Whispers of a Raven by TheBlack'sResurgence

Chapter 18

Narcissa once again found herself working the night shift at St Mungo's for the next week or so. She didn't mind, but she would not get to see Harry much with him working at the castle during the day. The only real saving grace was that nights at the hospital had seemingly calmed down. According to Healer Camden, there had been no victims from pureblood attacks for weeks, though Narcissa would not allow such news to relax her completely. Things tended to happen at St Mungo's when they least expected it, something that was proven this very evening.

Her stint at the hospital had begun easily enough. She had completed her rounds, administered the medication to those under her care and waited for them to begin drifting off. She had barely finished taking her last notes when the alarm sounded, signifying that the hospital would be receiving a large influx of new patients.

"What's happened?" Narcissa asked Camden as they hurried towards the reception area.

"Your guess is as good as mine," the American replied. "My gold is on another attack."

Narcissa nodded soberly, mentally preparing herself to treat the scared and confused muggles.

Much to her surprise, however, the patients that arrived in various states of injury and trauma were magical folk, many upon them draped in the red robes of the auror force.

Where the hospital before had been rather serene, as far as such places went, it was now a flurry of activity with healers rushing here and there to help those in need as they moaned in pain; those that were capable anyway. Some were unconscious, unresponsive and severely injured. It was likely that quite a few would not make it to morning.

Nonetheless, Narcissa would do as she always did; she would treat her patients, tend to their wounds and hope that it was enough to see them through.

"Okay, I need you to take a deep breath and tell me what happened," she said to one of the grimacing aurors who was clutching at his bleeding shoulder.

It was a tactic she used to distract her patients whilst she carried out her work. It gave them something to focus on instead of the pain they were in. It proved to be simple and effective in this case as the man grit his teeth and endured her ministrations.

"Dark Lord…Hogsmeade," he ground out. "Attacked."

Narcissa swallowed deeply.

It appeared that the attacks had been shifted towards the magical population rather than the muggles.

"You have quite a severe burn from a searing curse and a deep gash in your shoulder," she explained. "I need to stop the bleeding, seal your wound and then we can treat the burn."

The auror nodded and took her by the wrist.

"You're the Black girl, aren't you? I remember you from his trial. Peverell's."

Narcissa frowned and nodded.

"He saved us," the man wheezed, grimacing once more. "Peverell, he was there. Fought the Dark Lord."

"Harry?" she whispered worriedly. "Is he…?"

"He's fine," the auror assured her. "Kicked his bloody arse."

Narcissa choked a sigh of relief.

"Is he hurt?" she whispered.