Adventures in Healing

J. K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter, and I thank her for sharing them. There is no attempt for profit in this, and it is done only for my own enjoyment.

A/N This story is dedicated to a muggle named Caity who started this plot bunny running. To those who are wondering about Ron Weasley as a healer please read my other story, "The Most Ancient Magic."

Adventures in Healing.

Ronald Weasley, healer-in-training, had never liked lectures. In his lifetime he had been lectured by some of the best, Molly Weasley, master of the "in-your-face, don’t-you-dare-put-another-toe-out-of-line school of lecturing. Hermione Granger, "scratch that Hermione Potter now", he thought, master of the guilt trip school of lecture. Minerva McGonagall, well, three seconds of "that look" and a thirty minute lecture was implied and you felt just as small and foolish as if she had actually said something. Severus Snape, "well scratch that too, Snape never lectured he just pontificated then he deducted points or pronounced detentions". He thought he had experienced them all.

That was before he encountered Master Healer Marcus Galen. Healer Galen had the annoying talent of speaking with just the right tone of disappointment in his voice. Rather than experience that tone of voice you would rather he just beat you to within an inch of your life; it would have hurt a lot less.

"As I was saying, Healer Weasley, your trauma rotation was well done. Your medical knowledge and technical expertise are exceptional. It is in the area of your interactions with your patients that you show some regrettable weakness. I must say that you display a surprising lack of sensitivity and tact sometimes.

"I realize that your clinical rotation lacks the glamour of emergency medicine but most of your career will be spent helping patients who do not have sudden trauma. I believe it was your wish to demonstrate that you could control the situation and you wanted your patient to believe you could help her. But really…"

Galen ran his hand through his hair while he pondered what to say next. "Menarche can be a difficult time for a young woman, she is being evicted from childhood, and must take on the responsibilities of womanhood. She knows the changes of puberty are coming fast and she may find this alarming. Her body image is important and she doesn’t want to be considered different from her peers. Menstruation carries a set of discomforts; aches, fluid retention, hormonal changes, and the cramping that comes from the uterus preparing to exercise its function in the creation of new life.

"At the same time she is growing, maturing and preparing to take her place as a woman in our society. She will be accepting responsibility and gaining new freedom. Her powers and gifts will also blossom. It is your job to help her see that becoming a woman is something wonderful, something to be celebrated, in spite of its attendant change and unfortunate pain.

"You came across as considering her condition as something trivial, something to be treated, as a problem rather than a natural process of life. I know it is difficult to relate to a condition you will never experience, but honestly, Healer Weasley, did you have to say ‘it’s just the cramps’?"

Ron slumped in defeat. "I’m sorry Healer Galen. I have a sister and I remember something of what it was like for her. I just spoke without thinking, as you said I wanted to let her know that her condition wasn’t dangerous, not that it wasn’t of genuine concern or a source of real discomfort."

"Well, Weasley, next time I hope you will think before you speak." Galen turned to leave, "I was using Legilimancy in order to gauge her possible reaction. She finds you very attractive, I felt that she was considering the least painful way to break a bone so she could see you again. But after this she’d rather die than consult you on a female complaint."

That was Galen’s style, he would start with something positive, then crush you, drop you in a hole, and cover you with dirt. He would then pour a little water on your grave and hope something useful would grow from it.

"Did you tell her I was spoken for, Healer Galen?" Ron smiled, thinking of his fiancee, Luna Lovegood.

Galen shook his head and left Ron’s study/office, shutting the door behind him. All of the apprentice healers had an office where they could study and work on their casebooks. Ron began transcribing notes from the class’ morning rounds. If he hurried he might spend lunch with Luna before afternoon classes.

Just before he had finished someone knocked on his door, "Come!" he called.

Luna stuck her head into his office, "Hi, Ronald."

He was always amazed at how wonderful she looked in her lime-green robes. He thought they set off the color of her hair perfectly. His red hair just seemed to clash with everything except his black Hogwarts work robes or his scarlet Quidditch robes. He couldn’t help grinning in welcome.

"I brought you some lunch," she said, returning his grin. Luna entered carrying a tray with a bowl and a mug. "How’s your day going, Ron?" Ron sat up and took notice. He still remembered the night he had first kissed her, and the first time she had called him Ron. She usually started calling him Ron when she was feeling amorous.

Ron looked disgusted with himself. "Well, you heard what I said to that girl about her cramps? Galen fussed at me about my insensitivity. I just don’t know what I should have said."

"Well, Ron, It’s your apparent attitude about her pain that put her off, mainly your use of the word ‘just’. We know you didn’t mean anything by it. It sounded condescending is all. We also know that it is difficult to feel sympathetic about a pain you haven’t felt before. Don’t worry you’ll figure it out. Here, I made you some soup."

She held out a spoonful of the cream-style soup. Ron swallowed it, "Mmmm, that’s really good, Luna." Suddenly his lips and tongue felt like they were on fire. He began rapidly fanning his face.

"Too hot?" Luna asked, sounding distressed. "Here drink this, quick!"

She handed him a small glass and he slugged the liquid down. The thick, slimy liquid started down his throat. "What ever it was," he thought, "it sure cured the burn". Before he could do anything else Luna bent to kiss him.

It was then that he felt the squirming in his insides. He stood, breaking the kiss, as he felt his flesh began to bubble. Luna embraced him and gave him the kind of kiss that usually left him feeling like a star struck puddle of romantic mush.

He pushed her away, "Polyjuice Potion," he gasped. "Why?" He looked at the mirror mounted on the wall. Luna was there – twice!

"I’m trying to help, Ron," the original Luna said.

Ron/Luna groaned as something clenched deep within his lower abdomen. Holding his breath he sat down in his chair feeling like he was experiencing the worst charley horse ever.

"The Polyjuice had a little bit of me in it," she said sweetly. However Ron noticed something a little different in her eyes, a light that was not so sweet. She noted it in his expression, "Don’t worry Ron we’ve swapped more spit snogging. I promise."

Ron/Luna was feeling slightly sick and looked it.

"Oh, Ron, don’t be so squeamish, I was joking. I had a few split ends and I used them, silly."

"Thanks," Ron/Luna grunted as another spasm pulsed through his abdomen. "Ooohhh, that hurts."

"Yes, I know. I’m on my period, too. Don’t worry it’s just "the cramps," she said as she leaned forward and placed a small plastic-wrapped package in his hand. "I don’t know if this will stick in your boxers, but it couldn’t hurt. Welcome to my world." Luna rose and walked to the door. "I hope you understand now," she said as she shut the door behind her. A moment later she stuck her head back in, "The pepper was in the spoon. The soup is ok. See you for supper, my love," she said with a wink, then she was gone.

Healer-in-training Ron Weasley reached for his wand and books. He had an hour to practice his muscle relaxing charms. He thought again about the expression he had seen in Luna’s eyes. Suddenly, he suspected his gynecology rotation wasn’t going to be as much fun as he had thought.

Adventures in Healing: Detachment

All things Harry Potter belong to J K Rowling and her publishers. This story is done purely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of any one reading this. There is no attempt to make any profit. Thanks to Rowling for letting me play with her characters.

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Apprentice Healer Ron Weasley ran his fingers through his red hair. As he slowly counted to ten he absentmindedly fingered the queue at the back of his neck. He wasn’t consciously trying to copy his older brother Bill, but he hadn’t really had time to get his hair cut properly. He hadn’t even been home for nearly two months. Learning healing in the middle of a war guaranteed a lot of practice. He was grateful to his fiancée, Luna Lovegood for teaching him how to do a pigtail. He allowed his mind to dwell on his beloved for only a few moments before returning to this morning’s source of frustration.

His latest patient was a solemn little waif with curly, brown hair. Her blue eyes were bright with fever. She appeared to be about seven and her name was Calley Grady. She was perched on Ron’s examining table with her feet gently swinging in and out. Calley had dark circles under her eyes and to her credit she could have been cross but she wasn’t. However, her calm demeanor belied a stubborn streak nearly a mile wide. Her mother had brought her and her sister in to St. Mungo’s. Calley’s baby sister was being seen by another healer and Ron had been left to care for Calley.

“Your throat hurts, doesn’t it?” he tried again.

She nodded yes.

“You want it to stop, right?”

She continued her slow nod.

“You’re going to open your mouth so I can look at your throat. Aren’t you?”

Instantly the slow nod turned into a vigorous shake. Her answer was a most unequivocal if non-verbal, “NO!”

Desperately Ron tried to reason with his nemesis, “I need to see what is wrong so I know what to do to make your throat stop hurting, Calley. Why won’t you let me look?”

Calley began to speak. Ron struggled to hear because she was whispering through clenched teeth. “The last time my throat hurt they made me drink something really nasty. I’d rather be sick.”

Before Ron could put his spoonful of sugar offense into action he was interrupted by a soft knock on the examining room door. He crossed to the door and opened it a little. To his surprise Luna was standing in the hall. “May I come in, Healer Weasley?” she smiled.

Ron opened the door, “Come in Healer Lovegood. May I introduce my patient, Calley Grady?”

Luna’s soft, oddly protuberant, blue eyes filled with kindness as she smiled at the little witch. She took in the blue and bronze scarf Calley was wearing. “Well, eaglet, what seems to be the problem today?”

Calley’s eyes widened in surprise, “You were in Ravenclaw?” Ron was staring too.

“Yes, Calley, when I was at Hogwarts.” She looked at Ron, “We have always called our first years eaglets,” she explained. Ron nodded his understanding.

“My throat hurts,” she complained. “But the last time the potion they made me drink was really nasty.”

“Well, sometimes it takes a nasty potion to kill nasty germs. Right?” Calley nodded agreeing with Luna’s reasoning. “Of course, if you think the potion to kill germs tastes bad the one we have to use to kill the Squamous Khoreslaks tastes even worse. Fortunately the only people who have to worry about Squamous Khoreslaks are the ones who eat Brussels sprouts. You don’t eat Brussels sprouts, do you?”

“I like Brussels sprouts.” Calley whispered. “We had them for dinner last Monday.”

Ron’s mouth dropped open in surprised wonder; he had never met anyone who liked Brussels sprouts before. Calley was looking back and forth between Luna and Ron. Misunderstanding Ron’s look of surprise her expression became one of alarm. “Why don’t you let Healer Weasley look just to make sure?”

Ron placed his hand on her forehead; his touch informed him that Calley did indeed have a fever. Calley opened her mouth and Ron used his wand light to examine her throat. “Two tonsils, slightly inflamed, several white spots, undoubtedly streptococcus, one uvula, and … no … Squamous Khoreslaks,” he smiled. “Thank you, eaglet.”

Ron reached up on the shelf, pulled a bottle down, and added some powder to the potion. He then poured some of the liquid into a drinking glass. “This powder will keep the potion from tasting so bad. My teacher at Hogwarts, Madam Pomfrey, showed me.”

“Were you in Ravenclaw too?” Calley asked.

“No, eaglet, I was in Gryffindor.”

“I wanna be in Ravenclaw, that’s where all the smart people go,” declared Calley. She drank the potion and looked at Ron in surprise. “That wasn’t very bad. I hope I don’t get sick again, but if I do I wanna come see you. You’re funny.”

“And you’re really a demon in disguise,” thought Ron. His thoughts were interrupted by another knock. He opened the door to find a wizard standing there. “I’m Calley’s father, is she all right?”

“Come in Mr. Grady. Yes, she will be fine in a few days.” Ron gave Mr. Grady the bottle. “Just give her two tablespoons of this each day for a week. Make her rest and drink plenty of fluids. I buffered the standard potion so it won’t taste too bad and as a side effect it should make her drowsy.”

Grady picked his daughter up and she nestled against his shoulder. “Tell the Healers ‘bye, and thank you, Calley.”

“Bye,” she said sleepily. She rose up and said, “There’s no such thing as Skamus Klorskaks, is there?”

Luna caressed Calley’s soft hair as she smiled, “No, sweetie, but because you thought there were you let us look, and that is what we needed to do to help you get well again. If you will be truthful with us, like telling us you don’t want to take a nasty tasting potion, then we won’t have to trick you into letting us help. Usually there is something we can do to help, but we don’t know unless you talk to us. Okay?”

“’kay,” Calley said as she settled against her father’s shoulder. A few moments later she was asleep. Her father thanked them as well and then he left Ron’s office/examining room.

After they were gone Ron sterilized the examining table with a wave of his wand and checked the ready use potions he had stored on the shelf. Satisfied he had the potions he needed he leaned up against the table and drew Luna to his side.

“Thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome,” Luna smiled.

“How did you know about the Brussels sprouts?”

“I had the chance to talk to her mother. It was tough on her having to leave Calley here while she stayed with Calley’s baby sister.”

Ron sighed, “Sometimes this is all so hard. I couldn’t even get her to open her mouth.”

“It is a shame she wasn’t about six years older, my Gryffindor stud-muffin. Those killer baby-blues and that manly chin with that sweet little cleft would have charmed her in a heartbeat.” Luna gently stroked his cheek and chin. “You’re just going to have to change you tactics for the pre-pubescent set.”

“Stud-muffin?” he asked incredulously.

Luna looked slightly confused. “No one has ever called you that before?”

“No.”

“I heard a Muggle girl call her boyfriend that when I was out on my walk the other day. I was sure everyone used it.” Luna laid her head against Ron’s chest listening to his heart.

Suddenly a magically amplified voice spoke. The voice was soft and well modulated but it commanded instant attention. “All Healers, All Healers, this is an emergency. Proceed at once to Central Receiving. There has been an attack. There are incoming casualties. All Healers proceed at once to Central Receiving.”

Luna stepped back from Ron. He was watching as she slid into the dreamy detachment that he knew so well from their days at Hogwarts. He wished once again that he could detach himself like she could. Even though she appeared unfocused he knew her mind was marshalling all its resources to meet this latest situation. She would be able to perform the most difficult procedures without allowing herself to be overcome by all the emotional storms swirling around her. Together they set off to meet the latest havoc unleashed by Voldemort.

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Central Receiving was a mass of organized chaos. The war had taught the healers many things about how to manage care for many wounded and injured all arriving at the same time. The Healers-in-Training acted to separate the injured into groups based on the type of care each person needed. They then took care of the least injured and tried to assist the Apprentice Healers as they could. The Apprentice Healers took the more seriously injured and began to help them as quickly as possible. The Healers took over from the Apprentices if they needed help or took the most seriously injured straightaway. The Master Healers supervised, circulating through all levels, giving instruction as needed or taking over when a healer was unable to help his/her patient.

As Apprentice Healers, Ron and Luna separated upon entering the receiving area. Ron was looking around when his arm was grabbed from behind. “Healer Wealsey! Come quick. I have a patient here … the burns are quite extensive.” The young Healer-in-Training, Temple, by name looked sick. She was pale and sweating.

“What happened?”

Temple recounted the report telling Ron the circumstances and the mechanism of injury, “She’s an Auror, the Death Eaters attacked some kind of conference. One of them tried killing some of the people by blowing up a Muggle car. She shielded the dignitaries but was caught by the fireball. I—I’ve never seen burns like…”

Ron stepped into the small treatment room. The emergency treatment rooms had only minimal furnishings; all supplies were drawn from a central area. All that was in this room was a small table in the corner. On the table was a small bag with the patient’s wand in it. In his hurry to help Ron forgot what he knew he must find. His nose was assailed by the overpowering odor of gasoline, the sharp, charred stink of burned hair, and the sickly odor of partially cooked flesh. Gagging, he beat a hasty retreat into the fresh air. He cast a modified bubble charm over his mouth and nose, did the same for the trainee, and they re-entered together.

The figure before him was indeed badly burned. In order to allow ease of treatment the body was being buoyed by a Hover Charm. All the hair was gone and the face and arms were beginning to swell. The face was unrecognizable. Some of the skin was hanging in strips from her back and legs. Though his patient was unconscious she was shivering. Ron sent his assistant to get some drapes and while he waited for her to return he vanished the rest of his patients clothing. He was glad that she was wearing sensible fabrics that had protected her body in some areas and had not melted as some fabrics did.

He knew that his first concern was making sure that she could breathe. “Sonorus,” he incanted, then he placed the tip of his wand against her throat and over her lungs as he listened to the way her breath sounded. Her airway had been damaged by the heat and fumes so he gently tipped her head back and performed a shrinking charm on the membranes of her airway. It was delicate work and his assistant was back by the time he finished.

Because she was unconscious Ron checked her nerves by stimulating the various nerve centers. If she had been conscious the pain would have been excruciating and he was glad all it made her do was twitch. He was relieved to see that there was no major nerve damage.

Together they covered their patient and Ron considered what to do next. With a wave of his wand he rolled their patient over and he examined the burns on her back. The deepest burns were across her shoulder blades. The lower lumbar region of her back and buttocks were uninjured, protected by her clothing. Her thighs down to the back of her knees weren’t too badly burned. Her calves were the second worst areas. Her hands were badly swollen now and he thought he saw a gleam of gold on her ring finger. He needed to remove the ring to keep it from interfering with blood flow.

“Engorgio,” he commanded. He caught the heavy ring as it dropped into his hand. With equal suddenness his heart seemed to stop. The strength left his knees as he sank to the floor. The memories flashed through his mind. He was giving this ring to Harry. “I take you Hermione Granger to be my wife … with this ring I thee wed.” He remembered the power and light of the nimbus. The gold ring with its inlayed sapphire band was unmistakable.

“HERMIONE!” he cried. Then he whispered, “Oh, God, no! Not Hermione!”

In a moment Master Healer Galen was in the room. “What …” he began but stopped when he saw the expression on Ron’s face.

“It’s Hermione Potter…one of—of my best friends,” Ron stuttered.

Galen crossed to Ron and gently helped him to his feet. He captured Ron’s eyes with his own. He dropped all formality in an effort to reach the young healer. “Ron, you knew it must happen sometime. That someone you know is going to need you to heal them. You must put aside your emotion and do what needs to be done.”

“But she’s in pain.”

“Yes, but that is not your doing, it is a natural consequence of her condition. She is relying on you to help her. If you don’t she may die.”

“But—but I’ll need to … to remove all the dead skin, it will … hurt her,” tears started in his eyes at the thought of causing her more pain. He could not say it but all the arguments they had had, the times he had made her cry, were flashing through his memory. He now regretted the times he had hurt her intentionally. It was irrational he knew but he wasn’t sure if he could hurt her anymore.

“Ron, If you don’t she will get gangrene, and then she surely will die. Do you want that?”

Ron looked helplessly at his teacher, “Couldn’t … someone … anyone else …”

“If there were anyone else, I would let you switch. But they are all too deeply involved with their own patients, for them to switch now might cause someone else to die. Ron, you are one of the best I’ve ever taught. Help her.”

Galen gazed at Ron. It seemed he was getting over the shock, trying to organize his thoughts, and remember the protocols. Galen was tempted to relieve Ron, but he knew that the young healer might lose confidence and quit the profession. He wanted more that anything to prevent what might lead to a life time of regret. He had seen it happen before. But he had to hurry, they were losing time.

“Ron, I know a little of your history with Mrs. Potter. I have heard you talk of the way she poured her life into yours, how she helped you study, how unselfishly she gave of her time to help you be here today. Is this how you are going to repay that effort, by running out on her when she needs you most?”

Anger flared in Ron’s eyes, it was almost as if Galen had slapped him. Galen smiled inwardly, anything was better than that self pitying expression Ron had been wearing before. “Go out. You have five minutes, and then I want you to come back in here and treat your patient.”

Ron stepped out of the treatment room. He was deeply envious of Luna. It wouldn’t have fazed her for a moment. He could see her setting immediately to work doing what had to be done, almost like a machine.

“What am I going to do?” he thought. Then he remembered a conversation he had with Hermione back in their fifth year. Harry had been acting so crazy back then. He and Hermione were talking about what to do about him.

“But, Hermione,” he was protesting. “He is just going to blow up at us again.”

“Some times you just have to do what is best even if you know it is going to be hard.” Hermione was saying. “My parents call it ‘tough love’, it maybe painful for all concerned. But it is really doing what is best for the object of your love. It won’t make it less hard, but if you know that you have done all you can, love will carry you through.” Then, as if to comfort him, he remembered what she had told him on that Boxing Day, “Ron, you’re going to be a wonderful healer. I just know it!” It was almost like he could feel her arms around him again.

He turned and went back inside. Galen was instructing Temple about how to get rid of the odor in the room. The Master Healer looked expectantly at him. “Yes?”

Ron looked at his assistant, “Would you please get the burn treatment paste? And we need lots of Dittany, it will prevent scarring.” The young girl looked at him for a moment and headed for the door. Ron grabbed her arm as she went past. “Please … bring gauze, we need lots of gauze. Healer Galen, will you assist me? I need to remove the burned dermis.” Galen nodded. It seemed Ron was preparing to “get back in the saddle” after a bad fall. While they were waiting for the assistant to return Ron placed the wedding ring into the small bag used to hold the patient’s possessions.

The charm used to remove the skin was a closely guarded medical secret. They all shuddered when they considered what might happen if that secret fell into the wrong hands. Ron first prepared Hermione by anesthetizing her, he carefully numbed each nerve center and then using wordless magic he debrided the burned skin. He was extremely shaky at first but as he went on he went faster. As he finished each section he compounded the Dittany with the burn paste and applied it liberally to Hermione’s burns. When he finished she looked like a freshly wrapped Egyptian mummy. The magic that he used was extremely draining. When he finished he leaned back against the wall and sank slowly to the floor.

When he looked up he found Luna smiling sweetly at him. He had been paying so much attention to attending Hermione he wasn’t sure at what point she had replaced Temple.

“I will alert the burn ward you’re coming; you may move her when you’re ready. Well done, Healer Weasley, well done,” complimented Galen as he left the room.

It was a crazy thought, but it was a means of coping with the horror he felt when he realized it was Hermione he was working on; seeing more of her body than he ever wanted to even in his most lustful moments. “No, Healer Galen, she was medium-rare, or medium at the worst. But thank you for the complement.”

Luna gathered the bag containing Hermione’s wand and wedding ring while Ron prepared to levitate Hermione to the burn ward. They completed preparing for the transport by covering her completely.

Opening the treatment room door they came face to face with Lupin, Tonks, and Shacklebolt. The tall Auror, looking over Ron and Luna saw how Hermione had been draped. He quickly took in Ron’s haggard expression and assumed the worst. “She’s not dead, she can’t be…”

Luna placed a comforting hand on his forearm. “No, Mr. Shacklebolt, Hermione will be fine. It will take a few weeks but eventually you won’t know she was even hurt.”

Remus shoulders slumped in relief, “Merlin, I’m glad. I don’t know how I would have told Harry. You would have been proud of her, Ron. She could have saved herself but she wouldn’t drop the shield, she protected those Muggles in spite of the cost to her.”

“Harry’s on his way, but it will be an hour or so before he gets here,” said Tonks.

Ron spoke up, “We’re going to take her to the burn ward. You can wait for Harry in the waiting room and he can see her after we get her set up in her room.

After getting Hermione to her room on the ward Luna began checking their patient again. They would need to monitor her closely for the next few hours to make sure that no injury had been missed. As she finished her exam Luna called Ron over, “look at this.”

Ron looked at Luna in surprise, “Oh, my …”

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The sound of Harry’s oaken staff heralded his approach. Ron and Luna looked grave as he entered the room. His movements were stiff and awkward still. His face was ashen with worry.

A hint of a memory flashed through Ron’s mind as he saw the staff again, but then it vanished. “Harry,” Ron began, “she’s going to be okay. You understand?”

Harry nodded. He reached for Hermione’s bandaged hand.

“No!” Ron commanded. “You know she was burned?” Harry jerked his hand back, he looked at them and shook his head.

Ron shook his head, “There’s no easy way to tell you this so bear with me, okay?” Harry nodded his head looking for all the world like a small child trying to cope with a world he didn’t understand. “Hermione was burned by an explosion. She has no skin on her hands, arms, shoulders, her head, lower legs, and some parts of her face. We are growing it back but it’s going to take about three days, okay? You may injure her if you touch her where she was burned. That’s why we will be levitating for the course of her treatment.”

“Okay,” Harry whispered.

“We are going to keep her asleep while that happens. I barked my knee quite badly a few months ago playing Quidditch and had to use the stuff we are using now, it itches like you wouldn’t believe. It’s better for her to sleep through it.

“Try re-growing an armful of bones,” Harry thought.

“After about three days we’ll remove the bandages. You’ve got to be sensitive to her feelings. It will take a few months before her hair all grows back. That’s because the skin she is re-growing will be undifferentiated and it will take a little while for the hair follicles to reform. I know Hermione has never been vain, but she will need your reassurance that she looks okay. I’d recommend you get her a hair piece until her hair grows back, unless she wants to sport that skin head thing some Muggles go for. Her skin will appear very red for about a month until her skin thickens, it will also be very sensitive to sunlight for about two months. I want you to reassure her that everything that is happening is normal. You will also want to get some soft cotton underclothes for her to wear and a hooded cloak for when she goes outside in the sunlight. Got all that?”

To his amazement Harry repeated all the instructions and the reasons for everything. Then to Ron’s eternal embarrassment Harry sank to his knees and with tears flowing down his face he said, “How can I ever thank you enough. How did you know, all those years ago how much we’d need you? God, if you hadn’t been there she might be dead…”

Luna knelt beside Harry and put an arm around his shoulders.

Ron’s face was the same color as his hair as he tried to think of what to say. At last he stuttered, “That’s okay, Dad, you’ll be g-g-getting my b-bill.”

Harry shook his head as he tried to figure out what Ron had said. Harry rose to his feet. He knew Ron had hated being poor all his life, but this was even more tactless than even he was used to. Something like anger was starting to overcome him, it just didn’t make sense for Ron to be this way.

“When we were commissioned as Aurors they told me that injuries in the line of duty would be covered by the Ministry.” His words were slow and carefully chosen.

Ron was working to keep his face impassive. “For the burns, yes. That is covered by contract with the Ministry, but if you’ll read the fine print you will find obstetrical care is not. Hermione will require several visits in the coming nine months.”

Harry turned pale once again, “ What’s obs—obstet …” he was almost whining in shock. “You said she was going to be okay,” he accused.

“Ronald,” Luna interrupted, “he’s too fuzzled to understand. Harry, obstetrics is the branch—,”

“Wait! Wait! Dad? Nine months?” Harry’s breathing was shallow and rapid. You mean Hermione is—,”

“Pregnant,” Ron finished with a grin.

“We’re gonna have—,”

“A baby,” Luna chimed in; she conjured a chair as Harry sat down hard.

“When?”

“She appears to be three or four weeks along, I’d bet she hasn’t missed a period yet. We’ll give you a due date in a few days after we have a chance to talk to her. Now I know you have a lot of things to tell her. I know she’s sedated but you’d be surprised at what people hear, it’s eerie, sometimes. We’ll be back in a little while. May we give your colleagues the happy news?” Ron smiled at his friend.

Harry nodded his assent as he moved the chair near Hermione’s head. He began talking to her, “One, did you hear? We did it; we’re going to have a baby! When I get home I’m going to owl John and Karen…”

Ron slipped his arm around Luna’s waist as they shut the door behind them. “I need to introduce him to Calley Grady, he might not be so excited,” Ron observed. Luna elbowed him in the side.

As they walked arm in arm to the waiting room Ron was thinking. “It’s alright for Luna to be like she is, that’s her way. I got into this because I love it. Sometimes, and only sometimes, love has got to be tough, just like Hermione said. Then, sometimes, you get to do what we just did and it makes it all worthwhile.”

Adventures in Healing

11:29 A.M.

All Harry Potter characters are the property of J. K. Rowling and her publishers. There is no profit being made from this story. It is being done solely for my enjoyment and the improvement of my typing skills. Thank you to Ms. Rowling for allowing me to use her creations.

　

11:29 A.M.

The universe changed at 11:29 A.M.

At 11:28 a.m. Hettie McAllaster was still a part of the human race. At 11: 30 A.M. she wasn’t. She was dead. She was dead because Luna Celeste Lovegood, Apprentice Healer, said so.

The class of apprentice healers had entered Hettie’s room as Luna, the healer in charge of her case, explained the details of the treatment she was receiving. That was the easy part because Hettie was in very good condition for a witch nearly one hundred and sixty years old.

Luna saw the other students look suddenly surprised at something behind her. She turned and saw that Hettie must have take a turn for the worse and was in bad shape. Her wrinkled visage had gone grey and her lips were turning blue. She rushed to her patient’s bedside and drew her wand as she prepared to perform the resuscitation protocol.

A gentle hand touched her wrist, “Are you sure you want to do that?” asked Master Healer Marcus Galen, her teacher.

“Yes, she’s not breathing.”

“To what purpose would you revive her? How long will you keep reviving her? You know that the spells provide diminishing returns for each casting. Are you going to keep on ‘til you must cast for each beat of her heart,” he asked gently?

“No … sir … but …”

“Death is ultimately a fact of life, Healer Lovegood.” Galen turned to face the class. “For homework, one roll of parchment discussing the Healer’s evaluation of resuscitation efforts in view of the patients life expectancy and quality of life, due by Friday.”

Galen’s gray eyes captured Luna’s suddenly misty silvery grey ones, “It is your decision, will you resuscitate or call it?”

Luna hesitated for a moment before answering, “No, there is no reason not to let her go.” Luna reached for Hettie’s chart. She read aloud as she inscribed, “Time of death, 11:29 A. M.” Luna then touched Hettie’s cheek one last time and gently covered the aged features with the sheet.

The class filed silently out of the room. At the door Galen stopped Luna, “Meet me at two thirty and I will help you fill out the death certificate. Go with the class and I will send for someone to take charge of Hettie’s body.”

During the rest of the rounds Luna was distracted; thoughts of what she had done conflicted with the notes she was attempting to take. “This is a case of injury caused by defective ear muffs when dealing with Mandrakes. The muffs were at least successful preventing death at eleven twenty nine A.M.”… “Dealing with Wolfsbane without gloves resulted in a mild case of Aconite poisoning fortunately there was little probability of death at eleven twenty nine A.M.”… “Time of death eleven twenty nine was prevented by the application to Galliplot’s law to the elixir that allowed…” “Time of Death…Time of Death…Time…” With shaking hands she struggled to take notes determined not to give up.

At last the round was finished. Galen dismissed the students for lunch reminding them of classes and assigning some to office time and others to clinical work before evening rounds. He held Luna back as the other student’s dispersed. “Is this your first patient death?”

“No, Healer Galen, only the first to die absent major trauma.” she said sadly.

“I see, you lost your mother when you were quite young, did you not?”

“Yes, Healer Galen. That is why I wanted to be a Healer, to help others not have to go through that, like I had to.”

“Now it seems ‘Death’ has beaten you again?” he asked quietly.

Luna seemed to shrink in on herself, unable to speak she merely nodded. Galen took hold of her shoulder in a gesture of consolation. “I know this will not resolve itself in a few days. Take comfort in that you did all that you could for your patient, even going beyond the call of your profession. I know you visited her each evening after rounds trying to ease her loneliness.”

“That is what I don’t understand, she was so sweet, so full of stories, why was she abandoned by her family?” Luna whispered.

“Of all of life’s questions, Healer Lovegood, ‘why’ is the one that goes most often without satisfactory resolution. Take an extended lunch break and go for a walk, meet with me around two thirty and we’ll fill out the paperwork together.” Luna turned and headed for the staff rooms, as she walked away Galen continued, “If you need to talk, Healer Lovegood, my door is always open to you.”

The walls of St. Mungo’s seemed to be closing in on Luna as she fled the staff room clutching her lunch. She desperately wanted to talk to her fiancé, Ron Weasley, but he was out of the hospital today training with the Aurors of the DMLE. The idea was to have Healers with the strike teams. Hettie’s room was empty with her body being removed to the morgue. The white emptiness seemed to accuse her of not doing more for her patient. No one heard her plaintive “Sorry, Mum, I’ve failed again,” or noticed her near frantic haste to flee the quiet witness of that indicting empty bed.

Luna Lovegood, like most of the staff had a place to go, not far from the hospital where she could be alone and free from the pressure of being a Healer. Her place was a small park four blocks from the hospital. There were a few trees growing around a small lake that reminded her of the Black Lake at Hogwarts. There were a few benches arranged around the area. It was a refuge for a few birds and squirrels. At lunch times there were usually a few people gathered in the park, but it wasn’t difficult for Luna to find an empty bench. She nibbled disinterestedly at her meal, not really hungry.

Weary with a tiredness that had nothing to do with her physical body she leaned back on the bench studying the patterns of red sunlight and black leafy shadows on the inside of her eyelids. Her mind relaxed partly keeping track of her heart rate, breathing, and the sensation of warm air currents stirring the tree branches over her.

The boards beneath her moved as someone sat down on the opposite side of the bench Luna opened her eyes to find a young working man was sitting there looking at her. He placed his hard hat between them and opened his lunch box. He appeared to be in his late thirties with longish brown hair, indented over his ears by the leather band in his helmet. His bright brown eyes smiled at her over a rather small nose covered in freckles. “Hello, pretty lady, do you mind if I sit here while I eat my lunch?”

Luna shook her head “no” but added, “I’m sorry but I doubt I will be good company today, I had a rather bad morning.”

“That’s okay. Oh, first things first, my name’s Redford, and is it Good Afternoon or just G’day? Nope ’G’day’ is Australian and this is England…I get confused sometimes. It’s the accent you know. That said I doubt your morning was worse than mine. You see that corner building? I found a poor little old lady dead there this morning. Been after her to move out for a fortnight now, got her notice months ago and just ignored it. Must have died in the night poor dear, still if she hadn’t died I’d have had to call the law. We’re demolishing the buildings and she couldn’t stay. Any ideas on why someone would hang on like that? I don’t understand it.”

“Fear,” Luna responded, “elderly people like being in familiar surroundings, it makes them feel safe.”

“Hmm,” clearly Redford wasn’t entirely convinced. “Maybe, but she’s seen no one for years. I checked, she had her groceries and medicine delivered and stayed in there with just an old wireless for company. Her husband died you see, nigh on thirty years ago, it’s like she buried him in the churchyard and herself in that apartment. Years ago, when she had friends, they all invited her to stay with them and she refused. Just hung on in that dismal, rundown old apartment. Good thing it was in the basement, else the floor would have fallen in by now.”

Luna wasn’t entirely comfortable with Redford, something just beyond her reach was trying to tell her something. Still, his words sparked the beginnings of an idea in her mind. “Probably she held on because it was all she had left of her husband…her family…when you told her she had to leave she…just…gave up.” Unaccountably, Luna began to feel a slight irritation with the construction worker, but she couldn’t keep the realization that Hettie might have been feeling the same things as this nameless old woman, even though Luna had tried to ease her loneliness. “Why couldn’t you just rebuild the apartment around her, so she could stay?” she accused.

Redford laughed, “Ah, well now, demolishing and rebuilding, that is something I know about. Twenty years ago we might have been able to do that, but with the brittleness of the current structure, creaky old hinges, the age of the wiring, plumbing, sub floors, not to mention that sagging façade, and all the neglect the buildings have suffered, the whole block is just too damaged. Sure, there are some materials that are salvageable, but the cost to shore up everything we’d have to just to save what little can be saved would cost more than the materials are worth. A modern refrigerator would fall through the floor, the current it would draw through those old wires would start a fire, if you repair one leak you’d only start one somewhere else in those old pipes. Sometimes the old has to be torn down to make way for the new. I imagine in a hundred years what I build here now will be torn down to make way for something else. Meanwhile families will come, shops will come, and the whole area will come to life again.”

“Still, I think you ought to build things to last,” Luna snarked, “turning little old ladies out of their homes just isn’t fair.”

“Well, there are some old buildings like that, you want to live in a pyramid in Egypt? The building has lasted but I think the amenities are sparse and the desert isn’t as hospitable as London here. Another thing, that woman over there chose to be alone, through the years she was offered friendship, she was offered new experiences, she was offered second chances, she refused them all to be lonely. Don‘t feel overly sorry for her, she was only miserable, if she even was miserable, it was because she chose to be. Her life didn‘t have to end this way, it kind of ended the way she chose for it to end.”

Luna did not feel like arguing, her grief at failing Hettie was threatening tears again. Ordinarily the buzzing of a wasp would not have bothered her in the slightest, she was used to sharing the world with all manner of unusual creatures. Now, with her emotions stretched to such a pitch, she flinched from what sounded like some kind of accusation, with a small scream she ducked down and away from the red-brown flying insect. For his part Redford reacted angrily at the intrusive bug. His brows came together in a scowl and he transfixed the wasp with an angry glare. Instantly the wasp froze in its flight, dropped to the ground, writhed for a moment, and was still. Luna’s mouth dropped in amazement as her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. Realizing what he had done Redford looked sheepishly at Luna and said, “Oops.”

“What are you?” Luna whispered.

Redford sat back with a sigh. The hard hat and his ’lunch’ turned into vapor and blew away in the slight breeze. “I think you know,” he said, “I believe you have known since the moment I sat down with you, pretty lady.”

“Mr. Death?” she queried.

Death smiled back at her, “Right in one, Healer Lovegood. I must say you have the most unique imagination, as a force of nature I have no body and I take the form your mind gives to me. Most see me as a skeletal figure in a hooded robe with a scythe, others as some kind of overworked civil servant minding the machinery of death, obsessed with appointments and ledgers. But this…I’m flattered.”

“What do you want?”

“Only what we are doing, just to have a chat. Perhaps, come to an understanding?”

Luna’s face scrunched a little, “I don’t like you, Mr. Death, you took my Mum, you took my new friend, Hettie, and that old lady from across the street.”

“Her name was Mildred, Healer Lovegood. You are not precisely correct if you think I ’took’ these people from your life. I am the natural result of excessive blunt force trauma, direct exposure to fire or any energy for that matter, be it lightning, magic, or chemicals. You humans are so fragile, I can come from extreme weather conditions too hot or cold doesn’t matter. Your life processes can be infected by microorganisms and even the passage of time can so alter the chemical machinery of your bodies that they can no longer hold on to life. At those times and circumstances I make my presence known, and in so doing create space for new life, innovation, and growth. That is all I do.

“But that wasp…” Luna accused.

“Special condition, since I am a projection of your mind, it was your anger and fear that killed the wasp. You could also have swatted it yourself or destroyed it with your wand if you had wished. I was just a convenient modality,” he said quietly.

“What kind of understanding are you looking for, Mr. Death?” Luna’s voice was strained and she was unable to look her companion in the eye.

“That even though you must always lose to me, for in the end Death comes for everyone, we need not be mortal enemies. All I ask is that you don’t take it so personally when you do lose. You can certainly argue with me, you will even win many of those confrontations, but ultimately I must win, but that doesn’t need to reflect badly on you,” his voice was kindly. “Oh, and one more thing, take my hand.” he extended a rough, calloused hand.

Luna extended her hand very reluctantly, her arm trembling as she held it toward him. Gently he took her small hand in his. Instantly the world around her went grey. Her vision faded to black at the edges. Relentlessly her vision shrank to a grey dot and then everything vanished into blackness.

Mr. Death’s voice surrounded her as she drifted. She felt like she was sinking ever deeper into some black foreverness outside of the universe. “You see, there is no tearing asunder, no cataclysmic wrenching apart. Only peace and here I must take my leave. I am only concerned with matter. I know nothing of spirit, that is why you instantly understood Mildred when she was a complete mystery to me. You humans are so ephemeral I must pay really close attention or I miss your spirits entirely. I find matter to be so amazing, no sooner it locks into some configuration that that configuration begins to change. It begins to fall apart slowly becoming something else. A slow, ever changing dance of atoms spread across so vast a distance I can scarcely comprehend it. It happens so slowly I guess you never see it, that fact saddens me. Still what awaits you beyond this point in your existence is outside of my knowledge, but know that I wish you well in your journey. Now, nap time is over, I believe you have an appointment at two thirty?”

Slowly the blackness began to turn red at the edges. Soon all that was left of the darkness was the patterns of shadow on the inside of Luna’s eyelids. Her eyes fluttered open and she was alone on the park bench. Standing up she felt rather stiff and her brain didn’t seem to be working after her impromptu nap. From across the street she heard the noises from the construction crews cordoning off the sidewalks and building protective covers over the walkways to protect pedestrians from the demolition work that she knew would be commencing shortly. As she walked back toward St. Mungo’s she recalled her odd dream, Mr. Death indeed…

Her meeting with Master Healer Galen was an education of a different sort. Luna received a beginning course in filling out medical records and death certificates. Earlier in her career as a Healer-in-Training others had taken care of the paperwork, now as an Apprentice Healer she would have to be responsible for her own. She also received instruction on using the Ministry to track down next of kin notifications. It was just after four thirty when she and Galen had finished all the paperwork. She had made it through without displaying any undue emotion, but now after finishing the medical records she took off in search of Ron.

Luna found Ron working in his office. She shut and locked the door behind her. Ron had not noticed as he was working on his case notes. “Ron, how was your day?” she asked in a strained, quiet whisper.

Smiling Ron Weasley looked up at his fiancée, “Lot of bloody boring meetings with the Aurors in the morning then spent the rest of the day learning to move from cover to cover to support police operations, triage victims, law enforcement, and then whatever is left of the bad guys.” He noticed her stricken face, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” It took less than two seconds to stand, cross the small office, and enfold Luna in a warm hug.

She did not answer for a minute or two. Then she stepped back and placed her hand on the center of his chest. “Minute,” she said her breath starting to hitch. Luna opened Ron’s lime green healer’s robe pushing it back off his shoulders. Understanding Ron took off the robe laying it on the back of his office chair. She then began on the buttons of his shirt, bewildered he helped her remove that and his tee shirt as well.

Ron then blushed scarlet as she dropped her robe to the floor, swiftly removed her blouse. “Luna,” he began. She placed her finger over his lips to shush him and removed her bra as well. Grabbing him she guided him to his small couch, pushed him down, sat on his lap, and wrapped him in a needy hug, pressing as much of her bare skin against his bare chest as she could. At last the dam burst and she wept freely for the loss of her patient.

Her fiancé had, of course heard of the loss of Hettie McAllister, but no one had told him how deeply it had affected Luna Lovegood. Ron gently rubbed her back and neck, ran his fingers through her long blond hair, kissing whatever he could in his efforts to soothe her.

After a time her sobbing decreased and he was able to talk to her. “I’m sorry Ronald, my skin just needed your skin after my terrible morning.” As she began to calm down he gave her back her bra and helped her put it on. She then launched into the story of her day, the walk to the park, and her meeting with Mr. Death. If Ron had any doubts about her story he kept them to himself. They went through the conversation a couple of times, trying to understand exactly what Death had meant. The hardest thing for Luna was trying to decide if the conversation was real or only a dream. The unreality of the situation was upsetting her.

Picking up her robe and blouse from the floor he handed them to her and suggested, “Well, let’s go to the park and see what we can find.”

Skipping supper at the hospital they walked to the park. It only took a few minutes to find the bench. “I still don’t know if he was really here or if it was just a dream, Ronald.” Luna stated uncertainly.

Ron bent over searching on the ground before the bench. After a few minutes he stood and said, “Well, if it was just a dream, can you explain this?” He held out a dead wasp he had picked up from the ground.

“Then you believe me?” she asked the corners of her mouth twitched up for the first time since she had come into his office.

“Of course, you had no reason to lie, and just because it is…unusual…doesn’t mean it is untrue.”

“I love you, Ron.” she smiled as she hugged her fiancé once again.

“I love you, too, Sweetheart.” Ron said as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “We need to get back for evening rounds.”

After rounds the couple returned to Ron’s office. They cuddled on his couch for a few minutes of quiet snogging before he said, “Luna have I told you how much I love you today?”

“Oh yes you have Ronald, several times, in fact. The best time though was when I took off my bra and you had the decency to blush, even though I don’t have anything you haven’t seen before. That just said how special I am to you.” She rewarded him with an tender kiss.

He was still trying to come up with ways to cheer her up from her lingering sense of upset. Looking at his schedule he suggested, “Hermione Potter is waddling in for a pre-natal check up. She was tied up at the Ministry and I got her an after hours appointment. You can come and snicker behind her back at the way she walks now. That is if you want to.”

Luna stood up and pulled him up too. “Ronald Weasley, what are you trying to do? Start a war with the DMLE? You know how protective they are of the Potters and Hermione especially now that she’s pregnant! Now I have to go just to make sure you don’t get hexed into oblivion. Let’s go.”

Ron smirked behind Luna’s back, engaging her in ‘full protection of my fiancé’ mode totally blew away any lingering sadness as she focused on the task at hand not that that stopped her from fussing at his insensitivity.

As they approached the door to the receiving area at the front of the hospital, the doors in front of them opened. The brown eyed orderly, with the longish brown hair and a freckles over a small nose, winked at Luna as he passed them. Instantly she froze in recognition and whirled around to look. Ron turned too, but all either of them saw was the long empty hallway behind them.

For a few long moments she stared when the announcement began. “Code Blue, Code Blue in the spell damage ward. Healers Frasier, Nelson, and Greene please report to the spell damage ward.” With a sigh Luna turned around and began to walk to the receiving area dragging Ron in her wake.

“And if I ever catch you laughing at Hermione because she’s pregnant I’ll slap you cross-eyed then I’ll tell your mother and sister so they can finish the job…” The door to receiving closed behind them cutting off whatever else she was saying.

Death smiled to himself, with Healers like this young couple the first century of the new Millennium was going to be a blast.