The Girl Who Lived

Interferences

June 2nd, 1996.
Forty-two hours, two minutes, twenty seconds.
___________

The world was clearer than ever.

Her hearing wasn't dulled by drops of crusted blood, her vision wasn't obscured from hallucinations of dehydration, her hands no longer trembled so fiercely she could barely run them over the skirt of her dress.

Everything was clear for the first time in days.

"She's nearly healed?" There was a voice above her- a woman's voice. It was soft and concerned... caring, almost.

Elena couldn't open her eyes, not yet. She felt magic coursing through her veins but not magic she was used to.

Healing magic.

That meant- oh gods, there was someone healing her! Someone had sent a Healer and she- she was alive. She would live and there wasn't a doubt in her mind that now, she would have to go to Azkaban.

Another voice- another woman. "Yes. The injuries she's sustained... it is a damn miracle she survived this long with the amount of bleeding in her head and stomach."

Elena knew the Healer was right. It was a miracle she had even made it this long. But the only two concerns on her relaxed mind were: who had sent the Healer and who was holding her head in their hands?

The Healer's hands ran over her body, lightly grazing the marred skin on her stomach. She muttered small incantations under her breath, possibly healing spells. For a moment, the hands went away from her skin and Elena heard liquid sloshing.

Her body needed it: water.

"Love, open your mouth for a moment," The first woman's voice said softly. Her hands were as cold as ice as they stroked Elena's hair gently. Her hair- matted with blood and grim, was being lightly run through with gentle and loving fingers, all while separating it.

Elena complied and parted her lips as best she could. Slowly, liquid dribbled into her mouth. At first, her throat contracted roughly and it was difficult to swallow but with another coaxing murmur from the woman, Elena swallowed and the liquid coated her throat.

Water.

She drank greedily, as if the water would run out. It did run out after ten large gulps.

"There," The Healer said. Her hands finally subsided. "Her body will have to take time to recover, at least a week. She will be sore for some time, and there is a chance she may have long term side effects from the blasting curses. But if all goes well, she's due to recover."

Elena couldn't believe it. She would recover. Not die or be forgotten about down here... She would recover because someone had sent a Healer.

Perhaps she had been wrong all of those years ago. Perhaps there truly was a Saint or God watching over her. If it was true, they had the worst bloody timing.

Elena's eyes peeled open just an inch- the most she could force. The lanterns were clearly lit again, the light flooding through the grim cell. She was facing the ceiling, although there were two fuzzy figures above her.

The Healer, Elena had decided, was the one on the right. Her robes were pewter and stained with blood- Elena's, clearly. Only then did Elena feel the sharp pain in her side where she had dug out the shard of glass in the alley.

She moaned, her body twisting and trying to remove the pain but it was as if her elemental magic was in shackles. The hands in her hair stilled and then began moving faster to calm her down. Another pair of hands- the Healer's- held Elena's covered thighs.