𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

moonlight jade

“My bones are stained with sin,
scorched from fire,
broken by betrayals,
cold in loneliness and
soaked with blood,
and still we
keep on fighting.”

•

THE WALLS OF St Mungo's were blinding white as Skylar entered the hospital for the millionth time. Yet, everytime it felt like the first. She gripped Draco's arm as they walked through.

They had arrived into a crowded reception area where rows of witches and wizards sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and perusing out-of-date copies of Witch Weekly, others sporting gruesome disfigurements such as elephant trunks or extra hands sticking out of their chests. The room was scarcely less quiet than the street outside, for many of the patients were making very peculiar noises. A sweaty-faced witch in the center of the front row, who was fanning herself vigorously with a copy of the Daily Prophet, kept letting off a high-pitched  whistle as steam came pouring out of her mouth, and a grubby-looking warlock in the corner clanged like a bell every time he moved, and with each clang his head vibrated horribly, so that he had to seize himself by the ears and hold it steady.

Witches and wizards in lime-green robes were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards. Skylar noticed the emblem embroidered on their chests: a wand and  bone, crossed. "Are you sure you want to be one of them?"

"I'm sure," Draco rolled his eyes, before scanning the place to look for Harry Potter.

"Over here!" called Harry over the renewed clanging of the warlock in the corner, and they walked upto him to the queue in front of a plump blonde witch seated at a desk marked inquiries. The wall behind her was covered in notices and posters saying things like a clean cauldron keeps potions from becoming poisons and antidotes are anti-don’ts unless approved by a qualified healer.

Dilys was eyeing the three of them as though counting them; when Skylar caught her eye she gave a tiny wink, walked sideways out of her portrait, and vanished. Meanwhile, at the front of the queue, a young wizard was performing an odd on-the-spot jig and trying, in between yelps of pain, to explain his predicament to the witch behind the desk.

"It's these— ouch— shoes my brother gave me— ow— they're eating my— OUCH— feet— look at them, there must be some kind of— AARGH— jinx on them and I can't— AAAAARGH— get them off—" He hopped from one foot to the other as though dancing on hot coals.

"The shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?" said the blonde witch irritably, pointing at a large sign to the left of her desk. "You want Spell Damage, fourth floor. Just like it says on the floor guide. Next!"

Draco moved forward, and placing his hands into his pocket he said, "Severus Snape. Honestly, Magdalena, I come here everyday. You should just give me one of the visitor passes permanently."

The blond witch, despite her middle age, looked like she could throw her across the table to her boyfriend, so Skylar wrapped her arms around his, daring her to say out of the ordinary. The witch sobered up at the sight of Skylar's blazing golden eyes and leaned back—

"Severus Snape. . . Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn ward."

"Thank you," Skylar said curtly. "Come on."

They followed through the double doors and along the narrow corridor beyond, which was lined with more portraits of famous Healers and lit by crystal bubbles full of candles that floated up on the ceiling, looking like giant soapsuds. More witches and wizards in lime-green robes walked in and out of the doors they passed; a foul-smelling yellow gas wafted into the passageway as they passed one door, and every now and then they heard distant wailing. They climbed a flight of stairs and entered the "Creature-Induced Injuries" corridor, where the second door on the right bore the words "dangerous" Dai llewellyn ward: serious bites. Underneath this was a card in a brass holder on which had been handwritten Healer-in-Charge: Hippocrates Smethwyck, Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye.