The Marauders: Year Six #Wattys2017

Never Can Tell What the Future Holds

Never Can Tell What the Future Holds

"Every other patient that was infected with this strain of Dragon Pox has died already."

James reached a hand out to hold his mum's, their chairs facing the mediwizard, who seemed too young to have studied long enough to know the answers to these things. James was fairly certain he recognized the face from the group of seventh year students that had been at Hogwarts when he first started, even.

This bloke's gotta be a Ravenclaw, he thought absently. Because thinking of that was easier than thinking of the things the mediwizard was saying.

"There were twelve others, beside Charlus; he was the first diagnosed, and the only one still living." The mediwizard stared between Dora and James, took a deep breath, and said, "While that is obviously good news, it also means that we don't have any research to help us in finding treatments or cure. What we have found thus far is that this particular strain of the disease is very resistant. None of our dousing potions have helped, the fumigation charm helped, but only for a short time."

"There must be somebody - some specialist - cost is not a factor..." Dora murmured, thinking she would unload every last galleon in the Potter vault at Gringott's to heal Charlus.

"Unfortunately, the only person to have ever worked with this strain of dragon pox happens to be the person who's believed to have infected him - the witch Druella Black, who was sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss last year. This strain was one of her specialties when she studied here, long ago. That's part of how they identified her as the attacker." The mediwizard looked apologetic.

James's fist tightened 'round the arm of the chair as his mum's tightened 'round his hand.

"What are you telling us, then?" Dora pleaded.

"There's nothing more we can do for him, besides perform the fumigation charm and remove the scales. We'll bump up his visits to monthly, rather than the every third-month we were doing and see how that goes. We may have to go to weekly, or even daily, eventually. But we'll monitor the growth of the scales. We'll need to make modifications to your home to accommodate for the new risks...

"Whatever it takes - cost is no factor..." Dora repeated. James nodded.

"Very well. I can put you in touch with a wizard who is very good at the dragon fire repelling spells - works for the Academy in Romania. He costs a pretty penny, but he can cast a repelling spell that will save your home from the danger of the dragon fire."

"Thank you," Dora whispered.

The mediwizard nodded, then said, "I recommend that you... enjoy your time as a family... while you can."

James stared very hard at his knees.

Dora nodded. "May we see him?"

"Yes," the mediwizard stood up. "Come, let's go."

They filed into the hall. The lights of St. Mungo's seemed too bright suddenly. And James felt like every mediwizard and witch in the ward was looking at him. There was no mistaking which patient he was here to see - he looked like his father's double. Some of them may even have been staring thinking he was his father, they looked that much alike. James pushed at his glasses with his fingers - they were the main difference between James and Charlus, those glases. HIs father wore round, wire ones, not the thick black frames that James preferred.

They stepped into the exam room, heard a light coughing from behind the curtain... and when they pulled it back, it was to find Charlus, asleep, and Sirius Black, dressed in a magenta mediwizard robe, kneeling there beside the bed.