"Yes. I believe she will agree with me if you want to compare notes with her."

"Can I see my friend now?"

"I assure you, Miss. Bulstrode does not know what she is talking about. Young people get ideas in their heads thinking they know everything simply because they just graduated."

"Oh, I know," Pomona said agreeably. "Neville Longbottom is trying to get me to try a new irrigation system for the greenhouses."

Jewks looked slightly relieved. "So, you do get it. I'll take you to your friend now."

They didn't speak as they climbed to the fourth floor. Jewks opened a door.

"You have twenty minutes," she said.

"Thank you."

"Thank you for not listening to that girl."

Pomona smiled in response.

Minerva's gown had been pulled open, but there was a cloth with a pearl-like texture covering her chest. Someone had straightened her hair out and she looked like she was resting more peacefully with her eyes closed.

"Oh Minerva, dear," she said softly. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

"I'm only two years older than you. You got a detention before I did."

Pomona gasped. "I didn't mean to wake you!"

"No one sleeps in hospitals even with potions and enchantments."

"You need to get me out of here," Minerva said and raised herself up slightly. "What that healer is proposing won't fix me according to Miss Bulstrode."

"Why do you believe her over the healer?"

"I know the spell she's trying to treat me for. Even with modifications, it wouldn't cause my symptoms."

"I'm not a schemer!" she said. "I can keep students safe, but I don't plot things beyond where to put my plants."

"Then go find our greatest schemers. This shouldn't be hard for them."

"Potter, Weasley, and Granger?" Pomona said incredulously.

"How hard can St. Mungo's be after Gringotts?"

"But where to take you?"

"Let the schemers work it out. I do believe Granger's parents are doctors who work with teeth. Now stay until after the procedure and then make up a greenhouse emergency to rush back to Hogwarts for and track down Granger."

"I'm not much of an actress."

"I've seen you panic over humming flowers sing out of tune, dear. Just summon the feeling from one of those memories and talk."

"Humming flowers are- I see your point," she said with a sigh. Pomona turned serious. "These muggle treatments do sound barbaric."

"Bad things happen for no reason sometimes," she said and stared at the ceiling. "No prophesy, no curse, or dark wizard. Just horrible luck."

"You sound like him more and more every day."

"What," she said turning to her.

"You're headmistress now. You've hardened and somehow softened at the same time. You're becoming even more like Dumbledore now."

Minerva looked moved. Her eyes grew moist as a small smile filled her face.

"No one ever gives you Hufflepuffs the credit owed to you."

"Never," she said with a smile. "Now try to get some get some rest to be ready to escape."

Minerva settled down and closed her eyes. Pomona left.

Jewks was waiting outside for her.

"That must have been a good visit," she said.

"Yes," Pomona. "Especially because I didn't remind her the only reason, she didn't get a detention before me was because it was Dumbledore who caught her sneaking into the library and Dumbledore has ALWAYS favored his Gryffindors."

Jewks smiled. "I'll have someone find you when the procedure is done."

Pomona went to see if the tea room was open yet. She smiled to herself. A Hufflepuff is not to be messed with.