Keeping on the outside
Glimmer in the moonlight
Only shadows there dwell we are
Creeping on the edge of the dark
We feel warmth in the cold corners
Eyes in the back of our heads
We roll out when the day′s over
Chasing silhouettes
When it all goes up in flames
When it all goes up in flames
When it all goes up in flames
When it all goes up in flames
We'll be the last ones standing
We′ll be the last ones
We'll be the last ones standing
- Up in Flames by Ruelle
As I hurried through the labyrinthine corridors of the hospital, I felt the echo of my hurried steps, accompanied by the nervous excitement and deep concern of my thoughts. Every step echoed in the narrow corridors, as if the walls were absorbing the whispers of the uncertain future. Suddenly, I practically collided with Asklepios, and in the moment I paused to collect myself, I felt his scrutinising gaze upon me, his face marked by worry and tension.
"Is everything alright? We've received a warning from Shacklebolt," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of panic, his gaze searching for signs of confirmation or denial in my eyes. "The Ministry is-"
"I know. They stormed the wedding," I replied, hurriedly searching for my lime green cloak to cover the noble robe.
"They did what?" he asked, shocked, his eyes widening in horror.
"I believe they were searching for Harry Potter," I explained, shaking my head in disbelief, the memory of the incident still fresh in my mind. "But I'm certain they won't find him. And now we must prepare for the possibility that St. Mungo's could be taken over at any moment."
"It's only a matter of time," he confirmed, but he appeared steadfast and unwavering. And I knew he would uphold the hospital with his life, fighting to care for all the injured who might fall victim to Voldemort.
It didn't take long for the first wedding guests to arrive, their faces marked by shock and confusion. But fortunately, no one was seriously injured; we were able to reverse all curse wounds and hexes.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting so long, Remus," I said gently, eyeing his hand.
"At least I get some exclusive treatment in this fancy private room," he chuckled, as my hand hovered over his enlarged one before I cast the spell to return it to normal size.
"I know I got off lightly," he said with a slightly ironic grin. "It takes more than that to properly get me."
In that moment, a wave of nausea hit me at the thought that he wouldn't have escaped the last attack if Severus hadn't saved him. I wondered if he would ever know just how narrowly he had escaped death.
"Is Tonks unharmed?" I asked, my throat dry, my thoughts returning to the others I loved who were also in danger. Was Severus safe?
"She's not an Auror for nothing," Remus replied with a proud nod, watching with relief as his hand regained its normal size.
Sighing, I settled down beside my last patient, a feeling of exhaustion and concern washing over me.
"Is Harry safe?" I whispered, leaning lightly against Remus, seeking the familiar comfort and assurance in his presence. The darkness of worries weighed heavily on my shoulders, yet in Remus's comforting presence, I sought a glimmer of hope.
"Arthur sent him a Patronus, letting him know that no one was seriously injured, but they're looking for him, and the Weasley family is undoubtedly being watched," Remus replied, his voice gentle. His hand enveloped mine, warm and reassuring, and for a moment, I felt safe, as if nothing evil could reach us.
"Don't be afraid, we'll get through it, Catherine."
"Or we'll go down in flames," I replied, a tremor in my voice as I felt the menace hovering over all of us. This fear of losing everyone I loved. The grim idea that everything we had could end in a firestorm of chaos and destruction gripped my heart like an icy claw.
But Remus looked at me, his eyes full of determination. "We have no choice but to fight and hope to survive."
We were silent for a few moments, letting the significance of what lay ahead of us wander through our minds. I immediately thought of Severus and wondered where he was. What he would have to do right now in the apparent service of the Dark Lord, who demanded almost inhuman things from his follower. The uncertainty of his fate gnawed at me like a poisonous thorn digging deep into my flesh.
As if Remus could read my worries in my face, he pulled me closer to him and put an arm around my torso. His closeness was like a shield against the impending darkness, and I leaned gratefully against him as I tried to escape my fears.
"You'll make it through this, Catherine. I always thought you were the stronger one," he said, trying to smile at me encouragingly, while I frowned skeptically.
"How did you come up with that?", I asked depressedly, my voice little more than a whisper in the silence of the sick room.
"I would have been lost without you. I know I wouldn't have made it," he said, closing his eyes briefly, drawn by a past memory that tormented him. "After the death of James, the apparent death of Peter, and alleged betrayal of Sirius. I was like a ghost, as if I had died with them." His words echoed from a time filled with pain and loss, which had marked us all.
Tears welled up from his eyes, and I felt my own pain mingle with his, like two rivers joining in an ocean of sorrow.
"I remember. How we've spent countless hours discussing why Sirius betrayed James and we haven't found a satisfying answer. But it was what distracted me from losing Lily. It was you, Remus," I said with a dry throat, constricted by the grief that came over me like a wave.
"We've been through a lot together, Catherine," Remus said thoughtfully, blinking the last tears out of his eyes. By now we knew the terrible truth about Peter and Sirius.
"Promise me we'll make it together this time again, Remus," I whispered.
"I'll do anything for that," he replied with a nod, before we fell back into a meaningful silence.
"You should go to Tonks, Remus," I said as I sensed the bustling activity of the hospital corridor once more, the sounds of the hospital pulsating in the air like a constant heartbeat. His body twitched briefly before he pulled away from me to straighten up, as if he were yielding to an invisible call beckoning him.
"She helped Molly clean up the aftermath of the chaos," he said, pulling his cloak around him. A smile flickered across my face at the thought that Tonks probably caused even more chaos than she cleaned up.
"Do you think everyone is aware by now that the Ministry has fallen?" I asked thoughtfully as Remus turned to leave. It was a thought that flashed through my head like an arrow.
"I don't know if he's going to take advantage of the uncertainty. There is no doubt that the Daily Prophet is now completely in his hands as well." Remus's voice sounded serious as he considered the possibility of a manipulated public, a world steeped in lies and deception.
"And if no one knows what really happened, no one will fight back." The words left my lips with a hint of bitterness as I realized the grim reality of our situation, the power of ignorance and silence that hovered over us all.
"We'll be some of the only ones," Remus replied, his face darkening at the thought that the Order had been robbed of important members.
"And the last ones who stand against it," I concluded, before Remus left in a depressed mood.
The hours passed in a whirlwind of activity and tension at St. Mungo's Hospital. As I tended to the injured and tried to suppress my own fears, the corridors were crowded with hastily whispering healers and nervous patients.
Suddenly, a desperate mother stood before me, her face streaked with tears. "Please, you must help my daughter! She was struck by a curse, and I don't know what to do! The curse department is completely overwhelmed."
I rushed to her, my professionalism overriding my own uncertainty. "Bring her here," I said calmly as I drew my wand, preparing to reverse any curse that had harmed my young patient.
"Where did that happen?" I asked sensitively, my gaze fixed on the crying girl's blisters. It was painful, but fortunately only a simple burning curse, a wound that could be healed.
"We were attacked when we were getting some things in Diagon Alley. I know it's uncertain times, but in broad daylight... they shouted that Muggle scum should disappear and never come back," the woman produced a handkerchief to dry her tears, which now ran down her cheeks. "I never thought my child... just because I married a Muggle..."
The mother was interrupted by the girl's crying, her hand now firmly clasped. It was a loving gesture of support amidst the despair, something that warmed my heart and cast my profession in a light of hope once more.
"Don't worry. We'll fix this, I'll put on an ointment to fix everything and you'll drink this in the meantime, it helps against your pain," I comforted the black-haired girl, whose brown face looked pale. But she nodded when I gave her the bitter potion.
She bravely choked it down, immediately relaxation spread across her features. The effect was quickly noticeable and visibly relieved the mother and child of their physical pain, which was all I could heal.
Meanwhile Asklepios entered the room, his gaze grave.
"Catherine, we have an urgent situation," he said, his voice low but determined.
I looked up at him, my eyes questioning. But his face spoke volumes.
"You should go home immediately. Stay there!" I told the mother, who looked at me anxiously, nodded and immediately hurried away with her daughter.
"What happened?" I asked, hurriedly packing up the bandages.
"We have received an anonymous message that he and his followers are going to raid the hospital. We have to prepare to defend," he declared, his voice firm but with a hint of apprehension.
My heart began to beat faster as I took in the seriousness of his words.
"We need to evacuate the injured and organize the defense of the hospital," I said firmly, my thoughts clearly focused on the challenge ahead. After all, we knew it was coming. The pressure of responsibility weighed heavily on my shoulders, but I was determined to do everything I could to protect the lives of our patients and colleagues.
Asklepios nodded in agreement. "We need to act quickly. They can show up here at any time."
"It's best to hide all colleagues of Muggle origin in the basement," I replied thoughtfully.
"But what if some of them are under the Imperius curse?" Asklepios asked. "Then they'll betray our secret hospital wing." His words permeated the room like an impending storm, and I felt the cold breath of danger on my skin.
"We'll have to take that risk. I've just seen what they've done to an innocent girl," I said firmly.
"How about sending them home? They could just take leave!" Asklepios suggested, shaking his head.
"There are too many of them, it will raise suspicions," I explained. "We have to tell them what awaits them under the new Ministry!"
"Many may flee and not return," Asklepios said, sounding troubled.
"That's their prerogative! No one should have to sacrifice themselves if they're not willing. But we only need a few healers to help in the secret hospital wing."
Reluctantly, Asklepios nodded. And together with the other Muggle-born healers of St. Mungo's Hospital, we prepared for the impending takeover. Asklepios' concern would prove true; many healers decided to go to their families and pause their profession out of fear of what might come. But the hearts of others were filled with courage, ready to fight for what was right.
"You should go down as well, Catherine," Asklepios said, as we secretly secured more important books and healing ingredients under the watchful eyes of the pure-blooded colleagues, smuggling them into the basement. His words were a final attempt to protect me from the looming danger, but I knew I couldn't deny my duty.
"I'll be where I belong, Asklepios," I said ambiguously, furrowing his brow. "Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters-"
"You told me you'd be here and not in active combat," he interrupted, his voice tense, and I painfully bit my lower lip.
"You know I'm in the Order. I can't make any promises. If it comes to the final battle, then-" But I didn't get to finish, as a loud commotion echoed through the halls of St. Mungo's, abruptly ending the time for discussions.
Asklepios paled, looking at me with widened eyes, before he grabbed me and pushed me into a closet with lime-green robes, magically locking the door. The closet was narrow and made of metal, but I could breathe through the ventilation slits and look outside. The tightness around me intensified the feeling of inner distress, while chaos ensued outside.
Asklepios had time to turn around and put on a relaxed expression before the door swung open and a familiar face entered. Rodolphus Lestrange came through the door and threw a large blond Death Eater into the room, whose face was contorted in pain.
"Here. Make him fit again," he said disgustedly before looking around intently. "What happened to this man?" Asklepios asked calmly and composedly. "What's with all the commotion in this hospital?"
"That's none of your business, Healer. Now do your job before I get unpleasant," Lestrange said spitefully, sitting down on a chair, his gaze a flaming expression of superiority.
I saw Asklepios briefly clench his fists, weighing his options in his mind, as I remained behind him in the closet, my heart racing with fear and worry. But he decided to follow the order and leaned over the visibly distressed Death Eater before raising his head in shock.
"Cruciatus?" he whispered, full of rejection, his eyes filled with disgust at the suffering before him.
"That happened because Rowle didn't carry out instructions. It could happen to you. Anytime," Lestrange said, slowly running his fingers over his wand while licking his lips, a sight that sent shivers down my spine.
As Asklepios leaned over his patient again, the door swung open once more, and Dolohov staggered into the room, his presence a cold breath of fear spreading through my core. I felt my heart speed up at the sight of him. It was fear, but also incredible anger. My hands balled into fists, I felt like I wanted to wrap them around his neck and strangle him with my bare hands. I bit my lower lip painfully to suppress my anger. I knew I would get a better opportunity for revenge, I just had to be patient. And yet it was harder for me than I thought possible.
"Better?" Lestrange asked, directing his question towards him.
"Yes," was the only thing that came out of his tightly pressed lips, his eyes full of suspicion and threat. "Is the healer the one who uttered the Master's name?"
Lestrange audibly took a breath. "I was just about to find out," he said threateningly, casting a dark look down at Asklepios, who had leaned over the frozen Death Eater.
"Was he alone in here?" Dolohov asked, beginning to search the room, which tensed Asklepios' body in anticipation.
"Apparently," Lestrange replied. "Hey, do you like talking to yourself?" he snapped at Asklepios.
"Occasionally, it can be helpful," Asklepios said tersely, reaching for a strengthening potion in the cabinet beside him.
"I feel like taking my frustration out on someone. Has anyone seen that Muggle-born healer?" Dolohov asked irritably, before standing by the window with his arms crossed.
"Which healer?" Lestrange asked, frowning, while Asklepios remained still in his movements.
"The one promised to me as prey. I feel like playing with her," Dolohov replied, before realizing that Asklepios had stopped treating.
"Keep going! Or else, there will be consequences," Dolohov snapped angrily.
"He has suffered quite a bit. It will take a while before he's back on his feet," explained Asklepios calmly but with authority.
"I'm still here, aren't I? So, get on with it!" Dolohov called contemptuously.
"Rowle was never cut from tough wood," Lestrange said, now visibly bored. "You'll only get to your prey when you've earned it."
"I've only failed once. Potter has escaped many times. But don't worry, next time I'll deliver him to the Dark Lord's feet. Personally," Dolohov replied grumpily.
My heart pounded against my chest as I waited for the moment of discovery. But I knew Harry Potter was safe. Voldemort had apparently tortured the two to punish them for his escape. At least the boy was safe. That was all that mattered.
Suddenly, Rowle began to convulse with a loud gasp.
"Didn't expect the Malfoy boy to do such a number on you, Rowle," Dolohov said mockingly.
I swallowed hard. So Voldemort had brought Draco Malfoy to torture another person. I hoped he hadn't done it willingly. Despicable. Unforgivable.
"Shut it, Dolohov!" Rowle groaned in pain as Asklepios reluctantly handed him a potion to counteract the effects of the torture curse. I knew all too well the effects of the Cruciatus, which Dolohov had cast on me months ago. Again and again.
I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself as images of my own torture flooded back.
"Now, lead us to the hospital director, Healer!" Lestrange called out, rising slowly. "We have something to tell him."
Asklepios calmly packed away the healing potions before rising slowly.
"This way," he gritted through clenched teeth before disappearing with the Death Eaters.
After a few moments, I tremblingly emerged from the closet. Apparition was not possible in St. Mungo's; it was under similar protection to Hogwarts. Therefore, I cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself before quietly and slowly opening the door. In that moment, I silently thanked Alastor Moody for his meticulousness in teaching me the spell, which had proven useful so many times before.
I crept along the walls, using the stairs instead of the elevator. To my surprise, the hospital seemed deserted. I made my way to the lower cellar areas, where three colleagues were already treating arriving patients with Muggle heritage. Unfortunately, we had to assign someone from our group to erase their memories to preserve the secret of our work.
After what felt like an eternity, Asklepios joined us. I was relieved to see him unharmed.
"Oswald Pritchard has probably been under the Imperius for months. As a half-blood, he'll likely continue to serve as hospital director. Long-term patients will be allowed to stay regardless of their blood status. But he has indeed forbidden the treatment of Muggle-born witches and wizards. All Muggle-born healers should be gathered. Unfortunately, it seems they have all fled St. Mungo's, and no harm has come to anyone," Asklepios reported to us, a relieved grin on his face. Then he turned to me quietly.
"Can you follow me for a moment, Catherine?" he asked softly. Surprised, I nodded, and we entered a small cellar room before he surprised me with a spell. I had no chance to resist and fell stiff against a pillar. I felt intense pain in my head, felt darkness fill my mind, enveloping me in silence.
When I came to, the entire room seemed to be spinning around me, throbbing pain hammering against my forehead. As I slowly opened my eyes, Asklepios looked at me with a concerned expression before I remembered who I owed this predicament to. I glanced around briefly to find that we were still alone in this small cellar room. Apparently, only minutes had passed.
I looked at him questioningly as he held a potion to my lips, whose scent I immediately recognized, but I turned my head away.
"Why?" I asked through my dry lips.
"Please forgive me. I had to make sure you weren't also under the Imperius," he replied apologetically.
"You don't think you would have noticed?" I asked, groaning in pain from the headache. I knew removing an Imperius was painful. It was the reason why Asklepios had put me into a kind of coma.
"They said something about a Muggle-born healer being under the Imperius of one of their members. They mentioned your name. They wanted to find you, Catherine," he said softly. I widened my eyes, trying to sit up under the dizziness in my head.
"I see," I growled, and now I reached for the strengthening potion that Asklepios still held out to me. As I drank hastily, I considered what to say to reassure Asklepios, yet any word would have endangered Severus. Severus.
I had to go to him, warn him that they might be onto us. I quickly got up, finding brief support from Asklepios, who reached out an arm to help me.
"Can you forgive me?" he asked softly, his gaze lowered like a naughty schoolboy.
"Of course. But I have to go now," I replied, reaching for my wand.
„May I know what you're planning?" he asked with an uncertain voice, a side of him I didn't usually see.
...You know, it changes you. This work. This war...
"It would needlessly endanger you," I said, looking at him firmly. "Don't worry about me, I'll take care of myself."
"I wish I could believe you," he replied, crestfallen.
"Then try asking me a question from our past next time to check if I'm under the Imperius or someone else. That way, I'll be sure," I tried to cheer him up, but his face remained impassive.
I stepped closer to him, smiling reassuringly before giving him a brief hug.
"Your festive cloak is here," he said, handing me the dark green fabric. As I exchanged it for the lime green cloak, I felt a certain heaviness in my inner pocket that I hadn't noticed before. When I reached in, I pulled out a small parcel, drawing a puzzled look from Asklepios. Yet, I immediately recognized the handwriting on it and smiled.
"A little gift for your birthday. I hope you use it willingly. S."
But I hesitated as I glanced at Asklepios, who understood the hint and bid farewell, not without casting a glance of remorse and bitterness towards me.
Hastily, I opened the golden paper with dark green silk ribbon as I saw the door close behind my friend.
A small round mirror fell into my hand. Curiously, I looked at it, but instead of my reflection, I only saw black fabric. Frowning, I turned it over in my hand, my thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and unease.
"Why are you giving me a mirror, Severus?" I asked softly, my voice a whisper in the silence surrounding me as I continued to stare at the black fabric, which slowly moved before light illuminated it, and to my surprise, Severus's face suddenly appeared on the mirror, his gaze mocking and penetrating.
"Have you finally figured out how it works?" his voice asked softly.
"Yes. I... was busy," I said softly, feeling an overwhelming joy seize my heart.
"Potter escaped. The Dark Lord was furious. But there were no serious injuries," he replied. "However, I wonder why Potter continually seeks out this danger. It would have been better for him to stay away from this major event."
And before I could further follow his discourse on Harry's recklessness, my own words of threat escaped my lips.
"Severus, they were here," I said, my voice a whisper of the danger surrounding us.
"Did my warning reach you?" Severus asked, his voice an echo of the concern that also resided in my heart.
"Did it come from you?" I asked, surprised.
"Who else would send you a message like that? Malfoy?" Severus retorted sarcastically, his words a whisper of disdain for those who opposed us.
"Dolohov was here."
"What? How could... he was badly injured. I didn't expect... forgive me, Catherine!" His voice sounded angry, but his eyes reflected fear - fear of losing me.
"There's nothing to forgive. Can we meet?" I asked. But my request was not only fueled by longing.
He glanced briefly away from the mirror, hesitating.
"Tonight. By the sea. I must stop," he said.
And then the mirror went black again.
A Two-Way Mirror. I knew they only worked with old magic, and there were hardly any left. I smiled, a touch of admiration for the rarity and usefulness of this gift on my lips.