Author's Note:
We can be meanest to the people we care about the most.
Someone, make my day and write a constructive review! Seeing nothing but white outside is starting to drive me a little crazy. Yes, I live in Buffalo, but I'm not used to snow completely obscuring my view of the outside world. I need to make sure my one elderly neighbor doesn't kill himself trying to shovel out while waiting for his plow service!
Minerva:
She was terrified and she couldn't hide it. She didn't know exactly what anesthesia was but it sounded like a drug that knocks a person unconscious. The nurses were cheerful as always, but she was too tired and scared to respond. This was becoming too much.
There was a knock on the door. A balding fellow of Asian ethnicity came in with a medical bag.
"I'm Doctor Eric Kim," he said. "I'm the anesthesiologist."
"Hello," she said politely.
"Dr. Willard said you seemed nervous about being put under. That is perfectly normal."
"Thank you."
He pulled out a mask. "I'm going to put this over your face and all you have to do is breathe deeply. This is usually connected to a tube. You won't feel a thing."
Kim handed it to her. "It's just simple plastic. Hold it your face. Feel it."
She shakily took the mask and placed it on her face. Holding the thing that was going to be covering her face, seemed to relax her.
"It's easier to face, once you have an understanding of the mechanics," he said with a nod. "The next time you see me, it will be in the operating room."
"Thank you," she said.
"Of course," he said.
Kim, she thought. She had taught a few Kims over the years. She knew it was a relatively common surname. There was probably no relation.
…
"You're going to be fine," Jane said as they wheeled her into the operating room.
The nurses hooked all sorts of medical equipment up to her. Minerva felt some panic setting in as she saw the weird machinery around her.
Dougal came into her view. A hundred different emotions rushed through her.
"All this stuff is here to monitor your vitals so in case something goes wrong, we can take care of it." His tone was reassuring.
Willard appeared in surgical scrubs and a mask. "Would you care to assist?"
"I'll watch," he said and faced her again. "It's going to be okay Professor McGonagall."
His formality almost hurt as much as her breast. She wasn't sure how much was cover for their connection.
Music drifted through the operating room. It was muggle music with guitars and singing.
"I hope you don't mind the Beatles," Willard said.
It was a distraction, so Minerva welcomed it.
Kim put the mouthpiece over her face.
"Deep breaths and count back from ten."
She counted to five and was under.
…
Gregory:
Minerva was sleeping peacefully in her room. The anesthesia would be wearing off in another half hour. She had looked so scared while they were setting things up. A woman who had most likely faced off against horrible dark wizards was afraid of muggle medical equipment. It hurt him.
Willard opened the door. He gestured with his head. Gregory followed him to the lab.
"You know how this goes," Willard said. "We'll have to wait for the results from the pathologist before we can start treatment."
"What do you think needs to happen?"
"I've never seen this exact combination of lymph node swelling and painful breast tumor occur simultaneously. We'll need to do some more testing but I am fairly certain an aggressive treatment plan is in order."
"Is it too early to give a survival probability?"
"The rest of her bloodwork looks exceptional. No cholesterol or blood sugar level problems. Her odds are good."
"But her age."
"You know better than I do cancer attacks indiscriminately. We've had younger patients with worse prognoses and vice versa. I'm not prepared to put anything to paper yet."
"I understand."
"Speaking of paperwork, I just want some assurance that that end is being handled. I don't want a delay in treatment because of a record snag."
"I have a friend who owes me who is taking care of everything."
"I trust you, and I know you care about McGonagall. But I can't lose my license over her."
"I am aware of the risks. I'll have you know the head of records keeping at NHS is easily bribable. He thinks she is the wife of a soviet acquaintance I am treating."
"With a Scottish name?"
"Like you, he knows better than to ask too many questions."
"Understood."
"What of the staff? Are there more questions?"
"Just some whining from the PAs about having to work from a different location. I promised things would be back to normal next week. There's some gossip about your connection to her because we don't treat many women. Emma and Jane clearly know there is more going on with her but are committed to taking care of her. It just seems odd that she has no blood relatives by her side in all of this."
"Sometimes we drive the people closest to us away, as a means of protecting them."
"I'm not even going to ask," Willard said.
There was a scream. Jane came rushing forward with Emma.
"There is a snake in the main supply closet!" Jane said.
"But it looked like a wolf to me," Emma said.
"What the Hell?" Willard said.
"Show me," Gregory said calmly.
They rushed to the closet. Gregory carefully opened it. A man with a greasy beard aimed a gun at him. He slammed it shut and waited. There was no shot fired.
"What did you see?" Willard asked.
"A ghost," he said.
"Let me," Willard said and opened the door. He carefully pulled it open. Seconds later, he slammed it shut. He turned and shoved Gregory to the wall. "I just saw my dead fiancé with her wrists slit. What the bloody Hell is going on?"
"Emma and Jane, get McGonagall," Gregory said calmly. "Tell her a shapeshifting monster is in our supply closet. She may need something from her bag."
Emma grabbed a wheelchair and they raced to her room around the corner.
Willard kept him pinned to the wall. The closet door rattled menacingly. A minute later McGonagall appeared holding her wand while in a wheelchair.
"Open the door," she said.
Willard let go of Gregory and opened the door.
Minerva stood up and waved her wand. There was a crackling sound. She fell back into the wheelchair.
Gregory swiftly stepped forward and grabbed her wand.
"I won't let you do any memory-wiping to my staff," he shouted. "We're risking our credentials and the lives of our other patients to treat you! Don't do anything to us!"
"Is there anyone else in the building?" Minerva asked in a measured voice.
"Only in the chemo center on the other side of the clinic," Willard said in the unkindest tone Gregory had ever heard him use with a patient.
"Then we can leave things as is," Minerva said. "I am a witch. I do not mean any harm to any of you. I will not wipe any minds. There is history between Dr. Caith and me that is personal and of no relevance to my treatment."
"We're treating a witch," Emma said as a smile filled her face. "Jane, we have the coolest job ever!"
"I fancy women," Jane gasped. "I know it is getting more common to admit this stuff out loud, but that is why I want my blood tested regularly. I'm sexually active. If you can keep my secret, I'll keep yours."
"I knew," Emma said. "But I didn't want to pry."
"I love this job," Jane said.
"Let's get out of the hallway before someone does come," Willard said.
"I'd like my wand back," Minerva said.
"Put it where it can't be seen," Gregory said and handed it to her.
They went into Minerva's room. The nurses settled her back into her bed.
"What exactly was that thing?" Willard asked.
"It's a shape-shifting monster that changes appearance to that which a person fears, called a bogart. It would have caused no physical harm."
"So what else is going to happen with you here? Are ghosts going to be a thing?" Willard asked angrily.
"Ghosts are wayward souls who feared death. This facility seems too new to have any."
"So, are there really ghosts in the Tower of London?" Emma asked.
"Most likely there are, though I have no personal experience," she turned her head to the nurses. "I know you two are delighted at this revelation, but I need you to keep your questioning to a minimum. I will not wipe your minds but if one of you is caught by the wrong person talking too much about magic, someone else might."
"Affirmative, lips are sealed," Jane said and drew her hand across her mouth.
"Just what are you a professor of?" Emma asked. "Do you really teach biology?"
"I am the headmistress of a magic school. I used to teach transfiguration. That is all I will say."
Emma and Jane exchanged a look of pure delight. They tried to look serious.
"Professor McGonagall, I will treat you as any other patient and provide optimal care," Willard said breathlessly. "I just need a minute."
Willard stepped out. Minerva put her wand in her bag. Gregory put the bag on a chair.
"Everyone is in agreement about secrets and magic?" Gregory asked.
Emma nodded. "We're fine here," Jane said. "Go check on him."
Gregory found Willard in his office. His face was in his hands.
"I always knew there'd be a line you'd cross in terms of asking too much of me," he said.
"Is it now?" Gregory asked. "I can make other arrangements."
Willard shook his head. "No. I see how much she means to you. I see how Emma and Jane care about her. It would be a violation of my oath to make her move."
Gregory took a seat. "You know love. Minerva was the kind of woman you spend the rest of your life looking for. I've known the love of other women, but none as sweet or as passionate as what I experienced with her."
Willard looked up.
"Do you see a future with her?"
"That ship sailed decades ago. There is no happily ever after together for us."
Willard shook his head. "Seeing Grace again was just too much. Magic is horrible."
"I do worry about more magical things showing up. Let's have her transferred home as soon as medically safe."
Willard took a deep breath. "We still need to have some tests run first. I'm going to be okay. I just need some air."
"I can discuss treatment with McGonagall. I'll have the emergency messages forwarded to me. I'll cover for you tonight."
"Thank you."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"It was kind of impressive how she handled that thing," Willard mused. "It had to have only been a few minutes since the anesthesia wore off. McGonagall waved her wand like it was nothing."
"Take the rest of the day off, Adam."
"I will," he said and gathered his things. "Tell McGonagall, I am committed to treating her. I just needed time to absorb the revelations."
"I think she will understand, Adam."
"Good."
Willard put on his coat and left. Gregory felt for the doctor. The revelation of magic was a shock to his system.
Gregory walked back to Minerva's room. The nurses were checking her vitals and taking notes.
"I'd like some privacy with Professor McGonagall. Dr. Willard is taking the rest of the day off. Emma and Jane go ask Dr. Townsend to cover this unit. Say Willard wasn't feeling well."
"Of course," Jane said.
The nurses left without another word.
"I'm so sorry my presence has caused so much trouble," Minerva said.
"Dr. Willard is a professional. He is more than capable of treating you. He just needs time to absorb the revelation. He saw something truly horrible from his past."
"I wouldn't wish it on any muggle."
"Two auxiliary glands were removed in addition to three tumors, one in the right and two in the left were removed. The tumor in the breast was removed and it was determined no reconstruction of the breast needed to be done as the procedure was minimally invasive. You have stitches in the areas of removal that will dissolve on their own. They should be healed in three days. Limit exercise for the next two weeks. We have sent samples of the tissue to the pathologist who will give a comprehensive report of the cancer in two weeks. Then we will set up a treatment plan that may include chemotherapy, radiation, or some combination of both. We're going to run imaging tests tomorrow. We plan to discharge you in the afternoon if there are no complications."
"Thank you," she said.
"Do you have any questions?"
"No. I trust you and your staff."
"I'm glad."
"I'm so sorry!" Minerva cried suddenly. "I saw how unhappy my parent's marriage was. My mother was a witch. She was forced to break off all contact with her family. When I developed magical talents, she told my father and their relationship was never the same. I couldn't do that to you!"
"Oh Minerva, you would follow rules even to forsake your own happiness."
"I could not give up magic for you! It is too big a part of me! I love you but I loved my right to practice magic equally!"
"You thought I was a narrow-minded farmer's boy," he said. "You thought I couldn't love anything beyond the acres of land my father owned. You didn't believe I was capable of loving a life beyond Caith!"
"I never thought you were stupid Dougal. There is nothing wrong with wanting simple things. I saw how happy my father's ministry made him."
"You didn't love me enough to break the rules. I kept the secret of magic in spite of you! I could have kept all your secrets. We could have raised beautiful magical children together. But you took that choice away from me. You only saw one way to practice magic and it didn't involve me."
"Rules exist for a reason! The witch trials were real! Muggles do not trust what they can't understand. My people would be hunted if too many knew."
"You couldn't think outside the lines. You trusted those guidelines more than your heart. You're brilliant but afraid of stepping out of line. I wonder what else or who else has been hurt by your rigid adherence to the rules."
"I have broken rules when the occasion has called for it! I can be lenient. Some students even think I'm fun at times."
"Yet you couldn't break them for the person you loved the most."
Minerva was weeping openly. "I thought you had died."
"You thought I couldn't be someone you could trust with your secrets. I forgave you, but the pain is still there."
"I can see that," she said. "What can I do to fix this?"
"Get better and move on," he said. "No more talk about the past. You're just another patient to me from here on. Goodnight, Professor McGonagall."
"Good night, Dr. Caith."
Gregory put a tissue box near her. He couldn't look at her. He made his way to the door and left.
Emma and Jane were at the nurse's station. Both looked angry.
"You forgot how voices travel when there aren't a lot of patients in this wing," Jane said.
"How much did you hear?" he asked.
"You were one decibel short of yelling at a crying CANCER patient," Emma said.
"It is a long story," he said. "She hurt me. She couldn't trust me to keep her secret."
"She is hurting right now," Emma said. "She needed compassion, not a lecture about a decision she made decades ago."
"This isn't like you Dr. Caith," Jane said. "You've never let the past cloud treatment before. If the rumors are true, some of our patients have even tried to kill you."
"She was the one who brought it up," he said through gritted teeth.
"A bully's defense if I've ever heard one," Emma said. "I'm leaving a note for Dr. Willard about this in the morning. We can't have you upsetting our patients over personal history. It's against our oaths."
Gregory knew his nurses were right. His judgment was impaired emotionally.
"Do what you need to do. I'll be in my office."
He walked away with the eyes of the nurses burning holes into his back.