Author's Note:
I didn't abandon this story. I just took a break. I know writing ten thousand words in a week is not sustainable for me. The snow has melted from my window, but I still wouldn't mind a review!
Minerva:
She wanted to go back to Hogwarts. That was her only thought. She didn't care how many more vials of blood had to be drawn or what other infernal machines they needed to subject her to. All she wanted was to return to Hogwarts.
Minerva told the nurses off right away. "Dr. Caith had his reasons for speaking so harshly to me. I will not hear of your gossip. Please simply treat me as any other patient and get me ready to leave as soon as possible."
The nurses abided by her wishes, even as she could tell tongues were being bit.
Next, she was put in a metal tube that she was told was going to take photos to see where the cancer spread. It was incredibly loud and she had to remain perfectly still. A tech put on some music by a person named Elvis that somehow made the experience worse.
She was eating a turkey sandwich for lunch when Willard stepped in. He nibbled at one of her crisps. His mood appeared lighter.
"I just want to run a couple of balance tests to make sure you're safe to go home," he said. "A Pomona Sprout will be here to pick you up. We ask that you limit your mobility for two weeks. We'll be in contact when we have a treatment plan ready for you."
"Thank you," she said.
"I've watched you today. We could have stuck you like a pincushion and you wouldn't have reacted. Emotions have a way of overwhelming the five senses to the point of numbness."
"I really would like to go home where things make more sense."
"I bet. I can see it in your eyes, Professor. You have known repeated emotional pain. It's hard to tell people about that sort of pain because you don't want to be a source of pity. It's not a sign of weakness to let people know you're hurting emotionally or physically."
"You speak like a doctor of the mind."
"We have those. Do they exist in your world?"
"We treat our mental pains with potions and spells."
"Doesn't sound healthy. We're required to take some psychology courses as part of our training. If you want to get healthy mentally, you need to acknowledge your pain in order to heal and find ways of living with it. Grief is not something we necessarily get over. I can loan you some books on the subject if you'd like."
"Do they cover heartbreak too?" she asked with her voice full of emotion.
"Of course. Grief takes many different forms. I am also giving you some books on what to expect physically and mentally during your battle with cancer."
"Why are you so kind to me? You looked so hurt yesterday."
"I sipped a single glass of scotch and remembered my loved one. What my loved one would have wanted was for me to see you had nothing to do with the monster in the closet. I can't be mad at you over things you had no control over."
"How very wise."
"I have told Dr. Caith to stay away today. I don't think it's good for either of you."
"I did hurt him."
"You don't strike me as someone who hurts others without at least a slightly noble reason. Regardless, his response was that of a spurned lover, not a medical professional."
"If you say so."
"I'll be back in a little bit. Finnish your lunch."
"Thank you again."
"It's my pleasure, Professor McGonagall."
He left. Minerva felt a lightness for the first time since her confrontation with Dougal. Maybe things might get better.
…
Standing felt easier. The pain was gone. Mentally and physically, a sense of courage grew in her. She was determined to prove she could return to Hogwarts.
After taking ten more steps un-aided, Willard nodded approvingly.
"I feel comfortable discharging you."
Minerva smiled broadly with gratitude.
The nurses helped her clean up.
"So, do you wear witch's hats?" Emma asked.
Minerva shot her a look.
"Sorry."
Jane adjusted her bra.
"How does that feel?"
"Better than before I came here."
"Good."
They help her put on robes. They were emerald green with a small checker pattern.
"I love the color," Emma said. "It's kind of fierce."
"I wish my friend had chosen something a little more subtle."
"Don't worry about it," Jane said. "We once had a guy come in wearing a string tie and cowboy boots. We've had many fellows come in wearing uniforms from every war. It can be like American Halloween here at times."
Emma looked like she wanted to ask about Halloween but closed her mouth right away.
Minerva put on her shoes. Each nurse held on to her as she stood up.
"Slow steps," Jane said.
It took a second for her to straighten up. With her pits no longer swelling and the pain in her breast now reduced to an itching sensation, she felt strong. Minerva took another step and felt at ease in her skin.
There was a knock on the door. Willard appeared with Pomona in a yellow paisley dress. Pomona rushed to hug her.
"Not so tightly," Minerva.
"Sorry, I've missed you so much," she said as she let go.
"It's only been three days."
"Three days too long!"
"I just need you to sign some release forms and you guys can scram," Willard said.
Willard handed her a clipboard. It was medical jargon about what to do if something goes wrong. It also covered privacy. She handed it back.
Willard brought out a cloth bag. "Reading materials for you."
"I'll take it," Pomona said and carried her carpet bag.
"Is your car far from here?" Willard asked. "We can provide a wheelchair."
"We'll be fine, thank you," Pomona said.
"We're going to miss you," Emma said. "We don't get women very often so this was fun."
"We'll be here the next time you come," Jane said. "You don't have to worry about a thing."
Minerva regarded them kindly. "You two have been exceptional. Thank you for everything."
They smiled in delight. She turned to Dr. Willard.
"As have you. You are a true shining example of the good found in your profession."
"I consider that a high compliment from you. Thank you."
"Do also send my thanks to Dr. Caith."
"Of course."
Hands were shaken. Pomona and Minerva made their way through the building. As they made their way to the waiting area, she saw a man in his twenties who looked positively skeletal with no hair on his pale head. That could be her future. She quickly followed Pomona out.
"How are we getting back?" she asked in a low voice.
"Portkey," Pomona said.
Pomona led her to an alleyway a block from the office park. She pulled out a plain black hat. They both held on to it.
"It should be ready in about five minutes. How are you feeling dearie?"
"Better honestly. The doctor and the nurses were exceptionally kind to me despite how little they knew about me."
"Thank heavens for that," Pomona said.
"What has been said about my absence to the students?"
"You have been sick and needed to see an outside specialist."
The hat started to turn blue. Pomona and Minerva were airborne. Minerva let out a gasp as she landed on the floor.
"Maybe Portkey wasn't the best choice," Poppy said.
Minerva stood up and hugged her friend.
"It's good to see you."
"You as well."
"I'll throw this stuff in your office," Pomona said.
"Thank you," Minerva called out as she left.
"Speaking of your office, I don't want you tumbling down any more stairs," she said and pulled a pair of thin silver chains with runes on them. "Put these around your ankles and they will allow you to glide up the stairs, with little effort and perfect balance."
"It's better than a wheelchair I suppose," Minerva said as she fastened the chains around her ankles.
"So how are you really?" Poppy asked.
"I can't entirely explain," she said. "There's too much that needs to be kept secret."
Poppy sighed. "I'm not surprised. Dealing with a doctor was going to be risky business. This is not something we can obliviate our way out of either because it could affect medical knowledge."
Minerva started to say something when the door burst open. A student with the nose of a rhino and another with insect eyes growing out of her forehead appeared.
"He started it," they shouted at once.
"We'll talk another time," Minerva said.
She resisted the urge to smile as she left the infirmary. It felt good to be home.