Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin

Chapter 32: The Blackest Day (The Women)

The Leaky Cauldron
Diagon Alley
4:45 p.m.

Ted Tonks grimaced in pain as he flexed his wand hand and ruefully examined the vivid red scar that cut across it. It was an ugly burn mark that stretched from the base of his palm halfway up his fingers, a curse scar that would never fade. Nor, it seemed, would the pain it caused – pain that, according to the best Healers at St. Mungo's, would rob him of nearly 40% of the mobility in that hand. He could still use a wand for most spells that were OWL-level and below. He was still a wizard, and one exceptionally knowledgeable in the healing arts. But he would never again have the manual dexterity for the ultra-delicate healing spells that were a professional Healer's bread-and-butter.

Of course, all things considered, Ted had still gotten off easy. It had been Fiendfyre that caused his injuries, after all. As such, it was utterly miraculous that he'd gotten away with just a curse scar and a loss of manual dexterity in one hand – such an injury should have rotted his whole hand off within minutes of receiving it and then killed him painfully in less than a day. As far as the St. Mungo's curse specialists knew, only phoenix tears (and in extraordinary quantities) administered immediately after the injury could have saved his life, but there were no phoenixes around that day. Accordingly, his survival relatively unscathed was a topic of great interest to the St. Mungo's spell-damage specialists. And also, he suspected, to the Unspeakables.

Even then, he'd spent weeks in a healing coma at St. Mungo's, followed by several more weeks spent under close medical observation. He'd only been released a few days earlier to find that not only had his home and clinic been burnt to the ground, but the smoldering earth itself was also tainted by the Fiendfyre that had destroyed it. Wizards, for the most part, had nothing comparable to Muggle homeowner's insurance since they normally could simply use magic to repair even the worst damage in the blink of an eye. Apparently, however, that was not an option for Ted and his family, as the land upon which the Tonks Clinic stood was so contaminated by Dark Magic that the Ministry would not permit them to even try to rebuild for at least five years.

For the foreseeable future, the three Tonkses would be staying in a two-bedroom suite at the Leaky Cauldron, accommodations that had the benefit of being in London and thus close to St. Mungo's for outpatient therapy. But every day spent here was a day neither he nor Andromeda were practicing medicine, and Ted knew all-too-well that his and Andi's savings were limited. He would have to find work soon, some job that paid well (or as well as could be expected given his current disabilities). Just then, the door to their suite opened, and Andromeda Tonks herself entered bearing a furious expression and a crumpled copy of The Daily Prophet. Ted suspected the two were connected somehow.

"Oh hello, luv. Been out shopping?" he said amiably.

"Shopping?" she snapped. "Don't be ridiculous! We can't afford such extravagances!"

He nodded. "Yes, I was just thinking along those lines. I think I've basically completed as much of a recovery as can be expected, so perhaps we should take stock and decide what employment options are available to us. Perhaps hit up old Dewey Crenshaw at the Children's Wing of St. Mungo's?"

She scoffed. "Oh yes, I'm sure St. Mungo's would be thrilled to have us. A Muggleborn Healer and his wife, the sister of Bellatrix Lestrange, both of whom fostered the infamous outcast, Theo No-Name! And whose house was recently burned down with Fiendfyre in the middle of the first Death Eater attack in over a decade, one led by Sirius Black, another Death Eater member of our extended family! I'm sure new patients will be lining up for treatment!"

"Now, now, darling. I'm sure things aren't as bad as all that," he said before she whirled around on him in a fury and slammed the Prophet onto the table.